#the beer brand told us | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peachesofteal · 4 months

Text

Simple Math / Part Six

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings - tags: 18+ MDNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Nurse reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Reference to past domestic violence. Angst. Alcohol. Crying, anxiety, panic. Johnny in distress. Johnny is still a menace. Soft dads. POV switches. Note: Safe sleep for infants always. I do not endorse sleeping with your baby in your bed. This is a fic not real life. Simon does some digging.

“Shhh now, ye’re alright.”

Johnny coos, Penny cradled up to his chest. He’s not wearing a shirt, eyes still half sealed shut with sleep, and she squalls in his arms, screaming as loud as her little lungs will allow. “What is it, mah wee lamb? Are ye hungry? Do ye need a change?” He checks her nappy, efficiently looking for a mess or something to clean up and is nearly disappointed when he finds her still dry. If it’s not her nappy, then maybe her stomach? Could she be hungry again? He thumbs through the notes on his phone to find Simon’s last entry: 23:20 – 50 ML.

That was only an hour ago.

He frowns, walking in a circle, bouncing her gently, trying to settle her back to sleep. She’s so tiny, and still has grown so much in just the short time since they brought her home. It amazes him. It terrifies him.

“What is it, sweet bairn? What’s got ye all upset?” He touches his lips to softest skin he’s ever felt, his thumb trying to swipe away the tracks of tears on her cheeks. “Please dinnae cry. I-“

“You okay?” Simon clears his throat behind him, and Johnny tenses.

“We’re fine. Ye’re supposed to be sleepin’.”

“Heard the two of you in here fussing. Thought I could help.” Simon’s trying to be supportive, trying to be a good partner, Johnny knows, but all he can feel is irritation, a defensive reaction making his hackles rise.

It’s not fair. He’s so good at it. He’s a natural. And Johnny… Johnny feels like he’s failing his own kid, when she’s not even a month old yet.

“I dinnae need-“

“Hey.” Simon touches his elbow, and then his chin, tilting his face upwards. “I know you don’t, love. You’re doing a great job. It’s not your fault she’s having a rough go.” He soothes him, fingers kneading into the top of his spine, squeezing the nape of his neck and pulling him into his arms. Penny is still crying, but softer now, a low-pitched tone of misery that makes his heart ache, and he feels so overwhelmed, so helpless, staring down at her as she tries desperately to tell him what's wrong, the only way she knows how. He rests his cheek against Simon’s chest, melting into his hold, letting him wrap his arms all way around his waist.

“She hates me.” Johnny grumbles, and Simon presses his mouth to Johnny’s temple in short, succinct kisses.

“She doesn’t. She’s brand new. She can’t hate anything, yet, and certainly not her Da.” He strokes her cheek. “Let’s bring her to bed, see if we can get her down and then one of us can put her back in the crib, alright?” Johnny sighs.

“Alright.”

“What’re you doing after this?”

“Going to bed?” What else would you be doing?

“I’m thinking about going to Jackie’s for a drink… wanna come?” Nia untucks her scrubs, pulling the top up over her head.

“Jackie’s, huh?” You chew on your lip. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But… Jackie’s is a dive. It’s dark, and dingy, with black walls, black floors, no window in sight. And... it’s a hospital haunt.

“It’s my birthday.” She whispers, casting a glance around the rest of the room. “I’m not… it’s not a thing, I just want to go, have a few to celebrate.” You take a deep breath. “Please?” She tacks on at the end, and your shoulders dip down in defeat.

“Okay. One. And then I gotta go.”

“Yes!” She cheers, excitement smashing her palms together.

Nothing like a seven am beer.

Jackie’s is a distinct place. It’s one of the only twenty-four-hour liquor licenses left in the city, or so you’ve been told, and has been frequented by hospital staff for decades. It’s dart boards and dark wood floors, cheap beer and rail vodka, a worn to hell pool table, and an old, disabled juke box that someone broke intentionally, years ago. It’s an institution, and reminds you of some old places you used to frequent, when you weren’t… who you are now. Years ago, before, you used to love a good dive bar. Didn’t mind the way the floor stuck to your feet, and you considered yourself nearly tactical at darts. It was a source of pride, the accuracy, the rate at which you could make a bullseye, even when you were a few sheets to the wind.

“Coulda been a surgeon.” You’d tease, a smirk growing across your boyfriend’s face.

“If you were a surgeon, sugar, who’d be at home waitin’ for me after work?” He’d push back, coating the warning in an adoration, giving whoever was undoubtedly watching a slick smile before snaking an arm around your waist and tugging you close. “You don’t need to be surgeon. You don’t even need to work. You have me.”

You thought you knew, then. Knew how to handle it, how to navigate the ever-present, ever-growing threat… but you were wrong.

You were so, so wrong.

“So, heard there’s a spot opening up on days.” Nia chucks her purse at the bar top, climbing onto the stool next to you. “You’ve got the seniority… you givin’ it any thought?” The bartender walks by with a hello, and you nod at him.

“Old Speck please. And no, I like nights.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know Americans liked Old Speck.”

“We have it in the states. I didn’t live under a rock.” You quip, and she laughs before ordering her own poison, a choice that makes your own eyebrows shoot up in question. “Vodka on the rocks?”

“I’m a straight to the point kind of girl.” She explains. “So, no days?”

“No days. You?”

“I might. Night shift is kicking my ass.” She complains. “Don’t even know what day it is half the time. My rhythm is off.”

“You need like, at least six months to fully adjust.” You put a note down in exchange for your beer, and then the bartender scuttles away, distracted by some insistent woman at the other end of the bar.

“Six months?!” You’re about to launch into your spiel about how it’s not that bad when your phone vibrates in your pocket.

>Make it home from work alright?

>It’s Johnny, by the way :)

The two texts are the start of a new group chat with your number, Johnny’s number and the number you put in your contacts just yesterday… Simon’s. Your head jerks back on instinct, confused.

“You okay?” Nia asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, fine just…uh-“ She peeks over your arm, and giggles.

“Is that your patient? Two sixty-eight?”

“What?”

“Your patient. The military hottie. The one that’s always lookin’ at your bum.” Your face burns, and she tsks. “Ah, don’t be embarrassed. He’s smokin’. Wish he looked at me the way he looks at you.” You’re surprised at the flare of irritation that starts up in your stomach at her, a hot streak of jealously simmering there, burning away indignantly. “Aren’t they… I mean… isn’t the scary mask guy his partner?” He’s not scary, you scowl inwardly. He’s just… protective. The butterflies in your stomach startle, and you drift back to last night, in the stairwell, in the car.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.”

Nia says your name, dragging you back to earth, and you shrug. “Yes… they… they’re together. It’s just been hard on them, so I think there’s a bit of an attachment growing there. You know, it’s not unusual.” She bites her lip, mouth pushing up into a smile.

“They’re quite fit. Wouldn’t mind if they formed an attachment to me.” She pauses, delicately sucking her gasoline on ice up through a straw. “Gonna text him back?”

“Nia.” You hiss, and she barks out a laugh.

“Oh, come on, just a bit of fun. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s not appropriate.” You remind her, and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re such a stick in the mud sometimes. Remember when Marshall was fucking his brain cancer girl? Now that, was not appropriate.” You do remember- Marshall’s sudden absence, the whispering, the HR investigation that spanned weeks, interviews with everyone on the floor.

Your beer goes sour in your stomach.

“I gotta get home.” You wrap an arm around her shoulder with a squeeze and a whisper. “Happy Birthday.” You feel bad for abandoning her, and maybe in another life you might even consider her a friend, but you’re already too exposed here as it is, and staying any longer would be too indulgent- not to mention, incredibly stupid.

You pass another nurse on the way out and him know that Nia’s at the bar, alleviating your guilt just a tad before you hike up your hood and make a beeline for the train.

By the time you get back to your hotel room, get showered, and collapse on top of the far too big bed, it’s nearly been an hour. You plug your phone in, unlocking the screen to flick on do not disturb, and realize the group message is still open, cursor blinking, waiting for your response.

It’s fine. You can tell you got home okay, that’s not crossing any lines.

>Yeah, just got settled for bed. See you later!

A text from Simon chimes back within a minute, and you squint at it, one eye open.

>Get some rest.

The floor is dead silent at the beginning of your shift.

Nothing beeps or whines or cries, no noise echoes around the corner to where you’re scrolling through Johnny’s chart, getting caught up on his day, triple checking that his levels and vitals are all within normal range. He passed his follow up for the liver procedure with flying colors, and the relief you feel is not unexpected, the weight of worry lifting free from your shoulders without another thought.

He’s fine, he’s better than fine, he’s… too healthy for the ICU.

Reality hits you like a truck, and you stop short, sneakers squeaking along the floor.

He won’t be your patient anymore.

He won’t… be your patient anymore.

The thought twists you into a mess of complicated emotions. A snarled, tangled viper's nest of unknowns, uncertainties, things you're desperately trying to tuck back behind your heart, hide them away so no one, not even yourself, can see them.

This is a good thing. This is what you want. Stable patients, on their way to recovery.

So, you’ll miss them, that’s okay. There’s a little bit attachment, that’s alright.

This is the best case scenario. You’re making a mess of things. You’re getting too involved with your patient and his family. You let Simon drive you home, for fucks sake.

They’re getting confused, because you’re the caretaker. It happens all the time. As soon as Johnny steps down, they’ll forget all about you.

You’re risking too much. You’re risking their safety, their child’s safety, your own.

It’s for the best.

You put your best work smile on when you approach his room, pulling as much air into your lungs as you can manage.

Focus on your job. Your patient. You’re a professional.

Johnny is alone. No Simon, no visitors, nobody keeping him company. It’s a strange sight, and he looks almost uncomfortable, creased brow lowered down over his eyes. That’s… odd. Worse, there’s a heaviness in his gaze, sadness pulling his mouth downwards, usual playful demeanor nowhere in sight. Even sad, he’s a marvel, and every day, he gets stronger, he gets healthier, he gets closer to leaving this room, amazing you with his tenacity, his will.

“Hey, you on your own tonight?” You casually knock on the door frame, and then pull it shut behind you, cocking your head.

“Aye.” He’s sullen, his despair tugging you closer to the bed, an urge to try to comfort him too strong to deny.

“How are you feeling?” You try the subtle question, hoping he'll be forthcoming, and you keep yourself composed as you wait for his answer.

“’m alright.” You tab through his chart, glancing it over once more, if only to assuage your own anxieties, and then tap into his vitals. Everything looks good, last labs look great… so what’s going on?

“Just alright?” His fingers flex in the blanket, tanned skin against white linen, picking at fibers and threads, unable to hold himself still. He looks like he’s going to burst open at the seams, explode inside this room, a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the end of the countdown.

A tear tracks down his cheek. “Johnny?” You step closer, close enough so your fingers graze his, trying to delicately let him know, you’re here. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” The monitor beeps steadily in the silence, his chest depresses with a gust of air.

“It’s… it’s nothin’ bun. I’m jus’… I’m havin’ a bad day.”

“Want to talk about it? I hear I’m a pretty good listener.” You encourage, and his face twists.

“No, I- Ach. Aye, alright.” He shifts in the bed, and you hover in case he needs help, but he waves you away. “It’s… bein’ in here. I want to be wi’ my family. Penny turned one, before I left for this assignment. Was only supposed to be two weeks tops, but then it turned into a month, then two. And now, I’m home… but ’m not really home, and I-“ His voice cracks, raw thread of agonized emotion separating his words, and he swallows it, forcing it back. “I’m blown to bits and cannae even see my own daughter. I’m missin’ out on everything.” Oh, Johnny. Your heart is heavy, and it hurts for him, bleeds as he wipes his face.

“You’re not blown to bits, just a little banged up.” You give him a soft smile, and when he shakes his head, your fingers find his on instinct. You don’t even stop to second guess yourself, fully sinking into the contact with a gentle squeeze. “Hey, look at me.” His lashes are wet, sticky with tears, and he sniffles. “You’re making great progress, Johnny, going to be out of here in no time. You won’t even be in the ICU much longer, and then once you’re downstairs, Penny will be able to come visit all the time. After that, it won’t be too much longer until you’re back home with them.” He nods, and you stroke your thumb across his knuckles.

“Ye think so?”

“You’re the toughest patient I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a fair amount, you know. Traumatic injury recovery takes time, it takes patience, but you’re doing a great job of it so far. You just have to take it one day at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be at home on your own couch, bossin’ Simon around all day instead of me.” He laughs at that, a throaty chuckle capable of spreading heady warmth through your veins, and then gives you one of those stupidly stunning smiles.

“Shouldnae be cryin’ in front of ye.”

“You can cry in front of me any time you want. That’s what I’m here for. Besides, it’s not the first time.” You tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Doesnae count. I was high.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” The untouched dinner tray on his side table catches your eye, and chilling worry reappears in the back of your mind. “You didn’t eat?”

“Didnae have an appetite until ye showed up, pretty girl.” Okay. You can remedy this easily, if he's interested in eating. Lack of appetite is alarming, but if you can get him to eat now...

“You hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. Want me to grab you something?” He brightens, indulging in a spectacular smile, and you take it as a yes with a small laugh. “Alright. Let me run down to the café, yeah?”

“What’s that saying, about how I hate to see ye go, but love to watch ye leav-“

“Okay!” you practically shout, cutting him off, fire racing across your skin, and he snickers, palm pressing against his heart like he’s wounded. “I’ll be right back.” You give him a serious look, and and he rubs his palm through his hair, mirth sparkling in his eyes. Holy hell. How is he so attractive? And how is it still so blinding, every time?

You get two of the only option left this late in the evening, chicken soup and some sourdough, balancing the bowls carefully on their trays until you’re placing them down in the room, swinging the little table over Johnny’s lap and settling in beside him, perched on Simon’s recliner. The soup is warm, spiced with herbs and thick with noodles, and you're pleased that it's better than you were expecting, happy that Johnny seems to like it as well.

"Wanted to take ye out properly for our first date, but this will have ta’ do. Simon’s gon’ be so bloody jealous.” He masterfully hums between your bites, and your eyes go wide, trying and failing to swallow your soup instead of choking on it.

“Johnny, we… this… I- this isn’t a date!” you squeak.

“Why not?” He asks, inflection innocent, and your brain rattles around inside your skull, splitting down the middle, falling apart in bewilderment. Why not? What does he mean?

“You… you have a partner. Simon? You know, your family that we were literally just talking about?” He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with this look on his face, one you can’t interpret. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What did Simon tell ye, the other night. When he took ye home?”

“What? He… I don’t remember.” Does he know that Simon gave you his phone number?

Of course, he knows, he started that group text.

Does Simon know what Johnny said, about you coming into their lives? About-

“Didnae he tell ye, we’re here for ye?”

“Y-yeah.”

“We, bunny? We.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” He sighs. What is he trying to say? What is going on?

“We like ye. Like I said, we think ye’re really special. Simon, and I. Together, bun.”

“Wh-what?” Puzzle pieces snap together and then break apart, like a landscape jigsaw that you spent days completing once before it was promptly ruined. Does he... does he mean... Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no. You have to squash this. Now. Just explain it, he’ll get it. He’s smart. “No… no, Johnny it’s just… it’s this thing, that happens. Patients get attached to their nurses or doctors sometimes, it’s normal. You d-don’t like me, I promise. There’s nothing even to like.” He blinks, jaw grinding under stubble. If Simon’s stare feels like he’s reading your mind, then Johnny’s is like being pinned down in one place, unable to move. You’re paralyzed, and powerless, lost in the icy blue sea of his eyes, drowning with a hand sticking out above the crest of the surf, reaching for him.

“Why would ye say that? That there’s nothin’ about ye to like? Nothin’ could be farther from the truth.”

“I don’t… there’s not. It’s… I’m your nurse, Johnny. That’s all.” Sweat glosses the small of your back, slicking upwards to cover your spine, and your heart hammers, it beats, beats, beats- so loudly you’re sure the pulse point in your wrist is visible. “Johnny.” His name shakes from your lips, and he relaxes, gentle concern replacing the relentless intensity in his gaze.

