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toomuchracket · 22 days

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birthday sleepover (office nerd!matty x reader smut)

final day of matty35!! happy birthday to my favourite boy. have a fic about watching star wars and shagging afterwards to celebrate!! enjoy <3

“why did we need to rewatch the ending of return of the jedi on dvd? i thought i was doing a good thing cueing them all up on demand for you coming over.”

“no, you were, darling, i appreciate it so much, but i really need to show you this bonus feature,” matty kisses your head, before abandoning you completely to stand next to the tv and gesture to the force ghosts appearing to luke skywalker onscreen. “look - different anakin.”

you squint. “what? how?”

“they retconned the digital edition for continuity - added the guy from the prequels to the dvd box set release in 2004,” your boyfriend explains, eyes lighting up in that adorable way they do when he’s passionate about something; naturally, it’s how he looks at you, most of the time. “that’s the original guy, there. same guy who played unmasked vader in the him and luke reconciliation scene, you know. isn’t that weird?”

“yeah.” you’re not lying.

matty moves back to sit next to you on the bed, tugging you onto his lap and gently holding your face. he kisses you, soft and slow and long, and you can feel his affection for you in it. “thank you for marathoning the original trilogy with me, darling. best birthday i’ve had in a long time.”

you pout. “not best ever?”

“that would be the tour of st. james park when i was ten,” he grins. “but this is a close second.”

“i’ll take it,” you kiss his nose. “wait… so if i was to take you on a tour of st. james park…”

“stop it right now, i might cum.”

“oh, for god’s sake,” you facepalm, trying your best not to grin while matty cracks up beside you. “let’s 86 that idea, then.”

“yeah. and we can do that number take away 17 together instead.”

“what… oh,” you smirk at your giggling boyfriend. “then you really will cum.”

“so will you,” matty leans in to kiss your neck. “you know how much i love it when you sit on my face.”

“fuck,” you can't help moaning at the thought of his tongue slicing through you, flicking against your clit with reckless abandon as you writhe on that pretty face of his; the way it's currently soothing the bite he just left on your neck isn't helping, either. “is it bedtime yet?”

matty presses kisses up across your neck to your lips - when they meet yours, you slip your tongue into his mouth, and the whine he lets out completely liquifies your insides and sends them straight into your underwear. “yeah… wait, babe,” he pants against your lips. “we haven’t let maggie outside tonight yet.”

“oh, right,” you look around the room, slightly groggy, for the puppy you were convinced was asleep on her bed by the radiator. “she’s not in here?”

“think she left halfway through the empire strikes back. reckon she was bored,” he looks at you pointedly, smile threatening to break out. “takes after her mother in that regard.”

“i wasn’t bored!”

your boyfriend kisses your nose. “sweetheart, i saw your eyes glazing over like five separate times,” he kisses all over your face, dragging a giggle from your lips with each press of his own. “but you stayed awake through all of them, and you didn’t complain, and i think you deserve head as a thank you.”

“you know, baby, you don’t actually need an excuse to eat me out.”

“yeah, i do,” matty blushes, hiding his face in your neck. “because i’d just have my head between your legs all the time if i didn’t.”

you laugh, holding the back of his head and cuddling him. “well, the sooner you take the dog out, the sooner you can come back and do that to me.”

the speed with which matty practically shoves you off his lap and runs out of the bedroom is comical. he laughs when you smack his ass, turning back to blow you a kiss before running towards the living room, shouting for maggie. you roll out of bed, darting over to softly close the door behind him then making a beeline for your wardrobe.

excitement - and slight nerves, you must admit - building in your stomach, you reach behind a stack of band tees on the wardrobe shelf, standing on tiptoe to grab the paper bag you stashed there a week ago. moving quickly, acutely aware that you have limited time before matty returns, you pull the lingerie from the bag, barely even looking at it before you’re yanking your (well, matty’s) t-shirt off and replacing it with the fancy bra. only once you’re fully dressed in the new underwear do you admire it, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror and examining yourself. adjusting the chains holding your tits up, and smoothing any creases from the long skirt, you turn, looking at your outfit from different angles, giggling deliriously.

you look hot. extremely hot. matty’s going to fucking lose it.

and he’s going to be back any second - you can hear him padding along the hallway, humming the imperial march to himself. chucking your discarded clothes onto the chair at your vanity, you all but launch yourself back onto the bed, and settle into the first sexy-ish pose that comes to mind: lying on your side, facing the door, elbow propping up your head and top leg slightly bent.

a brief wave of panic washes over you when the realisation of what you’re doing sinks in, but you don’t have time to psych yourself out of it before matty’s knocking softly on the door. “darling?” he sounds concerned. “you alright? can i come in?”

you take a deep breath. now or never, you suppose. “yeah. come in, angel.”

“got worried when i saw the door was- oh my god,” matty’s breath catches when he opens the door and sets eyes on you for the first time. he stands there quite gormlessly for about a minute, mouth agape and pretty eyes blinking constantly, as if to make sure you’re actually lying on the bed in princess leia cosplay and he isn’t dreaming. his eyeline shifts quite constantly, too, flitting from your smiling (smirking) face to your legs to your chest and back again. yours shifts down over his bare chest to his boxers, already beginning to tent, much to your delight.

mission accomplished.

twirling your hair around your index finger, you smile at your boyfriend. “happy birthday, baby,” biting your lip, you beckon him over with the same finger; he stumbles forwards, entranced, sinking to his knees at the side of the bed. you run your thumb over his lips, and matty whines quietly, eliciting a satisfied hum of your own. “do you like my new outfit?”

he nods so frantically you fear for his neck. still, you want to hear him. “words, sweet boy. want you to tell me what you think about it.”

“okay,” matty croaks out, eyes glued to your tits. “you- you look fucking incredible. um, just, like, so sexy. m’so fucking turned on. never been so hard in my fucking life. seriously.”

he isn’t kidding; you glance down at his clothed dick, visibly straining against the fabric, and you can feel your ego inflating to match. “yeah?” you slide your hand into his hair. “what do you want to do about it?”

“wanna fuck you,” he whimpers, looking doe-eyed at you. “but i wanna eat you out first. can i? please, darling?”

he’s so fucking eager. you’re obsessed with him.

nodding, you move so you’re sitting on the edge of the bed in front of matty, flicking the front of the skirt out of the way; his pupils dilate even more when he sees you’re bare underneath, and you giggle. “go on then, gorgeous.”

matty’s barely gasped out a “thank you” before you’re being tugged towards his face and it’s buried between your thighs. really, there’s no other word for it - if you could think anything coherent amidst the pleasure searing through you with every movement of your boyfriend’s tongue, you’d genuinely worry about whether he can breathe or not, so close is he to your core. but how can you be expected to think when you feel so fucking good?

of course, matty being matty, he’s slightly graceless with his tongue in his overexcitement, but that’s easily remedied - you root your fingers between those curls you love so much, using them as leverage to grind yourself against him and, in the process, guide him to do what you need him to. he groans what you assume, knowing him, is a “thank you” into your cunt, and the vibrations of his voice add an extra layer to the stimulation already turning you into a wanton, whining mess of a woman. “fuck, matty, such a good boy for me,” you pant, stomach contracting with every lick. humming happily, he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on the bud and making you wail. “yes, yes, just like that… fuck, you’re so good, so fucking good to me. keep going, angel, make me feel good.”

just like you knew it would, the praise spurs your boyfriend on, more than you would’ve thought humanly possible had you not spent copious amounts of time with his mouth on you just like this. after he’s had his fill of making out with your clit - for now, at least - matty turns his attention to your hole itself, licking into it like melting ice cream, driving the muscle into you to the hilt, over and over and over. that in itself is enough to make your legs convulse, but then he adds his thumb to your clit; some form of half-scream half-sob thing drags itself up your throat and past your lips as matty draws every pattern he knows you love onto the bundle of nerves, and your thighs involuntarily clench around his head, keeping him flush against you.

as if he would ever leave you hanging.

some part of your pleasure-numb brain urges you to apologise, tells you that crushing his head like that is surely painful, but it’s quickly disproven by your boyfriend whimpering into your core, pretty little masochist that he is. he looks up at you, beautiful eyes rolling back further into his head with every moan you make, responding with whines and groans of his own. there are a lot of things to like and love about matty, and his focused desire to always make you feel good is one of them - he gets off on this, making you feel nothing less than euphoric, and there’s no way in hell he’s stopping doing what he’s doing until you cum.

and when he rapidly flicks his tongue on your clit, side to side, curls flying everywhere from the force with which he’s shaking his head, you do. the building ball of pleasure in your stomach shatters, careening into your veins and nerves and brain and voicebox, and it’s all you can do to hold him against your cunt until the aftershocks subside.

matty giggles breathily, tenderly rubbing your thighs as you flop back onto the bed and catch your breath. when you’ve stopped shaking quite so much, you sit up on your elbows to look at him. “now where on earth did you learn that last move?”

he shrugs, cheeks rosy from use and damp with you. sweet as caramel and completely earnest, he replies. “just wondered if it would work.”

“jesus christ,” you giggle, shaking your head. “you're perfect, you know that? now,” you beckon him again. “get up here, birthday boy.”

matty doesn't waste any time; he's lying beside you before you've even finished talking, giddy smile intact. you make the same face in return, climbing onto his lap and pressing your lips to his, while his hands find home on your waist. the taste of yourself on him is exhilarating - you moan into matty when it hits you, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and fluster you even further.

it's such a good kiss that it physically pains you to pull away. but the sight of matty, all messy hair and big adoring eyes, makes up for it. smiling, you stroke his cheek with your thumb. “so, birthday boy, what do you want to do next?”

“hmm,” matty's brow furrows adorably, hands tracing the bare skin of your torso as he thinks. after a moment, he looks up at you shyly. “i’d like you to ride me, please.”

before you can open your mouth to agree, he bursts into speech again. “but only if you want to! we can do something else if you’re not in the mood for that. god, i’d take anything at all. but, also, nothing. i don’t mind,” he takes a breath, smiling lovingly at you and stroking your hair. “to be honest, i’d settle just for looking at you, darling. my beautiful girl”.

your cheeks burn, your heart flutters, and all you can do is kiss your boyfriend again. it's sweeter than the last kiss, but it quickly deepens into something desperate - you lift your hips and tug gently at matty's boxers, and he lifts his own hips to let you slide them off. you giggle against his lips as he holds you at a funny angle so he can kick the underwear off, pulling back slightly to talk. “can i fuck you now, sweetheart?”

matty smiles. “you can do anything you want.”

