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sadhours · 3 months

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steve with a degradation kink 👀 jokingly calling him a pervert and he gets so flushed and embarrassed

heheh no I love this

steve harrington x f!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, steve and reader are childhood best friends, one use of y/n, perv!steve, degradation kink, oral (f receiving), hand stuff

💖💖💖��

you noticed your best friend reacted strangely to criticism. depending on the person. when his dad criticized him, his face went stoic and he replied to Mr. Harrington with one word answers. same kind of thing when his boss did it at work, though he wore his annoyance on his face then. when robin did it, he rolled his eyes. but when pretty girls who weren’t lesbians, at least to his knowledge, did it, his face got all flushed and his pupils would about double in size. and you found that intriguing. you’d done it plenty within the long years of your friendship but you’d never actually looked at how he responded. until one day.

a winter day. it was too cold to chill by the pool and the harrington’s were home. so you were confined to his horridly designed bedroom. god awful lamp lighting the room dimly as the sun was beginning to set. steve was propped up on the floor, back against his mattress as he tossed a baseball up and caught it. over and over. he looked as bored as you felt.

you got up from the floor and decided to go digging through his bedroom. not entirely sure what you were looking for but there had to be something entertaining in here. you start with his desk, opening drawers and scoping out the insides.

“yeah, just go through my stuff,” steve says with a shrug, voice dripping in sarcasm, “that’s totally cool.”

“oh, wah,” you mock him, “i’m bored. there’s gotta be something interesting tucked away in here.”

steve throws you an annoyed look, “yeah and that’s why i’m playing catch with myself.”

you ignore him, continuing to file through his belongings. you manage through his desk, then his dresser drawers and nightstand. it’s when you drop to the floor and peek under his bed that you find something. a box. you pull it out and steve scrambles to slam his hand on top of it.

“alright, ha ha ha, you had your fun! stop going through my stuff,” he says, eyes wide and worried.

you scoff, lips curling up with the exhale, “oh, no, that reaction tells me i just found the jackpot. what’s in the box, steven?”

“none of your business,” he says sternly, moving to slide it back under the bed but you stop it, fingers hooking into the lid and steve lunges forward, almost crushing the box with his body as he looks up at you panicked. “i mean it, y/n.”

“now i really gotta see what’s in here,” you go to tug it away and steve bear hugs the box. “c’mon, steve, i know every single one of your secrets. this can’t be that bad.”

“it’s personal, something’s you don’t need to know,” he insists, lips dropping into a frown.

you pull again, resulting in the pair of you wrestling for the box. the motions knock it over, spilling the contents out on the rug. to no one’s shock, it’s porn. magazines and two tapes. but kind of surprisingly, there’s panties and uh, Polaroids of Nancy. Not explicit by any means. Just photos of her smiling.

“oh, Steve,” you grab one of the photos and hold it up to inspect, “Nancy made it in the spank bank? Ya know, these aren’t even dirty, you don’t have to like, hide them.”

“Please, for the love of God,” his face is as red as a fire truck, it’s kind of… cute, seeing Steve so embarrassed. He’s usually so calm and collected. The coolest dude you know. “Stop looking.”

“Why?” you giggle, “This is by far the most interesting thing in this room.”

Then you tilt your head as you see it. Oh. That’s why. There’s Polaroid of you. In a bikini. In the backyard, lounged by the pool. Steve scrambles for it but you’re able to snatch it first.

“Oh, my god,” you gasp, examining the photo carefully. You remember the day it was taken. Just this past summer. You’d gotten a new bikini, you were excited to wear it. Red. “Like Phoebe Cates,” Steve had said and you uh, surprisingly didn’t pick up on it. That Steve looked at you like that. Looking back, it makes sense, the way he ran in to get his camera. The fact he compared you to a celebrity he’d been Gaga over.

He’s completely silent as he watches you connect the dots. Steve is attracted to you. Steve jacks off to you. You’ve made it in the spank bank. This information is intoxicating. It’s a mutual attraction. Hell, you can’t even count the amount of times you’ve laid back and flicked the bean with your best friend, Steve Harrington, in mind. The day he sprouted chest hair and his body got a little more muscular, you’d been bombarded with an overwhelming attraction to the guy. You swallow hard, then your eyes drop as Steve’s hand moves to grab a pair of underwear that was also in the box. You drop the photo and grab his wrist, eyes meeting his and the absolute panic in his eyes is… weirdly arousing to you. Then you see the pair, eyes scanning over the white cotton and faded print of cherries decorating them.

“Are those my underwear, Steve?” you ask, glancing back up at him.

“No,” he lies, won’t meet your eyes as he stares down at them in his hand.

“Did you steal my underwear, Steve?”

“Why would I do that?” he replies, looking up at you finally, trying to look nonchalant.

You swallow hard, you should be furious but you’re… you’re not. You’re turned on. This absolute creep behavior, but coming from Steve, it’s so… sweet and vulnerable. Makes you look into those big brown eyes and want to kiss his face all over. But Steve seems to like the humiliation. And it’s making your body erupt in desire.

“Because you’re a pervert,” you tell him, watching as his pupils double in size and he inhales sharply. He swallows and you see his Adam’s apple bob with the motion.

“No, I’m not,” he says, voice quiet and breathy.

“Yes, you are,” you tug the underwear from his hands and look down at them, trying to remember the last time you’d worn them. You and Steve has countless sleepovers, your parents trusted him beyond belief and his parents were rather distant. There were so many opportunities to fool around but it never happened. Which now you think is a little surprising, considering there was that attraction and you’d shared beds as hormonal teens. Can’t believe you’re discovering it now as “adults”. But maybe that’s why you feel bold enough to push him on his back, crawling over to straddle his waist and you can feel his erection hidden underneath his jeans. You hold up the panties, “You smell these while you jerk off to me?”

It’s almost as if you’re not yourself, watching this unfold from a outside perspective. You haven’t even been this confident with boyfriends before but you know Steve, and you’ve been wanting more than a friendship for quite some time. Steve jerks off to you, it’s new information that makes this almost impossible not to act on. It inflates your ego, makes your heart swell twice in size. Because the implication, he knows you better than anyone else, clearly the attraction has to be more than purely physical.

He doesn’t reply, swallows hard again and just stares up at you. His big brown eyes look hazy, aroused and you can feel that he is where your ass is sat against his crotch. He can’t deny he’s turned on. And you wiggle against him, to silently tell him you are too. Fuck, he’s your best friend. How long as he felt this way? Because you’re sure you’ve been in love with him for years. And to find out this way? Not to mention that he seems to be reacting to you calling him a pervert.

You shove the panties up against his nose, “You totally do. You sniff these and stare at the picture while you jerk off! You’re such a perv, Steve!”

He writhes against you, moaning pathetically against the cotton.

“That’s disgusting,” you laugh, playing the part and he whines this time, closes his eyes and sniffs the panties. it’s so hot, and embarrassing at the same time. You’re almost at a loss for words but he seems to like when you make fun of him. “You’re so pathetic, oh my god.”

He opens his eyes, begging you silently. You inhale sharply before continuing. “Bet they don’t even smell like me anymore. I’ve been missing these for months,” you comment, shoving them against his nose once more before standing up. Steve watches you intently, frozen on the ground. You slide the pair of panties you’re currently wearing down your thighs, kicking them off and picking them up before you straddle Steve again. You can feel how soaked they are in your palm. So you shove them against his nose, giggling as you ask, “They used to smell like this?”

Steve’s eyes widen before they roll back as he inhales your scent, no doubt feeling how wet they are.

“You like that?” you laugh cruelly, “god, steve. i didn’t know you were such a sad, pathetic pervert.”

“fuck,” he moans, rolling his hips up at you and the rough denim catches against your clit, pulls a noise from you that has your eyes widening and your dominant demeanor faltering as you grind back down on him. Steve’s eyes meet yours and Christ, he looks pretty and desperate.

“You like me telling you what a perv you are, huh?” you ask.

“yeah,” he breathes out, hands closing into fists by his sides as he rolls his hips up again.

you gasp, trying to maintain composure as his jeans run against your clit again. you wonder if steve can feel how wet you are, if you’re soaking through his denim.

“such a pathetic loser,” you mutter, rubbing your soiled panties against his face, “so desperate for your best friend. wanna taste? go ahead, pervert, taste them.”

with your permission, steve opens his mouth and licks against your underwear. you shove them against him harder and he closes his lips around a bit of them, sucking your juices from the fabric. Moans when he does it, which makes you grind down harder against him.

“bet you’ve been dreaming about the real thing,” you breathe out, “huh, Stevie? you stroke your cock and imagine licking my pussy?”

“mhm,” he replies, still sucking on the cotton. his eyes are so wide and pretty as he stares up at you.

“such a loser,” you pout, tilting your head as you watch him. “think you deserve it?”

“please,” he begs, rolls his hips again.

“desperate for my pussy, aren’t you?” you ask but it’s funny, because you’re desperate for him.

Steve keens, jerks his hips up as his hands venture towards your hips before he drops them back at his sides. Like he’s nervous to touch you. You lean down, tossing your underwear aside as you hover your lips over his. Then you whisper, “Do you wanna eat me out, Steve?”

“Please don’t be fucking with me,” he replies, all soft and wrecked.

“That a yes?” you retort, licking your lips.

He nods, the motion makes his lips graze slightly against yours and it’s difficult not to kiss him. But your core is aching, just the idea of his gorgeous mouth on your heat has you a little feral and you rut down against him before inching up.

“Can I sit on your face, Stevie?” you ask, voice coming out more wrecked than you’d intended. Sounds weird on your ears. Didn’t know you could sound so sultry.

“Please,” he begs, writhing underneath you. “Fuck, please, pretty please sit on my face.”

You’re languid with the motion, pulling your skirt up as you climb up him and into position. He’s staring at your cunt, lips parted and pupils as wide as saucers. Licks his lips and you giggle, peering down at him as you begin to speak, “Look so desperate…”

He replies by wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you down on him. His mouth is warm and wet and determined. Steve elicits a moan as soon as he makes contact and it sends vibrations through your whole body. You gasp, holding your skirt up with your left hand while you push his hair off his forehead with the other. Steve is working his mouth on your cunt like he’s making out with it, tongue lashing and lips sucking all while he stares up at you and keeps moaning against your folds. You’ve had other men eat you out before but never like this. Never so determined, never seemed to be enjoying it so much.

There were rumors about Steve, you’d heard girls talk about this. You’d always feigned disgust. He was your best friend, you didn’t wanna hear about his bedroom skills. But deep down, you’d always wondered what he did differently. You haven’t ever had the urge to brag about the men you’d been with. They’d all been pretty mediocre.

The difference is Steve loves this. He’s hungry for it. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you firmly against his mouth and he’s… he’s moving his head with the motions. Groaning into you.

Your lips fall open, brows knitting together as your fingers tug at the roots of his hair. Staring down at your gorgeous best friend as he devours you. Then his hands move up, snaking under the hem of your shirt and he unclasps your bra in quick time, impressing you briefly before his hands move knead and grope at your breasts. With the grip on your thighs gone, you’re able to move your hips and they grind down on his face on their own volition. Fuck, you’re trying to keep quiet but it’s hard. His tongue flicks against your clit, flat and repetitive as his fingers swirl around your pebbled nipples. You whine, riding his face as you chase your high. The deep, tight coil in your stomach is threatening to snap at any second. You don’t think you’ve ever cum so fast in your life.

“God, you fucking pervert,” you whine, writhing against his mouth, “Feels so fucking good.”

Steve moans his appreciation, eyes rolling back slightly. He pinches your nipple and you’re a goner. Eyes squeezing shut as bright stars of light dance around behind your lids. Steve’s taking it well, sucking and licking up all that you give him. Doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him and rolling onto your back beside him. You’re breathing heavily and it quickly turns into pleasure fueled giggles. Then Steve’s reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers, squeezing.

“So, uh, now you know my biggest secret,” he breathes out, and you turn to see the sweetest smile on his face.

You smirk, “That you’re a sick pervert? I did know that already.”

He flushes, turning and shoving his face against your neck. You roll over to wrap your hand around his middle and squeeze him. Your mouth against his ear as you whisper, “I uh, also touch myself to you. Just like thoughts though, not uh, not pictures.”

“I get it,” he mumbles, “I’m a giant perv.”

“You are,” you giggle, “But I like it. Should’ve known it when I wore that bikini and you said it reminded you of phoebe cates.”

Steve laughs at that, “Yeah, you’re kind of oblivious.”

“Shut up, perv,” you reply, moving your hand lower and palming against his cock strained by his jeans, “Or I won’t help you get rid of this.”

“Oh, you wanna help?” Steve asks, the humor wavering as he rocks his hips up at your hand.

“Uh-huh,” you pull back just slightly, so you can look at his face while you unbutton his jeans. He helps you get them down his thighs, briefs following suit. You lick your palm before wrapping your fingers around his cock, glancing down and gasping. Fuck, he’s huge. Your eyes dart back up to his face and he’s smiling, all cocky. He knows it’s big. You’re sure he’s been told so a hundred times so you don’t say anything. You squeeze him while gazing into his beautiful brown eyes, you’d always loved how they sloped just slightly down. And they were so big and wide, so expressive. They are right now as you start to slowly stroke him. He blinks rapidly, licking his lips.

“Can’t believe you look at a photo of me while you jack off,” you mumble, “Seriously, Steve. It’s pretty pathetic.”

There go those expressive eyes, full of arousal— desperation. You don’t avert yours as you squeeze his base, slow and deliberate as you stroke up and swipe your thumb against his weeping tip. You raise an eyebrow, “You get this wet when you’re jerking off to me?”

He whines, bites his lip as his eyebrows furrow. Looks so sweet and needy. It’s the prettiest Steve’s ever looked.

“It’s pathetic because Stevie, you could’ve had me this whole time,” you mumble against his lips, fingers spreading his precum down his shaft and he’s really so wet, you can hear it as you stroke him up and down. Making sure to squeeze where it counts, base and head. Repeatedly. He whines against you. Bucks his hips because you’re going too slow. So you pull your hand away, “Ah-ah, you need to be a good boy for me, Steve.”

He whimpers, music to your ears, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good. Don’t stop, baby.”

The pet name warms you all over. Can’t help but grip his cock again, stroking him more deliberately this time. He whines, all high pitched and pretty against your lips. You give up the teasing, determined to get your best friend off. Curving your palm on every upstroke, whispering against his lips, “Cum for me, baby. Show me what a sick, little pervert you are.”

Steve groans, moves his hand up to cup your jaw as he bucks his hips again. But you let him. Let him fuck your fist. His mouth falls open in a silent moan as he coats your hand in his release, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so hot, you feel your own slick coating your thighs from it.

You let go of him, he rolls on his back and smiles as he sighs, eyes still closed. You clean his mess up with your skirt, a problem to deal with at another time. And for the first time in your friendship, you and Steve are absolutely speechless. Laying side by side. But he’s the one to break the silence.

“Should we like, make out now?” he asks, propping himself on his elbow as he looks down at you, “Ya know, so it’s not weird.”

“Yeah, cus that’s what would make this not weird,” you tell him but you hook a leg over his waist and straddle him, grabbing onto his face and kissing him stupid anyways.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut

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lovesphases · 19 days

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rafe x bitch!reader pt.2

MDNI 18+ | pt. 1 here warnings: spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, creampie, semi public sex, that's it i think let me know if i missed any

with the knowledge of how mad you left rafe, you can't stop the smile that slowly creeps onto your face. however, your victory doesn't last long. a large hand roughly grabs the back of your neck, yanking you back until you collide into a hard surface. not even needing to look up you already know who it is.

"you think you're reallll funny huh?"

"rafe-"

"shut up. you're gonna listen to what i gotta say or shit is only gonna get worse for you, understand?" you attempt to pull out of his hold, his grip only tightening with your lack of response.

"rafe let me go!"

"nah, think you can pull that kinda shit? disrespecting me in front of everybody. i think you need to be taught some respect." the implication of his words cause goosebumps to coat your skin. dragging you to his truck, he opens the door to the backseat. "get in. don't make me force you."

you open your mouth, a protest ready to escape. before you get the chance he lifts you up, practically throwing you into the truck. the fear of what's to come causes heat to pool in your lower stomach. rafe climbs in behind you, slamming the door.

in a blink of a eye your bent over his lap, a harsh slap landing on your ass. rafe kisses his teeth, "thinkin' you can talk to me like that, must've lost your damn mind."

an influx of salty tears begin gathering at your waterline, each smack to your ass harder than the last. you jolt forward, causing your clit to rub against his thigh. a laugh escapes rafe when he hears the small whimper that forces its way out of you.

"should've known a greedy slut like you would get off on this. you're probably soaked."

"rafe please! ill be good, i promise. just stop!" tears have started to cascade down your cheeks, leaving streaks of mascara in its wake.

"shoulda thought about that before. 10 more, you can do it baby." rafe places one last harsh slap, sobs now racking your body. he softly runs his hands over the now red and broken skin. "see, knew you could do it." laying you face down on the seat, he rips the shorts of your body.

"rafe not here! people might see!"

"didn't care about that when you were running that big fucking mouth of yours. now its my turn not to care." you recognize the sound of rafe pulling his pants down, and without warning he slams his length into you. "fuck. so tight, this pussy was made for me i swear."

as the pain from the stretch subsides, you let out a loud cry, his tip hitting your cervix with each thrust. "not so much to say now, huh?"

with the way his cock is hammering into your weeping cunt you can't find it in you to respond. you harshly grip onto the door, needing something- anything to ground you. he pushes your head further into the seat, allowing him to hit your g spot continuously. all you can do is let out pornographic moans, the pleasure so overwhelming you don't know what to do with yourself. your head is foggy with lust and you're beyond cock drunk. rafe begins to thrust into you impossibly harder, jaw clenched so hard he feared it might break. he snakes a hand around your front, rubbing harsh circles against your clit. his thrusts become sloppy he nears his release.

your cunt clenches against him as your orgasm threatens to explode out of you. before you can cum his hips still, his hot seed filling you, the mixture of your arousal running down your thighs. a loud whine leaves your throat at your orgasm being ripped away from you.

rafe lets out a laugh from behind you. "oh im sorry, did you think i was gonna let you cum? disrespectful sluts don't get to cum. be grateful i gave you dick at all." he pulls out of you, pulling his shorts back up. "get dressed." he hands your shorts to you before getting out of the car and hopping into the drivers seat.

after getting dressed you slide into the passenger seat, your makeup now ruined from tear stains. he takes you back to tanneyhill, your punishment far from over.

tag list: @niyahwhoreworld @sadgrl99 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron prompt #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe obx

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j0eyj0rdis0n · 8 months

Text

THE PROXIES RECIEVING NUDES

TIM WRIGHT/ MASKY

He swore you two had a discussion about this, not while he was working.

Half of him was more than happy to receive the video of your little fingers pumping in and out of your pretty pussy. While the other half of him was pissed that you disobeyed him and his request.

