#I just went off the first songs that sounded right in my playlists | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wlntrsldler · 3 months

Text

poisoned mercury | check yes, juliet

a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over halfway finished! i'll be posting poisoned mercury playlists soon! pls continue to send me songs that remind you of this series. i'm running out of songs to use as titles. thank u for all the love on this fic <3

series masterlist | previous | next

vi. check yes, juliet by we the kings

“where are we going?”

“are you going to ask that every two seconds?”

“you kidnapped me, castellan.”

luke stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at you. you were about a quarter mile away from camp now, and it seemed like every ten steps, you asked him the same question. if he didn’t find you so cute, he would turn around and walk straight back to camp.

“i will throw you over my shoulder and carry you the rest of the way there, five star,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes teasingly. he wasn’t opposed to the idea, but by the look on your face, you certainly were. “don’t test me.”

“and i will scream bloody murder if you do,” you narrowed your eyes at him in a challenging manner.

“here i am, trying to do something nice for you and you accuse me of kidnapping you,” luke continued his steps, slowing down to let you catch up to him. he didn’t realize how much shorter you were than him. the top of your head just went past his shoulders, but your personality made up for the difference. “we’re almost there, keep up.”

“not everyone has long legs, castellan,” you huffed, increasing your pace. “slow down.”

“do you want to get there or not?” he asked, throwing you a teasing smile over his shoulder. you guys really needed to get there soon. the sun was beginning to set and he didn’t want you to have to walk in the dark, even if he was with you. your safety came first, above everything, and he wasn’t gonna put you in a potentially dangerous situation.

you whined, tugging on the side of his t-shirt, “how much longer?”

“that’s it,” luke declared, squatting down to throw you over his shoulder. you squealed, hitting his back with your balled up fists. he knew you didn’t do it to hurt him. he can feel you pulling your punches.

you felt the vibrations from his laughter on his back. luke was enjoying this too much. he carried you over his shoulder like it was nothing. perhaps all those morning workouts were paying off. you twisted your neck to scold him, thankful that he couldn’t see the smile on your lips, “put me down, i swear to god.”

“nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p.’ he tapped your calf with his fingers, “it’s just around the corner.”

luke put you down in front of a building. there were five store fronts, three of which had faulty neon lights. you could barely make out the store names. the other two stores had signs up declaring vacancy. it was a little sketchy, but luke seemed to love it. he had his hands on his hips, staring up at the sign that seemed to say “achilles arcade.”

“what is this place?” luke held the door open for you as you wandered inside the store. the place was dimly lit with old-school arcade games lining the walls. an old man was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading the morning paper.

“just wait,” luke grinned, pulling on your hand to lead you to get some tokens, “chiron! my man.”

the man placed the newspaper on the surface, eyes lighting up at the sound of luke’s voice. he beamed, “luke castellan! i was afraid you weren’t gonna come back.”

“you know i keep my promises,” luke let go of your hand, introducing you to chiron, “chiron, this is yn. she goes to camp with me.”

“pleasure to meet you,” he tipped his head, reaching under the counter to dig out a bucket full of golden tokens.

you took out your wallet, “how much do we owe you?”

“on the house,” he waved off, “he donated a ridiculous sum of money to keep this place up and running. too generous, this one, so it wouldn’t be right for me to charge you when he’s keeping me in business.”

luke shook his head, sliding a hundred across the counter anyway. he took your wallet and stuffed it in his back pocket, knowing that you’ll probably try to slip him some cash if he didn’t. you grumbled, but decided not to pick a fight. it didn’t seem like one you’d win.

luke grabbed the bucket by the handle and turned to you, “where do you want to start, five star?”

“you took me to an arcade?”

“yeah,” luke said, sheepishly, “whenever i run out of cigs, i always go to an arcade to keep my mind off things. it’s childish, but it works. figured you could try it. plus, there’s a smoke shop across the street so we can go there when we’re done here.”

“only one thing is better than the feeling of a new cherry ice vape,” you got close to him, nearly toe to toe. luke could smell the perfume on your skin, the scent of your shampoo, and his cologne that lingered on the hoodie of his that you wore. he reminded you that you always got cold and that you should bring a sweater, but you assured him that you wouldn’t. halfway to the arcade, you were shivering and luke knew that he made the right decision bringing his hoodie with him.

you rolled your eyes, but accepted it. his hoodie stopped mid-thigh and engulfed you, but it looked better on you than it ever did on him. something about you wearing a hoodie that had his band name on it made his heart skip a beat. he had to listen to you make fun of him for tripping over air after he saw you in his clothes, but he didn’t expect anything less from you.

he licked his lips, eyes darting to your own, “and what is that, five star?”

“beating your ass at galaga.”

luke’s laughter echoed throughout the empty arcade as you ran from him with the tokens in your hand. you looked back at him with a mischievous smile on your face and he felt his heartstrings tug in his chest. you stuck your tongue out at him, starting the game as he stayed in his spot, admiring you.

there weren’t many moments where he could be out in public like this, so when his mom reluctantly agreed to stop at this building on the way to camp due to a flat tire, luke and the boys were ecstatic to find that there was an empty arcade hidden in montauk. luke talked to chiron and learned his story while the boys played random games to kill the time. luke found out that the arcade wasn’t doing well financially with the increase in rent prices and that they would have to close down at the end of the summer if things don’t pick up again. chiron mentioned that he and his partner started this business twenty years ago, and he was sad to see it go.

luke excused himself and snuck back into the tour bus to grab his checkbook. he wrote a check that covered rent and other expenses for the year and gave it to chiron. of course the man refused it, but luke wasn’t taking no for an answer, not after chiron shared that the arcade was the last living piece of his partner. luke castellan was a hopeless romantic, which not many people knew. he knew he was done for the minute he heard their love story.

he stood there for a few moments, watching as you cheered, dodging the blasts of your enemies. you were so animated while you played, so expressive with your eyes and your voice. he’d only seen you like this a handful of times, talking to clarisse about god knows what, talking to the younger campers and asking them questions about their projects and interests, and when you asked him about his music. all of your monotoned replies and deadpan looks were all he got for the longest time, it seemed like your nonchalance was only for him, so it was nice to see you like this. it felt like you were warming up to him.

he thought about the talk the two of you had in your room, how different you’d been then. after being iced out for weeks, luke was a little shocked at how soft you were with him earlier, playing with his rings, holding his hand, talking to him. it was a welcomed surprise, of course, but he expected you to kick him to the curb. he still didn’t understand what actually happened after the concert, but he figured you already had a tough day, so that conversation can wait.

he made his way to you, leaning across the screen to slightly block your view, “you might be better than me at this game, but your ass is mine at guitar hero.”

“not fair,” you were focused on the game, eyes glued on the screen in front of you. “you’re in a band. of course you’re gonna be better than me at that.”

“life’s not fair, five star,” luke poked your side, making you squirm. you died in the game because of it. “my turn, yeah?”

you shoved his chest, reluctantly moving over. “you cheated.”

he looked over his shoulder, smirking, “how did i cheat?”

“you distracted me!”

“i did not!” he argued, chuckles escaping his lips. his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. his concentration face was annoyingly attractive.

“did too,” you mumbled, watching over his shoulder to see how he was doing. he was doing really well. damn teenage boys and their affinity for video games. your chin rested comfortably on his shoulder blade as you watched him play.

luke’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly too aware that you were so close to him. he could feel your breath against the nape of his neck, your lips dangerously close to where his tattoo was. he snuck a glance at you, noting how you were too focused on his score inching closer to your own.

“ha!” you yelled, pulling away from him. you bumped his hip with yours, moving him out of the way, “my turn.”

“okay, you cheated.”

you hit pause on the game, placing your hands on your waist, “how?”

“you were distracting me! putting your head on my shoulder and shit.”

“awww,” you cooed, playfulness in your tone, “do i make you nervous?”

luke’s face flushed. he shook his head, tilting his head down to hide the color on his face. he rubbed the back of his neck, “play your fucking game.”

you said something about him being a sore loser and cheered loudly when you beat his score. when you both ran out of lives, luke led you to guitar hero and as expected, kicked your ass at the game. the two of you played in the arcade until there was one golden token left in the bottom of the bucket. as you wandered around the room, your eyes landed on a black and white photobooth tucked away in the corner.

“let’s take some pictures,” you grabbed his hand, leading him over there before he could say no. you shoved him inside the photobooth, tapping his knee to make him stop manspreading on the small bench.

it could barely fit two people so it was a tight squeeze. you were sitting so close to luke, thighs pressed together as you tapped on the small screen to begin the process. luke could feel the warmth of your skin against his and he was glad that there was no colored photos option because his cheeks were bright red. maybe he can blame the lights making him feel hot if you brought it up, but he wasn’t sure if his voice even worked enough to utter out his excuse.

“you better smile, castellan,” you threatened, turning to look at him before you inserted the token in the slot. “not that little side smirk shit that you do in all your pictures.”

“what side smirk?”

“that thing you do in your pictures!” you shouted, “in every single instagram post, you always do it.”

luke raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile appearing on his lips, “you’ve stalked my instagram?”

“not the point,” you ducked, pretending to mess with the settings of the photobooth. luke can see your shy smile on the screen in front of him. “i’m just saying, smile normally.”

“that’s how i smile, five star! what do you want me to do?”

“that is not how you smile!” you argued. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you faced him. he was already looking at you, soft eyes and a hint of a smile on his features. a stray curl was out of place on his head and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over to put it back in place. luke held his breath as your fingers grazed the side of his face, taking much longer than you needed to fix his hair. your thumb subconsciously rubbed against the scar on his cheek. luke let his eyes close at the feeling.

“there,” you whispered, pulling your hand back to your side. “that’s how you smile.”

he tried his best to keep that same expression on his face to see what you were talking about. he glanced at the screen and found himself stunned at what he found. you were right. this is not how he looked in his instagram pictures. he almost didn’t recognize himself as he stared. he looked different like this.

there were no creases between his eyebrows or on his forehead, like there was no stress on his shoulders. his eyes looked brighter somehow as if he was at peace, exactly where he needed to be at that moment. his lips were quirked up in a tender smile, parts of his teeth showing between the gap of his top lip and bottom lip. did he always look like this when he was with you? awe-struck and enraptured by your presence?

he should feel pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when you were looking at him like you enjoyed this clandestine look on his face, a look that he reserved only for you. he couldn’t feel pathetic when you were looking at him in the same way. a secret language between the two of you, that nobody else in the world could even begin to understand.

the countdown on the screen started and luke was pulled from his thoughts quickly when you pressed your cheek against his, grinning as the timer flashed across the screen. he let himself smile, teeth on full display before the flash went off. the second countdown began and luke watched you fumble around to pick the next pose. you settled on a silly pose, sticking your tongue out as you held up the ‘rock and roll’ sign with your hand. he followed your lead, letting a snicker leave his lips at how fitting the pose was.

the final photo was uncoordinated. luke wasn’t ready for the flash to go off. you placed your hand on his shoulder, craning your neck to look up at him. if he leaned down an inch or two, his lips would touch yours. the realization had the wires in his brain crossed. when the machine took the picture, luke was staring lovingly into your eyes, a look of indecision on his face. his lips were curled into a bashful smile, the tip of his nose touching yours.

“five star,” luke breathed out, his arm snaking around your waist. your leg was now placed on top of his own.

you gulped, nudging his nose with yours, “luke…”

he’d never heard his name leave your lips before other than when you were mocking the gossips you heard about him. he’d never heard your real voice call him by his name. now that he has, he was addicted to the sound of it. he never liked his name that much, but somehow, when you said it, it sounded like poetry. he never thought a single syllable could sound so beautiful, have his knees buckling at the utterance of it. but with you, he supposed there was always a first for everything.

when the bright red words stating “your photos are ready!” illuminated the inside of the photobooth, the two of you jumped apart from each other, blushing wildly. luke took a moment for himself inside the photobooth, rubbing his face with his palms, as you walked out to retrieve the pictures. luke followed you after taking a few deep breaths.

he saw you leaning against the wall, the two strips of pictures in your hand. you had a goofy grin on your face, admiring them. luke sauntered next to you, taking a look at the photos.

he accepted the strip of photos you handed him, “we probably should’ve discussed our poses beforehand.”

“i dunno,” you were still staring at the pictures, biting your bottom lip. “i like ‘em.”

luke hummed, taking out his wallet. he folded the strip in threes, slotting the last photo in the clear compartment of his wallet. it looked perfect against the black leather, like it was the last thing needed to make his wallet look complete. he slipped it back in his back pocket, taking yours out to return to you.

“smoke shop?” he asked.

“please,” you nodded, beginning to walk out of the arcade. you waved goodbye to chiron who moved onto doing the daily crossword. “bye chiron! great to meet you!”

he bid the two of you goodbye, a knowing gaze on his face. you were already out the door when he sent luke a wink that had him shaking his head, face turning red at the man’s antics. luke shut the door behind him, ushering you over to the sidewalk towards the smoke shop, “i’m out of cigs too, so this is actually perfect timing.”

you waited outside the smoke shop, sitting on the curb. luke had a fake id (for research purposes, of course. he was just curious to see what the kentucky ids looked like.) so he bought your vape and his cigarettes. when he emerged, he joined you on the curb, pulling out his phone to call an uber back to camp.

the sun was long gone and he could hear the owls hooting in the distance. it was not a good idea to walk back to camp, even if it wasn’t even a mile away. he watched you unwrap your vape, taking a small hit from it. he lit his cigarette with the lighter he carried with him and smoked with you in silence.

“uber is gonna take twenty minutes,” he said, placing his phone between the two of you, face up. “i’m guessing there’s not many people around here.”

you glanced at his phone, giggling at his lockscreen. it was a picture of the entire band, wearing matching novelty sunglasses taken at a .5 angle. they looked ridiculously like the guys you’ve grown to adore. “i like your lockscreen.”

luke tapped his phone to wake it up. he let out a laugh, “mom took it when we played vegas for the first time. we were too young to go out and we were too afraid to use our fakes so we went to m&m world and got wired on sugar.”

“you guys are really close, huh?”

“got to be,” luke shrugged, “we’re together 24/7, but even before that… these guys are my brothers. love ‘em, even when they’re a pain in my ass. what’s your lockscreen?”

you pulled out your phone, showing him the picture of you, clarisse, and silena flipping off the camera. it was taken during one of your (failed) attempts at studying at the library. you were all in sweatpants and large hoodies with the stress of midterms evident on your faces. “that’s silena, my other best friend from unc. her boyfriend, charlie, took this picture because he said we looked absolutely miserable. and we do, but it makes me happy looking back at it. we were struggling together and we somehow made it out together.”

“i do not miss school at all,” luke blew out the smoke in his mouth, “i was a shit student.”

“but now look at you,” you teased, “mr. rockstar.”

“yeah, yeah,” luke copied your voice, “can’t complain.”

you hummed, tucking your vape in the pocket of luke’s hoodie, “you can, especially with me. i’m the number one hater, so i enjoy complaining quite a bit.”

“oh, i know.”

you smacked his arm, rolling your eyes as he stumbled in his seat, laughing. you cleared your throat, voice turning serious, “seriously. i owe you for today, so complain to me all you want.”

“you don’t owe me shit, five star,” luke put out his cigarette, standing up as his phone alerted him that the uber was coming soon. he held out his hand to help you up. “but i will take you up on that offer. of course, i can only do that if you don’t ignore me for weeks again.”

you slapped his hand away, shaking your head, smiling, “shut the fuck up.”

luke flagged down the uber, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you into the backseat. you entered, making polite conversations with the lady in the driver’s seat.

“for chase?”

luke nodded, “yup, thanks so much.”

as the car drove off in the direction of camp, you turned to luke, mouthing, “chase?”

he took out his wallet and handed you his fake id: chase reed, brown eyes, brown hair, 5’11.

luke safely tucked the id back in its slot when you tossed it back at him, giggling at his alter-ego. he didn’t say anything when you moved closer to him, sitting in the middle seat, and held his hand the rest of the way back to camp.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series

457 notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 5 months

Text

🍷 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

496 notes · View notes

waterhousse · 5 months

Text

Underneath the Tree

Pairing: brother’s best friend!ellie williams x reader

Summary: you’re happy to be back in your hometown for christmas break, but that changes when an unexpected guest shows up at your house.

Author’s note: let’s pretend i posted this on time lmao anyways here’s some fluffy cliché and christmassy ellie content <3

• • • •

christmas had always been your favorite holiday. you loved everything about it; the food, buying presents, the decorations, the movies and every single tradition, but most importantly, the joy of it all and the coziness that time of year radiated.

you and your brother had just arrived home from college, so all you wanted to do was relax for a bit. you plopped down on one of the couches, letting out a big sigh.

“hey, i wanted to tell you that i invited a friend over to spend christmas with us,” your brother told you out of nowhere.

you frowned, confused, “oh, who?”

“her family went to visit one of her aunts, the one she hates, so i invited her here. mom and dad already know.”

“who is it?” you asked again.

“well—”

knock, knock.

you didn’t miss the weird glance he shot you before he went to open the door. you stayed on the couch, trying to heighten your hearing to figure out who it was.

the intrigued expression in your face morphed into a surprised one when you recognize the person’s voice. it belonged to none other than ellie williams, your brother’s best friend.

they met in orientation and immediately hit it off, yet you had never liked her. not when your brother first introduced you to her, not after the countless times she had been over at your apartment and certainly not now that she had crashed your favorite holiday.

she always found a way to mess with you, either by teasing you or doing stuff like using your favorite mug whenever she was over at your apartment or borrowing your hoodies without asking.

she really got on your nerves, and now she was at your house. you would’ve never imagined her standing in your living room and talking to your parents, but there she was.

you glanced up at her the moment her eyes fell on you, her characteristic cocky grin already making an appearance.

“hey.”

you just sent her a smile, one that only a blind person wouldn’t be able to tell was fake. after a short chit-chat, your parents left the room followed by your brother, who mouthed ‘be nice’ before leaving.

“happy to see me?” ellie asked once she checked you were alone.

“the happiest,” you replied, sarcasm violently dripping from your words.

ellie suppressed a laugh, clearly amused by how much her presence bothered you. “i promise you won’t even notice i’m here.”

you scoffed, “yeah, right,” you muttered before getting up from the couch and walking past her. “don’t go in my room,” you warned her before leaving her alone on the living room.

“you’re not gonna show me around?” she asked, raising her voice a little.

you heard her snicker and it was almost impossible for you not roll your eyes at the sound. fuming, you went to the kitchen in search of your brother.

“thanks for the warning, dumbass,” you scowled at him. he knew how you felt about ellie, but he didn’t care in the slightest.

he laughed, stuffing his mouth with multiple cookies. “you weren’t going to let me invite her if i told you.”

“exactly!”

“get over it. she’s cool, you’d like her if you actually gave her a chance.”

you huffed, “whatever.”

after that, you went to your room. you put on your favorite christmas playlist as you unpacked, but you were far too distracted to actually listen to the songs.

you wouldn’t go as far as calling ellie your enemy, but she was close to that. you just couldn’t stand her, that was why whenever she visited your brother at your apartment you stayed in your room or left, not wanting to be the victim of her constant teasing.

suddenly, the door swung open. your head shot up, alarmed. ellie was staring back at you just as surprised as you were.

“what are you doing?” you asked, annoyed.

“oh, i thought this was the guest room.”

“that’s the guest room,” you pointed to the door right across yours. “now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“you should come downstairs, i’m about to bake cookies.”

a laugh escaped your lips as you grabbed your phone to pause the music. “you are making cookies?”

ellie leaned on the doorframe, a small smile forming on her lips, “yeah, why?”

“you don’t seem like the type, that’s all.”

“yeah, well, i’m full of surprises. you’ll see.”

with that, she left. you stared at where she had been standing a second ago, completely unaware of the goofy smile on your lips. you went back to your task, too caught up in your mind to realize you hadn’t pressed play on the music.

a while later, you finished unpacking and straightening up your room in the process. the smell of freshly baked cookies made you practically float to the kitchen and you could almost hear them calling your name. trying your best to not make a sound, you stood on your tiptoes and went to grab one.

“those are for later,” ellie’s voice came out of nowhere, startling you for the second time of the day.

you immediately turned around, narrowing your eyes at her, “this is my house.”

“and those are my cookies,” she retorted, crossing her arms beneath her chest. “but fine, you can grab one.”

“just like that?”

“do you want to fight a duel over it or something?”

you rolled your eyes, reaching over to grab one of the cookies. you chose the one with the candy cane shape and took a bite just as you walked past her.

god, that’s good.

“how is it?” ellie asked, following you closely behind.

“there’s no way you made this,” you said before sitting down on the big couch.

“i did!”

“i’ll ask my mom.”

“fine, she made them. i only passed her the ingredients,” ellie admitted, rolling her eyes. she sat down next to you and watched as you turned on the tv. “what are we watching?”

“well, i was going to watch home alone.”

“cool, let’s.”

“only if you keep quiet.”

ellie layed back on the couch, nodding at your words, “i promise.”

surprisingly, she kept her word and didn’t utter a sound, but you were still fully aware of her company. ellie didn’t miss the quick glances you shot at her from time to time.

