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falloutkeiji · 2 years

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4 times eddie calls you sweetheart + 1 time he actually means it

words: 1.7k

characters: eddie munson x gn! reader

warnings: mentions of drug use (weed), light drinking, cursing, use of the nickname “sweetheart,” implied panic attack, the tiniest bit of angst

notes: this is my first fic pls be gentle w/ me. this is a play on the fic trend from a while ago that was like 4 + 1 things. anyway. hope u enjoy my blorbo writing

pt. 2

✰ the first time ✰

the smell of weed, tobacco, and incense hit your nose as you crossed the threshold into eddie’s room.

he plopped himself on his bed with a grin and flipped his black lunchbox open with a flourish.

“so…” he starts, drawing out the vowels way longer than he needs to. “what can i do for ya on this fine day?” he says in a faux professional voice.

the smirk on his face is playful, and he waves his hands in front of the dingy lunchbox as if he’s showing it off.

you play along with his bit, standing up straighter and pretending to be in deep thought. “i’ll take your finest product, sir. the best herbs you have on the market,” you reply.

eddie throws his head back with a raucous laugh, his hair falling behind his shoulders with the motion. you watch as his eyes squint shut and his mouth falls open as he shakes with the laughter. you really didn’t think what you said was all that funny, but the thought fades away as you watch him laugh unabashedly.

as his laughter dies down into small snorts, he grabs a small baggie of prerolled joints.

you stare at the bag in his hand, not making any motion to grab it. “what’s this? this isn’t what i’ve gotten from you the last like, 4 times.”

eddie’s grin grows on one side, and he waves the bag back and forth in the space between you two. “oh, you know. just wanted to make things easier, since you can’t roll for shit, sweetheart.”

it’s obvious he’s just trying to irritate you, but the knowledge doesn’t stop the flush from rising up your neck. you snatch the bag from him, muttering “asshole” under your breath, but you’re secretly thankful he went through the work of rolling your weed for you.

✰ the second time ✰

“welcome to music and more!”

eddie’s bored voice echoes through the empty store. he’s bent over the counter at the front, hair falling in front of his face as he writes quickly in a notebook.

it’s evident that he only heard the bell ring at your entrance and hasn’t seen you come in, so you stroll quietly up to the counter.

standing directly in front of him now, you can see his eyelashes fan over his cheekbones as he doodles characters for his next campaign. the action is so endearing that you want to scream and cry, but you watch him silently for a minute before clearing your throat.

“ahem, sir. i would like to speak to the manager.”

eddie’s head shoots up, a look of annoyance quickly fading into relief when he sees that it’s you standing there. “oh, thank fucking god. you scared the shit out of me there for a second.”

“whatcha drawing, munson? something nerdy, i presume?”

he glares at you before snatching his notebook away. “anyway,” he shouts, fixing the store lanyard that hangs around his neck. “why are you here?” he says suspiciously.

you gasp at him, hand against your chest in offense. “so rude, eddie. so rude. how dare you speak to a paying customer like that? i should have you fired for this.”

he grins at you, leaning up against the counter before replying. “i think you’re actually here because you can’t resist my epic salesman charisma, sweetheart.”

the flush returns to your face at that stupid fucking pet name, and you reach over the counter to punch him in the arm.

the conversation is dropped when, in typical eddie fashion, he collapses in a fit of dramatics onto the floor.

✰ the third time ✰

the awakening truly happens the third time he calls you sweetheart.

you’re packed into a dingy bar, surrounded by your small group of tipsy friends and a larger group of older, drunker men.

you’re stuck at a sticky barstool, waiting for the person you came for to get their ass on the stage. but, as is to be expected, the man of the hour is late.

30 minutes past their listed starting time, eddie and his band strut onto the stage.

for the next 30 minutes, your jaw is on the (beer-covered) floor.

you’d seen eddie practice before, had seen him singing and playing in his room and had even seen him practice with the rest of corroded coffin, but this was different.

eddie was up on that stage, hair teased up and eyes lined in black. his energy was electric as he played his guitar and banged his head to the song that you were, frankly, not even listening to.

the entire set passed in a daze, and you barely snapped out of it when eddie came bounding up to you after the show.

he was all giddy with excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet. his hair was all over the place, and his eyeliner was smudged due to sweat, but you thought he had never looked prettier.

his excited grin turned teasing when he saw your awestruck expression. “seems like you enjoyed the show, sweetheart.”

if your face burned up, it could be blamed on the alcohol.