“Shhh, hey. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didnae mean to upset ye.” You're still frozen, a statue, and he reaches for you, trying to grab onto your hand. The heat of his skin breaks you from the spell, and you force a robotic, bedside smile onto your face, scooping up your half empty bowl.

"It's okay." You need to get out of this room. Now. The walls feel too close, Johnny feels too close, everything is compounding on top of you, threatening to derail your entire life, ruin your plan. They cannot like you. They cannot care about you. They cannot show interest in you. You can’t let this happen. “I’ve gotta check on some other patients, okay? I’ll swing back your way in a bit.” You promise him, guilt eating you alive about running away, and when he gives you a sad smile, you almost lose your resolve.

“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll see ye later, then.” He murmurs, and you try not to trip over feet during your hasty exit.

Fuck. You’re so fucked.

Simon and Johnny’s house is finally silent.

Penny is down, safely tucked into dream world, her grainy grey-scale image flickering on the video monitor at Simon as he pours two fingers worth of bourbon into a glass.

Poor baby girl. His stomach twists. She put up such a fight tonight, hollering at the top of her lungs, standing up in her crib, working herself into an absolute state. He hates leaving her alone to cry, and on nights like this one, the only way she’ll close her eyes is if she’s being held, snuggled in Johnny's arms, or against Simon's chest.

He’s a sucker, he knows. Doomed from the day she was born, but he can’t help it. Neither of them can. She’s their baby.

So, he doesn’t blame her for being so out of sorts. She always sleeps better when her Da is home. They both do.

His phone vibrates with a text, a short message from Johnny, and he scrolls through it, settling on the couch with his laptop, unopened email from Laswell blinking impatiently.

>She’s jumpy. Tired. Looks like she hasn’t gotten any sleep. Simon frowns.

> She manage to find a pair of panties for work today?

>Unfortunately. He can practically see the pout on Johnny’s lips, can hear the way he probably huffed and puffed when you first came into the room this evening, your hips swishing side to side, pretty smile on your face for him.

>I think I made her upset. Simon pinches the bridge of his nose. Johnny, love. Why can’t you listen? He takes a deep breath, trying to relax the worry that’s creeping up the back of his neck.

Disagreements aren’t for text messages. They’ve learned that the hard way.

>Take it easy for the rest of the night, then. She’s skittish. He shoots off the recommendation, and then pulls his laptop across his knee, clicking open the email from Kate.

Simon, Your girl is a ghost. This kind of wipe work is professional level… are you sure she’s a nurse? I’ve attached everything I could find, but it’s pretty scarce. The name you provided pulled a copy of her NHS nursing license, her taxes, an award she won at work last year, and a COVID vaccination record. No birth certificate, state identification, or public records of any kind, even after a global hand search. Nothing that even proves she exists or is an American except a sealed record from two years ago in the states. It’s not accessible, even for me, which means it could be WITSEC, or a court ordered name change in relation to a domestic violence case. There are 18 states that seal those records to protect the victim, so she could be from anywhere. My gut says it’s probably the latter, which is why she doesn’t exist prior to. You’ll notice on the vaccine record, she marked ‘unhoused’, and I couldn’t find any lease/rental agreements, sale records, or mortgages in her name. I wish I had more for you, but she really is a bit of a puzzle. I’ll keep digging. -K.L.

There’s an unsettling rattle going off in the front of Simon’s skull. It’s a siren, a smattering of warning bells, and he swallows the rest of the bourbon in one go, embracing the burn that slides down the back of his throat.

Who are you, little bunny? And who are you running from?

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader x soap #soap x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader x ghost

1K notes · View notes

bimbobaggins69 · 3 months

Text

˗ˏˋ𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ˎˊ˗

bar-back e.m. x fem reader

blurb request: barback!eddie who let’s you try his newest concoctions on the house🤭 by @bcyhoods

authors note: thank you for participating in my little celebration and sending in your request(s), love. This was such a fun one to write and totally got away from me. Anyway, hope you like! <3

✷ ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+

A fog of smoke greets you as you walk through the double doors of the hideout, some run down dive bar in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, surrounded by cows and cornfields. You can’t help but grimace as each step you take is met with sticky resistance under the soles of your brand new loafers.

You take a seat at the bar, running your fingers over the skirt of your dress while you wait for the bartender to notice you and while you do, you take in every inch of him; in his black leather jacket, long brown waves and rings galore. He’s not like anything you’d ever seen outside of an MTV music video.

You’d spent your whole life around preppy assholes who thought polos and boat shoes were cool. They’d never be caught dead in that bad boy attire or much less in a sketchy place like this. That thought made your heart race with excitement, you set your sights on him and prayed your sweet charm and flirty banter would work in your favor.

“Uh, what can I get ya, sweetheart?” The smoothness of his voice instantly makes you want to clench your thighs, but you decide against it as your eyes meet his.

“Mmm, got anything sweet?” You ask with a flirty smile, you don’t want to lay it on thick too soon, just little by little for now.

“Sure, I can whip somethin’ up for you.” He says proudly, bending down to grab a whisky glass and a bottle of some fruity liquor. “Sorry, we don’t have anythin’ more fancy, we really only get beer and whisky orders here, if you can believe it.” He says sarcastically as he looks around the smoke filled bar, met with older working men and bikers who were, to no surprise holding an aforementioned beer or whisky.

“It’s fine.” You say, waving off his apology with a small swat to the smoky air. “So… aren’t you a little young to be bartending?” You ask curiously, also as an attempt to keep the conversation flowing.

“Ah, well you’d be right. I’m not quite a bartender yet, more of a bartenders assistant if you will. But…” he looks around with dramatic flare, making you giggle. “She’s not around at the moment, so looks like you’re stuck with me, princess.” The pet name sends a thrilling swoop straight to your stomach.

“Maybe I wanna be stuck with you.” The words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to fully process them and you immediately want nothing more than to swallow them back down. Your face heats up with humiliation when he raises an eyebrow that gets lost somewhere underneath his shaggy bangs.

He doesn’t even acknowledge your little slip up, instead he shakes his head as a smirk forms on his pretty lips, all the while pouring some red liquor and pineapple juice concoction into your glass. You both let the awkward silence flow around you, although the bar is anything but silent.

“So, tell me what ya’ think?” He beams, scooting the half filled glass closer towards you. The silver of his rings glint off of the yellow lighting and you can’t help but want to do some very shameful things to those fingers while he’s wearing those rings.

After the third concoction of his amazing fruity cocktails, you begin feeling that familiar burn in your chest. You’re nowhere near drunk just feeling loose, which was never good for the people around you.

“So, why haven’t I ever seen you around?” The metalhead asks as he takes a seat next to you at the bar, the bartender had since come back and told him he was off the hook for the rest of the night.

“Well, I was on my way to Loch Nora to visit family…but, well I got a flat and pulled into the parking lot and thought why the hell not? I could use a drink before I go see my uptight aunt and asshole cousin.” You ramble, before stopping yourself with another sip of your coconut cocktail.

“Uptight and asshole seems to be the theme in this shit town.” Eddie chuckles as he watches you between sips of his cheap beer.

“Uptight and asshole also seems to be the theme in my family.” You quip back with a small smile.

“Well I don’t know about uptight but asshole is definitely the theme in mine.” He smirks as he playfully pushes into you with his leather clad shoulder.

“Yeah, well you haven’t met assholes until you met the Harringtons.” You say back with a playful push of your own.

“Harrington? As in S-Steve Harrington?” He stammers, turning towards you in his bar stool as his eyes bore into yours, awaiting your answer.

“Oh, so you’re acquainted with king asshole?” A smile radiates across your face that makes Eddie noticeably gulp.

“Y-yeah, I guess you could say that. But, yeesh I think you might have me beat, sweetheart.” His laugh is boisterous and loud over whatever metal song is playing through the old speakers.

“Tell ya what, how bout I call you a tow truck and cab…and uh, these drinks are on the house since you were nice enough to be my taste tester.” The look on his face tells you he’s anything but ready to see you go. So of course, in your loose as a goose but extremely coherent state, you say something you never would’ve just an hour ago.

“Well, since you gave me something to taste, it’s only right if I do the same, no?” You throw in a flirty wink in a desperate plea to stick the landing of your intended innuendo.

What you didn’t realize was that he was in the midst of taking a sip of his beer and once those words slipped past your lips he immediately went into a violent coughing attack, his eyes wide as if in complete and utter disbelief while you swat at his back, trying to help him catch his breath.

Once his coughing died down, his eyes met yours again and the apples of cheeks bloomed a pretty pink, embarrassment clearly overtaking him.

“W-were you serious?” He asks, as if he was contemplating your proposal and that had the thrilling swoop vehemently returning to your stomach but now it traveled down towards your core as you clenched around nothing.

“Very.” Is all you say, but your eyebrow lifts in question before you begin to stand from your barstool.

Your hips sway seductively as you make your way to the dingy bathrooms, a smile overtaking your futures when you hear sneakers squeak behind you. You push the door open and are immediately met with graffiti riddled walls; it’s filthy, disgusting and so fucking thrilling!

You hear the door shut and lock behind you, and when you slowly turn you’re met with those warm brown eyes that you’ve been fawning over all night.

You don’t say another word, instead you take a few calculated steps over towards him before pushing him up against the graffitied door and smashing your lips into his, in an intense and desperate kiss. He moans into your mouth when your tongue sloppily glides against his, the kiss is all consuming and has you weak in the knees.

His lips pull away and you chase them with a whimper that has him smirking down at you with a cock sure grin.

“Up on the counter, princess. I want that taste you promised me.”

✷ LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED, LIKE YOU’D SERIOUSLY MAKE MY DAY (:

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

723 notes · View notes

lovingmattysposts · 4 months

Text

You don't know me

P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: drinking, partying, smoking, mentions of a toxic relationship. mentions of drunk driving, mentions of alcohol poisoning, smoking

hello!!! and welcome to the first part of my new chris series. I think you guys are going to LOVE this one. I cannot wait to hear your guys thoughts on this, love you as always. also CHRIS HAS A LIP RING IN THE SERIES. you're welcome.

xoxo, autumn

This party sucked. Everyone smelled like beer. It was too loud. Everyone around me was wasted and I just wanted to go home. Every single person I've come in contact with tonight has managed to piss me off in one way or another. Including my boyfriend, Max. Every time he drinks it's like he thinks he can finally say or do anything he wanted to and it did nothing but anger me, but I never said anything. He drinks, that's okay. I guess. I don't. That's okay too, I think.

So mostly being the only sober one at every party he drags me too, isn't necessarily my idea of a good time. Yet I suck it up almost every weekend because I didn't want to upset Max. He does a lot for me I can do things for him. Even if it means that I have to sit in the corner of the room watching my friends get wasted. I mostly find myself watching the clock, hoping one of them decides to call it a night early, or at least get sick so we have an excuse to leave.

This particular night Max was really, really pushing my buttons. First it was about my outfit. He hated it, basically forced me to change. He told me, 'You're an Labraut, you're suppose to look classy Y/n', I remember him glaring at me in my room. Next it was about who was driving. He always insisted to drive every time we went out, promising me that he would let me drive his car home, spoiler alert, he never did. He always wanted to drive home. Insisting that he was fine to drive. Clutching the seatbelt and the door handle as he whipped his brand new BMW across the neighborhoods, begging, praying we got home safe.

We fought in my driveway, over which who was going to drive. Him or me. I told him he could even drive there, just please let me drive home. Somehow within the argument I gave in, letting him drive. He kissed my head and told me not to worry that he would let me drive home this time. I reluctantly smiled as we picked up each of our friends and drove them to the party.

Max used to push me on drinking, not anymore. He gave up early in our relationship. Along with most of the affection, unless he was drunk, then he was all over me. Especially when we went back to my house because my parents would let him stay the night. My parents loved Max. Sometimes I even questioned if they loved him more than they loved me. They told me all the time as I was growing up that they wished I was a boy. That I was suppose to be a boy. They stopped saying that when I turned 14 though. I guess they realized wishing that I was a boy everyday wouldn't magically make me wake up with a dick.

God they were assholes sometimes. They let me basically do anything I wanted, which I gets lonely after a while but you get used to it. I definitely was. Like I said, they were assholes. I think they started to semi-like me when I started dating Max. Which Max ate up. I was getting kind of tired of the way he was treating me. We fought almost the entire way to the party before I agreed to go to his hockey game next weekend that was three hours away, might I add. He couldn't understand why I wouldn't want to drive that far on a Saturday. He didn't understand that sitting home and reading sounded like a better plan to me.

The longer we argued, the more I wanted it to end. So I would ultimately give in after a while. I think Max started to catch on too, because he would never give in until I did. I've learned throughout my life that speaking up for yourself does nothing but cause trouble for yourself. Or at least that's what my mom always taught me. I'm starting to think that's true since I spent the entire rest of the car ride starting out the window, fighting tears.

Max kissed me before we walked into the party. Just a peck, as If to say, "I'm sorry for being such a dick". I smiled at him and we continued into the party.

That brings me here, absolutely annoyed and tired. Sydney walked over in my direction with her usual soft-pitying smile. She was my best friend, really sometimes the only person I could stand in my life. I smiled softly towards her direction.

"Hey babe" She said looking at me. I nodded at her. She sighed.

"If you want to go, I'm sure I could convince ash to let me take him home" She said looking down at me. I shook my head. I didn't want anyone else dealing with drunk Max. That wasn't a task I would put on my worst enemy really.

"It's okay I don't mind. I'm sure he'll want to leave soon" I said softly. She sighed and looked down at her drink.

"Let's try and find him, I'll ask" She said motioning me over to the main living room. I followed her through the crowd.

"It's really fine Sydney, It will just make Max mad if he knows I want to leave" I whispered to her as we approached Max and Cayden, Sydney's boyfriend. Max smiled down at me. His eyes lit up.

"Look! My beautiful girlfriend!" Max said wrapping his arms around the side of my waist and kissing my cheek. "You're so beautiful. Isn't she so beautiful?" Max asked looking over at Cayden who was talking to Sydney. I cringed as he squeezed me tightly against him. Yep, five minutes in and he's wasted. He looked over at Max and raised his eyebrows. His eyes trailed to me. He smiled at Max and shook him off before directing his attention back to his girlfriend.

I attempted to wiggle out of his grip but he squeezed me tighter against him. His lips found the side of my face as he kissed me. He started to nibble on my ear when I pushed his face away. We were in a room full of people. "Max come on" I groaned cringing away from him. "But you look so pretty, in that dress" He whispered. My face was turned away from him.

I was still pissed about our argument in the car. He was being a dick and I wasn't about to forget about that because he decided he's over it. Max kept his hands placed around my waist as he turned me to face him and pulled me against him. He smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I hate when we fight" He pouted. I sighed and resisted myself from rolling my eyes. "Then don't cause fights" I said looking at him. His face fell flat. I could tell he wanted to push the subject, attempting to tell me that the fight was in fact not his fault, but mine, but I knew he wouldn't because I knew where this PDA was about to lead too. I looked up at him, smiling slightly. He just looked down at me, before lifting his hand off my waist and to my jaw propping it up before connecting his lips to mine.

I kissed him back briefly before parting as he attempted to push his tongue into my mouth. His eyebrows furrowed as I parted. I looked around. "We're in a room full of people" I mumbled looking around us. No one was really watching us but I still didn't like the idea. "Babe, no one is watching" He said moving his thumb across my jaw. I turned my head before locking eyes with someone across the room.

His hair was brown. His eyes were blue. He was wearing a t-shirt and somewhat bagging cargo pants. Completely and utter underdressed compared to everyone else in the party. I squinted my eyes at him. I recognized him. His name was Chris. He was standing next to a kid on Max's hockey team that I knew to be Nate. Neither ran with our crowd. I don't really know what they were doing here. He took the drink in his hand before taking a sip. What was he doing? Just standing there watching me, and he wasn't breaking the eye contact. I suddenly felt Max's hands that we on me a lot more than before and I felt my face go red.

Max grabbed my face and positioned it back to him. He bent down and kissed below my ear before whispering something to me. "Can we go somewhere more private?" He said into my ear. There it is. I sighed before grabbing his arms and pushing them off me and stepping back from him. "Max, you're drunk. You know I'm not doing anything when you're drunk" I said crossing my arms over my chest. Max groaned and looked up.