“what?” she asked, turning her head to you.

“huh?”

“you’re looking at me.”

“no, i’m not,” you furrowed your eyebrows and looked back at the tv, but you could still feel ellie’s stare on you. with a sigh, you gazed back at her. “are you going to watch the movie or not?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” ellie replied, eyes sparkling with amusement.

you looked away from her, “shut up.”

ellie just chuckled lightly at you, choosing not say anything else and pay attention to the movie. she didn’t tear her eyes away from the screen until forty minutes later, when a weight on her shoulder distracted her. confused, she looked to the side.

it surprised her to see you had fallen asleep on her. you were softly snoring away, looking as peaceful as she had ever seen you. it was the first time you were that close to her and she couldn’t help but think how horrified you’d be if you knew what you were doing.

ellie watched what was left of the movie sitting impossibly still, trying not to wake you up. once the credits rolled in, she catiously moved you off of her and left you in a comfortable position before standing up.

she watched what was left of the movie impossibly still on her spot, trying not to wake you up. once it ended, she catiously moved you off of her and left you in a comfortable position before standing up.

you woke up a while later, wrapped in a warm blanket that wasn’t there before. you were completely disoriented, not knowing where you were or what had happened when it suddenly hit you.

you sat up straight on the couch, looking around and seeing the tv turned off.

“god,” you whispered as you hid your face in your hands, embarrassed.

“go wake your sister up and tell her dinner’s ready,” you heard your mother say from the dining room.

“i’m up!” you shouted back, mentally preparing yourself to face ellie again.

everyone was already sitting at the table, looking at you with amused smiles.

“you should’ve woken me up sooner,” you groggily complained, taking a seat next to ellie.

“but you looked so adorable,” ellie said to you, leaning closer so only you could hear.

you weren’t a violent person, but all you wanted to do in that moment was to punch that stupid grin off her face.

“i’m not in the mood for jokes, ellie,” you glared at her before setting your gaze on your plate.

“who said i was joking?”

you looked back at her, but she had already engaged in another conversation with your brother.

you and ellie didn’t exchange any more words, but you got to know her a little bit better due to the million questions your parents asked her. you learned that she was actually not that bad and you certainly liked her better when she wasn’t constantly teasing you.

even though you had taken a nap, you were still incredibly tired so you went to your room after helping cleaning up. once you slipped into your favorite pajamas you were ready to sleep, but a knock on your door interrupted you.

you didn’t expect to see ellie standing on the other side.

“uh, something wrong?”

ellie shook her head, “no, we’re just about to watch a movie and i though i’d let you know in case you wanted to watch it with us.”

“oh, thanks, but i’m really tired so…”

“you’re going to sleep already? do you need me to lend you my shoulder again?”

the polite smile you had instantly disappeared and an annoyed expression taking took over your features at her taunting.

“goodnight,” you closed the door on her face, but that didn’t stop the sound of her laughter from reaching your ears.

you woke up the following morning with the sound of your family chattering downstairs, with the addition of ellie’s voice. you could’ve sworn she said your name but, having just woken up, you told yourself you had probably heard wrong.

ellie was enjoying her breakfast when she heard noises upstairs and, as a reflex, she looked up. your brother noticed, so he sent her an inquisitive look.

“what?” he asked her.

“i heard noises, i think she’s up.”

“yeah, i know. you just seem very aware of whatever my sister does,” he pointed out before taking a sip of his coffee.

“i’m just a very observant person, that’s all.”

“you, observant? you’re zoned out every time i try talk to you,” he said incredulously.

“that’s on purpose, i just don’t wanna talk to you.”

their little quarrel stopped once they saw you come in, staying suspiciously quiet. you narrowed your eyes at them as you sat down, their eyes following you.

“what?” you glanced at them.

“nothing,” ellie replied as she took a sip of her hot chocolate.

“hey, can you pass me the—” you suddenly went quiet when you noticed something that snapped the sleepiness out of you. “that’s my mug!”

ellie froze on her spot just as she was about take another sip, “uh…”

“let her use it, she’s a guest!” your mother told you. “she probably didn’t know it was yours when she grabbed it.”

“but she always does this—”

“she’s a guest,” your mother repeated.

you scoffed as your eyes fell on the girl in front of you. as expected, she was completely amused by the situation.

“i’m a guest,” ellie pronounced the words with that mocking tone that drove you crazy.

“you’re really annoying, you know that?”

your brother silently watched the scene unfold in front him. he noticed the way you were trying to hide a smile and how ellie was unable to do so. there was a huge grin on his friend face, one that only seemed to appear whenever you were around.

that was actually the first thing that made him pay more attention to your relationship’s dynamic. ellie became another version of herself with you, one that was unusually smiley and much more of a tease than she normally was.

“next time i’ll go to your house to use your favorite mug.”

“i don’t have a favorite mug.”

your family listened closely to your bickering, laughing to themselves as you and ellie kept fighting. you were like that for the rest of the day, making fun of each other and engaging in harmless and playful arguments.

that afternoon you decided to make gingerbread houses, but it soon turned into a deadly competition in which only you and ellie were participants.

it all started when ellie mocked the christmas traditions you loved so much, calling them dumb. you challenged her by saying she only thought that way because she wouldn’t be good at them. your words brought up ellie’s competitive side, so she bet that her gingerbread house would kick yours’ ass.

“oh, you’re going down,” the evil chuckle the came out of you would’ve made her laugh in another situation, but ellie was too focused on winning.

much to your dismay, ellie was weirdly artistic and, apparently, good at everything. her house ended up being much better than yours, so you had to listen to her bragging about it for what was left of the day.

christmas was getting closer and closer and, to your surprise, having ellie there wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. in fact, you actually enjoyed having her around.

she was nicer than you would’ve imagined, really funny and had many different interests, which were fun to learn about when they were explained by her. you still found her slightly annoying since her habit of making fun of you never went away, but you were definitely getting used to it.

“you’re heading out?”

you looked up at the sound of ellie’s voice. “yeah, christmas shopping,” you replied as you wrapped a big scarf around your neck.

“oh, cool. i’m coming with you.”

you let out a small laugh, “no, you’re not.”

“i have to buy presents for the kind family who let me spend christmas with them, that includes you, the kindest of them all.”

you rolled your eyes at her evident sarcasm, “why don’t you go with my brother?”

“i need your help on what to get him,” ellie tried to convince you, but you were still hesitant. suddenly, an idea came to her mind. “c’mon, where’s the christmas spirit?”

christmas spirit.

using that card on you was low, it was obvious you wouldn’t resist.

you let out a sigh, but immediately gave in, “fine, let’s go.”

“you’re so easy to convince.”

“don’t make me regret it.”

the drive to the mall consisted in you singing whatever song came on the radio and ellie looking at you through the corner of her eye while staying strangely quiet. she hadn’t even tried to make fun of you, not even once.

“what should i get your parents?”

“you don’t have to get them anything, ellie, really.”

the mall was packed with people doing last minute christmas shopping, but you couldn’t exactly complain considering you were doing the exact same thing.

ellie followed you closely, “if you don’t help me i’ll buy them whatever crap i see first.”

“okay, do that.”

ellie groaned, “oh, c’mon.”

she kept struggling to find a way to convince you, completely oblivious to the smile you had on your lips. you had decided to help her from the beginning, but seeing her in distress was very entertaining for you.

you wandered around for a while, going into every possible store. you bought presents for everyone, except for the girl beside you.

“stay here, i have to do something,” you told her.

“really? what’s that?”

“it’s private.”

ellie hummed, “how private?”

“what?”

“why can’t i go with you?” she questioned.

“because you can’t.”

“wait, are you going to buy me a present?”

you huffed, “no.”

“you don’t have to lie.” ellie leaned in closer to you, “i know santa isn’t real,” she whispered.

you pushed her away from you as she laughed. you began walking away, ellie hurriedly catching up to you.

“what are you going to get me?”

“nothing if you keep being a pain in the ass,” you dryly replied.

“fine, go. i guess i’ll just wait here,” she pointed to an empty bench. “don’t be long.”

“don’t tell me what to do.”

ellie watched you leave with a smile plastered on her face. she sighed, laying back on the bench as she impatiently waited for you to be back. she had already picked up a present for you in one of the many stores you visited. she didn’t know how she managed to pull it off, but she was insanely proud of herself. it was difficult for you not to notice something, you had eyes everywhere.

after what seemed an eternity for ellie, you went back to find her. you almost laughed at how tired she looked, maybe christmas shopping wasn’t as fun for others as it was for you.

“bored?” you asked, amused.

“i think i actually fell asleep at one point.”

“i’m sorry,” you chuckled. “but we’re done! let’s go.”

ellie laughed softly at the amount of energy you still had in you. she felt completely exhausted. shopping was one of the things she disliked the most, especially during the holidays. still, she had fun.

maybe she didn’t hate shopping as much as she thought, or maybe your company would make her enjoy literally anything.

“wait,” ellie grabbed your arm and pulled you down, making you sit next to her. “aren’t you tired?”

“not really,” you shrugged your shoulders. “but we can rest for a bit if you want.”

“great,” she replied, crossing her arms and laying back on the bench again.

you copied her action, looking around the mall and paying extra attention to the lovely christmas decorations. you threw your head back, noticing something hanging above you.

mistletoe.

your eyes widened as you sat up straight, catching ellie’s attention. she turned her head to you, furrowing her eyebrows.

“you okay there?”

“uh, yeah. why?”

“you’re looking a little tense, that’s all.”

“i’m not tense, i’m just cold.” you made the mistake of shooting a quick glance at the mistletoe. ellie noticed, of course.

she tried her best to suppress a smile, but she failed miserably, “ah, i see.”

the way she looked at you caused a strange flutter in your stomach, which made you shift uncomfortably in your place.

“i’m not kissing you, ellie.”

“why not?”

her almost immediate question took you by surprise, “what do you mean why not?”

“i mean, why not?”

“i don’t know. you’re you.”

“yeah, and you’re you. you love christmas traditions.”

“you don’t. you said they were dumb.”

“yeah, but i’m not, like, totally opposed to them.”

you stayed quiet, staring into those green eyes of hers. your gaze wandered down to her lips and it lingered there for a moment before something else caught your attention.

“you have freckles,” you pointed out.

her eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, “you didn’t know?”

“this is the closest i’ve ever been to you.”

ellie’s mouth curved into a smile, wanting you to be even closer. she noticed the way your eyes were back on her lips, so she took it as a sign that you wanted it just as much as her.

it felt impossible for you to look away, you were completely enthralled by her. there was something pulling you closer to her, you couldn’t control it.

“for christmas’ sake, y’know?”

“you can’t keep using christmas as a way to manipulate me,” you whispered.

ellie took the initiative and leaned in first. you instantly closed your eyes at the contact, eyebrows slightly burrowed as you melted into the soft, slow kiss. it didn’t last long, but the sensation stayed with you after pulling away.

“um…” was all that you could say, eyes a bit widened.

ellie sent you a nervous smile, “you gotta respect christmas traditions, right?”

“right.”

on the drive back home the tension was palpable, but neither of you dared to mention the kiss again and acted as if nothing had happened. you certainly wouldn’t be the one to bring it up, so you tried your best to forget about it and trick your own mind into thinking it had been just an hallucination.

on the other hand, ellie couldn’t and wouldn’t stop replying the moment in her head. she wasn’t exactly sure if she had done the right thing, but she knew she didn’t regret it. not one thought crossed her mind in that moment, she didn’t think about what would happen next or what would your brother do if he found out. she went for it because that was what she had been wanting to do for a while.

on christmas morning, the house was dead quiet. everyone was still asleep, except for you and ellie. after making yourselves more presentable, you stepped out on the hallway at the same time. you almost gasped when you opened the door and ellie was right across from you, there was a similar expression on her face.

things had been awkward between you two. you didn’t ignore each other, but you didn’t talk as much as before. she had stopped making fun of you and you treated her more politely than you had ever done.

“good morning,” you softly said.

“hey,” she greeted with a half smile. “merry christmas.”

your eyebrows rose a little when you realized you had forgotten what day it was.

“right, merry christmas,” you grinned, fiddling with your fingers. “do you want to have breakfast?”

“sure, yeah.”

you both went downstairs and walked towards the kitchen, but ellie stopped by the living room. you turned around and watched her go to the christmas tree. she looked back at you, pointing at the wall where five christmas stockings were hung up. next to the one with your initial, there was one with an embroidered letter ‘E’.

“you bought me a stocking.”

“how’d you know it was me?”

ellie tilted her head to the side, “seriously? you’re like christmas personified.”

her compliment earned a soft giggle from you. you missed the adoring look she gave you when you looked down. it was hard to make you shy, which is why ellie felt over the moon when she accomplished it.

“thank you,” ellie gave a sincere smile, which faltered a little once she saw you trying to avoid eye contact. it had been that way ever since the kiss happened and it was driving her crazy.

“you’re welcome,” you grinned, looking into her eyes.

oh, ellie wasn’t ready for that. she felt her heart rate pathetically increase and she tried her best to look unaffected.

“we’re okay, right?” she awkwardly asked you.

“yes, why wouldn’t we be?”

“it’s just… it’s been kind of weird since, y’know, the kiss. i’m sorry if it bothered you, we can just forget it happened—”

iin that moment, the sound of your brother coming downstairs stopped you. you sent her an apologetic look before he barged in, loud as he always was.

“you didn’t open any presents yet, did you?” your brother asked you, narrowing his eyes at you.

“uh, no. we— we were waiting for you, guys,” you said just as your parents appeared.

you watched your family open their presents and tell you to open yours, but you were too busy thinking about your previous conversation with ellie. you glanced at her, hoping she would be already looking at you, but she wasn’t.

with a sigh, you grabbed a box from underneath the tree, one that had ellie’s name on it. you walked over to her and took her by her hand before discreetly dragging her out of the room.

“i’m sorry i’ve been acting weird, i guess i just— well, i—” you struggled to put together an actual sentence under ellie’s stare. she tilted her head to the side, waiting for you to continue. “god, don’t look at me like that.”

“why? do i make you nervous?” she taunted, a teasing grin spreading over her lips.

“ellie,” you complained, throwing your head back.

she laughed, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”

“dumbass,” you muttered, frowning. “what i’m trying to say is, i’m sorry. i should’ve been more upfront.”

“more upfront with what, exactly?”

“with how i feel.”

ellie’s breath hitched in her throat, “and how do you feel?”

“i like you.”

“you do?”

“yeah,” you gave her a smile. “unless you don’t like me back, then i don’t.”

ellie chuckled lightly and, without hesitation, she gently grabbed your face with one hand and brought you closer to her, giving you the kiss she had been dreaming about ever since your lips left hers at the mall.

your mind went blank, nothing else mattered. not the possibility of your family seeing you or the fact that kissing ellie would’ve been the worst thing imaginable a week back.

things had drastically changed.

you didn’t know when or why it happened exactly, but you seriously liked her. maybe when you saw how well she treated your parents, or how much she cared for your brother. maybe it was the way she looked at you whenever she made a joke to see if you’d laugh, or the fact that you shared practically the same taste in music.

there were many, many reasons for you to like her, yet you still couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

all of a sudden, you pulled away, leaving ellie with her lips puckered, “open your present.”

you placed the perfectly wrapped gift in between her hands, bragging about having wrapped it yourself since the guy from the store wasn’t very good at it.

you watched as ellie tried her best not to rip the wrapping paper and open it carefully.

“it’s okay if you rip it,” you clarified.

“no, you wrapped it.”

once she finally opened it, a smile began spreading across her lips. on her hands, there was a mug. it was similar to the one you had on your apartment, with different little and delicate drawings of cats. the only difference was that yours had details in dark red and hers in deep blue. there was also a handwritten card that read ‘i hope this becomes your favorite one (just so i can use it)’.

a laugh escaped her lips, rolling her eyes as she brought you in for a hug. “thank you, i love it.”

“yeah?”

“yup. i’ll keep using yours, though.”

“it’s fine, i’ll use yours.”

#ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams #tlou2 fluff #ellie tlou2

639 notes · View notes

thyln4gf · 16 days

Text

Cheri cheri lady

✞ Watching you on the top step of the podium for the first time, while still in your rookie year... It all tasted a little bitter for Lando, but he wasnt complaining too much... he did get the best view out of them all - right from p2.

✞ Word count - 808

✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that I associate with this fic - "american jesus" - Nessa Barrett, "heavy metal lover" - Lady Gaga, "flawless" - The Neighbourhood, "take me back to eden" - Sleep Token, "hall of fame" - The Script. Note - i do have a whole playlist. Ask if you want it.

✞ Warnings - none, I guess. A lot of fluffy shite. Slightly suggestive. A short little blurb inspired by Landos first win<3 Gg, my boy.

✞ Lando Norris x Mercedes!Reader

The sound of a crowd yelling someone elses name annoyed him till no end - it reminded him of the fact that he hasnt won yet, and that hes currently holding a pretty sad record - the highest number of podiums without a win. That, until it came to you - it immediately became something that he wanted to hear over and over. It was almost as sweet as the champagne swirling down his body, the sun kissing his face, or the sweet, sweet sound of an anthem that wasnt the dutch one.

It all started at the beginning of the season, really. He was intimidated by you at first, just a little - for the first quali of the season, your rookie season, you had already grabbed the pole. But, quickly enough, he found himself getting more and more curious about you. He would ask you about the weather, or about the ridiculous activities the media admins made you do - to "see if it matched his". It was far from enough for him though - he wanted to know everything about you. How do you like your waffles? He wanted to ask you about that. He wanted to ask you about breakfast and honey. Sunlight. Do you like strawberry smoothies? What was the name of your childhood cat? Do you have any scars?

There were so many things he wanted to say, but didnt know how to. Thats why he spent quite a bit of his time quietly observing you. He felt as if you were just a mere result of his imagination - one touch, just one taste - and youd disappear.

His newly found obsession, however, was watching the wide grin fighting for its place on your face. You were stood on that step, taking up the space that you deserved oh so much. He was a little jealous of the success that you found yourself in so soon, but he couldnt peel his eyes away from you - the way you were stood there, proud. The golden hour danced on your face, making the sweat drenched features pop out. Just like him, the sun seemed to enjoy your eyes - they looked like the shiniest gems you could find.

The champagne celebration rolled around. He was already giggling, looking forward to absolutely drowning you in the sticky, sweet, liquid luck. He looked at Daniel on the other side, the English anthem for Mercedes coming to an end. They both wiggled their eyebrows at each other, seemingly getting the exact same idea, and locking it in.

They could have planned all they wanted, honestly - but you were just quicker. You jumped off the step quickly, it almost looked like you were flying. To Landos surprise, you didnt go for your usual move. Instead, you seemed to use his - the famous champagne floor smash. He was so pleasantly surprised that he didnt even register a stream of the beverage aimed right into the centre of his face. Wiping the champagne from his eyes, he saw your wide grin - and Daniel getting the back of your head. You shrieked - and it wasnt from the surprise, he knew. You washed your hair just this morning.

As much as he would have wanted that scene to last forever... Like all good things, it quickly came to an end. But that meant that he got to stand by your side for the photo - and it made him nervous, almost like a young, teenage boy, whos crush went to the same school.

He was nervous. Oh, so nervous. He was a little scared of messing something up, taking great measures to avoid exactly that. He did end up on the wrong side of the step, somehow. He didnt even notice, but thats until he felt your hands on his waist, gently gripping onto the material of his suit.

"Youre in the wrong spot, darling." You had murmured into his ear, gently guiding him to where you wanted him. A smirk was so evident in your tone, even if he wasnt looking at your face.

The hands.

The. Gentle. Fucking. Hands.

His stomach quickly got filled with a ton of butterflies, his brain shortcircuiting. He would have frozen in the spot, if the circumstances had allowed him. And he did, at first - was given a slap to the back of his head by Daniel quickly enough to not be noticed, though. Or, thats what he thought - people were talking about it already, and it would continue for days. If not weeks. And not even the fact that you just casually moved him, just like that. Not the placement of your hands - but the fact that he could be seen blushing, all shy, like a little girl.

Despite it not being his victory, it was his favourite podium of all time already. But, who knew. Maybe the next one was gonna be his?

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanart #formula one fanart #fanfiction #formula one fanfics #lando norris #f1 x reader #lando norris fanfic #daniel ricciardo #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando fanart #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando yeswins #this is just a silly post

163 notes · View notes

nolita-fairytale · 10 months

Text

don’t want to walk alone | carmen ‘carmy' berzatto | chapter three: september

summary: the moment we've all be waiting for: you and carmy get married.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 7.1k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist. there is SO much music in this chapter, so per the playlist, it starts with 'it takes two' and ends with 'love story.'

a/n: ok so this chapter was a behemoth to write and i am in fact in love with it. it's taken me days, really weeks, to get what i wanted out of it and i still feel like i could've gone deeper. however, i'm also kind of just happy to have this out in the world and give these two the wedding they wanted me to give them. each moment was curated and thought out, down to the music selection so this chapter is really just a product of me stewing on this idea for quite a bit of time. this is a part of my make my heart surrender universe so check out the masterlist if you haven't read the series! next up? their long weekend at the langham where we really get carmy x reader and moments for just them. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part two | masterlist | part four

“It takes two to make a thing go riiiiight.”