“alright,” you grin at the way he whimpers when you take hold of his dick, eyes fluttering closed when you pump it; you softly touch his face as if to stir him. “eyes open, sweetheart. want you to watch me.”

“okay. sorry,” he obliges, eyes opening and widening as you sink down onto him slowly, hands braced on his hard chest. “jesus christ.”

“yeah,” you breathe, jaw dropping as you take him fully. after a second, you begin to grind your hips, riding him slowly to adjust to how big he is. “always feel so fucking good inside me, baby. how is it for you?”

“perfect,” he's fucked already, eyes heavy and jaw slackening, a sheen of sweat covering his chest tattoo. you speed up your movements, and matty groans, gaze fixated on your tits. “can i touch you, please?”

“of course, angel.”

“thank you.” just as you predicted, your boyfriend's hands immediately go to your chest, palming and squeezing as best he can through the bra. feeling generous - it is his birthday, after all - you reach backwards and undo the garment, chucking it somewhere in your bedroom. matty smiles deliriously, and when he lightly pinches your nipples, you can't help the way your hips speed up or the moan that escapes your lips.

clearly, he isn't the only masochist in the room.

your thighs are beginning to burn from the effort, but you ignore it. matty's enjoying this, the way you're fucking him, as evidenced by the whines of your name and groans and whimpers that fall from his lips, punctuated by the gorgeous sound of your skin slapping against his. and you're enjoying it, too - he hits a delicious spot inside you every time your bodies meet, and given your previous orgasm you don't think it'll take long for you to get off again.

he also seems to be getting close, hips sporadically jerking up into you. it feels good, actually, so good that you decide it might be time to relinquish control for a bit. you smile sweetly. “do you want to do the work for a bit, angel, wanna fuck me?”

“can i?”

fuck, you have the most adorable boyfriend in history. you nod. “i'd really like that.”

“alright,” matty shuffles beneath you, sitting up more against the pillows and moving your arms to rest on his shoulders. he kisses you, so deeply and passionately that your head spins. “can i make you cum, please, darling?”

“yeah.”

he smiles, hands moving to hold your hips. “whatever my girl wants.”

no sooner than the words have left his mouth, matty fucks up into you as fast as he can. you've no idea how he can even move at such a brutal pace, but you're not about to complain; you're not about to do anything, actually, except cling onto him and moan into his neck, your second orgasm of the night creeping closer and closer with every thrust of your boyfriend's hips. urging it on even faster, you slip a hand down to your still-sensitive clit, matching pace with matty and pulling the pleasure out from your very bones. you throw your head back, whimpering praise and pleas for him to get you off; matty watches, mesmerised. “fuck, you're beautiful,” he groans, still fucking you with reckless abandon. “cum for me, please, please. wanna watch you, wanna make you feel good. need it, darling, need you to cum.”

his pleading is what does it for you; with a wail, you bury your head in the crook of matty's neck, whimpering into him as you cum for the second time in under an hour. he brings a hand to the back of your head, tenderly holding you close as his hips stutter to a stop, murmuring more pleas into your ear. “fuck, fuck, please let me cum, can't - shit, darling - can't hold it any longer.”

“do it,” you speak into his skin. “cum, baby, fill me up.”

matty whines, thrusting up into you a final time. he wraps his arms around you as he cums, kissing your shoulder as he recovers. “thank you, sweet girl. so good to me.”

“so good for me,” you lean forward to kiss your boyfriend, both of you unbothered by the cum leaking out of you and onto his stomach when he slips out of you. “always exactly what i need.”

matty smiles. he holds your face so carefully, caressing your cheeks when you pull apart. “i've changed my mind.”

“about what?” you frown, confused.

“about what my best birthday was,” matty giggles, still panting for breath. “it's this one. hands-down. fuck the football.”

you laugh. “can i get that in writing?”

“after today? you can get anything you want,” he laughs, slightly manic, shaking his head in disbelief. “i can't believe you bought and wore that outfit for me, darling. sexiest fucking thing i've ever seen, christ.”

“i'm glad you liked it. i had a lot of fun,” you kiss his nose. “happy birthday, baby. can i clean you up?”

“in a minute, my girl,” matty wraps his arms around your thighs and tugs you until your core hovers over his face, currently set into the biggest smirk you've ever seen. “my turn first.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #matty35 #office nerd au #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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mrsevans90 · 30 days

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Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 18

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Warnings: FLUFFY LOVE!!! MAJOR SMUT, Sex outdoors, public sex, fingering, squirting, P in V intercourse, innuendos, language, romantic love making.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 17

As usual, I wake up well before any alarm I’ve set has the opportunity to start ringing but today I lay in bed. I’m keyed up, feeling similar to how I did in the army before a big mission. I hate that her side of the bed is empty, but Emma’s mother insisted that we sleep separately the night before our wedding. All of the women were at the hotel together, so I couldn’t even sneak in as she was sharing a room with her best friend.

Our wedding. It’s finally here.

Emma didn’t want to wait too long, and between Nana and Diana, the wedding planning became a full event that those two spent every waking hour on. Emma had input and veto rights, but with her busy job she couldn’t devote a ton of time to small details so she let my grandmother and her mother do the heavy lifting.

“All that matters at the end of the day is that I become Mrs. Austin Syverson. Everything else is just details. I’ll definitely have to reign them in at some point though.” Emma told me the next day in bed in Jamaica after we got engaged. We were discussing what she wanted and she said she was happy to have Nana and Diana help plan. She just wanted something classic and outdoors. She of course wanted to choose her dress and she wanted the dogs to be involved somehow. We laid there that night in bed talking about our future and Emma’s smile was just radiant. I lie in bed knowing I won’t get back to sleep before my mind jumps to my second favorite memory of the Jamaica trip, the first being her accepting my proposal.

**Flashback**

The morning after our engagement, I wake up and see Emma still naked and wrapped in the luxurious sheets. Her hair a mess and her lips slightly parted as she sleeps soundly. Her left hand draped delicately over her sheet covered breast catches the light peeking behind the curtains and illuminates the diamonds on her ring. I smile to myself before tossing on some boxers and making myself a cup of coffee from the coffee maker that they provided in the suite. I quietly kiss Emma’s ring, then her forehead before making my way to the balcony to drink my coffee. I sit outside for a while enjoying the view and replaying Emma’s reaction to my proposal in my head when I hear the French doors to the balcony crack open. I turn to see Emma wrapped in nothing but the white bed sheet, her hair still curled from last night but now slightly mussed from sleep as she squints into the brightness of the sun. She gives me the sexiest, sleepy smile and walks further on the balcony closing the doors behind her. Instead of sitting on one of the many chairs available, Emma makes her way directly to my lap and climbs up.

“Morning, Sugar. Sleep good?”

“Mmm.. very good. How about you?��

“I always sleep best with your naked body wrapped up against me, Darlin’.”

She leans in and presses a gentle kiss against my lips.

“We’re getting married, Sy.”

“We sure are, Sugar. You excited?”

“The most excited. I can’t wait to be your wife.” She smiles and I feel the blood rush to my cock.

“Mm! I like the sound of that. My little wife.” I smirk at her and waggle my eyebrows.

“There’s something wrong though.”

“What’s that, Darlin?”

“We haven’t completed our mission.” She whispers sultrily and drops the sheet from under her arms to expose her perfect breasts which immediately causes me to groan and reach for them.

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we? As mission leader and your captain, we need to rectify this problem immediately.” I grunt and thrust my erection against her still covered core before grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her in for a passionate kiss.

“Now, you gotta stay quiet unless you want us to get caught, ya understand?” I grunt in her ear and she nods.

“Words.”

“Yes, Captain. I understand.” She breathes and I rip the sheet as tactically as I can from her, exposing her naked body to the outdoors. I lift her gently to remove my boxers and kick them off of my ankles before setting her back down in my lap and grinding against her. Emma’s nipples are hard and she grabs my jaw and kisses me heatedly as she grinds herself against me. My hands reach down and grab each ass cheek harshly as I slide my cock through her folds, collecting her arousal which is readily available.

“You’re fucking soaked, Sugar. You like the thought of being caught out here naked?”

“Ah! Yes.” She all but moans when my tip bumps against her clit.

“Naughty girl. Anyone could look up and see your perfect body riding against mine right now.”

“Mmmmhmm.” She mewls as her juices actually drip down onto my lap. I like this new kink I’ve discovered about my bride.

With one hand grasping her tit, I take the other and shove a finger inside her core, quickly followed by a second causing her to moan louder than I had expected.

“Quiet now, Darlin’. I don’t need everyone watching my girl’s perfect body fall apart.” I smirk as I swat her ass and watch her back arch as she starts fucking herself on my fingers. Fuck, she’s so wet and warm. The sun behind her illuminates her tanned skin as she rides my fingers and I’m hard as a rock.

“Aus…I’m” is all she’s able to say before she’s squirting her climax down on to me. Her eyes are clamped shut with her hands gripping my shoulders as she arches her back and moans so sexily while I continue pumping my fingers into her to help her ride it out. I bite my lip and even have to force myself to keep my eyes open as this view is something I want to replay over and over in my mind, while also trying to keep from blowing my load without ever being touched. I pride myself on my stamina, but this ethereal woman makes me feel like a teen going through puberty. Precum is leaking steadily out of my erection and I’m taking deep breaths to keep myself from coming just from the sight in front of me. Fuck porn, this image is spank bank material for the rest of my life. Emma’s eyes reopen and she leans forward planting a dirty, wet kiss on me before lifting up, positioning herself, and sliding down on my cock. We groan together because she is so wet that even though she’s extremely tight I slide in easily. Emma doesn’t even take time to adjust before she lifts up and starts riding me. I plant my hands on her hips to help her and start sucking her nipples in my mouth as she tugs at the short strands of hair that have grown out on my head.

“After that show, I’m not going to last as long, sweetness.” I tell her and she leans down to kiss me again.

“You’re so fucking hot, Austin. I can’t wait for you to fill me with your babies and make me a mama.” She says with the most seductive smirk as she flips her hair to the side and I growl at her dirty talk. Fuck, she’s giving me a breeding kink that I never used to have.

“Fucking hell, babygirl. You want me to fill you up again?” I grunt and she nods. Without a word, I lift her off of me and bend her towards the balcony railing. Thank God we are on the 4th floor and it’s still early so lots of people are still at breakfast and not out yet.

