#i will never forget you cowboy party

[grugruel]

The Girl Who Cried Cowboy

Parings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: When drinking too much at one of her father's summer parties, she realises just how inappropriate her feelings are for her fathers best friend. And he has to drive her home.

Word count: 3.2

Warnings: cowboy hat, rough sex, pinv sex, kintchen-counter sex (woooh), doggy, creampie, praise, strong feelings, "I love you", mutual pining, tension, pet names (sweetheart, girl, ma'am, darlin', woman), slight angst, sundress kink, hair pulling.

Low chatter and calm music soothed her, tuning her mind to familiar nostalgia as she faded into memory of old summer nights.

Nights much like this one.

The singing birds, the perfectly temperatured air, and the warm kisses from the last rays of the setting sun.

Her parents' big grass-clad backyard in which she sometimes slept, like now, she enjoyed the infiltrating clovers that softened the ground beneath her.

And the blue open sky that stretched above her like a lustriously painted ceiling. It was deep at this hour, but not dark. Even so, it slowly lightened as it merged into the pastel colors of the horizon.

Her world whirled, stretching and contracting mildly as a slight buzz from her many emptied beers took a pleasant hold of her senses. She smiled, putting the half spilled bottle to her lips once again. Not minding one bit that she had toppled over, rather just loving the way the grass tickled her skin as her sheer sundress bunched high on her thighs. Especially enjoying the way it moved against her nipples, now very glad she'd opted out of wearing a bra today–

'You sure know how to catch my attention, sweetheart.' A voice mused.

She faced its source but already knew who it belonged to, its presence only making her night better. He'd always been her favorite out of her dad's friends.

The sun painted her face a golden orange, as she turned toward him. A tall, blurry figure stood by her side, she squinted, and a handsome cowboy materialised. The shapes forming him steadied. She could make out the gruff hands around his belt buckle, his face, and the cowboy hat on his head. Which was busy shielding his eyes from the sun, their intent gaze observing her from beneath its rim.

She smiled knowingly. 'Buck!' She erupted, throwing her arms upward as if to hug him from the ground, spilling beer all around her in the process. 'Join me.' She giggled, and her arms fell to pat the ground at her sides.

The cowboy shook his head with a chuckle. He had never been able to say no to her.

Her bare, bent knees lulled against his lap as she moved closer to his relaxed form. She took another swig of beer, then pointed at the sky above them.

Towering over their laying forms, the sky held a full moon in its mixing colors, the suns reflection only illuminating its silvery brightness and amplifying the contrasts.

'Ain't it pretty?'

-

His wandering eyes roamed her face, the alcohol fueled blush that adorned it, and the strands of wild hair that framed her like a canvas. He wanted noting more than to push them behind her ears so he could admire her in full. He willed his eyes from traveling south. He could not, it was unfair to her and her father.

-

He hummed. 'Sure is.'

She shut her eyes, attempting to collect herself. It must be the alcohol, surely. But she hadn't even had that much to drink, had she? She placed the hat on her head properly. Forgetting herself entierly.

She faced him again, meeting his eyes. He watched the blush expand across her face as she realised it was her that he was talking about. The girl, suddenly shy. Grabbed his hat from his head and covered her giggling face. His charm was dangerous, she couldnt help herself around him. Her face poked out from beneath the hat, eyes studying him carefully as he looked back up at the moon. The colors of the sky and the green of the grass running parallel to his profile. His forehead, nose, lips, and chin placed perfectly in between them, running like a mountain range in a horizon. She got a strong urge the kiss his perfectly handsome face– ugh, fuck. . .

'Buck?'

He hummed.

'Could you drive me home?' She just needed to sleep it off, these feeling would be gone in the morning. She was sure.

He looked back at her. '. . .'Course darlin.' His eyes wandered over his hat, on her head. His lips tightened into a line as he cleared his throat.

The girl nodded. 'Can you tell dad? I hate to leave the party early, but I think I over did the drinkin'. . .' She lied. She wasn't sick, nor drunk, drunk. She just felt too guilty to speak with her dad directly when these types of thoughts ran rampid about his best friend.

Her world devolved into streaks of color as he pulled her to her feet. The booze affected body betrayed her as the footing failed beneath her feet– she collided with his chest, and his quick hands shot to her waist– catching her before she took another tumble. 'Easy there.' His drawl in full effect.

He laughed, but nodded. 'He'll understand, im sure. Your father's a wise man.' And grabbed her shoulder, and squeezing it reassuringly. Then stood, and held his hand out for her to take.

Everything whirled around her, everything except him. She could see him perfectly clear. The pair locked eyes, enjoying the feeling of his big hands molding to her waist. Something tugged on them, pulling them closer to each other. Lips brushing, noses touching. She felt dizzy, the pair of them hiding their faces under the brim of his hat. It somehow felt easier. Hands slipping to her hips, squeezing. Their heavy breathing, drinking each other in, and the squeeking of the patio door– in horror they pulled off of each other, akwardness seeping into the space between them. She kept her eyes on the ground as she realised she was wearing his hat. She'd put it on, hadn't she? Oh. . . Fuck– but she had no time to worry about its insinuations right now, and quickly removed it, pushing it back into Bucky's hands.

'Ah, there you both are!' It was her dad, walking in a straight line toward them.

She prayed he hadn't seen anything. As everyone had moved the party inside when the night began to fall.

He slapped a hand on buckys shoulder, greeting him happily.

Thank god, she sighed in relief.

But there was an akward silence, where none of them said much of anything for a second.

'Whats goin' on, who died?' Her father joked, a dry chuckle following it. But a tinge of true uncertainty lingered in his voice as he looked at them with skeptical eyes.

'Im just not feelin' to good.' She scrambled to explain, as bucky scratched his neck, not managing to come up with a good excuse himself. 'I was thinkin' of headin' home. Buck'll drive me.'

Her father gave her a slanted smile and ruffled her hair. 'Yeah? To much to fast?'

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. 'Sorry.'

He tilted his head, searching her eyes. 'Dont apologize sweetheart. Its ok. I'll see ya' later, yeah?'

She nodded again, and he kissed her on top of her head.

She loves her dad, and to prove it she'd almost kissed his best friend. Shame gnawed at her, she couldn't do that to him.

He turned to Bucky. 'You comin' back later then?'

'I'm not sure.' Bucky dared a flicker of a glance in her direction, and lowered his voice. 'Gotta get 'er home first, make sure shes alright.'

Her father nodded, seamingly appreciating the gesture. If he only knew.

'But you'll notice if I turn up.' Bucky laughed, attempting a joke to defuse the situation and playfully hit her father on the arm.

He smiled. 'Well, alright, good then. Drive safe.' The men gave each other a short embrace. 'Thank you, Buck. You're a good friend.' She heard her father whisper as they patted each other on the back warmly.

Guilt, shame, neither could begin to describe what she was feeling. She'd need to invent a new word for it.

The walk to the truck was quiet. The only proof of the life altering almost-kiss was the comforting hand he placed on her back, and now held much more meaning than that in which an old friend once had.

The sun disappeared beyond the distant treeline. A big wheatfield separated it from the dirtroad they found themselves driving down. Trees lined its path, their leafy crowns casting a high overhang above them.

Oh, how stunning, but the window would not wind down. Frustrated, she pushed it repeatedly. Her mind was not wrapping around the fact that it just wouldn't work, pure stubbornness egging her on. As she dared not ask Bucky for help. They'd been riding in silence ever since the encounter with her dad–

'You feelin' any better?' He asked, clearing his throat. The anxious avoidance of speaking had created a croak in it.

She had too much on her mind. She was overheating, just wanting some air. 'I'm fine, just a little warm.' The button was taunting her, no matter how hard she pushed it.

'Just– slow down, doll.' Bucky reached over her seat to unlock the door, then pushed the button to lower the window. Oh. . .

Sweet relief, she leaned her head against the frame of the open window. The freshness of nature and its many scents rolled into the truck in waves of pure air, clearing her mind of what it could. But as it mixed and matched with Buckys own, his perfume and masculine musk, rubbed her senses just right. It began working in the opposite effect.

'Thank you.' She spared him a glance, smiling faintly. Immidietly regretting it as she was reminded of how good he looked in the hat.

His hand fell from the door to her knee. It was supposed to be a harmless gesture, one he'd done may times before. 'You're welcome, sweetheart.'

Oh. . But this time, everything slowed, shes sure of it. Flames that should not have sparked inside her were now, in fact, raging. She screwed her eyes shut. Damp breeze, floweres, grass, birds. . . She tried to focus, to think of something else, but– hand, his hand. Moving in slow-motion, squeezing the flesh above her knee. Then, the loss of his touch.

Her eyes shot open, and suddenly, time hastened again– she grabbed his hand and without even thinking, replaced it higher on her thigh. Her eyes widened in realisation, and she felt the cowboys eyes bore into her. God, it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.

'Girl. . .' There laid warning in his tone. They were headed into dangerous territory. Yet without heeding his own warning, his fingers dug into her upper thigh, eyes landing on the pushed up skirt of her dress. He grabbed it between his fingertips and pulled it down, exhaling a big breath as if it took everything in him not to do the opposite.

She shook her head in compressed motions, the feeling of his skin was heavenly. His hand alone, without touching any crucial parts of her, set her aflame. Hesitation still lingering in her body as she fought her thoughts.

The car screeched to a halt, they'd arrived at her house. Fuck, thank, god.

She reached for the door, realising in horror that she still held onto his hand. As she made to shake herself free, he entwined his fingers with hers and sighed, knowing full well why she was in such a rush. 'Hold on now, darlin', slow down.' He met her eyes. 'Let me help you down, at least.'

Breathe, she willed herself, and nodded to him. Waiting impatiently for Bucky to open her door. Her world spinning, the real problem was that it simply wasn't alcohol induced anymore.

The door opened, and he gripped her waist, lifting her out in a swift motion. Her skin– well, everything tingled at his touch. He set her down, on steady feet, and unsteady mind. 'We should talk about this.' He tried, following her as she marched toward her door.

'About what? There's nothing to talk about.'

'Darlin'. . .'

'Stop.' She whipped around to face him. 'Just stop. I'm not your darlin', 'N I'm sure as hell not your sweetheart.' She hissed and continued walking. The words hurt her as much as they must've hurt him. God, the walk to her house felt never ending.

'I just– I care for you sweeth–' He stopped, footsteps no longer sounding behind her. '. . .'N I love your father too. I've known him for most of my life. Feeling this way 'bout ya' doesn't come for free.'

Too? He said "too" didn't he?

She turned around. 'Too?' Her knees felt weak, her mind muddled by conflicting thoughts of her father and the man in front of her. And he was quite a sight, the picture of a cowboy in fact. Putting weight on one leg, he held his belt, and his hat covered his face as he tilted it down in silent brooding. How she imagined all cowboys did.

He sighed. 'Well–' shoulders shrugging. 'What'ya expect, beautiful as you are. Inside 'n out.' He walked up to her. His hand reached for her face. She should back away. She knew she should, but her feet wouldn't move. The backs of his fingers stroked strands of hair from her face, thumb caressing her cheekbone, his touch gentler than any man before him.

He laid his forehead against hers. 'I love y–'

She kissed him. He could not utter those words. Not yet. This was not the time.

Electricity shocked her nervous system. She could feel his hunger as he cupped her face, deeping the kiss. Yet, his needy lips slowed themselves for her sake, her uncertainty.

She pulled free, gasping for breath as she had forgotten it was a necessity and grabbed his hand, leading him to the house. Eyes looking back at him, speaking more than words ever could. It was just the matter of interpreting them.

He stood leaning against her kitchen counter, observing her as she sauntered toward him. Dress billowing around her thighs. Was this really happening?

He reached for her, laying his hands at her waist and taking the fabric of her dress between his fingers, pulling her toward him. 'I really do, you know.'

Her hand reached up to comb through his hair. 'Save it.' She smiled, her other hand sliding over her dress, stopping at her waist where the bow that tied the dress together was. Slowly, as he kept his eyes locked on hers. She pulled on the string, letting it come undone, and her dress fell open.

Bucky made a sound between a gasp and a moan, barely daring to take his eyes from hers. 'I'm at your mercy, sweet girl. Tell me what to do.' He breathed, eager fingers waiting for her approval.

His words were setting butterflies to flight. Her free hand grabbed his, and led it between the fabric of her dress and her body. Laying it atop her breast. 'Touch me.' She whispered.

Shivers, shivers, and goosebumps spread in waves over her chest as his fingers came in contact with her soft flesh.

She advanced, and he obliged her request as his other hand ran down her side, snaking around her back and grabbing her ass to pull her closer against his chest.

'Please. . .' He pleaded. 'I need to feel you.' His hands squeezed her breast, producing a whimper from her lips. 'Taste you.' He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, lining her bottom lip with his tongue. 'Anything, anything you're willin' to give me.'

Her brows furrow in tortured pleasure. Waves of pressure inside her that had no outlet, nowhere to go except to her core and mind. Her thoughts were mere static at this point, all of them reduced to neurons.

'Take all of me. . . All at once.' She exhaled, the air that they exchanged with one another merged into one unisome breath.

A pained grunt. 'You sure?' He grabbed his hat to remove it.

She grabbed his hand, stopping. 'You better keep that hat on,' she warned, then nodded. 'And, im sure.' She looked into his eyes. 'Now. . . fuck. me.' She demanded.

With that, he grinned and spun her around, pressing her up against the counter. Hips colliding with the countertop in a hard thud, but she did not care. All she wanted was him, and for this short moment when they were together, truly together, her father could be damned.

His hands ran up the side of her thighs, hiking her skirt onto his wrist, and flipped it over her ass. She groaned in pain. 'Can't wait any longer, hurry up.'

'Easy girl. . ' He slowed her as he tugged her pretty lace panties to the side, moaning at the sight of her. 'Stunnin'. . '

Her mind fogged, she disappeared for a moment, not really thinking about what was happening until she heard his belt buckle and then, finally. She felt him.

His hand moved to her hip as the other aligned his tip with her entrance, and without any more thinking and delaying, he pushed inside.

A mix between a whimper and a moan pushed its way out of her lungs. 'Fuck, yes.'

Her hands braced against the countertop, protecting her hipbones against the hard surface as he began thrusting.

But it wasn't enough. 'C'mon cowboy, harder.' A moan and breath combined into one.

His hand slid up her back, unintentionally tickling her the entire way. He grabbed her hair and circled it around his fist, then held her steady as he pushed himself into her even rougher.

'Mmmh. .' She hummed. But she needed more. She'd waited so long for this that she'd be damned if there wouldn't be bruises to remember him by. 'You can do better. . Mhh- fuck.' She moaned, struggling to get her words out as he bent over her, his thrusts reaching even deeper. He leveled his head with hers, and bit into her shoulder. His blissfull muffled moans made right at her ear, and along with them came the hot puffs of breath and the dirty sounds of slapping skin. Everything scratched the nervous center in her brain, just right. 'Yeah. . . Like that, mhm. . Show me how much you, uh-huh. –need me.' She managed, her words stuttering and stumbling.

'Feels so good.' He groaned. 'My darlin' girl.'

She no longer protested. She was his, in every sense of the word. And she loved it

'Yours, just yours.' She breathed.

'Good girl.' He moaned, obviously approving of her recognition.

She could not take much more. '. . 'M close Buck.'

He nodded, his forehead resting against her shoulder. She could barely make out his nodding against her shoulder in response. He must be close, too.

'I need to see ya' girl– wanna see ya'. . . See ya' cum.'

She couldn't answer. She only moaned in approval. But it was enough for him. His swollen member had her walls clenching, sucking and squelching around his member. Pulling him closer and closer to the edge.

He pulled out of her, spun her around, and lifted her by the hips onto the counter. His strength would never, not turn her on. And without missing a beat, slammed back into her again. 'Fuck! Just like that cowboy.' She cried. Their lips meeting in needy, rushed movements as they both approached their climax. Knots tightening, pressure building, and pressure realising.

In blinding hot waves, pleasure coursed through her as her orgasm finally arrived. 'Oh, girl. .' he moaned, sounding close to a whimper as it was uttered against her lips and into her mouth. 'My good, good girl.'

Oh, she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so badly. But Bucky got there first, as he too came. Tears of joy and pleasure fell down his cheeks as powerful spurts of seed filled her core, and he collapsed to his knees. Throwing his arms around her hips, his head lulled into her lap.

'I love you.' He murmured, kissing her thighs in slow, sloppy kisses. Lovingly holding his arms tightly around her, afraid she'd disappear. He uttered, 'I love you.' Over and over again, between and during his kisses, it did not matter to him. He just needed to say it, and for her to hear it.

She watched him with awe, how could she never have known, or felt– not even seen a glimpse of the man before her, a man that worshipped her in this way. She ran her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp and nape soothingly as she smiled. Heart filled to the brim, for him.

'I love you too, Buck.' She whispered. 'Love you terribly, I think have for a long time, cowboy.'

He looked up at her, his chin resting on her knees as she slumped back against the cabinets, both catching their breaths. 'You'll be the death of me, woman.' Another tear rolled down his cheek, but there was no sorrow. Only proof of powerful stimulation, along with long pent-up feelings and needs.

She jumped off of the counter. 'Need ya' once more, before you head back.'