You never pictured the night before your wedding like this, you think to yourself, as you listen to Fak sing, to the best of his ability in a somewhat-decent falsetto, along to the 90s hip hop classic.

Hell, you’re not sure you really ever pictured your wedding, but as you sit, surrounded by the people you love, you can’t see it going any other way than this. You watch as Richie rallies up as many people as he can for shots of Mallort, recounting that infamous morning at Ceres – a story he’s told over and over again, yet still manages to tell as animated and boisterously as the first time you heard it.

You groan as you watch Richie successfully convince Gary to take a shot with him, Gary’s face twisting into a look of disgust in response to the foul taste of the Chicago liquor, as Sugar reminds him that he should know better by now.

Carmy gives your knee a squeeze while simultaneously brushing off Richie’s attempt at shoving a shot in his direction. You laugh, a warm feeling filling you to the brim (could be the beer, could be being surrounded by your people), while Sydney jumps right into her best Rob Base impression.

It just so happens that your continuously put-off ‘let’s shoot for next month’ karaoke plans with a few staff members from The Bear coincided with plans to go out with friends before the wedding, which is how you’ve found yourself here.

After a lovely dinner at The Bear, your parents went back to the hotel for the night, insisting that you two go and have your fun. And as much as you would’ve loved to have brought your mother-who-has-a-doctorate-in-music-theory to karaoke night, she much preferred a good night’s sleep.

The crowded bar claps enthusiastically as Fak and Sydney wrap up their song, finishing their truly-made-up-only-for-comedy dance moves. You giggle, exchanging another glance with Carmy, as your friends take their bows, before shuffling off of the stage.

You hear the loud boom of the emcee’s voice through the microphone as he says:

“And up next we got… Tina!”

“Let’s go, T!” you shout through hands crowded around your mouth, in an effort to increase your volume of sound.

Carmy cheers, clapping his hands together as Richie enthusiastically chants Tina’s name while Tina makes her way to the stage.

“This is gonna be good,” Sugar nudges you, from where you are, seated in between the Berzatto siblings.

You nod your head in agreement before settling in a little closer to Carmy.

“The queen, herself,” Sydney remarks, gesturing towards the stage as she and Fak both return to your table. Sydney pulls up a chair next to where you and Carmy sit while Fak joins Richie on the other side of it. “And the ONLY act that could follow our exceptional performance.”

“Well, exactly,” you agree, playfully.

You exchange a laugh with Syd, while Carmy playfully rolls his eyes at the two of you.

The crowded bar room goes quiet as soon as Tina reaches the stage, smiling nervously as she grabs the mic.

“This one goes out to our favorite Jeffrey. And his lady Jeff,” she begins, earning a round of cheers and hollers from the group you’re with. Tina blows a kiss you and Carmy’s way, before nodding at the emcee to begin.

“I love you guys.”

You hear the beginning notes of the iconic Etta James tune, gasping in anticipation of her song:

“at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You sigh in admiration, a hand over your heart as Tina continues to sing. Her voice is powerful, soulful – perfect for the song, really – as she continues into the second verse.

“at last the skies above are blue my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you.”

This time, it’s Carmy who steals a glance your way, his mind taken back to that fateful night at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, when he spilled his drink on you so many years ago. You’re entranced, enchanted, with Tina’s performance, and he thinks to himself, that maybe this is the best it’s ever going to get: being here with you, getting to love you, on the cusp of promising you ‘forever’ tomorrow.

Never had he expected that you’d make it this far. You’d always been so much cooler than him – well-liked, talented, funny – in and out of the kitchen, that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to talk to you without vomiting all over your shoes out of nerves.

He can remember that night so vividly: standing there in the restroom of the bar he can barely remember the name of, while you stood across from him with the kind of glare on your face he swore could kill him. But you didn’t, and after many attempts to push you away, you asked him to be your friend, deeming it the day that started it all – a friendship that would teeter the line of friendship and something more, one that would bloom into the greatest love he’s ever known. As much as he hates to give Nate fucking Walker any kind of credit, he’ll the be first in line to say he’s glad the jagoff pushed him into you, setting it all in motion.

You can see that Carmy’s become distracted, lost in thought as the song finishes, something behind your favorite pair of blue eyes as the entire bar ignites into a huge round of celebratory claps for Tina’s performance.

You look up over at him, setting your beer bottle down on the table before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I can hear you thinkin’ over there, Berzatto,” you tease him quietly, pulling him from his trip down memory lane. “It’s only the night before the biggest day of your life. Relax.”

Carmy rolls his eyes playfully in response, but before he can properly respond to your jab, the emcee has begun introducing the next karaoke singers to the stage.

“Alright. Looks like I’ve got uh… three singers here this time,” the emcee says, his voice cutting sharply through the crowd of remaining cheers. “Let’s welcome Sydney back to the stage with… Sugar and… the bride to be!”

“What!?” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise as Sydney jumps to her feet.

“But I didn’t-,” you begin to protest, as Sugar pulls you to your feet, tugging on your arm.

“Oh there’s no way in hell we’re letting you sit this one out,” Sugar orders you, as Sydney rushes to your side, ushering you towards the stage.

“Yeah this was your idea!” Sydney simultaneously reminds you.

“Babe! Help!” you call out to Carmy, only to be met with a shrug and a look that says ‘don’t think I could if I tried.’

“Oh, he’s in on this,” Sydney adds, which does explain why he didn’t even attempt to help you when your friends began dragging you out of your chair. “So don’t even think about asking him for help.”

“Wh-? But I don’t even know what we’re singing!” you continue to protest, looking from Sugar to Sydney as they push you onto the stage with them.

“Trust,” Sydney reassures you, her face serious, while Nat slides a sash over you (one you’ve refused to wear all night) that has the word, ‘BRIDE’ printed over it in huge gold lettering. You groan, sending a glare in Nat’s direction, even though you know it’s all in good fun.

You hear Richie shout, while Fak and Marcus clap loudly, and Carmy laughs, shouting words of encouragement your way.

You know there’s no use in putting up a fight, especially since this was your idea anyways, as you begrudgingly take one of the three wireless mics. Before you can ask once more, what the hell Syd and Nat signed the three of you up to sing, a distinct slide of piano keys comes in, lighting up the karaoke screen in front of you.

You grin immediately, in recognition, and to your two best friend’s delight, as they smile too, raising the mics to your lips to sing:

“friday night and the lights are low looking out for a place to go where they play the right music getting in the swing you come to look for a king.”

You laugh as your friends point towards Carmy on the last line. The three of you continue to sing the next part with reckless abandon, and all is forgiven.

You could care less about how the three of them conspired against you to get you up here. All that matters now is that you’re here, singing one of your favorite songs with your best friends, grooving and dancing to the ABBA classic, as you prepare to marry your best friend.

“you can dance you can jive having the time of your life ooh, see that girl watch that scene digging the dancing queen.”

"what good is love without any strings?" dayglow, 'close to me'

“Baby.”

Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice.

“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open.

Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day.

“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.”

“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning.

“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband.

“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you.

“‘S that so?” he mumbles, playfully.

“Uh huh,” you nod with a chuckle, this time playing along. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Instead of replying with words, Carmy swiftly wraps an arm around you, before flipping you so that you’re the one on your back this time. You let out of a shriek and a laugh as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before adding:

“How could I ever?”

You shrug casually, “Weeeelll…. you just have so much going on up there.” You reach up to where Carmy hovers above you, brushing a golden curl out of his eyes as you continue your little dance.

“You know, between the restaurant and all that time spent being a genius,” you joke, bantering with Carmy. “Don’t know how you have the time to remember silly little things like wedding dates and what not.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carmy laughs, shaking his head incredulously, before pressing another kiss, this one much deeper to your lips again.

And this time, as he pulls away, he gives you one of those languid looks that pierces right through your soul replying much more seriously this time with:

“I could never forget you.”

The way he says it with such conviction takes your breath away, and you know that Carmy means it. The double meaning isn’t lost on him either.

It’s one of the reasons he called you all those years ago to come teach Marcus; it’s why you ended up in Chicago:

Because as much as he tried, as damn good at compartmentalizing as he’d always been, he really could never forget you. Carmy shakes his head once more, a playful smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you again, wondering when the hell he got this fuckin’ sentimental. As he places his mouth over yours, you’re more than happy to switch gears into doing this dance for a little longer.

Carmy traces light shapes against your skin, his mouth pouring love into yours with every kiss, with every drag of his tongue. You gasp as he grinds his hips into yours, making it clear where he’d like this all to go. You pull away, only for a moment, giggling cheekily.

“Babe, I-,” you begin to protest, as Carmy chuckles, continuing to kiss you with zero intention of stopping “We… we’re going to be late.” This time, you feel his hands snake underneath the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in, sending chills down your spine.

“And-, Carm-, I-, I have to do my hair for-, … and what about-, my parents, they’ll-,” you stammer through, your thoughts becoming all kinds of disorganized with the way Carmy’s lips move against your neck this time.

“I’ll be quick,” he answers with an aplomb you didn’t know he had in him.

“I don’t know if that’s the flex you think it is,” you tease him as his hands begin to cup your breasts, your body responding with an involuntary arch of your back.

“How fast I can make you come? I think it might be?” he murmurs against your lips, cockily.

“Carmy,” you moan, as he begins to pull your t-shirt up higher, making it incredibly difficult to think of your to-do list for much longer.

“Oh fuck it,” you sigh, deciding that, perhaps there’s no harm in getting the honeymoon started a little early anyways.

“That’s my girl,” Carmy whispers against you, grinning like a Cheshire cat as you surrender to him.

And he’s right about this too.

How fast he can make you cum deserves all kinds of bragging rights, awards – a Nobel Peace prize, even – and you’re not sure why you thought getting a head start on doing your hair would’ve been the better idea in the first place. You spend the morning in the arms of the man you plan to spend forever with as he writes love letters, promises to give you the world, declarations of adoration with the pleasure he brings you. And besides, you’re not running all that behind on time anyways – something you realize, as the two of you get out of the shower (a round two, really).

It takes a little longer than expected – mostly due to the fact that you and Carmy can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other – but against all odds, the two of you pull up to the courthouse right on time.

It’s a sight for sore eyes: you, running hand in hand with your husband-to-be in a white, halter-cut wedding dress while Carmy follows along, in a classic black suit – no tie around the neck – as the two of you hurry into the courthouse.

Sure, you could’ve tried to get here early – saved a little time and stress – but where’s the fun in that?

The two of you approach your families, hand in hand, to the sounds of your heels clicking against the marble floors of City Hall. The actual ceremony at City Hall, you’d both decided, would be family only.

Since you weren’t making a huge deal of it, you viewed this part as necessary paperwork, while the party itself could function as the ceremony and reception. But as soon as you see the look on your parents’ faces, you know this is more than just a few signed papers. You watch as their faces change, from impatient, waiting, eager, to in awe and emotional as you walk towards them.

You hear Ava shout your name, immediately dropping her dad’s hand as she runs towards you.

“Ava!!” you exclaim, bending down in your heels and white dress to scoop her up into a hug. You spin her around, just for a moment, before setting her back down on the floor.

“You look like a princess,” she says, completely in awe, her eyes wide as she looks up at you.

“You look like a princess, sweetie,” you reply, before giving her another hug. “And you know I can’t wait to hear your song, right?”

“I picked the best one,” she grins, proudly.

“I’m sure you did,” you reply confidently, with a playful wink.

“Oh-ho! Pay up, Rick,” Sugar mutters smugly, to Richie, as Carmy busies himself with greeting both of your parents.

Richie groans, muttering something profane as he not-so-discreetly hands Nat a $20 bill, earning a quizzical look from both of your parents that travels from Carmy and then to you.

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes, this time directing this one towards your parents as he holds up both hands, respectfully bowing his head.

You send a playful glare Richie’s way, earning a sardonic laugh from Natalie, as you push right past him and over to your parents.

“Oh sweetie,” your mom gasps, pulling you in for a tight squeeze.

“Hi, Mom,” you grin, as you hug her. “Dad!”

“My God, honey, you look beautiful,” your dad says, as it’s his turn next. You hug your dad, exchanging a few words about the morning, asking how they slept, how the hotel is, as your mom and Carmy hug it out.

This time, he turns his attention towards Carmy, so you release him, letting the two of them have their moment.

Taking your chance, while your parents are otherwise distracted, you make your way over to where Sugar and Richie stand.

“What? You guys were betting on whether or not we’d be late?” you ask Sugar, an eyebrow quirked in Richie’s direction.

“Listen,” Sugar sighs, cupping your face in her hands, endearingly. “You and Carm are nothing if not consistent.” You exchange a laugh with your almost-sister-in-law because you know she’s right. “And for the record, I bet that you’d be-.”

“Just in time!” the judge says, as he approaches the six of you, slipping his judge robe over his shoulders, black leather fold pressed against his chest. “You guys ready to get started?”

Carmy looks over at you, as if he’s waiting for you to take the lead here, and you nod, before the both of you turn back to the judge.

“Yes.”

“Great,” he smiles, clapping his hands together once. “Then let’s get you two married!”

"sooner or later, you'll find yourself right where you were, on the corner went looking for her, she had somethin' to tell you, she can't quite remember, but wait for a second, it always comes back to her, you always come back to her." -- the japanese house, 'morning pages'

And after dotting all appropriate i’s and crossing all necessary t’s, with one signed marriage license later, you, Carmy, your parents, Richie and Ava, Sugar, and Judge Thompson find yourself on the green roof of City Hall.

Carmy stands across you, his hands in yours, offering you a lifetime with one look from the most expressive blue orbs you’ve ever found yourself in.

“If you’d like to say something, if you prepared any vows… now would be the time,” Judge Thompson says, offering you and Carmy both the space to do so.

“Oh I think we-,” you begin, ready to decline the opportunity since you figured you’d save it for the reception.

“Actually uh, yeah. Can we?” Carmen interjects, sending you a look of reassurance.

“Of course,” Judge Thompson nods, giving you and Carmy the floor.

“Carm, I didn’t prepare anything for-,” you begin, but he’s quick to put your mind and heart at ease and he interjects with:

“It’s okay. I did.”

“Oh.”

You hadn’t expected this, since you both agreed you’d save any kind of speeches that may or may not happen today during the reception. But as Carmy’s palms grow clammier, a nervous look in his eyes as he searches for the words he’s practiced over the last few days, it becomes clear that he’s been planning this.

“As you know… I’m not always great with words,” he begins, almost apologetically, letting out a small laugh as he looks to Richie for reassurance. In turn, Richie gives Carmy a sympathetic nod, and you’re practically melting over the fact that he probably asked Richie for help with this.

Let it rip.

“I just uh-,” Carmy stammers, because he really, really wants to get this right. “Well, I’ll keep it brief.” He takes a breath, letting all of his nerves out on the exhale before beginning again.

Let it rip, buddy.

“I have loved you for so long – I think maybe since the day you brought me soup after I uh… you know, spilled my drink on you,” he states, earning the sweetest laugh from you, your friends, and family that came to witness.

“-- so I promise to love you for even longer, for forever. You changed my life.”

You exhale, trying your best not to cry right here and now, thankful for the mysterious powers of waterproof mascara.

“Jeez, no pressure,” you joke, dryly, before taking another breath, this time approaching your words with much more seriousness.

“Carmen. I’m so happy… that I changed your life,” you begin, cheekily, earning a laugh from your witnesses once more. “Because you changed mine. And I promise to love you forever.”

‘I love you,’ Carmy mouths to you, before nodding towards the judge to signal that you’re both done with your vows.

“Alright then,” Judge Thompson smiles, looking from you and then to Carmen, before uttering the question that will change the course of your life forever.

“I do,” Carmy replies, his voice even, sure, ready.

Natalie steps up this time, handing Carmy your ring, and you watch, teary eyed and full hearted as he slides it onto your left ring finger.

“And do you take Carmen Anthony Berzatto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Judge Thompson repeats the question, this time for you to answer.

“Yeah, why the hell not?” you reply, earning a groan from your mother and a playful chuckle from your father.

“Yes. I do.”

At Richie’s encouragement, it’s Ava this time who steps up, handing you Carmy’s ring, with the sweetest most excited smile on her face as she looks from you to Carmy. You thank her, before returning your attention to Carmy once more. His eyes search your face, and there’s something so soft, so genuine in them that you think you’re going to cry as you help him put on his new piece of jewelry as well.

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” Judge Thompson concludes, contently.

“Should we-, do we kiss?” Carmy asks, looking from you to Judge Thompson.

“I’m just a civil servant but you may, yes,” he answers lightheartedly.

“Let’s go for it,” you shrug, taking a step towards Carmy.

Instead of answering, he smiles, stepping towards you before planting one on you in front of your friends and family that were invited to this brief ceremony.

While Sugar claps gleefully, Richie claps along muttering a ‘get a room,’ while you remind Carmy to keep it PG enough for your parents. You giggle, slowly pulling away from the kiss that begins the rest of your life with the man that you love.

“We did it, baby. We’re married,” you chuckle, in disbelief.

“Finally,” Carmy sighs, and you can see his smile from his lips to the crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

It doesn’t take long for your mom to usher both you and Carmy over to a spot in the garden she thinks will be best for pictures, just as the photographer arrives. She wasn’t wrong when she insisted you hire one, that you’d want to remember this day for the rest of your life. The photographer, who is incredibly talented, gets the shots needed up here in the garden, then downstairs, and outside, before you’re all off to Sugar’s place for the reception.

As you and Carmy sit in the car, having taken a separate one than your parents, you’re giddy with anticipation.

It’s all so surreal.

Never in his life did Carmy picture it ever getting this good, but as he looks over at you, your head resting on his shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling to himself.

“We did it, sweet girl. We’re married,” he says, repeating your words from earlier.

“Yeah,” you grin, lifting your head off of his shoulder.

“We are, Bear.”

"give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

“No, Sugar! That’s not supposed to go out yet. Everything’s goin’ out family style. Let’s just take out the apps for-,” Carmy exclaims, stressed over the execution of your wedding reception-slash-brunch, because he just can’t help himself.

“Fuckin’ Christ, Bear!” she snaps at her brother. “Will you calm down and let us handle this?”

“I just want everything to-,” Carmy begins, his face blushing a shade darker.

“To go right. We know. And we know we’re just taking out apps, alright? Everyone else is outside, and everyone’s having a good time so just… relax,” she suggests, her tone serious because she’s just about to kick Carmy out of the kitchen.

Carmy shifts nervously, hyper-fixating on the happenings of the kitchen, his eyes tracking the movements of one of his caterer, Derek’s, sous chefs. It’s almost as if he needs to give himself a distraction as he asks, blankly:

“Do you uh… you think Mom is actually gonna show?”

Sugar pauses, the question throwing her.

“I… I don’t know. I called her yesterday. She never picked up. What do you think?” she replies, her voice quiet.

With your encouragement, you and Carmy had sent his mother an invitation to the brunch, only it’s been Sugar who’s followed up with her.

“We did what we needed to and if she doesn’t come, then she doesn’t come. I’m not pushin’ it,” Carmy had explained, justifying his actions, or rather, lack there of, to you.

She’s doubtful, but Nat can’t help the tiny glimmer of hope she has in her heart that Donna might show, even if she knows it’s unrealistic. In fact, her mom had barely been interested in stopping by as of late, ever since she’d told the Berzatto matriarch that she was pregnant. She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t matter – that it’s probably better if Donna doesn’t show – but it doesn’t help ease the disappointment she feels about the situation as a whole.

“Doubt it, honestly. Never even got an RSVP so,” Carmy shrugs, his eyes following one of the caterers as the woman plates a few Hors d'oeuvres on a large serving platter.

Before Sugar can say anything else about their mom, Carmy’s impulse takes over as he opens his mouth to give feedback to one of Derek’s assistants.

“Carmy!” she snaps, blocking his pathway with her body, before repeating one more time:

“Let. Us. Handle this.”

“I mean, are any of us actually surprised, Nat?” Sydney adds, as soon as she enters the kitchen from where she’s been outside in the backyard, in search of another plate to bring out. “He’s a control freak! We know this!”

“I-,” Carmy starts, knowing it’s no use protesting, as both Sugar and Syd begin guiding him out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“C’mon, Carm. Why don’t you go see what your wife is up to?” Sydney suggests, emphasizing your new title, earning a snicker from Natalie.

“Who’s wife? This wife?” you ask, as soon as your feet hit the bottom of the staircase.

“Woah,” is all Carmy says. He can’t help but stare, gawking at you in your new dress.

You’ve changed out of your near-floor length wedding dress into a sleeveless white blazer dress that’s much more friendly to hanging out with your friends and family outside, kept your hair the same, and put on one of those super stay red lipsticks that you’re eager to put through its paces.

It’s as if time stops when he sees you, and Sugar and Syd both notice, using this time to retreat back to their duties. The only thing that can break his focus right now is the way that you let a carefree laugh fly from your lips, as soon as you see that Natalie’s using the future baby’s baby gate that Nat must’ve purchased early, to officially block Carmy from coming back to the kitchen.