"Babe, I've had two drinks. Two! Cayden-Tell her how many have I had?" Max said holding his hand out to Cayden, who looked pretty invested in whatever Sydney was whispering into his ear right now. Cayden looked up to Max and leaned up wiping the smile off his face. "Huh what? Oh! Right, no it's it's third at most" Cayden shook him off. Max's faced turned angry. "Second" He mumbled through gritted teeth. "Yeah, Whatever man" Cayden waved him off before grabbing Sydney's arm and walking towards the stairs. I watched them as they walked off.

Max turned towards me. "Second, third, forth, I don't care. Not while you're drinking" I said looking at him. He groaned and shook his head. "Oh my God, y/n-" He said shaking his head.

"Max!" Someone yelled from the kitchen. He sighed and then looked over in the direction of the the noise. He looked back down at me. "Don't move okay? I'll be back and you better still be here" He said pointing his finger at me as if I were a child. I huffed before he walked off towards the kitchen. I watched as he greeted other people that had just got there.

I looked up towards the ceiling, trying to calm my anger towards him down. I looked over to the same spot that the boy was staring at me from, but he was gone. I glanced around the room. I didn't see him anywhere. I pursed my lips as I stood in the room alone. I suddenly wondered why I was doing what I was told. Staying put. Fuck that. I walked across the room searching for anyone I knew. I found no one. I looked up at the ceiling.

Why did I do this to myself? I was miserable every time I came. Yet I always allowed Max to guilt trip me into going. I looked toward the back door that led to the backyard. I sighed and walked outside. Maybe some fresh air would do me some good. I stepped out of the door before closing it shut. I sighed breathing in the fresh air. It felt good. Not stuffy like inside. The noise of the party was now muffled.

I crossed my arms over my chest feeling the cold air come over me. It felt nice. I needed some space from Max before I absolutely blew up on him. Today was not the day to push my buttons, I wish the could just take the hint sometimes.

I walked over to the edge of the porch that was attached to the nice house. It was a pretty night. It wasn't cloudy so you could see all of the stars in the night. It was my favorite kind of night. Looking up at the stars made my problems feel so minuscule, and I loved it. Taking the attention off my own life for a second and looking at something bigger than myself. I let out a shaky breath as I looked up.

"Hey"

I jumped turning around, meeting the same blue eyes from earlier. I let out a breath clutching my chest. He scared the shit out of me. He smiled down at me. I noticed a lip ring that hung on the side of his mouth. I wondered if that hurt. Why would you pierce your mouth?

"What the hell are you doing sneaking up on people like that?" I breathed looking up at him, my hand still on my chest. He just looked down at me before bringing the cigarette that was in his hands up to his mouth. I waved the smoke out of my face as he blew it out. He just looked down at me.

"Those's kill you. You know?" I said motioning to the cigarette. He looked down at the cigarette and then at me, before turning and putting it up to his mouth again. I watched him as his lips wrapped around it and when he inhaled the end of it lit up and the the smoke he exhaled through his lips. I swallowed. He blew out the rest of the smoke before responding. His eyes glanced down to meet mine.

"A lot of things kill you. Might as well choose the one's that feel good" He said glancing down at me. I wanted to laugh at his statement. "That's stupid" I said shaking my head and looking down. He raised his eyebrows before throwing the cigarette down at our feet. I moved over away from it. He chuckled. I looked up at him.

"Don't worry princess, it's won't get on your designer shoes" He said shaking his head. My eyebrows furrowed. My shoes were expensive, but I didn't overly care about them. It was the way I was brought up. I was taught to care. So I do. What's wrong with that? I swallowed and looked forward not likely the energy between us.

"So where's your boyfriend?" He asked after a few seconds of silence between us. I felt a blush creep up my neck remembering that he witnessed that. I didn't want to be that girl who hooks up with her boyfriend in front of a bunch of people. I licked my lips and looked at my hands.

"I don't know. Inside?" I guessed. I didn't want to talk to him about Max. I didn't really want to talk to him at all period. I just wanted some fresh air. Some peace and quiet. I looked up at him, he was staring forward. Didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He lifted his eyebrows and put his hands in his pockets. I crossed my hands over my chest.

"Why were you watching me in there?" I suddenly asked. He chuckled. I hate when people did that. Laughed at things I said that weren't meant to be funny. It made me feel little. Max did it constantly. He sighed and looked down at me. "I just thought it was interesting" He mumbled. I scoffed. What was so interesting about me and Max?

"You thought what was interesting?" I asked meeting his gaze. He looked down at me, with a small smile on his lips. He shrugged. "That you weren't giving him what he wanted" He said looking back forwards. My eyebrows furrowed. How did he pick that up from the few seconds he looked at me? I suddenly felt very vulnerable in front of a boy I'd never talked to before. I felt like he knew me. Like he could read me.

"Feel like that doesn't happen a lot with your kind" He said. I turned towards him, starting to get angry of his demeanor. "My kind?" I asked. His face turned towards me and smiled as he realized that I didn't like that. It was like this was entertaining for him. To see me squirm.

"I'll have you know that Max and I's business is none of yours. And for you to sit here and attempt to belittle me, for what? Because you know I have money? I was just coming out for some air and some peace and quiet and you approached me. You didn't understand anything that you think you saw okay? Stop attempting to figure it out" I spat at him.

His face didn't change as I yelled. He just licked his lips and looked at me. His gaze held power. I felt it in my body the way he looked at me. So calm, yet overpowering. I just yelled at him and a smile still was on his face, vaguely.

"You done?" He asked raising his eyebrows. My eyebrows furrowed. I took a deep breath unfolding my arms. "Yeah" I breathed. I give in easily. I don't know why. It's just the way I'm wired. I think it comes from my parents. Or maybe from Max. I don't know. I just don't like fighting.

He nodded before reaching in his pocket and pulling out another cigarette and then grabbing a lighter and lighting the end. I just watched him as he did this as if we weren't in the middle of an argument. He breathed It in and blew out more smoke.

"How many of those do you smoke a day?" I asked furrowing my eyebrows at him. He finished his other one nearly 3 minutes ago. How could he already want another one? He dropped the hand the held his cigarette and he looked down at me. I swallowed.

"Why? Are you worried about my heath?" He smiled. I bit back a smile and looked down. I shrugged. "Maybe" I breathed. We both laughed and looked away. Silence fell between us.

"It was just nice seeing him not get what he wanted. Your boyfriend's kind of a dick" He said after a few seconds. I rolled my eyes. "So you are" I said back. He shrugged blowing out smoke. "True" He smiled. I smiled and shook my head. I should definitely not be smiling this much with another guy. I suddenly felt like I was doing something wrong. I felt like I should walk away, go back and find Max, but my feet weren't moving and my mouth wouldn't stop talking.

"Where's your friend?" I asked looking up at him. His eyebrows furrowed and then clarity hit his face. "You mean Nate?" He asked looking around. I nodded. He shrugged. "Lost him a few minutes ago when I went to smoke. He doesn't smoke" He said looking down at me. I smiled and nodded.

"Ah, sounds like Nate is the smarter one of you two" I said looking up at him. He raising one of his eyebrows and looked at me as he inhaled another round of smoke. "Is that what you think princess?" He asked quietly. Jesus Christ. I swallowed and looked away from him. Why can I hear his voice throughout my entire body? I hated it.

"Stop calling me that" I quickly said looking away from him. He didn't stop looking at me and I felt his gaze burn into the side of my head. I let out a shaky breath. He finally looked away humming. I suddenly hear the back door open.

"There you are! Geez, stop running away!"

We both turned around at the noise. I saw Sydney walking towards us and she grabbed my arm starting to pull me away from Chris. Her eyes shifted to Chris and looked him up and down before looking at me and giving me a confused look. I just stared at her with a blank expression feeling in my soul as if I had been caught doing something bad.

She didn't say anything as she continued to drag me away back towards the party. I turned and looked at Chris, who had an unreadable expression on his face as he watched me be physically dragged away. She pulled up back into the house and closed the door. She turned and faced me withe a furrowed expression.

"What were you doing?" She asked looking at me. My face turned red. "I just wanted some air" I said looking at her. She just looked at me for a second as if investigating my expression. She shrugged and then walked towards the steps. I quickly followed behind her. She started to walk up the steps and turned to face me.

"The boys are upstairs, I think they might want to leave soon" She said as we walked. I sighed of relief. Thank God. I felt like I've been here for ages. I nodded as we walked and finally made it up the steps. The room was very crowded, almost more crowded that downstairs. This house was absolutely huge, so there had be like 200 people here to make it feel this small.

I hated crowded places, even though I'm forced to go to huge events like this more often that the average person. I hated it, but it's what I had to do. With a last name like mine, you don't get by with skipping an event here or there. You have to attend every. single. one.

Sydney started to look around people looking for our boyfriends when I glanced around the room seeing two people getting to it on the other side of the room. I made a disgusted face and was going to by pass them when something caught my eye. I looked back at the two people.

Max was wearing that shirt.

I narrowed my eyes. The guy's back was to me but he had a girl pinned up against the wall, sucking on her face. Curly brown hair. The blue shirt. My fucking boyfriend. I gasped catching Sydney's attention. She turned towards me and looked where I was looking.

"Did you find them?" She asked scanning where I was looking when she suddenly made the same gasp as me. Anger rose in my system. Are you kidding me? I clenched the fists that were at my side and I felt anger rise up my neck. "Is that-" Sydney started to asked. She turned to look at me but my face was glued on the people. "Y/n-" She started to say but I turned and immediately bolted down the steps.

I don't think I've ever been so angry in my entire life. My face was pounding. I could hear it in my ears. I couldn't think. No thoughts were going through my head, but anger. The room got louder. It got blurrier. My fists were still clenched as I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill him. I made it down the steps. Sydney was quick to follow me.

"Y/n! Stop! Wait a second!" She yelled trying to follow me. How could he? I couldn't even think to be sad because of the amount of anger that was fogging my vision and my decision making. I didn't wait for her as I moved through the crowd of people. Did it suddenly get hot in here? I'm burning up. My jaw was clenched. I needed revenge. That was the only thing that my mind could think of. I didn't need planned revenge. I needed immediate fucking revenge.

I made it to the kitchen and placed my hands on the counter. Sydney followed me in. "Are you okay? What are you thinking? What do we do?" She asked a million questions at me. She was panicked I could tell. I just breathed heavily as I looked down at my feet. I looked back up and scanned the room, meeting the faces of others. Revenge. Revenge. Revenge.

"Y/n talk to me. What are you thinking?" She asked looking down at me. I turned to scan the room. My eyes met that backdoor. That boy. I picked my hands up off the counter, pushing myself up off of it. I hate him. I hate him. I could kill him. I set off towards the backdoor. Sydney quickly followed me. I opened the door violently and walked out.

Nate was now outside with Chris. Both of their eyes shot towards me as I walked outside. Chris raised his eyes at me. His gaze overtook me again as I walked towards him. "Party is inside Princess" He said looking at me, brushing me off. That comment would piss me off if I wasn't already clouded with anger towards someone else. Nate didn't say anything he just watched me as I walked up to Chris.

Chris looked down at me. Sydney stopped from a distance. I looked at his cigarette in his hand. I reached up, taking it out of his hands before bringing it up to my mouth. Chris just watched me.

Please lungs don't fail me, I swear I'll never do this again.

I inhaled slowly and softly letting the smoke run down my throat. I took the cigarette out of my mouth before blowing the smoke out of my mouth. By the grace of God, without coughing. He raised his eyebrows at me. I threw the cigarette down at my feet before stepping on it with my shoes. Not thinking in the moment of the repercussions of my $600 shoes.

I looked back up at him. He opened his mouth to say something but I reached up grabbing his front of his shirt with my hand and pulling him down to me. I connected our lips. I heard Sydney gasp. It took him a second to figure out what the hell was going on, as well as me. My lips froze for a second as well as his, but after half a second his lips overtook mine, kissing me back. My lips started moving again once they felt how good his lips felt.

I dropped my hand from his shirt and placed my hands on his face as we kissed. This was weird kissing someone other than Max. It felt different, it felt good. I felt his lip ring against my lips. The cold dark metal. It felt so good. That's why he has a lip ring.

I tugged on it softly with my teeth, making him breathe in slightly. I felt him swipe his tongue on my bottom lip and then into my mouth. I let him in as we kissed deeper. He tasted like cigarettes, alcohol, and bad decisions. It was an amazing combination. If two people weren't watching us make out right now, I would have allowed myself to moan, but I had already been publicly embarrassed enough for one night.

I felt his arm snake around my back pulling me against him. God this was good. This was so good. I smiled against him as we kissed. One of my hands went up into his hair.

"Y/n!" Kylie whispered sternly. I disconnected our lips, but we didn't move apart from each other. We both just stayed breathing heavily. Staring at each other, connected. He removed his arm from my back and I moved my hands from his hair, separating us. I looked over at Sydney who looked horrified at me.

"Alright then" Nate said looking at me.

I looked back, feeling myself start to turn red. "What was your name again?" I asked feeling myself go blank. My head was still spinning. He chuckled and looked at me smiling. "Chris" He breathed. I nodded before turning around and walking up Sydney. She stood frozen looking at me. I walked past her, grabbing her arm on my way, dragging her back inside. She stumbled behind me as we went inside.

"What-What was that?" She laughed looking at me. I let out a deep breath. I was no longer angry. Every angry though and emotion that was running through my veins left when my lips touched him. Like a breath of fresh air. I smiled at her. "Revenge" I smiled. She shook her head laughing.

My moment of clarity of happiness and calmness was shaken when I saw Max making his way over to me from across the room. Anger started to rise inside of my stomach again. I should just punch him. Not give him an excuse to explain himself. I felt myself get angrier the closer he got to me. His eyes met mine and he smiled. Smiled. How could he stand there and smile knowing what he just did? I'm going to kill him.

He finally made his way in front of me. "Hey, babe I was looking for you" He breathed, his dimples showing promptly through his smile. I clenched my fists and opened my mouth to scream at him. To humiliate him. To destroy him right here in front of everyone for what he just did to me, but I stopped. My eyes glanced down to his shirt.

A white shirt.

My face went pale. I looked up at him, unclenching my fist and guilt washing over my whole body my legs almost went numb. "Your-your shirt" I pointed at his shirt. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his shirt. "What about it?" He laughed lightly at me. I looked over at Sydney who's expression was the same as mine. Horrified. I swallowed looking up at him.

"Wasn't it b-blue? You were w-wearing a blue shirt." I said looking at the shirt again, panicking. He looked down at his shirt and then back up at me. "Babe are you okay? Did you drink anything?" He chuckled placing his hand on my shoulder. Oh my God. Oh my God. I looked down and felt my heart beating out of my chest.

I just cheated on him.

I shook my head quickly and didn't look at him.

Suddenly one of Max's friends came stumbling up to us. His name was Mitch. He grabbed Max's shoulders attempting to stabilize himself. Max looked over at him laughing. "Dude where'd you put the other beers?" He slurred at him. I looked at him. Blue shirt. Curly brown hair. Fuck. I felt my heart drop. It was Mitch kissing that girl, not Max.

"The fridge dumbass" He laughed pushing him off towards the kitchen. Mitch smiled at him before looking over to me, waving. "Ms. Y/n" He nodded at me. Max pushed his chest. "Go. Stop gawking at my girlfriend" He said smiling shaking his head. Mitch laughed before turning and stumbling into the kitchen. I ran my hand through my hair, attempting to calm my heart rate that was quickening, fast.

"I'm ready to go if you are, I'll go grab your purse" He said bending down and kissing the top of my head. I didn't say anything as he moved past me and out of our view. I snapped my head towards Sydney. She walked forwards grabbing my arms and with wide eyes.

"S-Sydney I could have sworn-" I started shaking my head. She cut me off. "Shh. Shut up. Don't say anything. It didn't happen. Nothing happened, okay y/n? We went outside for air. That's it. It will be okay. You can't act like anything is wrong." She said shaking her head. I swallowed. My heart was pounding in my ears, I could barely even hear her. I felt tears brim to my eyes.