He grabbed her wrist and kissed his way up her forearm from his place on the floor. 'Yes, ma'am.'

She laid an index finger under his chin, tilting his face upward so their eyes could meet. 'Good. . .' She lifted the hat from his head, and placed it on herself with a smile. '. . .'Cause I still gotta ride ya'.'

[roosterforme]

Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"

"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.

"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."

"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.

"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."

He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."

"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"

"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 

"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"

"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.

"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 

When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."

"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"

Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."

Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 

"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."

"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"

"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.

"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.

"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."

A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.

You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."

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

I'll let you know if I need you.

Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.

So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 

It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.

"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.

"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 

She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."

Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.

"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."

When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"

He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.

"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."

When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."

He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"

She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."

"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."

He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"

"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."

He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"

Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 

He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he wanted in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.

Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.

"Hey, are you Bradley?"

He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.

"Julian?"

"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."

Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."

Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."

"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"

Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 

"What's it say?"

He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 

"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."

"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."

"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."

"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."

Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 

"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."

When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"

"Good luck!"

The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.

"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 

"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"

"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."

"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.

"No. They left about an hour ago."

"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"

Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"

"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.

"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."

Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."

"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"

"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."

"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."

Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 

"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 

That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.

"You got this!"

Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.

"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 

Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 

"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."

"No ID, no entrance."

"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.

"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 

She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."

"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."

"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."

Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"

Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."

"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."

She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."

Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."

"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"

"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."

Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.

"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."

Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.

"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 

"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.

"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."

"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 

"She's not here?"

"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.

"Well, where are we going next?"

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."

"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.

It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.

"Yeah, you're right, Julian."

"About what, my man?"

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."

Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."

But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 

He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.

Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.

When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"

"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.

"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"

Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."

But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."

He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."

Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."

He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"

With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.

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

There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.

"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 

As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.

"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."

When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."

You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.

He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."

"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."

He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.

"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"You really don't remember?"

Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.

"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.

"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"

"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"

He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."

"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 

"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 

You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"

He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 

"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.

"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.

"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.

"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."

"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."

As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."

"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.

"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."

He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."

"Is it really so bad that I do?"

His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."

"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."

You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."

Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.

"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."

But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.

This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"

"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"

"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."

"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."

You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.

"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."

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

He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[bombuni]

a wild ride

summary: It’s Halloween night. Your friends have decided to take you out and get you drunk, but it’s kind of hard to focus on forgetting when the man you want to forget is standing across the room and flirting with another girl. genre/pairing: kim hongjoong x reader, slight yunho x reader, smut, jealous f2l wc: 4.4k warnings: SMUT, 18+ MDNI!, mentions of weed and drinking, cursing, drunk sex but they’re tipsy at the worst, mean!dom!hongjoong, but he's soft for reader, fem!sub!reader, bratty reader but she gets tamed quick, one instance of edging, finger sucking, name calling (just the use of ‘slut’) they’re both so possessive of each other and jealous it’s crazy bom note: this is my love letter to hongjoong’s bouncy outfit bc we moved on too fast</3 anywhooo THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1K!!! we hit it like a couple weeks ago but. it’s here now guys. I thank you for liking my works enough to follow and support and nothing will prove my gratitude but I just hope this comes close enough :) please enjoy and thanks once again everyone!!<3 also, here’s a playlist i made and listened to a lot while writing this!

You’re not really sure how your friends managed to talk you into coming out tonight. Much less, how you let Wooyoung drag you into matching costumes with him and San. Now you feel like an idiot standing in a fairly inaccurate rendition of a cat next to a pirate version of Seonghwa and Spider-man Yunho. Wooyoung seems to enjoy matching with you, although, letting everyone in the cramped house know that you three ‘have the best couples costume’ in the party. It’s embarrassing having to pull Wooyoung away from annoyed partygoers every 5 seconds, but he’s already halfway drunk and it’s sort of endearing how he boasts about you.

The night has barely started and whatever poor soul lives here should already be regretting hosting a Halloween party. There’s 4 couples making out in your line of sight, the smell of weed permeates your clothes, and the drunk-off-their-ass people in the middle of the room dancing to a poor remix of Monster Mash are sure to break something. There’s a rank scent that emanates from the wall on which you’re leaning against which makes you think someone’s already thrown up right where your shoulder is touching. Or it could just be Seonghwa’s breath, you’re not really sure.

The overwhelming heat from the bodies stuffed in the room is no comparison to the heat boiling inside of you. The humidity in the air and cacophony of noises do nothing to help your rising irritation. You try to cool it down with the iced drink in your hand, but the only way the warmth will go away is by looking away from Hongjoong-who’s in such a clear view from across the room you’d consider it God’s punishment for your selfish desire-and that’s never really going to happen. Not if he keeps looking at her while he’s dressed like that. That being in an intolerably well-fitting cowboy outfit. It’s obvious he knows he looks good, his forearm resting on the wall above the girl’s head as he leans down to hear her better. To get more intimate, to give her the same enticingly inviting smirk he gives you. Your cup crinlinking harshly in your fist snaps you out of the rage-induced trance. Seonghwa’s knowing smirk is haunting you from the corner of your eye, Yunho on your other side trying and failing to hide the same impish smile.

“You know you can’t actually blow people’s heads off if you stare hard enough, right?” Yunho chuckles, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

“Ha, ha,” the sarcasm flows right off of Yunho.

“Someone’s jealous,” Seonghwa’s voice is tinged with a taunt, the smell of alcohol absolutely dripping off of him as he leans into you. You’re fully aware of his drunken intentions to piss you off, but you try your best to be mature and ignore the teasing finger he’s pointing in your face.

“Jesus, are you 12?” Smacking the finger out of your face, he stumbles back in mild surprise.

Yunho’s at least somewhat sober, laughing at the ‘pirate’s’ drunk theatrics, “I have an idea for you-”

Seonghwa lifts his red solo cup in the air and his mouth moves faster than either you or Yunho can process, “You kiss Hongjoong!”

It’s simply impossible for Hongjoong to have heard him from across the room and over the various conversations and the loud music playing, but you still shush and shove Seonghwa in a panic as if he’ll come over and shoot you down right in front of everybody. He pulls the ridiculously fake eyepatch up over his eye to stare at you incredulously, “That was rude,”

Yunho pulls Seonghwa into him, a protective arm landing over him so you won’t slap the alcohol out of his system, “Why don’t you go and, I don’t know, tell Hongjoong you’re in love with him?” He says with a mocking voice, shrugging as if it’s a simple solution.

You scoff at the tall man, “First of all, I am not in love wi-“

All of a sudden, Wooyoung pops up between you and Yunho’s bodies with his drawn-on whiskers completely smudged and cat ears gone, “Hongjoong! You looovveee Hongjoong,” he’s swaying and already moved on to telling you how much he loves you instead when you try to respond. Yunho only smirks at you, I told you so clearly evident on his pale face.

You grumble embarrassedly and glance towards Hongjoong again to make sure he hasn’t heard any of your guys’ conversation , “I don’t.”

Wooyoung hums to the song playing, balance completely lost as he drops all of his body weight onto you and tunes out of the conversation. Seonghwa’s not fairing any better against Yunho, but he’s still trying to tell you what a match you and Hongjoong are.

“All we’re trying to say is that,” Yunho pauses to move Seonghwa’s fingers from his lips, “Hongjoong’s been in a bad mood all night watching you, and now he’s chatting up another girl? I-”

Wooyoung mumbles from where he’s resting on your shoulder, “Something’s fishy,”

Yunho nods, “What he said,”

You roll your eyes for the millionth time that night. A small, naive part of you really, really wants to believe your friends. But they’re drunk, and you’ll admit you’re slightly tipsy. You’ve accepted the fact that Hongjoong will never see you as more than a good friend. You look over to Hongjoong one more time in hopes that this time you won’t feel anything, but when you turn your head you find him already looking in your direction. You can’t really tell what his expression means, but his jaw is clenched and his scrutinizing eyes remain on Wooyoung’s arms around you. It’s no coincidence or trick of the light, you’re sure, but a poorly crafted Batman passes in front of you and Hongjoong’s back to being entranced by the girl next to him.

For a second, you’re lost in space and time. You should be embarrassed and ashamed that one glance from him is enough to send you careening back into fantasies of him, but the alcohol in your system and Yunho’s encouragement makes for a deadly combination. There’s a plan forming in your head. The sober half of you is rationalizing Hongjoong’s glance and telling you it was nothing more than that; a glance. But the tipsy half tells you that you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

As Yunho sips his drink idly, you decide to take your chance, “Wanna dance, Yunho?”

He exhales sharply through his nostrils, smiling smugly because he knows exactly what your intentions are, “Sure, kitty,”

He takes your hand gently and pulls you towards the makeshift dance floor. He bows elegantly as if this is a ballroom, but he looks ridiculous doing it in a Spider-Man costume amidst people of varying states of sobriety. While you’re busy doubled over laughing at him, he sneaks his arms around you. It’s sudden when he pulls you flush against his body, brown eyes searching yours for any uncertainty before pulling your arms around his neck. For some reason, touching the nape of his neck makes you feel a certain closeness to him. Yunho leans his forehead on yours and the intimacy he’s allowing you makes you regret inviting him to dance. He really shouldn’t be pulling out all the stops for a girl who’s thinking of someone else.

Yunho takes your silence as embarrassment from his showiness, “I gotta make it believable, right?” You’ve never really thought about how tall he is until now, head tilted to only focus on you. His big hands wrap around your waist and burn where they touch.

“R-right,” you mumble, still dizzy from Yunho’s closeness.

Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong’s fuming behind the sea of people. Your back is to him so you can’t see the pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows painted on his face. Yunho, on the other hand, gladly takes notice when he finally looks over to him. Hongjoong’s s gone to completely ignoring the girl he was talking to, only humming ‘yeah’s’ and ‘totally’s’ when he’s prompted. He’s burning holes into your back, as if glaring will suddenly remove you from Yunho. The fuse in him blows when you laugh at something Yunho said. The sound is barely heard over the music and myriad of voices, but it still reverberates through Hongjoong like it’s a call to him. Only meant for him.

“It worked,” Yunho whispers into your ear and sends chills down your spine, “Your cowboy’s stomping over.” You look at your Spiderman smiling down at you one last time when you feel a gloved hand on your shoulder. You can’t really see under the strobe lights, but there’s surely no smile on Hongjoong’s face. He’s glaring at Yunho like you’re his property that he’s touched without permission. Yunho’s hands slide slowly off of you compared to the quick removal of yours, just to piss Hongjoong off even more. You’re sure Yunho has another sort of personal vendetta against Hongjoong now.

“Hey, cowpoke,” there’s a lazy drawl in Yunho’s voice, bordering on venomous, “wanna join us?” Yunho’s hands move to wrap around you again, but Hongjoong quickly pulls you back into his side. He’s surprised by how easily you meld into his movements, but he doesn’t know how far you’d really let him go.

“You’re both drunk,” you follow like a lost puppy as he pulls you off the makeshift dance floor, “and need to be separated.”

Yunho hums behind you, “I’m perfectly sober,”

Hongjoong scoffs and as he opens his mouth to retort, you pull away from him, “I wanna keep dancing, Joong,”

Yunho shrugs as if the issue is completely out of his hands-again, what did Hongjoong do to him?-and smiles, “You heard the lady,” Hongjoong’s eyes fixate on the taller man, fists clenching at his side. If looks could kill, Yunho would have been 6 feet under ten minutes ago. His mind races with thoughts of how to get rid of Yunho, how to keep you for himself, and how his hand is still pulsing from when he felt yours, fearing he’s become addicted to your touch already.

His tone is final, “No.”

Before you can even say anything, Hongjoong drags you through the overflow of bodies towards the upstairs of the house. You can certainly hear Seonghwa and Wooyoung hollering obscenities at you-even over the party noise-before Hongjoong leads you deeper and deeper into the surprisingly large house. The hallways grow quieter and less crowded before he finds an empty room, letting you in first. It’s quaint and sparsely decorated, the soft environment settling your nerves. As you sit on the white bedsheets, Hongjoong watches you like you’re his next meal.

He finally speaks, arms crossed and a questioning look on his face, “You good?’

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Yes. Are you?”

He doesn’t answer you because he’s not really sure if he is. In truth, Hongjoong can’t stop looking at you. He’s sure your look tonight is imprinted in his brain all the way from the short, short skirt to the ridiculously low cut top you’re wearing. He’s frustrated with himself that he feels so possessive over you, as if you’re already his. He’s frustrated with you for simply letting Wooyoung and Yunho do as they please.

You watch as he sits on the bed next to you, fiddling with the cuffs of his gloves. He’s trying to act nonchalant, but you can tell he’s holding back from scolding you with the way he’s biting his cheek. He’s good at hiding it from others, but not from you.

His words are short and sharp, “Were you having fun with Yunho?”

The question catches you off guard. You mirror him, playing with your fishnet leggings and watching him out of the corner of your eye. You’re scared he’ll say yes, but you ask anyway, “Were you?”

Hongjoong turns to you, “I asked first,”

You roll your eyes at him, “Whatever. You seemed pretty happy talking to Ms. Boobs-in-your-face,”

You’re being petty and insulting a girl you don’t even know, but the irritation from earlier is returning with a fiery revenge. It keeps building the more you think about the way her hands would continuously run down the textured white lines on his shirt. Or how he’d smile at her like she was the only person in the room. You can feel his eyes on you again and you’re too embarrassed to meet them. You’re sure he’s sporting a cocky smile now that he’s heard the jealousy dripping in your voice.

“You didn’t seem to mind Yunho grinding on you,” he spits out before he can stop himself.

That finally makes you look at him, “He was not-”

“And Wooyoung’s hands all over you,”

You gawk at him, surprised to know that he had been watching you too. Now the pettiness you’re both showing is obvious. The air is tense before you speak, Hongjoong’s intent glare making you feel small, “You know how Wooyoung is, especially when he’s drunk,”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes at you, “Doesn’t explain Yunho crawling all over you,”

You cross your arms, inadvertently pushing your tits together and Hongjoong has to hold back a groan, “Why are you so concerned with what Yunho and I do?”

There’s a mutual understanding of the jealousy coursing through the room, though it’s unspoken. In your anger, however, you can’t really process the fact that he’s possessive over you. That he’s outright admitting he thinks of you as his, and vice versa. Instead of simply kissing and making up, you keep pissing each other off. Why you keep pressing his buttons you’re not sure, but you can’t deny how hot Hongjoong looks with the black cowboy hat tilted over his face, muscular arms tensing under the dim light.

He stands to his full height again-too frustrated to stay still-moving so that he’s right in front of you, “What, so you’re into Yunho all of a sudden?”

“Did you just bring me up here so you can interrogate me on my love life?” you mumble.

His jaw clenches again, “You’re so mouthy tonight, you know that? I’m getting sick of it,”

He’s invading your space now, lips so close you could just reach up and touch them with yours, “What are you going to do about it, Hongjoong?”

The words seem to set something off in him, his lips on you so fast it’s dizzying. His warm hands automatically find their way to your hips as he pushes you backwards onto the bed. He’s finally figured out how to silence you, muffling any sounds you make with his mouth. Anything that comes from you, he wants for himself. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, both too focused on getting out all the built up feelings and frustration. Neither of you care about anything but getting more and more of each other. You feel his tongue finding its way into your mouth and you don’t put up much of a fight anymore.

He doesn’t pause his attack on your lips, panting while he speaks, “You gonna keep mouthing off, baby?”

Your mind short-circuits at the nickname. Although a large part of your annoyance has now dissipated, his lips like water to soothe the burn of your desire, you still want to see how far you can push him,

“Dunno,” you pant out.

His right hand slides up from your hip bone to your jawline as goosebumps follow the trail of his touch. A whine slips out of you when Hongjoong’s hand contracts, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips into a pout so your focus is on his words. He can’t help the prideful smirk when he hears the noise you make, happy to know he has such an effect on you.

“I know,” a kiss to your jawline, “I’m going to show you who you belong to,”

You wiggle in his grasp, but he’s holding you tight, “And exactly who do I belong to?”

He smirks down at you, thoughts running through all the ways he’s going to break you, “Oh, you’re funny,” he leans threateningly over you, “You’re very funny,”

Just because you enjoy the game of stirring him on you continue, “Yunho said the same thing,”

He smiles dangerously at you. Not dangerous in the sense of attractiveness, but more in the sense that it’s a warning to the vicious, envious territory you’re entering. You feel your resolve melting against him, the air suffocating you with the thick, heavy feeling of pent-up desire. However, he doesn’t even let you get the right words out before he sticks his thumb into your mouth. It’s surprisingly appetizing, and you don’t wait for his sign to go before wrapping your lips around it. It’s your silent apology for what you said.

Now, his smile is gentler. But it’s Hongjoong, and Hongjoong doesn’t let things go so easy.

“Sluts needs to be quiet,” he whispers softly, but it’s who it’s coming from that makes it so you hear it loud and clear. You nod in obedience, still lapping as he adds more fingers into your mouth, exploring this part of your body.

“You know what else sluts need to do?” You shake your head and open your eyes up at him, “They need to fucking behave.”