“What?” Carmy asks, only to be met with a gesture towards what Natalie is doing.

He frowns, immediately seeing the baby gate his sister has put up.

“You know, I’m not a baby,” he pouts at his sister.

“Then stop acting like one!” she parries right back, before disappearing into the kitchen to help out your caterer.

Quick to console your husband, you wrap your arms around your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“They’re only trying to make sure we have a good time, Bear,” you offer, sympathetically, only to be met with a heavy sigh because you know it feels near-impossible for him not to be in the kitchen.

“You trust Derek right?” you ask this time, referring to the caterer that Carmy hand-picked for your wedding.

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Okay. Then let’s go out there. Make our grand entrance,” you suggest, a playful smile on your lips.

“Yeah,” Carmy nods again, this time a little more sure about taking a step away from what’s happening inside the kitchen. You take his hand, leading him towards the back door that opens up to the backyard.

You’re truly amazed at what everyone involved has been able to do this morning, while you and Carmy were off at the courthouse getting married. Long tables pushed together and covered with tablecloths function as the main attraction of the you-and-Carmy-wedding-reception-brunch, filled with ceramic plates, printed menus, apps on serving platters, taper candles and flowers in all kinds of little to big vases.

The minute the two of you enter the backyard area that’s been transformed into a wedding venue, you’re met with cheers, ooo’s and aaaaah’s, claps, and congratulations by your friends and family.

“Sugar really knocked this out of the park,” Carmy says, in awe as he takes in the scene. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to trust, I guess.”

You nod, happy to hear the confidence in his voice as you agree, “That’s my guy!”

There’s a banner that hangs across a much smaller table, the one that holds the stunning wedding cake Marcus has made for you that reads, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

“See? I told you I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Berzatto,” you joke with Carmy, as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the table.

“I think I like the sound of that more than I should,” Carmy smirks, a glimmer in his eyes that says ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’

“Can’t wait for you to show me later,” you wink, referring to the long weekend you plan on spending with Carmy as a pre-honeymoon. “C’mon. We should probably go say hello.”

“So… you two married now or what?” Marcus asks, as soon as the two of you approach the table.

You hold up your left hand, showing off your new ring, earning grins and more cheers from your friends and family.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he celebrates, while Tina simultaneously and enthusiastically cries out: “Congratulations, babies!”

The plan is to divine and conquer. While you chat with Gary, Carmy lets himself become enveloped in Tina’s arms and praise, as the two of you make your way down the table saying hello to your guests: your parents, Marcus, Tina, Ebra, Fak, Gary, a few others from the restaurant, while.

Carmy’s glad you decided to keep this wedding small: close friends and family only, because he’s not sure he could’ve done any more of this. It’s just close friends from the restaurant and your parents. You’d even decided earlier that this weekend would be chill enough that you’d celebrate with Maya and Liz a few months later when you and Carmy stop in New York before the official honeymoon, planning another celebration with your New York people for later.

Besides, you don’t mind celebrating you and Carmy a few more times, after all.

Finally, you’re both able to settle into the empty chairs seated right next to your parents in the middle of the table labeled ‘bride’ and ‘groom.’ It’s a Saturday well spent, being celebrated by some of your favorite people in the world on a day you made a promise to your favorite person in the world. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the kitchen to join you at the table: Sugar, Richie, Sydney, and Pete, and once the meal is served, family style, you’re pulling up chairs and insisting that Derek and his team join you as well.

The menu is perfect, and you can see why Carmy’s been trying to get this guy to come work for him for so long. Next to Carmy’s, this carbonara might be your second favorite carbonara on the planet. After all the eating, drinking, and merry-making, it’s Richie who steps up to start the speeches, gently tapping a butter knife against a champagne glass as he stands at the table.

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he asks, his voice loud. Richie raises his champagne glass as he begins his speech with:

“Now as the best man and this Bobby Flay-motherfucker's cousin, I think I earn the right to kick this thing off, eh?” earning a laugh from everyone around the table.

“To Carmy and his much, much better half,” he continues, earning a laugh from everyone around the table. Your mom squeezes your hand under the table, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Sydney nudging Carmy softly as Richie addresses you.

“You once made me $150 richer.” You laugh, exchanging a look with your now-husband, as you fondly remember the day you returned to Chicago, only to learn that the entire restaurant staff of The Bear had been betting, not on if, but on when you’d return.

“You see, we all took bets – all of us – that you were comin’ back after that first week you spent here in Chicago, and you know why? I think it was obvious to any jagoff with a pair of eyes that what you and Cousin had was something special – something not to be missed, or overlooked, or skipped over. And thank God you two idiots woke up and figured it out yourselves. You did good, cousin. And I know your brother would’ve wanted to be here for this. I love you, man. I love you both.”

“To this very special day, and to the rest of your lives. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone repeats, raising their glasses, clinking in celebration.

The upside to having a small wedding party is having a small wedding party, and the downside is that everyone who feels the need to get in a word does so. While Ebraheim waxes on about love as a metaphor, Marcus keeps his toast short, leading to the cutting of your wedding cake:

Vanilla bean cake, with a clementine curd, a swiss meringue buttercream, decorated with delicate flowers, citrus, and dollops of curd to finish.

Richie slips out with Pete momentarily, earning a few quizzical looks from both Carmy and Nat as she gets up from the table to make sure they’re not trading punches in the driveway. It’s not till Richie returns with Pete, carrying a rented little karaoke machine for Ava. Hand in hand, you watch as Natalie guides Ava up and out of her chair, and over to the head of the table, handing her the microphone.

“You ready, sweetheart?” she asks, earning a confident nod from Ava.

The beginning of the famous Taylor Swift begins to play, and you and Carmy exchange a knowing look as she begins to sing along.

“we were both young when i first saw you i close my eyes and the flashback starts i'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air.”

As Natalie and Pete watch on, Pete hugs his wife close to her, tears in his eyes as he whispers:

“This is going to be us very, very soon.”

“Yeah,” Nat nods, holding back her own tears as she notices how proud Richie looks, and how happy Ava seems to be.

It’s not that she wants Donna here. Realistically, she knows that it would be a nightmare, most likely descending into drama and chaos from the minute she walked in, but she can’t believe that her own mother didn’t come to her son’s wedding. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it hurts more than she imagined, doing this, watching Carmy get married, having this baby with Pete, all without her.

Ava finishes her Taylor Swing song to a resounding and enthusiastic round of applause. Marcus cheers her on while you and Carmy share a soft, chaste kiss, welcoming Ava with open arms as she runs towards you.

“That was so good, baby,” Richie exclaims, when it’s his turn to scoop Ava up into his arms as you get out of your seat. Allowing Richie to sit next to Carmy while the two gush over her performance, you get up, eager to help put the karaoke machine away.

As she watches, Nat reminds herself that this is what family looks like – this is the family she wants for her baby – even if it means something, someones, are missing.

And it’s as if she can’t hold back her tears anymore, excusing herself as she jerks her body away from Pete’s grasp, hurrying back inside so as not to cause a scene.

“What just-?” Pete begins.

“I’ll go,” you assure him, having witnessed the whole interaction. “I-, it’s not you, Pete. I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take you long to find Nat, though she’s not where you expected her to be, having run all the way upstairs when you find her sitting on the floor of the baby’s nursery – one you helped paint and get ready over a month ago.

“Hey, everything alright?” you ask, as you gently push the door open.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping tears out of her eyes as she realizes she’s no longer alone.

“Nat, what… what’s going on?” you ask her, joining her on the floor.

But it seems as if your question only makes it worse as her face crumbles once more, beginning to cry.

“Oh no! I-, Nat, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it even worse.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just these… stupid pregnancy hormones!” she exclaims, frustratedly, earning a small laugh from the both of you.

She takes a beat, and then a breath, and then finally, she feels ready to tell you.

“It’s Mom,” she admits, even though she really doesn’t want it to be. “I just can’t believe she didn’t show. It’s stupid, I know.”

You nod in understanding, before scooting a little closer to her, “It’s not stupid! And I’m sorry. For the both of you, really. Carmy doesn’t want to talk about it but, I know he’s some combination of relieved and disappointed too.”

Sugar sighs, “Yeah that uh, that sums it up pretty well. About anything involving Mom these days.”

Nat takes another breath, and another beat, because she knows she’s safe to share this with you.

“I just… I’ve just been thinking a lot… with the baby and everything. About family. About motherhood. I mean, your parents are so great and I-. I’m just sad for us, you know?”

“I’m sad for you too,” you empathize, rubbing soothing circles on her back, before leaning back on both of your hands instead.

“God, I’m so sorry. It’s your wedding day and I’m causing all the drama,” Nat begins to apologize.

“Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for!” you interrupt her, quick to dismiss any notion of that. “You lent us your house and put together all of this in your backyard on top of accompanying us to the courthouse! You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sugar nods slowly, processing what you’ve just said, realizing that you and Pete have been such big role models of unconditional love for her.

“Wanna know what I think?” you ask, your voice a little more optimistic this time.

“What’s up?” she asks back, stealing a glance your way.

“I think… that now that I’m a Berzatto… and with your little Bear on the way,” you begin, painting her the picture. “We’ve got a whole new chance to write a new chapter for the Berzattos.”

She looks your way once more, because these are the words she didn’t know she needed to hear.

“And with that… we can make this… make our families anything we want them to be filled with love, and joy, and-, well, only a little drama because you know, you guys are… you. But… Sug. This can all start with us, you know?”

“You really think so?” she asks you, a hopeful look in her eyes.

“Yeah,” you answer, confidently.

She nods slowly once more, almost as if she’s letting herself believe them.

“Thank you. For checking in on me. For… this,” she says softly, sniffling again.

“That’s what sisters are for,” you repeat her words back to her, one’s that she’s said to you time and time again.

“We should probably get back out there,” Sugar suggests, sitting up a little taller this time.

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” you sigh, disappointedly, this time making a joke as you continue with: “We don’t want to start any rumors about us running away together.

Nat snorts with laughter, thanking you for always making her laugh, as you stand up, making your way to your feet. You hold out your hands, helping Nat up to hers this time, before the two of you head back downstairs.

“Hey,” Carmy says, as soon as he sees the two of you. “Pete said you disappeared.”

“We were just talking about some stuff,” you reply, sharing a look with Sugar before releasing her hand.

“I’ll leave the two of you to it,” she says, before slipping out through the back door.

“Everything okay?” Carmy asks, his brow knitted together in concern.

You nod, “Yeah, she’s alright. How’re you doing?”

“Today? I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replies, a smile on his lips that makes you melt.

“Damn right you are,” you reply, pressing your lips against his.

It’s a private moment for just you two, where you can kiss him like you want to, and you have to admit that the lipstick holds up. Wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands go to your waist, you propose a grand idea to your husband:

“Now that cake has been cut… what do you say… we spend a little more time with our guests, say our goodbyes… then we get our honeymoon started early? Think uh… our room at the Langham should be ready by now.”

“Thought we already did that this morning,” Carmy smirks, kissing you again.

You giggle, leaning your forehead against his, “You know what I mean, jerk.”

Carmy scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as he feigns hurt, “Married for a few hours and you’re already insulting me.” Instead of adding anything else, he simply pulls you in closer by your hips murmuring against your lips:

“Alright then, Mrs. Berzatto. Then let’s go say goodbye to our guests.”

“it's a love story, baby, just say, "yes" – taylor swift, ‘love story’

464 notes · View notes

animemensblog · 10 months

Text

Invisible

Gojo x gn!reader

Summary: what happens when Gojo meets someone who is immune to his six eyes?

No warnings :)

It was a hot day, sun beaming down and causing sweat to build along your hairline. Your headphones weren't helping with the soft muff cupping your ear and rubbing against your skin. Although it's tolerable in the shade, that means nothing when you decided today all your errands would be done by walking or train.

As you turn the corner you notice a small convenient store with a huge sign advertising 'buy one get one' on all cold items during the summer. The choices were clear; spend more money to cool off or finish walking home and die the second you enter your no ac apartment.

When you opened the store door you could feel the vibration of the bell and a faint ringing that seemed to last forever. Your feet were sore but weren't dragging, they almost felt like they were floating. You reach down in the fridge, grabbing water and a juice. The condensation quickly dripped off your hands and onto the ground, as the drop falls it splatters and hits your leg.

You stare at the water dropping towards your ankle, soaking a part of your sock. It quickly becomes uncomfortable, and what better way to ignore it other than changing your playlist?

You start shuffling to the counter, standing behind a tall white haired man waiting in line. As it moves forward, you can hear the cashier and the customer talking very loudly. As if their heads are against your chest and yelling into it, the vibrating and thumping echoed in your lungs and stomach.

As you click on a new song, an awkward laugh in front of you erupts, shortly after the stranger turned around and hit you. His arms had swung and threw you to the ground, along with your drinks and phone which managed to disappear. When you look up he's standing there, staring like he saw a ghost, his eyes were blown wide and his mouth partially agape.

At first, you thought he was just shocked. I mean, wouldn't you be if you hit someone to the ground? Then, you noticed your shorts slid down your thighs, revealing the rather brightly colored underwear peaking through. Your legs shut as you stand up, giving him a nasty glare and a meek "pervert".

Gojo on the other hand can't grasp how he didn't notice you, or even hear you behind him. His six eyes are supposed to help him, right? So how did he miss you approaching, standing there for minutes and managed to throw you to the ground? It didn't make sense.

"I'm not a pervert" Gojo says as he follows you around the store

"Your stalking says otherwise"

His pace picks up so he's less than a foot behind you, "ha! I bet you wish that's what I was doing!" He says, striking a small pose in hopes you'd notice. "Really, I just want to make sure you're ok-"

You turn around, almost chest to chest. Usually he'd be excited someone so pretty came so close but that look said maybe he shouldn't be happy. "Leave me alone" you spit before going back to searching, he watches as you turn into the isle to the right and follows.

"I can help you, ya know! I've been told my sight is the best" he boasts, turning into the isle he saw you go into.

"Really? Because you didn't see me at all before" you mumble behind him, once again he quickly turns around to find you kneeling.

"How are you doing that?" His tone had switched, it sounded like he was worried, concerned. Almost upset.

"Kneeling?" You question

"No! That's not what-" He shakes his head and sighs, they're just a normal person he thinks to himself. "Nevermind" he sighs again, then went back to looking for your drinks.

You think finally, he's gonna leave me alone. Thats until he's yelling for you from another isle, "ohhh strangerrrr!" He says dramatically, "I found your drinksss!" You can see him waving his lanky arms over the shelving.

"Most annoying man I've ever met, and I've known him less than an hour. This is some bullshit for an already bullshit day.." you continue mumbling as you almost stomp to the other side.

When you turn the corner, he's still waving his arms. He truly looked ridiculous with that big ass smile, jumping up and down like he's done the impossible. You sharply inhale before getting a running start- if he isn't going to acknowledge you when you're in the same isle, you'll just have to get it back on your own.

Despite how loud the impact of your feet was, to everyone else they were silent like paper landing completely flat on tile floor. You jump up as soon as he comes down and yank the bottles from his hands then landing before you hit the fridges. The only sound anyone else heard was you landing- the running, deep breaths and mumbling had gone unnoticed.

For a third time, the Gojo Satoru couldn't see or hear you. You. A normal person he just happened to run into while he was picking up snacks for himself, Geto and Shoko.

"You're quite annoying, you know that?" You ask as you make your way back down the isle towards the counter. Gojo doesn't realize when he started walking, gravity was just pulling him towards you. It was screaming that he needed to know who you are, how you operate, every detail a human can possibly know about themselves. More specifically, he wants to know if you're good or bad, if you're loyal or untrustworthy, if you're single or taken.

He marches up beside you with (and you hate to admit it) a charming and bright smile. He nudges your hands out of the way and pays the cashier, then turns to you and only gives you one of the bottles.

"You can have the other one later!" He says smuggly before snatching his receipt from the guys hand.

"You're a cute couple" the worker says.

"What? Ew no" you argue while leaving Gojo at the counter. He's embarrassed to say the least and only shrugs as he follows you, again.

He silently, and blindly, followed you halfway back to your apartment before you turned around to acknowledge him. "Are you actually a stalker or something?" He takes a step closer to hover over you, placing a tiny flick to your forehead.

"How are you going to hear my answer if you're wearing those headphones?" He softly asks

"I can hear perfectly fine, unlike you." Your eyes narrow at him and he chuckles. That gentle laugh has your heart skipping a beat or two.

He hums as he opens your water and takes a gulp. "Hey! That's mine you creep" you say as you try to grab it.

"I'm not a creep!" He laughs, raising his arm above his head.

"You wouldn't be following me if you weren't" you say inbetween jumps.

He once again avoids the question, this time by walking around you. "Where we heading?" He asks

"I'm heading home, you're leaving me alone."

"Aw why can't I come?" He pouts, you scoff at him while you cross the street.

"Isn't it obvious? You're a strange man following me like a lost puppy. Of course you don't belong in my house."

"But I want to go!" Gojo whines

"Why?"

Why does he want to, he wonders, is there even an appropriate answer?

"I wanna know you" he mumbles as he looks down at you, waiting to see your reaction. He imagined it as cute, sweet maybe, instead your eyebrows are furrowed and you looked mad. And yet, you let him follow you. In silence, of course.

Your mom did say make friends. I mean, she never said bring strangers into your home, especially when they borderline harassed you. But you can't shake him off, plus he's seems nice? However nice someone can be after bothering and assaulting you.

You turn onto your street and stop, "how do I know you're not going to hurt me?" Your voice sounded weak to him, even softer than when you called him a pervert earlier.

"Why would I hurt you?"

"Why would you wanna get to know me?"

He chuckles, "why wouldn't I?"

You wanted to gag. What was this, a love sitcom?

"I'll tell you what-" you take a deep breath, "I'll give you my number and if I decide you're not a creep, or a pervert or a stalker, or-"

"I get it" he says as he rubs the back of his neck

"If I somehow decide you're not any of those things, I guess we can hangout."

"Hangout?! It'd be a date!"

You pull out a pen from your bag and grab his arm, "Just because you're not a disgusting man, doesn't mean I'll go out with you. It just means you can get to know me, like you said."

"Yeahh but I meant like I'd take you out to dinner or something."

"Then tell me that." you chuckle, a sound that was music to his ears.

"I'd like to take you out to dinner, or something."

"You're weird" you laugh and walk away, when you hear him following you shooed him away and disappeared down a small alley.

When Gojo looks down at his arm, ready to immediately put it in his phone, he sees '9-1-1' and "get help <3" written.

#jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #satoru

543 notes · View notes

hetalimagines · 3 months

Text

General headcanons for Alfred as a boyfriend (SFW)

Here's my first actual post on this blog, hehe... I can't find the ask but someone requested some Alfred headcanons, so here are my rambles about what I think he's like as a boyfriend!

He’s honestly not the most traditionally romantic person. Your relationship is more like friends who make out sometimes. But he does have his own little ways of showing you he loves you!

He’ll put together playlists of songs that remind him of you. They’re mostly loose connections, like maybe a song mentions your eye color, or the lyrics remind him of a date you went on together, or it just sounds romantic and makes him wanna kiss you. He likes to sit with you while you listen (to every single song), and he interrupts the songs a bit to explain why he chose them.

“This one had me thinking what if we were dancing in a ballroom together, and out of nowhere, bam! Zombies bust in. The door crashes to the ground! Our dance turns into one of those cool fighting scenes with the—oh, this part reminded me of the time I woke up early and you were about to fall off the bed. You had a cute bedhead.”

(You have no idea what the lyrics are at this point.)

Dates with him are pretty casual, more like “hanging out” than anything fancy. Maybe you stay at home and watch movies/play games, or you go out for dinner at a local diner, or you go do awful karaoke together, or you go and prank a friend together.

He’s happy as long as he’s with you. Bonus if there’s food and/or drink.

He occasionally takes you out to a more traditional restaurant and dresses for the occasion. They’re usually expensive, too. The food isn’t his preference (too complicated for his palate), but if it makes you happy, he’s all for dealing with it for just one night.

His primary love languages are acts of service and quality time. He’s always doing what he can to help you out (and feel proud of himself in the process). Whether he helps you run errands, runs a bath for you ahead of time, or fluffs your pillow before you get in bed, it’s all because he wants to make your life easier!

He gets a little jealous if you ever spend time with your shared friends without him, or if you spend more time with others than him.

He’s so excited if you take interest in any of his hobbies. Movies? He’ll ask if you want to co-write a script with him. (He’s very relaxed about what exactly ends up in the script.) Archaeology? He has so many random facts to dump on you, and he’ll be super impressed by any knowledge you have on it. Conspiracy theories? Time to watch a bunch of documentaries! He enjoys them despite their flaws, but lets you know exactly when something is false and what actually happened.

He tries to take interest in your hobbies, too, even if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. It could be the most boring thing and he’d still listen and ask you questions about it. If it makes you happy, he wants to know all about it.

Pet names from him consist of things like babe, dude (💀), honey, occasionally sweetie, (jokingly… mostly) prince or princess. It’s all over the place. He’ll call you honey and dude back-to-back sometimes.