When he felt his phone vibrate against his thigh he knew it was you considering the guys were right next to him, intently focused on the victims in the house in front of them

He couldn't help but get distracted for the rest of the mission. Honestly he let the other two take the lead, he couldn't think of anything but you

When everything was said and done they got in the truck and headed back home, Tim drove like the fucking wind to get home to you.

He left the truck running as he walked inside, his footsteps heavy as he made his way to your room

Immediately throwing the door open and tearing off his jacket

"We discussed this. On your knees, now."

Lets just say he made sure you learned your lesson

BRIAN THOMAS/ HOODIE

He was sitting shotgun in the truck on their way to the next mission location, Toby was chatting away while he looked out the window wishing he was deaf.

When his phone dinged he was more than happy to put his attention elsewhere

He immediately slammed his phone into his lap when your tits filled the screen. In the car?? Really??

He looked at his associates making sure they were too distracted before he looked again, shifting his body so the phone screen was out of their view

"Lookin' good hon" was his text back

He wasn't as distracted as he thought he would be for the rest of the mission

When he came home to you he got on top of you, pressing his face against your perfect tits.

"Why do ya' gotta tease me like that sweetheart?" He'd question softly as you ran your fingers through his hair

He'd spend the rest of the night alternating between groping your boobs or laying on top of you with his face buried in your chest

"TICCI" TOBY

As usual the man was talking his collogues ears off as they walked through the woods. He was going on about this thing he and Ben saw online and he was looking through his phone to show them

When your message came through he went dead silent, eyes locked on the way your body was positioned in front of the mirror. On your knees, legs apart with your body on full display. All for him.

He felt his pants grow tight as he stared.

It wasn't until Tim said something that he looked up, face red and eyes wide.

"S-sorry- Just a little dis-tracted..." He mumbled as he shoved his phone into his back pocket

He was silent for the rest of the walk, the other two had a good idea of why

Toby was quite the open book after all

When he got home he was on his knees for you, begging to let him taste you, at least let his head get squished between your thighs

He was like putty in your hands

It was the easiest it's ever been to get what you want from him

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta headcannons #masky #tim wright #marble hornets #masky marble hornets #hoodie marble hornets #hoodie #brian thomas #toby rodgers #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby #masky headcanons #hoodie headcanons #headcannons

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daycourtofficial · 3 months

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 3

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2)(Part 4)

Author’s note: I’m a bit uncertain about this part tbh :/ on one hand I love it, on the other I’m not sure

It had been a few days since Azriel went with you to return the truck, and you hadn’t seen much of him or Cassian since. Cassian had told you they were both personal trainers at the same gym, and he even went so far as to put his schedule up on the fridge so you would know when he’d be gone.

Looking at the schedule, he had even left a sticky note telling you he had plans before work and that he wouldn’t be back all day.

Your day alone in the apartment didn’t go as well as you had hoped it would, your phone buzzing around noon, the name Dad lighting up your phone.

You sigh, letting it go to voicemail, and decide to call Feyre to avoid thinking about him. She picks up on the third ring, her voice chirping through the phone, “hello?”

“Hey Fey, do you wanna do something today? I don’t want to wallow all alone.”

She sighs over the phone, “I wish I could, but I’m walking into work right now. I can’t call out when they can see me walking in the doors.”

You sigh, “do you know if Mor’s free?”

You can hear some commotion from Feyre’s surroundings, like she’s walking into a building.

“Mor has that internship she just started, I think she’s busy getting things ready for that.”

A beat pauses before Feyre continues, “I gotta go, but I’ll call you when I get off, okay? We can do something tomorrow if you’re free.”

You smile, “can we go to that axe throwing place we’ve been talking about for ages?”

She laughs, “absolutely. I’ll even print out a photo of your dad and hang it up on the target. Okay, I really gotta go, but if you wanna text me you can. I’ll respond when I can. Love you!”

She waits for you to echo her sentiment before hanging up, leaving you alone again. You spend the day trying to distract yourself, finding anything you can to distance yourself from the loneliness you feel. You unpack a few boxes you hadn’t gotten to, and after being fully moved in, you pour yourself a glass of soda to commemorate the occasion.

You sip from your glass as you begin cleaning the apartment, organizing the pantry, cleaning out the fridge, hell you even strip Cassian’s bed and clean his sheets and comforter.

Once the place is clean, you run out to the store, picking up what you need to make your favorite meal. You unpack your groceries when you come back, pour yourself a glass of wine, and sigh in contentment at spending an evening alone cooking your favorite pasta dish. You are determined to salvage some part of today, even if it’s just with a nice dinner. You’re playing music from your phone, the sounds drowning out the notification of a voicemail from your father that you’ve been ignoring all day.

You sip your wine as you stir the pasta, however the blaring sound of an ad startles you, causing wine to go all over the front of your clothes. You sigh, looking to the ceiling for strength to not break down. You take some deep breaths before peeling off your wine soaked dress, opening the laundry door to throw it into the washing machine. You’re hopeful that getting it in immediately will help prevent a stain from setting in, but you still pour a little extra stain remover in.

Once you get the machine going, standing in your kitchen in your underwear, you decide to make the most of this. The day sucked. All day all you had wanted to do was hide under your covers, hide from the world. You took a deep breath and told yourself “I’m done hiding.”

Your favorite song starts playing, and knowing that Cassian won’t be home for several more hours, you dance. You jump around your apartment, whipping your head around, letting out the loose bun your hair was in for the day.

You skip around, the sounds of Super Trouper by ABBA drowning out the door opening until suddenly something stops your music. Turning around you find Rhys’s hand hovering over your phone, having just stopped the music, and Azriel, whose gaze is on you, soaking in every detail of your little show.

You blink a few times, trying to ensure this is not a nightmare, however you don’t snap back to reality until the timer goes off for the pasta. All three of you whip your heads towards the timer, it’s tone jarring all three of you back to the present.

You groan, starting to back away back to your room. “What are you guys doing here?” You exclaim, “but more importantly - please drain my pasta while I find pants.”

You slip into your room, finding a comfy pair of sweats and a crop top, coming back out to find Azriel draining your pasta into the colander.

“Well?” You ask, cutting up the chicken you had pan-fried earlier. Azriel won’t look you in the eye, a blush evident across his face as he’s turned in the opposite direction, facing away from you.

Rhysand doesn’t have the same affliction.

He smirks at you, “is this how Cassian gets greeted when he comes home? I must say I’d be more chipper coming home to that little show than to Azriel.”

Azriel does not respond to the jab. Instead, he picks up another knife, helping you cut. Rhys just stands behind you two, leaning against the fridge.

“Cassian most certainly does not get greeted by my bare ass when he comes home,” you respond indignantly. The two of you have finished chopping, so you motion for all the chicken and the pasta to go into the pan with the pesto sauce concoction you’ve made. Azriel helps you stir it, and once it’s evenly distributed, you two pop it into the oven.

“Well your ass wasn’t bare, it was slightly covered by your very cute-“

The task at hand done and a new timer set, you turn to face Rhys, cutting him off. “I spilled wine on my clothes and I didn’t want it to set and then I got carried away when Abba came on.”

He only smiles back, “got a hot date for dinner tonight?”

Azriel tenses ever so slightly, but you don’t think too much of it as you respond, “yeah word on the street is she has an incredible rack and a great ass.”

“Having seen them first hand I think the rumors are true.”

You roll your eyes, but decide you’re done with this game and want some sincerity.

“I had a shitty day and I just wanted my favorite meal.” You look down, crossing your arms. You don’t like being vulnerable, especially around people you just met. You think about Cassian, and how much he loves the two guys in front of you. Maybe you can take a leap, and perhaps they’ll catch you.

“I’d actually enjoy the company if you guys want to stay. I made plenty of pasta to wallow in so I think there’s enough to go around.”

Your eyes stay on the ground as you move your hands up and down your arms, a nervous movement. You watch as Azriel’s foot comes into view, standing in front of you as he gently taps his foot against yours, a silent request to look at him. “I love pasta,” he tells you, looking into your eyes. You’re struck by the absence of pity in them, and how they are full of sincerity, of kindness.

You look away from him when Rhys starts talking, “It’s decided. You got a two for one deal tonight - two hot dates for the evening.”

You smile, the thought of being alone almost overbearing, when you remember, “why did you guys come over here anyway?”

Azriel sheepishly looks away, clearly thinking about how they caught you half naked when they walked in the door. Rhys tells you, “we wanted to watch Forest Gump and we knew Cassian had it on Blu-ray.”

You nod, looking over at Cassian’s wall of dvds and blu-rays, which you had to admit was quite impressive. “I’ve never seen it - is it any good?”

When Cassian got off work from the gym, he thought he’d come home to a dark apartment, scrounging the fridge for any remnants of food. What he didn’t expect to find was his two brothers watching Forrest Gump, and seeing a tupperware container in the fridge with a sticky note with his name on it in Azriel’s neat script.

He walks in, Azriel shooting daggers at him. The audacity, Cassian thinks, watching a movie in my place and being annoyed that I’m here. That is until he comes close enough to notice your head in Azriel’s lap, a hand curled up on his thigh. His eyes linger on his brother’s hand that is slowly massaging your scalp, the hands he had always been so nervous and protective over. Cassian realizes he’s never seen his brother leave his hands to be so openly observed outside of his brothers.

He stares for a minute as your blanketed back slowly rises and falls, clearly asleep, before he turns, giving his brother a shit eating grin where they have a conversation without words. The conversation essentially boils down to Cassian’s eyebrows raising up and down, and Azriel’s continued scowl at Cassian’s inability to move through a room without making as much noise as possible.

Azriel doesn’t relax until Cassian is sitting on the other couch next to Rhys, tuning into the movie when Forrest is walking around Washington D.C.

“She didn’t even make it halfway through the movie,” Cassian whispers to Rhys.

“No,” Rhys replies, looking at you curled up on the couch, a soft smile on his face, “but she did ask us to stay for dinner.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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stevethehairington · 1 year

Text

drop a dime

[Read on Ao3]

The first time Hopper busts Eddie goes a little something like this:

It happens at a party. One of Steve Harrington’s infamous ragers. He knows there will be loud music. He knows there will be underage drinking. And, of course, he knows there will be party favors. (Would it really be a party without?)

Hopper’s heard the rumors — knows that Munson’s name gets whispered in the streets when someone’s looking to buy. He’s never actually seen Munson in action until tonight, though.

The cruiser pulls to a quiet stop at the curb, and Powell and Callahan exit the vehicle. Hopper parks his truck right behind and climbs out too. They’re marching their way up the front lawn, gearing up to knock on those big red doors and break this party up when Hopper sees it. The tiniest flicker of movement in the shadows, just beneath the big oak tree.

He stops in his tracks and squints towards the tree and — yep. There he is. Eddie Munson rocking back on his heels as he passes something over to his client. He looks twitchy, keeps throwing furtive glances around, like he’s afraid of getting caught.

Hopper chuckles lowly to himself and starts to close in on him.

He makes it halfway to the tree when Munson’s shifty eyes spot him. They freeze on Hopper, then go big as a deer’s. The other kid asks Munson a question, and when he doesn’t answer, his eyes follow Munson’s.

“Shit,” the kid hisses and he bolts without a second’s hesitation, leaving Munson in the dust.

Hopper pays him no mind, though.

Munson stays frozen for a split second longer, long enough for Hopper to nearly reach him, before he turns tail and runs into the trees.

Hopper curses, loudly, and starts to chase after him.

Munson’s quick, and he’s a conniving little shit, twisting around trees and taking sharp turns to try and throw Hopper off his trail. But Hopper is determined. His knees aren’t what they used to be, and his chest starts to feel tighter, breathes turning more into wheezes the longer he goes, but god dammit, he’s gonna catch this kid if it’s the last thing he does.

It’s seren-fuckin-dipity, what happens next.

Munson, in all his gangly glory — and shit, maybe he is part deer — trips over a rock or a stick or something, that sends him flying. He tumbles forward, sprawling face first into the underbrush.

It gives Hopper just enough time to catch up. He’s out of breath by the time he makes it to the clearing, but Munson is still on the ground, scrambling to free his shoe from whatever it must’ve gotten caught in.

He finally does, and he jumps to his feet, and jesus christ, not again. Hoppe can’t do this a-fucking-gain.

“Christ kid, would you quit fuckin’ running?” He barks, though it doesn’t come out nearly as authoritative as he’d like in between the panting as he catches his breath.

It works, though.

Munson does stop, thank god — probably thinks that Hopper’s got him surrounded or something. He backs himself up against a tree trunk twice his size and stares at Hopper with his big saucer eyes. His whole body is tensed, like he’s ready to spring at any second, but his shoulders are hunched in on himself, like he’s trying to make himself smaller too.

He looks scared shitless as Hopper approaches, and Hopper is sure the kid thinks he’s about to get Busted Busted. His eyes flicker down to the pair of cuffs hooked to Hopper’s belt, and he swallows visibly.

Hopper doesn’t reach for the cuffs, though. He doesn’t pull out his baton or go for his gun, or even bring out that special little booklet they gave him for writing up fines and tickets.

He just sticks his hands on his hips and levels Munson with a stern look before asking, “You sellin’?”

Munson, terrified as he is, stiffens up his upper lip and juts his chin out definitely. “Who’s asking?” He challenges.

Hopper’s gotta give him credit. His voice doesn’t waver at all. It’s kind of amusing, the way he still very much looks like a kid trying to be tough, but Hopper can respect that. Munson’s not gonna take shit from anybody — that’s a good trait to have, ‘specially ‘round these parts.

Still, Hopper’s got an image to keep. He rolls his eyes and presses his lips together. “Me,” he responds, unimpressed.

Munson just narrows his eyes at Hopper, keeps them bouncing between Hopper’s eyes, like he’s searching him out.

Hopper entertains it for a couple of seconds before he finally sighs and asks, “Got any pre-rolled?”

And Munson — he blinks, taken aback by the question. But just as quickly, that stony mask rolls back into place. This time, though, that lingering fear is gone, no sign of that scared little boy.

Munson steps away from the tree trunk and folds his arms over his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he assesses Hopper further. He must see something in Hopper, something that tells him that he isn’t really a threat. That’s the only explanation Hopper has for the brassy confidence that’s suddenly oozing out of Munson.

“You know,” Munson starts, voice cocksure and smooth, “entrapment isn’t legal, old man.”

Hopper can’t help himself as he snorts. Jesus christ, this kid. “That’s why I ain’t doin’ it, kid.”

Munson doesn’t speak again. Doesn’t reach for his stash, either. He’s still sizing Hopper up, very nearly circling him like a lion with its prey.

And, well, two can play at this game.

Hopper stands to his full height and fixes his eyes right back on Munson, giving as good as he gets.

It becomes a sort of show down, between the two of them. Staring at each other in the dark, wondering who’s gonna crack first.

Much to his chagrin, it’s Hopper that does.

It’s already late and getting later, and he doesn’t have all night. There’s a six pack of beer and a home cooked lasagna, courtesy of Flo, waiting for him in his refrigerator at home. The VCR was set to record tonight’s game, and the best spot on the couch has his name written all over it. Hopper would like to be able to enjoy all of those things before the clock turns.

So he reaches for his wallet. Pulls it out of his pocket and fishes through it for a couple of crumpled bills — way more than Munson charges, but Munson doesn’t know that Hopper knows that. He shakes them out as best he can and waves them through the air at Munson.

“You gonna collect or what?” He asks.

It must be enough to convince Munson, because he doesn’t waste a second, reaching out and snatching up the bills before Hopper can squirrel them away again. He counts them quick and pockets them quicker, and finally opens up his jacket and plucks a couple of pre-rolled joints from the inside pocket.

He casts a brief glance around the clearing — habit, probably — before holding them out for Hopper to take.

Hopper accepts the joints, pinching them between his fingers and giving them a once over. He only just refrains from whistling at the sight. A clean roll, and no skimping on the bud — it’s no wonder Munson’s managed to drum himself up the kind of business he has. These are quality.

Hopper tucks them away into his own jacket pocket, and stuffs his wallet back where it came from too.

Across from him, Munson pulls his jacket shut and starts to zip it up, looking, for all intents and purposes, like he’s getting ready to scoot.

Just as Hopper suspected, the second that zip is all the way up, Munson turns on his heel.

“Hey,” Hopper calls after him, firm and authoritative. It stops Munson in his tracks. Hopper jerks his head towards the direction they came from. “Back to my car. Let’s go, come on.”

Confusion blooms across Munson’s face and he immediately starts to protest. “Woah, woah, woah, you said this wasn’t entrapment. You can’t— you can’t take me into the station for this. I’m not— I’m not going. I won’t— you can’t— I—”

“Christ, Munson, I’m taking you home,” Hopper interrupts. “Let’s go.” His tone leaves no room for questions, and he doesn’t wait for Munson to wrap his head around the fact that he’s not getting arrested before he starts back towards his truck.

The only reason Hopper knows Munson falls into line is because he can hear the soft crunch of leaves under foot behind him.

The trek back to Loch Nora is a quiet one, and the drive to Forest Hills is even quieter.

Munson fidgets the whole way there, though, tapping his fingers against his thigh, drumming his knuckles against the window, tugging his jacket zipper back and forth, crossing his ankles then uncrossing them then crossing them once again. He tries to pull his leg up to his chest once, hesitating before the sole of his shoe touches the leather seat. He shoots a glance towards Hopper, like he’s expecting to see him looking, ready to yell at him to stop or something.

Hopper stays silent, though. These seats have seen worse.

The truck has barely rolled to a complete stop in front of the Munson trailer before the passenger door goes jerking open and Munson spills out. He doesn’t wait for Hopper to exit, just marches his way up the front steps and reaches for the door.

It swings open before he can even close his fist around the handle.

“Where the hell you been, boy?” Wayne Munson asks, and though the question sounds rough, the delivery isn’t. It’s concerned more than anything. “You said you’d be home half an hour ago, Ed.”

“Didn’t mean to scare you, Wayne,” Eddie says, apologetic in his tone. “S’not my fault though. I got held up,” he says jauntily and jerks a thumb over his shoulder.

“Evening, Wayne,” Hopper greets, tipping his hat.

“Jim,” Wayne says, giving a nod of his own in response.

“That’s my cue,” Eddie mumbles under his breath and he slinks behind Wayne so he can slip into the trailer. It would have been pretty damn stealthy, had the door not rattled against the frame as it slammed behind him.

“There a reason he hitched a ride home with you?” Wayne asks, crossing his arms over his chest, not unlike the way Eddie had earlier this evening.

It’s funny, Hopper muses to himself, how obvious it is that Eddie really is Wayne’s boy. All it takes is one simple gesture like that.

“You know about the dealing?” Hopper asks, not bothering to beat around the bush. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer anyway.

Wayne lets out a sigh. Scrubs a weathered hand over his face. “I’m aware,” he says. “I keep tellin’ him to quit it. He won’t listen though. Says he needs the money.” He shakes his head. Looks up at Hopper. “You bust him tonight?”