“Hands on the railing.” I grunt in her ear and she pushes her perfect ass out. I spread her cheeks and grope her before spearing her back on my cock and fucking her, hard. I reach under her and grab onto her breasts that are bouncing from my arduous thrusting and pick up my speed. The thrill of being caught is exhilarating and I swear, Emma’s arousal is dripping down her thighs.

“My sweet, naughty girl.” I growl as I grab onto her shoulder and wrap her hair around my wrist to continue pounding into her. Emma’s sweet breathless mewls show me that she’s close but trying to remain quiet for me. I reach down and thumb her clit and feel her pussy flutter around me helplessly.

“Cum on my cock, Sugar. Let me feel you.” I grunt and moments later she shatters apart, gripping the railing to keep herself from collapsing as I also find my release and spurt my hot cum inside her walls. I grunt probably too loudly but, in my euphoria, I don’t care anymore as I fantasize about getting her pregnant right now. We rest for a moment before I pick up the discarded sheet, wrapping Emma up and pulling her back down into my lap. I do a quick glance and don’t see anyone gawking and staring so I think our tryst was successfully completed.

*RING! *RING! *RING!

The alarm suddenly lets out a shrill ring, startling me from my pornographic flashback and once again I am alone in our bed, but now with an erection that I want nothing more to take care of but I force myself to wait until tonight. I shut the offending alarm off before wiping my hand down my face, stretching and heading toward the bathroom to brush my teeth. I decide to send Emma a picture of myself smiling with the dogs and a text.

Sy: <attachment>

Happy wedding day, Sugar. I sure can’t wait to see you today. I love you.

Emma quickly returns the text with a picture of her in silk button up pajamas and messy hair and I wish I could touch her.

Future Mrs. Syverson: <attachment>

Happy Wedding Day, Baby!! I can’t wait to see you and become your wife. I love you so so much! Check in your dress shoes for a present from me! ❤️

I head back upstairs to my closet and take my shoes from the shoe rack to see a small gift box tucked into my left shoe. I open it to reveal a really nice Bulova watch with a note.

I find myself smiling at her words as I slide my new watch on my wrist. I have to admit, it looks really good. I quickly send her a text back.

Sy: Sugar, you got me the nicest gift I could have gotten. Thank you, Darlin’, I love it. Nana should be there with your gift shortly. Hope you like it. I love you.

I knew Nana would be on her way within the hour and had promised to deliver the earrings that my mom had left to me before she passed away. They were pretty little diamond drop earrings that had a pearl at the base. She wore them on her wedding day as a gift from Nana and PawPaw and she said even though her marriage didn’t work, they represented the love of her family. I sent them along with a note for Emma.

After a cup of coffee, Walter shows up and we head over to a diner for a late breakfast. He’s my only groomsmen, as Emma only wanted one bridesmaid, choosing her best friend Cassie from Alabama who I’d met several times when they video called each other. She was an extremely nice girl, redheaded and somewhat shy compared to Emma but I was happy that she came down yesterday and they got to spend the day together doing girly things in preparation for the wedding today.

“So, how you feelin’ today man? Nervous?”

“Nah, I’m excited. I would have taken her to the courthouse months ago but I wanted her to have the wedding she’s always dreamed of.”

“I’m glad you found her. She’s a really great girl and God knows how she puts up with your stubborn ass.” Walt jokes but I have to agree.

“She’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.”

“I thought you’d have the wedding at Nana and PawPaw’s ranch.”

“That was initially the idea but her mother and Nana convinced her there wasn’t enough room. Emma found the big field near first Baptist down there on main, and loved the idea of getting married in front of that massive oak tree so that was what it changed too.”

“Anything we need to do to help set up?”

“Nah, I already tried that. Nana hired the ranch hands to help out for the day. She said, and I quote, ‘Your only job is to arrive clean, in your suit, and on time. I don’t need you messing up our vision.’”

Walt laughed so loud he startled other customers as I shook my head at my Nana’s antics.

“Well, want to head back to the house and watch a game with a beer before we need to get ready?

“Absolutely.”

We head out to my truck and head back to my house.

“Emma tells me I’ll like her friend, Cassie a lot.” Walter says subtly.

Oh Emma, trying to set up her best friend and Walt because she wants everyone happy and in love. Matchmaking even on her wedding day.

“I’m sure you will.” I smirk at Walt who tries to act uninterested.

“All I know is that she’s a pretty redhead, who seems a bit shy. She is a graphic designer but I can’t remember where she works. Her and Em have been friends since preteens.”

“Good to know.” Walt nods continuing with his indifferent bluff.

About two hours later, I got a call from Nana saying that Emma loved the earrings and couldn’t stop crying while reading my letter. She already had the earrings on and was excited to wear them with her wedding gown. I felt proud that she appreciated the gift and it made me feel like mama was here with us in spirit. I’m confident that she and Emma would get on like peas in a pod.

My brother, Mark and his family came from Tennessee and would be staying at Nana and PawPaw’s house. I was happy when they came to visit and I got to meet the newest addition to our family, my 3-month-old nephew, Liam. Lucy their daughter would be our flower girl today and was an absolute ball of energy chasing Mills throughout the house. It was really enjoyable getting to catch up with them since we hadn’t been around each other in a while.

Several hours pass and I’m in my dress uniform headed over to the Baptist church with Walt. The girls were getting ready there, thanks to Nana’s membership, so that they could remain unseen before the ceremony. Everything looked incredible, and I had to hand it to the ladies that Emma would love it. Rows and rows of white chairs lined perfectly facing a flowered archway in front of the massive oak tree that had twinkling lights hanging from it. I had to take a deep breath as I saw Emma had framed my favorite portrait of my mom, and had the frame sitting in the front seat of rows of chairs. Effectively ensuring that I knew my mother’s presence was there with me. Seeing the set up made me more excited than ever to see my girl walking down the aisle towards me.

Finally, it was time. I stood at the end of the makeshift aisle with the officiant and Walter as many family and friends that I knew, and several from Emma’s hometown that I didn’t know sat in the chairs facing me. Walt had Aika on the leash with him as Cassie had Mills on the leash with her. Emma had been adamant about training him to behave for him to be at the ceremony. We all chuckled as Lucy threw flowers on the ground, and dumped the remaining flowers from her basket directly in front of the officiant before scuttling over to sit with Mark. The music switched to a romantic piano tune as the officiant called for the audience to rise and I watched as Emma emerged on her father’s arm. She was absolutely stunning in a tight-fitting white gown that hugged her figure perfectly. Her hair in delicate curls with white roses tucked in it, while holding a large bouquet of matching flowers. My favorite shy smile was across her face as she walked closer towards me down the aisle. I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life. I slightly shake my head as I can’t believe this beautiful, perfect woman was going to be mine forever.

All rights and credits go to the owner of these photos

As we joined hands and repeated our vows after the officiant, I never took my eyes off of Emma. She is easily the most radiant and incredible person, I’ve ever known. After exchanging our rings, the officiant pronounced us husband and wife. As the crowd clapped and cheered, I wrapped my arms around Emma and dipped her backwards in a passionate but appropriate kiss. Emma smiled ecstatically at me as I stood her back up before grabbing her bouquet. We gave a quick hug to her parents and my grandparents before heading down the aisle as husband and wife. As we walked back down the aisle together, our loved ones cheered for us as the photographer snapped hundreds of photos. I was more than grateful for a moment to ourselves inside the church as I scooped Emma up bridal style and carried her to a room together for a moment alone.

“Holy shit, Sugar.” I said as I stared at her body in this gown.

“Baby! We’re in a church! No cursing!” She scolded me playfully.

“Well, you’re sinful in that dress, Darlin’. Let me have a good look at you.” I motion for her to spin for me and she does so. I grunt at her before pulling her back into my arms and letting my hands roam her perfect form.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life, baby girl.” I tell her honestly and smile when her cheeks tint with blush.

“We need to go take pictures.” She says against my mouth as I pull her in for a kiss.

“Mm.. They can wait a minute. I just need a minute with my wife.” I tell her as I press another kiss to her lips.

“Anything you want, husband.” She smirks.

“You’re going to regret saying that, Sugar.” I tell her while arching my brow, not caring that we are in a church as I imply what I’m after.

“Save it for tonight, big boy. We have a wedding to get back too. I’ll make it worth your while tonight, baby.” She promises and I grunt before I adjust myself in my pants. Don’t need that showing up in all of the pictures. I pull her in for another kiss before there is a knock at the door from the photographer ready to do her job. I pout but Emma just smirks and grabs my hand before pulling me out of the room where Walt and Cassie are already waiting on us with knowing smirks.

After what feels like an hour worth of pictures of us and with our families, we head to the field which has been completely converted into a wedding reception. There is a DJ set up and tables with people already eating food. I’m starved so when Nana calls us to a table with food, Emma and I dig in.

Throughout the night, I’m surprised to see several acquaintances from the army in attendance. Turns out, Nana put Walt’s detective skills to work on tracking down any remaining army buddies and sure enough, they showed. I was proud to show Emma off to them and she loved getting to meet people from my past who couldn’t believe I settled down. Before I knew it, they were telling jokes about some of the nonsense that we all did out in the desert when we were bored between missions and Emma was absolutely captivated with each story. Before the night ended, I was dancing, yes, dancing with Emma before we left for our hotel. This woman could convince me to do just about anything with those doe eyes. I smirk at Walt who has been dancing with Cassie for several songs. Emma, as usual, was right and they seem to be hitting things off. Nana and PawPaw had just left and took the dogs with them as we were going to leave for our honeymoon tomorrow. I look at Emma who has her head resting against my chest and smile.

“Have you had a good time, Sugar?”

“Mmm, the best wedding ever. I’m so excited to be your wife. What about you?”

“It’s been perfect darlin’. I can’t believe so many of my army buddies showed.”

“I can. It’s obvious how much they all admire and respect you, baby. We should make a point to reach out more.” I just grunt in response. Everyone is so spread out now, it would be difficult to see them often. Emma cuts my train of thought with her next sentence.

“I have a little surprise for you.” Emma says while biting her lip.

“What’s that, Sugar?” Emma stretches up on her tip toes to reach the bottom of my ear.

“I stopped taking my birth control a week ago.” She whispers before looking up at me with those beautiful crystal blue eyes and a smirk that runs straight to my manhood.

“Oh yeah? Ready for me to make you a mama?” I ask her quietly.