He growls, “You’re gonna take what I give you until I’ve had enough. Then I’ll give you what you want,”

You want to whine and protest, but he’s looking at you like that’s not even an option. He stares down at you, taunting and challenging you. Hongjoong knows you’re not happy about his rules, but he doesn’t care. You need to learn to forget about anyone other than him. He won’t stop until you do. Your mouth pulls off of his fingers with a pop and you realize all too quickly what a mistake you’ve made.

His eyes squint at you, “Did I tell you to stop?”

You peer up at him with a guilty look, pout heavy on your lips hoping he’ll show just the slightest bit of mercy. But once again, it’s Hongjoong. He manhandles you towards him, back to his chest and for some reason it feels like you’re a complete puzzle.

He gropes your sides, pulling you close so you can feel how hard he is for you. The feeling of him rubbing against you makes you moan, the sheer satisfaction of finally getting what you want making you high on the pleasure. You know you’re supposed to be quiet, but the excitement of going against Hongjoong just ‘cause makes you want to do it more.

You spot his blue hair out of the corner of your eye as he leans down to your ear, “You’re gonna be quiet and take it like a good slut,” His right arm comes up and around your neck, pulling you in as if you aren’t already close enough, “Unless you want Yunho to hear?”

His clothed dick is making you weak. It’s the only friction he’s given you so far and it’s already breaking and tearing you apart. You shake your head vigorously, spouting nonsense babbles as if you’re appalled Hongjoong would even suggest that. However, Hongjoong seems all too enticed by the idea of everyone hearing how loud he can make you. You try to get more from him by rutting back into him, hoping he liked your answer, but he stops your hips.

“Sluts don’t get what they want, baby,” He pants into your ear and you realize he’s just as torn as you are, he’s just better at hiding it. His hand finds its way under your skirt, fumbling to pull your panties down. The sound of your wet pussy fills the room as Hongjoong plays with your folds, agonizingly slow to make you shake with anticipation.

He smiles down at you, “You’re so fucking wet,”

Before you can say anything snappy, he slides in you. He fills you just right, and you don’t want to sound crazy, but you feel like your pussy was sculpted just for him. His cock drives in you and hits right where you need it to. It makes you want to fall over, too weak to hold yourself up, but Hongjoong stops that from even happening.

You’re whining for more, “Keep being loud and Wooyoung will hear you,”

You gasp as he thrusts in you, but it just spurs him on. Being buried in you feels right, like it’s where he was made to be. He chalks up his intensified feelings to the alcohol flowing in his system.

Your moans mix together, “Seonghwa too? Want me to make everyone in this house know who’s fucking you?”

You can barely keep your head up, much less respond to him. The bed squeaks as he thrusts in you over and over again, limbs entangled. You start to think Hongjoong may have some jealousy issues, but you don’t mind.

His hand snakes around you again, this time reaching to play with your clit. His fingers make your knees buckle, the rhythm between his hips and his hand sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You don’t have the energy to process it, but all the while he’s telling you how he’s the only one who can touch you like this.

Your lower half is on fire, white hot sparks of pleasure flowing all the way from your abdomen to your toes. All of your senses are heightened because of Hongjoong’s touch and you feel the pleasure reaching its tipping point, right before Hongjoong rips his hand away and stops his hips.

Your complaint is right on the tip of your tongue, but Hongjoong drags you like a ragdoll over him before you can get the words out. Your senses haven’t even come back to you yet, but Hongjoong looks up at you with the cockiest smile and you feel that same bliss again.

His hands on your hips turns your nervous system on again, “You wanna cum, baby?”

Your voice comes out hoarse, “Yes. Yes, please, Joongie,”

He looks up at you contemplatively, as if deciding whether you deserve to finish or not. It makes a defiant whine build up in your throat the longer he takes.

He shushes you with a nudge, “Then work for it.”

Hongjoong’s tone is final and even though you’re on top of him, there’s no room for control or for arguing. He looks up at you expectantly, simply waiting for you to obey. You want to grab his collar, make him regret talking to you like he owns you, but unfortunately he in fact does.

The cowboy hat is befitting now, so you take it for yourself. His blue hair is disheveled and tangled underneath it, but he still looks celestial. A laugh rips out of him as the hat tips over your head when you look down. You pout at him, but the giggles slip into groans when you slide down him again.

It’s entirely too distracting for Hongjoong, and he has to bite his lip to hold back from cumming on the spot. You’re too tight and wet, too perfect for him. He almost regrets putting you in this position now.

But you look too good all sweaty on top of him, mouth parted open in satisfaction, with the sound of skin against skin accompanying you. Watching you bounce with his hat on makes him feel a little crazy.

His hand reaches for your clit again, finding that spot that he’s learned your body really likes. Your back arches against his fingers, shuddering at the feeling of him. His fingers follow a pattern against you, persistent in their goal to make you cum. It’s too good, too fast. You can’t help it as your body falls over him, pleasure overriding your ability to function.

Hongjoong laughs at you, “Can't do anything on your own, huh? Dumb slut needs me to help,” You nod against his neck, hiding your embarrassed blush.

He, uncharacteristically, kisses the crown of your head. You suppose it’s an apology for the way he hauls your thighs over him, then slams you back down on his cock again. Once again, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. You feel the heat rising in you again, your body tightening up against Hongjoong.

This time there’s no signs of him stopping, his forearms keeping a tight hold of your thighs as he spears you on his cock over and over again, his desperate pants right by your ear.

He senses you’re near your tipping point, “See? All you needed was a good fucking for you to behave,”

You nod brainlessly, simply following whatever he says with only one thing on your mind.

“You can cum, baby. Want you to be loud so even fucking Yunho knows,”

You feel it coursing through you. It’s been a slow build up waves caused by Hongjoong, but now with his permission it turns into a full-on tsunami hitting you. The pleasure shoots through you, your entire body seizing up as it takes over you. Hongjoong fucks you through it with slow, shallow thrusts. Or at least he tries to, before the feeling of your tightening pussy finally pulls the orgasm out of him. He’s quick to pull out, his cum splattering all over his lower abdomen.

When you’re done, you’re left panting and sweaty on his still shirt-clad chest. You feel his racing heartbeat against your hands, heavy breaths beating against you. You look up and Hongjoong has the softest, tranquil smile for you.

“I only danced with Yunho to make you jealous,” you mumble amidst the silence.

His hand runs through your hair under his hat, “I only flirted with that girl to make you jealous,”

You’re scared by how soft and intimate it’s suddenly turned. You’re scared Hongjoong only thinks of you as a fuck buddy now, nothing more nothing less. So, You don’t say anything else.

He knows you by now, knows where every cog in your brain goes and how it works. Hongjoong pokes your cheek gently, “That means I like you a lot,”

“Oh,” you feel your heartbeat pick up speed, “me too.”

“Good,” he smiles at you again, that charming and sugary sweet smile he only gives you, “then we’ll go on a date.” You nod into him, blissful peace finally settling over you.

You’re halfway to sleep when Hongjoong speaks up again, “Can I have my hat back?”

[rosegoldrosieee]

so high school

while flesh-eating walkers had seemingly crushed your long-held dreams of experiencing romance as a teenager, carl grimes made you feel so high school.

♡ carl x f!reader, fluff, implied suggestiveness, friends to lovers (sorta), ambiguously alexandria, reader has a spine

a/n: wrote this yesterday hiding in the bathroom during lunch on my school-licensed chromebook for maximum immersion

it was times like these, standing outside on someone’s back porch to get away from boisterous conversations and forced interactions, that reminded you of stupid high school chick flicks with cheesy one-liners, twenty-something actors playing sixteen-year-olds, and predictable love triangles.

you never got to navigate and, most importantly, surmount pubescent awkwardness, nor gush about crushes at sleepovers, because by your twelfth birthday, the dead somehow began to roam the earth.

out of sheer necessity, you’d eschewed any shot at teenage romance for survival skills, and effectively turned into a wallflower when you rejoined civilized society.

a gentle tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your reverie.

“hey.”

there stood the very reason you were even thinking about early-2000s romance movies in the first place: a chronically flannel-clad, one-eyed cowboy, notorious for merely sharing the same last name as the de facto leader of alexandria, now two feet in front of you holding a shot glass of fruit punch.

“didn’t mean to scare you.” he says with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“the only thing that’s scaring me is what you’re using as a vessel for your fruit punch.”

“everyone used up all the solo cups so i had to dig around in the cabinets,” he replies nonchalantly, holding up the glass. “why are you out here?”

why were you out here?

…

you can’t even remember.

“i don’t know.”

it’s hard to think, much less remember, anything when carl’s looking at you like that, arms crossed and leaning forward onto the banister, blue eyes boring into your own.

“did you even hear me?” he taps your hand that’s resting on the ledge gently, his lips quirking up with the ghost of an amused smile.

your eyes flick up to meet his attentively. “…what?”

“wow, you’re really out of it today,” he laughs, sipping from his shot glass. “forget it.”

you shift your weight, shaking your head. “well, i’m listening now, so tell me.”

his fingers are fidgeting with yours, you realize. tapping gently on your knuckles. intentionally, unintentionally? it was cute either way.

he tilts his head. “i just want to know what you’re thinking about.”

you shrug, as dismissively as you possibly can. swallowing down the butterflies that threatened to crawl into your throat.

“getting away from this stupid ass party.”

he raises an eyebrow, tone skeptical. “and?”

you narrow your eyes. it was a bad habit, using vitriol to mask your emotions. you were well aware. “what do you mean, ‘and’?”

“‘cause you’re smart,” his lips curl into a smirk. “that’s not all you’re thinking about. you’re never all…spaced out, like this.”

fuck you, carl grimes.

“i’m just tired,” you fib. your eyes drift to your hand, intertwined with carl’s, before quickly looking away. “you’re reading into it too much.”

“only because you’re not acting normal,” he teases, a dimpled grin gracing his features before he adds, “and you definitely would’ve pulled away by now if you didn’t want this.”

you steal a glance at your entangled hands again, heat rising to your face before you ask, skeptical, “what are you trying to do, exactly?”

“what do you think i’m trying to do?”

you glance to the side furtively, tongue-tied, still able to hear the muffled revelry through the shut screen door, before your eyes trace over his features again.

you wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face so badly.

tugging at the collar of his unbuttoned flannel, you shift your weight to the balls of your feet, connecting your lips to his fruit-punch-stained ones.

you swear you’ll never drink hawaiian punch, or any drink with red-40 in the ingredients list, again without imagining the taste of him lingering on your lips.

expression tinged with a gradient of conflicting emotions when you pull away, you open your mouth to say something— and then he pulls you in this time, words dying in your throat with a soft whimper.

the party fades into an afterthought until you hear the screen door open just around the corner, thudding against the frame. quickly, you disentangle yourself from his arms, faces still flushed.

it’s rick, his rugged, stubbled face and piercing gaze (so it must be hereditary, you wagered) flickering between the two of you suspiciously, nodding at you curtly.

“carl.”

thank god for your quick reflexes — those, at least, hadn’t deteriorated just because you were sheltered by alexandria.

carl swallows, freckled face flushed as he quickly looks at you, panic etched on his face. the evidence of your little affair conveniently disguised by the shadow of his cowboy hat and the darkness of the night.

“dad, can’t we stay a little longer?”

“think the party’s ‘bout over.”

you peer into the ajar casement windows, abandoned solo cups decorating the vacant living room, watching abraham stagger into the mudroom and nearly take a shelf with him when he topples forward. rosita, unamused, rolls her eyes, grumbling something unintelligible before dragging him along.

before the grimes family gets into a fight, you take it upon yourself to leave first, retrieving your cardigan that was hanging on the banister. “see you around, carl. bye, mr. grimes.”

both of them wave as you disappear into tree-lined streets, intermittently illuminated by uniform streetlights.

as soon as you’re out of earshot and out of sight, you let out a pleasant sigh, smiling from ear to ear like an absolute idiot as your hands reached up to feel your flushed cheeks, still hot to the touch as you giggle to yourself at the incredulity of it all.

at home, once the high had worn off, or more realistically, ebbed for the time being, you shed your cardigan, scrutinizing the crimson patches blooming on the side of your neck in the mirror, smiling like a fool.

these were the only kind of bites you’d ever tolerate.

[chukys-mouthguard]

your.username

liked by colecaufield, trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale and 786 others

your.username note to self: don’t let Cole and Trevor handle the fireworks next year 🙄🤦🏼‍♀️

tagged: colecaufield, trevorzegras, lhughes_06, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, cam.york

view all comments

trevorzegras okay relax, we didn’t actually blow anything up

-> _quinnhughes you’re being bag checked before you ever step foot on my boat again

-> your.username oooo trevor’s in troubleeee

-> trevorzegras it wasn’t my idea it was colecaufield 😩

-> colecaufield at least we looked good in our matching sunnies 😎

-> trevorzegras not as good as you and your.username looked all cuddled up in your matching hats 👀

-> your.username no such cuddling took place

-> _quinnhughes i think by cuddling he meant making out

-> colecaufield i plead the 5th 🫣

y.f.username ain’t no party like a hughes lake house party 🧨

-> your.username only the best parties happen with the hughes boys

-> trevorzegras hey! Can’t forget the rest of us!

-> y.f.username you almost blew up the boat and killed us!

-> trevorzegras i call that, making memories 😊

-> _quinnhughes i call that, trauma 😵‍💫

user1001 i wanna be in this friend group so bad!

-> user1003 right?! Their summers must be so fun!

liked by your.username

adamfantilli sick invite guys

-> your.username you were literally jet setting to Italy or something

-> adamfantilli it’s still nice to extend an invite even if i decline 🥲

user2945 i need more your.username and cole content 🫶🏼

cam.york you seriously posted evidence of trevor whooping my ass at pong 🤦🏼‍♂️

-> your.username oops…

-> trevorzegras HA, and I’m never letting you live it down

-> jamie.drysdale hold on to your one and only win in pong ever trev 😂

-> your.username ariana what are you doing here?! haha

-> jamie.drysdale i had to stop by to chirp trev 😏

user3856 why are cole and trevor like this?? 😩😂

-> your.username they are literal children that need permanently separated at public functions 🙄 lol

jackhughes still can’t believe cole stole my cowboy hat so he could match you

-> your.username i told him i would buy him one 🤦🏼‍♀️

-> colecaufield and i forgot, are we surprised?? but your.username and I looked good so it was worth it! 😉

-> jackhughes i don’t want that hat back after whatever y’all were up late doing 🤢

-> your.username literally nothinggggg happened! Stop spreading rumors

-> lhughes_06 not rumors, i heard you two…kept me up all night

-> colecaufield i told her to keep quiet 🤫

-> your.username cole shut up or they’re seriously never inviting us back to the lake house 😭

user1024 okay but her and cole matching?? 👀 I’m 100% here for this!!

-> user1035 did you see jack’s comment about them??

-> user1024 omg i just saw it! So they are for real a thing?

-> user1079 could have just been a hook up, this is the first they’ve posted like this…

______________

I’ve never really done a longer smau type post before, hopefully i did alright 😅 i have been seeing this style of post a lot and figured I’d try my luck at it. Kind of want to make more of these 👀

if you would like to see more posts like this, feel free to send in a request! 🫶🏼

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐚

word count: 3.1k

summary: The cowboy rule: You take the man’s cowboy hat and wear it, that means you gotta ride the cowboy. What happens if you don’t take Marks hat?

warnings: dumb mark (in a loving way), slight angst, drinking, swearing, make out scene at the end

note: i am incapable of writing a story without angst im sorry ahahaha. the cowboy rule is basically a secondary plot device but it’s fine. it’s also kinda sloppy because i’m sick and dying 🤣

College started off normal for you. You moved into the world's smallest dorm, a thought that passed through most freshmen's heads when they came face-to-face with their shared space. You met your roommate, dreading the possibility that she was going to be the most vile girl you had ever met, but she turned out to be one of the best people you knew. You become overwhelmed with your workload and wanted to die. Most importantly, you met a guy.

Mark Estapa was a boy you had met in your calculus II class after he had not so quietly asked you for the answers to the previous lectures homework. You had noticed him before that day, of course. It was impossible not to. He was, after all, the cutest boy you had seen on campus. Following that day, you had agreed to help him in class, and he convinced you to join his hockey team’s media crew. It wasn’t long after that you entered an intricate and complicated relationship with the hockey forward.

It started off as harmless flirting, teasing remarks, and longing stares. Then it turned into blatant flirting, sexual innuendos, and subtle, lingering touches. Before you knew it, the two of you found yourselves in an empty bathroom at some random party with his lips exploring parts of you that no one else had before. You’d expected to walk out of that bathroom and pretend it never happened, but then it happened again. And again. And again. Now, halfway through sophomore year, you were still entangled in the messy, sticky web that was your relationship with Mark.

“You coming,” Ethan’s voice rippled through your thoughts, his brow quirked in curiosity as he watched you bring yourself back to reality.

“To what,” You slightly pinched your brows together, dropping the hand that was previously picking at your lip.

“Party. The theme is like “this ain’t my first rodeo” or some shit like that, so we’re dressing up all country,” His voice was full of amusement, and a lot of excitement, “I hope there’s a mechanical bull.”

You sent Mark a sideways glance, who only gave a shrug in response. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, annoyed at his change of behavior over the last few days. He’d been acting distant, which typically wouldn’t bother you, but it came seemingly out of nowhere. You tried to not let it upset you, but it did. It upset you far more than you wanted to admit.