“You could say that,” Hopper replies.

Wayne sighs again. “How much is the fine?” He asks. “I assume that’s all it is, anyway, since I wasn’t called into the station, and he ain’t here in cuffs.”

Hopper shakes his head, holds up a palm. “Nah, no fine, Wayne.” He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out his purchase, giving it a little wave in Wayne’s sight before hiding it away again. “Everything’s all taken care of,” he says.

Wayne’s brow furrows. “Look Jim, I know Ed ain’t exactly followin’ the law here, but he’s just tryin’ to make a little extra cash. He’s careful with it. He’s not hurtin’ no one. Is it really necessary to be stealin’ from him like that?”

Hopper can’t stop the hearty laugh from rumbling out. “Relax,” he says, drawing the word out. “I’m not stealing nothing from nobody, Wayne. I paid your boy, don’t worry.”

Surprise briefly writes itself across Wayne’s face, but just as quickly it settles into something else. Something a little more… curious.

“You plannin’ on bein’ a repeat customer?” Wayne questions, raising an eyebrow.

It’s Hopper’s turn to get curious, wondering just what Wayne’s getting at here. “You gonna turn me in, Munson?” He asks.

Wayne chuckles. Rolls his eyes. “I ain’t a snitch,” he says, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in the ghost of a smile. It’s fleeting, though, and quickly overtaken by something more serious. Wayne straightens up, meets Hopper’s eyes dead on. “I only ask ‘cause if you are, I need you to do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” Hopper asks, taking his hat from his head and holding it between his hands.

“Keep an eye on him for me, would ya?” Wayne says. “I don’t like him doin’ that, but that ain’t gonna stop him. Harpin’ on him’s just gonna make him stop talkin’. So just— do me a favor. Make sure no one’s givin’ him a hard time, okay? Make sure he’s not gettin’ himself into any real trouble.”

It’s Wayne Munson asking him to keep his boy safe. It’s Wayne Munson asking him to make sure he comes home at the end of every night. It’s Wayne Munson asking him to protect —not the way an officer of the law would, but the way of a father.

“‘Course I can do that, Wayne,” Hopper affirms, and it’s like something snaps into place in his chest with the words. He gives a resolute nod, and repeats, “Of course I can.”

Wayne searches Hopper’s face for a moment before nodding firmly, resolutely. “Thank you kindly, Chief,” he says, and starts to reach for the door. “You have a good night now.”

“You have a good night too,” Hopper returns the sentiment.

As Wayne disappears back inside, Hopper takes the steps two at a time until he’s back on the dirt path and making his way towards his truck again.

He slides into the driver’s seat, and tosses his hat into the passenger’s. His keys slide home into the ignition, and the engine rumbles to life beneath him. His foot finds the gas and he pumps a little life into the car, moves towards the exit.

At the stop sign, he pauses. A left turn takes him home. A right turn takes him back towards Loch Nora. Back towards the Harrington house.

Hopper can feel the joints, burning a hole in his pocket. His fingers itch to pull them out, to feel around for the lighter in his glovebox, to maybe start a little early — he’s only a few minutes from home, after all.

But, sitting there he thinks of the promise he just made to Wayne.

Thinks of the first time he answered a noise complaint for a house party in the middle of the week.

Thinks of the promise he made to himself that day, when he found Steve Harrington, three sheets to the wind and sitting all by himself on the front porch. Not even enjoying his own party. Fingering a ring of bruises that circled his wrist and mumbling something incoherent about parents.

Hopper thinks of the party he’d broken up tonight — another, in the long string he’s had to break up there lately.

He thinks of Steve Harrington. He thinks of Eddie Munson. He thinks that, maybe, they’re not so different.

Maybe they both could use someone looking out for them.

The joints can wait, Hopper decides.

He takes a right.

#eddie munson #jim hopper #wayne munson #stranger things #hopper ABSOLUTELY buys weed off of eddie

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myfaveficrecs · 5 months

Text

Christmas Tradition

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Reader (Darling)

Word Count: 1785

Warnings: Pure fluff

AN: Written for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge. My prompt was ornaments, and I chose to do something I haven't done before. I wrote for Bob! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone.

“Still okay to meet at 6?”

Bob smiled while reading your text knowing your Christmas tradition would change after this year. In all honesty, he should have changed the tradition a couple of years ago but he always justified why he couldn’t do it just yet. Being on different sides of the country, deployments, being with your families in different states for the holidays, work schedules didn’t align, you both were too busy. But this year that changes.

“I can’t wait, Darling.”

“Going to pick out ornaments tonight?” Phoenix asked with a smile, catching a glimpse of her WSO’s phone while walking by.

“Yeah,” he blushed but could not seem to tamp down his grin. “I put the one for tonight in the tree already this morning after she left for work. I just have to wait a few more hours.”

“How are you feeling?”

“What’s the matter Baby on Board? Going to throw up again?” Hangman gave his traditional smirk while walking to his locker. Looking around, Bob realized the whole squad was in tow in the locker room now.

“Shut up, Bagman. He’s nervous enough without you adding to it.”

“Nervous about what?” Rooster chimed in. “You guys are just going to get your ornaments, right?”

“Wait, ornaments? I feel like I’m missing something.”

“You usually are, Hangman.” Phoenix glared at the irritating pilot. She was not going to let him ruin this day for Bob.

“Every year, Bob and Darling go to a boutique in the town they are in for Christmas to pick out one new ornament each for their tree. The ornament is something that reminds them of each other or something that they did together that year.”

“Okay…and what makes today's nauseating display of affection any different from the other years?”

“First of all, it isn’t nauseating, it’s romantic. Secondly, Bob is officially making her part of the squad!”

Loud cheers and hands roughly shaking his shoulders made Bob turn an interesting shade of red, but the laugh that came out of him was pure joy. “She has to say yes first. I gotta get out of here and meet her. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

With choruses of cheers and good luck, Bob rushed out to his truck, pulling out his phone to let her know he was on his way with a quick text. The closer he got to her, the less anxious he felt. She was the only thing other than being above the clouds that made him feel completely at peace. His Darling was his safe place, his home, his heart, and his soul. She was so deeply ingrained and embedded into his skin that he would never be rid of her if he tried. She was everything and he would make sure she knew it.

Pulling up to the little boutique decked out in all the garland, lights, and ornaments probably in the whole of San Diego he saw his little Darling already waiting for him at the front door, excitement all over her face. He may have started this tradition, but she made sure to treasure it and keep it exciting.

“There is my handsome man. How was work?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, leaving little kisses along his jaw, enjoying the light flush that started along his neck and was gradually making its way to his ears. The little prickles of the five o’clock shadow leave pleasant tingles on your lips.

His arms wrapped tight around you, swaying you back and forth to a tune that was only playing in his own mind. “It was good, I got to try some new equipment upgrades today. They are asking for my input on how to make it better.”

“That’s because you are amazing at what you do, and I would know how precise, focused, and accurate you are.”

Bob laughed, covering your mouth with one large hand while you wiggle your eyebrows, trying to tamp down your own amusement for his sake. “Be a good girl.”

His deep voice with that particular phrase sent lightning zaps throughout your body and straight to your core, the memory of his head between your legs this morning making your heart pick up speed. “I can’t make any promises.” You let out a little yelp when you felt a quick swat to your ass, his strong hands turning you around by your shoulders and pushing you gently through the door with a laugh.

With a chime from the alarm and a loud jingle of the bells on the door, your presence alerted the owner of the little boutique that has become a favorite of yours to come to. “There’s my favorite couple! I was wondering when you two were going to come by and see us.”

“Good evening, ma’am.” He greeted with a nod. She reminded him of his grandmother - a little rounder with age, silver streaks in her blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and round glasses that complemented her face rather nicely.

“We’ve got some good ones this year, take your time kids!” The woman pointed towards the back of the store with the large display of several Christmas trees loaded down with ornaments to pick from. With barely contained excitement, you linked your fingers with Bob and dragged him towards the display.

“Have any idea what you are looking for this year?”

“Yes! Since we have officially moved here now that you’ve got a permanent assignment, I wanted to find one that has to do with your job. Can’t be that hard to find being in Fightertown, USA, right?” You mumbled, walking around the first tree in deep concentration. Your eyes squinting the further up you looked at the tree before moving to the middle one. “What about you, what were you thinking?”

“I’ll know it when I see it.” When you looked over at him all you could see was his undying affection shining back at you. The added twinkle of the Christmas lights surrounding you both added a soft glow, bounced off the ornaments and added streaks of color and prisms along his flight suit. The smell of cinnamon, cranberries, and jet fuel made you light headed for all the right reasons. God, you love this man.

Right above his head on the tree in front of him was the perfect ornament! “There! Grab that one.” You squealed, reaching your hand out and pointing out the pilot helmet with red and green stripes. Bob shook his head with a grin and got it down for you, placing it gently into your palm. “Now you need to find yours.”

Bob’s real ornament was already waiting on their tree at home but he would gladly buy a dozen more to make sure it was always full of memories. Walking slowly around the next tree, he crouched down to see the ones on the lowest hanging branches with more clarity and immediately his eyes were drawn to a glass ball with the colors of the northern lights all around it. He immediately held it up with a triumphant smile, “This one. When we went to Fairbanks to see my sister in September, we saw the northern lights for the first time together.”

“It’s beautiful, Bobby,” you said, gently clasping the bottom of the ball with your fingertips for closer inspection. “Let’s get home so we can put these on the tree. We can put on your favorite Christmas movie and curl up under the blanket on the couch, sound good?”

“Sounds like the perfect way to spend Christmas Eve.” He leads you up to the cash register, paying for the ornaments quickly while chatting with the shop owner before walking you to your car.

The drive home was quick, and his nerves were still nowhere to be found. This was the right thing for them, he knew it, he felt it. Why didn’t he do this sooner? Why wait so long to start their ever after?

Turning the lights on for the tree he watched as you carefully unwrapped each ornament, yours being placed on top of the tree, as far as your arms could reach. As soon as you picked up his, he wrapped an arm around your waist from behind and pointed to the middle of the tree. “How about right there, Darling? Looks like the perfect spot.”

He watched as you reached out and put the ornament where he pointed to before your whole body froze, gently holding the glass ball in place. He felt the long intake of breath that filled your chest, pressing further into his chest before letting go of the new colorful glass ball knowing it was secure. With a silent gulp that made his adams apple bob in his throat, he wrapped his other arm around you tightly.

In the center of the tree was a gold and silver ball, designed to open in the center just like a ring box. Inside there was a plush velvet black pillow holding the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Darling, I want to continue this tradition and make new ones with you for the next fifty years. I want to make sure you know every single day how much I need you, how much I love you. I’ve always known you were it for me, nobody else is ever going to love me the way you do and nobody is going to be able to complete you the way that I do. I’m sorry it took me this long, and I want no more excuses. Marry Me.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. It was a fact. It was a confident declaration.

Gently reaching out to the custom ornament, he pulled the beautiful vintage ring from its pillowed cushion. A thin gold band held an array of diamonds. A clear and beautiful round stone in the center surrounded by another circle of smaller round diamonds. The outer row is arranged like a sunburst. He saw it in an antique store two months before while you were searching for the perfect table for your entryway. He bought it the second your back was turned because he immediately thought of you. His sunshine. His Darling.

You felt the thin band wrap around your finger and settle at the base like it was always meant to be there. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it no matter how much your brain screamed at you to turn around and wrap yourself around this beautiful man that you had forever to spend with, so you did the next best thing. Grabbing his hand tightly in your own you whispered your own declaration, “It will always be yes.”

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#writing challenge #sailor-aviator's writing challenge #christmas fic #tgm #bob x reader #bob floyd #promote creators #bob floyd x you #top gun

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anonymous-rendezvous · 6 months

Text

The Sun’s Embrace

💖🖤❤️ Doppio/Hex/Ver x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod S 👿. Beta Read and Edited by Mod I ✨.

✧ — Contains: Established Poly Relationship [Doppio/Hex/Ver], getting together, light angst, panic attack, comfort, & fluff

✦ — Word count: 4.5k | Ao3

The boys have started to notice that you’ve been avoiding them, and they have no idea why. Deciding it's time to take matters into their own hands, Doppio suggests a plan of attack. After all, there’s no way this could end badly. Right? Based on the sentence prompt - “Can I hug you?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Standing at your dorm door, one hand tightly clutches at the strap of your bag while the other hovers over the doorknob. “Okay, I can do this.” The statement mumbled, a sort of pep talk as your weight shifted from one foot to the other. “Just do the normal greetings, don’t make eye contact, and make it to the front door.” You didn’t need to glance at the time to know that there was already a high chance the rest of the council members were awake and hanging around in the common room. Hence your panic. ‘I knew I should’ve set another alarm.’ You think, cursing yourself with a groan.

Taking another deep breath to steel your nerves, you throw the door open and rush down the hallway, head faced forward with one goal in mind; interact as little as possible. Upon entering the common room, the scent of coffee and breakfast hits you like a truck. That seems to be all your stomach needs to remind you that eating food is important, growling loudly as if to alert the entire dorm of your presence; causing you to grumble. The room's occupants turn, finding you standing awkwardly in the hall entrance. ‘Well, there goes leaving unnoticed.’

Your attention is drawn to Meloco as she giggles. As she leans against the island of the kitchen, she waves you over. “Well, someone’s hungry! Come on, we have plenty of food here. Well, unless you want donuts.” She looks at the council president from the corner of her eyes. “Ver's pretty much eaten most of those.” She laughs as Ver turns to glare at her, returning it with a small smirk. You hesitate for a moment, however, seeing as only Kotoka and Meloco are currently making themselves some food, you enter the kitchen.

“Ah, I think I’ll just take a wrap. Not feeling like a full-course breakfast today.”

Kotoka pipes up as she hears you and happily walks over to you. “Oh, I’m eating one too! Here I grabbed one for later, but you can have this one. I’ll just take a different one.” After giving her a brief thanks, you make your way to the fridge and grab a water, subtly taking a peek at the other three members. Ver is sitting on the couch enjoying a cup of coffee as he talks to Hex, who is enjoying some tea. ‘ Good, ’ you think to yourself, ‘ they’re in the same spot. ’ After staring for probably a bit too long at the pair, you close the fridge and look around for Doppio. Your eyes scan the room until you find him at the dining table, devouring his breakfast; not at all waiting for the girls that are going to sit with him.

You can’t help the fond chuckle that slips from your lips as you slide the bottled water into your bag. Once that's put away, you start opening your wrap while edging your way back out of the kitchen. “Okay, well, I gotta get going now. I’ll see you all later!” You make a rush for the door, causing everyone to startle; heads tilting simultaneously in confusion. In such a hurry you don’t see Ver quickly stand from the couch and try to make his way to you.

“Woah wait,” he hurriedly speaks up, hand reaching out in an attempt to try to slow you. “I wanted to discuss something with you today. We still have a fair amount of time before classes, so why don’t you sta–” He’s unable to even finish his sentence before you cut him off, the door already half-open in front of you.

“Ah, sorry, Kaichou, really gotta go. Okay, bye!” Your words are a rush as the door is quickly shut behind you. Ver stands there bewildered as he’s left staring at the door for a few seconds, processing what the hell just happened. He only regains his composure when Kotoka's voice suddenly breaks the silence, turning to look in her direction.

“Wonder what they're in such a hurry for.” The half-blonde pouts in thought before gasping, “I wonder if they have a date!” She turns towards the other, a beaming smile on her face. “Why else would they be in such a hurry?”

Ver feels a ghost of a frown cross his lips at the suggestion. However, Hex interjects before he’s able to turn down her suggestion, raising a hand in a calming motion. “Come now, Koto, let’s not jump to conclusions. They could be going to ask a professor about a class or maybe it’s something to do with family. There are many other reasons for them to be in such a hurry.”

“Ah well, I guess you’re right. It’d be exciting if it was true, though!” She laughs as she makes her way to the table with Meloco, the girls claiming the open seats across from Doppio.

“I think you just want a reason to fawn over them, Koto,” Meloco takes a sip from her coffee, then gives her a sly smile. “You’d just fangirl over watching them be all lovey-dovey like watching a Shoujo.”

Kotoka pouts, ready to object, but is interrupted by Doppio joining the conversation. “Ohhh right! That would explain all the manga I see in your room with the people kissing on the cover.”

“Doppio!” Kotoka screeches at him from across the table, trying to reach over to hit him as he just cackles from his seat, leaning back to make sure she can’t reach him.

Ver and Hex watch on, shaking their heads affectionately. Though Hex notices the hint of melancholy on Ver’s face, standing from the couch to talk to him. Reaching a hand out, he gently cups the small of the shorter man's back, the council president's eyes shifting to meet his. Leaning forward, Hex keeps his voice low as he whispers in the other's ear, “What’s wrong? Worried about them?”

Ver sighs and crosses his arms, turning his body slightly towards the other while lowering his voice as well. “How can I not be? I’m sure you’ve noticed it too... They’ve been avoiding us for weeks, Hex. And it’s only been the two of us and Doppio. They seem fine with the girls…”

Hex adjusts his glasses, silent for a moment before he responds. “I’ve noticed it too… I can’t think of anything we’ve done wrong. And even if there was, I’d like to believe they'd tell us… The past few weeks have been the same as always, so what’s changed?” Silence hangs between them as Ver thinks it over, recalling the past few weeks in his mind; not able to pinpoint a single clue that could help them. They’re so lost in thought they almost don’t notice Doppio joining them, Kotoka and Meloco having already left for class.

He looks between them both before questioning, “What’s wrong? You both look like you're thinking hard about something. Is it what we talked about last week?” Their pair of eyes look up at Doppio as he speaks, and Hex is quick to answer him.

“Ah, no no, I think that’s been settled between all of us Dopi.” He gives the taller man a smile before continuing; expression becoming sullen. “We’re worried about what happened earlier, you know, with…”

Doppio’s eyes blink open in recognition, putting his hands on his hips. “Ohhh yeah, what was that about? Do either of you know what’s with them avoiding me recently? They’ve stopped showing up to our weekly game nights!” He pouts, and he drops his head, sulking to himself.

“Okay, good, so you’ve noticed it as well. They’ve been doing it to all three of us then. We need a plan to handle this quickly before things spiral. This isn’t just bad for the council… but for our friendship with them as well.” Ver sighs once again, bringing a hand up to his mouth in thought.

“Actually, I think I have an idea…” Doppio pulls them both into a huddle, explaining his idea to them. Exchanging looks of confusion as the trio talks it out, but eventually, they agree to set the plans in motion. They agree to message if anything came up. They parted ways, heading to their own classes. Though not before Hex presses a kiss to each boys’ temples.

Feeling a little lighter than before, Ver waves them off with a smile. ‘ Let’s just hope that they're willing to cooperate even a little, or else it could all go out the window. ’ He thinks, sighing as the smile slips from his face. Now all they need to do is wait.