“Yes, honey. Let’s try for a baby.” She smiles and before I can even think I’m smashing my lips to hers.

“Can we go to the honeymoon suite yet?” I ask when she pulls away from the heated kiss to take a breath, reminding me that we have an audience.

“After the bouquet and garter toss, we can leave. Shall we?”

“Fuck yes!” I murmur before she tells Diana that we are ready to go. Diana gathers all of the single women together and Emma tosses her bouquet into the crowd that is easily caught by Cassie and I smirk at Walt who just smacks my shoulder with a grunt.

Emma sits in a chair and I get down on my good knee and slide myself under her dress to go after her garter. Fuck, she’s wearing the sexiest white bridal lingerie and it makes me even more eager to get her out of here. I pull the garter off with my teeth to the cheers of the crowd before purposefully flinging it directly into Walt’s head with a chuckle. I’ve always had perfect aim and he rewards me with his signature scowl.

Thankfully, not too much later Emma and I are headed through the crowd of people showering us with flower petals as we get in the vintage car we rented to take us to the hotel. Emma wanted us to enjoy ourselves without having to worry about driving so I was happy to get to kiss on her the entire ride to the hotel.

Emma squealed as I scooped her up bridal style and carried her through the lobby to the elevators and up to our suite for the night. We’d be leaving tomorrow afternoon to catch our flight for our honeymoon but I was determined to make every minute of this night count. I could finally make love to my wife, and so that’s what we did… All. Night. Long.

Part 19

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar, @wetzilly

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me while it took me a bit longer to get this chapter out! This isn't the last chapter of the series, but I feel like this story is starting to come to an end which gives me withdrawals lol. I hope you all enjoyed their wedding!

#captain syverson #henry cavill characters #captain syverson fic #henry cavill fanfiction #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #captain syverson fluff

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first-edition · 6 months

Text

Fox and the Hound

Chapter 8

Previous chapter here

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more.

Cw for this chapter- mention of smut, mention of 18+ themes. Cussing, bathing together, mention of war, description of scarring, child abuse, sandors past, Joffrey being a little bitch, merryn trant.

Sandor stands next to joffrey in between him and cersi as a messenger has arrived.

“Your g-grace.” the man said out of breath hurrying into the great hall as he ran most of the way.

“Speak man!” jeoffry barks already annoyed.

“HIs late grace, the king's brother stannis barathion is planning to invade king's landing…and t-take the throne for himself as it is his birthright.” he says panting but talking as fast he can for the annoyed new child king.

“Where did you hear this?” cersi speaks. The man approaches cautiously, side -eyed sandor afraid of him. He hands her a piece of paper while bowing. She takes it from his hands. He backs up from the royals and waits as she reads the letter.

“Fuck..” she says under her breath.

“Mother?” Joffrey asks, looking up at her as she now stands.

“Ser merryn gathers as many men as you can to begin fortifying the walls. Tell the iron mages and blacksmiths to begin preparation for incoming weapons.” she says handing the letter to her handmaiden before ser merryn bows and begins to walk off.

“Go with him dog.” jeoffry speaks looking up at the hound as he grumbles and then follows ser merryn reluctantly. He'd much rather have his dick buried inside of you right now back in your shared chambers. Your soft body on his as your whimpers and moans echo off the stone walls of the room as you whine out his name telling him how good he feels, but no.

Hes following merryn fucking trant out to the kings gaurd and outside the castle walls to inform all of the soon to be burning kingdom.

“Don't be so silent now clegane. I know you're just jumping under that hard exterior.'' Merryn says.

“Shut the fuck up. Do you want me to beat you into the mud again? " Sandor speaks immediately, shutting the other knight up. Passing through the halls you and Sansa walk down a guard and two other ladies are waiting following behind you both. Your arms are linked and you both laugh.

You wear a light gray dress, with an off the shoulder bodice that's lined with fur, the golden and jeweled accents scattering the bodice no doubt a choice from the queen. Your skirt is held in place yet is flowy. Sansa wears something similar but in a light blue.

Sansa gives your arm a light squeeze signaling for you to look ahead and you are seeing sandor with ser merryn. You both meet at the hall as ser merryn and sandor both stop giving a quick bow before speaking.

“Princess, my lady.” ser merryn says.

“Where are you both off too you're never assigned together?” you speak.

“None of your concern my lady.” Merryn speaks you raise your eyebrows at his sudden rudeness

“Well..then I hope my beloved husband will enlighten me?”you say turning your head to sandor fixing your eyes on his.

“No. he will not.” Sandor speaks coldly before looking up at the other guard behind you both.

“You. Go with trant to the amory.” he gruffly speaks. The knight nod and bows to you before ser merryn and him walk onward to the journey they were set on.

“Sandor?” you ask.

“Stannis Baratheon is going to invade kings landing and take the throne in 3 days.” he speaks once ser merryn is gone from ear shot.

“What?” Sansa speaks. Before letting go of you.

“Excuse me.” she hurries off her maid following her and you and sandor and your hand maiden are left in the halls.

“Are you certain?” you ask.

“Yes. one of varys messengers sent the note.” he says

“I'll arrange for you and I to take a ship to Volantis then.” you say.

“Don't bother, I won't be on it with you.” he says, looking down at you.

“W-what? Why not?” you ask, stepping closer to him.

“I'm staying here, I have to fight on the king's orders,” he says. You scoff a sarcastic smile forming on your face.

“And since when have you carried what the boy king has to order?” you roll your eyes and cross your arms at his stupid notion.

“Since he married you to me.” he speaks plainly now, finding his notion no longer stupid as you drop your arms to your sides. You slightly bite your lip, a sheen of blush flowing to your cheeks as your eyes revert down quickly before looking back up at him.

“O-oh..” you stutter out.

“I'll have more guards posted outside your doors.” he says before moving around you and heading off down the hall to assign guards to be posted. You stand there watching as he walks away before he disappears past the corner.

“If it's not too much to mention my lady, but, I think the lord clegane may love you.” your maiden says. A small smile forms on your lips.

“I think you're right.” you say smiling at her before you both turn to continue your walk down the hall.

—---

You didn't see Sandor for the rest of the day after he informed you. He was outside the wall and in the knightstand training area. Watched out to the court yard as more troops of knights marched in but sandor was nowhere to be seen. You missed him.

You missed him until the night fell and you were in your room. He wasn't lying about having more guards posted outside the room, instead of the usual two three were now eight. Two on either side of the door and two across from your door posted on either side. Your handmaids scurried past them as they entered and exited.

“Will you draw a bath please?” you ask one of them. She nodded and left along with another to collect the contents for bathing. You sighed and undid the lacing of the back of the dress you wear. The stretch of reaching behind you a much needed one as the ache of your muscles from your night with sandor last was still lingering.

The doors open once again making you turn your head in confusion as to why your hand maidens were back so fast. But you were met happily with the sight of your husband. He sets down his sword on the side of the door against the wall. He groans annoyingly as he does.

“I haven't seen you all day. Are you alright?” you ask, walking up. You meet him and place your hands on his cheeks; he slightly leans into your soft touch. Your palm resting on the scarred part of his face.

“Bunch of cunts.” he grumbles.

“I have the maids drawing a bath ... .would you ... .would you like to join me?” you ask. Sandor goes quiet bringing his hand up to yours keeping it placed on your cheek.

“Okay.” he simply says. Your heart jumps at his answer.

“I'll need something from you first.” you say.

“Mm.” he answers.

“Can you unlace my dress?” you ask. He lets out a soft chuckle and nods. You take your hand from his face only to catch his hand in yours and lead him to the bed.

“When you ask me to unlace your dress, little fox…” he trails off as you sit him on the bed.

“I mean unlace my dress.” you say turning around standing in the space between his legs. You move your hair to the side as he had come up feeling the fabric on your waist making you shiver before he truly moves to the back of your dress and begins to unlace the dress.

You feel it becoming looser and looser with each segment of lacing until it's loose enough to slip off your body. You step out of it as you bend down, picking it up and laying it on the space next to him on the bed. Left in your underclothes sandors hands find your waist again, turning you around to face him.

He pulls you closer to him leaning his head up but not too much as even as sitting he's still comfortably level with you. His lips catch yours in a kiss feeling the softness he was deprived of all day. You moan into his mouth as his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips and your arms around his neck. The kiss is only broken when the doors open once again your hand maids arrive with bathing materials and begin to fill the tub in the corner but not before apologizing for intruding on the two of you.

You admire the features of your husband, his scruff already growing back from shaving it thank goodness on your behalf. You sit on his lap, the hot water warming you both. His arms rest on either side of the bathtub as his eyes search you. No matter how many times he will view your body nothing will ever compare to its beauty. The moment calms him but the focus is to keep the blood rushing to his cock while your breasts are virtually centered in front of his face. His knuckle tightens the side of the tub as he closes his eyes.

“S-sorry.” you speak, causing his eyes to open again and his grip to cease. He looks up at you in confusion. Your hands are now resting on his collar bones.

“It's not that..” he says realizing you pulled away thinking he closed his eyes due to you touching his scars. He takes your hand bringing it back to his face somehow finding a sort of comfort in you tracing his marks.

“Does it still hurt?” You ask him as you move his hair out of his face, your fingers brushing against his scar.

“No.” He says

“Good…what happened?” You ask

“I’m sure some servant has told you the gruesome story.” He says slowly.

“Yes…but..I’m asking you. What happend?” You ask again.

“Like you’ve heard little fox, I was pressed into the fire like a nice juicy mutton chop by my brother.” He says gesturing to his scar.

“Why.” You ask.

“Though I stole one of his toys, I didn't steal it, I was just borrowing it…playing with it. I was 6 or so.” He says you tilt your head slightly brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“The pain was bad, the smell was worse…but…” he sighs before continuing.

“The worst thing was that it was my brother who did it. My older brother. My father who protected him..told everyone my bedding caught fire. And my mother…wouldn’t even look at me said i was too ugly to love.” He says eyes averting from yours. It's quiet, the only noise is the crackling of the fire and the light swishing of the water.

“I can look at you...” You say moving closer to him. His eyes make contact with yours like before.

“...And I love you, Sandor.” You say he lets out a relieved sort of sigh before pulling you to him placing a much need kiss on your forehead.

chapter 9 here

Tag list- @stephyshadows @germansarechill

#sandor x reader #sandor the hound clegane #sandorclegane #sandor clegane #Sandor clegane x reader fic #got x princess reader #Sandor x princess reader

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jungle-angel · 2 years

Text

Restless (Bob x Reader)

Summary: After the bird strike during training, Bob’s mind keeps him up at night

You blinked your eyes open in the darkened bedroom, your eyes trailing to the empty side of the bed and up to the clock, the red digital numbers reading 2:05 AM.