✰ the fourth time ✰

you had been avoiding eddie.

it had just become too much.

it was the one too many “sweethearts” that he so casually threw at you, but it was also, like, everything about him.

it was the fact that he was such a nerd and so passionate about his interests that he didn’t care. it was the fact that despite his flair for the dramatics, he was so sweet all the time, especially to you. it was the fact of his beautiful, stupid fucking hair and his pretty, stupid fucking smile and his hot, stupid fucking rings.

it was a wonder that you hadn’t fallen for him already in the years that you two had been friends. but now, you were at a complete loss.

you couldn’t do this to him. you were one of eddie’s only loyal, unconditional friends. you couldn’t put yourself in a place where you were lying to him and expecting more from him than what he could give you.

despite your better judgment and the churning nausea in the pit of your stomach, you grabbed your house phone and dialed a number you’d known by heart for years.

“hi, thank you for calling the munson residence! you kill ‘em, we grill ‘em! this is eddie speaking, how may i be of assistance to you?”

the anxiety you felt couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat at eddie’s greeting. it was a running joke for eddie to answer the phone with a different, equally ridiculous greeting each time.

“hi eddie. it’s me,” you speak quietly.

“oh hello! i should’ve recognized your laugh anywhere. to what do i owe the pleasure today, sweetheart?”

there it was again. that stupid fucking nickname. the reason that you had to make this call in the first place. the reason that your heart was racing and you felt bile rising up your throat.

and it wasn’t just the nickname. his casual tone caught you off guard and made you want to hang up the phone and forget this ever happened. you had expected him to be mad at your week-long avoidance, but his tone made it seem like he didn’t notice, or simply didn’t care. how was he still fucking flirting?

after an awkwardly long pause, you remembered that he had asked a question and was definitely still expecting an answer. “um. can we- can i come over?”

✰ + the first time he means it ✰

being in his room makes things like exponentially worse.

you’re surrounded by eddie. his entire soul is bared across the small room, with his band and movie posters, with his band shirts strewn across the room, with his notebooks filled with drawings and lyrics, with his guitar, with him.

“so….” he starts, twirling his hair around his finger and holding it to his face. “what did ya wanna talk about?”

he’s visibly nervous, if the hair twirling and leg shaking is anything to go by. you feel bad for making him nervous, but your own nerves are making it impossible to say what you need to say.

after a good minute of silence, he opens his mouth again. “swee-“

“that,” you cut him off.

he drops his hair, moving his fingers to play with his rings. “what?” he asks, his eyebrows raising up into his bangs in confusion.

“that. that fucking word, eddie. stop calling me that.”

“sweetheart?”

“yes, eddie, fuck.”

he looks at you for a while before speaking. he seems hesitant, not knowing exactly how to react to your outburst. “i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable. i really am. that was never my intention. i was just messing with you.”

frustrated tears fill your eyes. “that’s the problem, eds. that’s the fucking problem. that you’re just “messing” with me. i don’t want you to just be messing with me. i really, really like you. i didn’t realize it until you started calling me sweetheart and it made me so flustered and i didn’t know why it made me so flustered but it’s because i fucking really like you and i’m sorry and i really didn’t want to ruin our friendship so if you don’t wanna speak to me again that’s fine i just can’t handle it anymore and i just had to tell you. i’m sorry.”

at this point, the tears are fully streaming down your face. your breathing is labored, both from the anxiety and the long-winded rambling. you shut your eyes so hard you see colors because you can’t stand to see eddie’s reaction.

you flinch when you feel a warm pressure wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “breathe for me. in and out, you got it,” he says quietly, gently resting his hand on your shoulder.

it’s after a few minutes of his coaxing that you finally relax. once he feels you stop hyperventilating, he leans back to look at you. “so… if i tell you that i’m not just messing with you, can i start calling you sweetheart again?” despite the casual air of his words, he is back to twirling his hair and avoiding your gaze.

you glare at him half-heartedly. “and what is that supposed to mean?”

“it means that i like you too, dumbass.” despite this brash confession, eddie’s face is flushed with color as he grabs your hand in his. he kisses your palm, and you pretend not to shiver when he whispers “sweetheart” into your skin.