"Sydney, I just ch-" I started but she covered my mouth with her hand. She shook her head. "We will both forget this ever happened okay? Listen to me. Act like nothing is wrong. Like nothing is different" She said looking at me. I nodded as she removed her hand from my mouth. Max walked back over to us. I tried to compose myself. Push down my emotions to my stomach as he handed me my purse.

"Thank you" I smiled at him. He nodded and pulled me to him wrapping his arms around me. "Syd, Where's Cayden? Tell him were leaving" Max said motioning her towards the main room. She nodded and quickly walked away.

Max looked down at me. I smiled at him. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is eating me alive. I love you. We're dating. No one cheated. Everything is fine.

"I'm really drunk" He chuckled pressing his forehead against mine. I smiled at him, leaning up and connecting our lips. The lips that were just on another person's mouth. He pulled back and furrowed his eyebrows, moving his lips around. My face fell, my heart was beating out of my chest.

"Were you smoking?" He asked looking down at me. I swallowed and shook my head. "You taste like smoke" He said looking down at me, but not letting go of me. I shook my head. "You're just drunk Max" I said smiling through my pain. He shrugged before leaning down and connecting our lips again. I pulled away this time.

"You know that I love you right?" I whispered looking at him. His eyebrows furrowed and he nodded. I hope he doesn't think it's weird that I'm randomly telling him this. He sighed and pulled away. "You know just because we fight, it doesn't make me think that you don't love me" he said pulling me into him and wrapping me in a hug. The fight. Yes the fight. I'm saying this because of the fight.

"I love you too" He breathed. I sighed of relief. "I'm here!" Cayden announced himself as Sydney dragged him into the room. Max and I both laughed. Sydney looked more than annoyed. "I leave him alone for 5 minutes. How many shots does he take? Eight" She said shaking her head. I smiled and shook my head at the couple in front of us. Cayden leaned his head on Sydney's shoulder.

"I don't feel so good" Cayden said squeezing his eyes shut. Sydney's eyes snapped towards him and pushed him away slightly. "Do not puke on me I will literally break up with you" She said glaring at him, and we all knew she was serious. Cayden lunged forward, holding his stomach. Max and I stepped back. Sydney gasped and pushed him towards the backdoor. He tumbled over towards the door.

"Out! Out!" She yelled pushing him out of the door. Max followed quickly behind them and I was behind Max as we followed them out. I immediately regretted walking outside, completely forgetting Chris and Nate were still out there until I saw them.

Cayden ran towards the grass before emptying him stomach on the grass near Nate and Chris. My face went red as I looked at Chris. He looked towards Max and then at me. I immediately looked down, not making anymore eye contact. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. Forming in a pit in my stomach.

"What the fuck?" Nate said turning his head and backing away from Cayden. Chris didn't move. His eyes glanced from me to Max. I swallowed. Please. Please. Please. Don't say anything. I secretly wished in my mind over and over.

Sydney walked over to Cayden rubbing his back. "You know I hate when you do this shit" She groaned at him, but I wasn't focused on the fact that Cayden might have alcohol poisoning. I was focused on Chris's eyes burning into mine. I stayed behind Max, hiding like a pathetic little girl who just got in trouble. Hiding from their parents.

Max noticed Chris staring at us, because I felt his body turn towards him. Please. Please. Please.

"What are you staring at freak?" Max spat. I'd like to think that Max wouldn't have been that harsh if he wasn't under the influence, but Chris was right. He was kind of a dick. It bothered me at first, it still bothers me now, but I stopped commenting on it knowing it only made him more angry and hostile. He says that he has to separate his status from others. That he has to show them their place. He didn't say that to me until after we started dating.

After we started to be known as Max and Y/n, Hastings and Labraut. Status and Status. After my parents fell in love with him and after I'd already been on his private jet with his entire family three times. If he had said it prior I would have never gone out with him. I was already in too deep. Our parents had already started picking out wedding venues. I couldn't say anything. I always bit my tongue for the sake of what seems to be the rest of my godforsaken life.

I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the worst outcome of this situation. I glanced up, Chris was looking at me. I didn't have the courage to shake my head, to beg him silently not to say anything, to mouth anything, to even look at him for more than three seconds. Chris looked towards Max, emotionless before turning towards Nate and motioning him towards the gate of the house.

Nate looked at me and shook his head before following Chris away. Sydney and Cayden weren't focused on the silent battle that almost ruined my relationship. Cayden was now down on his knees. "I feel like I'm dying" Cayden groaned. Sydney sat next to him. "We have to get him into the car" She said turning towards us.

I, still frozen, didn't move, didn't react. Max stepped forward and walked over to Cayden picking him up off the ground. Sydney took him from Max, wrapping Cayden's arm around her shoulders, carrying him. Max stepped back and looked at me.

He reached in his pocket before throwing me his keys. His keys. I caught them mid air and looked down at them before looking back up at him smiling. He smiled back at me. The one time he decides to be nice? Really? Tonight? Didn't even fight me on driving, and I just cheated on him. I swallowed looking down at the keys.

"You're gonna let me drive?" I mumbled looking at him. He smiled and walked over to me. "I promised you didn't I?" He said kissing the top of my head. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. I nodded before looking at him. Max smiled before pulling me into him. Sydney stumbled over to us, while Cayden held on to her for dear life. "Walk please!" Sydney said from behind us. We both looked at her and then walked back through the door of the house.

We maneuvered through the crowed house before walking out of the front door towards the line of cars that filled the street. I saw Max's BMW parked a little ways down the street. I couldn't help myself from looking down both ends of the street looking for any sign of Chris. I looked both ways, but nothing. He was nowhere to be seen. He disappeared. I sighed of relief. I didn't realized I had stopped walking before I heard Max calling my name. I snapped my gaze towards him. Feeling as if I had gotten caught.

"What?" I asked quickly. He smiled before shaking his head. "Babe, unlock the car" He said motioning towards the car and Cayden who was now doubled over against the car, groaning. Sydeny sighed as she rubbed his back. I quickly walked over to them before unlocking the car.

"Dude, you puke in my car and I'm taking yours" Max said looking at Cayden before opening the passenger seat sliding in. Sydney opened the back door before shoving Cayden in, then following him. I swallowed and took a deep breath and sliding into the drivers seat.

heyoooo hope you absoluely loved the first part, tell me what you thought

tag list:

@rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @paper-crab @chrisolivia4l @mwah0mwah @recklesssturniolo @ejswift @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @oversturn @ghostgurlswrld @flowerxbunnie @ilytrinsworld @lustfulslxt @kiarastromboli @gemofthenight @blahbel668 @haunted-headset @sturnybabes @bethsturn @d3adlyclassrat @sturnybabes @mattsbitch @chrisluvbot @nickenthusiast @sturniolossmut @biimpanicking @iloveneilperry @chalametbich @dsmja @bernardsleftbootycheek @lovingsturniolo @aoxash @idrkk-123 @gingerbreadgodofhyperdeath @babagurlrichey

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

646 notes · View notes

grimesgirll · 2 months

Text

you and daryl are smoking out the window when rick walks in.

"what do you two think you're doin'?"

mid hit, you almost choke at the sight of the sheriff. breathing in deeply to prevent yourself from wheezing, you pass the joint to daryl as cooly as you can after that hit.

daryl grunts. "buzzkill."

"how quick on your feet are you two right now?" rick questions, blue eyes dark and annoyed.

"we're not on watch." you say in a matter-of-fact way.

"no," rick agrees, "you're not. thank god." he runs a hand through his chocolate curls hurriedly.

"glenn's got it," you assure him, offering him a smile at the same time. "you should sit with us. you don't have to have any, drink one of the beers we brought back." you gesture to the full six packs leaning against the wall, branded with the faded logo of the brewery you guys had picked clean the other day while looking for supplies.

"he doesn't know how to relax," daryl tells you with a scowl.

neither do you, you think, but you just frown and shake your head. "rick, c'mon," you croon from your seat by the window.

"yeah, and shut the door," daryl barks.

rick turns and shuts the door lightly. surprisingly, he does what you suggested and picks up a six pack, errantly dropping it by the foot of the loveseat you're cozy on. he takes up the seat next to you, dark stained bottle in hand.

you grin. this is so not how you expected things to go. usually, rick was all pissed off and disappointed about the fact that you guys were getting high of all things. beside you, he twists on the bottle cap. high and focused on his hands, you watch them struggle against the aluminum cap, tensing and unclenching. with a huff, he uses his white t-shirt to grip the bottle again to no avail. the older man looks up from his ordeal to see you absolutely engrossed in him and smirks at you.

he says your name, breaking you out of what your high ass thought was a self-contained act of voyeurism. "wanna try?" he tilts the bottle your way.

you raise an eyebrow. "if you can't get it open, i don't think i can."

rick just smiles at you, like you said something funny. "i don't want you to use your hands, doll. try your teeth." he catches your confused expression. "remember when you did it at the bonfire a few weeks ago?"

suddenly, you recall standing outside around the fire with the group and accepting a request from maggie to open a beer bottle for her with your teeth. you could never say no to her - neither would you pass up the opportunity to hang out with a buzzed maggie for the night. so you showed everyone how to use your chompers to open the bottle. looking back, rick's eyes had never left you as you slipped the neck of the bottle into your mouth to quickly twist the cap off with your teeth. a move you later told carl not to try. you didn't want to be responsible for any dental damage.

you nod and take the bottle from his hands, sitting up in the loveseat. daryl watches, joint in hand, from the other side of the window while you take the bottle into your mouth and the cap at angle just between your molars. you feel two pairs of eyes on you as you struggle for a moment, the cap not coming loose as easily as you'd thought it would. usually, you could just maneuver it a bit for the cap to pop off, but now you're wondering if this cap is just too old, and you consider giving up. that is until suddenly, you angle your teeth just the right way and the cap comes free. it falls into your palm and you wipe the neck of the bottle off with your shirt for rick, just in case any of your spit got on it.

you try to hand the bottle back to him but rick shakes his head. "no," he gestures back to you. "i think after all that, you deserve the first sip."

who are you to say no?

you bring the bottle to your lips and drink, rick's gaze still on you. you consider chugging the entire thing but first of all, that would be rude and second of all, you're not at college anymore. wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your henley, you pass the bottle back to rick who takes a long, ginger sip as you free your hair from your ponytail and settle deeper into the loveseat.

you remember daryl's there when he offers you the halfway done joint. you want to turn it down but suddenly you're craving more. as the skunky smoke fills the air and drains out the window, you start to even crave a beer. you wouldn't mind getting crossed right now; getting a good mix of buzzed and stoned like in your college days back before the world went to shit. it was a nice way to relax, and it wasn't like you were neglecting your responsibilities.

after that hit, you're zoning out more and more. you had set up the cd player with a lynyrd skynyrd album daryl'd found in a record store with you. they weren't your favorite rock artists, but you guys could've been listening to worse bands in the apocalypse after all. you loosely follow the lyrics of one of their songs while daryl finishes off the joint.

"where'd you even get that?" rick asks, breaking the silence.

"you know some places you would get shot for asking that, 'fore all this?" daryl had told you when you'd asked him that.

"house down the road." daryl answers between puffs. "looks like they were tryna' get ahead of that medical shit."

you snicker. the story was true but without seeing those folks, you really didn't know what kind of operation they had going on. the way daryl phrased it though was a nice way to phrase it to a cop. better than we just found it.

"and you'd smoke it without knowing where it came from?" rick inquires, hand wrapped around the dark bottle.

"we know where it came from," you speak up from in between them. "it came from that house's backyard."

he repeats what he asked daryl.

"there could be anthrax in your beer."

that's when you realize you're super high.

rick doesn't have the opportunity to be confused because he's laughing and suddenly you're giggling in his face. he doesn't take it as an accident when you lean forward and fall into his lap on the loveseat. in fact, he takes the opportunity to lift your chin up, saying, "silly girl," and flipping you over to sit on his lap.

"wanna finish my beer, baby?" he offers it to you, holding it up to your lips.

"i don't need it," you reply but your words are cut off when the bottle breaches your lips anyway and you gulp down the drink. beer wasn't your favorite beverage but, in the apocalypse, beggars really couldn't be choosers. he takes the empty bottle from you and sets it on the end table before leaning back up to connect your lips.

you lean into the kiss as he pulls you closer in his lap. the satisfying pressure on your ass from his squeezing has you hazy minded and wishing he would speed up now that you realize what's happening.

then you remember daryl, the one who you'd originally been hanging out with. you hadn't even planned on seeing rick tonight.

you look up from rick towards the auburn-haired man who was ashing the joint out the window. you frown. isn't that what the ash tray on the windowsill is for? you give him a look that says come here and he walks towards the loveseat, sharing a look with rick that has the men positioning you in their favorite way.

you move willingly; they pull you, pliant and eager to please - eager to just do what someone else says and relax. the joint was supposed to help you shut off your brain after a long day but now you can only think about being pressed in between the two pent up men on the loveseat with you. rick has your bottoms off now and is two fingers deep inside of you when you start helping daryl undo his jeans.

"you feelin' ready or do you need more, baby?" your leader asks you, lips bruising your shoulder.

you shake your head. "i don't need any more fingers." you clarify. "wanna feel your big cock inside of me," you blurt out. usually, it takes you a bit to warm up and they're the ones who talk filthy but tonight you're feeling a little less inhibited.

he raises an eyebrow with condescension. "sure you can handle it, doll? last time i thought i broke you."

you snort. "i think the proper word is reset."

you feel a low rumble from rick's chest and he gently lifts your hips to remove his fingers and lower you onto his cock. you whine at the blunt intrusion but the more you grind your hips down into him, the better it feels, especially once you find a good rhythm. you're pretty sure rick's dick is way bigger than it should be but that doesn't stop you from letting him stuff you whenever you two get the chance to sneak away. it was even more rare to find the time for all three of you to be together like this. speaking of, daryl is standing on your side, dick in hand now that it's been freed from the confine of his pants, looking down at you with darkened eyes.

"wanna finish me off, baby?" he mocks and you roll your eyes, opening your mouth for him as rick bucks into you.

he gladly accepts and just like that, you can feel rick smirking as he fucks into you, barely letting you hold on as he drags your hips up and down. he hijacked your smoke session and it ended just the way he wanted. typical.

even more typical when he makes you switch positions so he can finish in your mouth, not taking his eyes off you while daryl lines himself up with your sopping entrance. rick couldn't help but twitch in your mouth watching how you reacted to daryl's cock in your freshly pounded pussy. his face tenses as he nears his orgasm, hands in your soft tousled hair while you take him in your throat so well. he's ready to just let go, he knows you can handle it, after all he knows you can get off more than a bottle cap with your mouth.

373 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

and what about Rooster? we all know he's loud and the life of the party( nothing wrong with that) but what about when the squad finally meets his "misterious lady" and she's super sweet and calm , the only one who can ground her and they're total opposites but complete each other

please send me top gun requests!!!

Rooster's four beers in, and not stopping soon. The bottle in his hand leaks condensation on the bar, but he doesn't notice as he's shouting to be heard by Coyote who's perched three stools away from him. Phoenix and Fanboy are between them, taking every opportunity they can to root for Bob who was standing at the pool table, and to laugh at Hangman, who was opposite him.

"-anyways I said- I said babe!" Rooster hollers, far too animated as Coyote strains to hear him, "You gotta come tonight! Everyone wants to- to meet you!"

"Man I still don't believe she's real," Coyote grins, taking a sip of his own beer, "You gotta be makin' her up."

"I'm not," Rooster insists, shaking his head, "'Swear to god she's as real as- babe!"

He spots you stepping tentatively into the bar, eyes wide as you scan the room. Everyone there is drinking, everyone there is loud, and everyone there is a stranger.

Except, of course, the man at the bar. Rooster barrels towards you with excitement far too elevated for your sensory levels right now, and you brace yourself for impact. Luckily, he supports you while he tackles you, catching you before you can fall when your feet aren't on the floor anymore.

"Baaaabe," He gushes, squeezing you tight to his chest, trapping your arms at your sides. He lifts you off of your feet and rocks you side to side, beer back at the bar but not forgotten as it courses through his systems, "You're here!"

"I told you I'd come," The hug is comforting, even if it suffocates you, and you breathe in the scent of his laundry detergent through his faded hawaiian shirt. You'd started using the same brand, and you feel closer to him than ever.