Where the hell was Bob?

You tossed aside the covers and padded quietly down the halls towards Auggie’s little nursery room. You found Bob sitting with him in the rocker by the dim light of the little table lamp, the tiny little baby tucked against his bare chest under his little blue blanket that Irene, Bob’s mother, had made him as Auggie quietly sucked away on his pacifier. You couldn’t help but notice the thousand yard stare in your husband’s eyes and the glassy look they had to them, a glassiness that made him look like he would cry.

“Bob?” you whispered.

No answer.

“Bob?”

He turned towards you, your eyes meeting as his chest began to tighten. “Baby I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking.

“Sorry for what?”

“For what happened.”

“The bird strike?” you asked him.

Bob bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, the tears already beginning to run down his cheeks.

You hugged his shoulders tightly, pressing a kiss to his bicep. “Baby I understand,” you told him. “I was exactly where you are when they told me what happened.”

“I just.....I can’t,” Bob choked. “I love you both so much. I need to.....I need to be here. For you and for August.”

You were trying not to cry yourself. Next week, Bob would be heading for the Uranium Plant mission and would be gone for a week and a half. It didn’t sound like much, but you quickly realized how much you desperately needed each other.

“You’ll come back,” You told him. “I know you will.”

Bob leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. “I know you don’t want to hear it,” he said. “But I’m scared.”

“Me too,” you said.

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

You waited outside at The Hard Deck, the ocean waves crashing close to the beach and the dusky blue sky above. You held Auggie close to your chest, the newborn snuggled inside the baby blanket while the rowdier patrons inside were making as much noise as they could possibly make.

You felt your heart leap into your throat when you saw several vehicles pulling into the parking lot with Rooster’s old Bronco in the lead. As soon as everybody had parked and left the vehicles, you feared that Auggie would slip from your grasp, your arms tightening. But when you saw the smiles plastered on everyone’s faces and a familiar one amongst the group, you felt the relief wash right over you.

“Oh if it isn’t Momma and her little bird!!” Hangman cheerfully announced. “Queen, your King has returned.”

A sob escaped your throat when you saw Bob approaching, your feet bringing you to him with the space closing quickly between you both. He took your face in his hands, kissing you passionately as a few wolf whistles were heard amongst the others.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’d all come back?” you told him.

Bob was caught somewhere between laughing and crying as he held you in his arms. You could feel his hot tears in the curve of your neck and Auggie trying to push himself off your chest. He let out a loud cry as he beat at your breasts with his tiny little fists, his pink face scrunching up as he cried.

“Oh boy,” you said. “I know who he wants.”

You handed Auggie off to Bob, his hands trembling and shaking as he held the baby in his arms, holding him close to his chest as his lips brushed against the delicate little tufts of dark blonde hair. Auggie let out another little cry as his fingers wrapped around Bob’s dog tags.

“Oh baby, shhh,” Bob murmured. “It’s alright. Daddy’s home now.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as everybody snapped pictures and took short little videos on their phones, especially as Bob rocked August back to sleep, his hushed murmurs of “don’t cry, Daddy’s here” and “I love you” reaching their ears like crickets.

No one wanted to leave the stretch of beach that night with Penny and Maverick opting to camp out on the beach with everybody. Tents were set up, sleeping bags were piled in and everyone soon went to sleep with the sound of the ocean crashing on the shore outside.

You unzipped the flap on the tent, moving in next to Bob who was trying to get Auggie to go back to sleep. “Sorry honey,” he said sheepishly. “He woke up while you were outside.”

“Baby it’s fine,” you told him. “He’s just excited to have you back.”

A quiet little coo came from Auggie as Bob gently rubbed his son’s little belly, trying to get him to go back to sleep so he could put him in the wicker sleeping basket close by.

“I know I was scared,” he said. “But I’m glad to be home.”

You pressed a firm kiss to his lips with Bob giving in and returning it fully. “Same here baby,” you told him.

“Would it shock you too if I told you the squad will all be civilian instructors from here on out?”

“Wait what?”

Bob nodded. “I’m not missing a thing,” he said. “I made it back three days before Auggie was born and got lucky. I’m not taking another chance like that again. I wanna be there when he starts taking his first steps and says his first word.”

“You will baby,” you said. “And you’re gonna be the best instructor Top Gun has ever seen.”

Bob kissed you again before the three of you settled in and snuggled close to each other. There was no doubt in your mind, that you would be one of the closest families that Miramar had ever seen.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun short fics

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crystlizabeth · 9 months

Text

Daddy’s girl ‧₊˚

Phillip Graves x black!Sheperd!femreader

Warnings: suggestive, smut, age gap(reader is 23, Graves is 34), curssing, use of daddy(towards her father and graves), not proofread, spanking, slight degrading, hair pulling.

Summary: when stopping by your fathers work place you just happen to run into your lil situationship while at it turns out he works for your daddy, imagine that.

While even being a Daddy’s girl she always found herself in the arms of an older man. Her friends always thought it was maybe because her dad wasn’t around alot when she was growing up, but no Shepherds daughter had always been his princess. She knew better than to bring these guys home or even around her father so her relationship where always on the down low.

Now, she was in the bed of her situationship you could say, kinda boyfriend but never really committed. Though it was just you two no openness to the said relationship just them, his hands traced circles on her back as they laid together in his bed. The early morning having to start soon, “ya know sweetheart imma have to get up soon.” He spoke his morning voice causing goosebumps. She feel the sunlight breaking through the window hitting her back.

A small groan came from her lips before she asked “you have too..?” She looked up her head laying on his chest batting her lashes softly.

He hummed kissing her forehead before unraveling himself from her hold, his back facing her as he rubbed his face preparing to get up. She let her french tipped coffin nails run over the marks she left lightly. She sat up on her stomach watching the man walk around the room gathering the girl’s undergarments.

“I like this..” he spoke inspecting her white bra with little flowers on it “looks good on ya darlin’.” He grinned handing her the bra and pink laced panties to her.

“You kicking me out?” She asked giving him a teasing smile taking the undergarments from Graves.

“Your welcome to stay as long and you feel, just remember to let the dogs out and close the gate.” He said cupping her face kissing her toned lips.

“Of course daddy.” She spoke through the kiss her hands placed on the side of his neck.

“Mmm, carful sweetheart..” he warned his tone low. His hand held her face tightly pulling it back from his.

“Why..” her voice innocently asked, she knew why. Her hand falling down to the hem of his briefs.

He looked down at her as he looked through her lashes at him. He took a deep breath before pushing her head back lightly causing the girl to laugh.

“I cant be late today..” he spoke looking at her, “ill have to deal with you later tonight.”

He looked back again watch a fat grin spread across her face, the morning sun casting a beautiful light on her brown skin.

She soon walked in the bathroom with her little toiletrie bag pulling out her toothbrush. She started cleaning herself up as Phillip walked in and out getting ready for work, he came up behind her as she finished up her make up his arms wrapping around her kiss her neck.

“Ill see you tonight yeah?” You asked lightly.

“Mmhm I have plans for us.” He spoke between kisses.

“Cant wait..” she smiled at him through the mirror, her body turning to face him pulling him down by his collar giving him a kiss her glossy lips leaving traces of her behind.

“Bye sweetheart remember-” he began, “make sure Cutter and Bailey are outside and close the gate on my way out. Bye baby ill see ya later.” She said blowing him a kiss.

With that he left leaving her to head out herself to run some erens. While getting into her vehicle her phone rang a call from her mother coming through.

“Hi mama, whats up?” She said.

“Baby I need you to do me a favor and take your daddy some lunch, he left his in the fridge you think you can get it to him?” Her mom asked through the phone her tone irritated probably for the fact her husband forgot his lunch again.

She let out a small laugh “yeah mama no problem, can you send me the address of his facility.”

The woman on the other side of the phone gave her daughter the address, “alright mama ill stop by.”

“Thank you baby, by the way I heard your seeing someone.” Mama spoke.

“Where did you hear that?” She asked acting clueless.

“The girls at the salon in downtown said the saw you with someone, tall, white, blonde.” Her mother began describing Phillip.

“No mama that was a a guy helping me with my car” she lied.

“Mmhm what wrong with your car?” She asked knowing danm well better, because her husband would have gotten a call that her car was acting up.

“Just needed help stating it back up.” You continue.

“Mm alright, ill talk to ya later baby.”

“Bye mama.” She finished ending the call.

The woman let out a groan knowing damn well her mother could hear straight through her lie, “imma get my ass in trouble.”

After running errands and doing a few things for work she stoped by her parents house, who knew you grew up in a house just like her current flings home. Nice farm house with good amount of land secluded from everyone else. Getting out she was greeted by her parents shepherd molly who stay out side when nobodys home.

Running into the house she went straight to the fridge grabbing her father lunch bad and a water bottle. Before leaving she noticed the two French door to her fathers study were open, if she wasn’t nosy she would have close the doors and continue on but she didn’t. Walking in she noticed paperwork spread out in his desk she sat the food down gently stacking the papers setting them to the side she looked up noticing new photos on his desk. She noticed the ones of her and her mother some of her siblings also but one stood out a framed picture that was work related and she just happened to recognize one of the other men in the frame.

“Oh shit..”

Graves stood there in the picture an arm around your father as the both smiled. He looked a bit younger in this picture which means he’s know her dad for a long fucking while.

“At least they get along..”she mumble staring at the photo.

The sound of her phone ringing making her head snap over putting the photo down carefully, ‘Lip💋’ the screen showed.

“Hello..” she spoke answering the phone.

“Well hello darlin’ you alright? Ya sound a bit i don’t know..” he asked.

She hummed “yeah im alright baby just havin to run an errand.”

“Alrighty, I was wondering you wanna meet for dinner tonight nothing fancy something with a bar?” He asked she could hear voices around him like he was outside.

“Yeah sounds nice, i gotta run my daddy his lunch slash dinner considering it’s almost 4.” She laughed lightly.

He hummed “okay Darlin’ just let me know when you’re done, im off at 6.” He spoke she could hear his smirk through the phone.

“What?” She said.

“Hm?” He hummed.

“Whats got you all smilin’ i can feel it through the phone Graves.” She sassed.