“I guess,” You mumbled, your eyes trained on your hands that were clasped in your lap.

Ethan glanced between you and Mark, letting out a quiet sigh at how stupid the both of you were. He’s known about you and Mark since the day it started, and he’s also known that it was more than the two of you let on. He could tell that Mark liked you by the way he was constantly looking at you when you were around, and the way he was always bringing you into the conversation when you weren’t. He also noticed the way you would linger on Mark with the media camera, and the way your face flushed when he would toss you a playful wink.

He’s not entirely sure what had his best friend pulling away from the girl he’s loved for the last year, but he was determined to not let him screw it up more than he already was. How? Ethan wasn’t sure, but he’s hopeful he’ll be able to come up with something by the time the party starts.

“Now ladies,” Dylan nodded his head towards you and the other girls, “Do not forget about the cowboy rule. What is the cowboy rule you might ask? If you take the cowboy hat and put it on your head, you ride the cowboy.”

“Yeehaw,” Luke let out, a cheeky smile forming on his face as everyone in the living room of soph house erupted into laughter at his dumb joke.

You had gone back to your shared apartment with your roommate a few hours later, barely speaking to Mark during that time period. You’d tried to talk to him after the group branched off into their own conversations, but he mumbled something incoherent and went up to his room. If it were a typical day, you’d have followed him up there, but it wasn’t, so you didn’t. Instead, you fell into conversation with Luke and Dylan as they discussed their cowboy outfit.

“He still being an ass,” Jillian asked as she peeked her head out of the shower, watching as you did your hair.

“That’s the thing,” You lowly chuckled, dropping the strand in between your fingers to look at her, “He isn’t even being an ass. He’s being distant. Which is worse, I think.”

She let out a quiet hum, head going back under the water as she spoke, “I think he’s being an ass regardless. I mean, he treats you like his girlfriend all the time, and now he’s just ghosting? That’s an ass.”

“Yeah, I guess,” You mumbled, eyes and shoulders dropping in defeat.

“No ma’am,” She slightly shouted, “No sadness! You heard Duker about the cowboy rule or whatever. Well, you’re gonna steal someone's hat tonight.”

When you and Jill arrived at the party, the house was already buzzing with life and music. People had their own version of rodeo attire on as some slammed back bottles and cups alike, and others did their best attempt to line dance at whatever song was playing over the speakers. You were holding tightly onto Jill’s hand as she weaved through the sea of people, making a line straight for the kitchen to get a drink.

When you finally managed to break through the wall of bodies, you found yourself in the kitchen with a few of the boys from the team. They were huddled in a corner talking amongst themselves when they noticed the two of you, and it wasn’t long before a pair of arms were wrapped around you. Though they didn't belong to who you wanted them to.

“Ethan, put me down,” You giggled as he twirled you around, his hat nearly falling off his head in the process, “You’re making me dizzy and I’m not even drunk yet.”

Once your feet are planted comfortably on the ground, you couldn’t help but search for Mark within the group of hockey players. His dark eyes were on you the second you walked through the doorway, so it wasn’t hard to find him. His jaw was set and eyes narrowed as he watched his best friend’s hand linger on your lower back.

His gaze flicked up to meet your own, and his features softened as soon as he saw the way your brows were furrowed and eyes wide in confusion. Truthfully, he wanted to walk over and gently yank you into his side and away from Ethan; silently claiming you as his, but he couldn’t. He was trying to push back the feelings that have been growing inside of him for a year, not make them worse.

You held Mark’s stare for a few seconds before he was glancing away and a frown was slowly carving its way onto your face. Jill was quick to shove a drink in your hand when she noticed the sad look making its appearance. She not so subtly tossed a wicked glare in Mark’s direction before tugging you away from the kitchen.

No matter how hard you tried to enjoy yourself, all you could think of was the one boy who wouldn’t talk to you. You were trying to figure out what you had done, where things went wrong. Jill had tried to keep you present in conversations and various activities, but you always found your mind floating off to Mark.

It wasn’t until you were outside on the deck with a group of people that you actually saw Mark again. He was off to the side talking with a few of his teammates, and a few random girls. You couldn’t help but let the jealousy burn in your chest as you watched them with baited breath. From where you were, he appeared to be laughing and enjoying himself while one of the girls gripped his bicep.

Jill’s gentle voice echoed in your head as she called out your name, but you were focused in on the sight in front of you.

Her face contorted as she watched you let your thoughts and jealousy consume you, but she knew her efforts were going to do nothing but harm until you tore your attention away from Mark. She’s known you long enough to know that when you’re even slightly tipsy, trying to make you do something you didn’t want to do was only going to make things worse, so she waited.

Time began to still as you watched the blonde’s hand slowly creep up his arm. You knew what she was going to do and, with Dylan’s words from earlier ringing in your ears, you wanted him to tell her to stop. To carefully push her away and tell her no. Her manicured fingers grasped the brim of the hat, hastily pulling off of his head and placing it on her own.

“Shit,” You heard Jill mutter as you tossed the rest of your cup's contents into your mouth.

The alcohol burned your throat, but it didn’t matter to you as you turned on your heels and scanned the pool of guys around you. If Mark was going to play that game, so were you, and you loved winning. Your eyes lasered in on the school's star quarterback, who you’d only talked to a handful of times before, and before you realized what you were doing, you were rushing towards him.

“Hey JJ,” You cut in through a break in the conversation he was having, voice sticky with honey.

“Hey,” He cheerfully greeted, eyes briefly darting down to your blatantly exposed cleavage, “What’s up? You enjoying the party?”

“Yeah, I am now that you’re here,” You playfully flirted, twirling the ends of your hair as you looked up at him.

He let out a loud laugh, but he grabbed your waist and pulled you into his side as the two of you fell into a flirty, surface level conversation. You secretly hoped that, despite the girl who was desperately seeking Mark’s attention, he was watching you. You hoped that he was watching you and was feeling the same thing you were feeling only moments prior.

“You know, I always thought you and Estapa had a thing,” JJ pointed out, eyes flitting to where Mark was watching the two of you.

The mention of him had your lips turning downwards as you asked, “Why?”

“Well, because the two of you are always together, and he’s looking at me like he wants to fuckin’ kill me,” JJ chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, “But if you’re not together…”

You could sense the shift in his tone, and it had you glancing up at him with a knowing look. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol in your system, the fact that you were upset with Mark, or a combination of both, but you found yourself reaching for the hat that sat on JJ McCarthy’s head. However, your hand was roughly yanked backwards and his body was shoved away from you before you got the chance.

Your vision blurred from the sudden movement, the thoughts in your head dizzying as they tried to find solid ground again. You heard jumbled yells around you, a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist as it was slightly jerked around from movement. Your vision cleared, and your stare finally settled on Mark’s back.

“Look dude,” JJ held his hands up in mock surrender, “She said you guys weren't dating. My bad.”

Ethan stood between the two boys, palm firmly against Mark’s heaving chest as worry was written all over his face. He could barely see you hidden behind Mark’s much taller figure, but Ethan could feel your anger radiating off of you, and he didn’t blame you. However, a very tiny part of him is glad that Mark’s anger wasn’t directed at him, and that he didn’t have to utilize the dumb plan he’d figured out moments before the party.

“We’re not,” You snapped, roughly pulling your wrist out of his grasp as you glared daggers into the back of his head.

Mark’s body tensed as your words floated into his ears, his already racing heart increasing tenfold when he picked up on the venom that was laced in them. He knew you had a right to be mad, and that, truly, he didn’t. He was the one that was pulling away from you, but he thought it was the right thing. He thought it was, until he saw you in the arms of JJ McCarthy.

“Ba-,” Mark tried, hand reaching out for you, but you cut him off.

“Stop it, Mark. Don’t call me that,” You spat, tears brimming your eyes as you stepped away from him, “God, I hate you so much.”

Not sparing a glance at the circle of athletes around you, you spun on your heels and ran into the house. You dodged bodies as you darted towards the upstairs part of the house in search of an empty room, blatantly unaware that Mark was following closely behind you. You considered yourself lucky when the first door you tried turned to be an empty bathroom, but the luck was short lived when you heard an achingly familiar voice calling your name.

“Go away, Mark,” You called out, trying to overpower his strength and shut the door, but of course, he won that battle and was slipping in through the small opening.

“You don’t mean that,” His words were rushed and broken as he looked down at you, and it was as if all your anger had dissipated with that one look.

A part of you hated just his easily you fell into his hands, but the look of pure heartbreak that was slapped against his soft features was enough for you. It was enough to leave your own heart aching even more than it already was. It was enough to make you unofficially his again, even if he didn’t ask you to be.

“Mean what,” You asked.

“That you hate me,” He whispered, “You don’t mean that, right? Tell me you don’t mean that. Please, baby.”

Mark’s eyes were full of desperation and longing as he begged you to take back what you had said. To tell him that you could never hate him. To tell him that you loved him instead.

“Mark,” You breathed out, shaking your head as tears spilled down your cheeks, “Of course I don’t hate you, but I do think you’re being unfair. You get to let some blonde bitch take your hat, but the second I try a-.”

“I didn’t let her,” He interrupted, grabbing your hands with his own, “She did take it, yeah, but I immediately took it back. The only person I want taking my hat is you. It’s always been you and it will forever be you.”

Your pupils were blown wide as you took in his words, letting them settle as your internal thoughts battled each other. Trying to decipher if he was telling the truth, or if he was just saying it because he knew it would get you to crawl back to him, even though he was the one that pulled away from you.

Marks heart raced as you stared at him in silence, and he could tell that you didn’t believe him by the way your brows were furrowing every few seconds. It was a habit he’d noticed when he first saw you in calculus last year. He would watch you doing the school work, and he could always tell when you were torn between an answer by the way you pulled your eyebrows together and scrunched your nose.

“I know I’ve been an ass,” He continued, “I’ve been pulling away from you without an explanation, and I’m sorry. I just- Fuck, baby, I’m scared. The way I feel about you scares me, and I didn’t know what to do so I just did what I do best and fuck it up.”

“How do you feel,” You finally got out, heart in your throat as nerves pricked at your skin, “About me.”

“There are not enough words in any language to describe how I feel about you,” He stepped towards you, his hands dropping yours to cup your cheeks and brush away the tears with his thumbs, “But, I do love you. I love the way that you always go out of your way to help people, even if you don’t know them. I love the way your face lights up when you see any animal anywhere. I love the way that you laugh at your own jokes, even when they’re not funny. I love you in a way that makes me feel like without you, life has no purpose because you are my purpose.”

The tears that rolled down your cheeks in waves were no longer tears of pain, but tears of the utmost happiness you have ever felt before. You’ve wanted to hear Mark say that he loved you back for so long, that finally hearing it almost felt unreal. If he weren’t standing right in front of you, with his hands on your face, you wouldn’t believe that it was real.

You said nothing, choosing to crash your lips against his own in reponse. His reaction was instaneous, his mouth working with your own as one of his hands slipped the base of your neck, tilting it so that he could slip his tongue into your mouth. He backed you against the bathroom counter, lifting you onto it with ease and without breaking contact.

You were grasping at him, pulling him into you as his lips molded with your own. It was sloppy and rushed, but it was perfect. With Mark, there were no slow, sensual make out sessions. They were always messy, hungry and desperately full of passion, but that was one of the things you liked about him. Every time you kissed, it was like it was the first time all over again.

Mark pulled away from you, lips swollen and bright red as his chest heaved. You didn’t even need to look in the mirror to know that you were sporting a similar look. You watched as he readjusted the brand new cowboy hat that had gotten bumped around during your kiss, and you quickly grabbed hold of it and placed it on your own head.

“You heard what Duker said earlier,” You teased, staring up at him through your thick lashes, “Take the hat, ride the cowboy right?”

[farleighlover]

— “i always want you when i’m coming down.”

| farleigh start x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.1k

a/n: hello loves !!! i am SOOSOOSOSOSO sorry for not uploading in so long, i have been very busy this past month ! so sorry once more. i hope this makes up for it, i wrote the ending literally tonight, so i’m so sorry if it’s sloppy :(. i also did not know if phones in 2006 had voicemails so let’s roll with it and not question anything! anyway idk who ordered a yappuccino

— / part two. (part one here.)

you’re in your english period, sitting where you usually sit. next to farleigh.

when farleigh finally enters at the last second and takes his seat next to you, you move. you can feel the confusion and his gaze on you as you find a seat next to a girl. she immediately lets you sit and holds out her hand for you to shake it. “hi! my name is ava. you’re the girl who farleigh cheated on, right?”

of course people mostly know you for your messed up relationship.

you sigh and smile a little before shaking her hand. “yeah, that’s me.” she nods while smiling. “moving away from farleigh when he just enters is definitely mean. good for you!” she’s energetic, shaking your hand with a firm grip and quick shakes. at least you know she’s confident. you chuckle dryly, “haha, i guess so.” she gives one quick smile before looking away when the professor starts class.

all throughout the class, you can feel farleigh’s stare burning into you. you take a quick glance at him. his expression is unreadable like always, although there’s hints of anger and frustration. you smile at yourself because you got a rise out of him, which you have never done before, shockingly. when class finishes, farleigh moves towards your seat but before he reaches it, you move and leave, leaving him there.

its been almost 2 weeks, another party arrives. farleigh has made no attempt on trying to get you back after that “inconvenience” and you haven’t either.

most times you just stay in and don’t go to the parties, but this time, you finally went. it felt a little freeing, going out yourself, not caring if you get drunk and high, all that sort.

you wore a black mini dress, showing your curves yet not too revealing. you haven’t wore this dress in forever. it felt… somewhat refreshing and relaxing.

you went with ruby, a small duo but you were going to get noticed throughout the party from how popular you were from your relationship. and all this attention led to farleigh staring at you.

he was in a table with felix and his group. you could hear their loud chatter and laughs all during the party, but not a familiar laugh, not farleigh’s laugh. you glanced over and saw farleigh staring directly at you before he quickly looked away. but all throughout the party, you could feel his piercing gaze on you.

ruby spied at farleigh for you. “oh yeah. it’s working.” you set your drink down. “what? it is-?” you almost turn around to look at him before ruby snapped her fingers in your face. “don’t look at him! you’re going to communicate to him with your eyes.” you rolled your eyes. “you can’t get enough of this “eye-talking” thing.” she scoffed. “oh whatever. you know i’m right.”

ruby kept her eyes peeled on farleigh, trying to act like a spy or like those cowboys in those bars who always have a shotgun on them. she picks out every “weird” detail about him, like how he spaces out a little or how it looks like he plays with his hair more than usual, although you know that that’s just how farleigh is.

“and with these problems comes solutions, and i use ‘em, when i’m faded i forget, forget what you mean to me. hope you know what you mean to me.”

“he’s so high. jesuus…” she let out a giggle before trying to bite back a smile. ruby has always had a little crush on farleigh. even though it somewhat weirded you out, you knew multiple people had a crush on farleigh because he was popular. it was just something that happens. “it’s like… his eyes. they’re getting redder and redder. somebody get him a mirror.” as she continued laughing and picking insults at him, not as the “what the fuck is wrong with him”, but as “he’s so cute” kind. you couldn’t help but just blur out everything. partying isn’t fun anymore if it just meant spying on your ex and being around sweaty guys, trying to find an one night stand and failing. it was actually quite pitiful.

“oh my gosh.” ruby gasps, widening her eyes. you try to read her expression and sigh, rubbing your temples when you give up. “what now?”

“he’s flirting with another girl. and it’s serious.”

you clock your head to look at what’s happening, before ruby snaps her fingers in your face. you roll your eyes and groan. “who is it?”

“it’s that… ava girl.”

“ava? no fucking way it could be ava.” you thought. ava was… totally farleigh’s type in pure reality. a short, pretty blonde who’s hyper and flirty, and also known as a whore. she’s the type girl to list men as “hoe 1, hoe 2, and hoe 3” on her phone.

you didn’t expect farleigh to move on that fast, but at the same time, you somewhat did. farleigh has a dull type, letting anybody who caught his eye do whatever.

ruby studied, making disgusted faces and commenting also criticizing every move, before you had enough. “jesus christ, ruby. forget this, i’m going home.” ruby almost spits out her drink, sputtering as she tried to keep you sat down in your chair.

“okay, no. let’s think about this, how can we make farleigh jealous?” ruby thought, actually squinting her eyes and stroking her chin. you sigh and before you’re able to call off this an entire thing, she blurts out her idea. “what about to flirt with another guy? i know, i know. i’m so smart.” she flips her hair as you cringe a little.

the idea finally settles in your brain. “what? flirt with another guy?” ruby nods, slightly amused. you were thinking about how badly this could go. farleigh was always a little “protective” if you will, over things. but at the same time, farleigh was all bark and no bite. and you were drunk.

as you thought, ruby dragged you out of your chair. “c’mon! you can flirt with uhh…” her eyes roam around before it landed on felix. “felix! go flirt with him!” she pushed you a little closer to their booth. “what?!” you were a little startled at the thought. actually, horrified at the thought. what if felix totally rejected you in front of everybody, including farleigh? if that happened, you wouldn’t even know what to do! you would just crumple as you get laughed at and dissolve away. you shook your head. “you’re insane, ruby. i’m not doing that.”

she swatted her hand, trying to swatting your concerns away although it didn’t help. “nonsense, you only live once.” before you can do anything, she give you one final shove and now you’re right in front of everyone. felix, farleigh, god when did it get so hot in here?

you immediately glanced at her, seeing ruby cheer you on, giving you a smile and thumbs up. you scoff and roll your eyes before facing back to felix.