"How was work?" He keeps his mouth close to your ear as he leads you through the bar, an arm around your shoulders to weave you through the patrons, "Did you get that project done?"

"Mhm," You hum, your hand still gripping the fabric of his shirt, "One of my team members was out sick today, but she still emailed me stuff. It wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be."

"I'm proud of you," He croons, reaching his stool and easing you into it, "I think you deserve a drink for your efforts."

"Just one, and something light." You warn him, eyes wide, "I'm driving us both home tonight."

He seems to agree with you, though you're not sure if he'll remember by the time you're finished with your first one. There's a moment of silence between you, though the ambiance of the bar still rages around you, and then Bradley's perking up again.

"Oh! He steps out from where he's standing between you and three more occupied stools, "Guys! This is Y/N."

Coyote, who'd joined in on the spectacle of Hangman v Bob, doesn't hear him at first. Phoenix, who you recognize from Rooster's stories, greets you kindly, making a remark about dealing with Rooster 24/7 that's admittedly funny enough to make you giggle.

"Coyote," Rooster shouts, reaching over to smack him on the shoulder, "I said, this is Y/N! Babe," He turns to you, voice still at full volume, "This is-!"

You slap a hand over his mouth before he can finish, eyes nearly squeezing shut as he yells in your face. He doesn't mean to, of course, but the noise is overpowering, and you can't take it.

"Too loud," You remind him, voice soft in comparison. He hears it, watches your lips move while you're speaking, and realizes his mistake, albeit too late. You feel him press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand in apology, his mustache tickling your skin.

"Sorry," He mumbles, much quieter now. You drop your hand so that he can speak normally, but he catches it on the way down, bringing it back up to his lips. He dots kisses along each of your knuckles, standing between you and the open space of the bar so that you're shielded from some of the hustle and bustle, "Didn't mean to scream at you."

"It's okay," You laugh fondly, letting your hand rest in his own. You turn back to Coyote, clocking his wide-eyed expression, "It's nice to meet you!"

"You too," He gushes, eyes bright, "You got him to shut up!"

#rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x reader

3K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Old Habits Die Hard Part 1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley is a student at UVA when he falls for the most unexpected girl. But she's the one who can see past his scars and the doors he keeps closed.

Warnings: Angst, swears, mention of sex

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

Check my profile for my masterlist

Bradley tried to roll over in his bed, but he felt the weight of someone draped across him as he tried to remember how much he drank last night. Probably half a case of beer. He had no idea if he had taken Phoebe or someone else to bed.

He opened one eye against the bright sunlight and pushed the tall blonde off of him. "Phoebe. Wake up."

She groaned in response, but her naked body rolled off of his enough that he was able to stand up. He pulled on his underwear and wandered out into the hallway in the direction of music blaring from the front bedroom.

"Turn it the fuck down!" he yelled as he made his way to the disgusting bathroom he shared with Tyson. He really needed to take some time to clean this place up, but he never let Phoebe stay long after she woke up, and none of the other girls ever complained much.

Bradley splashed some water on his face, looked in the mirror and grimaced. He ran his fingers along the scars smattering his face and neck. The raised, pink flesh was supposedly going to fade over time, but he wasn't so sure he believed the doctors. It all looked virtually the same now in January as it had in July when the incident happened.

Regardless, he fucking hated looking in the mirror now. He used the toilet and washed his hands without another glance at himself.

When he made it back to his room, after a quick detour to turn down the stereo, he found Phoebe was up and out of bed.

She yawned a few times before she pulled on her shirt and then shimmied into her tiny thong. Bradley knew her body like the back of his hand. They'd been fucking since they were freshmen. Now they were both seniors at the University of Virginia, and they were still regularly fucking. He sometimes even called her when he was lonely. She was the closest thing to a girlfriend he had ever had.

"Where the hell are my jeans?" she asked, looking around his room. He picked them up from the foot of his bed and handed them to her. She mumbled something at him and pulled them on. "Are we partying again tonight?" she asked, kissing his scarred cheek as she reached for her phone.

Bradley had apparently enjoyed more than her company last night, if the condom wrapper next to the bed had anything to say for itself. But he knew Saturday night at his fraternity house would offer him some more variety. "Not sure yet," he told her as she headed for his bedroom door. "I'll call you later."

Phoebe waved goodbye and left the door open, and he dropped back onto his bed. He had a good view of the exterior of his white bedroom door, which was covered in multicolored sharpie. It was a collection of girls' names and phone numbers, little love notes, and the occasional cluster of hearts. But right in the middle in bold, black writing was where Phoebe had written her name. As if she had the right of first refusal on his dick.

Bradley's phone was just as bad. His contact list was a collection of first names and phone numbers of girls he could barely remember meeting. And it's not that he wasn't picky, but he just really liked girls. And they all seemed to really like him back. Last weekend he got a blowjob from Janessa and he still ended up with Phoebe in his bed for the night. Being with her was just easy for him. It didn't take any work. When one of them wanted it, the other was there. But the minute he felt like putting in a little effort, he could have pretty much whomever he liked.

So he'd just keep his options open for the evening, feeling like maybe he'd meet someone brand new.

-----------------------------------

You were finally able to admit to yourself that you had a small crush on Jeff. He was obviously cute, and he was studying your major and always made Dean's list. He was friendly and funny, and he never picked on you for hanging out in the library so much. You'd started hoping he would ask you out.

But he was in a fraternity. Major turn off. He invited you to the frat house every weekend, and after weeks of turning him down, you finally agreed to meet him there on Saturday night. His face had lit up with an adorable smile, and he already claimed you as a beer pong partner. But you knew the place would be swarming with girls, ones who were prettier than you, and more outgoing with bigger boobs.

Maybe if he was still paying attention to you when there was a parade of other girls present, you should just ask him out yourself. After studying in the library all day, you packed up your books and headed home to get changed.

Janessa was there, fresh out of the shower and putting makeup on in the kitchen where the light was good. "Are you going to the Beta Gamma house tonight?" you asked her, setting your bag down in the tiny living room of your shared apartment.

"Yes," she replied, swiping on some mascara. "Got my eye on a few of those Beta boys."

You froze and asked, "Which ones?"

She just laughed. "Don't worry, not your buddy Jeff. He's too skinny and blond. I like 'em tall, dark and handsome."

You let out a sigh of relief. No way you could compete with Janessa for Jeff's attention. No way you could compete with her for any guy's attention. Janessa was what every guy would consider hot. She was simply just the definition of the word.

You, on the other hand, were lucky to get called cute. If someone noticed you, it was probably because there was no better option around. But that was fine with you, because when guys ended up with a crush on you, it was because they actually liked you.

"I might ask Jeff out after tonight," you told your roommate, who squealed and started doing your makeup as well.

"You should! Want me to ask one of the other guys if he's interested in you? He's pretty tight with Tyson and Bradley. Maybe we could have a double date!"

"I mean... I guess if it comes up in conversation?" you replied. "But don't embarrass me, please! I'm awkward enough already."

"Hush, you are not awkward. You are adorable. Now stop moving so I can do your eyes."

And this is how you ended up arriving at the packed Beta house where the music was blaring and there were six kegs lined up. Janessa led you inside, and you immediately caught sight of Jeff, hanging out with some of the other guys and drinking from a red solo cup.

"Hey!" he called out to you. "You made it! I'll get you a beer." Jeff made his way over to you, all smiles. You expected to feel that little jolt go through your system when he touched your arm, but you were so distracted, you barely noticed him.

Because Janessa was sidling up between two guys, and the one she had just wrapped her arms around was looking right at you. He was tall with wavy brown hair, and he looked like the kind of guy who would be more than happy to get you into a little trouble.

"You coming?" Jeff asked, reaching for your hand.

"Mmm, oh, yeah. Sorry." It took you a second to realize you were holding hands with him. It honestly didn't feel as special as you thought it would. You wanted to know more about the guy Janessa was with, but you remembered her words from earlier. He must be one of the guys she was interested in.

Well, fuck.

So you focused on Jeff instead. You listened to him ramble about some of your professors, and you got in line for the kegs.

-----------------------------------------------

For a split second, Bradley was tempted to flirt with Janessa again. But then he remembered the terrible blowjob she gave him, and decided he'd rather just find Phoebe later. But then he saw who Janessa walked in with, and he thought maybe there was a third option. You were so cute.

But Jeff walked over to you, acting like you and he were a done deal, and Bradley realized you must have been the girl Jeff knew from class, the one he never stopped talking about.

"Bradley!" Janessa purred as she flung her arms around him. Her outfit was basically nonexistent, and everywhere he tried to put his hands, he seemed to be touching her skin.

"What's up, Janessa?" he mumbled.

But you were looking at him. You made solid eye contact and licked your lips before you wandered off, holding hands with Jeff.

"Hey, who is that girl you come here with?" Bradley asked Janessa, keeping his eyes on you until you rounded the corner and vanished from sight.

"Oh, that's my roommate, Y/N," she replied, kissing his neck. Bradley pulled away from her. He didn't like when anyone touched his scars. Not even Phoebe. "She's super into Jeff. Has he talked about her at all?"

Of course Jeff had talked about you. According to him, you were smart and funny, and now Bradley knew for a fact that you were also pretty hot. But he decided to lie. "Nope. Not that I know of."

Bradley finished his beer and tossed the cup in the trash, heading off in the direction you went with Jeff. Of course Janessa was immediately on Tyson's crotch, but Bradley really didn't give a shit. He finally caught up to you and Jeff outside near the kegs. Jeff was talking nonstop as he pumped the keg of shitty beer and handed you a cup.

"Come on man, get her a good beer from the fridge inside," Bradley interjected, just as you were about to take a sip. "This stuff is shit."

You turned to look at him, lowering the red cup from your pouty lips and raising an eyebrow. "Maybe I prefer this shit," you told him with a smirk. You were wearing some makeup, but less than the other girls. Your jeans were snug, but not tight. Your shirt was just short enough that Bradley could see the inch of skin above your jeans, but only when you shrugged your shoulders.

Fuck. Jeff draped his arm around your shoulders, and for some reason that really irritated Bradley. So he just smirked right back at you and said, "If you prefer that shit, then I can understand why you're hanging out with Jeff tonight instead of me. There's no accounting for taste."

"Hey!" Jeff complained, but Bradley got you to crack a genuine smile. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stop from laughing, but your shoulders shook a little bit with amusement.

You grinned at Bradley and then Jeff as well. "Okay, now I'm a little afraid to admit that I would probably prefer one of the non-shitty beers."

Bradley nodded his head toward the house. "Come with me. I need another one anyway, and then I'll bring you back out to Jeff."

He watched as you extracted yourself from Jeff's arm, which made Bradley smile. He heard you say, "I'll be back," as Bradley guided you inside with his hand gently on your back.

------------------------------------

You didn't know why you ditched Jeff for this guy you had never met before, but you couldn't seem to help yourself. You didn't even know his name, but you let him lead you back inside the Beta fraternity house, his hand sliding ever lower on your back.

It was so loud inside, you could feel your whole body vibrating along with the music that was playing. But he kept you moving at a steady pace toward the kitchen where it was a little quieter.

"Take your pick," he told you when he opened the refrigerator door. Every single shelf was lined with bottles and cans of beer. There were a few bottles of liquor and some different mixers on the door, but you grabbed a bottle of one of your favorite beers and turned to him.

"Thanks, whatever your name is," you said with another smirk.

"You're welcome, Y/N," he replied, taking the bottle from your hand and opening it with a bottle opener he pulled from a drawer.

"How do you know my name?" you asked him, slightly surprised. You were not the type of girl who would normally be found here, or at any Greek house on campus.

He smiled. "You're Janessa's roommate. And Jeff has a crush on you. You're famous by name and reputation."

Your heart was beating faster now as he handed the bottle back to you. His fingertips lingered on yours for a few seconds, and you imagined kissing him. This was the way you expected your body to feel when Jeff touched you, but there was no comparison.

"Are you planning on telling me your name?" you asked him, taking a sip of beer.

"Maybe," he replied, selecting a beer of his own. His voice was deep and raspy, and he had a lot of scars on his face and neck. They looked pretty new, but you couldn't help but find them just as attractive as the rest of him. You wanted to touch that long scar that ran along his neck. You wondered what he would do if you did.

"If you won't tell me, then I'll give you a nickname."

He grinned. "This should be good," he said over the loud music.

You took a long drink of beer and said, "Okay, Beer Boy. How about I head back outside with Jeff where it's quieter? I'll catch you later?"

But he just shook his head. "You want quiet, then you should come upstairs with me. My room is downright peaceful compared to the rest of the house."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You think I was born yesterday, Beer Boy?"

He looked at you, all innocent, wide brown eyes. "No, I would assume you're at least 18 if you're in college. How old are you?"

"I'm 21. But that has nothing to do with the fact that I'm not going upstairs alone with you," you replied.

"We wouldn't be alone," he said, sipping his own beer. "I'm sure Tyson and Janessa are up there doing all sorts of things. But I can take you back outside to your boyfriend if that's what you want."

You rolled your eyes. "Jeff isn't my boyfriend," you told him, raising your voice over the noisy party. You may have been mistaken, but his eyes seemed to light up.

"Music to my ears," he muttered. "Come upstairs with me. I promise I won't touch you unless you want me to."

You almost choked on your beer. "You are seriously cocky, Beer Boy."

"You wanna know my name, don't you?" he asked, and you nodded. "Come upstairs with me and I'll tell you."

You eyed him carefully. "And you won't touch me?"

His eyes drifted over your face and down to your chest. "Sadly, no. I won't."

You couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled out of you. This was really quite fun. He was goofy and flirtatious, but he wasn't creeping you out.

"Okay, but I'm only agreeing so I can learn your name. Then I'm coming right back down here," you told him.

With a smile, he took your hand and led you out of the kitchen and into the distressingly loud living room. Two hallways later, he was leading you up the stairs to a much quieter second floor. You were pleased to find several other people were hanging out up here as well.

"What's your name, Beer Boy?" you asked. He responded by lacing his fingers through yours, and you immediately thought about kissing him again.

He stopped in front of a door covered in writing. "I'm Bradley," he told you, pulling you a little closer with your connected hands.

"Bradley," you repeated. He nodded at you, looking a little apprehensive.

He nudged the door open with his foot, but you didn't move. You just looked at the writing all over his door. Girly handwriting in every color imaginable adorned the white paint. Tessa, Meg, Julie, Kendra, Ebony, Shannon, Luz, Gabby, Willow. The list went on, and so did the phone numbers and scrawled notes.

"Don't look at that. Please," he muttered. You saw his Adam's apple bob against his long scar as he swallowed hard. His eyes seemed to be pleading with you, so you looked away from the door and into his bedroom. It was actually pretty tidy, and it was lit by his desk lamp with a US Navy emblem on the side.

"You said you weren't going to touch me," you told him, and he immediately pulled his hand away from yours.

"I'm sorry," Bradley said right away, looking completely abashed now.

"That's okay," you told him as you walked past him into his room. The music was distant enough that you could use your normal voice up here. "Is it cool if I look around?"

--------------------------------------------

He followed you into his room and watched you examining his things. Every few steps, you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyelashes were long, and he loved the curve of your cheek. He was dying to touch your hair, taste your skin and feel you against him.

Usually he wore his bedroom door like a badge of honor. But when you looked at it, he felt a little embarrassed. Not that you had said anything or looked at him any certain way, but he didn't want you to judge him quite yet. Especially not based on that.

He took a long drink from his bottle of beer, draining it in the process. He was attracted to you. Like all of you. Jeff had been right; you were funny and smart. But Bradley had no expectations that you would feel the same way about him. However, he would keep you up here as long as you would stay, because somehow he knew, in the back recesses of his mind, that you were giving him an important seal of approval.

"You have a lot of Navy stuff," you commented, running your fingers along his dad's dog tags.

He nodded when you looked over your shoulder. "I do. It was my dad's."

Bradley wasn't sure if Phoebe even knew his dad had been in the navy. He didn't know why he was telling you.

"And you have a lot of textbooks," you said as you flipped through his economics notes.

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess that tends to happen when you're a student."