“Oh nothin’ darlin’, just you still call your father daddy still.” He spoke “and you where callin me that all of last night.” He teased.

“Shut the fuck up, oh my lord.” She groaned, hearing the man on the other side irrupt with laughter.

“Its not funny its gross when you put it that way!”

“Common darlin’ with the way it just slips from your lips i would assume you have some personal issues with your father.” He spoke continuing to laugh.

“We for your information, i have a wonderful relationship with my father!”

“Mm you must be a daddys girl huh, how am I supposed to share that title with your father?” He spoke amused with himself.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yet you still love it especially when I’m inside you, ain’t that right babydoll?” He asked expecting an answer.

“Mmhm yes sir, i do.” She spoke antagonizing him.

“Atta girl, alrighty doll ill talk to you later gotta let you ho before my guys get back.” He said, his accent making all the right words sound just right to make her eyes roll.

“Okay bye baby.” Her voice hummed. A smile lingering on her lips god he was gonna be the death of her.

She quickly grabbed her dads stuff going out to her vehicle getting ready to take it to him.

‘Hey daddy! Mama told me to stop by and give you your lunch sorry im running a bit late love you!💗’ she text her father getting a quick response

Daddy!!🦅:

‘Okay princess see you soon❤️’

Pulling up to the gate she showed them her id before going in, she parked quickly walking in the realization that she could very well run in to Phillip slight panic washed through her body as she thought more about it. Walking up to the desk she smiled at the woman behind it “hi Monie here to see my Dad.” She spoke.

The woman returning the smile telling her to that she was clear to walk into his office. “Thank you ma’am”

As she did she saw a few of his blinds closed so she knocked lightly before entering. “Hi daddy monie said i was free to walk in.” She spoke her breath hitching as she noticed the man standing in-front of her father’s desk. ‘Oh fuck..’ she thought her stomach dropping when he turned around to look at her. Phillips eyes widened as he made eye contact for a moment before hearing shepherd speak.

“Hi sweetie, you’re alright just finishing up somethings.” He smiled hugging you.

“Thats good, wish I could stay but i have plans tonight.” She spoke lightly looking over at Graves.

Shepherd looked up from his lunch bag back to noticing the glance you gave Phillip.

“Now where are my manners, (name) this is Commander Graves, Graves this is my youngest Daughter (name).” Shepherd said introducing the two both.

Phillip reading the room sticks out his hand offering to shake her hand, she accepted “Phillip Nice to meet you ma’am” he spoke formally. She internally screamed hearing ‘ma’am’ roll off of his tongue like that.

“Nice you meet you too phillip.” her eyes scanning his expression noticing the friendly smile he gave her like when the first met.

Soon after that phillip excused himself saying ‘I gotta go have a date tonight.’ While stealing a glance at the younger woman. Her eventually excusing herself aswell leaving her father with a kiss and a quick goodbye.

While walking out she noticed Phillip out by his truck she quickly walked over to the driver’s side tapping on the window he looked over rolling dow the window. “Please dont be mad at me, I didn’t know you worked for my father.” She said quickly her brows frowned.

His expression softened at her panic “oh doll im not upset, just definitely was not expecting that. Plus i could have never know nor could you.” He said his hand pushing her pressed hair our of her face.

Be took a deep breath “but how do you think he’ll react knowing im dating his daughter, mind you thats about ten years younger than me.”

He spoke, she pressed her lip together “he’ll probably hurt you not enough to kill you be i take it your one of his best but he’ll hurt you..” she spoke her voice filled with nothing but truth.

“Hey darlin’ look at me im not to worried, but im willin’ to fight for ya.” He spoke

“Now lets go to dinner.”

So they did the dropped of her car and continued the night as planned.

But before getting up the the restaurant he pulled her over the center console on to his lap, “lip not here people can see.” She spoke he hands placed on his chest.

He simply shook his head “its dark enough outside my tent is dark, only ill be able to see you” his words hushed as he kissed down her neck. His large hands traveling under her top.

A soft moan left her lips as Phillp sucked on her neck. That motivating him to pull the top off and mess with her skirt pulled it up more and over her ass. “Just a quickie love you seem like you need it, practically undressed me with those pretty little eyes if your in front of your father.” He growled against her neck he could feel her hips moving against him wanting friction.

“Then fuck me lip.” She spoke, he quickly grabbed the back of her hair disconnected her lips from his, “nuh uh you know my name and where are your manners.” He said his eyes squinting. A quick slap to the ass making her yelp “fuck, please Daddy please fuck me.” She begged.

“Yeah, what good little slut common you got more than that.” He encouraged.

“Please daddy fuck me, fill me up i wanna have your cum dripping down my legs.” She moaned feeling Phillip release himself from his wranglers.

“Is that how you want it baby?” He asked teasing her entrance. Her head nodded frequently, “use your words.”

“Yes thats how i want it.”

He let go oh her hair pushing her down on him not giving her a moment to spare to adjust to him. His hips fucked her quickly her nails digging into her shoulders as her face laid in the nape of his neck trying to keep somewhat of quiet.

“Please daddy, oh fuck~ please don’t stop.” She begged her voice shaky.

Another slap landed on her ass his hand staying down to massage it after “thats right common take that shit, just like that.” He moaned in her ear.

“Fuckin look at me.” He said forcing her head up feeling her wall’s tighten around him.

Her brows frowned, god didn’t he love how pathetic she looked every time she took him so well she looked on the verge of tears. “Oh baby dont go runing your make up” he spoke amused looking at her.

“Go on touch yourself, lets see how shaky we can get your pretty self.” He watched her hand reach down to her clit starting to rub circles her voice cracking at the touch of her sensitive nub. His tongue started to play with her nipples a loud moan coming from her.

“Im gonna cum, please daddy let me come all over your dick.” She begged.

“Go on then.” He grunted feeling himself about to finish aswell.

“Common sweetheart dont stop.” He spoke his arms wrapping around her waist as he pumped in her the felling of his balls tightening and her walls clamping around him, both of them in a sense of euphoria.

She could feel his load inside her moving her hips a little more before dismounting him.

They quickly cleaned themselves up enough anyway, he looked over at her reapplying her gloss he pulled her over to him. He kissed her deeply, savoring her in this moment. After pulling away she smiled wiping the gloss off his lips “its not really your color.” She joked.

Earning a laugh from him. “I dont know if you heard what i said earlier but i meant it. Us dating.” He clarified”

She smiled her head tilting to the side innocently. “I know i just wanted you to confirm it.”

He raised an eyebrow “well sorry i didn’t get you flowers but, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Well obviously. You though fucking me came without a cost?” She smirked kissing him again.

“Oh i know, and now imma feed you, though your already stuffed.” He winked exiting the truck.

A/n: WOW OKAY i know this isn’t a Ghost work and never did i think i would write for graves but holy shit did i had fun writing this I literally wrote this in a 3 hour time span so i hope yall like it!

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countrymusiclover · 10 months

Text

18 - Mr and Mrs. Cooper

( image from Pinterest )

Part 19

The Texas Tire Family

Tags just ask - @supernaturalgirl30 @bvbwestfall @bubble-blu @patriciaplictisita @liesanddreams @bethanymccauley

Missy ran down a hallway to the last bedroom putting her baseball and mit away. She came back grinning ear to ear. “So my brothers are weird. My dad drinks beer and my mom is really strong about god. Other than that I’m the normal one.”

“Okay I’ll keep that in mind.” I nodded, putting my hands inside the pockets of my jacket until the back room opened.

I noticed Sheldon was carrying some mittens in his hand and he stood in front of us. “You’re Y/n from my math class that sits in the front row. You did well on our last test. Not as good as me but not bad.”

“Uh thanks Sheldon. Can I ask why you have mittens?” I made the mistake the first night I had dinner with his family.

Missy rolled her head back. “Oh no.”

“I don’t know where your hands have been. I don’t want to risk the likelihood that you have some kind of disease. There are too many in the world.” He explained moving around us to watch a science tv show.

The back door opens and I saw their mother come in with some brisket getting the table set in the dining room. The bedroom door in front of me and Missy opened and I smiled seeing it was Georgie. “Hey Georgie.”

“Hey Y/n.” He smiled wearing a yellow tea shirt with a football number on it. He had blue jeans on with henna shoes. I gulped feeling nervous since I was just wearing a Texas tea shirt that was light blue and some dark blue jeans with my hair in a ponytail.

The three of us headed into the kitchen seek Mr. Cooper had come in from work wearing his red coach gear. “Hey ya’ll. Georgie, did you invite a girl from school to dinner?”

“No!” He fought back.

Missy piped up. “I did.”

“Alright well let’s eat.” He shrugged his shoulders sitting down at the end of the table. Missy sat across from me. Georgie and Sheldon were on the same side.

Someone entered the house where I saw an older woman sit down at the other end across from George Senior. “Hey ya’ll who’s the new girl?”

“Y/n, ma’am.” I smiled while putting some brisket on my plate.

She smiled at me. “Call me Connie.” Mrs. Cooper had us all take hands while she blessed the food before we all dug in.

“This is really good, meemaw.” Georgie told Connie with his mouth full of meat.

She sat her fork down on her plate. “Really good. You’re spitting the best brisket in Texas all over the damn table.” I snort covering my mouth with my hand holding the fork trying not to laugh out loud.

“Close your mouth.” His mom said.

Sheldon suggested back. “Or aim your face the other way before you spit on Y/n.”

“You're acting like a barn animal. Y/n probably won’t ever kiss ya.” Missy stuck her tongue out towards her brother causing my face to turn red at the thought.

Georgie hit his other hand on the table where I glanced out the corner of my eye seeing that he was blushing too where a smile grew on my face. “Shut up, Missy. I ain’t gonna kiss the girl in my class that you invited to dinner.”

“I bet you a dollar that you will get with her in two years.” She challenged him.

I added on playing her game smirking at Georgie. “When she is going into middle school.”

“Oh yay!” Missy leaned across the table high fiving me grinning with me. Unknown to either of us it would actually happen when we were both sixteen years old.

Georgie and I were huddled up as close as we could be. Aurora, Eve and Montana in between us with the storm crashing outside the upstairs of the church. I didn’t know how long we had been down in the basement. But it was scary as hell that much I knew. Clutching my eyes shut tightly I whimpered like a dog until someone peeked outside announcing to our group. “The storm has passed now. We can go check out the damage.”