“fi,” you call, having a small grin on your face. it was a name you called felix sometimes which also, made farleigh extremely jealous because he wanted to be the only guy you gave a nickname to.

you gave out your hand to felix. “wanna dance?”

felix peers up and glances at farleigh and ava. as he looks, you also look. you see farleigh rolling his eyes and trying to play it off, but you know deep down he’s jealous.

felix decides farleigh has his girl, so he stands up and gives you a soft smile before taking your hand. “of course,” he brings your hand to his lips and gently kisses your chuckles. you smirk before walking and leading him away, giving farleigh one last glimpse. he looks angry and disrespected, but also hurt and powerless. you look at ruby as she gave you a smile and a cheer.

you led felix to the dance floor. not too far from farleigh so that he could watch every single move. you two did what regular college kids did. dance, flirt, make out a little, just whatever felt right in the moment. it made you feel a little bad for farleigh, but every time you thought of him, it immediately made you think about how he could just cheat on you with not a single regret. so you continued with your plan.

eventually the party died down, and felix said his goodbyes and how he had a fun time with a kiss on the forehead before leaving. after a little, you went to ruby.

“ohhhmagosh, you did amazing! i was so stressed out, but you did sososoososo well! did you see his reaction? he was totally…” ruby spoke a mile a minute. you tried to register her words, but only a few sentences stood out. “—he was looking at you so much, ava stood up and left! it was so funny, you should’ve saw the look on his face. and then he went somewhere… i don’t know, went and sat on a couch, just smoking and… he looked like he was waiting for someone? i don’t know, but he was thinking a lot.”

he was waiting for someone? you knew instantly what farleigh was doing. you and farleigh had this tradition that after everybody left, you two sat on this couch and just… talked. you two always did it after a party. no making out, no sex, no nothing. just talking. nobody ever knew you two did this, not even felix or ruby. it was a secret between you two and you two only.

you felt a pang of guilt. this was farleigh’s way of getting you back. he would never go up to you in front of everybody and ask you back, especially after you danced with felix. his pride would never allow that.

you swatted your hand in the air, sweeping it under the rug even though you still felt bad. “ruby, it’s getting late. we should go to sleep.” ruby nodded before yawning. “yeah okay… good job girl! you stood your ground!” she smiled and gave you a high five. you chuckled, the corners of your lips tugging to a smile.

“thank you, ruby. now let’s go back to the dorms, okay?” she nodded yes. she looked like she was going to pass out. as you two took your leave, you glanced at farleigh, both of you meeting eyes. his expression was unreadable like always, but also somewhat pleading. you felt yourself get a little remorseful, but you played it off by scoffing and looking away.

“(pick up your phone), the party’s finished and i want you to know, (i’m all alone), i’m feeling everything before i got up.”

you don’t know how long farleigh sat on that couch. it was on your mind throughout the night. you ignored text messages of him asking and actually begging you to talk to him, until you heard your phone ringing. you flipped it open, seeing a call from farleigh. ruby told you to just let it ring and go to voicemail, which you did. it wasn’t soon before a voicemail from farleigh appeared on your phone. you took in a breath before listening to it.

“jesus christ… hey. you could at least answer my calls or something.” farleigh sighed and groaned quietly. “listen, i’m sorry okay? is that what you wanted to hear? making me watch you get with felix and everything…” he scoffed and paused for a little before continuing, sighing once more. “baby, i’m sorry.” his voice a little more apologetic and genuine. “you know i love you, i just— forget things when i get high. can we— can we just talk? please? like before? i just… i miss you. please call me back when you get this, i love you.”

you felt yourself feel a little sad at farleigh’s words, but at the same time you knew if you went back to him now, he’ll do the same thing all over. you’ve been trying to get farleigh to quit and every time he fails, no matter what. you have had enough of his bullshit.

throughout the night, you kept receiving more calls from farleigh and in each one was him getting more desperate. he sounded like he was on the brink of tears at some point. you lost count how many he sent awhile ago. eventually, he stopped calling when he realized you weren’t going to accept his apology. on his last voicemail, he muttered,

“i always want you when i’m coming down.”

.. taglist: @fuckshitslover @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @flipsconhelado @nataliesfirefly

[greensagephase]

a random thought/imagine because I NEED to run into a Miguel at a Mexican party and falling in love with him! @fairlyang 's post got me going, I was going to reblog my crazy scenario through their post, and then this turned TOO LONG (I'm delusional, so that's why this is so detailed)!!

If you're not Latina/Mexican - just hear a delusional woman out plsssss (me hoping to manifest by writing this fr fr)

Going to a Mexican party, sitting at a table with my family because soy una muchacha seria y callada (I'm a serious and quiet girl), so I'm not on the dance floor, but I see Miguel in the crowd with the other men talking, dressed with a sombrero and botas (cowboy hat and boots), wearing gold jewelry (he's Mexican he has to wear gold jewelry, sorry not sorry).

I'm trying very hard not to stare and make it obvious because my fam is there and I'm a good family girl, a proper señorita, who hasn't been with anyone nor has done anything with anyone (this is my version guys, so don't mind the personal touches here) but !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'M ALREADY IMAGINING WHAT HIS VOICE SOUNDS LIKE, HOW MUCH TALLER HE'D BE IF I WERE STANDING IN FRONT OF EACH OTHER!! I'm subtly -oh so subtly- admiring his large broad shoulders and BACKKK (having some serious thoughts about this part; hint: my long nails, anywayyyy), the way he stands, his thick thighs, the way he lifts a cup to his mouth, his laugh, his smile - yall, I'm planning a whole wedding, even though I know I'm not making a damn move because your girl IS SHY IRL (a moment for the shy girls ✊🏼😔), but a girl can daydream behind the centros de mesa (table centerpieces) my mom and grandma are taking home by the end of the night!!

I keep watching him, subtly, telling myself it's silly but I keep daydreaming anyway. IT'S FREE!!!!!!

He ends up spotting me from across the room while some love song is playing in the background because you know, Latinos and our love songs!! It's probably something like "Háblame de Ti" by Banda MS or some song by Grupo Frontera like "Bebe Dame" 😍 (iykyk) anyway, the music is not helping your delusional girl (me, you, us, everyone).

Imagine imagine imagine - MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AS HE BRINGS THE CUP TO HIS MOUTH WITH A LITTLE SMIRKKK-(why did I just get goosebumps?) YALL YAL YALL

Freezing up and going through all stages of grief because I was caught staring !!!!!!!!!!!! I look away, trying to play it off even though my cheeks are the color of the red flowers adorning the room!!! I'm drinking some water, trying to C H I L L because I can feel his gaze on me.

Thinking it's safe, I look again AND - HE'S STARING

Then for idk how long it's just a lot of ignoring/pretending that's not happening because once again, I'M SHYYYY (once I get to know you I open up but like, it takes a hot week) but I'm just thinking, "este hombre" (this man; also wondering what his name is and why I've never seen this man before???) because I'm literally dying pretending I'm okay and fighting the inappropriate thoughts while sitting next to my grandma because Miguel keeps staring, going along with his conversation with the men (who have noticed him staring and probably tease him about making a move, or telling him to forget it because "esa muchacha/morra no baila con nadie" (that girl doesn't dance with anyone). So he just watches from a distance, trying to gather some info and noticing little things like how I'm avoiding his gaze, the nervous smile, trying to pretend that side of the building doesn't exist-

and thennnnnnnnnnnnnnn

at some point he leaves his side of the room, steps determined. I once again *subtly* notice this and then freak out when he's coming my way but I'm like "no way, right? right?" *hearts racing abnormally*

IMAGINE HIM APPROACHING THE TABLE AND INTRODUCING HIMSELF TO YOUR PARENTS AND GRANDMA, OR WHOEVER ELSE IS THERE?? And then looking at you, giving you a gentle, soft smile WITH SOME MISCHIEF BEHIND THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES YOU'VE EVER HAD THE PRIVILIGE LAYING EYES ON AND MAKING YOU FEEL THINGS - or like a commenter said the other day in one of my posts "senti cosas de mujer" (I felt women things)!! YOU'RE FEELING THINGS THINGS !!!

AND HE ASKS YOUR PARENTS IF HE CAN ASK YOU TO DANCE WITH HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE HE REALIZES YOU'RE A FAMILY GIRL, AND THAT'S HOW HE'S GOING TO WIN YOUR FAMILY SO HE CAN HAVE YOU BECAUSE MANS HAS ALSO ALREADY PLANNED THE WEDDING RECEPTION'S MENU !!!!!!!!!!!

ok bye, thank you for listening to my unhinged scenario but in all seriousness - God - I've seen what you've done for others !!!!! Send a Miguel O'Hara lookalike my way with sombrero y botas, chest hair, and gold jewelry, and who knows how to fix the light that turned on in my vehicle, which I've been ignoring for months, and who helps with the masa for the tamales para Navidad (helps with the tamales dough for Christmas) because he has large, warm hands 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

[topherwrites]

FIC RECS: OUTER RANGE, OUTER BANKS, STRANGER THINGS

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each. This is split into two parts, TGM fics and everything else.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! If I missed you, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

RHETT ABBOTT

Yellow Soul by @creatchie8

Trapped in a relationship with your high school sweetheart Perry is like a never ending nightmare of always stepping on eggshells. One winter break changes everything as you are reintroduced to his younger brother, Rhett. Looking for an escape, Rhett provides the perfect shelter you crave.

right where i want you by @sushiwriterhere

Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett.

Odds are Stacked by @sunlightmurdock

In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

Wayfaring Stranger by @/sunlightmurdock

Betrayal sends Rhett veering further West, searching for answers and searching for himself. Instead, he finds you.

Much Love by @southpawbitch

you & rhett have found yourselves in a little fwb situation despite the fact that you have a fiancé.

About Last Night by @delopsia

A self-indulgent take on Rhett's best friend coming back to Wabang and surprising him after his final rodeo.

Dancing Beneath the Moon by @/delopsia

How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy? And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you?

Closing Time by @youvebeenlivingfictional

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. “S’that supposed to mean?” “You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.”

RAFE CAMERON

Untouchable by @boneblushed

It is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.

Glitch by @/boneblushed

Rafe has a bad fall on the ski slopes. A temporary amnesiac, he falls in love with you all over again.

So Gorgeous It Actually Hurts by @/folkloreslovechild (deactivated)

childhood enemies to lovers, the slowest of burns, an unbearable amount of pining, both parties in heavy denial for like 90% of the fic, Rafe’s a total douchebag but he can’t help it (you’re gorgeous).

Euro Trip by @/folkloreslovechild (deactivated)

europe summer trip au!

new light by @outerbankies

you come home from college to spend your last summer before senior year in your hometown of the outer banks. an old friend hits you up wanting something more, and you begin to see what’s really been there all along.

You Belong With Me by @forevermoreharrington

Rafe’s fallen helplessly for his dream girl but she just doesn't see it yet.

tis the damn season by @atlabeth

When your roommate Rafe lies to his family that the two of you are dating, you agree to go home with him for the holidays to help sell it as his fake girlfriend after a generous bribe. It's just three weeks in the Outer Banks with one of your best friends -- what could go wrong?

Armour by @probably-writing-x

Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

So We Won't Forget by @netegf

you meet rafe cameron at a grief support group while he struggles with the loss of his father. he's trying to be a better man, and you can't help but love him for it.

Hate It When You Leave by @/netegf

you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. He's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want… including him.

I Know I Am by @bookofbonbon

For Rafe, it's always been you. He's just waiting for you to realise it too.

STEVE HARRINGTON

redamancy by @sanguineterrain

redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

dancing with our hands tied part i | part ii by @taintedcigs

in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex.

EDDIE MUNSON

Pearl by @cacoetheswriting

a story about two kids trying to navigate through love and loss, inevitable goodbyes, various reunions, friendships and hardships, joy, heartbreak, plus surviving the upside down - all to the sound of Janis Joplin's Pearl.

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future In You | 2.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, enemies to lovers kinda thing, requited love but they’re idiots your honour, smut, pinv, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy / birth complications

…

A little past 1am, legs stretched out ahead of you, draped across Bradley’s legs. Some old straight to TV movie playing, giggling like a couple of teenagers. Bradley loudly voices his complaint as he picks up a m&m that had been thrown at his forehead.

He’s in just a pair of shorts, his hair dry now and his curls a little shorter than normal. Navy regulations. You kind of miss the length that he used to have on the back and sides, but this look suits him too.

“I’m just saying, you’re the one who fucked my roommate.” You shrug, mock-nonchalantly, and pretend to focus back on the movie in front of you. It’s some dumb story of a small town cowboy.

In the mood for dramatics tonight, Bradley throws his head back and groans.

“Before I even met you!” He chides, sitting forwards and snatching the candy from you before you have opportunity to turn any more of them into projectiles.

“Then you texted her after you’d already knocked me up.” You remind him, playfully calm.

“Ah, ah — She texted me, it’s not like I would’ve fucked her again — and let’s not forget that you had a whole boyfriend until you were in your second trimester.” Bradley points out.

“And stop saying knocked up. Makes me feel weird.” Grumbling like a discontented teenager, Bradley nudges your leg with his so that you have to look at his face and see his little frown.

All of that seems so far away now. Ryan. Your roommates, who you’ll probably never see again. Christmas with your family. You’ve barely even thought about it all since you got here.

“I’m sorry, Bradley — how should I be phrasing it?” You tease.

His lips tug at the corners, threatening to disrupt his dramatic frown and disarm his little act. A small shrug of those broad, tanned shoulders.

“All those couples at the parenting class keep saying ‘when we found out we were expecting’. That works.”

“Mm, but when I found out I was expecting I cried for three days and when you found out you implied that I was a whore and offered me money. Our story doesn’t really sound like theirs’.” You remind him. He presses his lips together in a line. That feels so far away now too.

He remembers the anger he felt towards you back then, which is a complicated thing in itself. He remembers why, and how — and everything about that first week, actually. He remembers being so furious at you for making that choice without him. A complete stranger, complicating his future when he had just stepped out of his complicated past.

The anger still makes sense to him. He doesn’t feel it anymore, he isn’t proud of the way he acted, but he can look back now and know that it was all just fear.

Going from being a scared little boy and looking after a sick mother, to being an adult and having nothing to care for but himself, to then meeting you. It hadn’t felt fair to have that all stripped away before he had started it.

But now, when he thinks of this living room being empty, or that small room being an office instead of a nursery, it makes this all seem so much more bleak.

The movie credits roll, leaving you even more confused about what the plot was supposed to be. Bradley sits up and pushes himself onto his knees, then parts your legs for him to dip between. You’re sighing softly now, contented as he presses his lips to yours.

“I don’t think you’re a whore,” He mumbles against your mouth, making you chuckle softly against him. “And I’m glad that I knocked you up, for the record.”

Another soft chuckle. He presses his lips warmly to your skin. Cheeks, jaw. A gentle tour of your face.

“You are?”

“Yeah, you’re hot pregnant,” Bradley beams at you, earning himself another little laugh. “And — y’know, I’m excited for the kid too.”

Looking up at him, your fingers circle over his smooth, freckled shoulders. A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before a commercial comes on and disturbs the bliss.

“Time to put the baby to bed, don’t you think?” He asks. You glance down at your swollen stomach and back up at your new boyfriend. Smiling at him, you give a defiant shake of your head.

“We aren’t tired.” You decide.

A soft groan and he cups your belly in his hands, feeling soft fluttering kicks to unfortunately support your claims. Smile growing into an embarrassingly amused beam, you watch Bradley as he pushes your shirt up and peppers kisses across your stomach.

“Tell him to give his old man a break, some of us have to be up in a couple hours,” Bradley murmurs into your skin, earning himself an applause of his new favourite sound. He looks up grinning at your laughter. “What?”

“You, being somebody’s old man,” A quick scrunch of your nose and a shake of your head, laughter still bubbling through you. “Weird to think about.”

His cheeks redden like the tops of his ears, then he grins. Sitting back on his heels, his hands slide along your stomach to rest at the very bottom. Again, he feels a soft little kick against his palm.

“Y’know, I think he’s nocturnal. I barely felt him this morning and now he’s wide awake.” You explain.

Another shrug, smiling as he leans down and kisses your stomach once more. “Wanted to stay up and watch a movie with his folks.” Bradley muses, making you smile. Absentmindedly, you card your fingers through his fluffy, air-dried curls. His lips press warmly to the underside of your belly, “No harm in that.”

Fingers trailing from his auburn curls, down over the tanned muscles in his shoulders as he peppers kisses across your stomach.

“He’s got you wrapped around his finger already. Old man.” You tease, nudging at his leg with your foot. He chuckles softly, cool breath tickling your skin. Another kiss, then he looks up at you.