You rolled your eyes. "I just meant that you frat bros don't usually study. I have never once seen you in the library before."

Bradley grinned. "You like to hang out in the library?"

"Yeah. So what?" you asked, seemingly used to getting picked on for it.

"Hey, just because I don't go to the library, that doesn't mean I don't study. I have a 3.85 GPA."

You turned toward him and nodded like you were impressed. "Wow. But you shouldn't say that too loudly, or you may get kicked out of your fraternity."

Bradley shook his head as you turned toward his bed. He was pretty sure he had never had a girl in his room this long with her clothes still on. He was about to suggest grabbing two more beers when your phone rang.

"It's Jeff," you said casually, ignoring the call. "I should probably go back down and find him."

Bradley just watched you tuck your phone back into your jeans pocket. You took the last sip of your beer and headed for the door. You eyed the names written there before turning back toward him with a small smile. "Maybe I'll see you around?" you asked.

"I hope so," he told you as you disappeared into the hallway.

And then you were gone. The apprehension he usually felt was creeping back in now. He wondered what you thought about his scars. He hadn't given them any thought while you'd been with him. He couldn't tell if you were outwardly flirting with him, and he knew there was something between you and Jeff, but Bradley definitely wanted to see you again.

But now he was alone. And he was lonely. So he called Phoebe. Within a few minutes, she was in his room. And after a few minutes more, she was in his bed.

-------------------------------------

Eeek, I hope you like this version of our Bradley! A huge thank you to @mak-32 for helping me with this fic! It's for you, Mak!

PART 2

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@high-bi-imgonnacry

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader #top gun rooster

1K notes · View notes

lucozadehulahoop · 1 year

Text

Star-crossed. Lo'ak x fem!human!reader

This was originally posted on my side blog @thankeywa. It's a brand new blog and tumblr thinks it's a bot so it's not giving it visibility. Please go give it some love, I want all my avatar!related stuff to be on there.

PART 2 HERE PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE

I know that literally nobody asked for this, but I've noticed a disturbing lack of Lo'ak fics out there, so I've decided to give my input. I've had a story in mind for a while now, and I needed to get it out there. It will be a reader insert to make it more accessible, but it's somewhat based around an original f!character, so I apologize for that in advance if it gets too specific.

WARNINGS: Lo'ak is 20 years old in this and so is the reader, I do not write about minor characters. There will be eventual mature themes in this so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK.

For everyone else, if you like my writing, please let me know if you want to be on the tag list for future installments and SEND ME REQUESTS (head canons, imagines, sfw/nsfw, ecc.) ! I love that shit.

words: around 1.200

summary: reader is a human left behind on pandora, she grew up with the remaining humans who'd been aloud to stay on the planet after the war and has been friends with the Sully clan her entire life. She and Lo'ak were best friends until he began to pull away from her in their teen years for seemingly no reason. This story is about them reconnecting on the day of her twentieth birthday, and dealing with the feelings they have for each other and the obstacles that come with them being from two different worlds.

TW for this chapter: angst, smoking (don't do it, ever), brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of war and death, brief mention of child birth, reader can breathe on pandora.

Y/n looked at the 'birthday cake' made out of cookie rations that Norm and Max had made for her. No matter how many years would pass, her dads always knew how to get creative.

"I'm twenty years old, you guys don't have to keep throwing me a birthday party." She reprimanded them softly, though her heart was filled with joy. Y/n was so thankful to have people in her life who cared enough to make her day special every single year.

"Considering you spent most of your early existence tied to test tubes to stay alive, we're merely celebrating the scientific marvel your continued survival has been." Norm joked, raising a beer, and y/n shoved him, before blowing out the single candle that had been meticulously re-used each year. It was a wonder how there was any wax still left on it.

"What did the birthday girl wish for?" Max asked, reaching for a dried-up cookie and cringing slightly at the taste as he chewed on it slowly. "The whole point of a birthday wish is to keep it to myself... or it won't come true. Honestly, I question your two's knowledge of Earth's traditions." y/n shook her head, before taking a celebratory sip of alcohol.

Norm and Max left eventually, back to the main base. They were more than capable of piloting a helicopter those days, and y/n was all grown up. More than capable of living by herself. What once had been an avatar lab, smack dab in the middle of the forests of Pandora, had been converted into her home. Pandora's rapidly repopulating fauna had surprisingly left her residence alone, well... mostly. There were still some creatures who couldn't help but keep themselves away. And by creatures, she meant Spider. Y/n was also friends with actual people like Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, and... Lo'ak. Truth be told, she didn't know whether or not she and Lo'ak were even friends anymore. They'd been thick as thieves for as long as she could remember, always getting him out of trouble and fixing him up after a scuffle with his siblings. But then, around her sixteenth birthday, he'd started pulling away, and y/n had never understood why. They'd had a big fight about it, bottom line, he hadn't wanted to be around her anymore and y/n had to accept it.

"Open up! It's fucking freezing out here!" Came Spider's loud voice followed by an incessant banging on the door that immediately pulled y/n out of her reverie. "Alright, alright..." she laughed a little as she went to let them all inside. The Sullys were always insisting on spending birthdays together, even though some of them were now getting too big to even fit inside her 'home'. Neteyam had to walk around with his back bent forward, and Kiri knocked over quite a few things before they made it to y/n's main living space, which was more or less Na've-proof. "Happy birthday!" Tuk hugged her and y/n struggled not to feel crushed by the embrace. Even the littlest Sully was now nearly as tall as her.

Y/n let them all inside, already giving them dirty looks at the sight of gifts. "I told you guys not to..."

She stayed on the doorstep a little longer, gazing out into the night, desperately hoping one last uninvited guest would turn up. She felt Neteyam's hand on her shoulder. "He's not coming. I tried to talk to him but he was being a skxawng as usual..." Y/n blushed, not really wanting Neteyam to know she was pining for his younger brother. "Oh, right! I was—just checking you were all here..." she closed the door and they both went back to join the others.

___

"Alright come on, your mom is going to kill me if you get back late and I don't have enough space in here for all of you. Spider would have to sleep outside." Y/n teased, trying to let Tuk understand it was time to go. "Hey!" Spider protested at her lighthearted jab, but knew it was time for them to get going. Nobody wanted to get on Neytiri's bad side. Y/n hugged them all goodbye and thanked them for the presents: Tuk had made her a lovely drawing, and the others had collectively made her a rather beautiful necklace, which she immediately wore. Y/n waited on her doorstep till she could no longer hear the sounds of her friends chatting, and then proceeded to do two incredibly dangerous things: she sat outside of the protection of her bunker, all alone in the cold Pandora night air, and lit up a cigarette.

She'd discovered a terrifyingly endless supply of cigarette cartoons back at the base almost a year prior, and as soon as she'd tried her first one, she'd gotten addicted. Y/n hadn't told Norm or Max, of course, as it would have broken their hearts, especially because of how fragile she was. Y/n's mother had gone into labor in the aftermath of the battle for Pandora between the Na'vi and the Sky people. The soldier had lost her life giving birth, but her baby had survived, taking her first breath in the inhospitable Pandora air. Norm was convinced Eywa herself had kept her alive, had given her the ability to take in the air that hadn't previously failed to kill any other human. Sure, it had come at the price of being particularly fragile her entire life. And how was y/n repaying that gift? By cutting her miraculous existence short more and more each day. Thankfully, it was a while since she'd been used as a test rat, or had check ups of any sort. As far as the Sullys were concerned... they were way better off not even knowing what she was doing to herself.

A sudden rustling in the trees instantly made y/n alert and she didn't waste any time getting back inside. She showered, and shamefully hid her smokes somewhere her dads or the Sullys wouldn't look. When she had nothing else left to do, y/n forced herself to crawl into bed, placing a hand over her necklace. Her wish to see Lo'ak hadn't come true in the end, and while not surprising, it still hurt like hell.

"A pack of viperwolves? Seriously, Lo'ak?" Y/n groaned in frustration as she cleared her table for her best friend to lie on.

"I thought I could take them." He hissed as she doused him with disinfectant. "Yeah, well, you know human medical treatment hurts like a bitch, so it's either my way, or you're going to have to fess up to your parents about what you did." Y/n tried to sound cold, but she'd always been too soft on him.

When they were younger, and Lo'ak still hadn't grown to be double her size, they would often fall asleep together in her bed. "You don't have to keep doing this shit to prove something, you know?" She whispered to him one night, turning over to look at him and gently touch his face. "Your parents love you. And so do Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk and Spider. Lo'ak, I— we— don't want to lose you."

Y/n was almost asleep when a loud 'thud' coming from outside woke her. Something was moving on her roof, or rather, someone... Y/n didn't show whether she was dreaming or not as she looked out the window and locked eyes with Lo'ak, because the second she did, he seemed to slide off the top of her bucker, falling down into the grass below with a loud groan.

He'd probably just woken up half of the animals on Pandora.

1K notes · View notes

tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

Text

A Little Gosling (Part 2) - Goose

Pairing: Goose / Mitchell! Fem! OC | Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy, Referenced Child Birth, Hospitals, Arguing; Female Reader but no use of Y/N or descriptions beyond being Maverick's sister

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Maverick finds out about the little gosling.

A.N. This is Part 2 of A Little Gosling. Here's Part 1 if you missed it.

Master List

About a week passed since Goose and Maverick returned to California and it was time to discuss the elephant in the room.

Or rather, the gosling in the room.

You and Goose were both stressed about it, especially because Maverick just seemed to be so focused on the Top Gun trophy. Goose was worried about throwing Maverick off with the news, indirectly costing them the Top Gun trophy. And then Maverick would be even more pissed with him.

But your baby bump got more noticeable every single day, so there wasn’t much of a choice anymore.

You made sure to make Maverick’s favorite meal and Goose picked up Maverick’s favorite brand of beer from the store just to sweeten him up. And if Maverick thought that something was amiss when he sat down for dinner, he didn’t mention it.

Dinner was completely normal. Maverick and Goose talked about their day at Top Gun. You asked a question here or there. Goose rested his hand on your thigh and occasionally reached up to brush against your baby bump. You were wearing an oversized tee shirt that hide your well enough, but you were quite sure that Maverick was starting to notice you weight gain.

Yesterday, he asked you if you needed to borrow any of his looser shirts for the day, which was the nicest way possible of a brother telling his sister that she looked fat. And if it wasn’t for the absolute walloping that you gave him when you were kids after he called you fat, he probably would have worded it differently.

And so, there was no other option but to tell him about the little gosling. Today.

“Pete,” you called, causing Maverick to look up from his plate, “I, uh, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay, what?” Maverick asked calmly.

“Well,” you continued, sharing a look with Goose, “actually, we have something to tell you.”

“We?” Maverick repeated, frowning slightly. “We who?”

Subtly reaching over, Goose grabbed your hand and then placed your joined hands on the table to wait for Maverick’s reaction. Of course, instead of saying anything like a normal human being, Maverick just stared at your hands with a completely ashen expression. Leaning forward, you lowered your voice to the tone that you used to calm down one of your students.

“Pete? Are you okay?”

“You two are . . .” Maverick trailed off, gesturing between you and Goose. “You guys are . . .” After another breath of silence, Maverick’s expression hardened. He glared over at Goose as his tone reeked of barely contained anger. “Finish the sentence. You two are . . .”

“Together,” you stated.

“Engaged,” Goose replied at the same time.

And, well, that got everything off on the wrong foot.

“Engaged!?” Maverick exclaimed, getting to his feet. “You two are engaged!? How—don’t you have to be dating first before you get engaged?”

“We were,” you explained softly, sharing a look with Goose.

“How long?” Maverick demanded with narrowed eyes. He turned to glare at Goose in particular, who was starting to sweat through his undershirt. “How long were you hiding this from me?”

“Fourteen months,” Goose answered honestly.

“You two dated for fourteen months and you never told me!?” Maverick snapped, waving his hand to the side. Pointing a finger angrily over at Goose, Maverick raised his voice. “You dated my baby sister for fourteen months!? And now you proposed to her and you didn’t even tell me!?”

“Pete—” you tried.

“—I’ll get to you next,” Maverick interjected before turning back to Goose. “You snuck around with my baby sister and lied to me face about it!?”

“Mav, I know that you want to punch me in the face right now,” Goose started off diplomatically. “And I probably deserve it. And we definitely should have told you before this point, but . . . we are together and we are engaged and I love her more than anyone else in the world. Believe me, if you think that I’m not treating her well or that I don’t deserve her, I’ll be the first to agree with you.”

“Goose,” you admonished him, but Goose assured you that he had it.

“Well, where’s the ring?” Maverick demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

You pulled off the chain around your neck and slipped your engagement ring onto your finger. Holding it out to Maverick, you held your breath a bit to try and control your anxiety. Maverick checked your finger before straightening up.

“Well, why are you getting married? Why the rush? You’re not even two years out of college. Why the hell are you getting married?” Maverick practically demanded from you. “I mean, the only reason that I can think of for rushing into this would be because you got knocked up and I know that you two aren’t stupid enough to do that.”

“Excuse me?” you huffed, glaring up at your older brother.

“What?” Maverick scoffed right back.

“Honey, I don’t think—” Goose tried to diffuse the situation but you were already pissed.

“—You’re no saint yourself, Peter Michael Mitchell,” you snapped, ignoring your fiancé. Standing up from the table, you turned to glare at your brother. “And for the record, I would marry Goose for any reason under the sun. Even if it pisses you off, I would do it because I love him.”

“You’ll love him in two years when you have more time to think through this whole marriage thing,” Maverick argued back, sounding like a disappointed dad. “I mean, what are you doing!? What the hell are you thinking!? You’re too young to get married! You should only get married if you’re sure that you want to spend the rest of your lives together.”

“And what if we do?” you countered, glaring right back at Maverick.

“Then I would say that you’re delusional!”

“I’m not delusional! I’m pregnant, asshole!” you shouted angrily.

And just like that, you realized why Goose probably wanted you to calm down. Mitchells had a tendency to say stupid shit when they were frustrated. And well, you had intended to be more delicate with that announcement, but Maverick always knew how to push your buttons. Biting your lip, you waited for Hurricane Maverick to reach the shores.

“You’re pregnant?” Maverick repeated, his voice deadly quiet. You didn’t respond. Rounding on Goose, Maverick’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “You knocked up my sister!?”

Goose, a man who knew when he was in a dangerous situation, quickly bolted from the table.

Ice looked up from the TV, frowning when he heard a lot of yelling from outside. Slider got up from his spot on the couch and glanced out the window in time to see Goose sprinting by with Maverick right on his tail. Goose had much longer legs but Maverick was quick and he looked like a big cat ready to pounce on his prey.

“Hey, Ice,” Slider called, a little confused about what he was seeing.

“What?”

“Maverick looks like he’s going to kill Goose,” Slider replied conversationally.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Slider spotted you hurrying after Maverick and Goose, yelling for your brother. “But Maverick’s sister is involved.”

Ice and Slider headed outside just in time to see Maverick dive for Goose’s legs to drag him to the ground. Sharing a confused and concerned look, Ice and Slider hurried over to them as you started yelling for Maverick to get off of Goose.

“Pete! Stop it! Get off of him!”

“How could you do that to my sister!?” Maverick yelled at Goose.

“Pete!”

“What the fuck is going on!?” Ice shouted over the chaos. “Get off of him, Maverick. Jesus Christ.”

Ice and Slider managed to pull a still feral Maverick off of Goose with some teamwork. Goose sat up from the ground, unharmed, but clearly anxious about the whole situation. You hurried to his side and wrapped your arms around him, assessing him for any injuries.

“Are you okay?” you asked Goose, cupping his cheeks with your hands.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he breathed out, nodding slowly. “I don’t think that he was going to hurt me.”

“What the hell is going on!?” Ice yelled, annoyed. He wrapped an arm around Maverick to prevent him from lunging forward.

“Goose knocked up my sister!” Maverick shouted out into the universe.

“Oh shit,” Slider murmured, glancing between Goose, you, and Maverick. “Well, that really does explain this whole thing.”

“Brings new meaning to ‘Mother Goose,’ eh?” Ice joked, though he looked nervous for Goose.