Really, that’s all they can do.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Time passes as your day goes on. It’d be just like any other if you weren’t constantly watching out for the trio anytime they pass you in the hall. Every time you saw them, you’d panic and immediately take cover, trying to calm your racing heart. Ducking behind arches on campus. Sliding into the nearest bathroom until they walked away. Whatever it took to avoid running into them. You hated it. Hated having to avoid them ever since this stupid crush had started brewing in your heart; making you avoid your friends. You’d been content for a long time just being their friend, so why did your stupid feeling decide to spring this on you? Especially for three people!

Letting out a big sigh, your shoulders sag as you wearily tug open the council building's doors, making it back after your last class. Planning to get some work done before passing out, you slide your jacket off and hang it on the coat rack before taking off your shoes, remembering to shut the door behind you. After setting your shoes aside, you take a sweep around the common room – almost sighing in relief when you don’t spot anyone else. Moving further in, you can’t help but notice just how quiet the building is. There’s a chance everyone is still wondering about campus, or maybe a mission suddenly sprung up. The thought helps to ease your tension, heading toward your room. However, just as you’re about to reach out for the doorknob, three tall figures suddenly slide in front of it, startling you as they block you from the safety of your room.

“Ah! What the hell, guys? You can’t just come out of nowhere–” Suddenly, Hex and Doppio are on either side of you, hooking their arms beneath yours and lifting you up. “Wait, what are you doing? Gu–guys? Guys?! Where are we going?” None of them grant you an answer, continuing to carry your struggling body, feet kicking in protest as Ver leads the way toward his room. As though they’ve practiced this before, Kaichou swiftly opens his door and holds it open as the other two pull you into his mini-apartment with ease. The door shuts with a thump, and you're only released when the lock clicks into place.

Both Hex and Doppio take a step back as you scramble to stand straight, turning on your heel to scold them. “What the fuck, guys? Is this some sort of prank? What is Doppio paying you two?” You squint between Hex and Ver. It’s unnerving, however, when they return your gaze with serious expressions. Your arms subconsciously wrap around yourself in comfort, voice cracking as you ask, “Ummm, what's going on he–”

“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Ver steps closer to you, which causes you to step back. He notices, making no further effort to close the distance; subconsciously softening his expression. Looking at Hex and Doppio behind him, they give him subtle nods, and he continues. Locking eyes with you, he asks, “You’ve been avoiding us, haven’t you?” You break eye contact first, seemingly finding the wall behind him to be much more interesting. Ver lets out a heavy sigh as he rubs his temple. “Listen, if we’ve done something wrong, you need to tell us. Because we have no idea, and being avoided like this isn’t gonna solve the problem…”

Hands clenched at your sides, biting down harder on your lip with each of his words, still unable to look at him. You can’t bring yourself to look at any of them. In truth, you’d known it was only a matter of time until they confronted you. It was unavoidable. Though you wish you could have had more time to prepare.

The silence stretches on. Hex lets out a long breath, crossing his arms over his chest, ready to break this standstill – however, you beat him to the punch. “You–” Your throat feels tight, having to force the words out as you try to remember to breathe, “None of you have done anything wrong…”

“Then why have you been avoiding us, darling?” Hex inquires, taking a step forward to stand beside Ver. If you had taken even a small glance at him, you might have seen the worry etched deep into his expression.

The pet name causes your heart to ache, hands moving to clutch at your shirt tightly; almost too tightly. “Be–because…” Frustration builds in your throat as you try to find the proper way to put this. Except, everything you think of just results in you outing yourself. Exposing your crush. Swallowing hard, you close your eyes tightly. It's hard to think over the sound of blood rushing in your ears - your heart pounding. The feelings you thought you could keep quiet bubble up until there’s no choice left but to let them spill out. “Because I’ve been dealing with these stupid feelings for you all, and I hate it! If I just– I thought if I just avoided you all, they’d go away, eventually. They’d have to, right? And–and then everything could go back to normal…” People say telling the truth can make you feel lighter, and yet it feels as though it’s dragged you down further. There’s a knot in your stomach, and the tightness in your throat grows worse; making it hard to breathe. Hell, just knowing you're in Ver’s room makes you feel sick. Standing in the middle of his space, encircled by his things – by him – makes these feelings worse.

Dreading what you think is to come next; the rejection, the scolding, the disgust. Even in your best-case scenario of one of them liking you, the one that does gets mad that your feelings are split. Not trusting you in the process. The anxiety makes you feel small, the knot in your stomach twisting– making you feel like you're going to puke, breathing heavy and shallow.

You’re so lost in your own head you can’t hear them calling your name in a panic. Reality rushing back to you as you register a warmth on your back. Your eyes open – when had you closed them? – except everything seems blurred. Raising a hand to rub blurriness away, it’s only then do you realize it’s because of tears. It takes a moment longer for you to realize you're crouched on the floor and a hand is running soothing circles over your back. Rubbing away what’s left of the tears, you take a deep, albeit shaky breath before looking towards the source of the comforting touch. Doppio is kneeling on the floor beside you, the Duke of Discipline likely having reached you first, but with a glance, you find Hex and Ver close by.

“Wha–” You have to cut your words off with a cough, trying to clear the uncomfortable feeling in your throat. “What happened?” The question had more so been directed at yourself because, really; ‘Tell me I didn’t just have a panic attack over losing them in front of them.’

“Well,” Doppio starts, “you were telling us about your feelings before going quiet. Your breathing had already seemed off, but then you started hyperventilating and practically caved in on yourself. Really scared us there. We thought you were gonna pass out.” The entire time he explains, Doppio keeps rubbing your back, the feel of his touch comforting. A bit too comforting for your complicated emotions right now, honestly. “Hex wanted to use his powers on you, but Ver said it might just make you panic again afterward. But I didn’t want to just leave you alone, so I thought some nice back rubs could help! Is it helping?” His head tilts in such an endearing way that you can’t stop your affection for him from growing stronger.

“Can… I hug you ?” The words slip past your lips without you thinking before quickly covering your mouth. What you hadn’t expected, however, is how suddenly you’re engulfed by Doppio’s arms; zero hesitation as he pulls you against his chest. Your hands shift from your mouth to his jacket, ready to push him away and explain yourself, except– you can’t bring yourself to. No, you don’t want to. Not when it feels so nice. Not when he smells so sweet and like home. Your heart pounds somehow faster when he rests his cheek on the top of your head, holding you tightly. Being so caught up in the hug, you almost miss the other two talking, something about water and finding a blanket; you don’t really catch all of it. Lost in your own world within the comfort of Doppio's arms.

By the time the pair have reappeared, your breathing has steadied, and you feel much calmer than you had before. Except… you still have emotions to deal with, and with every interaction you’ve had the past few minutes, it’s only made them worse. You practically feel the heat radiating off your face, palms sweaty as Doppio slowly lets you go, a rare sweet smile on his face as he looks at you. Embarrassed, you swivel your head away, looking up at Ver as you hear him approach and offer you a hand.

“Come on, let’s move outta my entryway. I think the living room would be more comfortable than sitting on the floor.” Taking his hand, he helps you up with ease, offering you a glass of water once you're steady. You quietly thank him before taking a big sip, the three leading you to the couch. It’s not a long walk to his living room and when you take your spot on the couch, you feel something being draped over you. Looking down, you realize it’s a blanket. One hand reaches up to brush against the soft fabric, while the other clutches at the cup of water in your lap. The couch dips beside you, and naturally, you turn your head to find Hex taking claim to one spot next to you. He’s sitting in such proximity to you, his thigh practically touches yours, his body angled in your direction.

Jerking your head back down, you stare at the water in the cup, trying not to acknowledge the closeness. This gives you a chance to see Doppio settle himself on the coffee table in front of you, not offering many places for you to look other than at your lap. Lucky for you, Ver speaks up, sitting on the other side of you; thankfully, at a more respectable distance.

“There we go. This is much better, right?” He watches the way you nod stiffly. The council president’s gaze softens as he watches you and speaks even softer as he places a hand on your back; replicating what Doppio was doing earlier. “Listen, we aren’t mad or upset at you for the way you're feeling. It’s okay to feel things and sometimes emotions change over time. That doesn’t make them bad, it just means that – in this case – you’ve found yourself more comfortable with us, right?” Ver chuckles, endeared as he watches the way you turn to look at him; shocked eyes locking with calm, muted magenta.

Shaking your head, your gaze shifts back down before returning to him, expression pensive. “Ar–are you sure? I mean it’s…” You pause, swallowing hard. “It’s not just feelings for one of you, it’s all three of you. Won’t that complicate things?”

Doppio laughs, quickly drawing your attention to him. “No, not at all! This works out perfectly for us. It's a win!”

“... Huh?” You tilt your head, looking at him with utter confusion.

“Well,” Hex finally speaks up from the other side of you, drawing your attention to him now, “he could have said it better, but we’ve actually been discussing our feelings for you and each other for a few months now, darling.” He chuckles, placing a hand lightly on your knee. “We all came to an agreement that if you liked us too, we’d share or even officially get together. We’ve been careful to keep it private for the past few weeks. Didn't need people butting in and asking questions when we didn’t even know if you liked us or not. I mean, we wanted you to be a part of us from the very start…”

Blinking a couple of times, you can’t help but stare off into space, completely baffled by this new information. Once you give it a moment, you gather enough of your senses back to speak. “Wait, wait …” Your head twists around, looking towards each of them before settling back on the therapist beside you. “So all this time that I’ve been avoiding you, the three of you have discussed this? And… and you like me back?”

“I’d even go so far and say ‘I love you’, but Ver told me to save that.” Hex laughs as he watches you get immensely flustered, sputtering out your words. Ver, reaching around you, lightly hits him on the arm and gives the taller man a soft glare.

“Well, so much for ‘ saving ’ that…” He sighs before leaning a bit closer to get your attention, moving his hand to your shoulder. “But yes, we all like you. Though, even if we didn’t, there was no need to be so scared about talking to us about it. I might be the council president, but I am also your friend. I’m sure the other two feel the same as well.” He looks to Hex and Doppio for confirmation, and both nod in agreement.

Seeing that, you can’t help but huff, shoulders relaxing a bit. “I guess… I guess I over-complicated it by avoiding it, didn’t I?” The trio nods in unison, causing you to let out a bigger huff. “Well shit, what else is new…” Taking a deep breath, you set your water down on the coffee table, careful not to set it too close to Doppio. You look at Hex’s hand on your thigh and Ver’s hand on your shoulder before gazing at Doppio, who’s sitting in front of you. Taking in the fact you have three new boyfriends now, you pat the hands that are on you, looking around at the trio. “This is definitely a surprise, but I… I’m glad that it worked out so well. I feel really bad for avoiding you all for so long, though, so I’ll have to find some way to make it up to you.”

“Hehehe~” The three of you hear Doppio let out a mischievous giggle, which instinctively makes you nervous. “I can think of a few ways, but I think I got the perfect idea for this specific scenario!” He scoots to the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward so he’s just inches from your face.

“U–uh,” You slightly panicked, looking to the other two for help. Bad idea. The pair – who had quickly picked up on the duke’s idea – decide to play along, leaning their faces closer to you as well. You don’t know whether the heat you feel is the blood rushing to your face or their breath fanning across your skin, quickly looking between them as you plead. “Gu–guys, come on. No need to get so hasty! I can, umm, do chores for you? Or maybe, uh, laundry! I know nobody likes doing laundry!”

“Aww look, our baby’s getting all embarrassed.” You glare as Hex teases you further, his words dripping with honey, as his thumb draws circles along the side of your knee. “What? Don’t want kisses from your new boyfriends?”

You pout in response. “No, no, I do. I mean, um, fuck– I just–” Your mind spins as your heartbeat pound in your ears, hands gripping at the fabric on your thighs. They don’t give you time to think, taking your words as consent as they move closer; lips colliding with your skin. Doppio reaches his hands forward, placing one on your knee opposite Hex’s hand, and the other grips the therapist’s arm as he places a chaste kiss on your lips. Ver and Hex – seeing as your lips are occupied – kiss your cheeks. Ver’s are feather-light and slow, whereas Hex’s are a bit more forceful and quick. You feel nearly overwhelmed by all the sudden affection. The only thing you're able to muster is kissing Doppio back, puckering your lips every time he briefly pulls back. You can feel how he smiles against your lips, giggling as he fulfills your silent requests.

A few minutes pass of them just showering you with kisses, and when they deem they’ve had sufficient payment, they pull back; smiling as they’ve left you in a different kind of daze now. You wonder if this is how the Pokemon Spinda feels, tottering about. The men can’t help but laugh, completely endeared as Hex snakes his arm around your waist to keep you steady, as you recollect yourself.

Placing a hand on your chest, you take slow deep breaths before asking, “I’m gonna have to get used to that, aren’t I?”

“Mhm! Let’s see you avoided us for…” Doppio starts counting on his fingers before shooting you another mischievous smile. “A week and a half? So we have a fair bit to make up for.” You let out a nervous yet amused sigh as Doppio makes this arrangement in front of you, knowing that you can’t argue your way out of the hole you’ve dug yourself.

‘Oh boy, I’m really in for it now, aren’t I?’

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Bonus added by Mod I ✨ as a funny hehe haha:

The four of you have ended up in a cuddle pile, barely fitting all together on Ver’s couch. Said man suddenly stiffens against you. You shoot him a curious glance as he pulls back enough to glare at the counselor beside you. “Hex?”

“Yes, dear?” He smoothly replies.

“Is that your hand on my butt?” You have to smack a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“It’s an accident.”

“...........It’s still on my butt, Hex.” The glare on the council president’s face is dark. However, Hex just smiles sweetly back.

“It’s still an accident.”

“Hey no fair!” Doppio whines, sliding his hand down beside Hex’s. “If Hex gets a handful of Kaichou, I want one, too.”

“Get out.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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trickphotography2 · 4 months

Text

'tis the damn season | Chapter 5

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 4.8K

Note: This chapter includes brief mentions of miscarriages.

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 4 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 5

The ride back to the ranch was quiet, interrupted by the buzzing of Jake’s phone. Fanboy had apparently found Shayla’s video announcing the pregnancy and sent it to the Dagger group chat.

Merry Christmas. And congrats Hangman?????

The squad chimed in with their half-hearted congratulations and pointed comments that they hadn’t expected to find out about the first Dagger baby online. After scrolling through the first few messages, he silenced his phone. When they approached the main house, he barely waited for Will’s truck to stop before throwing open the door and heading inside. “Merry Christmas, asshole!” his big brother called through the window before heading off to the foreman’s quarters and his pregnant wife.

Jake knew he was being an asshole. Will had done nothing but be honest, but he didn’t want to hear those hard truths.

“You gotta let her go. It’s not fair to you or her or Shayla.”

And he knew that. He’d gotten his hopes up after running into Cece in Austin and started thinking about how to convince her to give him another chance. He’d been two years into his eight-year obligation after finishing flight school and had even thought about promising her that he would resign from the Navy after completing it. But when she stopped answering his texts and calls, Jake realized that it had just been a bathroom hookup for her. Especially when she’d ignored him the next year when he’d tried to say hello in the grocery store.

Watching the love of his life walk away from him for the third time was one of the hardest things Jake had to do. Which is why he’d avoided coming home for the last six years. It was easier to get over heartbreak if he wasn’t reminded of her at every turn. There wasn’t a place in Magnolia that wasn’t associated with some memory of Cece.

And the longer he was away, the easier it was to forget. It took a long time for him to not see her favorite flower and think of her. To stop reaching for his phone to call her when something exciting happened or he needed someone to talk to. To not want to send her pictures as he traveled to places they’d imagined visiting while lying in bed together, dreaming about what their life would be like.

It had only taken seeing her in his mama’s kitchen for all those feelings to rush back. Even as the woman he’d promised to marry and was carrying his baby stood in front of him, Jake didn’t want to hurt Cece by saying that Shayla was his fiancée. He’d caught that brief flicker of pain on her face before she’d smiled, and he’d reminded himself that it was her choice to leave. That, no matter their history, they didn’t have a claim on one another. Which is what he tried to remind himself as he watched the firefighter kiss her. Just because he’d promised to be her first and last kiss didn’t mean anything.

But now he wasn’t so sure it was her choice that she left. Had he pushed her out by keeping his deployment secret?

Jake’s musings were cut short when he opened the door and heard his parents talking in the kitchen. Kicking off his boots and hanging up his coat, he crept toward the stairs until Pops called, “Jacob? That you, son?”

“Yes, sir,” he sighed, letting go of the banister and walking toward the kitchen. Mama and Pops sat at the table, holding hands as they drank their nightly cup of tea. For as long as he could remember, this had been their evening routine - spending twenty minutes together, usually after he and Will went to bed, just to talk and spend time with one another. Even when Pops moved to the foreman's house for a few weeks when Jake was 16, not long after Will had left for college, they would keep up their nightly talks.

“Have a good time in town?” Mama asked, watching her youngest pour himself a glass of water.

“Saw lotsa folks I haven’t seen since high school,” Jake shrugged. “Good to catch up with ‘em.” His parents shared a look before Mama pushed to her feet.

“I’m heading up.” Jake caught how she used the table to help her stand and the grimace as her bones cracked. When she neared, he noticed the sad, tired look in her eyes before she crooked a finger at him. Leaning down, he couldn’t help but smile when she brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Night, baby. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama.” After patting his chest, she rinsed her mug and put it in the dishwasher before leaving.

“Pull up a chair.” Though said lightly, the order in Pop’s voice was unmistakable. Taking his water with him, Jake sat beside his father and scrubbed a hand through his hair. At the older man’s heavy sigh, he hung his head, feeling like a kid again. “Son.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“This trip hasn’t gone as I thought it would.” Pops hummed, and Jake glanced up at him.

“It’s certainly been an interesting few days.” Jake huffed, shaking his head. When Pops cleared his throat, he forced his gaze up. The older man looked tired as he ran a hand through hair that was more grey than brown these days. “Your mother and I were talking about it, and… we’d like you to have a conversation with Shayla about respect in this house.”

“Pops - ” Holding up a hand, the older man sighed.

“I know she’s your fiancée, but this is my home. And respect for others is an expectation here, as you know. Right?”

“Yes, sir.” Bill hesitated for a moment before pressing on.

“I know that you and Julie have… a complicated past, but that girl is family. She was long before the two of you got together. And she will be respected as such. What Shayla did was unacceptable, especially after I opened my house to Julie to get her work done. I expect her to apologize.”

“I… I’ll try.” Pressing his lips into a thin line, the older man breathed heavily through his nose before sipping his tea. Like his mother, when Pops stood, Jake could see the effort it took. His parents weren’t old - just in their mid-50s - but life wasn’t easy when you did daily physical labor. Bill and Kerry Seresin dedicated every day to maintaining the ranch and making sure that there was something to pass on to their boys. But seeing the difference in them since his last trip to Magnolia made Jake regret that he hadn’t come home sooner.

After setting his mug in the dishwasher and starting it, Pops clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I’m headed up. I’ll see you for chores?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, the older man walked toward the hallway, pausing in the doorframe.