Everyone got to their feet and shuffled outside as best as we could. Georgie got to his feet first helping me to stand on my own two feet. “I’m sorry about your dress, darling.” He dropped his gaze downward to my wedding gown.

“It’s just a dress, Georgie. I’m more relieved that my family is safe.” I shrug my shoulders pushing hair behind my ear. The dress was stained with dust and dirt on the bottom train but otherwise it was white still for the most part.

Aurora and Eve ran towards the main doors pushing them open. I was carrying Montana in my arms where he was drooling a little on my shoulder. “Mommy, look at the truck.” Eve points out where we both gasped in relief.

“Holy crap.” I sighed seeing that a large tree limb was laying right beside our car meaning it was fine but it definitely was a close call.

Georgie put a hand on my shoulder squeezing it gently. “Things could have been worse.”

“Thank you lord.” His mother said, holding her hands together praying to the sky.

Sheldon just glanced at Amy who gave him a look. “Don’t say it.”

“She probably will say God sent the storm and then took it away.” He didn’t listen and said it anyway.

Connie came over to us pulling a box of firecrackers in her hands. “I thought I’d get you two of these as a wedding present. Since Mary is going to be watching your kids tonight.”

“Oh mom.” Mary rolled her eyes.

Georgie glanced down at me wrapping his arm around my waist tugging me into his side smirking. “Take you back doesn’t it, Y/n?”

“For sure. At least this time we won’t have to worry about being grounded.” I chuckled at him, grinning up at him. I would remember that night forever.

Mary came over gently picking up Montana from my arms. “I know your father would be happy if he was here. You’re a good father and husband Georgie.”

“Mommy, can we throw the poppers?” Eve asked tugging on the side of my gown.

I bent down handing the box to my husband, opening my arms for her. “Unfortunately no sweetheart. They are for your father and me. But we will let you throw some if we don’t use them all. Now give me a hug.”

“I love ya.” She mumbled jumping into my arms hugging me gently.

She ran towards her daddy jumping up into his arms where he grunted at how fast she ran at him. “Woah Eve. I love ya too.”

“Rora, behave for Connie.” I warned our eldest daughter when I noticed something in her pocket when she walked over to her father hugging him. “And don’t set you or your sister on fire with that cracker in your jacket pocket.”

Georgie smiled when I sent him a raised brow. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t give it to her.”

“Sure, you didn’t Mr. Cooper.” I trailed off, raising myself to stand heading over to his truck. Georgie came over to me making me squeal when he picked me up bridal style sitting me in the passenger seat. He got in the driver's seat taking us back to our house that was down the road from Connie’s.

We finally had gotten enough money to move out of the apartment and buy a house of our own. Georgie opened his door coming over to my side where I wrapped my arms around his neck when he picked me up again. “Georgie, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this now.”

“Neither can I, babe. Now let’s do this the right way.” He opened the door when I grabbed the keys from his back pocket. After fiddling with the lock I got it open since he was still carrying me in his arms. “Welcome home, Mrs. Cooper.”

My dress hit the floor where I spun around underneath his arm when he gave me a spin. “Thank you, Mr. Cooper. I love you, Georgie. Just thought I needed to say it again.”

“You don't have to stop saying it ever. Cause I love you too. I’ll never stop, darling.” He tugged me against his chest watching when I moved my hands up undoing the tie he had on throwing it off when he shut the door with his boot.

I smiled up at him leaning up on my toes and he closed the gap kissing me slowly. One of his hands moved to the back of my dress tugging on the zipper where I broke the kiss smirking. “We should probably move this to the bedroom.”

“Probably a good idea.” He nodded leading me by our intertwined hands into our bedroom. We both kicked off our shoes and he removed his jacket just being in jeans and his white tea shirt.

Laying down on the bed I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him in for another kiss. He put one hand on my hip, kissing me slowly. His other hand was in my hair tugging on it for a second until he broke the kiss. “What’s wrong?”

“With our track record of when we sleep together I just….I want to make sure you're cool. With ya know maybe a fourth kid and all.” He searched my face for any hesitation and he has done it every time since we were teenagers when we had Aurora.

Running one hand through his hair I drew him in for another kiss. “Georgie, I said this with Eve and I said it with Montana. I ain’t gonna run because you get me pregnant. I love you always. Now kiss me, Mr. Texan.”

“God you don’t know what that nickname does to me.” He smirked quickly trying to shrug his shirt over his head and then helped me remove my dress by tossing it on the chair by the shut bedroom door so it wouldn’t end up on the floor.

Resting my hands on his shoulders I smiled up at him hovering above me. “Probably the same way you call me darling. Every time it drives me crazy and I love you for it.”

“And I’ll never stop cause you're always going to be my darling.” He smiled wrapping his arms around me when I put my legs around his waist pressing my lips onto his. The rest of the night was spent in bed enjoying being in each other's arms finally as a married couple after ten years.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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topguncortez · 1 year

Text

Friends with the Monster

synopsis: sometimes the monsters under our beds aren't our friends

word count: 1k

warnings: nightmares, PTSD, mentions of overdosing, mentions of drug usage, police, crying, CPS

Stud & Sugar Masterlist

He was sure that you didn’t mean to fall asleep on him. You were yet to spend the night, leaving at odd hours of the night to avoid your current position. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Rooster, it was that spending the night seemed. . . too intimate for what you two were doing. Which, neither of you quite knew what you were doing. It was somewhere between dating and borderline bullying each other. The sexual tension between the two of you was so thick you could probably cut through it with a plastic fork. But there was also fear that held the two of you back, from making that step.

Who knew that the first fuck could be so difficult to get out of the way?

Rooster was positive that you didn’t mean to be curled up next to him, your head on his chest, an arm wrapped around his waist and legs tangled together. He was so positive that you didn’t mean to slip off into dreamland, your breaths even, your face still and lips slightly parted. But he didn’t have the heart to wake you up and tell you to go home. Part of him didn’t like the idea of you driving across town half awake, and the other half didn’t want you to leave at all. So, he let it go, staying as still as he could and let you sleep on him. He didn’t even let the drool you were creating bother him. He was content having you in his arms that he settled himself in on the couch and let himself drift off too.

— — —

You had seen this room before, but you didn’t know where. It was like one of those pictures that everyone has seen but nobody can pinpoint where exactly. You were barefoot, and the ground below was cold, almost damp it felt like. You were wearing a gray dress that hit right above your knees and your hair was pulled back in a braid that went down your back. You went to take one step forward, and that’s when the room shifted.

It was now your childhood bedroom. Bright pink walls, and bedsheets that smelled like cigarette smoke. You were certain that the photos on the wall would leave behind a stain from the nicotine that stained the walls. You were now on your bed and in your hands was a pink stuffed elephant that you were sure went missing at one of the various foster homes you were in. Its ear was still tattered, something that happened when you decided to play tug-of-war with the neighbor’s dog. Your eyes moved from the elephant to the mirror that was placed above your dresser.

Standing up from the bed, you walked towards it, looking at yourself in the mirror. The scar on your cheek wasn’t there, and your eyes. . . they had a sort of innocence and light in them that you hadn’t seen in years. You furrowed your eyebrows as you reached your hand up to touch your cheek when the door slammed open. A man in a black uniform with a hat stood in the doorway and glared at you.

“There’s a kid!”

Your heart started pounding in your chest. Now you remember this. You remember all of this.

You turned your head quickly to look back in the mirror, and suddenly, you were eight years old again. Those same eyes looked back at you, soft and innocent. The scar still was missing. But you were in the same gray dress as before.

“Take her!” Someone else yelled from inside the house.

“No. . . No!” You screamed and made a beeline for your bed, crawling into the corner of it. The large man moved and grabbed your ankle as your hands wrapped around the wire bed frame, “No! Daddy! Daddy!”

You kicked your legs and screamed until your face turned red. The cop pried your hand away from the frame and held you in his arms as you kicked and hit him. He walked you through the house, where you saw your mother sitting on the couch being tended to by a medic, and outside your father was getting loaded up into an ambulance. The sirens were ear splitting and the lights were bright as the cop walked you towards an awaiting cop car, and put you in the back seat, slamming the door. You sat up on your knees and banged on the window, watching your parents get taken from you.

“Daddy! No! Please!” Your screams fell on deaf ears. No one was going to help you. No one was going to save you.

— — —

He wasn’t sure what he was hearing at first. It sounded like a mix between a whimper and a sigh, but it was loud enough to wake him up out of his sleep. He blinked a couple of times, the bright light of the TV making his eyes have to adjust. But he heard the whimper sigh sound again and looked down to find the culprit.

Your face was now contorted as your eyebrows were pulled into a tight knit. Your hand was fisting his sweatshirt tightly, your knuckles turning white. Your legs were kicking against his and what sounded like the word ‘no’ fell from your lips over and over.

Rooster has had his fair share of nightmares to know what this was, and had witnessed his fair share to know how to get you out of it. He took you in his arms tighter, wrapping both of them around you, and pulling you into his chest.

“Hey, sugar, you’re okay,” He whispered to you, “You’re okay. It’s just a dream,” His lips brushed against your forehead, as his hand brushed a strand of hair back from your face. He settled his hand on your cheek and ran his thumb over the soft skin. He watched you as you slowly opened your eyes back to the land of consciousness, seeing unshed tears in your eyes, “You’re safe.”

It was as if those were the words to break the damn, and he watched your bottom lip quiver before tears fell down your cheeks. He guided your head to his chest and held you there as you cried, your hands still gripping on tightly to his shirt, as if he were to disappear on you.

@bradshawseresinbabe @cherrycola27 @damrlova @phoenix1388 @mak-32 @darkcherryheart @Lilylikyyyyyy @princess76179 @thedroneranger @startrekfangirl2233 @roosterscock @cassiemitchellrecs @bioodforbiood @endofdays56 @daggerspare-standingby @je-suis-prest-rachel @xoxabs88xox @finn-dot-com @anurst @some-lovely-day @angelbabyange @mishala005 @pinkpantheris

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mintmatcha · 2 years

Text

careful patchwork

okkotsu yuuta x reader - apocalypse au

cw: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! 18+, cisfem reader, blood, violence, slight gore, mentions of knives and needles, death, sex, mature themes!!!

wc: 5k

synopsis: when chance brings you into his life, Yuuta has to decide which parts of the past define him.

A/N: a big thank you to @heich0e for being my beta-reader. Your advice, love and friendship are so valuable to me!!!!!!!!

He first met you in a break in the chaos, in between the world falling apart.