“Pete!” you snapped at your brother. “You don’t get to just chase after him because you’re mad! That’s not how this works!”

“He knocked you up! If he was any other guy on the planet, I wouldn’t have given him a head start!”

“Stop acting like I’m helpless or that he somehow took advantage of me!” you shouted indignantly. “Ever since we were kids, you thought that you needed to protect me. And while I appreciate that, I’m an adult now and I can make my own decisions. And I decided to marry Goose and I decided to have this baby with him, so you’re just going to have to live with that even if you don’t like it!”

“Honey,” Goose called to you, getting to his feet. “I’m okay. He has a right to be pissed at me.”

“But he doesn’t have a right to attack you,” you insisted to Goose.

“No, but . . .” Goose trailed off, turning back to Maverick. He seemed to think something over in his head before straightening up. “If I give you a free slap, can we call it even and move on, Mav?”

“Goose!” you admonished.

“Deal,” Maverick immediately agreed.

“You’re not hitting him!”

“It was his idea!” Maverick yelled back.

“Well, it’s a stupid idea!”

“I’ll be fine,” Goose assured you, squeezing your hand supportively. “I’ll take care of this. You head inside and relax. This kind of stress isn’t good for the baby. And you shouldn’t be out in the heat like this for too long.”

“I’m not letting him hit you!”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Just trust me, okay?” Goose promised you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be fine. We just have to . . . I owe him something.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Slider promised, causing you to turn. “Just one slap. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more,” Maverick agreed seriously.

“I’ll be fine,” Goose repeated once again. “Just head inside, okay?”

“I still don’t like this,” you sighed, blinking up at Goose.

“I know, that’s why you should just go lay down for a bit. We’ll handle it,” Goose assured you.

You sighed in response, causing Goose to press a peck to your lips. It perhaps wasn’t the best idea when it came to keeping Maverick happy, but if it reassured you that he had the situation under control, then he would have done it every single time. Goose turned back to Maverick as Ice escorted you back to the house and into the air conditioning.

Slider stepped back and let Maverick approach Goose. Letting out a sigh, Goose bent down a bit and left his cheek completely open for Maverick to smack it. With a clear expression of frustration, Maverick waited until you were back inside before turning for Goose. Raising his hand, Maverick let out a breath through his nose.

“For the record, I understand where you’re coming from,” Goose stated, staring up at Maverick. “She’s your little sister and I definitely crossed a line in our friendship and I’m sorry for that. I just . . . I got wrapped up in it and I was worried that if we told you then she would get spooked and leave me and I love her to death, Mav. I’d take a bullet for her without a thought. Her and the baby.”

“Goose,” Maverick warned, his anger wavering.

“I know that you’re pissed and you have more than every right to be pissed. And hell, if I was any other guy in the world who knocked her up, I probably would have helped you beat his ass. But it was me and I’m trying to take responsibility for my actions. So, I’m going to buy her a house after we finish up here. Somewhere with a nice yard for the baby and a good school system.”

“Goose, shut up.”

“And I would have married her regardless. The baby just sped everything up. I bought the ring two months into our relationship because I was in love with her and I couldn’t picture any other girl in the world. And I know that this looks insanely bad, which is why I have every intention of marrying her the second that we’re finished up here. I’ll take care of her and the baby and this whole situation.”

Maverick’s hand wavered and Goose could see the anger fading from his eyes.

“And if this proves to you how serious that I am about seeing this through, of taking care of her and the baby, then I accept it. I’ll happily take a thousand slaps for her and our baby. And I mean that, Mav. I promise, I swear on my life, that I will take care of them.”

“Stop making it difficult to hate you!” Maverick yelled back, lowering his hand back to his side.

“I’m sorry, Mav!”

“Stop sounding sincere!”

“I can’t stop that!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Slider muttered, shaking his head at them.

“If you were any other moron on the planet, I would have knocked your lights out by now,” Maverick groaned, shaking his head.

He seemed to contemplate the situation more before turning back to Goose. Raising a finger, Maverick poked it out in Goose’s direction with a sharp look.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

“I’d help you do it,” Goose promised, causing Maverick to sigh.

“Stop being nice about this!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Goose,” Maverick snapped, pulling Goose up to his full height. Composing himself and letting his anger slide away, Maverick met Goose’s gaze. “I’m still mad.”

“I know you are.”

“But I’m not going to hit you,” Maverick sighed, causing Goose to hide a smile.

“If that’s what makes you feel better.”

“But,” Maverick warned Goose, “I am godfather to this kid.”

“Of course. Who else would we pick?” Goose asked, shrugging his shoulders. “Actually, if the baby’s a boy, we were going to make his middle name ‘Peter’ after you.”

“Really?” Maverick breathed out before shaking his head. “Stop, I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

“I know,” Goose replied, pulling Maverick into a hug. “I know you are.”