“I love you, son. But I don’t like the person you are now. I don’t recognize him.”

Jacob Seresin wasn’t a man who cried. He could count on one hand the time’s he’d done it since turning 18, but those words, filled with disappointment, hit him like a bullet through the chest. Tears sprang to his eyes as he hung his head in shame.

He didn’t recognize himself either. Hadn’t for years.

Not since Cece left him.

He’d told himself that she just needed time. That they would find their way back to each other. Before she got into her car to start the drive back to Texas, he told her that he would be waiting if she changed her mind. They’d agreed to keep talking when she got home to see if they could fix it. But he still didn’t know how to tell her he was deploying in two months because that would mean telling her he’d known all along and kept it a secret.

Finally, the night before he left, Jake told her he’d been called up for a last-minute mission. Cece had been silent for a long time - what he’d taken for worry but now recognized as her seeing another lie - before telling him to be careful. She’d agreed to email him while he was gone, and their messages had been sporadic.

And then he saw the pictures of her with someone else once she was back in Austin, and his heart shattered. So, he focused on making himself move on. And the more he focused on making himself forget her, the more he became Hangman. His callsign, given to him not long after he got drunk in flight school and let it slip that he’d talked his childhood sweetheart into pushing back their marriage, haunted him daily. So, he leaned into the idea that he was unreliable. That he would put himself first. Because it hurt less to embrace the idea that he would leave his fellow pilots out to dry than the woman he loved. Hangman was cocky and didn’t give a shit what others thought of him.

Women didn’t look at him with expectation, and for a little while, that was freeing. The first time he’d slept with someone else, he’d groaned Cece’s name into her neck and had been rightly slapped. But as time went on, he was able to forget about her for a little while. He dated and tried not to compare the women to her.

Meeting Shayla had been an accident. He hadn’t known it then, but she’d gone to the Hard Deck intending to make a video about military guys. Jake had gone there, planning to have a beer or two before returning to his new house and unpacking. Word had come down while they were on the way back from the uranium mission that he was issued orders to relocate to North Island. Slowly, the other Daggers were notified of their new orders as well.

But that January night, Jake had been alone, toasting his new three-year contract. Lost in his thoughts about where he’d imagined himself being at this point in his career - married, with a kid or two - he hadn’t noticed Shayla until she was beside him. She’d startled him out of his thoughts by asking what was good there, and that was that. They’d ended the night with him teaching her to play darts and exchanging numbers.

Being with Shayla was easy in the beginning. She hadn’t expected too much of him, which was good as he settled into his new part-time instructing role. She was happy to fill his silence when he came home tired from work and unable to talk about what he did. When it came to dates, she was more than willing to plan where they went. And by the time he realized that the videos and pictures he thought she was taking for herself were being posted online, her followers had grown. When he asked her to stop, she’d pleaded with him to let her keep doing it - that she was trying to launch a career from it.

And, against his better judgment, he’d agree to keep her happy. Try as he might to ignore it, the filming got more intrusive, and he felt himself getting less comfortable being around her. Those rare moments that he could just be Jake with her were lost, as she wanted to show off her “cocky pilot boyfriend.”

For once, he welcomed the series of short deployments he was sent on, anticipating the change of scenery and time away. The only one he regretted was in late January when he woke to a call from Mama saying Mr. Ryan had passed. He wouldn’t be stateside in time for the funeral, as much as he would have moved heaven and earth to be there for Cece. But from across the globe, he struggled to pick up his phone and call her. Hearing Cece upset when there was nothing he could do was a certain kind of hell, especially when he couldn’t even hold her. When he was back, he debated asking for leave to go home but decided against it. Cece’s silence spoke volumes; the last thing she needed was him intruding in her grief. So, instead, he asked Mama to pass along that he was thinking of her whenever they talked. He’d opened a text to message her a few times but closed it every time, convincing himself that she’d changed her number.

Until one night, he’d opened it only to find three blinking dots. Heart in his throat, he’d watched it for nearly fifteen minutes before they disappeared for good.

Jake wasn’t sure what flipped in him that August morning when he’d gone to Cece’s profile and typed out his annual ‘Happy Birthday’ message. He found himself scrolling through her pictures far enough back to find ones of them together. Pausing on one from her graduation from UT, he couldn’t help but smile, remembering how nervous he’d been that weekend. Having been given leave at the last minute, he’d almost drained his bank account to get a red-eye flight Friday night to get to Austin in time to surprise her. While waiting for her to cross the stage and accept her diploma, Jake formally asked Mr. Ryan for permission to marry his daughter.

Sighing, the older man had nodded. “As long as you don’t ask her this weekend. Let this weekend be only about her.” The ring had been burning a hole in his pocket, but if that was the only thing Cece’s father asked of him, he could wait another week until his commissioning.

When he stored his phone in his locker and left for the carrier mess hall, Jake knew he had to end it with Shayla. As ready as he was to commit to someone and get his life back on track, he knew it wasn’t with her. He didn’t feel like he could relax around her - could never lower his guard in case her camera was rolling.

And then, as his brother accused him of doing, he thought with his dick on Halloween instead of his head. As much as he wanted to move on, Jake wouldn’t leave his kid behind. The night Shayla told him she was pregnant, he’d gotten drunk and tried to think of a way to convince her to give him the baby. She’d never mentioned wanting kids, and he would never keep them from her. But she made it clear that she and the baby were a package deal - if Jake wanted frequent access to his kid, Shayla wanted to get married. If not, she would get a lawyer involved and point out how much he was gone during their relationship to prove that he would be an inconsistent parent.

Hangman might leave his coworkers out to dry, even the love of his life, but he would never do that to his child.

So he’d agreed to marry her. But now, seeing how Shayla treated the people he loved, Jake knew it was time to set his stipulations. That started with respecting his family and apologizing for the drama she’d caused. It ended with a long engagement and time with a couple’s therapist before they married.

As he climbed the stairs, Jake knew that Shayla would again demand that he cut contact with Cece. And, as much as it hurt to imagine never seeing her again, Jake would agree to that. If he had to trade his past for his future, he would.

Julie smiled as Drew spun her, tugging gently to draw her back into his arms. Christmas music played as he leaned down to brush his lips to hers. Shaking off his hand, she stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, tugging him down to kiss him again, smiling against his lips when he pulled her closer. His hands were warm on her hips, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. It’d been so long since anyone had held her like this.

Swaying as the song ended, Julie looked up in time to see Will Seresin grabbing his coat and standing, a wad of napkins soaking up spilled beer on his table. Their eyes met as he tugged on his jacket, and he gave her a strained smile before walking out of Mikey’s. “I think we pissed off your ex,” Drew said, chuckling softly.

“What?”

“He just stormed out.” Julie felt her stomach drop as she lowered her arms, looking around the bar to see people looking at her and whispering. A blush crept up her face as she forced her chin high while grabbing his hand and retreating to their table, knowing that a new chapter had been added to Magnolia’s ongoing Jake and Julie saga.

Which was stupid, she thought, dropping into her chair and taking a sip of her beer. They had ended things so long ago, and he was getting married and having a baby. She was single and had every right to kiss another man. It was no one else’s business - especially Jake’s. But if he’d just made a scene, she would be the one to have to deal with the fallout of it, just like she always did.

The gossip is what had driven her from Magnolia when she’d come home to lick her wounds after Virginia. Julie had naively thought people wouldn’t ask why she was home instead of living with her fiancé. Why she no longer wore the engagement ring on her left hand. But almost every time she stepped out of the house, someone remarked about it. Even running into Ally was hard - for as long as they’d known each other, the two women had expected to be sisters-in-law, but now they were nothing. Thankfully, the Seresins hadn’t turned their back on her and were supportive and happy to see her when she saw them in town. She knew that they, like Jake, were hoping that this was just a bump in the road on the way that led to them getting married.

But they hadn’t seen Jake in Virginia. They hadn’t seen him laughing with his buddies on the beach as her heart broke, listening to the spouses talk about the upcoming deployment. Hadn’t spent every single day waiting for him to come clean and tell her that he was leaving again. That she would be alone, away from her friends and family, in a place she wasn’t sure she liked for seven months. None of them crawled into bed alone and tried not to cry when he crept back in late at night.

After a month, it became too much. Daddy had come home from the firehouse to find her crying after being asked at the gas station why she was home when she should be with her fiancé, her former classmate pointedly glancing at her empty ring finger. “Julie, I want you to listen to me,” Daddy had said, holding her tightly as she sobbed. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation for why you’re back. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. If Jake didn’t realize how much he was asking of you without doing the minimum of being honest, he didn’t deserve you. You deserve to be the center of someone’s world, not an afterthought.”

Daddy helped her pay for an apartment in Austin for those first few months until she got back on her feet. She avoided returning to Magnolia for a long time and loved hosting her daddy in the city. Her friends encouraged her to go out, and Julie found herself exploring and enjoying herself in a way she hadn’t for the almost six years she’d lived there. Once Jake had deployed and their communication was limited to emails, it felt almost like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She no longer had to listen to him mumble a soft “I love you, baby, I miss you” as they ended the call or his offers to buy a plane ticket so she could come to visit him.

Hesitantly, she’d dipped her toe in the dating pool. Her friends set her up with guys or gently nudged her toward someone when they would go out dancing. And, at first, it felt wrong. The first time she slept with someone else, she’d gone home and cried in the shower. As much as she tried to enjoy the feeling of someone else’s touch, she couldn’t stop comparing it to Jake’s. It ended with that guy shortly after, and Julie decided she would only casually date.

That night in Austin had proven just how little the Jake Seresin-sized hole in her heart had healed when he’d crashed into her life again, tearing down her defenses like tissue paper. For a moment, as he held her while dancing, she’d let herself imagine what would happen if she took him home. Maybe they’d just needed two years apart to experience life before finding one another again. She’d missed his touch, his laugh, and how safe she felt in his arms. But the pregnancy scare had reminded her how much his arms held her back.

And then, the first time she went back to Magnolia, she ran into Jake. The chance run-in had made the whispers start up again, and Julie cut her trip home short. She knew it hurt Daddy, but he understood when she left the day after Christmas rather than staying for another week.

So, seeing people look at her and whisper in the aftermath of Jake making a scene made Julie want to leave. The longer she sat there, the more she gave them to talk about. As if seeing the hesitancy in her eyes that could no longer meet his, Drew cleared his throat. “You alright, Jules?”

Taking a deep breath, Julie straightened her spine and swiped at the condensation on her beer. “I’m fine. Just… Do you ever feel like you’ve outgrown a place?”

The corner of Drew’s mouth lifted before he sipped his beer.

Jake paused outside Shayla’s door and took a deep breath before knocking. When she called for him to come in, he opened the door to see her sitting cross-legged on the bed. “Hey.”

“Oh. You’re back,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. Sighing, Jake crossed the room to sit beside her, waiting for her to take her eyes off the computer screen. “What?” she finally demanded.

“I want to talk.”

“I’m working.”

“Shayla.”

“Jacob.”

“Please.” Breathing out heavily, she scowled at him.

“Are you going to yell at me again?” Sighing, he scrubbed a hand down his face.

“No. I’m sorry for raising my voice earlier.” Sniffing, she set aside her computer and stood.

“Fine. I’ll be right back.” With a groan, Jake fell back onto the bed, putting a hand over his eyes. She did this whenever he tried to confront her with something - he would say they needed to talk, and she would make him wait at least five minutes before doing it. He recognized it as some way to make sure that they did it on her terms, and it annoyed the hell out of him.

Her computer chimed with a text somewhere around the two-minute mark. Jake glanced at it instinctually - the screen was angled toward him but partially closed. He’d closed his eyes when two words registered: rainbow baby.

Without thinking, he reached out to swipe the mousepad to keep the computer from going into sleep mode as the screen darkened again. Once Shayla’s video editing software was minimized, he saw the text thread with her best friend, and his blood ran cold at her last message.

Yessssss! Then you can say you have a rainbow baby and get so much more interaction 🌈 🤰

Jake felt his stomach drop as tears sprang to his eyes. Shayla had miscarried and hadn’t told him.

But then the second text appeared.

Gotta have him fuck you, though. Can’t fake a test if he doesn’t touch you

Sitting up, he grabbed the computer and scrolled further up to read their chat. And felt the sickening combination of grief and relief.

Fuck you. We just need to get home and away from this hick town. Once I have my Jakey back, it’ll be fine

The message popped up, and he couldn’t help the watery chuckle that escaped. Apparently, Shayla had her phone with her and was responding. The usual flash of irritation at being called Jakey was smothered under the tidal wave of emotion.

And there it was.

Quickly, he took screenshots of the chat and sent them to himself, downloading them onto his phone. He felt sick as he looked at the texts again.

“What are you doing?” Shayla asked, standing in the doorway. Her eyes darted from the computer in his lap to his pale face. Closing the laptop, he stood.

“Was it ever real?”

“Was what real?” At his blank look, she took a step forward. Moving to keep the bed between them, Jake glanced at her stomach. “W-what do you mean, Jakey?” she asked, putting a hand on her flat stomach.

“Don’t lie to me.” The words were hissed through clenched teeth as Jake’s hands fisted. It made horrible sense.

“I’m not!”

Not once had he seen her sick in the morning.

“I swear!”

Her refusal to let him go to the doctor with her.

“Jake, stop being an idiot,” she stomped, tears glistening in her eyes.

Her constantly trying to sleep with him before they left California, even when he said no.

“Were you ever pregnant?” he demanded. Her eyes darted from the computer back to him before she wrapped her arms around her middle.

“I-I miscarried a-and didn’t know how to t-tell you!”

Lifting his phone, he pulled up one of the screenshots and read it. “Maybe he’ll actually knock you up this time, so you don’t have to pretend.”

The blood drained from Shayla’s face, the phone falling from her limp fingers. “J-Jake…”

“Were you. Ever. Pregnant?”

“Yes!” A cruel laugh burst from him, and Jake spun on his heel, gripping his hair.

“Who are you lying to, Shayla? Me or your best fucking friend?!” The texts were seared into the back of his eyes when they closed.

You can probably buy a fake test

Did you see the views on the last video????????!!!! Wait until we do the official pregnancy reveal!!! I’ll talk him into doing a cute one

Fuck, he passed out before we had sex. Fucking drunk asshole

It’s too late to say you’re still pregnant. Tell him you miscarried???? He won’t leave you if he thinks that

“I’m not lying! Baby - ” Her hand landed on his shoulder, and he jerked away from her.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snapped. Running a shaking hand over his mouth, Jake quickly brushed away the tears on his cheeks.

There was never a baby.

He was never going to be a father.

He’d almost married a woman he didn’t love.

“Jake, please, just - ”

“I don’t want to hear it, you fucking lying bi - ”

“What’s going on in here?” Mama demanded, tucking her robe close to her body. Her eyes darted from Jake to Shayla, taking in the tears on both their faces. Behind her, Pops frowned.

“Noth - ”

“Don’t fucking talk to them,” Jake yelled. “I can’t BELIEVE I brought you here and made excuses for you being a - ”

“Jacob Thomas,” Pops cut him off. “What the hell is going on.” Ignoring his father, Jake leveled his gaze on a trembling Shayla.

“Jakey, I - ” When she reached up to cup his face, he caught her hands, a disgusted smile crossing his mouth when his eyes landed on the ring he’d put on her finger.

It was all a lie.

Dropping her right hand, he held her left and quickly tugged the gaudy thing from her finger before letting go of her and taking a step back. “I want you out of here tonight. Take the rental and get the fuck out. I don’t ever want to hear from you again, you manipulative, psychotic - ”

“Jacob!” His watery eyes rose to see his parents' worried expressions. “Son, what - ”

“Looks like you’re only having one grandkid,” he said softly, shoving the engagement ring into his pocket and taking another step away from Shayla. She reached for him, her nails raking his arm as he walked past her.

“Jakey!”

“What?” Mama asked, eyes widening in shock.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said quickly, kissing his mama’s head before pushing past her and stomping down the stairs.

He could hear his parents calling for him and Shayla crying as he put on his boots and hung the rental keys on the peg, swapping them for his mama’s truck keys.

Slamming the door behind him, he hurried down the steps, breath misting before him. The gravel crunched under the tires as he sped off, windshield wipers doing their best against the snow as he let himself cry.

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

Author's Note: Another huge thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for helping me tread the line with this chapter, and making sure that Jake's anger came off as realistic without going overboard.

Now we know why Julie has been so guarded with Jake - she's always the one dealing with the fall out in Magnolia. And, as much as Jake loved her, he was holding her back. Kudos to Mr. Ryan for wanting just one weekend for the attention to only be on his daughter's accomplishments.

Aaaaand Shayla. I'm really happy that people picked up on her not being pregnant 🫣 There's still a lot of drama to come, so buckle up!

Read Chapter 6

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#top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #'tis the damn season fic

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 6 months

Text

Fit for a King - WIP - “Sit” (Dual POV)

Fit for a King - Masterlist

a/n: this got kinda long, progressing their relationship

(nsfw, almost pure smut, some secrecy, overstimulation)

Everybody's getting on the truck after we stow away all the stuff in the other one. I'm the last one to jump in and 9 pairs of eyes are looking at me (the rest of their faces are covered by the masks) as I'm left standing. "Are you kidding me?"

Nikto is the first one to chime in. "I don't think they factored in the median size of a KorTac operator when saying that these trucks can carry 10." Some of them chuckle. "And I'm supposed to stand now?", I ask them, pulling up an eyebrow. There's a little scuffle as they rearrange when the man right next to me catches my wrist and says: "Sit."

The scuffling stops as the remaining 8 pairs of eyes land on the one offering me his lap to sit on. Even sitting down he's almost at my eye level. Aksel clears his throat and says: "We made some space on the bench." Between him and Nikto was now a hand’s breath of bench unoccupied. It isn't even enough space to fit a small child.

König scoffs and pulls me into him, so I land on his thigh. "Gonna talk to Horangi.", he says, so everybody hears it. "It's unacceptable not to have enough room for every operator." I put my hands on my own lap as he stabilizes my back with his hand, for the others not to see.

Nobody says anything else and I just try to ignore the situation. And how it makes me feel. How he makes me feel.

Last night when I was this close to him, two of his fingers were inside me and I was seeing stars. Now I can feel his thigh against the very same parts and I will my thoughts to steer away from the path they're heading down now. (Also ignoring the fact that he stole my fucking panties.)

______________________________________________________________

She's sitting on my lap.

She. Is. Sitting. On. My. Lap. Again.

The options were limited. I wasn't gonna let her sit between Aksel and Nikto, those asswipes. The gaze I shot them when they offered her the small spot between them to squeeze herself into, lesser men would've cried. I saw the reactions on their faces and I realized: I need to calm down. I gotta pump the breaks. Like the truck is doing right now and her ass gets pressed into me, onto my thigh. I grit my teeth as I feel the plump curve of her booty against me.