“Me? — Mama’s the one letting him stay up late.” Bradley prods, sitting up and bringing his mouth to yours once more. The kiss is slow, lazy, his hand cupping your hip. When he leans over you now, your stomach always bumps into his middle. He’s going to miss it when it isn’t there anymore.

Turning his head, he presses his face into your neck and nips softly at your skin. You hum, keening towards the feeling. It becomes growingly tender, lips replacing teeth, tongue soothing over the warm spots left behind.

Finally, he sits back up and kisses your lips chastely. “Will you come to bed with me?”

“You can go ahead, I won’t wake you up.” You promise.

“I know, but I like falling asleep with you.” He squeezes softly at your hips, remembering to be gentle with your sore joints these days. He sits forwards and kisses your mouth again, then again after that. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he isn’t going to stop until you agree.

Pushing against his bare chest, he sits back on his heels and raises his eyebrows at you.

“Fine…” You huff, extending your arms for him. Slipping his hands into yours, he’s on his feat with an annoying level of ease that you can no longer manage. He tugs you up with him.

“I’ll lock up.” Ducking around you and kissing your neck, he leaves you with a gentle pat on the ass and then moves to make sure all of the doors and windows are locked and that the lights are off. You pad along the hallway to your shared bedroom and peel your shirt over your head.

Over the past month, you seem to have really popped. The kid is really making himself known in there. Enough so, that you’re well into the stage now of wearing exclusively maternity clothes or stretching out Bradley’s old gym clothes. Tonight, given the lingering heat, you opt for an old basketball shirt that Bradley hasn’t fit into since high school. Before he grew a foot and lost eighty pounds in his junior year.

It’s not huge on you at this stage of your pregnancy, but gives you the reprieve of a waistband pressing into your stomach.

Bradley’s chest hits your back before you even feel him approaching, turning his face into the crook of your neck, almost knocking you over with his weight.

His hands skim under the shirt and up over your stomach, making an all-too-familiar beeline for your breasts. He groans softly into your skin, growing half-hard against your back.

“Mm-mm,” You’re smiling and shaking your head at him all at once. “You need to go to bed, remember?”

“Fuck,” He breathes out, eyes closed, soft skin under his palms. If he pressed any harder into your back, he would knock you onto your front. “I do.”

Your palm slips between the two of you, reaching back to cup him over his shorts, stroking just loosely over the length of his hardening cock.

“Would be pretty difficult to sleep with that, though.”

“You’re such a tease.” He mumbles into your neck, kneading softly at your breasts. He rolls his hips forwards slightly, using your hand for friction on his increasingly hard cock.

“Are you flying tomorrow?” Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder, his lips sucking softly at the curve of your neck. His realization courses through him like relief, you can practically feel it.

His head shakes quickly. “In a classroom all day.”

Your palm squeezes softly around the tent in his shorts, a quiet hum, mock consideration, leaving your lips. His hands push at the shirt, slowly dragging it up your middle and tugging it over your head.

His eyes feel heavy on you, hands trailing featherlight along your sides. Bradley reached out slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder as he takes hold of the band in your hair. He’s especially gentle as he takes it down and turns his face towards your hair.

Illuminated by the soft light of the bedside table, Bradley’s becoming increasingly gentle with you — each time that you’ve slept with him recently, you can feel that he’s being more careful than he would normally be. He knows that you’re sore and more tired than you would normally be, but he never once declines the opportunity to have you.

Today is no exception as he turns you towards him, palms skimming along your back, squeezing at your ass as he holds you against him. Laying you down slowly on your shared bed, he notices your lips quirk softly as he covers your body with his.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You give a small shake of your head and lift to kiss him, still smiling when you pull back. He squints at you, studying the amusement on your features. It just makes you want to smile, is all. Him being so wordlessly soft; knowingly gentle. It doesn’t take a conversation or a warning. He knows your limits.

He knows you so well these days. The kind of shampoo or deodorant to pick up. Exactly which spots to press his fingers harder into when he’s giving you a foot rub. Exactly how to make you scowl at him and melt into his arms moments later when he’s being annoying. Your chest heaves with a particularly deep breath.

Bradley’s lips are on your chest, his hands skimming along your thighs, kneading at the flesh.

“Tell me you want me.” It’s a pant, really, just breathless. He rocks himself against your core, sitting back on his knees and squeezing at your hips. He takes that plush, pink bottom lip between his teeth and just stares down at you with the prettiest mahogany coloured eyes you’ve ever seen.

Teasing at an almost smile, you bite the inside of your cheek to contain it. A soft shake of your head and he smiles back at you. You glance down, watching him palm over the tent in his shorts. Finally, you meet his gaze once more. “I don’t think your ego can handle being any bigger than it already is.”

“It can take a little more,” Bradley hums. He exhales, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he watches his ring and index fingers dip through your folds, gathering your excitement on the digits. “Tell me you want me.”

You do. So badly that it makes you hot. Makes your muscles go tense. Makes your chest tighten.

“I want you,” It’s an admission that you never would’ve given him months ago, weeks ago even. There’s a lot about you now isn’t the same as it was a few months ago. It’s right on the tip of your tongue. I love you. It’s insane — terrifying, actually. You swallow and stick to what you know, “I want you.”

It would slip so effortlessly off of your tongue. When he’s buried into you, breathing hard into your ear, your face buried into the curve of his neck and god — he still smells exactly like him, now mixed with your body wash that he’s adamant he doesn’t steal. So natural, just another breathless, meaningless exhale in the middle of sex.

“You feel so good,” Bradley groans out, his thick fingers sliding along the nape of your neck and up into your hair. He curls them into your roots and flexes his fist just softly. Just the right amount of tug, a gentle pull that has you moaning against his jugular. “Fuck, baby… you…”

He turns his head, lips grazing your jaw and working lazily along to your lips. When he gets there, finally, it feels like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. He kisses you slowly, his tongue in your mouth and his hand in your hair. In your shared bed.

The mattress is softer here and he never wakes up with a sore neck because of the shitty pillows. Sometimes he wakes up with a sore neck because of how his body is wound around yours, but he doesn’t mind that as much. Moaning into his mouth as he fucks into you slowly.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

A breath catches in your throat and you aren’t sure whether it’ll turn into a laugh or a cry. Ultimately, it settles into a soft moan, your breath tickling his earlobe and making him shiver. Then, it becomes a laugh. He sits back on his knees to get a good look at that grin on your face.

Stretching out his shoulders, he guides your thighs over the tops of his. He gives them a soft squeeze and slows down a little, giving a breathless nod. “I mean it. You’re so fucking perfect, just like this.”

He wets his lips with his tongue, eyes trailing ever so slowly along your body, rocking his hips forwards tenderly. Briefly, you think that he’s going to say it. It doesn’t happen. Just more expletives, shallow breaths, eager grunts. More kisses, his hands on your skin.

After, when you’re settled into his old basketball shirt, under your sheets, and he is wrapped around your body from behind, his big palm sprawled out over your stomach — you’re okay with it. The silent knowledge that he must be on the same page.

The next morning, he has to be up before the sun is even halfway risen. He’s growing proficient at doing it without waking you. Showering silently and dressing in the bathroom, laying his clothes out the night before. It always makes you stir when he slips back into the room and leaves you with a chaste kiss on the lips, and a soft peck at the top of your rounded stomach. Still, you’re okay with that too.

You squirm a little, laying back against that perpetually uncomfortable plastic-leather mix exam chair. The gel is a lot more uncomfortable when you’re still hot from the mid-day Florida heat than it had been on those snowy mornings back in Virginia. Still, it’s all routine by this point. The cold jelly on your stomach, comfy pants that can easily be pushed down a little, warm sweater to combat the always high air conditioning.

You’re missing the part of your routine that has always made you comfiest: Jake sitting outside in the waiting room. He’s states away, Bradley’s stuck in work, you’re all on your own. It’s just a routine check up — just to check if he’s breach. You’ve been telling yourself that all morning. It hasn’t stopped you from sitting on the carpeted floor of his nursery and staring at his crib, still in the box.

Your heart swells at the idea of meeting him. You’ve been picturing him a lot recently. Your nose, Bradley’s lips. Soft morning cuddles, sleepless nights, constant diaper changes — it’s easy enough to tell yourself that you’re ready, it’s just more of a complicated thing to be certain that you are. Even if you’re not ready, he’ll be here in a few short weeks. You need to remind Bradley to pick up screws for his crib.

The doctor’s brows knit together, she adjusts her glasses and wiggles the wand a little bit, then looks back to you. “Hm, have you been experiencing reduced movement at all, Miss Seresin?”

The question throws you. Blinking at her, chilled from the whir of the air conditioning, you shake your head. Your throat squeezes. “No, not at all. He was kicking a lot last night.”

Both of you look back to the screen. He’s moving now. Little legs just kicking softly in that familiar black and white hue. A quick glance across, you stare at your sweater on the chair where Bradley should be sitting. It’s too cold in here. You’re not sure if you’re allowed to move to get the sweater.

“Hm,” She nods her head slowly. Her face is calm enough, her tone doesn’t give you any clues. The thought that crosses your mind hits you like a speeding semi. Blunt force, speeding — out of left field. Six and a half months of no contact and all of a sudden, sitting alone in this exam room, too cold, you want your Mom.

It’s clear that you’re panicking, and the doctor continues with as much caution as she can. She speaks to you like she’s trying to soothe a crying child, but it isn’t patronising. Her neatly groomed brows raise at you, “Any fatigue, bleeding, stomach pains?”

“I’ve been tired, I guess.” You squeak. She softens, reaching out and placing her hand into yours. Your throat tightens. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s just looking a little bit smaller than we would have expected for this stage in the pregnancy,” Your heart sinks, and the side of the exam table suddenly feels especially empty without Bradley there. The doctor continues on as comfortingly as she can. “I’d just like to run a few tests while you’re here — just to make sure that we’re prepared to make the end of your pregnancy as safe and comfortable as possible.”

As she turns and leaves you trapped in that little grey room with the closed blinds, shutting out any semblance of sunlight, all that you can think about is the first appointment that Bradley ever came to with you. Everything going on back then and how badly you had wanted him to not even show up. How confusingly nice it had felt to have him holding your hand through it. Your head falls back against the exam chair and your eyes burn with tears.

You leave the office with a pamphlet on fetal growth restriction, potential causes and side-effects. It might not be that, she tells you, some babies are just smaller and that’s just fine. They just want to keep a close eye on you these last few weeks. Early delivery is a possibility.

You’re dialing the number out of pure instinct. Flowing tears, running to Mommy — there’s a natural link there. Some kind of hardwired impulse, probably. Chest heaving, blinking back searingly hot tears, you listen to it ring and ring. It’s just a Wednesday morning, maybe she’s at the office. It just keeps on ringing.

Bradley frowns as he listens to the busy dial tone, pulling back and checking his phone. You’d promised to call him when you got out of the appointment. He checks down at his watch. Maybe Jake got a couple of minutes to call you. He has to be back in class. He texts you that he’ll catch you at home and turns.

If his mind were clearer, he might have noticed the stare on him as he turned. The familiar blue eyes, blown wide open. Maverick pales at the sight of the boy at the end of the hallway. Familiar sandy brown curls, a brief look at Bradley’s face. The mustache he had been trying to grow when Mav saw him last has grown in now. Maverick swallows.

He hasn’t seen this kid in almost two years. Not a single phone call or text. He hadn’t even known where Bradley was living after he moved out of the house in Norfolk. And now he’s here, standing at the end of a hallway in a random Navy base that Mav wasn’t even supposed to be at this week. Dressed in his khakis, he’s a kind of familiar that makes Pete Mitchell’s stomach churn.

“Bradley?”

…

@chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @marvel-f1-and-more @heli991113 @pauv-0414 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm334 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @littlemissobsessedwitholdermen @sunflowerziva @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawseresinbabe @damrlovq @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutfordw

[reveluving]

if the skirt fits ; andy barber x reader

summary: Andy finds a little secret of yours.

warnings: heavily implied s~mut; costume kink (minors DNI!), familial fluff & mild humour!

a/n: you don't know how happy I am for finally sharing this piece with y'all, considering how it has been collecting dust in my drafts since LAST YEAR, but here it is; one of my earliest ideas for the series! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” ;

"You could dress up as Jason?" You suggested what might’ve been the seventh costume idea since the drive home from dinner at the Thai restaurant nearby. 

"Done that." Jacob replied as he leaned forward from his seat to talk to you and his father.

"Spiderman?" 

"I feel like everyone's dressing up as Spiderman this year." 

"But not everyone's going to dress up as the same one." You had a point, considering how you and his dad were the first victims of his Spiderverse fixation since the second movie was released, so you knew what you were talking about.

"I guess,” Jacob thought for a moment before falling back in his seat, taking your idea into consideration, “I guess I just want something… different." 

"If you want different, then we could get you one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes on the internet." Andy held a playful look even as his eyes remained on the road.

"Very funny, dad." His son grumbled, despite fighting back his own smile.

"Aw, cheer up, Jake. You've got time." You reassured him. 

“Yeah… And I’m not too worried. The store next to Aunt Sarah’s bakery got some cool stuff when I bought last year’s costume,” Jacob mused before asking you, "What about you, mom? Have you thought of a costume yet?" 

Ah, mom. Even after all this time, you and Andy will never get tired of him calling you that.

"Mmm, not yet. But when I do, I'll make sure you're the first to know." You and Jacob shared a smile in the rear-view mirror, only to be interrupted by Andy clearing his throat.

"Uh, you're gonna tell him first and not me?" He cocked his head, feigning disbelief.

"Of course. You lost that privilege when you suggested Jake the dinosaur costume." You and Jacob laughed as Andy dramatically groaned, telling you ‘I didn’t mean it’ in an angsty teenager tone.

"I am not dressing up Ken." Andy answered, removing his watch and leaving it on the vanity table.

"Oh, c'mon, Cowboy Barber has a nice ring to it." You said with a lilt. 

"And where exactly am I going to find a Western shirt in my size?" He quirked an eyebrow at you.

"We could always ask the Flags. Her husband might have one hidden somewhere."

"Just because we've seen him with a cowboy hat last Halloween?" He remembered seeing him wearing one during the community party at the park.

"You'd never know. Barbie and Ken are safer than your recommendation." You opened the closet without taking your accusatory eyes off him.

"What's wrong with a devil and an angel?" 

"Andy." Surely he could tell how ridiculous he sounded. 

"It's… easy…? And you'd look really good in it." He tried to persuade you, standing next to you.

"At a party full of kids?" You weren't sure how the parents that were a little more… conservative would feel about their kids' teacher dressing up like that.

"I didn't say it was for Wilson's party. It's for our afterparty," He wiggled his brows, "Just you and me while Jake stays over at the Wilson's." 

You snorted. How cheesy of him.

"Wilson's party first, then whatever you want after," You turned back to the hanging clothes, "And besides, you should be the devil, not me." 

That wasn't a no.

"You know what," He pursed his lips, already considering your idea—especially with the black suit he knew you'd melt over, plus a red tie before dodging the swat of your hand with a laugh. Just then, he noticed you'd been searching for something for a while, unbuttoning his cuffs and folding his sleeves before asking, “Need some help?”

“I can’t find my panties. The baby blue ones.” You frowned.

“The one with the lace?” He asked, prompting you to nod, “I mean, as much as I love seeing you in those, you know I don’t mind you without any in the first place.”

“Nice try, Barber," You narrowed your eyes at him, gesturing to the drawers in front of him before you rummaged through the pile of folded clothes on the bottom rack, “Help me search the drawers, please.”

He did as he was told, looking through the first stack before moving on to the next.

There was little progress in your searches but your curiosity was only piqued when out of the corner of your eye, Andy was looking closely at something.

“Did you find it?”

He took a quick breath before answering, “No, but I did find something better.” 

You furrowed your brows, standing up to ask what he meant by that until you caught sight of the familiar skirt he held.

Plaid, grey and extremely short.

Uh oh.

You clasped your hands together in front of your tummy as you stared at the microskirt with wide eyes. You were even failing to notice him slowly breaking into a smirk. He didn’t stop there, reaching into the drawer he was looking into with his other hand to take out the matching tie. Your lips parted, darting your eyes between the article of clothing and the smug look on his face.

“I can explain,” You finally spoke up, your voice softer than you hoped for.

“Please, do,” He held the ends of the untied tie with both hands, “Because I’m pretty sure these are too small to be mine.”

Oh, he was going to have some fun with this.

“Well, it’s, y’know,” You moved your hands around, only to silently plea for him to understand without having you say it, “Andy, c’mon. You know what it is.”

It wasn’t enough for him, though, raising his brows and encouraging you to continue. 

He was clearly enjoying this. A whole lot. 

Unbelievable.

“It’s my old costume.”

He hummed, appraising the garment as he immediately imagined what you would look like in it, “So my pretty girl has a dirty secret of her own. Did you break any necks when you pranced around the neighbourhood in this?” 

“In my defence, I only wore that once, when I was in college, so,” You corrected him, recalling the party you attended in your final year. 

“So, you broke college boys’ necks.” 

“I didn’t say that,” You shook your head in amusement, “I just didn’t have the heart to give it away. It was just one of those rare times where I truly enjoyed living in the city.” 