“Well, that was anti-climactic,” Slider muttered under his breath.

~~~~~

A little over five months later, the little gosling was finally born.

After twenty-two agonizing hours of labor, a very stubborn and very loud Bradley Peter Bradshaw was born healthy in San Diego on a bright Friday morning. You were exhausted and Goose had gone a little green during the actual delivery part even though you told him not to look.

But Bradley was finally here and he was healthy with ten fingers and ten toes and that was all that mattered. You laid back on your pillows, cradling your son as he slowly suckled. Goose observed Bradley from his place beside you and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. You smiled over at him before turning back to Bradley.

“Honey?” Goose called after a moment.

“Yeah, Goosie?”

“If you never want another baby . . . I’ll understand completely.”

You managed a tired laugh and cuddled up against your husband. He pressed a thankful kiss to your head before the two of you turned back to Bradley. Though his eyes remained closed, you were certain that he had his dad’s pair of big brown eyes that were certainly going to melt your heart the second that you finally saw them.

“I’m serious. You want anything, you let me know. Now, tomorrow, any day, just tell me and I’ll get it for you. After that whole . . .” Goose trailed off, not really sure how to explain what he saw in any way that benefited your relationship, “you get anything that you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you murmured, brushing back Bradley’s hair. Resting your head against Goose’s own, you smiled softly. “I’m just happy that he’s finally here.”

“He took his sweet time,” Goose agreed, adjusting the blanket wrapped around Bradley.

“It was like he was sitting on a perch, just waiting for the perfect moment to arrive,” you sighed, shaking your head.

Bradley just didn’t want to come out or cooperate with the doctors. Not until he was certain that he made his mom scream ‘get the hell out of me’ at least ten times. And his dad cry at how much pain he put his mom through.

“If only that perfect moment was twenty hours earlier.”

“I’m sure you’ll never let him forget that,” Goose mused, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Oh, absolutely not,” you agreed, smiling softly. You leaned back as Bradley released and adjusted your hospital gown. “But he’s cute, so we’ll let it slide for now.”

As you cleaned up and Goose carefully burped him, there was a knock on the door. Maverick stuck his head inside the recovery room, carrying a stuffed rooster and a bunch of balloons with him. He carefully shut the door behind him and made his way over to Goose.

“Holy hell, he’s actually here,” Maverick whispered, staring at Bradley in awe.

“Yeah, he’s here,” Goose breathed out, carefully cradling Bradley in his arms. Glancing down at the stuffed animal that Maverick had with him, Goose raised an eyebrow. “Why are you holding a chicken? Did you smack your head into the pavement on your way here?”

“The gift shop didn’t have a goose,” Maverick explained, setting the stuffed animal on the table. “So, I got the next best bird that I could find.”

Maverick walked over to you to check up on you and how you were doing. You assured him that you were fine and that he honestly probably didn’t want to know any details before you urged him to go and meet his nephew and godson. Standing beside Goose, Maverick smiled as he took in the sight of the little gosling.

“He seems to look more like a Bradshaw, but he’s going to take after his uncle,” Maverick insisted with a smirk. “Look at that expression. That has Mitchell mischief written all over it.”

“No,” you insisted seriously, glaring at your brother, “he’s going to be a little angel.”

“Of course, he is, honey,” Goose spoke up with a wide smile. He then quickly turned to speak to Maverick out of the corner of his mouth, “Don’t test her or piss her off right now. Or in the next year, actually. She will strangle you and not even blink and then I’m going to have to hide your body and I’d really prefer avoiding that, Mav.”

“Goosie, honey, I’m tired not deaf,” you stated softly before turning back to your brother. “But the threat stands, Pete. You corrupt my son and I will hurt you.”

“Well, can I at least hold him before you do that?” Maverick huffed.

With some Mother Goose oversight, Maverick held Bradley in his arms for the first time ever. Smiling down at his nephew and godson, Maverick lightly bounced Bradley to keep him settled and quiet. Adjusting the little hat on his head, Maverick memorized the curves and slopes of Bradley’s still red and squished face.

“Hey there, Brad. I’m your Uncle Mav.” Glancing up to see Goose tending to you, Maverick smiled softly at the sight. “We’re a little crazy in this family. But we love each other. And we’re so glad that you’re here.” Pausing for a moment, Maverick decided to add, “I’ll teach you how to fight. No offense to your parents, but they set you up for a lot of bad jokes with the whole double Brad name.”

“I can hear you, Pete,” you deadpanned, glaring over at your brother.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Maverick whispered to Bradley.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun #top gun 1986 #nick goose bradshaw x reader #nick bradshaw x you #nick bradshaw x reader #nick bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw x you #top gun goose #pete maverick mitchell #mitchell reader #goose x reader #goose x you

915 notes · View notes

treedaddymcpuffpuff · 1 month

Text

🫧 ━━ JOHNNY UTAH X CHUBBY F READER IMAGINE𓈒

𓈒part I 𓈒cheeky Johnny

𓈒inspo: @tedsbogusworld’s 🤖

━━ you are bodhi’s little sister

━━ just trying to make it through college while working part-time at the aquarium

━━ your parents aren’t around anymore, so you’ve been taking care of your older brother (paying the bills and rent with tuition money, stocking the fridge, dragging him in from the yard where he’s passed out in a puddle of beer and vomit in the cool waking sunset)

━━ your big brother throws the wildest parties ; you avoid them at all costs, shut yourself in your room, hide away at the beach, stay late at work. it’s just not your scene

━━ plus, his friends aren’t nice, especially not when they’ve been drinking, and being surrounded by tall, athletic bodies in tight swimsuits is detrimental to your baggy clothed, short, chubby self esteem

one night, you get home super late, but the party is still raging. Spilled cans of liquor on your floor, an unattended bonfire that you have to put out with the hose - we’re in a drought for chist’s sake, have some common decency, bodhi.

bodhi catches you in the kitchen, much to your scowling dismay, and has someone he wants you to meet. you’re really not in the mood for his antics tonight - he’s so drunk and high he can barely keep two feet parallel with the ground - so you basically tell him to fuck off

but, bodhi is super bad at respecting boundaries. it inflates when he’s under influence. he’s got you face to face with a brand new partygoer before you have a chance to run

“hey.” big white grin, tawny skin, heavy dark eyes. you have to crane your neck to look at his face.

the music is almost too loud for you to catch bodhi’s next infuriating line. “told ya she was cute, johnny. she’s all yours.”

you basically freak out on him, shove his shoulder and start yelling and cursing and drawing attention.

you’ve spent years taking care of him, not asking for a cent from his party fund, putting up with his bullshit, and you’re so fucking tired of him making fun of you just because you’re not a skinny surfing meat head. after you rip him a new asshole, you storm off.

you could go to your room, but that would mean shouldering through a crowd, so you opt for a long walk on the pier instead.

as you’re watching the dark ocean waves crash and spray against support beams, you feel a hand on your shoulder. you turn around, ready to fight, but it’s just bodhi’s new friend.

lowering your fist and replacing it with a scowl, you turn back around to face the open sea and ignore mr. tall dark and handsome.

“hey.” he leans on the railing beside you, accidentally scrapes his forearm on a barnacle and starts bleeding. “ah, fuck.”

“you’ve never been to a beach town, huh?” his arm is in your hand and you’re using your old tshirt to wipe the trickling red from his skin.

he smiles at you, boyishly, gives this coy bat of thick lashes that makes your tummy uneasy. you hope he doesn’t notice the abrupt way you let his arm flop. little tickly crabs crawl over your skin as you turn away.

“got a bandaid?”

“you’ll live.”

“ouch. hey, I think we got off on the wrong foot. i’m johnny, just moved here.”

“hullo, johnny just moved here, i’m not interested in company.”

he seems way too amused by your venom, lets loose a little chuckle. “you’re not very friendly, are you?”

“not to bodhi’s cult, no.”

“man, what is your problem?” he shakes his head and kicks dried salt. “you have the hots for me or something?”

stiffened shoulders, shrinking posture, eyes unable to hold his own. it’s all the info he needs. he gets a big grin that makes you want to jump right off the pier and let the angry water swallow you up.

“oh, yeah?” he tugs his bottom lip into the toothy smile, nudges your shoulder. “listen, just cuz i’m pretty doesn’t mean i’m a dickwad.”

“yeah, it does.” you think you’re insulting him, but really what you’ve just done is confirmed that you do think he’s pretty - the quiet, thick quiver in your voice doesn’t help your case.

“thanks, sweetheart.”

now you have a better idea - push him off the pier. instead, you walk away.

“oh, she’s adorable.”

#Idk what this is #Johnny Utah #second part coming soon yall #x chubby reader #chubby reader #x plus sized reader #plus size reader #point break #keanuverse

121 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 7 months

Text

Labor of love

I was very interested to see what S told Mark Gillespie on the last episode of the latter's WhiskyCast podcast, @bat-cat-reader immediately shared with us.

It was a most instructive 35 minutes. I listened to all of it, because I wanted to also hear Gillespie's tasting notes forThe Sassenach. And I regret nothing: once you get past the traditional (and a bit obnoxious) 'why The Sassenach?' question, you're in for some interesting news.

You can listen to it here, by the way:

Before anything, who is Mark Gillespie?

One of the most respected professionals in the very small world of alcohol specialized podcasters, with a 37 years work experience in media and broadcasting, spanning household names such as CNN, Bloomberg, Wall Street Journal, Gallup and MSNBC. But also, and this I found very interesting, given the current context, the owner of CaskMedia, a firm specialized not only in media production, but also marketing and PR.

The podcast was recorded at The Metropolitan Club's library, moments before the Keepers of the Quaich dinner, where S was a keynote speaker. So not 'just there for the Haggis Ceremony ' - a 'guest of honor' is never invited just for the show, people should have known better, eh?

S's 7 minutes interview starts at the 09:32 mark. Comments in brackets are mine.

Gillespie surely doesn't like to beat around the bush and after the customary niceties, asks a million-dollar question:

MG: 'I have to ask: did you have the troubles (problems?) in Germany straightened up?'

SH: ' Ha, ha, ha [not an organic giggle, but hey - gotta do what you gotta do, eh?]. Well, I am not entirely sure I should talk about it [speaks very quickly and through his teeth - visibly annoyed/nervous; not entirely sure I got it all correctly, so feel free to amend in comments], ah... ummm... not as yet... not as yet...ummm...we did fall into an issue with the name Sassenach, which was similar to a big brand in the US... ah!... in Germany, sorry... of a beer brand... I...I personally don't see the similarity [neither do I, S...neither do I], but I am sure once people taste our whisky, they'll know what it is, whatever the name is on it.'

Yes, this interview was probably rehearsed. Yes, Gillespie might have sent the questions to S/his people in advance for reviewing. No, he could not speak about a legally complicated situation before the final settlement with that Schoppingen beer brewer (penalties are probably still to be fixed and paid, but I will check that, so don't take my word for Gospel truth, yet). I will write separately about this whole thing, because I still think that was a very questionable decision of the EUIPO. Not because it royally pisses me off (so fucking unfair!), but because I really fail to see the proper legal reasoning and basis for it. His answer was perfect, under the circumstances. Absolutely perfect.

Anyways, FWIW, it would seem some sort of solution has already been found ('whatever the name is on it') and that most probably would be to rebrand it. And sell it on the German/EU market under a new name.

Lallybroch (https://trademarks.justia.com/981/67/lallybroch-98167525.html), perhaps? Time will tell, but that could explain this recent trademark application I didn't have time to properly look into, yet:

Further ahead (and fast forward through the cask version release, these things bore me to death), we land on another (as yet) unexploded ordnance:

MG: 'I have to mention your show MIK that you do with Graham McTavish, you visited a bunch of distilleries during that one... any visit in particular stands out?'

Now I am not very sure if that question was the best possible one, since that SAG-AFTRA strike is still an ongoing situation. And his answer was quite clever, changing the focus on their visit to Laphroaig's distillery on Islay and waxing lyrical about the casks, the peat, the landscape, etc. But other than a perfunctory and logical 'we', I heard absolutely nothing about McTavish, and it could have been so damn easy to further change the subject and mention his bourbon, with a few kind words. Therefore, I think things are pretty obviously not exactly on the sunny side, between the two. And I guess we all know why.

To end this long post on a cheerful note, I almost forgot to mention something very important. Answering a listener's question about Sassenach not being available in Rhode Island/part of New Jersey, S said something very interesting: 'obviously you can get it online, (...) we've just signed a deal with Southern Glazer's, so we're rolling it out. It is a limited batch, so you know, every year we do do a release and it is very limited, so it does tend to sell out pretty quick. But yes, it is available (...), but obviously you're not gonna see it in every bar, restaurant or retailer, because we just don't have enough of it. But online you can get it and great delivery service, it's very quick.'

I am taking two things home from this last answer: demand exceeds supply, which is both a blessing (solid yield, room for expansion) and a curse (lackadaisical market presence). On short to mid term, distribution will concentrate on the online market, with the help of Southern Glazer's superb infrastructure.

Remember the older guy he had lunch with in MIA, in May? You should, if you didn't focus on Mordor's inept babble about shirts, ballerinas and the like. That guy was instrumental into arranging the deal with Southern Glazer's. Just the biggest wine and spirits distributor on the US market, mind you.

Don't believe me? Check this out:

That company was founded in Florida. Its HQ is still in MIA. He didn't go there because he was looking for ballerinas at his birthday dinner. He went there because when these people are available to meet you, well: you leave everything aside and you damn GO.

Now who the hell is writing fanfiction, eh? You really should be ashamed, madam.

I rest my case.

#BoozeWars

176 notes · View notes

vampiretendencies · 1 year

Text

IDCNTLIKEDARKNESS MILESTONE EVENT ★

request; hiii babes this my first time ever requesting anything for anyone but could you do a jj maybank headcannon of dating him (i love those) or a blurb of when he comes back from surfing and cuddles the reader? i love ya!

warnings; fluff, lowercase intended, suggestive, these are just few instances but if anyone wants more just send in a concept and i’ll elaborate

pairings; jj maybank x reader

authors note; sorry ab the different format, this request was two in one as i made it the way, and i already used the ask. keep the requests coming for this event.

masterlist — jj maybank masterlist — milestone masterlist

there isn't going to be one fucking moment that you're alone. expect him to be stalking over your shoulder with every move you make. because even being next to you is not enough, he wants to shiver whilst you breathe against his flesh, he craves to breathe in your air; to share oxygen, inject you into his viens, and drink you in like his favorite brand of beer. physical touch is an absolute given when it comes to jj maybank. always something about "c'mere, can't feel you baby."

if you are beside him and he's smoking a blunt, it is definite he's going to shotgun. something so freeing about the milky smoke disappearing to the back of your throat had him feral at a moment's glance. the smoke doing everything to your insides that he couldn't in that second; engulfing your lungs and filling them up rapidly and wondrously. the breathless mouths not even kissing, but breathing loving air into the others, babbling on about how much either of you besot the other. but it was then that you'd cough, and he'd counteract your coughs by smothering you in a wet kiss. "just a little wider pretty girl." "like this?" "s'fuckin perfect, baby."

in public, there should be absolutely no reason as to why he can't touch you; whenever, however. because, to jj if he could admire you in private, he should be able to do it in public too. if he decided to take you out to dinner, there are no separate chairs or booths you will be sat on his lap, always squirming against his thigh. or waiting in line to checkout at the grocery store, he will snake his arms around your waist from behind, hands roaming beneath your shirt (his shirt) to squeeze at your hips assuring you that he was ready to fucking go because he wasn't getting enough attention. "when we get home i better be getting so much lovin' after waiting in this line." "we'll see." "we'll see?!"

though he has a hard time expressing his feelings, because his father wasn't near the example he should've been, he will try and piece together words on a little sticky note and give it to you in the form of a love letter. but somehow, they began to turn into silly messages. he also appreciates the simple affirmations of being told 'i'm proud of you', growing up he never got that. and, seeing as you are his first and only comfort you are the only person he wants it from. he takes pride in the day that he sees his dad again, being able to shove his sacred relationship in his face and say 'i'm glad you left, i found someone to fill the void.' the note read 'thank you for teaching me how to love', with a sloppy heart next to it. that one wasn't silly, but it made your eyes gloss over and water like hell.

if you are gone, whether that be hanging out with friends (though he tended to argue that he was the only friend you needed) he does everything he possibly can to be aware of your safety and he doesn't care about what you wear. he looks forward to the little shows you give him, showing off your outfit, and the shows he gives you before you leave. just a little something to remember what you'll come home to. though the sunken teeth marks on your neck never let you forget. "give em' hell for me alright, baby?" "so be like you?" (a menace) "exactly."

you are his lock screen, home screen, and there is photo of you by his bedside, as well as a framed lipstick stain that you purposefully kissed onto a napkin after he's seen you blotting your lips. there are no exceptions. the man is obsessed, he's addicted in all the worst ways, and anything that reminds him of you, he's bringing it home. or anything that you previously conversed about he retains that information for later purchases. he's going to spoil his little baby, even if he has one dollar to his name. "there's never gonna' be another after me." "how are you so sure?" you'd tease. "cause' you've been with me this long so i must be doing something fuckin' right."

every morning, even if he has to work early or not, he's waking up an hour beforehand to shower with you and that's saying something because nothing came before his sleep, but you did. he's not starting his day without that achingly amorous shower and giving you all the affection, he can muster for that morning, knowing he won't touch your sweet skin until later. his hands are touching each and every crevice they can reach, and his mouth is kissing every inch of flesh they desire. "need to feel you one more time before i go." "yeah?" "'course, need to feel you all the time baby."

599 notes · View notes

beautifulcrayola · 10 months

Text

Praise

This is dedicated to the fantastic, incomparable @gretavanlace

3 things: I am very very bad at using Tumblr on desktop, you will have to forgive me for the kinks until I get this figured out. 2. THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD. I told Lace it would be out tonight and I’m trying to make good on my promise. 3. I have like 7 other things up my sleeves with the other boys so please please please let me know if you enjoy this. Ok, I love ya, enjoy!

Warnings: SMIUT (18+, minors DNI), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it), nipple play (very briefly) cunninlingus. (I feel I'm missing a few things cause I forgot what wrote already, but it’s dirty, so mind ya eyes)

“All I’m saying is if you throw her over your shoulder and take her upstairs, she’ll do whatever you want her to do,” Sam grabs the beer to tip it up to his mouth as Danny grabs it to put it back down.

“Think you’ve had enough, kid.”

Sam immediately turns to you and Jake to pout, “Jake, tell him give it back.” Jake chuckles lowly at his little brother, slurring his words and pitching a fit like a 2 year old.

“No, no, little brother, I think Danny may have a point.” Jake grabs the glass from in front of him and pushes it towards you, just far enough out of Sam’s reach.

Sam slumps his shoulders and leans back into the booth. Danny turns to him and chuckles slightly, “We have to go anyways, dumbass over here broke one of the brand new bass amps and his punishment tomorrow is getting up bright and early to fix it.” Sam tries to protest, saying he’s fine and can go another round or two, but the alcohol has settled quickly, his eyes drooping as he hiccups.

Danny rolls his eyes as he settles back on you and Jake, “You need to start paying me to take care of him or I’ll make Josh do it from now on.”

Jake groans, “no, I’ll cough up the money as long as I don’t have to hear Josh bitch and moan about how San cockblocks him constantly.”

“I am not a cockblock,” Sam mumbles out, half asleep and somehow still coherent. Jake and Danny laugh out loud, knowing all too well that this was untrue. They’ve all fallen victim to Sam’s drunk antics more than enough times to know cockblocking was one of the things Sam truly excelled at.

Danny grabs the younger boy by the arm, pulling him out of the booth and hoisting him up on his shoulder, “We’ll see you in the morning, Jake. Take care, love.”

You and Jake had not been dating long, meeting at the end of the Dreams in Gold tour when he was running out of a small guitar shop, knocking straight into you and spilling your coffee. Ever the gentleman he was, he immediately took you to the nearest store to buy you another outfit and another coffee on which he wrote down his phone number on the brown coffee sleeve.

Coming to Nashville had been a surreal experience for you, never one to just take a three week vacation from your job to travel, especially for any kind of partner and especially not one that you’ve only been seeing for a couple of months. But Jake was adamant, he wanted you to meet Danny and his brothers before they dove straight back into touring.

“I’m gonna close out the tab, little love.” he pecks your nose as he climbs out of the booth. You smile fondly at him as you grab your purse and phone, waiting for him to return from the crowded bar. When he comes back, he holds out his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

Piling out onto the streets of Nashville, he holds your hand thumb rubbing over yours every so often. His hands calloused and warm from playing the guitar, sets a fire alight inside your belly. It’s not that you didn’t wanna have sex. You definitely did, it’s really that you never had time. Jake immediately got off tour and started promoting another album, being thrust into the world of his job and you, well, you were not going to push it.

“Baby doll, what are you thinking about?’ He squeezes your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it.

“Me? Oh, nothing important. Just admiring the chaos of the city.” He smiles warmly at you, “I ordered the Uber down a couple of blocks, it’s just easier for them to be on the outskirts of downtown.” You hum and nestle into his side as you walk peacefully down the sidewalk, your moment of peace amongst all the hustle and bustle in a busy Nashville.

When you get into the Uber, you sit peacefully for 30 seconds, looking to Jake. “What’s up, my little love?” You don’t respond, choosing instead to kiss him. Jake groans into the kiss, quietly, as he tries not to alert the Uber driver, “we’re five miles away from the apartment, baby doll, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who said I can’t finish?” You can’t see him, but you know without a doubt, his eyes have darkened and you notice a slight twitch in his jaw as it clenches. “My pretty little love…who’d have known you were such a bad girl?” His hands smooth up your thigh, slipping under the dress you put on for him and him alone. The Uber jolts to a stop and he slips the driver a $100 bill, mostly for an extra tip and partly as a thank you for not saying anything to the two of you for being sort of disrespectful. The walk to the elevator feels excruciatingly long. His hand rests on your back as he pushes you into the elevator, attacking you with lips on your neck and rutting his cock against your thigh. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me tonight, right? Gonna let me spoil you rotten?”

Your eyes roll back at his words, moaning out softly as he nibbles at your neck.

“My pretty girl…like a little praise, don’t ya?” You nod, panting. It feels a little overwhelming. He smells like whiskey and tobacco and that teakwood smell that you’ve come to know and love. “Jake,” you whimper out as his fingers come up to rub your clit over your panties. “I know, baby doll, I’ve got you. Don’t be loud in the hallway, princess.” He demands as he lets you go as the elevator doors open.

Your legs feel like jelly as you walk slowly out of the elevator, making your way down the hall to his apartment, a place you’ve been to hundreds of times before, but never like this, never for this moment. He comes up behind you, pressing himself into you as he unlocks the door and throws it open. “In,” he growls in your ear, your eyes widening, not in fear, but in excitement. He closes the door and sets his keys down, “go get on the bed, I’ll be right there, little love.” His voice is soft and calm. You journey back to his bedroom, his guitar propped up next to his nightstand, the lamp in the corner lighting up the room softly. You make a bold move and strip, leaving yourself in the panties and bra you bought for him, red like the color of his beloved Les Paul, wanting his thoughts on stage to be of you every night. As you lay down on the bed, you feel your nipples harden in your bra, suddenly feeling uncomfortable on your skin, squirming.

“Love…” you hear a whisper from the doorway, “what?”

You look to him, beautifully sculpted, his soft tummy, his beautiful thighs, his cock straining against the tight gray boxers.

“What are you so worked up for?” He comes over and hovers over you, making you feel small and protected, you giggle nervously. He shines a big smile at you. “Come on then, let’s have them off,” shaking you off any nerves by showing out with his British accent.

He runs his hand down your chest and grazes over one of the nipples as he pops the fastener on your bra, letting you take it off slowly, revealing your breasts to him. He groans out, “holy shit, baby doll, had I known they were fucking perfect, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He dives his head down and laps at one of the nipples making you gasp out, lightly sucking and nibbling at it, your hips bucking up to chase any kind of friction as he plays with your nipples.

He moves slowly down your body, licking, sucking, being tortuous, “Jake…’

“Doll…” He speaks back, low as he removes your panties, “Jesus fucking Christ.” He licks at your slit, moving up to catch your clit on his tongue.

“Oh fuck, Jake.” You reach down to grab his hair, pulling slightly, pushing his face into your cunt more and more as he violently sucks and licks. He moves a hand up to push a finger into your soaked pussy, moaning lowly, causing vibrations on your clit.

You groan out, throwing your head back, as you close your eyes. He pushes another finger in, curling them to meet your spot, as he thrusts downward into the mattress to gain some friction on his cock.

“Jakey, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper out, making eye contact with him as he eats you out like it’s his last meal.

“Come on, little love, give it to me.”

The string in your belly pops, as your pussy tightens around his fingers and your arch your back, he swings his arm over your hips and keeps you still as you ride the wave. As you come down, you move up to grab at his cock.

“No!” he pushes you down, not harshly but enough to put you back into the mattress quickly. “I know, I know you want to, but you can’t, I’m so fucking hard it hurts and I’ll cum right in your mouth and I want that sweet little pussy wrapped around my cock more than anything right now.” He presses his forehead to yours as he guides you to push his boxers down, you can’t resist though, you grab him, hard and throbbing in your hand and stroke slowly. His eyebrows furrow as he pushes out a harsh breath against your lips, “what did I tell my sweet girl?” His body doesn’t seem to be as mad at you though, as he ruts his cock into your palm. You stop his hips and guide him down to your entrance. He slips his cock through your slit a couple of times, hitting your clit with his cock, making you jump at the overstimulation. He pushes his cock into you, slowly, making sure you’re ok with every move. “Please, oh God, Jake, please move!” He moves slowly, cock making wet loud noises as he moves almost all the way back out and slams into you. “God, your pussy is so nice and wet, shit, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” He thrusts steadily into you, making small little whimpers as his cock slides into you, your breaths coming out in small little huffs. “Not gonna last, I’m afraid, pretty doll.”

His eyes roll back as he drops his head into your shoulder, slamming harder into you, “yeah, you’re such a good little girl taking my cock like this, aren’t you? It’s like your pussy was made for me.” His hand moves up to your throat, tightening as you gasp out, his face coming out of your neck to speak, whispers ghost over your lips. “So wet and tight, poor girl getting just wrecked on my cock.”

You squeeze around his cock, “Jake, please. I want it so bad, want you to cum.”

“Yeah, and where does my little love want me to cum? Maybe on her belly, her ass, maybe inside this sweet little pussy?”

You groan out, “yes Jake, yes, please oh God put it inside me!”

“Perfect little slut wants me to cum inside her? Good girl, my perfect little love,” he drops two fingers down to your clit, “cum on my cock as I cum in you, milk my cock for everything it’s got, pretty baby.”

You close your eyes as your orgasm hits you, hard and fast, stars exploding behind your eyes as Jake groans loudly in your ear, cumming inside you.

He pulls out of you, slowly, watching you whimper, “I know, I’m sorry, don’t move,” he kisses your cheek.

He returns with a damp towel as he cleans you off and then wipes himself off as he climbs into bed, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

“That was good, right? You don’t have any complaints?” You shift in his arms, facing him.

“Complaints? You mean to tell me that people have complained about Jake Kiszka, rockstar god, fucking them?”

He rolls his head away from you and laughs, “no, not really but I didn’t really wanna start now.”

“There’s that ego I fell in love with. You’re perfect, Jake. I love you.”

“I love you. Good night, my little love.”

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka

155 notes · View notes