I said I wasn't gonna do anything, that we couldn't do anything. Then I had to go and finger her yesterday because I thought, oh, it's only for her pleasure, to give her comfort, make her feel a bit better. And then I had to taste her because I couldn't help myself. And then I wanked myself to sleep with the same hand that has been inside her.

Jetzt haben wir den Salat1.

And now what. Now she's sitting on my thigh, looking like a personified angel in tactical gear, even with the mask on. Her faint scent makes me want to eat her up, throw her down on the floor, tear her clothes off and fuck her, right here and now. Give the others something to really turn their eyes away from. I can feel my blood starting to boil as I look around the truck, every one of my mates looking away as soon as I meet their gaze on us. I'm getting annoyed and we still have some way to go.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my knee and another pair of eyes on me. I meet her eyes as she leans down a bit whispering: "Everything okay?" I can't form any words that's why I only nod. She hesitates for a few moments but accepts my short answer and looks to the front again. Her hand stays on my knee though, softly stroking ever so often, until I feel how it calms me down having her touch me. Herrgott2, I'm so fucking touch starved.

_____________________________________________________________

I'm in my room reading the dossiers for the next mission. My head is already swimming from all the information and I'm already tired. When we got home from the mission and I could finally hop off König's lap (Schoß, that's what they call it in german), everybody scrammed in an instant, something better to do than to linger around.

I went for a shower, worked out and then I went to the shooting range, to drop some more dummies. When I was content with the shots, I got back to the room. The two operators with whom I share it are still out on another mission. And now I'm studying the dossiers. And I catch my thoughts steering towards König again. I even thought about looking into my old stuff from school when I learned german. More than about german vocabulary I thought about the last few days and how it confused the shit out of me, the way he is behaving with me.

On cue or talk about the devil if you will, he comes into the room without even knocking. I turn around on my chair to look at him while he closes the door and just stands there for a moment.

His tall figure dwarfs the small room, the tactical gear is gone and he's wearing a simple black sweatpants and t-shirt. The helmet is gone, but the hood is still on. Yesterday I only saw his hands, today I can see that there are tattoos on both his forearms. Mostly black and grey shapes, I can't make out what they are in this lighting.

"What are you doing here?", I ask him which seems to pull him from his frozen state. With three quick strides he's right in front me and drops to his knees. "I need another taste of you.", he says looking me into my eyes and the lust burning in them makes it unmistakable how he means that.

"I-" His brazen offer has me at a loss for words and when I don't finish the sentence, his hand trails up my thigh. "Please, it's been driving me crazy all day, I need to feel you on my lips." My chin is making its way to the floor as I look at the man in his hood, who had been domineering before, comforting yet unapologetic yesterday, and now is begging me on his knees. "Are you begging me to let you eat me out?", I ask him for clarification. He nods. "Yes." – "Okay.", I say and he doesn't need more than that. His hands are pulling at my pants and I help to get them of, reminded of what we did not that many hours ago. He drops the pants on the floor and doesn't waste any seconds to get to my panties. They're gone and I can anticipate the moment when he finally looks at me. His eyes are glued to the spot between my legs as I open them and drop my knees to the side. I see his brows furrow and his gaze flicks up. "Don't say anything.", I tell him. I shaved when I was under shower after coming home. A little treacherous sign. Of expecting to maybe or maybe not get laid. At least that's one possible interpretation.

I can't see the full expression on his face, but just his eyes speak volumes. He doesn't say anything, just chuckles and then his fingers grip my thighs and his head dives down between my legs. There is no hesitation, no teasing, no soft lead into it. He doesn't waste a single moment and eats me out like he was starving before.

It's his mouth on me, his lips pressing against me, his tongue pushing inside me and circling my clit. My hips buck up when he does this for the first time and all I get is a soft grunt and his hands gripping my thighs even tighter, so I can't escape a single one of his touches. It's everything all at once and I'm losing my mind fast. Soft whines and moans escape my throat and as he sucks on my clit for the first time, I come. Holy shit.

"Again.", he growls, not stopping any of the movements as I still feel the waves of pleasure crash over me, and my sounds get louder and louder. Before I can even register what he's doing, he pushes a piece of fabric between my lips. My panties! "Sssh, Prinzessin3, we don't want the others to hear.", he says, his voice hoarse, his mouth not really leaving my pussy, so the huffs of breath are tickling me as he speaks.

The moans and mewls are muffled by the fabric now, but it doesn't make the sound in this room less erotic. König's kisses, the hungry licks and laps, my muffled cries, the way it sounds when his knees shuffle over the floor as he tries to get even closer. I look down at him and the sight in front of me paired with his restless licking almost makes me come again. His head is framed between my naked thighs, his hood is spilling over my stomach, obscuring the view on what he's doing, his big hands are gripping the curve of my ass moving my hips to his rhythm. Suddenly he looks up and meets my gaze as I feel his tongue dipping into my wetness again and again. I can only feel and imagine what it must look like when his tongue dips down into me. And then he fucking winks at me. I come on his tongue hard, harder than the first time, and if it hadn't been for his arms holding me up, I would have toppled off the chair.

By now I'm also glad that he stuffed my mouth with the panties because of the sounds I'm making. Someone walking by would've surely heard me. Hot tears are running down my face as I whine about how it is too much. "Please, Liebes4, only one more, I wanna be soaked in your juices.", he tells me as one of his hands finds my pussy and one of his fingers sinks into me. He chuckles, the soft sound sending shivers down my spine. "Mmh, so wet again.", he recalls his comment from when he first pushed his fingers into me.

I’m so overstimulated already, but he is not letting up. Stretching me with an added digit, finding a rhythm with his mouth and his fingers that is driving me crazy. His fingers curl inside me, pressing into the most sensitive spot inside me with every move of his hand. His tongue is mercilessly licking over my clit, the pressure being too much and not enough at the same time.

And he is right. I’m so wet, I can feel it on my inner thighs. His fingers in my pussy, his grunts and moans, the flick of his tongue, my muffled cries fill the room once again and as I see stars form in front of my eyes, the almost porny background noises keep stoking my arousal. My hips move restlessly, searching for the friction that finally sends me over edge again. I think I almost pass out, screaming incoherent ramblings into my panties, and I’m sure I’m dropping his name somewhere during my sensual high. Good thing that that is damped by fabric in my mouth, because saying his name while I actually came, out loud and clear… that would have made it all too real. Closer than it already was.

I’m shaking from all the overstimulation and orgasms as he finally lets go of me and I slump down on the chair again. He gets up, just standing there, towering over me, looking down at me. I can’t say anything, just breathe to regain some kind of composure again. He leans down a bit, sending another violent shake over me in anticipation, but he only pulls my panties from my mouth and the relief on my jaw makes me sigh.

The sight of him is sinful, godly and perverted at the same time. His muscles are taut, no doubt he's as turned on as I am. His boner is tenting the sweatpants, the outline clear against the fabric even in the dim light. His hood is stained from my arousal, wet patches from the eyes down. His chest is heaving as he takes in big breaths. His hands are formed into fists, the knuckles white like he needs to restrain himself.

It would be an easy thing to reach for his pants, free his dick and I'm almost a 100% sure he would fuck me. But the same thought that seemingly has him just standing there, looking at me, also halts me, his words “We can’t do that” in the back of my head. Without another word he turns around and leaves. The door falls shut and I’m spent and alone again. Only when I get dressed again, I realise that my panties are missing. Again. God damn it, König.

_____________________________________________________________

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Verdammt. Ah, des is ja wieder super gelaufen5. I tell myself sarcastically in my head as I basically run down the hallway. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking! At least not with my brain. I can feel the weight of my boner between my legs with every step, and my balls are aching because they're so fucking blue. It almost physically hurts.

The way she was looking up at me, sitting on the lousy chair, her chest moving up and down, making her titties bounce just the slightest bit, her nipples hard against the fabric of her shirt. Her knees dropped to the side, her legs spread open, her pussy wet and ready for my cock. The wetness on her thighs glistening in the low light. The mental picture is clear in my mind, like if I still had her right in front of me.

I wanna be between her legs again. Her thighs hugging my face, my mouth pressed to her lips, my nose nudging against her clit with every eager lick. Fuck, I can still smell her. The way she tastes, smells, moves when she comes on my tongue is engrained in my brain now. After licking her taste off my fingers, it was hard not to think about her; now it's downright impossible.

I groan and the echo being thrown back at me and reminds me that I’m currently making my way down a very public hallway, sporting the hard-on of the century. Great. I take the next door right, heading to my quarters, when I almost run into someone. I curse under my breath. But it’s only Horangi. He wants to greet me, when he sees my state and just bursts into laughter. “Don’t. Fucking. Say. Anything. If you want to live to see tomorrow.”, I say between clenched teeth. Half-joking because the Korean is probably one of the few people who could actually take me. “My guy, what happened to you?”, he asks with a broad grin on his face. “Don’t fucking ask.”, I bark at him. He’s narrowing his eyes as he inspects my hood. ”What are those stains on your hood?” I freeze for a second, then I pull the hood down. Horangi is one of the few people who know how I look underneath. I groan as I see the wet patches on the fabric, they’re from… her. “Himmel, Herrgott nochmal6. Fucking hell.”, I curse in two languages as I try to push past Horangi. I see him shaking his head in the corner of my eyes as I pass him and I hear him saying something in Korean. I practically sprint to my room, shutting the door behind me with a bang and sliding down to the floor (which is a long way to go for a guy like me).

My hand dives down into my sweatpants, gripping my dick, freeing it, groaning when my fingers close around it and I just imagine that it is her touching me. My other hand lets go off my hood and pulls her panties from my pocket that are soaked in her spit. I wrap them around my base and move them along my length as I start to jerk myself off. I just need the release. Or else I’m gonna go back and take her. The pictures start to form in my mind all on their own. How it’s not my own hand that’s jerking me off, but hers. How she would kneel in front of me, taking me in her mouth, and I’d come all over her face. How I would pick her up and fuck her against the wall, burying myself deep inside her. How she would ride me, with me pulling her down on my dick. My own personal imagination porn only stops when I come all over my hands and her panties, staining my sweatpants and leaving little puddles of cum on my stomach. I sigh and curse again. I do a haphazard job at cleaning myself up, take my clothes off and just drop onto my bed, letting the post orgasm haze take me out.

Jetzt haben wir den Salat: literally 'Now we have the salad', a german way of saying: 'look at the mess we're in'

Herrgott: 'dear god'

Prinzessin: 'princess'

Liebes: 'lovely'

Verdammt. Ah, des is ja wieder super gelaufen.: 'Damn, that went well... NOT.'

Himmel, Herrgott nochmal.: 'for heaven's sake'

#könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig x fmc #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #dual pov

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

The Detour 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor

Summary: You find yourself stranded in a small village.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: So this is an idea I had for a while but I just know I wouldn’t get to do it full length for chapters but I hope it’s fun.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Hmmm,” Vol tugs on his red beard, wiry white hairs springing up, “looks like when you veered, you snapped part of the axel.”

“What does that mean?” You tap your toe impatiently.

“Well, it means even with a new tire, you won't be driving off into the sunset,” he shrugs and crosses his arms, “fix like this could take a week. If it's fixable. And if I can mend it, it won't hold for long. Likely need a full replacement.”

“You're kidding me,” you scoff.

“Look, it's good business for me but I wish I was,” he slaps the white finish of the car, leaving a grease mark that has your fingers itching.

“So… what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He furrows his thick brows.

“I'm supposed to be in the city tomorrow. I have a tour booked of the Cathedral and I'm supposed to go to the museum–”

“Not too sure about that,” he sniffs.

“It's just a car. Scrap it then. I'll get a rental–”

“From?”

“Pardon?”

“A rental from where? Got them in the city but no rentals here.”

“What– well, surely someone around here would sell me something.”

“Don't think anyone has a spare car hanging about,” he chuckles.

“Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all,” he counters, “just saying.”

“So I'm stuck here?”

“Suppose…”

“You suppose?” You throw your hands up.

“There's accommodation around here. A B&B up near Thunder Lane.”

“How far is that?” You check the time on your watch, not that it matters much.

“On foot, a good forty or so. I can drive you up in about ten,” he offers.

“How much would that be?” You touch your shoulder, realising your purse is in the car.

“None,” he blinks, “I don't mind. I live on the other side.”

“Mm, that's very… kind,” you glance around, “I'll grab my things then. I'll take the night To reconfigure….”

You trail off. You’re certain he doesn't care. You look at your car, still mounted on the jack.

“What do you need, miss? Don't want you to get hurt.”

“Purse is in the front seat, my bags are in the trunk,” you explain.

He nods and turns. The large fleece lined flannel over his coveralls makes him seen even bigger. He pulls open the front door and reaches for your purse. He uses the mechanism on the door to pop the trunk before he comes back around.

He hands you your purse and you wipe the stain from the cream leather. He looks in the back, “you need all these?”

“Just that one,” you step closer and point, “oh and this one.”

“Right,” he hauls out the round valise and the vintage rolling suitcase. “You sure that's enough?”

He faces you with half a smirk.

“Thanks,” you ignore his joke, “frankly, I just want to be in one place. Alone.”

“Of course,” he shuts the trunk roughly and the car bounces, “I gotta lock up before we head out but I'll get the truck nice and warmed up and you can wait in there. How's that?” He looks down at your stilettos, “your feet must be killing you.”

“No,” you say defiantly.

“Ah, well, still, don't want you to stain your fancy clothes in here,” he insists, “come on then.”

🌄

As much as you already abhor this place, you must admit the B&B is adequate. Vol steers up through the gates and along the curved driveway that leads to a marble fountain trimmed with finely kept hedges. He stops before the broad stairs as you peer up at the grand double doors. It could be called a countryside palace.

The mechanic's weight shifts the cabin as he hops out and to your surprise, comes to open your door. You give him a look as you step down, your heels catching in the mosaic stonework. You clutch your purse tight and consider the full expanse of the landscaping.

“I'll get your bags,” he opens the backdoor of the cabin.

“Do they not have a bellhop?”

“Here?” He snorts as he brings out your bags, one in each hand.

“Right,” you accept. The village probably doesn't have the population to staff the immense hotel. “Thank you, sir. You've been very helpful.”

“I can bring them in.”

“Not necessary,” you assure him, “thank you again. I'll call tomorrow about the car.”

“Sure,” he accepts as you latch onto the bags.

The valice brings your arm down sharply as you struggle to yank the wheeled bag closer on the stonework. He made them look much lighter than they are.

“Good night, sir.”

You spin and march off, a janky, awkward gait in your heels as the bag bounces behind you. You get to the steps and look at the top. You ignore the idling truck as you take in the logistics of the ascent. It's only five steps. In these shoes, it may as well be triple.

You rest the valice on the rolling bag and huff. You shake out your arms and hike your purse high on your shoulder. You push down the long handle of the suitcase and instead grab the handle on top, hugging the valice to it as you lift it one step ahead of you.

You plant the wheels and pant, swaying in your heels. The second step is no easier. The third has you stopping a bit longer.

You turn and look at the tow truck and scowl. You wave him off with agitation. He revs and rumbles around the fountain, leaving you.

“Need some assistance?” A baritone thunders over you. You whip around to face the same burly blond as before.

“You!” You exclaim.

“Me,” he grins, “you're having a hard time.”

“No,” you insist.

You snatch the valice and hook it on your elbow. You grab the handle of the suitcase and grunt, dragging it up the steps with all your effort. It jars you dangerously on the top step and nearly has you tipping over.

“Hm, I was only going to offer my help.”

“Don't need it. Thanks,” you snip, “why don't you mind your business?”

“This Is my business,” he snickers, “well, my parents’ still have their names on the deed but it'll be mine soon enough.”

You bat your lashes and roll your eyes, “fine,” you shove your bag against his stomach, hard, “I need a suite. Now.”

He laughs even louder as he grabs onto your valise, “of course, your highness,” he backs up and reaches to open a door, “this way.”

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #the detour #drabble #series #au #backwoods au #mcu #marvel #avengers

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 10 months

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close to home | chapter twenty seven

plot: the reader throws herself into work to keep her grief at bay, and helps get everyone ready for their journey north

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,496 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, A/N: thank you for reading!!!

It had been two days since Beth’s death, and every day started out the same. You were okay when you woke up, then you remembered, and you wanted to cry. Then you were busy with the day and were able to get through it. Then, you lay down to sleep and remembered all over again and cried. Then it would repeat itself.

You learned about Rick’s plans on going to Virginia for Beth, and you immediately agreed to it. You wanted to honor your little cousin in the only way you knew how. You wanted her death to mean something. If you got Noah back to his family, his home, then it would.

But the group had things to do before the big move. You needed better transportation, and you needed supplies. So on the last day before you left, you were all busy getting ready.

Two supply groups were formed and would head in opposite directions. You’d travel twenty-five miles, see what you could get, and then come back. You were all due before sunset, and if you weren’t back, the remaining group would come looking.

You were with Michonne, Carol, Rick, and Daryl. Glenn, Maggie, Rosita, Sasha, and Tara would be the second group. Carl, Eugene, Tyreese, and Abraham would stay back at the campsite with Judith and Tora, and would wait. Rick wanted you to stay back, but you couldn’t. Besides, you were feeling better. Physically, at least.

Your group took one of the cars, the other group took the other car, and the campsite group stayed with the truck. It would offer the most protection in case something happened.

You were sitting in the backseat with Michonne and Carol and had been for a while now. The road was mostly clear, and after about fifteen minutes of Rick’s crazy driving, you approached a town.

“I’m thinkin’ we divide into two groups. We need food, water, and gas. We need stuff for Judith, too.” Rick said as he parked the car. “We also need some cars. The van will hold a decent amount of us, but we’ll need two more cars. I don’t think this one is makin’ the trip, and I’d rather not get stuck on the road with it.”

You climbed out of the car, your hand gripping your machete as you spotted a lone walker. You waited a second before approaching it, taking it down quickly. The rest of the group was taking out some supplies the group had scavenged the past few days--which was nearly nothing, though Rosita scored big when she found some empty gas containers.

“Michonne and I will look for food. You three try and get your hands on a car. Meet back here at midday, and we’ll reassess if we want to go back in for more.” Rick said.

You all nodded and made the journey into the town. It mainly seemed deserted, with a few walkers here and there that were quickly taken out. Soon, Michonne and Rick bid their goodbyes, and the three of you were left to scavenge.

Twenty minutes later, you were breathing deeply and covering the sore wound as Carol took the last walker down. It’d only taken a few minutes but it felt like more.

“There’s gotta be keys inside the shop,” Carol said. “You two pick a car, and then we’ll try and figure it out from there. I’m going to try and siphon some gas. Hollar if you need help.”

The three of you split up as you searched the small car dealership. When you’d seen the logo of a common car manufacturer, you felt like it was a sign from God. The lot was pretty full, and most car dealerships had cars with full tanks.

You returned to where most of the SUVs were, Daryl, walking slowly behind you and making sure nothing was around. Your gun was heavy and solid against your thigh, and you drummed your fingers against it a few times as you walked.