Though the city wasn’t far from Reve Road, and hell, you’ve even thought about moving back once or twice in your earlier days, truthfully, you haven’t been there in ages, and thank goodness, too. What would life be like if you hadn’t stayed, made a name in the peaceful neighbourhood and met the Barbers?

"Do you miss it?" 

"Sometimes," You mustered a small smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes, "But I had my fun. Grew up to be a city girl, earned my degree and let out my ‘wilder’ side a couple of times. But I love it here more, and if I want to keep my job, the last thing my students and my son need to see when they go trick-or-treating is their Literature teacher in this." 

You shared a hearty laugh. Your wonders about who or what you could’ve been if you stayed in the city were nothing more than a mere curiosity, and even then, it hardly mattered to you now.

“Wouldn’t hurt to relive the old days here in our room.” Oh?

"You can't be serious," You chuckled nervously, "It might not even fit." 

You were lying—you barely looked any different from your college years. You just weren’t sure if you were ready to see his reaction over such scandalous attire.

"All the more reason to try it," He replied confidently, closing the gap between the two of you. His voice deepened as he whispered, "C’mon. You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?" 

Like the gentleman he was, he used your weakness against you.

You knew you were done for when you gulped under his intense stare, cocking his head in the bathroom’s direction. 

You snatched the garments out of his grasp, the ‘deathly’ glare on your face contrasted with his conceited one as you obtained the shirt that came with it out of the same drawer. He continued to hold your gaze even as you closed the door.

Once you were alone, you couldn’t help but let out a silent scream.

You were too embarrassed to even face the mirror as you got dressed, not until you slid on the last piece—the skirt before turning around to look at yourself. You could barely acknowledge the coincidence of covering your face with your hands like a bumbling schoolgirl.

Because that was exactly what you looked like.

You remembered washing the set a couple of times after your first and only wear, and even then, you didn’t think the skirt could shrink that little. Your ass was hanging out of the hem, offering an ample peek at the black bikini brief you had taken with you. 

You came out of the bathroom, ignoring the warmth spreading through your body as you were met with Andy sitting at his side of the bed, shamelessly displaying the prominent tent bulging in his pants.

He hummed in approval before beckoning you to his lap, "Come here." 

You kept your gaze on the ground as you walked over to him, standing in between his legs.

"Come here." He repeated, this time, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he tapped his knee.

You let out the softest whimper, your arms encircling his neck before straddling one of his thick thighs. He rested his hands on your hips, only to run them up and down your body, watching your face already contorting between bashfulness and desire.

“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” 

He pulled you closer, bouncing his knee to rub against your clothed sex. Electricity coursed through your body over the not-so-innocent move, your breathing growing heavier by the second as he teased you further.

“But you haven’t answered my question yet. Did they or did they not stare at you when you wore this?”

He rendered you speechless. You were beginning to think your heart might burst out of your chest at any point. 

“I’m sure they did,” A part of him wanted to be annoyed but miffed was a better way to put it. Not at you, though, he could never. You were just trying to have fun and make the most out of what life had to offer. But if he was there to see you in this the first time you had it, likely showing your wilder side, oh, he couldn’t lie and say you wouldn’t catch his eye either. 

“But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” His hands slid past the hem, lifting it for him to drink in the sight of your curves, “It’s just you and me now.”

You dropped your head on his shoulder, hoping to stifle the moan that threatened to slip past your lips.

“Just imagine me bending you over the bed so I can get a peak of what’s mine underneath,” He sighed dreamily, smiling when your ass jiggled as he grabbed at and squeezed them, “Or should I throw you on the bed and have you on your knees?”

You didn’t answer, too focused on the way he groped your body until you jumped at the resounding crack and the sting that came with it on your left cheek.

"Does it come with thigh highs?" He asked ever so casually as if he wasn’t straining to have you just as much as you were him.

"I-It did, but… I kinda lost it." 

"That's fine. I can always get you a new one," He nosed your jaw, "In fact, I'll buy you more than just a pair. Maybe match some with your panties." 

You mewled, raising your head and granting him access to your neck. 

“You'd do everything your favourite professor tells you to do, wouldn’t you?” 

Fuck.

“Andy, I–” You nearly called him Professor Barber when the sounds of knocking on your door caused you and your husband to freeze up.

"Mom, dad,” It was Jacob, “I think Beemo's been collecting… socks under the couch?" 

Like a fish out of water, your mind was too blank to respond or even acknowledge the question. Thankfully, Andy was able to do it for you, “We’ll be right there!”

The two of you waited until his footsteps receded before you were able to let out a sigh of relief. Andy, on the other hand, had the audacity to chuckle at you. There was no reason for you to worry about scarring Jacob since Andy had already locked the door.

“Very funny.” You murmured sarcastically, moving off him and loosening the tie, hoping to ignore the ache in between your legs for the time being.

“Hilarious,” He cockily added, standing up with an almost pained groan. He stood behind you before wrapping his arms around your waist, “But this isn’t over.”

You stopped.

“I meant what I said about buying you thigh highs with it. Or better yet, some fishnets because my wife’s not so innocent after all.”

Despite getting cockblocked, he was immensely satisfied to see you shiver.

‘Beemo, are you collecting underwear too?’ You heard Jacob ask the cat incredulously, only for a ‘wait!’, followed by his footsteps going down the stairs, probably chasing the feline with whoever’s briefs or undies he had in his mouth. You could only hope it wasn’t yours.

“And, that’s our cue,” His shoulders slumped, only to growl in your ear, “Wear this for me tomorrow after dinner.” 

He then released you with a big smooch on your cheek, exiting the room to find his son, but not before winking at you.

Leaving you to wonder on your own if he’d throw you on the bed or have you on his lap tomorrow.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: now is a good time to say; no, I have yet to come back to the series, but I was too stoked about this event and thought 'hey, this should be the best time!'

» consider it as a mini compensation! but I do want to thank you for still sticking around, just know 'future mrs barber' is nowhere near discontinuing! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

HCs: Stereotypical Barbie, Beach Ken, & Allan reacting to their S/O dressing up as them for Halloween

Note: Made this a little bit "meta" (and by that I mean the characters are aware that their outfits exist as marketable costumes in the Real World).

........

Stereotypical Barbie

Among the many things she learned (and is still learning) about the Real World, it's that the "glorification of rampant consumerism" went beyond her toyline and made a LOT of sense during Halloween.

She never expected to see her western, jumpsuit, and gingham outfits stuffed into bags when you both visit a Spirit Halloween store (although it was neat seeing an entire section dedicated to Barbie).

And she was especially surprised to learn that "Barbie and Ken" were gonna be one of the most popular couples' costumes this year (it's a little awkward for her since she's not with Ken anymore, but she won't complain much).

Speaking of costumes, she never understood why so many of them had to be bloody and scary--or cute, bloody, and scary all rolled into one.

She'll quickly gloss over them and hurry back to the cute costumes, often tugging you along with her before you can protest.

Compared to Barbieland, Halloween is...definitely celebrated differently here.

She still doesn't get why humans would wanna buy fake severed limbs for decorations, nor why they created such scary lifelike robots.

But she does a total 180 when a girl dressed up in her western outfit passes her by on Halloween night, saying "Hi Barbie" with such a big smile on her face.

Suddenly, she likes this holiday a little bit better, especially after seeing other ladies posting their own Barbie-inspired Halloween costumes on social media.

It's the scariest season, and yet there's so much joy going around as she realizes women are still coming together and lifting each other up!

Her happiness only grows when she arrives at your doorstep with candy, and you surprise her by dressing up as a Barbie yourself!

When she realizes you chose one of her outfits specifically, she can't stop gushing over you.

It's touching, especially since she wasn't really a "remarkable" Barbie doll; you literally could have picked any other doll's outfit to inspire your costume...

And yet out of all of them, you wanted to be her.

It genuinely made her feel special and so so loved.

Beach Ken

Like Barbie, he had very different expectations of Halloween.

He learned men were usually the ones who "protected" their partners from the scary stuff. So he tries his best.

Yet he's always the one curling up in your lap and/or hiding his face whenever a mild jumpscare happens in a movie.

But he loves loves loves dressing up for the holiday and decorating (although at times he forgets and will accidentally scare himself if he bumps into the decor--ie hanging bats).

He insists on being a cowboy this year (toy horse stick included) and reaaaally hopes you'll match with him.

Instead, you have a better idea and surprise him by your costume:

It's him!

Or more specifically one of his outfits (beach, dance party, rollerblade, western, kenough hoodie, etc.) that you either picked up online or handcrafted yourself over the course of several months/weeks.

Regardless, he's gonna cry when he realizes that you chose to dress up as him, of all people.

For the longest time, Ken looked towards other people for inspiration, especially when he first learned about the patriarchy.

But to learn that he's YOUR inspiration???

He feels like the luckiest man/doll alive.

Hell, you wore his outfit better than him somehow.

When you both are walking up and down the street, he's delighted seeing other people dressed in his western or rollerblade outfits (never mind them being so cheaply-made and mass produced), glad that the Real World's starting to appreciate Ken again.

But compared to you?

You were a ten.

Allan

He was sorta adamant towards Halloween, at first.

If anything, he worries for your sanity (and perhaps humanity's sanity as a whole) after you showed him some classic horror movies.

Poor guy is just baffled as to why anybody would like seeing that kind of stuff...and how it doesn't keep them wide awake at night.

But once you tell Allan about all the other customs and traditions, he partakes in them--although anything involving blood is a no-go for him.

On Halloween night, you both agree to just kick back and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters.

His "costume" is the outfit he usually had on in Barbieland, but he's worried that it pales in comparison to whatever you're planning to wear.

All you said over text was that it's a "big surprise", so he's anxious to see it.

He's well aware of Barbie and Ken having their own costumes, and he tries not to sulk about there being no Allan costumes in this world.

Yet when he opens the door, he nearly drops the candy bowl upon seeing you wearing a similarly striped shirt, shorts, and sandals.

You decided to dress up as him!! As an Allan doll!!

Now he finally realizes why you've spent hours couped up in your room.

There's a good chance he's gonna get all weepy over this (and frantically claim that it's allergies when a few concerned trick-or-treaters come up to the door a minute later).

But now he takes back whatever he said about nobody in the Real World caring about Allan.

Because you cared.

[creedslove]

Whiskey Intoxication 🥃

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!agent!reader

He's intoxicating, you want him even if it's not healthy, but there's one problem: he doesn't like you 🥃

Summary: you can't help but feel jealous of Whiskey when he sleeps with his target instead of just getting information

Warnings: angst, jealousy, jealous!reader, mentions of smut, unrequited feelings, age gap (not specified, but Whiskey is older than you), sort of depressed Whiskey

A/N: I had this idea after the frustrating attempts I had of roleplaying with Whiskey characters on c.ai; it just didn't work, but I at least this one shot came out of it, lol!

1.8k words

You paced the room, looking out the window and watching the glaring lights from the city at night; checking the time, it read half past midnight and Whiskey still wasn't back. Knowing damn well where he was and what he was doing you shook your head, finally getting rid of your party dress, kicking your heels off and getting on the couch. The hotel room was comfortable, large and fancy, but it felt so empty and the fact your partner hadn't been back only made it worse. It hadn't been long since you started being paired up with Whiskey on missions. It had always been fun and exciting to go on missions with senior Agent Whiskey. He was experienced, fun, and so great at fighting, you were always safe and all your mission results were successful. For quite a while, it had been your favorite kind of job, that was until you noticed Whiskey's usual flirt actually made you giggle, and that his eyes would roam all over your body whenever you were dressed up to go undercover or you would have to hold hands, wear fake wedding rings and occasionally exchange a peck on the lips in public in order to make your cover even more believable, but when you noticed you suddenly felt butterflies in your stomach whenever he was around, how your palms were sweaty and that your heart raced the moment that damn cowboy shot you a beautiful smile. 

Just as your heart clenched every time he gave some other woman the same kind of attention, how he flirted with them, charmed them, placed his hand on their knee at a bar stool or times like these, where he chose to straight up sleep with the target instead of just getting all the information he could and get out as fast as possible. You hated how you never got to be one of Whiskey's girls, perhaps because you wanted to be more than just one night stand. He knew that, he heard you multiple times talking about your desire of having roots, building a family and all that cliche. For a while, you thought you and Jack were the same, judging by the stories you heard about his background you had figured he would want to have a second chance, but you just guessed he didn't. Perhaps the trauma of losing it all was enough for him to make up his mind and decide he didn't want it anymore, it kind of made sense to you why he was just sleeping from woman to woman without any emotional attachments. 

Another situation that really hurt you, was to know that you almost became one of them; it was during your mission to England, you, Jack and the other agent from Kingsman had to go undercover in a music festival, which was actually a pleasant surprise, if it weren't for the fact Jack had been turned down by the target in a way it really embarrassed him, perhaps it started a midlife crisis, you wouldn't be able to tell, but the reality was that in no time you and Jack were back at the hotel, he had your body pressed against the wall as you were both making out inside the elevator. You would probably never forget how your body felt on fire at his mere touch. His cologne lingering on your body, his lips on yours and then on your neck. It was all intoxicating. It was addictive… and just as it had started, it had ended just as abruptly. He let go of your body and cleared his throat, feeling suddenly embarrassed and went straight to his room. After that certain episode, he hadn't said anything else, and you were forced to do the same, pretending it never happened, though your heart and your body ached for another one of his devilish touches. 

You pulled a blanket over your body and sighed at the desperation that grew in your chest. What the hell was going on with you? How could your feelings for Whiskey keep growing even if the rational attitude would stay away as much as possible and perhaps try to go and meet someone else; it was a dead end. You couldn't simply use someone else's feelings in order to get over yours for Whiskey, it was wrong and someone would end up hurt. 

The moment you heard the door unlocked, you took a deep breath, knowing he would be there, smelling like another woman, probably with a shit eating grin and still a little dizzy out of his sex haze. It didn't matter if it was only his business, he still took the opportunity of having his fun. As he walked inside the room just like you had predicted, he kicked off his shoes and began unbuttoning his shirt, well, the rest of it, as he hadn't even bothered buttoning it all the way up in the first place. As he got closer and sat next to you on the couch, you could see the hickeys all over his neck, your stomach twisting at the undeniable proof he'd been with another woman. 

You had never been married, but you'd been desperately in love with a man who didn't think twice before sleeping around, even if he didn't belong to you, just the fact you two had to act as a married couple in front of people had already given you a sense of ownership. It was wrong, but that was how you felt, you felt as if Jack Daniels was your cowboy, your man, and it gutted you to see him so close without actually being able to touch him.

"I'm tired, sugar.." he groaned as he extended his legs and rested his feet on the coffee table 

"I bet you are… getting your dick wet every mission is exhausting" you rolled your eyes at him, not controlling your tone and saw him shake his head, getting up with a groan and taking a step away from you, he never really understood why you would always get so snappy at him the moment he slept with a target; he actually did understand it, he knew you had a crush on him, but he thought you would've figured out he didn't reciprocate the feelings and that you should have done something about it. It just annoyed that cowboy to no end how you were nice and sweet one moment and the next you seemed you couldn't even stand being around him. 

He placed his hands on his hips and took a deep breath, clearly annoyed 

"What's your problem with me, huh? I was doing my job, I got ourselves the leads and information we needed, better than staying here all night sulking like a goddamn spoiled child!" 

He took a step closer, feeling so angry but you scrunched your nose softly and sneezed a couple of times, earning a puzzled look from him 

"You are reeking of that bitch's cheap perfume, Whiskey! Stay away!" You said angrily not needing another allergy crisis kicking in at that moment. He sighed deeply one last time and took his stetson off, locking himself in the bathroom so he could shower and continue his conversation with you. 

Jack stared at himself in the mirror after his shower, seeing the hickeys the target left on his skin and sighed; just because he didn't share the same feelings for you as you did for him, it didn't mean he liked rubbing it on your face. It hurt you, but you also had to understand it was part of the job and if roles were reversed, he would have to accept you sleeping around just the same. You were lying on the bed now, only the nightstand lamps were on, as you kept staring at the fake wedding ring on your left hand, absorbed in your thoughts deeply, barely noticing when the mattress sank next to you at the weight of the cowboy, who sat by your side. 

"Darlin' I'm sorry about earlier, I shouldn't have called you a child" he told you in a soft tone, knowing how much you hated whenever he called you anything related to that, he was older than you, yes, but you were a functional adult who hated when he tried to pull that card on you. 

"When I said I was tired, I wasn't talking about our target, I was talking about this life… this lonely, pointless life" he shrugged and took your left hand into his bigger one, his rough fingers stroking your wedding band distractedly "I just feel lost, like I have no real purpose, I have no one to come back home to, no one to spend all the money I get with, it's just weird…" he confessed, giving you his honest sad eyes, and you softened up. As much as you often felt angry with him because of the unrequited mess of feelings you both were in, you also felt so sorry for him. Jack was still young, he still had time to build a family, find someone to be happy with, instead of dwelling into his loneliness and sadness like he did. 

"I'm sorry Jack… I was harsh to you too, I know it was just part of your job, well, our job and I was selfish" you sighed "but I don't like seeing you like that, you know… upset" 

"Don't worry about me, sugar…" he squeezed your hand gently, his finger still toying with your ring "I'm sure one day you'll be an amazing wife, you're already a great fake wife to me, and I ain't even worthy of you, in our fake marriage, I mean" he chuckled softly "you'll be great at it, and if you ever have kids you'll be an amazing mom, I just know it." 