He loves debating if you’re comfortable with it! But be warned, he gets very heated about certain topics. His sense of justice is important to him. Otherwise, he’s usually not serious about these debates and doesn’t care who wins.

He tries to keep things light and doesn’t usually let people see his more serious side. He’ll open up to you more over time, however. It’s really him letting a wall down and allowing himself to get closer to you.

Every now and then, he has days where he’s a lot quieter and calmer than usual. He just wants to relax, stay on the couch with you and watch movies or simply chat. Maybe a movie chattering in the background as he tells you about his childhood. He doesn’t try so hard to keep up this energetic, heroic persona.

He’s right back to normal the next day like nothing happened.

Likes to annoy you for fun. Not in a mean-spirited way. He just thinks your responses are cute and has poor impulse control. Poking your cheeks or ruffling your hair or playing an obnoxious song loudly on the stereo while he dances. But he’ll back off if you’re genuinely upset with him. He means no harm.

He loves if you’re willing to play along with whatever he gets up to. Maybe he’s decided he’s going to try and vacuum the whole house while doing a handstand on the vacuum. You can hold onto his legs to help him stay balanced.

This man is very impulsive and has a tendency to get himself hurt. Random bruises all over his body or a cut along his forearm. He bounces back easily, and doesn’t want to fuss over it, but he lowkey likes if you baby him about it. He’ll always say how it’s not a big deal and he can take it, but his heart does this little flutter when you show concern, and even more if you force him to take better care of himself.

He burns himself in the kitchen and you force him to run it under cold water. He’s swooning inside.

He likes to gossip about others, especially over breakfast. He can’t help it; he’s just nosy, and he always has an idea of what’s going on and how he can help out. Huge bonus if you gossip with him!

He loves to feed you, but the majority of the food he brings for you is burgers or tubs of ice cream. He likes to experiment with the burgers’ toppings and seasonings, but they’re all burgers nonetheless.

Every now and then, he does plan some big romantic endeavor. It’s like a surprise. You never know when it’s coming… You wake up one morning and find out he’s booked a week long cruise, your bedroom is filled with balloons, and there’s enough breakfast food on the table to feed an army.

He does this thing sometimes (often) where he swoops in and has to save you. A puddle on the ground? No need to fear! He picks you up and swiftly carries you over it. The safest place for you is in his arms. He’ll even lay down and let you use him as a bridge if you want.

A suspicious penny on the sidewalk? LOOK OUT, IT MIGHT BE A BOMB! Let HIM step on it before you get blown up!

He steps on it. Nothing happens. Better safe than sorry!

If you’re the more independent type, that won’t stop him from trying. He just wants to keep you safe and have you appreciate his efforts. Being disinterested or resistant will just make him try harder.

Says cheesy stuff like “happy wife, happy life” unironically. He’s also the type to use terrible pickup lines to flirt with you. Totally unaware of how bad they are until you start laughing.

He also doesn’t care that they’re bad. He’s just having fun.

Loves to give you his clothes to wear. Seriously. You want one of his hoodies? Try six of them.

You complain when one stops smelling like him so he puts it on, works out, then gives it back to you like :D! Fixed the problem!

He takes so many pictures of you guys. Videos, too. His phone storage is eaten up by it. His favorite thing is to take selfies together. Usually with some silly filter. Or an even sillier caption.

“me and the babe out shopping” and it’s a picture of you, holding a piece of fruit with the dog ears filter

He’s not the most physically affectionate, but he always gives you morning kisses and especially kisses before leaving the house. He also loves carrying you around (mostly bridal style) in his arms for no reason other than he can. A hand on your back, another on your thighs, your head pressed against his chest. He loves it.

He loves knowing you find him physically attractive! He worries sometimes about being too overweight, so any reassurance that you like his body helps. If you think he’s hot, and you’re hot yourself, that must mean he definitely is.

Has a tendency to call you hot, but he’ll call you other things if it makes you uncomfortable.

Occasionally brags about you and how lucky he is. Not as often as you might think. Though he gets oddly competitive if anyone acts like their partner is better than you and starts spouting whatever he can so everyone knows you’re the absolute best. No competition.

#alfred isn't one of my fave characters so i hope i did him justice ♡#hetalia #hetaila headcanons #hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #aph america #hws america #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #america x reader #reader insert #sugar

148 notes · View notes

jinkiezzsstuff · 3 months

Note

Hazbin Hotel x male reader who transmigrated into it.

Hiya! I’ve never done a request before and i’m sorry I got to you late! I didn’t know where the askbox answers went lmao. I don’t mind doing this but this is my first so hope this tickles your fancy and i did your idea justice, im sorry it’s quite short, i wanted to get it out so i didn’t leave ya hanging! <3

Part 2

Summary: One minute you’re living your normal life, the next you’re in a room, in a place you’d hate to admit looked a little familiar from a show you’d watched in life.

Warnings: Male!Reader Male pronouns, not specified if there was a specific ship between reader- so there’s no romance, implied death, flirty angel, niftys bad boy obsession, reader is discribed as a goat, implied to be tall, all direct hazbin hotel characters; charlie, vaggie, alastor, nifty, pentious, husk, angel (all platonic), swearing NOT PROOFREAD, no mention of hair type/colour, bodytype or skin colour. Let me know if i missed anything!

You just got off working, and after a long crippling day of noise, customers, and well work, all you wanted to do was go home and get in bed.

Looking down at your phone you scrolled through your playlist, trying to find the right song, this walk needed motivation, you needed some umph to get you home and not curl up in a ball and sleep wherever.

While scrolling through your playlist, you failed to notice the manhole up head, uncovered and unassuming. Unfortunately, your walking never ceased.

Waking with your heart pounding, you through your legs off the bed immediately standing, but stalling. “Where the fuck,” You gaped, you spun around in a circle, a large click thump following your direction.

Peering down at the noise you gasped, hooves, big ones in fact. You took a few sharp inhales attempting to calm your heart rate down, you scanned the room. It was ruby red, but besides that blank, vacant with the bare bone essentials.

Behind you was a large window, covered with thick curtain. Carefully you stepped over to it, feeling uncoordinated in your body as you did, you pulled the curtain open.

Mouth falling open, throat closing unable to scream as you stared at the sight in front of you. A red sky, the pentagram overhead, you couldn’t believe no way. Trotting over to the dresser, you eyed your reflection, your horrified face looked back at you.

For the most part, you looked as you did before, albiet the new suit, horns, ears, and the slit eyes you had. Turning to an angle to scoffed at the sight of a tail, muttering to yourself you tucked it upward in the suit jacket and waddled to the door.

Sticking your neck out, you glanced left to right, declaring the cost clear, you stepped out. That was until you heard the disembodied sound of a radio transmitter behind you.

“Good evening voyager!” Shouting you turn defensively, and were met by a large smiling demon. “Holy fuck.” You say in awe staring down just slightly at the radio demon you familiarized yourself with.

“Contrary my dear friend! Nothing holy to me! Ha ha, please follow me, Charlie is ever so worried for you. Crashing down through the roof? Quite the entrance I must say.” The radio demon applauded, literally hearing a round of applause surround you two.

You followed as he pushed but you didn’t say much, this has to be a dream? You recognized him from a show, he’s not real. Although casting your eyes toward him as he strolled, humming along guiding you down the halls, you couldn’t deny the reality you saw.

He looked so 3D, there wasn’t anything animation behind him, he was right there, right in front of you more realistic and creepy than anything you’d ever seen.

“Here we are good sir! The lobby! Shall we?” Alastor questioned sticking his cane down the steps, after a muttered yeah, the two of you strolled down together.

“He’s up!” Charlie chortled shaking Vaggie who stood near her at the bar. “Yes i fetched him just as he tipped his horned head out! Impeccable timing, everyone has just gotten back.” Alastor exclaimed, while Charlie skipped up to you.

“Wow, so glad you’re okay! You came crashing through heh, I’m Charlie! So pleased to meet you,” With a pointy teethed smile you nod at her. “This is my girlfriend Vaggie,” Vaggie only grunted at you, arms crossed and eyeing you. Knowing what you knew, this wasn’t surprising to her this is real, and you could be like Alastor.

“This is Husk, he’s our bar tender, oh shit! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel,” Charlie stuttered, shaking her hands around her head jazzily. Chuckling you smiled at her. “Uh, thank you, for everything actually.”

“Ha, you kiddin kid, you fell through that ceiling like it was paper.” Husk gruffed out, leaning forward at his bar. “Yeah what’s that about?” Vaggie suddenly questioned.

“Guys! Intros first hello, okay, this is Angel Dust, another guest!” Angel dust sauntered up, smirking and sticking a claw at the bottom of your neck, dragging it up to your chin. “How ya doing sugar, I’m Angel, but i can be whatever you want me to be.” Angel practically moaned at you, smiling genuinely you chuckled. “I want you to be arms length away from me.”

You said it without any malice or disgust, genuinely enthralled you were standing in the middle of the characters you loved so much. “Ha! Nice try toots! The only way to keep me back, is via leash.” Laughing along with Angel ignoring the disgust from Alastor and the disappointment for Vaggie, you focused back on Charlie who rocked impatiently on her heels for your attention.

“Okay! This, wait where’s Nifty?” Pausing briefly as ever one checked their feet not seeing the little ball of speed anywhere. “She’ll turn up! Anyways this, is Pentious!” Charlie exclaimed moving onto the snake who stood stick straight.

It was evident he was nervous, so you walked toward him with an easy going smile, as easy going your sharp smile could be. “Hey Pentious, I think your fucking cool I love the inventions you make.” As if you presented the snake with the world itself, his eyes sparkled with admiration and appreciation. “Y-you’ve sseen my inventionsss?” Nodding at him with a smile, he perked up, clasping his hands near his cheek.

As he was in the middle of chanting thank you’s, the air dropped and suddenly the Tasmanian devil herself showed herself. Crawling up your body like a tree, the cyclops eyes you with a wicked evil smile. “Ouuu, you look like such a bad boy none of the others here are bad!” Nifty breathed demonically, pushing herself i. your face.

Again you couldn’t be mad or even scared instead you chuckled, Alastor appear alongside you. “Alrighty Nifty darling, why don’t you go collect some bugs to show him! He needs some christening into this wonderful world.”

That line momentarily stunned you, and you looked towards Alastor with a probably harsher look than you intended. “Ou okay, that’s a gooood idea.” Nifty said scuttling off, and though your eyes were focused on Alastor, he wasn’t even aware of you, paying more mind to the room around you.

Charlie looked to you, head tilted. “So mysterious man, you need a place to stay?” Smiling at her you looked around the room, this was an opportunity you wouldn’t miss out on. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #angel x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #charlie morningstar #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin pentious #nifty hazbin hotel #sir pentious #hazbin hotel oneshots #vaggie #vaggie x reader

136 notes · View notes

jackmanbj · 7 months

Text

first nights

AN: this will have little smut, i wont actually add any smut

summary: you and jack have been dating for a while but never actually went to each others house and one night on a date you suggest you and jack should go back to your place.

requested by a lovely anon🌸

stinka💕- baby im outside.

you- ok, im putting on my shoes then im coming.

you quickly put on your shoes and started walking outside to find jacks car in front your driveway.

you sped walked to the car trying to not keep jack waiting.

once you got into the car jack handed you a bouquet of flowers.

“thank you baby boy.”

“of course, you ready to go?” “yup”

jack started driving as you and him started catching up on things being as thorough you both hadn’t talk in a few days since he had things to catch up on in the studio and tour and you had been busy with school and your business which was doing amazing at the moment.

“hows maggie been babe? i haven’t been able to talk to her in a while.”

“shes really good, shes been asking about you to.”

“ill call her after the date maybe me and her could catch up.”

the rest of the car ride you and jack were sining to music mostly 2000’s music.

jack pulled up and the restaurant and stopped the car, coming over to your side to help you out.

“thanks sweet boy”

once jack helped you out you started walking in the restaurant jack following close behind you.

jack went to speak to speak with one of the servers to let then know he had a reservation.

“right this way sir!”

“baby come on.”

jack started holding your hand as you both walked behind the server to your table.

once you were say you ordered a water and jack ordered a dr. pepper.

the waiter came back with your drinks and took your oder and left.

“what you wanna do after we leave mamas?”

“uhm i was thinking we could go back to my place?”

“you sure?” “only if you want to of course.”

“yea im fine with it, your place it is,” jack gave you a quick smile and took a sip out of his drink

the waiter came back with you and jacks food and you both ate and talked about jacks new songs.

jack paid the bill and you left a $20 tip.

you and jack left jack started walking to the car, jack opened the door for you and you sat in the car and put on your R&B playlist.

“IM COMING BACK FOR GOOD SO LET THEM N*GGAS KNOW ITS MINE! ALREADY GOT SOMEONE THATS WHAT YOU TELL ‘EM EVERYTI-“ “that’s enough baby, you sound drunk!”

you quickly put a pout on your face and turned on your playlist for jacks music.

“and i know you just..hate to see it, can’t imagine bein’ you oo i hate to be it im done faking humble actin like ian conceited ‘cause bitch i am conceited. you know you cant defeat it.”

once you and jack arrived at your house you took off your shoes by the door and started walking upstairs to your room, jack following quickly behind you.

“babe im going to take a shower you wanna join?”

“i dont have any extra clothes mamas.”

“oh..” “i’ll go run home and get some clothes and i’ll be right back, wait for me mk?” “ok!”

jack gave you a kiss and walked out the door

after about 15 minutes you heard a knock on the door.

you quickly went to go open the door and found jack with a big bag full of clothes.

“hi baby”

“hi ma”

you let jack in and he went back to your room, you followed behind him.

he placed his bag on the floor next to your bed and sat down in your chair.

“did you bring your toothbrush?” “fuck.” “i have extra, come here.”

you handed jack the toothbrush and you both started brushing your teeth.

once you were done jack took off his clothes and started to get in the shower and a little after you joined him.

you grabbed the soap and a small towel and started washing jack off.

once you got around his dick you started cleaning it of very slowly making sure to look up at him every so often.

jack was grunting trying his hardest not to moan.

“fuck baby” “oopise”

you bent down and started cleaning up the rest of his body.

once you were done with him, he grabbed another towel and started cleaning you off, he he started making his way to you lower stomach he bent down and started kissing up your inner thighs.

“fuckk jack” you hands went in his hair and he placed a small kiss on your clit and pulled back.

you quickly let out a whine and he chuckled st you.

“oopsie”

“asshole.” “i just did you what you did me, nothing wrong with that mmh?”

jack finished cleaning you off and you both got out the shower.

“jack im about to do my skincare, can you do it with me??” “baby im tired” “please??” “fine”

you and jack went to your vanity and you pulled up an extra chair for jack to sit in.

you put on your headband and grabbed an extra one for jack.

“do you want to do a clay mask, peal off, or a sheet mask?” “sheet” “ok”

you put your soap on you and jacks face, wiped it off then put the face mask on jack.

“JACK!” “huh!?” “stop touching it! your going to mess it up!” “sorry mamas”

after 20 minutes you and jack took off your masks, you put some moisturizer on you and jack, then put eye cream on you both then put your liquid lotion on, not wanting to put it on jack went to lay in bed.

“jack baby” “yes mamas?” “what you wanna do?” “cuddle and watch a movie?” “sure baby.”

you cleaned off your vanity and went to lay down with jack.

you laid on top of his chest and started kissing him all over his pretty face while he laughed.

you stopped kissing his face and started sucking on his neck.

“baby your going to leave a mark, your sucking me like a vampire.” you detached yourself from his neck “put on a movie and shit up jack.” you quickly went back to sucking on his neck after.

jack ended up putting on your favorite movie and grabbed onto your ass.

“jackkk!” “yes ma?” “im tired.” “me to mamas” “can you turn off the movie and we can go to bed?” “sure.”

jack turned off the movie and put his hands back on his resting place.

once jack knew you were asleep he started kissing your forehead and whispering how much he loved you and would do anything for you.

#jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #jack harlow fluff #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x black reader

250 notes · View notes

chinomiko · 8 months

Note

hi! i know it must be kinga boring for you recive questions about castiel bc ppl are obsessed ober him for years but like the other person who asked you a few days ago, i follow you (and ply mcl) for like 10 years and ever since day one my fav boy has been tiel. till this day at the age of 22 he's my favorite and my comfort boy so i joke that he's not a fictional character anymore for me and that i know him personally at this point lol

with that being said, i bet you can imagine that over the years i've been elaborating his personality beyond what the game gives us but he's your boy, you created him therefore you know him and your word is canon, so i'd like to ask a few stuff!! nothing too big, dont worry but here we go.

tiel is an amazing songwriter and since he's very emotional not very good at express it (he does it a lot better now that he's an adult 🥹) i bet his lyricism is very deep and poetic so i have this headcanon that he at first wouldn't like taylor swift because obviously lol but then he payed attention to her lyrics and ends up basically being a swiftie since he likes her writing a lot. what you think about that?

and what kind of music crowstorm sings? like there are any bands that you listen and think "hey this would be in a crowstorm album!" (i have a playlist with this name btw lol). im probably wrong on this one but since this is my fav band i like to think that catfish and the bottlemen are the irl crowstorm, musically speaking

and the last one: another thing that gives me so much comfort is the lystiel friendship. not having present parents, being so closed off i know that lysander is such an important presence on tiel's life because he was basically the only close person he had (specially after the debrah fiasco); if lys didnt had taken the farm and went to college and bla bla bla do you think he would still be part of the band with castiel? im not sure if im mixing the canon with a fanfic i read a while ago (lol) but the band was more of a fun thing to lys, right? he liked writing most (i always imagined him getting into a literature degree or something like this). i also like to think that he helps tiel with lyrics at times, even if he's out of the band (in my head the canon is that they are best friends and pretty close till this day, i pretend lys never left our lives just like armin)

anyways sorry for this big ask 😭 i dont even know if you will read it all but if you do, thank you! and dont feel like you have to answer, i know its too much its just that mcl is my hyperfixation till this day like for real, i have a fanfic that i write still and i even plan on making it into a book sometime. except from the main characters (who is my oc) all the characters will be based on the game's ones :)

ilysm take care and stay hydrated!!

Hellow !

Aww thank you so much and for all your love for Castiel ^^

What a long ask, I'll try to answer in order.

Castiel being a swiftie. No sorry, I don't think he would be. If candy likes her, I'm pretty sure he would try to listen. Also he is an open minded person for sure, so I'm sure he would be curious to listen and study what all the hype is about, it could also help as some sort of far away inspiration, but I don't see him being a fan.

What kind of songs Crowstorm sings This is hard to answer because my musical knowledge is pretty limited and I'm sure I would miss on lot of potential groups or singers that would fit well. And it would require too much research time to have a real detailed and clear answer, but I still did check a bit and here is a little list of songs/groups that I think would have a fitting vibe for Crowstorm

City of the dead - Hollywood Undead The worst in me - bad omens Paranoid - I prevail Trauma Just pretend - Bad omens Ice Nine Kills - A grave mistake Catfish and the bottlemen sounds nice but I think its a bit too soft for what I imagine for Crowstorm.

What is his voice like I think something similar to this (not necessarily the song itself, just the voice. )

bonus, I think this song is so so fitting for Castiel's breakup song, I love it. Dial Tone - Catch your breath

Castiel and Lys friendship. It was'nt mentionned much in UL/LL because I didnt wish to bring too much drama by mentioning Lys when he was not there for the players, but of course Lys and Cast always kept in touch. It is very clearly mentionned in Lys' AL that they keep in touch, that Lys helps Castiel write songs and Cast also like to come to his farm to have a break and spend time together. You should play it if you havent, you'll have a good chunk of Cast and Lys friendship :) However yeah I can confirm that Lys would not like to do it serisouly and professionally, but he'll be all the way around to support and help Cast.

#chinomiko #my candy love #otome game #castiel #original character #canon lore #mcl

215 notes · View notes

darkeralmond · 11 months

Text

UR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!

New To Downtown

Trevor Zegras x Reader

synopsis: trevor and you finally go on your first bar hopping date

warnings: fluff, trevor being adorable

word count: 1.2k

a/n: MAKING A PT 2 WAS SO FUN!! this is such a cute au!

masterlist | request info

i. ii.

A week went by before you and Trevor settled on an official date to go out bar hopping. He had been so busy with games, but he was finally free.

After meeting Trevor, your perception of hockey changed. You watched a ton of his highlights and rewatched full games. Now you had a better idea of hockey which is something you could now talk to him about.

As you fixed yourself up in the mirror, you heard your phone buzz. You lunged for it and checked the notification. It was a text from Trevor.

Trevor

Hey! I’m outside

I’ll be down there in a sec

*liked by Trevor*

You stared at yourself again in the mirror, taking a couple deep breaths. You felt your heart race at a rapid speed as you grew a bit anxious.

You sprayed yourself with more perfume and threw on more lip gloss before heading out. You tucked your lip gloss and phone in your pockets. “I’m heading out!” you yelled out to your friend as you left the apartment.

You went down the elevator and walked through the lobby. You saw Trevor’s car parked on the sidewalk next to your building. You opened the passenger door and sat down. “Hi!” Your smile subconsciously grew wide.