Your eyes scanned the few remaining SUVs, and you smiled when you saw the biggest one. It was an old Acadia, and it reminded you of the one your mom used to drive. You walked up to the door, wiping dirt away with your hand and then wiping your hand on your pants.

“This will hold seven of us. We got seventeen, including Judith….” You trailed off, checking to see if the door was unlocked. It was, and you stuck your head into the car. “Seems like it was pretty new.”

Daryl walked to the passenger side door and looked in the glove box and visors. A pair of keys fell out, and you smiled at Daryl. He handed them to you, and you started the car. It took a second, but it started, and you sighed with relief.

“Tank is full, which is a relief. You might want to check the engine. It's been here since the start. Imma look for another seven-seater.”

Daryl nodded, “Shouting distance,”

You rolled your eyes but nodded before leaving. It was quiet, and the dealership seemed mostly untouched--which you were thankful for. You glanced back at Daryl, watching him sort through what was probably a dusty engine. You paused momentarily, watching the muscles in his arm contort as he looked through the machine.

Shaking your head, you looked across the lot to Carol, who was siphoning the gas from a car. You then walked around, looking for another bigger car to hopefully get you all to Virginia. Unfortunately, the rest of the SUVs weren’t worth trying, so you helped Daryl get the car out of the spot and park it at the front of the lot. Carol met up with you with a full container of gas, and after setting it in the trunk, you drove the car off the lot.

“Okay, so we got a car and some gas. We just need food and water. I think we should see if we can get some clothes. I’ve got blood on here that’s so old and stained that nothing gets it out.” You said as you drove.

“There’s a Goodwill; looks like a coffee shop next to it,” Carol said, leaning into the front and pointing.

“We should see if we could get Judith some clothes too. Maybe a car seat, too, if we could. I’m sure Rick would love that,” You said.

After parking, Carol went to the coffee shop while you and Daryl checked out the front of the store. A few walkers dumped into the glass, and you and Daryl worked carefully to kill them. It wasn’t a very big store anyway.

“Smells like shit in here,” You said, looking around the store.

He snorted, “Ain’ like it always smells.”

You nodded in agreement and walked down the aisles of clothes. You started at the pants, grabbing a few pairs the group's women could use and stuffing them into a bag you’d found at the front of the shop. You weren’t sure what everyone’s sizes were, and everyone being nearly starved didn't help. You did your best to fill up some clean shirts, too, even a few sports bras you hoped would be good.

You found a few things for yourself to change into, and after making sure Daryl was across the store, you quickly changed.

A few more minutes of searching later, you approached Daryl. He was grabbing a few plastic water containers in the kitchen area. “Here, I found these for you. Will these fit you?” You asked, showing him the clothes you’d found for him.

“What?”

“You need new clothes. Those ones are disgusting. Go, try them on. I’m going to look for Judith. And don’t argue with me.”

You handed them over to him and went to the baby area without another word. You quickly grabbed a few onesies, shorts, and shirts that would fit her, with room to grow. You grabbed some socks and shoes that looked right. Unfortunately, there was no baby food, but this was something. You even found a car seat, and added it to the growing pile of supplies you made in the middle of the store.

When Daryl met you, he had changed into newer clothes. They were just a pair of dark pants, a shirt he’d already torn the sleeves off, and his vest. But he looked better.

“Did you grab some stuff for all the guys?” You asked.

“Huh?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “We should grab some shirts for the guys. So they could change too.”

“I ain’ doin’ all that,”

You rolled your eyes and walked to the men’s section. It took about ten minutes for you to find stuff that would fit them all--since they were all different sizes. But you had enough shirts for them and wouldn’t even bother trying to guess pants sizes. At least all the women in the group were similar. And you had no idea how to look for men’s clothes.

After adding them to the pile, you walked towards the employee door and slowly pushed through, checking the small break room before entering. There were some dusty tables and two vending machines in the back. You started laughing when you saw them. They were still nearly full.

“Daryl!” You yelled, grabbing your machete.

The door swung open after a few seconds, and he came in with his bow raised but lowered it when he saw your face.

“Food,” You said, “Help me?”

Daryl looked at you, of course, unspoken on his lips. So he nodded and took the arrow out of the crossbow and then used the butt of it to break open the glass.

“Careful,” He said quietly as you reached in, pulling out everything and shoving it into one of your bags.

“Mhm,” You hummed, grabbing candy bars, bags of chips, pop-tarts, and granola bars. It wasn’t the healthiest of foods, but it was more than you had. You grabbed a blueberry pop-tart and ripped it open. It was stale when you took a bite, but you moaned at the taste anyway. “Oh my God,”

Daryl shook his head in amusement as he busted the other vending machine and pulled out all the water bottles.

“Here, eat,” You said, handing him the other pop-tart. He tried to refuse, but you forced it on him. “You gotta take care of yourself, too, Daryl. Hand me one of those sodas.”

“They probably taste like shit,” He said.

You shrugged, taking the soda from him and sitting on one of the tables. A meal of stale pop-tarts and flat soda wasn’t what you had in mind today, but it was like finding a little slice of heaven in the hell you’ve been in.

Once you finished your food and made Daryl drink, you went to grab the bags. The one with the water bottles was too heavy, and you barely lifted it off the ground. “Ugh,” You groaned. “You take this one.”

Daryl laughed quietly and you looked over at him. Hearing him laugh was a rarity and you loved when he did.

“C’mon, Carol’s probably wonderin’ where we at,” He said.

It took you two a good few minutes to load up all your supplies in the trunk, and you were sweating and aching when it was over. The truck was packed, and you tossed the car seat in the back. Before Daryl closed the trunk, you swiped a bag of chips.

“It’s our reward for all the work we did,” You said, opening it up. Before you could even take a chip, Daryl swiped it from you and took some himself. “Asshole,” You said.

He laughed again and handed the bag back to you after taking a few more.

“Bags are mostly air anyway, so you owe me,” You said.

“Let’s go check on Carol,” He said.

You followed him as you ate handfuls at a time. You’d been starving since yesterday, and you couldn’t stop yourself from eating the shitty chips.

The coffee shop was small, and Carol was inside. She’d found a decent amount of supplies in here. She’d found a few jugs of vegetable oil, cornmeal, and grains. An industrial size thing of oats. There were two can openers and some lighters. Nothing that you’d all be able to just open and eat, but it was better than nothing.

“I found you some clothes,” You told Carol, grabbing some of the supplies.

Carol smiled at you, “You’re my new favorite.”

***

By midday, you were waiting in the new car with all your supplies at the meeting point. Michonne and Rick weren’t back yet, but there was still time. You were sitting on top of the front of the car, leaning against the front window. Daryl had gone off into the woods to see if he could do some hunting for a few minutes.

Carol was pacing back and forth on the road.

“They’ll be back. It’s Rick and Michonne.” You said.

Carol nodded, “Yeah, I know. I hope they found water.”

You sat up and squinted in the sunlight. “We’ll figure it out if they didn’t.”

Carol turned back at you. “You told Daryl.”

You knew exactly what she was talking about. “I needed to… needed to tell someone, you know?”

She nodded and crossed her arms. “I understand. I’m glad. He asked about it. It was nice talking to someone about it.” She admitted.

You were about to lean back when you heard a car and watched as a car sped over the hill toward you. You didn’t need to even attempt to worry about who it was--Rick’s driving was a dead giveaway.

The car slowed as they approached, and when Rick put it in park, they both got out. They looked like they had a bit of trouble but were okay.

“How’d it go?” You asked them.

“We found a small apartment building. Probably only ten units. Single floor.” Rick said, “We only cleared a room before heading back. There are probably two dozen or so walkers there. Where’s Daryl?”

“He went to see if he could catch anything. He’ll be back soon. He said he’d be gone for twenty.” Carol said.

“Did you get stuff from the apartment?” You asked.

Michonne nodded, “Yeah, they had a decent amount of food.” You knew exactly what that meant. Whoever it was, they killed themselves early on.

You slide off the front of the car, ignoring the slight ache on your side. “So you wanna clear it?”

“I’d like to. We have the time. How did you guys do? I see you got a car.”

“We found a decent amount. Oh, I got some clean shirts. Michonne, even got some pants.” You said, “Not for you, Rick, sorry.”

“I’ll take a shirt. You won’t see me complaining,”

#daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl dixion x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd #daryl twd #daryl x you

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allsortsofwritings · 4 months

Text

After the sunset - Lee Dutton (Yellowstone)

The fic i promised like last week!! Whoops but here it is. Not proofread so ignore anything that doesn’t make sense. Requests are open

The soft sun peaked through the blinds. Wanting a few more hours of sleep, rolling over when it felt like you hit a wall. Groaning, trying to make more room between you and the wall when you opened your eyes and saw that the wall was your boyfriend. Sound asleep he threw an arm over you, pulling you into him.

“Lee, Lee, get the hell away from me,” muffled in his arms, his grip somehow getting tighter around you. Trying to pry his arms off when Lee finally opened his eyes, groaning. Sleep weighed his eyes, looking into yours, “What’d I do now,” muffled by the pillow.

Burning up as if you were in a sauna. You brushed Lee’s hair out of his face, caressing his cheek while his eyes slowly lowered again, “Nothin baby don’t worry about it.” Lee hummed while you continued to run your fingers through his hair.

Breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s the plan for today cowboy?” Lee sighed heavily before answering you, “ too many things. Got a meeting later with the people who stole my dad’s cattle.” You grimaced at the thought of him going off to meet with people who want him dead. “By the people do you mean Monica’s family.”

“Doesn’t matter who they are, they stole from us and now we have to get them back.” Lee’s groggy voice filled the room. You rolled on top of him, straddling his hips. “Doesn’t matter who or what they took, I just need you back here in one piece.” You leaned down to kiss him. He deepened the kiss, battling for dominance.

Lee broke the kiss, your foreheads touching as your chests heaved, “Be safe, last time you said they shot at you guys. ‘N Lee Dutton if I hear something like that happens I’m done, you’ll never see me again.” You kissed his chest before you laid your head on him.

Feeling a heavy hand caressing the back of your head, “Don’t worry darlin, be here tonight just a little late as usual. I’ll come back crawling to you if that’s all I can do.” He kissed the top of your head, “I’ll come back half dead, always coming back to you.”

Leaning up to kiss him for the last time before your alarms rang. “Don’t make empty promises cowboy.” Getting off of him and heading to the bathroom. “My promises are never empty.”

“God damnit Lee! Stay with me” Kayce shouted as he kicked the horse to go faster. Making their way to the chopper, “Dad, Rob-“ John cut him off by getting Lee off the horse. “Help me.” Throwing one of Lee’s arms over their shoulders, Lee’s shallow breathing, legs dragging as the Dutton’s tried their best to get him into the chopper.

“Find Y/n, tell her before the news.”

Water droplets on the ground as you looked at the empty bed. Knowing you’ll wake up to him accidentally slamming the door and apologizing. Getting in bed, shutting off the lights and making sure the alarms set for tomorrow, the old clock Lee insisted you used instead of a phone.

Phone ringing on the side table. Seeing it’s Kayce calling, probably calling to bitch about what your boyfriend did, hitting decline and powering it off. Closing your eyes and going to sleep.

Harsh bangs on the front door woke you up. Looking at the clock, seeing it had barely been five minutes since you shut your phone off. More bangs, opening the drawer in the side table, pulling out the gun Lee insisted you learned to use in case of these situations. Moving towards one of the windows, peaking out to see it’s Ryan and Rip.

Gun still in your hand as you unlocked the door. The bewildered men shouted at you to put on your jacket and put the gun down. “Can someone just tell me what’s going on!” Rip threw your jacket at you as Ryan put your shoes in front of you. Ryan made his way out and into the truck. You stared at Rip, waiting for him to say something, “No time sweetheart, explain in the truck, now we gotta go.” Rip said. Throwing everything on, Ryan waiting in the truck as Rip closed the front door behind the two of you.

“My god where are we going, you said you’d explain in the truck.” You’re in the back, watching as Ryan and Rip looked at each other. Neither wanting to say anything. 10 minutes is how long you’ve been in the truck and you’re thinking about jumping out instead. Leaving your phone was a mistake, there was a need in you, needing to hear Lee’s voice. Needing to see how he was doing or where he fuck he was.

“Give me a phone, I’m calling Lee and when I get him on the phone he’s gonna have both your asses.” Silence still stood amongst the men. You leaned in to make sure they could see your face. “Rip did you not fucking hear me! I said give me a fucking phone so I can call Lee, might as well call Beth, she’ll get your ass too.” Neither of them so as much flinched at your threats.

Visibly angry you sat back as you realized you were now in town. Speeding the entire way here but Rip’s foot got even heavier, flying through town when you made it to the hospital. Cop cars with their lights on, the personal vehicles of the Dutton family in the front of the parking lot. Ryan turned around to look at you as the truck made a full stop in front. “It’s Lee, meeting went wrong.”

You jumped out of the truck, stumbling as your feet made contact with the pavement. Running in the hospital, the receptionist looked at you with sorrow, reading the scared expression plastered across your face. “I- Lee Dutton where is he.” Fingers tapped on the keyboard in front of her. “ Are you a relative of some sort?” The words tumbled out without a thought, “His wife, I’m his wife.” She looked you in the eyes with a sad smile, “He is currently in surgery on the second floor Mrs. Dutton.” A quick thank you before you made your way to the elevator.

Thoughts raced through your mind as the elevator dinged on the second floor. The Dutton family sitting the waiting room, heads snapped towards the elevator door. Making eye contact with a blood shot eyed Jaime. The tears began falling as you made your over to him. Pulling you into a bone crushing hug, “I’m so sorry Y/n, he’s, he was.”

You could feel your heart drop when Jamie said was. Ringing in your ears as Jaimes mouth continued to move, not hearing a thing. John made his way over to you two. Standing next to Jamie. You cut through the two, heading towards an empty seat next to Beth.

“Can you just tell me what’s going on. Please Beth where’s Lee.” You choked on a sob as Beth’s eyes filled with tears. Taking out a cigarette. You snatched the lighter out of her hand. “God damnit it Beth just tell me!”

“Robert Long shot him over some fucking cattle.” Grabbing the lighter out of your hand before storming out.

You sat in shock, head in your hands as John came over to console you. “He’ll pull through, he’s a tough kid everyone knows it, he won’t leave you like this.”

It was hours before someone came and told you guys anything. Lee was alive, breathing on his own, could be seen but only two at a time.

Everyone looked at you and John, signaling you two were the first ones. Making your way to his room. Room 320, stopping right outside of the door. Too scared to go in and see what had become of the man you love. John put a hand on your shoulder, “You don’t need to see him right now, doc says he’ll be asleep for a few hours anyway, go eat something, rest a little.”

“Thank you for the offer but I don’t think your opinion in what I do matters at the moment.” Opening the door to see a pale faced Lee. Hooked up to machines, seeing his heartbeat somehow calmed yours. You moved towards the bed, taking a seat next to Lee, grabbing his hand in yours. You could feel the lump in your throat start to form again. Tears were slowly making their way down your cheeks all over again. You couldn’t be here.

Letting go of his hand and leaving the room. You were met with Jamie standing right outside the door, waiting for either of you to leave. He moved out of your way, calling after you but not following. Once you reached the first floor, asking to use the hospitals phone to call Ryan and get you the fuck out of there.

You couldn’t move out of the water. The once hot water that burned your skin was now freezing. Goosebumps filled your body. Feeling guilty for leaving Lee. For not being brave enough to face the situation head on. Leaving with your tail tucked after insulting the man whose son was lying in the hospital.

Your phone had been ringing for two hours now. Getting voicemail after voicemail from Beth. Wondering why the fuck you left. John calling just to check up on you as he put it. Jamie wanting you to come back to help deal with everything. You didn’t want to deal with everything.

Drying off, throwing on sweatpants and one of Lee’s hoodies. Checking your phone again, seeing a message from Beth, telling you Lee had finally woken up.

The front door opening, seeing Ryan standing there,”You have such good timing you know.” He chuckled before ushering you out, “Yeah well, credit goes to Beth, it’s like I can feel her anger through text, come on.” Turing to truck on and heading back to the hospital.

Room 320. The bold white letters stared back at you as you tried to go in again. John opened the door, seeing you through the little window. You stood outside in the hallway. Looking at the man you insulted 3 hours ago. “Been asking for you since he woke up. Doc says to not stress him any you know.” You nodded as he left the room. Leaving just you and Lee.

The tip of your nose started to tingle, water filling your eyes again for what seemed the hundredth time today. Except this time you were looking in the eyes of the man you love.

Those big soft brown eyes staring back into yours. Slowly making your way towards him. Carefully sitting next to him, trying to be as close to him as you could without causing any pain. “You’re treatin’ me like I’m gonna break, supposed to be the way ‘round.” He trying his best to put a smile on your face. A tight lipped grin made its way onto your face. You choked on a sob. Lee’s hand wiped the tears that were starting to fall again.

“Told you I’d come back darlin. Would never leave you here, never doing that to you.” Your sobs got louder when he spoke. Inching towards his chest, hearing him wince made you shoot right back up, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t mea-“ Index finger pressed softly against your lips. “Told you to never say sorry to me, something that’ll never need to happen. Now come here.” Lee moved a little to the side as best as he could. Wedging you between him and the bed guard. Laying down right next to him. Your head slightly resting in the side of his neck.

“Who told you,” Lee asked as you moved closer to his side. It took you awhile to answer him. Still not believing what was going on. Words stumbling out, “Beth.”

Lee hummed, “My sister’s always been great at delivering shitty news.” You let out a humorless chuckle, “Should find someone else to deliver news, she’ll probably start delivering punches instead of the news.” You could feel Lee laughing, “Yeah well it’s always her or Rip delivering something bad, ‘least Beth won’t whip out her flip phone to call you.” You laughed. “Rip and that fucking flip phone, don’t know how he gets Beth going when he whips that thing out.” Lee groaned in disgust as you continued to laugh, “Alright fun’s over, you ruined it.”

Lying in silence, listening to the heart monitor fill the air. Racking your brain to figure out something to say. Lee beat you to it, “Ya gonna leave me now?” A small grin was on his face. Made no sense to you, a man who was on the brink of death a few hours ago was grinning.

You hummed before answering him, “If I leave you now I think Beth’ll beat me up.” Lee silently laughed, agreeing with you, before you continued, “But I’m thinking you deserve one more chance.” Lee nodded his head, tipping his head towards the ceiling, “Thank you, scared me for a minute.” You smiled at his reaction.

Lee turned his head towards you, “Reach into my jacket pocket and pull out what’s in there.” Complying, getting out of the bed, to reach for Lee’s jacket on the chair near you. Grabbing the jacket, sitting down on the bed and searching the pockets when you pulled out a small black velvet box. You looked at Lee with confusion. Lee had the biggest shit eating grin on his face. “Open it.” Opening it to find a beautiful diamond ring, tears flooding your eyes as you stared at the ring, “Now I know this is probably the worst way to propose, in a hospital. I promise I planned everything out, was gonna have Gator make your favorite foods, go ride Ray and Loco after then propose in a field just somewhere out there but then you know this happened and what I’m trying to say is.“

Lee ended his long speech, grabbing your hand as you sat there in shock, looking into his eyes, “Y/n L/n, will you marry me?”