🏷: @pupkou

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #gn!reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x gn reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fluff #tw drugs #drugs tw #tw drinking #drinking tw

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saintchaser · 8 months

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sirius black headcanons because i am having intense brainrot over him

after he ran away from home, he fooled around with a muggle london boy. with his help, he got his first job (either a bartender or a mechanic, i’m not sure)

has a thing for men with light-coloured hair

pretty intimidating

effortlessly the top of the class, he never studies but always gets the best grades. has both great short-term and long-term memory, lily is absolutely jealous of him for that

is actually pretty good with kids, but he’s a bit scared of them and of the possibility that he might hurt them

has an abnormally high pain tolerance

and a high alcohol tolerance, too. it does take him a while to get drunk, but when he does, he’s absolutely hammered, and has the worst hangovers in the world

gave himself piercings and tattoos with needles in the dorm’s bathroom

has absolutely no sense of shame

his love language (receiving) is physical affection, but he was slightly averse to being touched at first

never wears his uniform properly, the neatest he will ever look is have his tie loosened

had a pretty good relationship with walburga as a child. he was definitely his mother’s son through and through, they looked and acted alike, too. walburga was devastated when sirius ran away

chainsmoker, and his fingers always smell like cigarettes

manspreads (remus finds that hot)

tall

#he’s also bi if you wanted to know #also these are like. just my hcs </3 #sirius black #sirius black headcanons #headcanons #drinking tw #tw drinking #nicotine tw #tw nicotine #just to. add those just in case #i love him so much it’s unreal i need to study him under a microscope

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 2 months

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You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This.... (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Fandom: Outer Range, Rhett Abbott, f!reader Summary: You and Rhett have a unique friendship. Every time you go out with a group, you end up getting drunk, dancing, and making out with him only to then wind up going home with other people. But what happens when Rhett asks you to dance before either of you has had a drink.... Word Count: 3744 TW: Fluff, Kissing, Love Confession, Drinking, Mentions of drunk making out, Mentions of drunk dancing, Language Notes: For @ohtobeleah's Galentine's Day Special based on "You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This" by Toby Keith (RIP 😔💗)

Despite the relatively early hour, the bar was busier than usual even for a Saturday night. You had forgotten there was some big sports thing that weekend the next town over so the overabundance of unfamiliar faces blending into the sea of regulars was a bit of a shock when you first arrived with your friends but—miraculously—the six of you managed to stake your claim on a table not too far from where you usually sat.

However, you had struggled to squeeze through the crowd and since everyone else was already sitting when you finally caught up, it was unanimously decided you should fight your way back up to the bar to get the first round of drinks. You put up a brief mock protest before surrendering to the peer pressure, but secretly, you didn’t mind. It gave you a chance to scope out the space and see if any of the out-of-towners caught your eye. Your town wasn’t small per se, but even in a medium-sized pond, there were only so many fish. So when there was a chance at some fresh blood, why not take advantage?

What seemed like an eternity later, you pushed your way back to your friends and practically threw the beers onto the table before collapsing into the booth. While you had enjoyed watching all the new potential hookups around you, you had also been relentlessly jostled, had beer spilled on your boots, and had three separate guys grab your ass before claiming it was an “accident” due to the crowd. And all just to get a crappy $7 beer. Ridiculous.

As you took your first drink, you finally realized only five people were sitting around the table instead of six. Nudging Parker who was sitting next to you, you leaned over and shouted above the music, “Where’d Rhett go?”

She shrugged dismissively, her attention locked on some douchy-looking frat bro eye-fucking her from a few tables away. “I don’t know. He said something about going to help you with the drinks or something.”

“Well, I never saw him.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll find his way back. Or not.” She pointed at the frat bro, signaling the end of her interest in your questions. “What do you think about him?”

Without glancing back over, you deadpanned, “I think if you let him even touch you, you should get tested in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes at you before sitting up straighter as she bit her lip and coyly waved at the frat bro, clearly dismissing you.

You caught Alec’s eye over the top of Parker’s head and you both tried to suppress a chuckle. Parker infamously made the worst choices when it came to men and she only dug her claws in deeper when any of you tried to talk her out of them, so it was better to just let her do whatever she was going to do and help her deal with the consequences afterward.