“Hey!” He was grinning from ear to ear. He glanced down at your outfit and nodded his head. “You look pretty.”

Butterflies swarmed your stomach as you glanced off. “Thanks,” you answered, growing bashful in his presence. He snickered at your reaction before putting the car into drive.

“You wanna plug into the aux?” he asked, gesturing to the aux cord. You agreed and hooked up to the cord before pulling up your music.

You didn’t know what music he liked or didn’t like. You just knew you had the playlist that reminded you of the meet-cute moment between you two. “What do you want to listen to?”

“Whatever you want,” he said. The sound of his voice as it briefly rasped caused your breath to hitch while blood rushed to your cheeks, turning them rosy red. He glanced over at you then back at the busy road, a chuckle rose out of him.

You decided to pick that exact playlist that reminded you of the coffee shop. One Thing by One Direction instantly started playing through the speakers.

At first you felt a bit embarrassed that he wouldn’t like it, but you looked over at him and watched as his head bobbed to the beat.

He broke into a smile then glanced over at you. “What song is this? It sounds familiar.” That question alone shook you to your core.

You let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “You don’t know One Direction?!”

This won a laugh out of him. “I don’t usually listen to boy bands!” he argued. You laughed at how defensive he was, causing him to roll his eyes. “Whatever.”

Eventually, you made it downtown where he parked on the side of the road and paid through the parking meter. Now you were able to get a good look at what he was wearing as he stepped out of the car.

He wore a backwards black cap with his hair flowing out of it, a beige button up shirt, and black cargo shorts. Basic, but cute!

He turned to you when he was done paying. “Alright, there’s this place right up the street. That’s a good place to start.” You nodded your head and walked with him side by side.

“Did you already eat?” he asked, looking down at you. You looked up and shook your head. Were you supposed to?

He laughed at the worried expression that swept across your features. “Okay, good. I heard this place has really good food.”

A relieved smile slipped on your face as giggles bubbled out of you. “Perfect.” Eventually, you made it up to the bar. It looked more like a brewery due to its large size. “Woah,” you muttered under your breath.

He chuckled again and looked down at you. “Welcome to a downtown Anaheim bar and grill,” he said.

He held the door open for you and as soon as you stepped in. You looked like a little kid who walked into a candy store.

There was a live cover band on the stage performing country songs. There were people all around dancing, drinking, and chatting. There were servers bringing out food to the people who chose to sit down at the bar and booth area. It was so lively.

A waitress walked up to you two and gave Trevor a polite grin. “Hi, welcome in! Booth for two?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Trevor answered. You felt a pang of jealousy in your heart.

She grabbed a couple menus before leading you two to your designated booth. She placed the menus down and clapped her hands together. “The usual?”

“Snake bite,” Trevor instantly responded. Seems like he was a regular here.

“And what would you like?” She looked over at you awaiting your response.

Your mind went blank as you tried to come up with a drink order. “Uh, do you guys have rum and coke?” She smiled and nodded her head. “Then I’ll have that.”

“Okay, I’ll be right out with those.” She went back to the bar area leaving you and Trevor alone again.

“Do you come here often? She instantly knew your order,” you laughed, trying to figure out why she knew his order.

He laughed, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair before putting it back on. “Yeah, the team always comes here after wins. You should’ve seen the place after the overtime win. The drinks kept coming.”

You laughed, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. Speaking of drinks coming, the waitress came back and placed the drinks down. “Is there anything you would like to start with?” she asked as she pulled out her pen and pad.

Trevor ordered a dozen boneless buffalo wings for the table and she headed off to the kitchen. The band finished the song, the whole bar clapping. “They’re really good,” Trevor said.

You nodded and looked back at the band as they got ready for their next song. Suddenly, you heard the instrumental to one of your favorite country songs, Play It Again by Luke Bryan.

You gasped, “I love this song!”

Trevor smiled, glancing over at the band then back at you. “You wanna dance?”

Your cheeks instantly flushed red, butterflies swarming in your stomach. A stupid grin slipped on your face while you nodded your head.

He got out of the booth and went over to your side of the table with his hand held out. You took it and he led you out to the dance floor where there were other couples dancing.

He twirled you around before placing his other hand on your wait. You giggled as you snaked your arm around his neck, looking directly in his eyes. The dance floor was really dimly lit. The very little light illuminating his face, making his distinct features even more beautiful.

Trevor’s lips curved into a smile. “I already love spending time with you, I would love to hang out again.”

You giggled, “Is this you asking me out on a second date?”

“Depends,” he chuckled. “Would you say yes to a supposed second date?”

You nodded your head. “Yes,” you answered.

His cheeks dusted a rosy red tiny as he nodded his head. “Then yes,” he said. “I am.”

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras #hockey player x reader #nhl

262 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 5 months

Text

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥

There was never a boring moment during the festive season with your two loves, and it was no different during one of their many visits to your shop. Only, this time, Bucky had a trick up his sleeve.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𖠺 Tattoo Artist!CW!Bucky Barnes x Florist!F!Reader x Tattoo Artist!Nomad!Steve Rogers

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𖠺 1.1k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𖠺 Fluff, crack

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 𖠺 Yes, I can't get enough of these two.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𖠺 @stuckybingo 𝗡𝟮 — "Baby it's cold outside!" (December Adoptable) — Masterlist 𖠺 @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was a slow day.

Customers came and went for hours on end — all pleased as punch at your array of impressive options and choices available to decorate for the season. Reds and greens lined the countertop edges in wreaths of holly, and along the shelves were rows of garlands prettied with poinsettias.

It was also your turn to display an aged tradition, and you did so proudly — a giant Christmas tree, passed down the generations in your family, stood in the corner with spools and ropes of endless lights woven through the branches.

However, not only was it a slow day for you, but your favourite neighbours, too. And, while you were overjoyed to spend the lull of time with them, it came with a price.

Because for the love of everything botany, they refused to settle down and act civilised.

A surprised shout and loud crash came from the back room. “For goodness sakes,” you groaned. The words came out muffled behind your hands; no matter how many times you facepalmed because of one of them, it didn’t make it easier. “Bucky!”

“Sorry, sorry–!” Bucky rushed, and the wince of shame was plainly evident in his tone. You stuck your head just inside the doorway. Thankfully, nothing was toppled or broken — unless you took into account Bucky’s bruised ego. “Damned thing was not there before–”

“That has been there since the very first day I moved in here,” you argued back, pointing at your small fridge, which now sported a dent the size of Bucky’s palm on the door. The poor victim of such vandalisation was your most trusty appliance; the saviour of many days where neither you nor Wanda could venture outside to get lunch. “If you would just sit your butt down and stop wrecking my shop, I could get some work done.”

Steve started to snicker from where you left him behind the counter by the till. Blue eyes danced with mischief and a cunning, keen sense of trouble. You rounded on him and pointed at his chest with your forefinger. “That was not a cue for you to rile your husband up, you–”

“Alright, alright,” Steve soothed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay—we’ll chill and behave for our Petal, right, Buck?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, and the sound of a chair scraping across the floor punctuated his voice.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” you quipped, striding towards the counter to pick up where you left off on the few arrangements.

Beside you, Steve helped with his deft fingers unravelling ribbon and string, or handing you rolls of paper to place around the bouquets — the back room was equally quiet, and if you strained your ears, you could hear the hum of the fridge, as well as the scratching sound of graphite over paper.

You should have known it was not to last.

No more than an hour later, after you worked with Steve through the order of arrangements, did it happen.

The snow outside the window danced as you watched, content to have a short break and stretch your fingers from all the cramped and fiddly movements. It was quiet — not a sound to be heard except the soft songs playing over the speakers, a playlist you made of all the classic Christmas songs.

Not even the scratch of graphite on paper could be heard.

“I really can't stay,” Dorothy Kristen sang, her aged voice like honey to your ears. The overlay of Franklin Sinatra’s line, “Baby, don't hold out,” made you think of Bucky and Steve — such old-fashioned souls, what would they have been like in the forties?

You blinked from your daze and looked around. Steve was focussing on a bundle of holly and amaryllises, his brows drawn close from the intensity of his concentration. “What are you doing?” you asked quietly.

“Jus’– I wanted to sketch some ideas later and I thought—‘cause it’s Christmas—that maybe some holly designs might take off,” he explained, poking and prodding at the leaves until they sat just right. “I know Buck is wantin’ to do the same, or at least, somethi– FUCK!”

Steve’s answer was cut off by a sudden, loud shriek of fright falling from his lips, and he leaped a foot in the air, arching his back as though to get away from something or someone.

That someone, as it happened, was his devious husband.

Bucky fell into hysterics — his face turned red from how hard he was laughing, and you stared at him as he sank to his knees on the floor. The sound of his wheezes for air were as funny as the whole of the situation itself.

“You fuckin’ bastard,” Steve grumbled when he finally came back down from the stratosphere. “Buck, I swear–”

“What did you do,” you demanded of Bucky, staring between the two of them. The fright had not only scared Steve, but you as well, and you hadn’t even seen it coming — there were no sounds as Bucky approached to do whatever he did to Steve.

“The fucker put his cold as fuck hands on my back under my shirt!” Steve ranted. “Here I was thinkin’ he maybe wanted to be sweet on me, but no; fuckin’ no.”

It dawned on you — the lack of graphite scratches over paper, the fridge next to where Bucky was sitting in the back room...

And you lost it.

Your laughter echoed with Bucky’s, and you only managed to save yourself from falling to the floor by grabbing the countertop.

“Oh, very fuckin’ funny—yeah, sure, it’s hilarious,” Steve rumbled, gesturing wildly with his hands, but he wasn’t fooling anybody — the quirk of his lips grew bigger until he was smirking, and his eyes, bright and fond, stared down at Bucky and you with something big swimming in them. “Wait– Were you in on this, Petal?”

“No!” you cried, getting to your feet and hauling Bucky up, too. “I swear—I didn’t know, I just–”

“Your face, oh my fuck–” Bucky tried, but he burst into laughter again.

Steve shook his head and walked around the counter. “I’m goin’, see you two later,” he said, barely holding back his laugh. “Catch your breath and I’ll be back with drinks—if I feel nice.”

The door swung open, the bell rang off of the walls, and Bucky dramatically cried, “But Steve, baby, it’s cold outside!”

It was to no avail — the door swung shut behind Steve after he walked out, chin high and shoulders back, and both you and Bucky dissolved onto the floor once more, keening with laughter.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

132 notes · View notes

bobluvbot · 2 years

Text

bonk!

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x f!reader

summary: in which fate uses a karaoke machine to lead the way for romance because you and Bradley are just too dumb and dense for it.

wc: 9k+ (sorry)

warnings: best friend!rooster, age difference, reader has a lot of insecurities like with body image (briefly mentioned, like one line only!) and self worth issues. implied sex so 18+ only! kinda beta’d. I *tried* to keep the angst at a minimum (i write angst but i am changing ok) but a LOT of pent up frustration. Still VERY fluffy though <3

A/N: Yeahhhhhhh. This started off as a single fluffy scenario with my beloved Rooster, but it kinda took a life of its own. Nonetheless, hope you enjoy!

Reader’s call sign is Indigo!

If there was someone to blame for all this mess, it should be Mav. More often than not, it’s always Maverick’s fault.

He brought up the idea first during one of those after hours of the Hard Deck.

If nothing much has been going on back in base, you and Rooster, sometimes the rest of the Dagger squad would stay behind to help him and Penny clean and get everything straight for the next day. You would do it so often that Penny, who was adamant in shooing you guys away claiming that she could handle it, gave up trying and now checks if you’re cleaning thoroughly.

“Pen,” he’d said in passing, leaning against the mop he was using. “You know what’d make this place better?”

“Are you saying it isn’t already?”

Mav stutters, now realizing how his words could’ve sounded differently than he originally intended, much to you and Rooster’s amusement as you listened in to the conversation. “No- I- you know I didn’t mean it like that, honey.”

“I know,” Penny laughs. “I’m kidding. What were you saying, hun?”

“We should bring in a karaoke machine.”

In retrospect, it was a good idea. Not everyone who’d drunkenly belt out lyrics to a song could hit the right notes without the background music, the jukebox has not been updated to have all the hit music the younger crowd wants to hear, and not everyone could remember the piano chords of their favorite song. And as much as it would please the public demand, the highly acclaimed Rooster Bradshaw and his Great Balls of Fire could not commit to a nightly residency at the Hard Deck due to his demanding day job of being a fighter pilot. Welcoming the machine seemed like a harmless decision, and placing it outside seemed to complete the often deserted outdoor seating area.

And for a while it did what was expected. It brought in an interesting crowd to the bar. The nights you were there, you had witnessed a group of stressed college kids out back, screaming their lungs out through Evanescence’s discography. Another time, a small group were hunkered down by the machine, seemingly on guard as their drunk friend sobbed through Adele’s Someone Like You and Roxette’s It Must’ve Been Love. You had been tempted to hop on in a session when a group of friends decided to have a 2012 night, from Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift to One Direction and Little Mix. It brought out a lot of emotions from the patrons of the bar and soon enough it became a regular fixture at the Hard Deck, that Penny had to whip out a reservation list just for the outside seating to keep people from fighting over the time limit each group has before the next can have their go. It somehow made the place even more chaotic, especially during weekends, but added more income so no one was complaining.

It became a problem when you and the rest of the Top Gun instructors gave in to the hype and had a go for yourselves. It started out as innocent, drunk fun. You and the instructors around your age were sick of hearing the oldies and their outdated playlists from the jukebox (Don’t let Rooster know about this) as they played pool, so you went outside and dared each other to grab the mic and pick a song that you used to cry to during your first heartbreak with the promise of a crumpled 20$ bill someone dug out from their pocket. From Lips to an Angel to The Reason to Perfect, your friends each gave their all for the sad bill. Determined to stand out, you decide on Taylor’s Teardrops on My Guitar as your magnum opus for the night. It was a perfect fit, and your friends groaned woefully as the nostalgia hits them. In your drunken haze, you wondered for a bit why you’ve avoided listening or singing this song for so long, but as the song continued, you figure out why.

—

It was 2007, the summer before college, and you had just gotten your dream iPod in pink as a gift from your grandparents for getting into Columbia. You already had a list of all the albums and singles you were going to download on the back of your physics notebook, and the first off that list would be Taylor Swift’s albums. It was nice that you were the same age, you could relate to each song if you tried hard enough, but your lack of non-fictional boyfriends and romantic conquests were a huge setback back then. You were halfway through your second listen when your grandmother asks you if you can bring the casserole she just finished making next door, and because you didn’t have the heart to say no after getting your iPod, you agreed and made your way to your neighbor’s house.

They seemed to have someone over, judging by the number of bikes strewn across the lawn and an inconspicuous blue Bronco parked in their driveway that you didn’t recognize. More reasons to drop off and go, you’d thought, so you rang their doorbell while you thought of a good excuse to speed off. No one responded despite the commotion you could barely make out from the inside, so with an exasperated sigh, you reached out to press the bell again.

You remembered freezing, with your outstretched hand retreating back to the handles of the pan as you made contact with the one who answered the door. He didn’t have blue eyes like Drew did from the music video, nor was he called Drew for that matter, but god, you found yourself breathless and in constant awe like Taylor when you realized who it was.

He broke out in a grin, greeting you with that wretched nickname he and his cousins gave you when you were young. Bradley Bradshaw— the boy that taught you how to hang upside down from the monkey bars at the park because your friends (his cousins) thought you were too heavy to do so, the boy you got so attached to every summer when he came to stay next door because he included you whenever the cousins played Pokemon cards or Super Mario on the playstation and would let you off easy and debt free whenever you played monopoly, the boy who shared your love for aviation and would drag you along with their family trips to the flight museums nearby, and it would take years more for you to realize but he was also the same boy you looked for in the sea of faces at school, in hopes to find someone remotely close to who he was, which just left you terribly single— was back, visiting from college. He was still breathtakingly beautiful, and the crazy beating of your heart as he dragged you by the hand inside to see the family should be the telltale sign that you were going to be ruined before you escaped to college.

Catching up after dinner, you learned there was a girl. There was always someone— he was interested in, confessing their feelings, seeing, crying over him. You should’ve gotten used to it at this point. Bradley was a light that everyone was just naturally drawn to. Maybe you could chalk up the blame to the angsty fanfic you’ve read earlier that day or to the sad Taylor Swift songs you decided to dwell on before you brought the casserole, but goddamn it stung. It hurt when it shouldn’t be hurting in the first place. Bradley was one of your childhood friends, the kind big brother you always wanted to have. You’re sure that if he was around more, he would’ve helped you scare away your bullies or have even posed as your date to prom so you wouldn’t feel as left out as you did. It was in between your third or fourth bite of the cherry pie Bradley’s aunt had given you for dessert when you realized you saw him in a different light now, and it didn’t take long for you to see that he didn’t.

Later that night, you found yourself clutching your teal guitar, Love Story’s chords long forgotten, blasting Teardrops on My Guitar on your alarm clock speaker at 10pm, with only the moonlight and your pink wallpaper witnessing your tear-stricken face.

–

“Oh my god, is Indigo crying?”

“She is, fuck. Hurry, we gotta record this!”

Before your friend could point the camera flash on your face, you kick his shin before whipping out your middle finger, turning away from them to hastily wipe the tears that betrayed you on your sweater.

Despite the waterworks, you were determined to finish the last line of the song perfectly, because this is the last time you’ll be singing this for the next thirty or so years.

“Drew looks at me,” you start, and the doors swing open to welcome an amused Rooster and the rest of the gang into your group outside.

Locking eyes with you, you sing, “I fake a smile so he won’t see,” smiling.

Yeah, at least the sting lessened to a quiet twinge now.

—

The oldies have infiltrated the karaoke machine once they saw how much fun you guys had that night. Soon after, they’d come in early and just play one round of pool before Fanboy drags you and Payback outside quickly, reserving the machine before the bar’s crowd comes in. People would think this is unfair because you were allowed in earlier and would have the advantage to hoard the machine all to yourselves, but they didn’t want to risk disrespecting you guys and buying a round for the entire bar so they kept quiet.

It wasn’t long till Rooster had migrated his trademark song from the piano to the karaoke machine, deeming that it was hard to remember the chords when he’s had a few drinks. You’d still have your turn singing throwback songs with the gang, but once Bradley gets a hold of the mic, you might as well head home because it’s either he sings five songs in a row or a five minute song (there’s no in between). It gets especially worse when he’s got alcohol in his system, the mans will hog the mic for himself. You once got into a fight because of it and it only ended when Hangman snatched it from both of your hands and used it for his own song, much to both your chagrin.

—

“No, absolutely not.”

Those were the last words you register before your phone gets snatched from your hands. Mere seconds ago, you were on Amazon, comparing prices of those bluetooth karaoke microphones that had built in speakers and had just added the highest rated one on your cart.

You’ve grown attached to the bar’s karaoke machine and would look forward to it after a long day dealing with your new array of Top Gun students. You found that belting out Fall Out Boy relieves more tension from your back than your regular chiropractic appointments so you’re determined to still have your karaoke session one way or another. But apparently, your best friend had other ideas.

“I’m relaxing, Bradshaw, but I won’t hesitate to kick your nuts if you don’t give back my phone.”

“Let me just—,” he mutters, tapping on your device that seems suspiciously like removing something from your cart.

You immediately spring into action and he raises his arms above your reach in response. Damn him and his height. You resort to climbing up his limbs, and when that didn’t work, you gave a mean pinch his side. This seemed to do the trick as he hissed, folding over in pain, and you take the opportunity to grab your phone back.

God, you were glad you were on your break and none of your superiors or students were around to witness two of their instructors tackle each other outside one of the hangars.

“I can’t believe you’d betray Penny like this, Y/N.”

“What the hell are you on about?” You ask, shooting him a mean glare while wiping his fingerprints off from your screen on your suit.

“You getting your own karaoke mic means you won’t go to the Hard Deck anymore to sing and that’s just incredibly selfish and I can’t allow that.”

“Well,” you start, “I wouldn’t be getting one in the first place if someone here plays fair and doesn’t hog the mic for himself.”

He scoffs. “You talking to yourself?”

You gasp, appalled. “How dare you. That was one time! It’s not my fault All Too Well’s ten minutes!”

“Uh huh,” he gloats. “I’m just gonna pretend we didn’t listen to the album together and I totally didn’t see that there was a five minute version you could’ve sung.”

This prompts a teasing smile from your lips. “Oh, so you were paying attention to the album. I thought you hated it because it was cheesy teen music.” You say, using air quotes while mocking how he had complained when you took out his Temptations cd from the Bronco’s stereo and replaced it with your new Red album the moment you got it from the mail.

“I had little to no choice on the matter, Y/N. You chose the longest car ride to play that album on repeat,” he responds exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

You smirk at the memory. You both were off that day and you persuaded Bradley to drive from base to downtown Los Angeles for this dumpling restaurant you saw on Yelp that offered an AYCE for their opening day. It wasn’t easy to get him off his couch during his offs (understandable), but you bribed him with the promise of a full gas tank and a car wash. He did sulk for a bit, but you knew he couldn’t resist free things (or you whining for that matter).