#mine #my writing #lee Dutton x reader #lee Dutton imagine #lee Dutton Yellowstone #Yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone imagine #Yellowstone #lee Dutton

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small-sinclair · 11 months

Text

Only Louisiana Knows

@sketchy-rosewitch, here ya go! Let me know if you want a part 2!

A/B/O Sinclair Brothers x child!reader (platonic)

Contains: reader is not a wolf, mentions child abuse (not by brothers), kidnapper is a Hunter, injured reader, gore, blood, murder, not proofread

Lester was the one to notice something was wrong with you while driving towards Ambrose. He could smell it.

Though, out loud, it sounds odd and not good at all, but it’s true. He knew that the man sitting with you wasn’t the best man or the best father. He knew something was wrong when he saw bruises too big for your little body, and there’s not child-like wonder glowing in your eyes when he started talking to you about the swamp creatures. Lester didn’t like the way the man always eyeing your every move and how he glared at you whenever you answered a question. Lester didn’t like it one bit, and he knew his brothers wouldn’t, too.

He pulled up to the station and parked the truck. “I’ll let Bo know yer here.” He hops out of the truck and headed inside. It’ll be fast, he promises himself. He doesn’t want to leave you alone for long.

“Bo?” He called as he entered the front. “Ya here?”

“Yeah!” Bo answered. He was laying under a car with a light on. The radio on the bench was playing 80s rock. “Jus’ a sec!” He pushed himself out front underneath and stands, wiping his hands on his pants, turning the radio off. “Yes, Les?”

“We gotta ourselves a child beater,” Lester answered, stepping in the garage so you and your father don’t hear. In the corner, Vincent closes his sketch book and stands off his stool. He tilted his head a little and nodded Lester to go on. "He has a kid wit'im... a youngling."

Bo stiffened as he crossed his arms. "Did you see anything on the child?"

"Bo, you can smell it."

Bo lifted a brow then looked at Vincent, who shrugged, then back at Lester. "Le’me meet him. I bet I could figure him out." As soon as he finished saying those words, the bell to the door open and closed. The smell of burnt leaves and cedar filled the air, but the sweet scent of cherry and vanilla followed. "I'll be righ' there!" Bo shouted as he tossed the rag to the side. "Vince, head to the basement and listen close if I need ya."

He gets a nod from the other alpha and slips away towards the tunnels underground. He spares a glance before leaving, clicking the door behind him softly.

Lester led the way out as Bo followed, fixing his hat as he walked. Standing by the front door, Bo saw the man and tried to to recoil at the smell. Lester was right: it didn't smell right nor look good. He didn't like how the man kept the child close, and he didn't like how the kid didn't look at anything or tried to talk. What is the kid? Four or something? When he was that age, you could never shut him up! Still, Bo gave a nod at man along with a welcoming grin. If he could figure the man out and get him far away from the kid, that'll be the best for both him and the town. He doesn't want a child beater part of his mother's dream, her waxed pack.

"Apologies for the wait," Bo said. "What can I do for ya?"

"Car blew a flat," the man said. Shit, even the way he talks and the smell of his breath made Bo want to throw-up. "Me and my kid need to get going soon."

"Of course," Bo nodded. "Les? Get the keys to the tow and bring the car. I can see what I can do." He turned to the side and opened his arm. "I have some tires back here if ya wanna see 'em? Easier for you to pick, ya know?"

Lester takes the keys off the hook and looks back at Bo with a concerned look. Bo waved him off shyly, giving him the reassurance that everything will be okay. Bo wasn't going to do anything to the kid, to you.

You stood still as you hugged your stuffed gray wolf closer to your chest. The mechanic held out his hand towards your father and said, "Name's Bo."

"Harry," he shook Bo's hand. "Look, I don't mean to come off as a bother but--"

"No bother at all, sir," Bo flashed an award-winning smile. "Was just fixin' t'breaklines on a car." Then he turned his attention towards you. "Does jounir wanna sucker? I got som' lollies."

He seemed to be asking you and not your father, but you know better than to talk. As much as you want to say yes, you saw the glare form your father and shook your head. You didn't want to be more in trouble than you have to be.

"Okay, kiddo," Bo said, turning on his heels. "The kid c'n stay up here. Shop's too messy for a kid to be walkin' around." Then Bo turned to you and nodded at a chair. Gladly, you took your seat. After climbing up, sat your stuffed wolf, named Wolfie, next to you. Bo smiled slightly then turned back to your father. "Come 'is way."

As Bo and your father left, your legs dangled over the chair, so you started kicking in the air and hugged Wolfie.

He's not really your father, Harry. You know he's not because you were taken from your real parents as payment for something. But he turned around and burned them alive for drinking out of people's necks. You don't do that, but Harry doesn't believe that. He's been referred to as a "hunter", but he doesn't hunt deer or animals... well, he does hunt wolves and people that drink from necks.

It's confusing and hard to follow what he does, so you don't ask. In fact, you don't talk unless he tells you to. Maybe he's scared you'll tell people about the cross-bow in the trunk of his car or about the packets of wolf's bane hidden under the seat? Who's to say, really.

You made Wolfie dance over your knees when you heard your father yelling and something falling to the ground. You hugged Wolfie close to your chest as you slowly slipped off the chair and looked into the doorway. You saw harry with a wrench trying to hurt Bo while Bo...

Bo didn't look the same.

His shirt was ripped as fur stuck out. His blue eyes were brighter and burned in flames of anger. His face was getting longer and larger like his hands and fingers. You watched as his nails grew into claws like a bear as wolf ears poked out of his hair. He pushed Harry back with a long, black and brown tail. You heard his clothing tear and rip until there was nothing left. Bo wasn't a human. He stood tall and proud as a wolf... a werewolf.

You and your stuffie turned, and you bolted out the door as you heard his howl and an echo of a growl, but you didn't go far. You forgot to tie your shoes and tripped on the laces. You fell on face forward and tried to scramble to get away, but you felt a shadow creep over you. Looking up, you saw another werewolf with black thick fur, but it was miss half its face and ear. It looked down at you then leapt over your trembling body through the glass door window. You let out a scream and covered your head.

It's just a dream It's just a bad dream!

Then you heard Harry's cry of agony and death. You heard snarls and growls ripping through Harry’s skin. Then his gun fired, hitting one of them.

Before you knew it, you were scooped up by a large claw and carried away to the other side of the road. The one with one eye and ear placed you down and stood on all fours protectively, it’s fur standing.

Barking loudly, Vincent snarled as it glared forward. How fucking dare he come to his home, to his town, and threaten his family with a gun! It dared to harm you? Hurt you just for being there!? No. Not on his watch. He growled as Harry limped out of the station. He glared at you and the wolf and raised his gun—

“No!” You pushed through the other wolf and opened your arms. “Stop—!”

Stupid child.

****************

Lester bright the broken car home, but he was speeding the whole way through. He heard the gun shot clear as day and felt his heart tear apart. He pressed on the gas and drove until he couldn’t no more. He parked the car and leapt out of the driver’s seat. The transformation is normal painful, but he found through the pain and was running the rest of the way. He didn’t stop until he saw the child laying behind Vincent as Bo attacked the hunter from behind.

Lester could smell blood as soon as he raced down the gravel road. He watched as Vincent lunged at the man’s chest while Bo aimed for his throat. He heard the cracking of bones and skin ripping, but he didn’t see you move. He grit his teeth as he narrowed in on the hunter and jumped high enough to land on top of his arm.

You heard his body being torn apart violent until there was nothing left of him. You curled up into a ball and clinched Wolfie tighter as you started crying in the fur, flinching at their victory howls over the killed hunter, over Harry.

Lester pushed the body away and rushed towards the curled up child. His pants were ripped as changed back to normal. “Bo! First-aid, now!” He shouted as he slid on his knees next to you. “Kid? Kiddo!?” He glanced over his shoulder then back at you. Letting out a frustrated yell, he picked you up and ran into the station.

***********

The first thing you felt when you woke up was something soft and warm like fur. Looking up, you found the full-face wolf under you, sleeping soundly with its tail wrapped around you protectively. Panic surged through your body as you pushed yourself up for the wolf, waking it up in the process.

You fell on your back as burning pain from your leg grew like weeds in the summer. It shot up through your little body as you scrambled away from it. You put your arms around your head as you curled into a ball.

“Don’t hurt me! Please!” Fat tears fell from your eyes as you cried out, “Mama! Mama! Papa!” You knew your parents weren’t there anymore. Harry wasn’t there anymore. You were alone. Truly and forever alone. “Wolfe! Where’s-where’s Wolfie!?” Then you peeled through your hands and saw the half-faced wolf inching closer to you. “Papa! Papa, help!”

Bo’s ears lowered as a high-pitched whine escaped. He doesn’t whine. He never does. But hearing you call out for someone that’s gone… what did that hunter do to you? He didn’t like this one bit, but he knew what had to be done. You are a child, a kid… his kid. Vincent’s kid. Lester’s kid. Their child.

You heard nails tapping on the ground and pattering of paws coming closer to you. Then your arm was nudged by a nose. A dog's nose. you opened your eyes and met the brightest blue eyes and blackest fur you've ever seen. The werewolf lowered himself down onto his stomach and whimpered softly as he nudged your arm again. He digs his nose under your arm until your arm was resting on his neck. His blue eyes were hurt and sorry as if he felt your pain.

From behind, the other joined as well. The wolf lowered himself on the floor next to you and curled around you like like a dragon protecting its hoard, its tail covering you like a blanket. It whimpered like the other did as it came closer to you. It’s burning blue and green eye focused on you and your fears. How Vincent wished to take away your pain.

Lester’s feet hurried over the wooden steps but slowed when he saw his brothers and you together. He softened as he came towards the little pile, but slowed when Bo glared at him as if he did something wrong. So he knelt besides Vincent and offered a friendly smile. “Heya, sweetness,” his voice was so light and careful. “How ya feelin’?”

All he got from you was a chocked out sob and a cry.

“Yeah, I reckon much,” he sighed sadly. “But, hey, listen,” he made sure to move so you’re right in eye sight of him. “I patched up your stuffy an’ washed it good.”

“Wolfie?” You murmured hopefully.

He nods. “Yes. Wolfie is okay. Jus’ hang dryin’.” He looked between his brothers and back at you. “Do ya wanna sleep somewhere more comfortable? Made a bed for ya.”

“Wolfie?”

“Yes, little bit,” he chuckles. “Wolfie will be there.”

Bo nudged his head against yours as if he’s reassuring you. What else can you do? Nodding, you allowed Lester to pick you up. He was gentle enough so your leg doesn’t start bleeding.

Bo and Vincent followed Lester but stopped at the bottom of the steps. Mama never liked it when they went upstairs with dirty paws. Hold habits die hard with the Sinclairs. Vincent laid on his paws and watched as his little brother and you disappeared. Tonight was on him, and he’ll never forget it.

As the night went on, Lester didn’t leave your side. He slept at the old writing desk in the broken chair he knew throw out. Vincent stayed at the bottom of the steps and slowly came back to human with ripped clothing and torn shoes, maskless. The two stayed at the house with you while Bo took care of Harry.

He took his body and filled his ripped stomach with stones until it sank in the swamp with the gators. Before he did that, he took his hunter’s ring and notebook in his back pocket. The little black box was filled with names and addresses of other hunters, and that made Bo smile wide. He stood over the torn body and took a few photos to send to the hunter cove as a warning to stay away from Ambrose, but he hoped they came. He wanted blood for what he did to that child. He wanted their hearts in his jaw. Bo wanted to make them fear him—

Then he thought of you and how you curled closed to him. He thought about how small you were and how light and shy your eyes are. Bo sighs to himself and shakes his head. He’ll be a father a true father to you, but he’ll be damned if anyone came close to you. He sunk the body into the water and rowed back to shore. He stepped out and dragged the boat on land. He knelt down and washed the blood off his hands in the blessed swamp waters.

No one will find him. It’ll be between him, the swamp, and the other spirits that haunt these waters.

Only Louisiana and her ruby fields will ever know.

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starfxkr · 3 months

Note

im a glasses wesring girlie and i refuse to wear my glasses unless i HAVE to see something w my own eyes ik the boys would be annoyed dragging my blind ass around

rafe is gonna force you full stop i fear he has a pair of your glasses in the truck for when you “forget” because yes he likes having you cling to his arm but not if you’re tripping over your feet like a dumbass.

jj probably trips you on purpose to get you to wear em 😭 he’s like “damn baby, if only you coulda seen that coming.” like it’s the funniest joke on the planet!!! and it doesn’t help that he’s got you runnin around during all his schemes, throwing you over fences and shit so you learn you gotta wear em for your own safety.

john b gently encourages you to put them on the first few times before he gets real stern about it and refuses to take you with him anywhere until you listen to him and at first you’re life fine idc 🙄 but them you start to miss him and he’s real smug when he sees you start to remember to put em on.

pope actually gets soooo irked like sjsnsksjs JUST PUT EM ON. and every time you trip or run into something you’re gettin a “i told you so.” because life would be so much easier if you just wore them…

#✨.txt #rafe cameron prompt #jj maybank prompt #john b prompt #pope heyward prompt

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harbingerscry · 4 months

Text

Another?

My Graves brain rot is festering. That's it. That's the message.

This contains NSFW content.

It is rare you get to have a break or some quality alone time. Being a parent to two rowdy ten-year-olds and an NP at a local doctor's office keeps you busy like no other, especially since your husband is often busy with his own job. So imagine your unbridled surprise when you get home one Friday afternoon and the house is eerily quiet. You even check your watch to make sure you didn't accidentally leave work early or something (which was impossible). You're almost tempted to call Phillip but you already know he's home by his black truck parked in the driveway. "Honey?" You finally call out into the silence as you take your shoes off in the entryway. "Yep?" Phillip's voice echoed from the dining room. "Where are Abigail and James?" You begin your quiet march to the dining room, but not getting a response makes your pace quicken.

One look at the dining room made any words waiting on your tongue melt back into your throat. Your favorite flowers were sitting in the centerpiece vase that had been empty for weeks, plates were made and set out, and the aroma was enough to make your mouth water after a day of limited snacking between appointments and a lunch spent researching. Standing right beside it all was your grinning husband dressed casually in a button-up and jeans, hands confidently resting on his hips. "Welcome home baby, and to answer your question they're at my folks." You were stunned, not because this was an uncommon occurrence but because it was almost always planned ahead of time. The look on your face slowly gives way to unrestrained affection, matching Phillip's as you walk forward and gently wrap your arms around his waist. "This is one of the best welcome homes I've had in a while." You place a gentle kiss on his lips but it's his hands that keep you there as he holds your face in his hands, guiding and deepening the kiss at the pace he wants. You do eventually have to give his hip a gentle tap and pull away, if you continue like this there won't be any food left at all. "Let me go put my bag and papers away baby…" You swear you've never seen a grown man pout faster, it made you laugh as you wrangled yourself free from his grabbing hands and made your way to the bedroom to put stuff away.

"Phillip…I love you but this is suspicious." He had been incessant about showing you a gift he had apparently brought home earlier today while everyone was gone. You had an idea of what it could be, especially since you noticed a brand-new swimsuit laid on your dresser. All he could do was roll his eyes from behind you, his hand holding your arm as he herded you to the back patio. "I love you too sweetheart, now hush." He let go of you to slide open the back door, you could hear him scuffling about but it took about a minute before he cleared his throat. "Alright, open your eyes." You had to blink a few times to get your eyes fully focused but the sight was just as romantic as the dining room. The patio was lit up by the string lights you loved and flower petals covered the ground. You stepped out to get a good look at everything and it was then that you spotted the star of the show. "You did not get a hot tub." "I sure did sweet cheeks." Oh God, you were going to have a hell of a time keeping your kids away from it. Before you could protest Phillip was grabbing you and picking you up by the waist, throwing you over his shoulder and causing an undignified squeak to escape your lips. "Phillip!" He was already using the hand not holding your legs down to tug at your pants and underwear. "Gotta get you undressed if we wanna hop in."

You couldn't deny how much you were loving the warm water and jets. As soon as he helped you in it was like your muscles immediately released their tension from weeks of stress. You couldn't help but sink further into the warm water, leaving only your shoulders exposed to the cool night air as you watched your husband undress with practiced ease. He didn't even bother to hide the smirk on his lips when your eyes immediately trailed his toned body, the smirk even seemed to grow as your eyes noticed his half-hard cock. All too happy to stroke his ego further, you licked your lips in barely disguised hunger before a faux pout overtook your features. "I'm awfully lonely in here." Phillip chuckled as he finally climbed into the hot tub, seating himself across from you intentionally. "Guess I could remedy that." You knew this game, you were going to have to close the gap between you two if you wanted more. Lucky for him, you were a sweet partner, always eager to please. It wasn't a moment after he sat down that you were climbing onto his lap, pressing your warm, wet chest against his while your hands instinctually found themselves softly massaging the nape of his neck. The man instantly let out a groan of approval as he squeezed at your hips in return. "So good for me sweet pea." You pressed your lips to his cheek with a hum. That wasn't nearly enough for him though. His hand was quick to hold the back of your neck as he pressed his lips to yours in a hungry kiss, lips and tongue working in tandem to open your mouth with practiced ease. It felt like heaven when he took control like this, it was addicting in ways you weren't sure you could ever describe. He always had control, you both knew that, but in moments like this, it felt like he was pulling the submission from you slowly instead of demanding it with an iron grip. You loved both ways, but something about this seemed even more intoxicating at the moment.

Surprisingly it wasn't you who pulled away first, but Phillip. His eyes were full of hunger, but there was something in them, the fragment of a question. "Everything okay baby?" Your hands moved up to cup his jaw, thumbs tracing the expanse of his cheeks. "Everything's fine darlin', just gotta question." "What is it?" Your forehead leaned forward to rest against his in a soft display of affection before leaning back so he could answer. "Can we have another?" You knew what he was asking, but just to be sure. "Another what baby?" "Another baby." The hunger never left his eyes as he looked into your own, but it was now twinged with anxiety you rarely saw in him. It was a sudden question, however, you knew it would have come eventually. Your own eyes softened as you gave him a reassuring smile. "If you want that, I think we can work something out." Those must have been magic words because he was on you in a second, pressing kisses to the column of your throat all the way to your lips. It was almost like you'd ripped away all his inhibitions with that one sentence. He made it his mission to fuck every drop of his cum inside you that entire weekend. By the end of it, you were in such a pitiful state Philip had to go get the kids by himself. The first thing they asked was where you were and all Phillip could do was try to hide his shit-eating grin as he told them you were sick and getting some well-deserved rest in bed. Also, that brand-new hot tub needs to be thoroughly cleaned.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #phillip graves #graves mw2 #phillip graves x reader #x female reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader

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