Relaxing back in your seat, you took another long drink from your beer. It was now almost half empty and just the thought of wading back through the crowd for another one made you internally groan. Though you could probably convince Alec to go since you got the first round but that would involv–

Your internal conversation was cut off as you spotted Rhett pushing his way through the crowd towards the table. Sitting up, you smiled at him. “Oh, there you are. I thought you might have gotten trampled by the mob of people or something. Your beer’s getting war–”

“Come dance with me.”

You were taken aback as he thrust out his hand to help you up from the table.

It was a given at this point that by the end of the night, you and Rhett would end up hammered, uninhibited, and viciously making out in the middle of the dance floor. It’s what happened every time you went to the bar: You’d both drink, you’d both dance together, you’d both get all hot and bothered, and you’d both find someone else to take you home for the night. It was a strange system but it worked. Parker once joked that you were each other’s fluffers, just getting things ready for your real targets for the night. And while you would prefer to phrase it somewhat more tastefully, she wasn’t exactly wrong. Plus, you had found that a lot of guys (and girls in Rhett’s case) loved watching you making out with someone else, rubbing your body all over theirs, just for you to go home with them instead. It seemed as if the two of you weren’t the only ones getting fluffed in this situation.

However, neither you nor Rhett ever stepped foot on the dance floor until you’d finished at least three or four beers. He was fairly shy and reserved when sober and you both were very self-conscious of your dancing before getting at least slightly buzzed. Yet you were currently only halfway through beer number one and his first beer still sat unopened on the table next to you. Rhett might have pre-gamed on his own before you, Tara, and Spencer picked him up, but he seemed completely sober so you couldn’t imagine what he was thinking.

“I–but we–I mean…”

Rhett smiled as he leaned in close to be heard over the music. “It’s just a dance, sweetheart. It ain’t anythin’ we don’t do every week.”

“Bu-but what about our drinks?”

“I’m sure Parker—” he took one glance at your friend sitting next to you still making “do-me” eyes at the frat boy and corrected his statement “—Tara wouldn’t mind keepin’ an eye on ‘em.”

“You two go,” Tara said, smiling from where she was sitting with Spencer’s arm draped across her shoulders. “Your drinks will still be here when you get back.”

“Well…maybe,” Spencer muttered just loud enough to be heard over the music as he eyed Rhett’s untouched beer.

Tara elbowed her boyfriend with a scowl before turning back to you and gesturing for you to go. Still confused about the change in your routine, you took Rhett’s hand and let him help you to your feet. As he led you towards the dance floor, you turned your head just in time to see Tara and Spencer laughing and shaking their heads as they watched the two of you leave. Then Spencer reached for Rhett’s beer but Tara slapped his hand away.

You knew your friends didn’t understand this weird arrangement you and Rhett had fallen into—hell, it barely made sense to you. They were all convinced as they watched you week after week that the two of you were falling in love. They never believed you’re just friends having a little drunken fun.

Not that you hadn’t ever considered Rhett as a potential love connection. The first night you met him, that was where you thought things were headed. He had finally had enough of his toxic home life back in Wyoming and was looking for a fresh start somewhere new. So when a contact from his time bull-riding who lived in town offered him a job, he jumped at the opportunity.

You met him a few days later in this very bar when you saw him sitting all alone in the back corner. Of course, you noticed his classic-cowboy good looks, but what really caught your eye was how nervous and shy he seemed, his eyes mostly trained on the beer in front of him except when they occasionally shifted around the bar uncertainly. It wasn’t as if he were scared of someone seeing him or that he was on the run from something. No. He looked like a kid on his first day of school who wasn’t sure of where to sit at lunch.

So, you had gone and sat down at his table with two beers and a friendly smile. It took quite a bit of patience and coaxing, but Rhett eventually began to open up to you. Then, just as you were going to make the move to his side of the booth, your friends found you and asked for an introduction. By the end of the night, Rhett had slipped naturally into the gang and it felt weird pursuing him in any romantic way after that. After all, you could see how much he needed a support system in this new town and you didn’t want to take that from him for a one-night fling.

Which was why when you found yourselves sloppily making out in the middle of the dance floor a few weeks later and he just brushed it off like it was nothing, you didn’t push it or question it. And when it happened again, and again, and again, it just felt like a routine or a tradition and you never looked deeper into it.

But now Rhett had suddenly changed things up and you still had no idea why.