“Don’t distract me from the real issue here. Just don’t get that mic, Y/N. Fighting over that karaoke machine at the Hard Deck makes it more fun.” He says a matter-of-factly.

“Fun because no one has the balls to snatch the mic from you.” You grumble, checking your watch and seeing your break time was almost up. “Whatever,” you say in passing while wiping off some sandwich crumbs that stuck to your suit. “I’ll just order it when you’re not around,” you sneer, sticking your tongue out at Rooster as you start to walk back to the main building where your classes are held.

He catches up to you quick, a smirk on his lips. Does this man ever run out of comebacks? “You’re forgetting the fact that that’s my Prime account you’re using.”

You halt, appalled, your eyes following his figure as he ignores you and continues his walk. “I pay for my half, you ass! That’s our account!”

He doesn’t say anything as he looks back at you, only a knowing expression on his face. You know there’s no escape from this. Because when you’d try to order it later, he’ll just cancel it on his end when he gets notified of the purchase. Frustrating. “I hate you.”

He hums in response, and you try to suppress the tingly feeling you’d always get when he does that. “Still up for dinner later?” He asks when you reach his side.

You feel the weight of disappointment and dismay from your ancestors as you mutter a yes to the man before you separate ways. Doesn’t matter how much Bradley Bradshaw riles you up every chance he gets, you’d always say yes to him.

—

“Just let me take you to lunch, please.”

You had tried your best to keep a respectable distance from your superior but it got increasingly hard as Rooster grabbed your arm and situated himself in front of you, his bulky figure blocking your way. Getting caught was one thing, but having all the feelings for this man you’ve kept in a box stowed away in some hidden part of your head unravel because of how close he is to you right now was another issue you’re not ready to face.

In fact, mere days ago, the thought of him hadn’t even crossed your mind. Renewed determination and excitement coursed through your veins as you started your advanced flight training. You worked your ass off to get to this point, and it’s only a matter of time before you get your wings. That alone kept your head above water. You might’ve taken the long route with your engineering degree, but it surely did wonders as you sped through most of your earlier classes in training. Soon enough you’ll be doing what you’ve always dreamed of as a kid. And nothing will stand in your way to fly.

Well, you didn’t account for having Bradley Bradshaw temporarily stand-in as your flight instructor for a week, so that’s oversight on your part.

You had looked around, relieved to see the hallway was deserted, before you hissed, “You’re too close! If anyone sees us, they’re gonna assume the worst and I’ll be dead.”

“Let them.” You glared at him and he took it back immediately. “Okay, fine.” He had said, taking one step away from you. “Lunch, with me,” he repeated again, as if you hadn’t been listening to him ask for the past few minutes. “I’ll let you order anything you want off the menu. On me.”

He knew your affinity for free stuff, and you never wanted to pluck that knowledge off his head than right now. You sighed, resigning. “You’ll leave me alone after?”

“I–,” he’d stuttered, caught off guard. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t do me like this. I haven’t seen you in so long. We gotta catch up.”

“It’s just,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “It’s different now, Bradley. You’re my instructor and I’m one of your students—”

“Only for a week,” he interrupted, and you gave him a scowl. “Sorry, go on.”

Sighing, you continued, “Don’t get me wrong, I wanna go with you. It’s just that people might get the wrong idea when they see us outside and I’m this close to graduating and I don’t want anything to hold me back, you know?��

He noticed your anxious expression and he’d ran a hand through the length of your arm to comfort you. “I understand, you know I do.” Despite the thick material of your flight suit, his touch left a trail of goosebumps on your skin. The effect he had on you is daunting.

He paused to think for a second. “Hey, what about this. Let’s change out of these uniforms and then I’ll wait for you outside base. We’ll blend in perfectly. That sound good?”

A small smile had creeped into your face as you nodded gingerly. God, you missed him so much.

“I got you, don’t worry. Plus I already told some of my colleagues that you’re a family friend so they leave us alone.”

He probably meant that in a sweet, genuine way, but it still stung. You went through so many changes during the years you spent apart. You worked hard on your appearance and became more confident in the way you deliver yourself, something that you weren’t before. You’d never admit it but in some small part of you, you wished Bradley saw you like the girls he’d go crazy over.

You mustered up a tight smile for him. “Okay, See you in a bit.” You say before walking away.

A single thought remains in your mind: Still not good enough.

—

Lunch went surprisingly easy despite of what had happened earlier.

You’ve imagined this moment with Rooster so many times while you were away for college. Like what would your first meeting as adults would be, if you would ever cross paths again.

Would you have a meet-cute like the movies where you bump into each other unexpectedly, or where you’d trip and he’d catch you, literally sweeping you off your feet? And would it be a new beginning for both of you, finally seeing each other after years of being apart?

Would love just come naturally, fate tired from seeing you both struggle to see it?

Even if this isn’t as grandiose as what you’ve dreamed of, you and Bradley munching through breakfast for lunch and early dinner at Denny’s while catching up seemed like how things should be.

Just his mere presence made everything better (for your heart) and worse (also, for your heart) at the same time.

You didn’t tell him that running thousands of miles away from home didn’t do shit because all you’ve ever searched for was him and anything remotely similar to how he’s made you feel, nor how you’d always check next door first to see if that blue Bronco’s parked in the driveway again when you’d come home for breaks. Instead you told him good (boring) things about college, because those were the safest. It didn’t warrant any additional questions, questions that could prod at your already flaking defense and one wrong step could have him see how much you’re pathetically struggling to keep it up.

He in turn, tells you stories from college to his current naval career, and you listen. Or you try to, as you hyperfocus on how he looked; how this clean cut hair made him look more serious, far from the mop of curls he sported throughout high school and college to how his lips still looked plump and pretty, and you get reminded of how much you liked to sneak looks at them whenever he speaks from that one summer.

This is probably the closest you could be with him so you take advantage of it, marking the features you loved from the old Bradley that remained the same from the new ones you’d get to know from afar.

You manage to catch the important things: how attached he’s been to the California sun ever since he got stationed there and how he’ll take you there to visit once you graduate because he’s that sure that you’ll love it as much as he does, how he’s thinking of growing a mustache, and that he didn’t even consider taking up this job but he’s now happy he did.

He made a point that you know how proud he is of you for following your childhood dream like he did. He swore he’ll take care of you, making up for all those years he hadn’t been around.

You’d hate it later that night because you knew better, but after years of just bottling up all the feelings you felt for him, maybe today was the day you could indulge in the affection he gives you.

Even if it’s ill placed. After all, it would just be today.

Until you realized he meant what he said.

It got hard to remain level-headed in the mist, especially when he became the first person you’d want to call just to tell him about both exciting and frustrating things you got to do from training because you knew he’d understand perfectly, or when he had shown up late to your graduation because he drove for an hour to get you a big bouquet of peonies (your favorite), or when he took you to San Diego and introduced you to his friends who all welcomed you with fondness, finally giving you a sense of belonging and community in this stage of your life.

It was arduous to keep up when even after getting assigned to bases across the country, you’d randomly find packages of random food items that you’ve been craving mentioned in passing through facetimes and texts, or when he would have time to visit, you’d suddenly find that broken bedroom doorknob you’ve been ignoring fixed, the change oil light from your car finally turned off, and you’d always get dropped off in front of Target’s entrance while he finds parking in a busy lot.

Punishing to bear in mind when it’s been custom to have each other pick one up after deployment, when he trusts you enough to park his beloved Bronco at your place and even take it out for eventual maintenance checks, and when you’d lean on his chest when it gets too crowded and his arms find its way around you, tucking you in, and at once there’d be comfort in chaos.

This still isn’t what you hoped to be with Bradley; but you were given something greater, far more than that silly little crush you’ve ever daydreamed about, and suddenly, something you’ve been certain of ever since that day you handed him that casserole wasn’t as clear now. Risking all this for a confession of years of love and adoration didn’t seem worth it anymore.

Perhaps, this was okay. This was how things should be.

—

So you didn’t quite understand why you were fuming, and all that filled your head was hurt, hurt, hurt.

The scene unfolded like a usual Saturday night for everyone: Tipsy Rooster throws his hand across your shoulders, making you sway with him to the opening rhythm of Great Balls of Fire (his third song in a row), leaning close to your ear where his mustache tickles your skin and unsheaths a million goosebumps at its wake, to say that he promises, like pretty promises, to let you sing the last verse and chorus with him as a peace offering for hogging the mic yet again. And you believe him.

Not because the few drinks you’ve had impeded your better judgement, but because it wasn’t like Rooster to break promises. Neither a wash of alcohol nor adrenaline could waver that man’s conviction to a promise.

You relent, plopping yourself beside a warm Phoenix, who was busy playing an intense card game with Bob, Fanboy, and some other pilots. Through the windows, you could spot Hangman’s animated head bob along as he charms two women by the pool table while Coyote and Fritz played beside him. It had been a busy week for all of you back at base, so everyone was just out and about, eager to be distracted from the events at work.

You had felt yourself get dizzy after taking two swigs off your nth beer, so you closed your eyes for a bit, leaning your weight on Nat’s back as you listen to your best friend croon his heart out and have his karaoke moment. Music had always calmed Rooster down, and as much as you’d love to have your overdue turn to sing, you’re always willing to wait for him (even if you’ll never admit it out loud).

So when he finished the second chorus and the piano solo kicked in, you had willed yourself to come back to consciousness. It had been a while since you sang this song, and you’ve never shared a duet with Rooster before because both of you would just be too busy fighting for the mic. You might not have the best singing voice when tipsy but you’re singing with your best friend, and it was okay to be embarrassing with him.

But you never hear your name called, and you open your eyes just in time to witness everything. The door leading to the outdoor area opened and out it spat a woman you remember seeing in passing inside when you went to get a refill from Penny. She was beautiful and of course, she had eyes only for Rooster. Considering the recognition in her face as she saw him plus the sure steps he made towards her, you knew they have had history.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but she was laughing, obviously sending the fuck me gaze in Rooster’s way, and you could tell he was chuckling too by the careen in his shoulders.

The piano solo gave you an insulting background music as you watched tensed up. Knowing this song by heart, you count the seconds and notes while staring at the two of them.

‘Anytime now, Roos will bid her goodbye and he would call me next to him and we would finish this song together,’ you thought, assuring yourself. ‘He promised.’

Except when the solo ended, he pulled her close, put his arm on her shoulders, handed her the mic, and they sang together.

He didn’t even bother looking back at you. It was as if you weren’t there in the first place.

You should really lay off on alcohol. Something about it makes you act childish and irrational.

Because here you were, a grown woman, an Ivy League and Top Gun graduate, trusted to fly big expensive planes through challenging and stressful situations, yet all you wanted to do was to throw things and wail right then and there because you didn’t know how to quiet the pounding in your chest or to silence the reverberating words in your head: hurt, and in a smaller voice, that should’ve been me.

Despite the open around you, it felt like the air was getting punched out from your lungs, and you just had to get out. Standing abruptly, you forgot the drink perched on your lap and it spills, the cold liquid soaking through denim. Wanting to slip away unnoticed was far gone because your clumsiness just managed to attract unwanted attention from Nat and the rest.

A chorus of startled and worried questions erupt at your wake, but they get swept up in the night breeze as you squeeze past them, muttering something sounding like an apology while your feet takes you down the patio steps and into the sand of the beach, your boots sinking on the sand with your laden steps.

It seemed like the faster you run, your feet get heavier and harder to drag off the sand, making your dash to the parking lot achingly slower. The world was mute, the once noisy bar with all its music and chatter, even the relentless crashing of waves to shore were absent. The biting November wind clings to your frame and to the wet trails left on your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying, but you just hope they didn’t spill when you were squeezing past your friends. They didn’t have to see how pathetic you really were behind your collected front.

But here now, by the unlit back wall of the bar where no wandering eyes could see you, maybe you could let some tears flow to keep the dam from overflowing again. You have always prided yourself in being able to keeping your emotions in check. With a job like yours you couldn’t guarantee a day or two where nothing unexpected occurs, no one gets hurt, or no one treats you unfairly, so you had to learn how to let your work be work, and not let it bleed through your personal life. Same as with Bradley. Your longing for him was met in this friendship and had let yourself get used to that. You knew to turn away when he spots someone that sparks his interest in the bar, you learned to tune him out when he raved about this person he met, you had a set of answers to give when he asks you advice on what to wear for a date or what gift to give.

Because your needs were being met. You have a best friend, a confidant, a partner in him. You have made a joke of yourself, your feelings to keep the man you loved close. You could sleep at night before. You were okay before. You could pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow like before, so why doesn’t it work now?

You cry for the wasted years of devoting yourself to someone who wouldn’t even bat an eye for you when occupied with others that haven’t, or wouldn’t even attempt to do things you’ve done for Bradley, to make him happy, to keep that fucking smile on his face, to keep that light in his eyes burning bright.

You cry for all the times you have rejected or ignored people that expressed interest in getting to know you because you were too enamored and convinced that no one could make up for what he was in your life. And you’re not wrong. No one could make you insecure like he does whenever you act or dress like what he says he seeks for in a partner but he’d still look the other way. No one could be as dense as he is. No one could make you cry about a fifteen year old song like he does and make you feel like your teen self isn’t as different as you were now.

You wonder if you could’ve just given the guy who pursued you for a month with clear intentions and a kind heart a chance, a date, a night to prove himself to you, would you still be crying uncontrollably with your hand muffling your sobs, the rough wood patchwork on a dark corner of the bar the only thing keeping you from curling up into a ball as the years of regret catch up to you on a Saturday night?

Almost the entirety of your life devoted should be enough. It was time to quit Bradley Bradshaw.

Only it had to wait until sunrise to start. Because upon reaching the parking lot, you were smacked with a terrible realization: you rode with him to the Hard Deck.

You had sobered up from tears a little bit, but you feel another sob threatening to bubble out of your throat. Why were you so stupid?

You want to kick the Bronco’s wheels out of frustration but the baby didn’t do anything to deserve it (also because you had paid to get the car washed earlier that day). It was just an innocent bystander to your stupidity and unconditional love to its owner, so you drop down and hug your knees tight, shielding your face from the lights of the lot.

Maybe if you could sleep like this, you’d wake up back to this morning and this will all be a simple nightmare. And the exhaustion from the week and your sadness and anger were all too convincing for you to try it out, if it weren’t for the voice calling out your name in worry, the footsteps quickly coming towards you, and the strong arms that wrap around your frame, willing you to speak.

“Y/N, hey,” Bradley says softly, hand rubbing circles on your back. “Let’s get you somewhere warm, m’kay?”

Managing to muster up some strength, you push him away, or at least a sorry attempt to. Your palms were no match against his hard chest, and they just slide down hopelessly to your sides.

Grumbling, you say, “I can do it myself.”

“Okay, careful.” His voice remained soft, devoid of any annoyance or exasperation. This annoys you more. You wanted nothing but to hate this man to the guts but he makes it hard by being like this, like he actually cares.

You refuse to meet his eyes but you know they’re on you, watching as you hoist yourself up using the concrete as leverage. He had his hand outstretched to catch you if you stumble, and for a second you were tempted to grab it, but you resort to the side of the Bronco to keep your balance and the hand retreats.

Training your eyes to the ground, to anywhere except his stupid face, you explain, “I just need my bag,” gesturing at the lump on the passenger seat of the car. “So I can just catch an uber home.”

“No, I’ll drive you home,” he quickly refuses, fishing out his car keys from his back pocket. You wanted to lunge and steal it from him, but that’s just going to cause unnecessary contact with him. It’s best to avoid touching anything of him because you don’t know what it’ll do to the wall you’ve hastily built against him.

“Don’t bother. Last thing I want is to ruin your chances in getting laid tonight.”

Your words earn a quick eyebrow furrow from him and a miniscule wave of satisfaction runs through you. And you figure it out: if you can’t be happy tonight, no one near you can be.

A desire to cause a cascade of anger through him continues to consume you but he stops there. Face still laced with concern, he shakes his head and sighs, “Alright, let’s get you home.”

You watch him as he opens your door and waits for you to climb in while you remained standing where you were.

“Y/N.” He says it with a tonality he almost exclusively uses at work, when he has to put his instructor hat on or when he has someone to reprimand. “Please don’t make me carry you inside.”

You want to say he wouldn’t dare, but you knew he could easily do it. And even if you scream bloody murder, people knew you two always bicker like this so no one would think anything’s amiss. So you glare at him before noisily climbing up his car and shutting the door on his face. Whether it may be through words or actions, you were adamant to express your frustration to him, to this car, to this entire situation.

You could tell by the slump in his shoulders as he walked to the driver’s seat that he was bothered by how you’re acting but you can’t bring yourself to care. You just want to leave him troubled as you are, with his heart wrung tightly he couldn’t breathe.

The next words come out after a while of driving quietly through dark, empty streets. He was letting you calm down but your mind was far from it. You occupy yourself by counting the streets left to cross before you reach your apartment from the passenger window, wanting nothing but to get the fuck out of there and sleep.

“Y/N,” he starts. “What happened back there? Did anyone cause you trouble? Tell me what they look like so I can tell Penny and Mav about it tomorrow.”

You were thankful you had your hands tucked in, arms crossed over your chest, because you were certain if it had been anywhere else he could easily reach over and touch, he would.

When he was answered with silence, he tries again. “Were you hurt, Y/N? What did they do to you? Please tell me.”

“God, shut up. You’re making my head throb even more.”

“I will when you answer me. Even Phoenix doesn’t know what’s up with you back there. She says you just got up and left.”

“Maybe it’s just that.”

“I know you enough to know that it isn’t. Something happened that made you this upset.”

“Why do you care so much, Rooster? Dealing with you is suffocating.”

His mouth gapes incredulously, and if the car was stopped in a light he would’ve stared at you in disbelief. “Wha–,” he stutters. “Y/N, come on. Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, Rooster? Like a bitch?” You snort. “I already told you earlier I just needed my fucking bag. I didn’t ask for you to come drive me home. I’m only here because you insisted.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I–,” “I don’t want you to go home alone and upset. I hate seeing my best friend like this and not being able to help. I’m sorry.” There it was again, best friend. An affectionate word, even an achievement to have for others, but you never had a word that triggers so much hate in you as much as that. It sends your temper bubbling higher.

You scoff.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. If you’re mad at me, at whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not letting you buy the bluetooth microphone. I’ll get you a new one personally as soon as we get home.”

Now you really laugh, insulted, like salt being thrown haphazardly on your fresh scars. You should’ve cut this man off ages ago. “All this, and the best you can think of is that I’m fucking upset over a microphone. God, I’m really seeing everything tonight, am I?”

“Then help me out, Y/N! I’ve been sitting here going through tonight and yesterday night and the last week, wracking my brain for anything I’ve said or did that made you this upset with me.” He breathes, trying his best to calm himself down.

In a leveled tone he begs, “Please tell me what I can do to make this right.”

“You actually saying that unprovoked just proves everything I’ve realized tonight about you, Roos. I just feel stupid now trying to convince myself that you weren’t dense and selfish when it’s really all about you, isn’t it? You only get bothered when someone lashes out on you. Then you self reflect. You only care about your feelings, about your happiness. You don’t give a shit about anyone else!”

“What? You know that’s not true, Y/N.”

“Knowing you forever says the opposite, Rooster. You have the world in your hands and God forbid anyone upset you and ruin your night—”

“God, Y/N, I’m sorry that I can’t read what’s on your mind! If you can just tell me what the hell I did that got you this pissed so I can apologize for it, instead of saying cryptic and hurtful shit that I know you don’t mean then we’d have a better conversation, don’t you think?”

“Wow, so now you’re telling me the things I mean and don’t mean. You sure you can’t read my mind, Roos?”

“I know you’d never say those things to me because you know who I am. You think I’m shallow? Okay. That I’m narcissistic, fine. But saying I don’t give a shit about anyone, about you,” he pauses. “You know better than that, Y/N. I know you do after everything we’ve gone through—”

“So now you want to compare the shit we did, shit we sacrificed for each other during this fucking friendship? Alright, I’m down. Go ahead.”

“What— no! Fuck, Y/N, please. I know what you’re doing, you’re trying to hurt me, making me feel the way I made you feel.” He pleads, his voice getting hoarse from all the screaming. “Just please tell me what you want me to do to fix this. Please.”

“I want nothing to do with you.” It came off so easy from your tongue it’s hard to believe you held this back for years.

It surprised him too, so much so that he gave up trying to make you admit you didn’t mean it. The certainty in your voice scares him enough to believe as soon as he heard it. “Why?”

“Because I fucking hate you.”

You see shock, anger, and sadness and all sorts of emotions you can’t catch because of the tears blocking your vision flit on his face quickly. With a morose expression, he shakes his head in disbelief, blinking some tears away, willing them not to fall. You knew he’s trying to think you didn’t mean it.

But now with tears falling freely, you know you finally do. “Because you make me become someone that I’m not and I hate it. You make me jealous, you make me spiteful of the girls that come near you, you make me hateful and bitter that I can’t make you smile like you do with people who barely know you. And I know that’s so petty and immature and I know better than that but you just make me stupid and irrational.