"Jack, you know you can still have it all, right? I know about what happened, when you were married for the first time, but you can try it again, you can remarry, perhaps even have children, you can start all over again" 

You can start all over again with me. 

You can marry me.

Have kids with me. 

That was what you thought but didn't dare say it. 

"It's too late for me, I already had my happy ending, sugar, I just lost it" he shrugged and got up, walking to the couch and settling down, he was too much of a gentleman to impose his presence in bed with you, even if that was exactly what you craved, even if you couldn't have him whole, you would like to at least have the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, but unfortunately another mission was coming to an end and nothing happened. 

You sighed and buried your face into your pillow, resting your eyes in hopes of dreaming about the man who was right there but so out of reach at the same time. 

____

[daddy-dins-girl]

Pedro Boys - "Zombie Apocalypse Team"

this might be my favourite one yet... keep reading for headcanons!

related posts: Pedro Boys "During a Fire Emergency" Pedro Boys "Nice Argument. Unfortunately," Pedro Boys "Don't Fuck This Up" Pedro Boys "Dad(dy) Matrix" Pedro Boys & Stabbing Pedro Boys "Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic" Pedro Boys "Feral/Sad/Angelic" Pedro Boys Respond to "I love you." Pedro Boys "Character Tropes" Pedro Boys "Gay/Depressed/Horny on Main" Pedro Boys "Dad/THOT/Bastard" Pedro Boys "bring some Coke to the party" Pedro Boys "I Want a Baby" Pedro Boys "As Babysitters" Pedro Boys "As McDonald's Dads" Pedro Boys "in a horror movie" Pedro Boys "Cinnamon Rolls" Pedro Boys "5 Kids, 3 Chairs" Pedro Boys "Playing Monopoly"

Headcanons under the cut!

Leader - Dave York. Simply put, Dave wouldn’t allow anyone else to be in charge of him, regardless if they’d be better suited for it. Some of the others follow him out of fear, others simply because they'd just prefer not to be in charge.

Brawler - Joel Miller. The muscle. Not so great with his words, much better with his fists.

Weapons Expert - Din Djarin. A bonafide space cowboy, this man has it all. Blasters, rifles, flamethrower, jet pack. Evaporating infected before they even see him coming.

Brains - Marcus Moreno. Truly the Team Leader, but he lets Dave hold the title. He has the mutual respect of everyone, is level headed and the glue that holds the whole group together. He advises Dave, but in a way that makes Dave think they’re his own ideas. Marcus doesn't need to take any credit, he just wants everyone to be safe.

Medic - Frankie "Catfish" Morales. He’s no doctor, but he's had enough basic field medical training in his military days to at least be able to patch everyone up better than anyone else on the team. He’d prefer to be the Vehicle Expert but sadly, modes of transportation in the apocalypse are hard to come by.

Moral Support - Marcus Pike. Always looking at the bright side of the apocalypse. He likes to joke “when life hands you cordyceps, make mushroom tetrazzini”.

Scientist - Ezra. Not exactly Einstein, but he knows what berries and plants are safe and which to avoid during long treks through the wilderness. He’s proven himself useful more so than not. Mostly he keeps Dieter from accidentally un-aliving himself.

Risk taker - Max Phillips. Loud and outspoken, Max's mouth is always getting the group into trouble. Good luck to any infected that tries to turn him though, his ego is so big its like a thick candy shell around the vulnerable parts of his brain.

Stealthy - Oberyn Martell. Forget sniping infected from 100 yards away, this man simply sneaks up behind them and with some flourishing footwork they're on the ground with any sharp object he could get his hands on slicing through the flesh of their throat. He's also stealthy in the way he manages to slip into the others' sleeping bags without them evening realizing at the time that they want him to, but that's a headcanon for another post...

Dumbass - Dieter Bravo. It's not that he wants to die, it's just that he seems to occasionally forget that he can't just eat the fungus as if it came in a Ziplock bag that he use to pay 40 bucks a pop for.

Badass - Javier Peña. This man just continuously takes down infected as if they might actually come to an end. He knows that as quickly as he takes down one colony, four more spring up, but he's stubborn and refuses to stop trying, regardless of how tired he is of it all.

Mascot - Javi Gutierrez. He is babygirl. To be protected at all costs.

Distraction - Jack "Whiskey" Daniels. A real root-tootin, gun-blazin cowboy. Jack never needs to be asked twice to go put on a spectacle in the middle of an open field, gathering all the attention so the rest of the group can flank all sides under brush cover. He seems to have nine lives too, narrowly escaping death more times than any other. And he can handle his own. He argued for the spot of Weapons Expert but ultimately was swayed when he realized being the distraction actually meant being the center of attention.

Stereotype - Pero Tovar. One look at this man screams "if anyone was going to survive a zombie apocalypse, it's him"

Sacrifice - Dio. Look, it was his idea. The weird part was that nobody even asked him to.

First Dead - Eddie. It's just facts. In a long line of Pedro Boys deaths, someone had to be first.

Reply or reblog with your own headcanons, I'd love to hear them :)

[interstellar-wanderer]

Theory about The Ghoul/Cooper: Highly influenced and vulnerable to dishonesty.

Cooper Howard trusts deeply in the people he loves and the idea of the American Dream that was sold to him during the Sino-American war. He fought for those ideals, his country and the people he loved, and before the Great War and drop of the bombs he can't stand any other perspective for his own sanity.

The problem is, he is not a very good actor you see. He usually creates the character of a highly dignified cowboy because it is a projection of what he wants for himself, an ideal version of a man, openly criticizing the choice of the character not doing what he would do in real life (shooting someone), and in his other movie, he plays a role of a man with a dog, with the help of his own dog and not another random dog, I believe because he wanted to portray his own relationship with his loved pet rather than a random role.

He lives his characters and roles, to the point of turning one of them when becoming the Ghoul, this lone cowboy and bounty hunter hurt by his past and tired of the cruelty and dishonesty around the Wasterland.

He uses his emotions and all his heart for his roles and forgets everything else because through his roles he is showing a part of himself in the process, but with the consequence of leaving nothing to protect himself, because he has never created a facade around his person, he is honest and true, th same way we see The Ghoul as he is, no lies nor attempts at dishonesty; he is clear with his intentions to the very end.

But because of this, Cooper is vulnerable and ignorant to true deep dishonesty, to someone who would straight up lie to his face, to someone living two parallel life at the same time. He prides himself on knowing his wife's true motivations and never thinking bad about her, he also sees Lucy and believes her just as transparent but never thought of her surviving SnipSnip.

When Barb showed her real colors during the Vault-Tec meeting, declaring they should drop the bombs themselves, he broke in such a way he went into shock. One would believe he is in fact a good actor, and would try to be good in hiding it, but I would say Barb was a better one by playing two roles at the same time God knows how long and Cooper suspecting nothing of such. This happens when:

1) she convinces him to pose as Vault boy and be part of their promotional campaign

2) then when she invites everyone to the wrap party to their house without telling him, subsequently not showing remorse at him being abandoned by his Hollywood friends

3) then gatekeeping him regarding her status as worried housewife during the war in Anchorade and how stupid his idea of a ranch was

4) ultimately convincing him to accept his dog should go (something we all know made him suspect of Vault-tec and her), for the sake of their security.

But this caused a drift between them, him starting to suspect something was up when she told him they wouldn't be safe if they buy a bunker themselves because it wouldn't work, then trying hard to "put everyone in one of the GOOD vaults, one which would oversee all others".

This is when his world started to crumble. Not only her lying, but she not trusting him enough with the real truth of their situation, manipulating him instead with a dishonest facade.

The worst part is that it is very likely she knows this about him, his soul is rooter in honesty, fairness, and dignity, do the right thing the same way Lucy envisioned before coming out of Vault 33. He doesn't expect his wife to lie to him or represent a version of the world he fought against, he doesn't expect his country to betray him regarding their safety.

We can understand now why he became such a bitter man, and why he seems to avoid the old version of himself.

Maybe he thinks, if he had known, if he hadn't trusted so damn much, if he hasn't been so vulnerable and hasn't opened his heart expecting the same back, maybe he could have done something to stop it all.

Now every time he looks back, he seems to hate the man he was so very much.

[mvltisstuff]

hello!! i absolutely love, love love, your buck fics, cowboy like me was so good. i was wondering if i can request a fic? buck and reader are best friends too stubborn to realize their feelings and have to share a bed for some reason, buck for some reason knows this trope and prepares themself like “i can do this, they’re my best friend it won’t be weird” so morning comes and he wakes up but they’re not cuddling and he gets gets disappointed and that’s how he realizes his feelings and maybe a confession. thank you if you do this but no worry if you don’t get to it. take care ❤️

sweet nothing - e.b

summary: basically for the request above :)

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i was so so happy to see that someone requested something and i hope you enjoy it! 🩶🩶 i’ve never done a one bed trope before so hang in there. i’ll be editing this a little later as i am going out but i wanted to get this up for you!

edit: omg i lowkey read this wrong i’m so sorry i can def write it again if you’re not a fan of it

y/n and buck have known each other for years, working together at the station. they meshed so well together and they realized that their connection might be stronger than a normal one between co-workers.

they started hanging out more and more, going to bars and getting dinner. they’d go to parties together and they talked all the time. having to deal with the repercussions of being a first responder, they found comfort in each other. after a death or near a death, they’d go back to someone’s place, hoping to bring normality back to the day. the bad days and the good days, they were always there.

it’s hard for buck not to get attached to someone so easily after dealing with people leaving. he never received affection from his mother or father, and his sister leaving so soon changed his view on things. his ego might be big, but it’s not big enough to prevent him from clinging to someone who shows him an ounce of love.

they were scarily similar, and they knew it. that’s why they were friends. they could talk to each other and actually understand each other after not having anyone for years.

they both know they’re more than friends, and everyone at the firehouse teases them anyway. buck normally has no problem with admission, taking girls home and letting them forget him the next day. he cannot admit his feelings for y/n after all these years. whether it be encouragement from eddie or bobby, the fear of ruining the best relationship he’s ever had outweighs that.

after a crazy day off, driving around the city and doing anything they can imagine, they realize how late it is and start to drive home. bucks mood of the night goes from pure happiness to dread. he doesn’t want it to be over, because any time that is spent with her is more time that he feels like nothing could stop him.

“buck, where are we?” y/n asks in the passenger seat of his jeep.

“oh, we’re um… at the place i went a few weeks ago. i just-“

“don’t know how to get back?” she finished his sentence and he gives her a look.

“yes, i do actually! we just have to go down that freeway.” he tries fixing the situation, not wanting to leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere. “ok, i have no clue where we are, but it’s fine! we have google maps.” buck pulls out his phone and sits on the app for minutes, praying that the little loading sign goes away. some small part of him wants to turn on airplane mode and hope she doesn’t notice, so they can stay together for a little while longer. she looks over to the phone and sighs.

“just pull up to that gas station over there. i have to pee.” she says, and he starts driving over to the dark gas station with the 24-hour sign. after she runs in, she runs back out with a ton of snacks and drinks.

“i thought you were just using their bathroom?”

“what? it’s just a few snacks, what’s wrong with that?” she laughs and throws them back into the car as he’s waiting outside too, filling his tank.

“did you buy a map in there too?”

“very funny, buck. like you can read a damn map.”

“i could if we were stranded somewhere! and oh, take a look around.” he acknowledges the fact that they don’t know where they are, but can still make fun of each other and laugh.

“listen, let’s just drive around for a bit and see what we find.” y/n recommends. buck grumbles and gets back into his car, turning on the engine.

it mutters and doesn’t turn on, he tries again and realizes it’s not going anywhere. he keeps playing around with it before y/n interrupts him. “i think it’s broken, buck.”

“it’s a jeep, it’s fine!” he says, trying to defend his precious car.

“ok, well. i’m gonna go inside and ask where any hotels are.” y/n says, and buck runs his hand down his face.

“get a bag of doritos while you’re at it.”

after minutes of waiting, y/n comes out of the gas station and walks over to the car. “did you call a truck?”

“yeah, they’ll be here soon.”

“well, get your walking stick, partner because the nearest hotel is a mile away.” she says sarcastically, grabbing her stuff out of his car.

————————————————————————

“we’re sorry, ma’am but all our two guest rooms are full for tonight,” the hotel receptionist tells them.

“shit, ok. do you have any other available rooms?” buck peeps in and asks.

“we have a one person room on floor 3, it has a full bathroom and everything.” after the exhaustion of the night and having to walk around looking for this hotel, they basically will crash anywhere.

“we’ll take it.” they both say simultaneously.

they climb up the the room with their arms full of stuff they don’t even need. they swing open the door and make their way inside. “ladies first,” buck says, leaning against the door.

“thank you very much, sir.” y/n replies and places some of their goodies on the tv stand. “this is nice, i guess! we could fit in here if we really wanted to.”

“yeah, i can stay on the floor and you take the bed.” y/n laughs at his request and he gives her a confused expression.

“really, buck. we all know you’re picky about your sleeping situations. take the bed. i’m fine on the floor. ladies always take the bed.” she smirks at him.

“oh, well if you put it like that, i’ll take it,” he says, throwing himself on the bed. “you’re gonna sleep in jeans?”

“well, i didn’t bring an overnight bag. it’s fine, it’s just for one night.”

“i have en extra shirt in my car, just wear that. it’s big on me, so it’ll be like a dress!” he tells her. “a nightgown for the queen herself, if i must say.”

“you didn’t bring it in? you even brought your med kit?”

“you never know, y/n. what if you cut yourself open? you never. know.” he jokes.

“whatever,” she smiles and laughs. “i’m going to wash my face and i’m going to bed.” she walks into the bathroom and buck stays on the bed. he doesn’t want to leave her on the floor, but he doesn’t know if he could contain his thoughts if they slept together. that sounds really awful, but that might make him spit out words he doesn’t want her to know.

when she comes back out, buck is stripped of his shirt and left in his pants. her heart rate noticeably speeds up, and she doesn’t really know what to say. she’s seen him without a shirt, but spending the night together? she’s in for a hell of a night. her mouth is slightly open, and she closes it again, realizing he’s looking right at her. “like what you see?” he says, looking up from his phone. she shakes her head and turns around. she pulls on his massive shirt and now it’s his turn to have an internal freak out.

seeing his name on her back and his shirt on her body might send him into arrest. her soft hair falls down her back after she pulls out her bun and she runs her hands through it. buck looks around at her body, her shoulders peeking out through the top and the neckline down. he shakes his head and forces his eyes to look back down at his phone. she gets down on the floor, pulling the blanket over her and laying on the few that she placed under her. “g’night, buck. go to sleep.”

“n-night, y/n.”

————————————————————————

buck stays on the bed the whole night, being able to sleep peacefully in the quiet room. y/n on the other hand, feels like she’s gonna fall through the floor. she hates the floor, she would’ve taken the bed, but his comfort was more important to her.

she loves him, she really does, but both of their stubbornness and lack of acknowledgement of their feelings prevents her from making any moves. but she swears this hard, itchy rug might be the death of her.

buck feels the corner of the blanket get pulled up, and a light hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his slumber. “move over, i cant stay on this rug.”

even the deep sleep he was in couldn’t keep his mind from going places. he was so happy, probably too happy. “yeah-yeah, of course.” he says, moving his body. he was wide awake now, turning to face her. “you know, i’m really happy we got stuck here together.”

her faces reveals a bright smile and buck can still see through the darkness of the room. “me too.”

they both turn over and fall asleep, trying to quiet the thoughts in their head. the ones that have been begging to be released for months.

when they wake up in the morning, y/n feels so much better. the sun was shining lightly through the shades and she rubs her eyes. she looks over and buck, whos much closer than she thought.

she realizes their closeness, his arms wrapped around her and their legs tangled together. her head is right next to his, their foreheads practically touching.

she thought about moving from her spot, it physically, she couldn’t bring herself to. the warmth of bucks body brought a whole new feeling. she felt at peace, which sounds silly but she felt like she could take on anything as long as he was there. it was her opportunity to be with him, being as close as ever.

he woke up from his own sleep, eyes fluttering open and his breaths were deep and slow. he looked up at her, and smiled when he saw how close they were to each other. “hey,” he says, with a raspy voice morning voice and y/n feels grateful to even hear one word.

“hi,” she whispers back to him. “sleep well?”

“i slept great, i wonder why,” he looks around and then lands his eyes back on her. “i’m glad you’re here.”

“you know, i kinda thought i was dreaming when i woke up,” she speaks. “i’m glad i wasn’t.”

“i’m glad you weren’t dreaming too.” he pulls her in, wrapping his arm around her lower back. he leans in, planting a sweet kiss on her lips. they stay in this position for a while, taking the time to spend with each other after waiting the past few years in hiding.

“uh… we should probably, um, get up?” she smiles and is practically speechless. she tries to form the words but really doesn’t want to go anywhere.

“nah, let’s stay here.” he pulls her in and rolls over her, but keeping his weight off. they whisper sweet nothings at each other and she giggles at his soft kisses all over, finally relieved that they can be together without the fear of ruining something great.