Once you reached the dance floor, Rhett pulled you in close and the two of you began to dance. There were so many people around you that you couldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction, but since you usually just rubbed against each other while making out, it shouldn’t have been an issue. However, without the usual buzz from the drinks, you were way too in your head about every move you made. Your usual fluid, natural movements felt stiff and robotic, and all you could think about was where Rhett’s hands were or what part of him was pressed against you at any given time. It was a disaster.

The song ended and a soft, melodic tune began to play. Slow songs were pretty rare but they were always the perfect opportunity for another drink, and boy did you need one. You turned to brave the crowd around the bar once more, however, Rhett’s fingers slipped into yours and he spun you back into his arms.

A half grin pulled at the corner of his mouth as he saw your surprised face and he asked, “You rushin’ off already? We just got out here.”

“In case I’m the only one who has noticed, I’m not really feeling this right now. And besides, we don’t do slow dances.”

“Tonight we do.” He must have seen the hesitation still on your face because he squeezed your hand. “Come on. You can tough it out for one song, then they’ll play somethin’ fast we can move to and you’ll get into the flow of it. Otherwise, you’ll just be waitin’ in that line for the rest of the night.”

Even pressed against him and over the softer melody of the slow music, the deep timbre of his voice was still difficult to hear but you knew he was right. By the time you made it through the crowd of people to reach the bar for another drink, many upbeat songs would have passed and there was a good chance you’d be ticked off by your waiting experience just like the first time. Instead, you could just stick it out here with Rhett and you’d be back to your usual dancing in mere minutes. And he was probably right. Given a few more songs, you’d probably figure out this sober dancing thing and actually enjoy yourself. So, somewhat reluctantly, you nodded to signal you’d stay.

Apparently, many of the people around you had the same thought you originally did because the crowds around you began to thin out giving you and Rhett a little more room to maneuver. The two of you were swaying together slowly and you have to admit it’s a nice change from your usual high-energy grinding.

Then as the music began to swell, he surprised you by spinning you out and when you twirled back into him, Rhett placed his hand on the center of your back and pulled you tight until you were pressed firmly against his chest. You looked up–unsure of what he was doing–just as his other hand brushed across your cheek to settle on the nape of your neck. One of the colored lights flashed across his face, illuminating the intensity deep within his eyes as he stared at you, and you felt your heart skip a beat as time seemed to freeze around you.

But that was silly. This was Rhett. You shouldn’t feel this fluttering in your chest or tingling where his skin brushed yours. He was your good friend, someone you had made out with every week and barely gave it a second thought. So why was there this different feel about him tonight? Why couldn't you take your eyes off his lips, why was your head spinning, and why were your knees growing weak? And why didn’t you want it to stop?

Then, using the hand on the back of your neck to tilt your head, Rhett’s lips were suddenly on yours.

Electricity shot right through you as every nerve in your body seemed to light up at once. It felt like you had just jammed a fork into an electrical socket but in the best of ways. This was unlike any kiss you had ever shared with Rhett—with anyone—before. Usually, your kisses with Rhett were drunken, and sloppy, and uncoordinated. But this…Rhett was as sober as you ever see him, and every curl of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, it all felt so fluid, almost choreographed. As if he had planned for this moment for ages.

Your eyes drifted closed as you let yourself sink deeper into his embrace. You could no longer tell if you were standing still or spinning around and around and around as a dizzying fog enveloped your mind. For a few seconds, you didn’t even know where you were at. All that existed was you and Rhett and the kiss.

But then you shifted, the top of your head bumping into the brim of his hat almost knocking it off, and the spell was broken. Rhett pulled away, fixing his hat, and leaving you clinging to him for support as the world came rushing back to you. The slow song was still playing and crowds of people around you still occasionally bumped into you as they danced, And yet, from the moment Rhett’s lips touched yours, everything had changed.

But had he felt it too?

With your face still just a few inches away from his, you chuckled softly. “You know, you really shouldn’t kiss me like this.”

“An’ why’s that?”

“You might give a girl the wrong impression. Make her start thinking lots of crazy things.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. He just gave you that same intense stare he had just before the kiss and you felt your heart begin to speed up once more. Then, in a voice you could only just make out over the music, he asked, “What if that’s the point? What if I’m tired of waitin’ for her to figure out how I feel?”