You make me dependent on you for things that I can do myself. I can drive myself home I can do my own groceries I can take care of myself when I’m sick but now that you’ve weaseled yourself in my life these things aren’t the same without you. I hate that I got attached to this fucking car that eats up gas so fucking quick. I hate seeing your stupid Hawaiian shirts you always forget to iron. I hate your stupid fucking mustache and how long you take to fucking shape them.

I fucking hate how I get so weak when I’m with you that I get all the feelings I know I should’ve given up on ages ago and I know, I have fucking known for years that you’ll never feel the same way I do and yet here I am. I hate that I can’t quit you after all these years I’m still here and I love you and I can’t do anything about it.”

You also hate that unlike the confession scenes in movies have the heroine crying but still look beautiful, you had tears and snot dripping on your shirt and jeans and you only found out when you tasted some while sputtering and spewing out all the words that haunted you for years on Bradley.

Finally everything was on the table. You’ve crossed the point of no return and instead of feeling relief you felt spent, exhausted, and widely aware that you don’t have strength to face your best friend anymore. In fact, you’re sure you just lost yours.

Tears have blinded you to what you were facing and you could barely breathe from the snot build up in your nostrils, so you pull up your sweater to wipe and sneeze into until—

BONK!

A searing pain erupts from a specific point on your forehead and you clutch it while curses flow from your mouth, tearing up again because it fucking hurt and it made your headache ten times worse. Bradley must’ve hit you with something and you’re mad but you also understand why he’d do that.

But as you blink some tears away you see him cradling his forehead as well, groaning and cursing in pain, mirroring your actions.

What the hell just happened? Did he just headbutt you?

Turns out you’ve thought that one out loud. “I didn’t, you dumbass. You keep on fucking moving.”

He grabs your face, encasing it with his big hands forcing you to look at him. You stare at each other for a second and after everything you’ve exchanged in this car you want it to last until it couldn’t, because you knew this would be the last time you’d have Bradley this close. Even if his beautiful features are marred with pain and frustration and other emotions you couldn’t name.

He groans, pulls on the sleeve of his thermal shirt and wipes the snot and tears off of your nose and mouth haphazardly.

And then he leans in for a kiss.

There was a blink, a split second of silence, before the chorus of voices erupt in your head: your five year old self disgusted that you’re kissing that snotty Bradshaw kid; a ten year old you guilty and scared that Ms. Carole will get mad at you for not asking permission to kiss her son; thirteen, appalled that you were basically making out with someone that’s clearly not Emmett Richmond from Legally Blonde; seventeen year old you screeching, screaming ‘FUCKING FINALLY!’ and immediately searching for a Taylor Swift song to accompany this moment; and a twenty six year old Y/N more confused than ever that you’d still end up here, living your adolescent fantasy instead of finding someone new and better.

Yet amidst the chaos, you find yourself mute. In the moment, yes, you were hopeless against Bradley’s lips, yours following his lead like a teenager on her first kiss because you haven’t had (or probably refused to get) enough practice to do this thing properly, but you found it graceless, like trying to walk in shoes that were one size too big— not quite right. Like you couldn’t give yourself fully to the moment because something hefty still lingers in the air, left unsaid.

So against your past selves’ wishes, you pull away. Looking down, you refuse to look at him, afraid that his eyes will confirm your worst fear. “Please,” you whisper nervously. “Please don’t kiss me because you feel bad. That’s… that’s mean.”

An exasperated sigh escapes Bradley and two fingers tilt your chin to face him properly. There wasn’t any trace of guilt nor contempt on his flushed face. Just pure exasperation for all the things you’ve done tonight but you can’t let yourself be so sure. No falling for anything without full certainty and a vocal confirmation. You had enough of your fair share.

“God, you’re the smartest girl I know but you’re also incredibly dumb. I kissed you to shut you up and let you know I do feel the same thing because I know if I just say it you won’t listen because you’re too fucking stubborn.” He huffs.

Locking eyes with you, he quirks an eyebrow waiting if you have another protest to make. If you weren’t in this situation, you would’ve laughed at the ridiculous irked face he’s making. Maybe he is telling the truth, you tell yourself. Maybe this time, it’ll be right.

Deeming your silence and waiting, parted lips as an answer, he says sulkily, “Now, can I continue this without getting interrupted?”

You hit his arm as you nod. Your lips meet again, the kiss deeper this time around judging by the arm that now encircles you, attempting to pull you closer to him but failing miserably.

“Fuck this shit,” he grumbles.

“Language, Bradshaw, damn,” you chuckle, watching him slide off his seatbelt, putting the car on park and the hand brake on.

“My right foot fell asleep because I was stepping on the breaks this whole damn time.”

Now you really laugh. What a giant dork.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off as he reaches towards you and slides off your seatbelt. “Wonder whose great idea it is to confess feelings in the middle of a goddamn street.”

You didn’t get the chance to reply in between hysterics because he swiftly carries and maneuvers you around so you were straddling him, surprised at how comfortable it was. You never had him this close before and you sober up quickly into a mesmerized silence, just admiring how beautiful he looked this close, how the streetlight outside lands square on his face and you could see the speckles of green in his brown eyes, and how all of this is yours. God, saying that feels so foreign but right.

He lets your soft fingertips graze the contours of his face, from his lips to the tip of his nose before one finally settling lost in his curls and the other on the nape of his neck. You don’t know this yet, but he also had dreamed of this moment longer than he could remember.

Suddenly you get hit with a familiar wave of the longing in your pit for Bradley, only this time you can act up on it. So you did, crashing your lips onto his.

Like the other things you’ve imagined with him, this was certainly never in consideration. You’d imagine a spacious park, branches of a leaning tree lined with soft fairy lights that made both of you glow as he leans in, lips melding into yours perfectly as soft music crooned in the background. Instead you get a steamy Bronco two streets away from your apartment, and probably more odd locations in your place. Not that you’re complaining though.

—

You were going through some papers that needed to be graded on one of your students’ desk after class when you feel the presence of three amused pilots approaching you.

Even if you didn’t look up, you know by their steps that it was Fanboy, who took a seat in front of you, Phoenix, that sat next to you, and a snickering Hangman who opted to stand beside you, looming over your hunched figure.

“What did my kids do now?” You say, not bothering to greet them. Even if the students you had also took classes with some of them, you were adamant in calling them your children because despite of how much they annoyed you sometimes, you’ve gotten close to this batch and they to you. Some of the instructors would even ask you to sit them down and discuss about the mistakes they made in their other classes so you could work with them to do it better. Not without them holding you responsible when they act out (sometimes. It can’t be helped) of course.

“Oh nothing. They’re great, actually,” Nat replies. “We just wanted to see the beautiful face of our great Indigo today.”

Mickey pipes up. “Yeah, we didn’t even get to see you at lunch today.”

Moving onto the next paper, you say, “I was busy. But didn’t you guys visit my class earlier?” It was just Hangman and Fanboy casually walking across the back of the room, claiming to grab something very important (a random HDMI cord). They scooted out fast but not before getting a good look at your confused face. You thought you had something stuck to your teeth but you didn’t have your phone with you so you just tried to clean them with your tongue.

“Yeah. We did.”

“Uhuh. Need another cord?”

“No, we just need you to look at us, darlin’.”

You almost didn’t, half expecting Hangman to have a plate of whipped cream ready to smack your face, but food isn’t allowed beyond the cafeteria so you reluctantly raise your head to meet the expectant and scandalous looks on your friends’ faces.

No face smashing occurred, only a mesh of hollers, high fives, and nods of agreement.

“What am I missing?”

“Oh, nothing. We’re just happy you had fun last night with Rooster.”

“Took you guys too fucking long,” Mickey drawls, clutching his head in exaggeration. Phoenix joins him in agreement, grinning at you proudly like she’s your mom and you just got a medal for being a top student in class.

A sweat starts to break out of your forehead. You and Bradley didn’t tell anyone that you were together last night, hell, you didn’t even had time to discuss what you guys were now. The last thing you want is for people to make assumptions and you can’t tell them otherwise because you don’t know where you stand. ‘We just fucked all night in every hard surface you could think of, no big deal.’ won’t be an acceptable answer, especially when this reaches Maverick and Penny.

“Wha—,” you stutter. “I wasn’t with Rooster last night! Stop making up bullshit, Bagman.”

Jake just gives you that god awful smirk and nod combo that tells you he knows you’re full of shit right now.

You turn to Nat, desperate for your friend to back you up. ‘’Nat, I wasn’t with him last night I swear.”

She makes her way to your lap and hugs you sideways. You know you could always count on your wingman. “Oh, my sweet Indy,” she coos. “No need to explain. The same bruise you and Rooster have on your foreheads tell us everything we wanna know.”

#rooster #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #rooster imagine #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #miles teller #it’s maverick’s fault

2K notes · View notes

superblysubpar · 1 year

Note

12 days of Xmas request:Friends to lovers.

Snowed in alone w Eddie at either his place or yours. Power goes out, no heat. Spend a couple of hours huddled together like eskimos but come nightfall, it’s unbearably cold. And, well, huddling becomes cuddling, cuddling becomes….“how do you think we’re gonna get warm if you’re trying to take my pants off!”

There is still one spot left in my twelve days event if you’d like to request something - no need for it to be Christmas themed, winter activities/stories are more than welcomed too. The playlist so far is linked at the end of the story. Let me know what you think, any interaction is so appreciated and loved!

Summary: see above ask for summary, I couldn’t help myself and I wrote smut for @boomhauer in an apology for all my joe keery/steve photo blasting lately. I hope you like it! Eddie Munson x you, use of Y/N and petname baby, slight fingering (reader receiving, eddie performing), unprotected PIV intercourse/creampie, coming so fast it'll give you whiplash | This post is NSFW and contains smut so 18+ only

A/N: So sorry this is late, I ended up having a busy weekend and was unable to edit/post from my phone. I hope it was worth the wait! Also, I promise if you don’t like this song, it’s not a creepy fic. It’s just two idiots snuggling in a sleeping bag together that leads to a good time. No coercion I promise. All consensual.

2.5k words

Day 06 | Track 06: “Baby It’s Cold Outside” by Dean Martin

You thought when your aunt offered up their cabin for a winter getaway it sounded like a great idea. A much needed vacation for the group of you older kids. To be away from Hawkins and the young ones and just be kids yourselves again for a little bit.

As you watched the sky turn darker, purple tint falling across everything as the white snow fell in what seemed like heapfuls, it’s only mission in life to attack and annihilate the planet, you started to think it was actually the start of a terrible horror movie.

So far, you were the only one there, your parents dropping you off on their way to their own vacation. You let the curtain fall in front of the window as you searched the cabin, deciding that knowing where extra blankets, candles, and the liquor cabinet was located were all becoming drastically more likely to be of use.

You were pulling on another sweater and wool socks when the phone rang and you ran to it, sliding a little on the cabin’s wood floors, answering it breathlessly, “Hello?”

Static filled the other side and you tried again, “Hello?”

“Oh! Y/N! Thank god!” Robin’s voice was crackling and you pushed the phone closer to your ear like that would help.

“Robs, I can barely hear you-” more static that made you pull back a little.

“Steve and I are stuck in a little town not too far…” static took over her words, trailing in and out of a coherent sentence, “motel. Eddie should…” and then the line went dead.

Eddie should what? Should have been here by now? Was she going to say shouldn’t have and then what?

Your fingers started to itch as you realized the phone was completely dead, no static or dial tone. You looked around and the lamps you had clicked on were all out.

Oh shit. Totally a horror movie.

Glad you had in fact located extra candles, you started to light them as the cabin started to fall into darkness and then you heard a loud bang and froze.

You were alone in a cabin, stuck in a snowstorm with no transportation, and the power went out. You were the idiot who got killed off first and all of your friends would still come up the following day, unsure of what happened and get sucked into the plot of the movie, all running from whoever or whatever got you first.

You grabbed the closest thing to you as you heard the thudding get louder, the door swung open and you lunged towards the figure in the door who was screaming right back at you.

Hands up in the air and large brown eyes blinking at you and you stopped, a box of macaroni noodles suspended in the air as you tried to catch your breath. It was just Eddie.

You threw the box of noodles at him anyways, “Don’t do that! I could have killed you!”

Eddie had his hand over his heart, catching his own breath, but he caught the box with a lopsided grin on his face, “With uncooked pasta?”

You crossed your arms, the sudden chill he let in reminding you that you didn’t have heat anymore and frowned, “Shut up.”

Eddie looked around at the candles and his smile fell, “Fucking hell. Do we not have power?”

You shook your head, “Just went out. Robin called me and-”

“Are they okay? I lost them when we stopped for gas, Steve’s little BMW should not be driving in that shit.”

You nodded and moved your way to the living room, “Yeah from what I could hear, it sounded like they stopped at a motel. So just us tonight I think.”

Eddie smirked as he removed his snow covered outer layers, pushing a duffle bag across the floor.

You looked at the unlit fireplace and asked, “What? What’s so funny?”

Eddie laughed as he hung up his coat, “Oh just Harrington and Buck stuck in a snowstorm in a tiny motel room. I feel like I’d pay money to watch how that all unfolds, arguing over TV channels, sides of the bed, all that,” he came over to the fireplace, “Plus, you know, we’re definitely living the plot of a horror movie.”

You groaned and rubbed at your cold cheeks, “Don’t say that, I was already thinking that before you got here. I’m the first dumb girl to go.”

Eddie started to poke around in the fireplace and chuckled, “Nah, you’re the first girl. You’re the one who makes it out in the end. Movie ends with you covered in the blood of some crazy monster or serial killer that you defeated in some revenge plot for killing your…”

He trailed off and you tried to calm your heart down, because Eddie saying you were the badass who lived in a horror film over everyone may have been a throwaway comment to him, but for you it was the greatest compliment and you were swooning a little.

His tongue was out as he concentrated on lighting the logs when the familiar woosh of the flame catching filled the small cabin and his lips fell into a smug and confident smile, you had to turn away from how cute he was. You grabbed all the extra blankets you could find and dumped them in front of the fireplace. He looked at the blankets, the fireplace and then around at all of the candles before his eyes landed on you. Both of you turning away from the other quickly, him mumbling something about changing.

You tried not to focus on Eddie’s movements as you unrolled your sleeping bag, tucking more blankets into it and over it. As he left and walked down the hall, you took the liberty of unfolding his sleeping bag and went down the hall to change yourself.

Shivering from being away from the fire for only a few minutes, you returned to find Eddie starting to zip into his sleeping bag, a plain sweater and sweatpants, you had never seen him so casual before, like his layers of defense were gone.

You tucked yourself in and no matter how you rearranged the blankets, you were freezing.

You listened as Eddie was doing the same, and you were fairly certain he could hear your teeth chattering.

“Y/N?”

You rolled to see only his big brown eyes blinking at you, the flames of the firelight flickering in them and his nose poked out, a little pink. You shook from your shivering and he closed his eyes before blowing out his breath, “Okay, I’m totally not trying to be a perv, but would you want to share sleeping bags? I feel like it would help.”

You knew he was right, but the thought of you and Eddie sharing a sleeping bag was overwhelming. But as your teeth clinked together you found yourself nodding. He slowly unzipped his and you crawled in, careful to keep your arms from drifting past his elbows and facing him, chests and legs pressed together but both of you rigid against the other’s body.

You pulled your sleeping bag and the blankets around you both and already it was better, the heat from the fire on your forehead and Eddie’s breath on your cheek. You pressed your hands tighter, curling up against his chest and looked up at him through your lashes, whispering, “Is this okay?”

He nodded and cleared his throat, arm wrapping around your waist, “This?”

You nodded and took a deep breath, the scent of Eddie’s soapy laundry detergent filling your nose and making you a little dizzy, nose pressed to his collar.

You inched a little closer, risking the movement of your legs tangling in his a bit, pressing your cheek to his chest and listened to his heart beating rapidly underneath it. You smiled at the thought of him being just as nervous as you and wrapped one of your arms around his waist too, fingers touching the skin on his lower back where his shirt had raised a little.

He sucked in his breath and you started to pull away, “Sorry, too cold or-”

He pulled you closer, “No! I mean,” his cheeks were pink, and he cleared his throat again, “No, just surprised me. It’s good. It’s nice.”

He was babbling and you scooted closer again. Listening to the fire crackle, Eddie’s heartbeat and breathing slowing, you felt your eyelashes fluttering together. You started to move your fingers up and down Eddie’s spine and he hummed a little, arms wrapping around you tighter.

His own fingers were buzzing small circles into your lower back and you shivered, and didn’t argue when Eddie whispered, “Still cold?”

You felt him pull your arm away and before you could protest at the lack of contact, he was rolling you, back to his chest and curling you into him, both of his arms wrapped around you and your legs tangled together.

His breath on your neck and close to your ear as he whispered, “Better?”

You gasped at the heat of his breath on your skin and nuzzled back into him as you nodded. His fingers splayed across your stomach and thigh and you pushed your hips back into him. Your skin was buzzing with electricity, Eddie’s breath in your ear doing something to you that you’d never felt before. You were on the verge of making a needy, whimpering noise when you felt his hardening length pressing into your ass.

You rolled your hips back into him slowly and he nudged against you, fingers continuing to leave a buzzing trail on your stomach and through the layers on your hips. His breath continued to fan up and down your neck. A teasing game you were playing, your hips rocking into him like it could be an accident, him nudging back against you, but the more you kept doing it, you both knew it was on purpose. Bodies slowly pushing closer together and hips rolling against one another. Your heartbeat pounding in your chest and underwear growing wetter as you both slowly grinded into each other.

His nose nudged just under your ear, his lips grazing your skin and your hand laced itself into his, and you arched your back into him, pulling his fingers to your waistband.

You pushed his hand past the layers, thick fingers sliding through your slick easily and you shivered against him, guiding his other hand to your hip and rocking against his fingers moving up and down through your wetness.

You heard him whisper so quietly, that if his mouth hadn’t been directly behind your ear you wouldn’t have heard him, “fuck me, is this really happening?”

You giggled and wrapped your fingers back into his hair, pulling him to your neck harder, his lips traveling up and down it. You moaned as he nipped at your skin before sucking a bruise into you as his fingers pushed into you deeper.

Removing his lips from the new mark and trailing down your jaw, he whispered into your skin, “You know, I think I read somewhere that if you take your clothes off, your bodies can-”

You started to pull down your bottom half layers and you felt his fingers still and you grabbed his wrist, pushing him to keep moving and he started babbling into your neck, “Oh my-fuck, okay, you sure?”

You laughed and pushed yourself into his erection, rolling your hips as his fingers continued to glide through your folds, not sure what else to show him how you wanted this desperately so you said, “Yes, Eddie. Gonna take your pants off now or…?”

He nodded into your neck, shimming his sweats down, and you shivered as he slid between your thighs, both of you a little breathless. He reached up and turned your chin, eyes wide and concerned and you knew he was going to be sweet and ask you if you were sure again.

You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips to his and you felt him relax, sighing into your mouth. He pulled away and brushed the hair from your neck, pushing his tip through your folds and into your entrance slowly.

Eddie pushed deeper, both of you gasping at how your walls clutched him tighter, his fingers splayed across your hip, digging into your skin and dragging you up and down slowly and to your delight, he whined into your ear.

Bodies slowly grinding together, Eddie’s hips rocking up into you, his breath hot on your neck and ear, his hand squeezed your hip once more before trailing up your side till he reached your chest, cupping one of your breasts.

Your eyelids were fluttering closed, the feeling of Eddie sliding in and out of you slowly as his breath buzzed into your skin was sending you into a euphoric state. Eddie pressed more kisses into your neck as his hand traveled back down your stomach.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last,” he gasped against you and you whined, arching your body away from him, needing more and also already feeling like it was too much.

Eddie’s fingers pulled some of your slick up and to your clit, pressing soft figure eights into it as his hips started to thrust up into you faster, pulling your leg over atop his, spreading you wider for him.

You clutched the blankets, the arousal and tension that had been building for too long threatening to snap, “Eddie, please, fuck!” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, wanting him to slow down and go faster all at once.

He gripped your hip as his other hand worked faster into your swollen bundle of nerves, his thrusts hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you and his breath was hot in your ear as he groaned, “I know, come on, let go for me baby.”

His voice in your ear was the tipping point of no return, his thrusts started to stutter as you screamed out his name, his lips and nose nudging down your neck as his finger continued to swirl and press into you softly. Your orgasm crashing into you both at the same time, tightening around him as you cried out and his hot ropes of cum painted your walls. Both of you were breathless, panting against one another.

Eddie kissed your neck and laughed a little, “Now is definitely when the killer comes in.”

You smacked his hip, “Eddie!”

You felt his smile against your neck as his arms wrapped around you tighter, despite you being as close as you could be still, and he whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

His lips brushed down to your collar, fingers tracing soft circles on your bare hip and his nose nudged at your shirt, whispering, “I really did read something about keeping warm without clothes on,” his lips brushed up to your ear again and he squeezed his arm around your waist as he whispered, “It’s only going to get colder outside, baby.”

Twelve Days of Christmas Playlist:

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #stranger things fanfiction #twelve days of christmas

749 notes · View notes