All the air was sucked out of your lungs as his revelation drove into your chest like a fist. “Rhett…”

“No…No…” Before you could process what he was saying, he shook his head and stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides as he released his hold on you. “’m sorry. I shouldn’t—I’m doin’ this all wrong. But I couldn’t take another week of you wrapped in my arms, your lips on mine, just to then watch you go home with someone else. I just…I just wanted you to know. ‘m sorry.”

He started to hurry off the dance floor but this time it was your turn to grab his arm to stop him from leaving. His eyes flickered up to yours and you saw that all the confidence and certainty that had been there before had been extinguished, leaving only fear behind. You knew it was the same fear you were feeling right now: fear of this changing everything; fear of this ruining your friendship; fear of what came next.

Sliding your hand into his and linking your fingers, you muttered, “Come here” before leading him off the dance floor and back towards the rear of the building. There was a separate concert area back there that they only opened for shows so you knew it was one of the few places in the bar that would give you some semblance of privacy.

Once there, you ducked into the empty space and shut the door. You could still feel the vibrations from the music and hear the dull thumping, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been before. In here, at least you and Rhett wouldn’t need to shout to be heard.

Now that you were alone, neither one of you seemed to know what to say or how to start. You both shifted slightly as you glanced at each other. Finally, Rhett rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Listen, can we just forget any of that happened? I don’t want things to be weird between us and ‘m sorry if—”

“No, I’m sorry,” you said, cutting him off. “I was just a little surprised by that kiss and what I said didn’t come out right. But what I should have said, what I meant to say—” you stepped forward until you were brushing up against him, placing your hands on his chest. “—was ‘you shouldn’t kiss me like this…unless you mean it like that’.”

Rhett’s long eyelashes fluttered several times in quick succession and you saw his Adam’s apple bob wildly out of the corner of your eye. Licking his lips, he hesitated for another moment then asked, “And if I do? If I–If I mean it like that?”

Leaning forward, you whispered, “If you do, then, baby, kiss me again.”

The moment that his lips touched yours, the world once again fell away. If anything, now that you were returning his kiss with the same tenderness and enthusiasm, it was even more intoxicating than the kiss on the dance floor and you never wanted it to end.

Both of Rhett’s large, calloused hands slid up to cup your face, his thumb softly rubbing back and forth across your cheekbone. He used this leverage to drive you back a few steps and you soon felt your back bump against the wall. He pressed closer, sandwiching you between the cold, rough concrete and his warm, firm body. Another spark of electricity shot through you and you wondered if he felt it too as you felt the growing bulge in his pants jerk against your hip.

Through the haze of the kiss, you briefly considered how far you should let this go. A small part of you wanted to undo his belt right this second and drop to your knees before him, or to slide down your jeans and let him pound into you against this wall. After all, the two of you were still alone and no one would see you. However, the bigger part of you knew no matter how amazing you felt at this moment, this was all very new and you shouldn’t rush things. You and Rhett still needed to figure out what this meant for the two of you moving forward, and adding sex right now would just make things even more complicated.

Rhett must have come to the same conclusion because he shifted his hips so they were no longer pressed against you. Then he reluctantly pulled his lips off of yours. His hands slid off your face onto the wall behind you, one braced on either side of your head as both of you stared at one another panting as you tried to catch your breath. All you could do was look at Rhett’s lips and imagine them pressed against yours once more. And from how he stared at you, a hunger pulsing in his blue eyes, you felt he was thinking the same thing.

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” you whispered.

“I wanted to since that first night we met. When I saw how kind, and funny, and incredible you were, I was smitten. But then the rest of the gang showed up and for the first time in a long time, I felt accepted. I was afraid makin’ a move on you would ruin all a that and I figured havin’ you as a friend was better than not havin’ you in my life at all. For a while, I settled for our dances and kisses, but I finally realized I didn’t want to be just your friend anymore. So, I took a chance.”

“I’m glad you did because I felt the same way.”

Rhett grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Thank you for being the brave one.”

Rhett’s cheeks grew red in the dim light but he nodded as he let his hands fall from the wall behind you. Standing up straight, he glanced over his shoulder. “Um, I guess we should probably get back before we get in trouble for bein’ back here.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tara’s sent Spencer out to find us yet.” You pushed off the wall, but as Rhett started to open the door, you stopped him. “Rhett…what happens now? Where do we go from here?”

He thought for a moment before a sly grin spread across his face. Walking up to you, he plucked his cowboy hat off his head and placed it on top of yours, pulling the brim down low over your brow.

Since the night you met him, you had never seen Rhett let a single person wear his hat, let alone touch it. So for him to give it to you, even temporarily…

You squeezed his hand tightly as you gazed into his eyes, loving what you saw reflected there. “How do I look?”

“Damn, sweetheart, looks like it was made for you,” Rhett’s voice was thicker than normal as he stared at you. “I shouldda given it to you the night we met, as soon as you sat down at my table with that smile and a beer.”

Now it was your turn to feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. Glancing shyly at the floor, you asked, “I love it, but I’m not really sure how this answers my question about us?”

“What do you know about Cowboy Law?”

Thanks to @ohtobeleah for letting me include the honorary Dagger in her event 😂 I've wanted to write this for a while and it was the perfect motivation to do so

Tag list: @lorecraft, @heart-0n-fire, @nerdysuperchick, @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @callsign-phoenix, @lt-natrace, @superskittles, @wkndwlff, @rhettabbotts, @ryebecca, @sio-ina-bottle, @lewmagoo, @basiccortez, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @blue-aconite, @ohtobeleah

#fic #leahsgalentinesdayspecial #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott outer range #outer range #lewis pullman #fluff #love confessions #kissing #language tw #drinking tw #drunk behavior tw

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babyjackdaniels · 6 months

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#fox writes imagines #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #drinking tw #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader imagine

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thebramblewood · 8 months

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Helena's final semester of college isn't ending on the high note she planned. (Little does she know, the fun is only just beginning...)

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#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 story #story: hzid #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 edit #i wanted to sort of mirror the beginning of semester post #anyway our girl is going THROUGH IT #this will go down as the craziest week of her life #cw alcohol #drinking tw #helena zhao

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 2 months

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You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This.... (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

“Well, I never saw him.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll find his way back. Or not.” She pointed at the frat bro, signaling the end of her interest in your questions. “What do you think about him?”

Without glancing back over, you deadpanned, “I think if you let him even touch you, you should get tested in the morning.”

She rolled her eyes at you before sitting up straighter as she bit her lip and coyly waved at the frat bro, clearly dismissing you.

“Come dance with me.”

You were taken aback as he thrust out his hand to help you up from the table.

“I–but we–I mean…”

Rhett smiled as he leaned in close to be heard over the music. “It’s just a dance, sweetheart. It ain’t anythin’ we don’t do every week.”

“Bu-but what about our drinks?”

“You two go,” Tara said, smiling from where she was sitting with Spencer’s arm draped across her shoulders. “Your drinks will still be here when you get back.”

“Well…maybe,” Spencer muttered just loud enough to be heard over the music as he eyed Rhett’s untouched beer.

But now Rhett had suddenly changed things up and you still had no idea why.

A half grin pulled at the corner of his mouth as he saw your surprised face and he asked, “You rushin’ off already? We just got out here.”

“In case I’m the only one who has noticed, I’m not really feeling this right now. And besides, we don’t do slow dances.”

Then, using the hand on the back of your neck to tilt your head, Rhett’s lips were suddenly on yours.

But had he felt it too?

With your face still just a few inches away from his, you chuckled softly. “You know, you really shouldn’t kiss me like this.”

“An’ why’s that?”

“You might give a girl the wrong impression. Make her start thinking lots of crazy things.”

All the air was sucked out of your lungs as his revelation drove into your chest like a fist. “Rhett…”

Leaning forward, you whispered, “If you do, then, baby, kiss me again.”

“Why didn’t you do that sooner?” you whispered.

“I’m glad you did because I felt the same way.”

Rhett grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Thank you for being the brave one.”

He thought for a moment before a sly grin spread across his face. Walking up to you, he plucked his cowboy hat off his head and placed it on top of yours, pulling the brim down low over your brow.

Since the night you met him, you had never seen Rhett let a single person wear his hat, let alone touch it. So for him to give it to you, even temporarily…

You squeezed his hand tightly as you gazed into his eyes, loving what you saw reflected there. “How do I look?”

Now it was your turn to feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. Glancing shyly at the floor, you asked, “I love it, but I’m not really sure how this answers my question about us?”

“What do you know about Cowboy Law?”