Yuuta watched the fire crackle, the kindling consumed and logs just starting to catch. It painted the night with scarlet movement, as if the flame itself was alive and dancing. The glow barely illuminated the woods, casting only vague, gray shadows through the trees, the flame blinding him to everything outside of his circle. If he stared into the nothingness for too long, lost in the silence of the world and the silence of his own thoughts, his eyes would play tricks on him; a stray lick of flame would send shadows darting across his vision and his whole body would tense in reflex.

His body ached for sleep, ached to rest his head on a real pillow. The days had been long, the fights somehow longer. He was starting to think it’d never end.

Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe this was life, he thought. Society crumbled so quickly, so permanently. One day he was going to school, dreading the monotonous drag of the day to day. The next, he was running. From everything and nothing, from past, from present, from future, caught in a strange new land that lived in the carcass of his old life.

He was starting to wish it would end.

He was starting to wish he would end.

Yuuta rubbed his hands on his jeans to clean them. They were his only pair, the denim stiff with the salt of his sweat and the toil of his travels. His mother used to reinforce the knees with bits of jeans that no longer fit.

( ‘I know you’re grown,’ she said, needle in hand and love in her voice, ‘But let me dote on you a bit longer. While I still can.’)

The calluses on his palms caught against the perfect stitching she left behind.

“If you’re going to attack me, you might as well do it already.” Yuuta called into the darkness when waiting became too much.

Someone lurked just beyond eyesight. This wasn’t a trick of the eye. He could hear how they slogged through the underbrush, growing ever closer. In between bites of mangled protein bar - expired pieces that broke apart in his hands- he waited, twisting his ring with his thumb, turning it over and over and over again in preparation. He ran the pad of his finger over the gem in a silent prayer, like a rosary, calling for Rika instead of some god he was afraid to meet.

The night laughed back.

“Don’t worry.” the voice in the woods was frail enough from him to believe it. “I don’t have any fight left in me.”

You walked right out of the night and into his life with an upward tilted chin and a sad, lost smile. It was almost… apologetic, like you were embarrassed for intruding more than anything else. Holding yourself around your middle, fingers digging into your side as if you’d fall apart without them, you dipped into a polite bow. Even in the low light, your arms glistened, smeared with dark, dark, dark unmistakable liquid that oozed through your shirt.

If Yuuta was someone else - a smarter person- he would have attacked before you even made it this close. Chaos makes men go wild, injury makes them panic. A wounded dog bites to protect itself, kills as to not be killed.

You were a victim of this life too, he thought. No supplies. no weapons, you had clearly been robbed and attacked, then left for dead like a stray dog. Just like him, you were stuck in the games and bloodshed that the universe demanded.

What would the other do? Gojo? Nanami? Kusakabe?

“Just looking for a warm place to sit," you said, like it explained everything. Yuuta just waited, watching you with an unblinking stare. His elbows sat on his knees, ready to push his tired body up at any moment and defend- maybe even attack.

Kusakabe was driven by fear. He’d attack, wouldn’t have even given you a chance to get this close. He wouldn’t hesitate to gut a stranger, injured or not.

(Kusakabe had gotten into a fight he could have avoided, but never could have won.)

Nanami was more rational. He’d wait, maybe even show compassion if the moment was right.

(It’s important to remember, Yuuta thought, that bits of Nanami were currently rotting in the summer heat.)

Gojo… Gojo would be Gojo. Cocky, annoying, and yet a total wildcard.

(Gojo’s gone in every way that matters.)

"If this is some sort of feint, I'm not falling for it." he said, popping more food into his mouth. Mongooses, he once learned, never get full. It keeps them sharp, keeps them ready to fight. If your body aches for more, you’re more willing to fight, more desperate to win.

(He might be getting too hungry- his pants barely cling to his waist anymore.)

“Just need a rest.” you said, never pulling your eyes from the fire. They were glazed over, barely blinking, “A nice, warm, rest.”

You unceremoniously crumpled over yourself, folding at the waist as your knees buckled, your free arm barely extending in time to stop yourself from falling face first into the grass. Injury makes the body move in strange ways, Yuuta thought. Every movement of your body seems foreign to you.

Yuuta pinched what was left in the crinkled seams of his snack and licked the dust from his fingers. He searched for the sweetness in the final mouthful, but it tasted more like dirt and the strange, tangy residue of blood more than honey granola. The night crackles in the wind, the steady creak and cry of tree branches rubbing together echoing through the woods.

Hunger still crawls in his ribs.

“I could kill you, you know.” he said after a while. Time and loss bought him more confidence… sometimes too much. He felt it stretch inside of him, flexing unnecessarily.

His words weren't a threat.

Just a statement. He could kill you. He’s done it before. The knife on his belt weighed heavy on his mind.

Nodding in agreement, you peeled your arm from your side. The laugh rattled deep in your lungs, soft and wet, a horrifyingly familiar sound. The light of the fire caught your face, shadows stretching over your features and painted your eye bags darker, making your expression grave even as you smile. Melancholic, Yuuta decided grimly, you were melancholic and resigned. As he eyed the fabric of your shirt unhindered for the first time, he could see why; it was soaked through, mangled into strips of dark reds and blacks, dirt mashed into every wet crevice he could see.There was too much- too much to tell where the source is, too much to be healthy, too much for him to keep looking at.

“Do it.” you invited him into yourself like a welcome guest, “It’d make my night a little easier.”

In this world, sometimes death could be mercy. That's what Gojo taught him, all those months ago when a woman broke into their makeshift camp. The image of her face clung to the corners of his mind, peaceful in only the last seconds of her life.

(“You saved her a lot of heartache.” Gojo had reassured him. Even when their hands were cleaned, after hours of scrubbing his full body in a stream, Yuuta swore he could still feel the tacky leftovers of blood on his face. “It was either you or her- she’s probably a lot happier now.”)

Yuuta turned his ring again. He didn’t let himself think about the incident often- if he did, the violence might start to define him. He debated killing you for longer than he wanted to admit. Only for mercy. Only to end the suffering. Maybe harm had become an inherent part of his person.

(Yuuta buried the woman with his own two hands, digging in the hard, frozen dirt until his fingernails split, until he could blame the tears on the frostbite. )

The fire popped, heat flickered and Yuuta swore he can feel the warm splatter of blood on his cheek again.

The universe is cruel enough. He doesn't have to be.

Yuuta scrounged around his backpack, feeling blindly the bottom for his provisions. A single bar remained, crushed and beaten between his med kit and belongings. Hunger -strong, sharp, intense hunger- nips for his attention again.

“Here.” Yuuta tossed it high, watching it sail over the fire and onto your lap. You didn’t move to catch it, letting it sit on your leg.

“Food.” Yuuta prompted, almost like you were a dog. When you didn’t move, sitting there like a forgotten ragdoll, he realized it might be an empty attempt at kindness.

Food wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t soothe anything that mattered.

“Just don’t die here,” Yuuta said after a long while.

You stared back. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

A surrealness sat between you. He hadn’t talked to anyone for two weeks, not since Gojo took off.

(This time two, maybe three years ago he was camping with Rika, kissing off the marshmallow fluff that clung to the sides of her mouth. She tasted like chocolate and smoke, laughed like life was sweet and never ending. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear it, tinkling in the recesses of his mind.)

Back then, he was good. He was kind. He was nothing more than a child, burdened by nothing but the potential future.

When he opened his eyes again, you were staring back, chapped lips parted in a deep inhale. He was no longer a child, now dragging the weight of his sins and hoping they would drown him before any sort of future could come to fruition-

But he could still be kind. Truly, absolutely kind in the old definition.

Yuuta stood, dragging his pack along with him as he made his way to you. He wished his hands didn’t fly to his weapon when you flinched, but instinct and self preservation were too deeply ingrained into his mind to ignore. You looked up, eyebrows furrowed and a funny, off kilter smile on your face. There wasn’t any fear on your face, no feral edge even as you eyed the weapon dangling from his belt. Just another person.

"There's always a choice. You’re gonna see tomorrow." Yuuta pulled the med kit from his bag. The bits and pieces clanked around the nearly empty tin, warning him about what he was about to do. Yuuta moved too quickly to reevaluate; he snapped open the lid and pulled out the antiseptic, ignoring how light the bottle had become.

“You’re gonna see the morning. Take off your shirt,” he said, saddling up beside you. When he reached for you, you flinched, pulling back with sudden alertness. Fear flashed over your features for a moment, then a resigned acceptance.

“Wow, buy a girl a drink first,” you said, the humor in your voice a shield. If he moved too quickly, your arm would recoil up over the injury, protecting yourself. Like a deer, spooked by the slightest of movements, you watched him with wide eyes, ready to flee or fight solely on instinct.

(The woman didn’t flinch when the blade caught her. She kept pushing forward, those fingers like claws around his neck-)

“You know, you’re funny for someone who’s bleeding out.” Yuuta interlaced his fingers with yours, the rough of your skinned knuckle pressed into his palm. “Do it with me.”

Neither of you were animals. You were people. You were human.

Together, you peeled the fabric from the skin, rolling it back until the wound stared back, shining and fresh. The touch of another human was foreign, the feel of skin - living, breathing, writhing- under his touch made his heart skip a beat.

When was the last time he touched another person?

(Living person. He can't count lifting that woman into her final resting place when her skin was so cold, so ridgid. He had seen death before, but never held it in his hands, never carried it’s weight.)

He never touched Gojo, definitely not Nanami…. It hit him that it's been months- maybe a year at this point. The last time he could recall was… the kitchen table, when his mother pinched his cheek before returning to her needlepoint.

Yuuta squeezed your hand tighter, faintly in shock as you both traced up your stomach and ribs. There’s no edge of sexual desire to it, just genuine appreciation at the comfort touching someone brings-

Until his fingers hit the gouge. It was long and impossibly straight, following along the curve of your ribs, stretching with each labored breath, the all encompassing smear of blood ever growing. Even face to face, he couldn’t tell the extent of the damage in the low light until he prodded and his fingers slipped inside.

You didn’t flinch, but drunk in the pain almost happily.

“This is fixable.” he mumbled, convincing neither him nor you, “We can stitch this up- you’re fixable.”

You hummed in agreement, head slipping forward, tilting down against your will. The edges of your mouth no longer pulled up.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep yet.” Yuuta nudged you by the shoulder, trying to hide his worry. The antiseptic dripped from the bottle and the once clear liquid ran pink, heavy with clotting and dirt. The smell of alcohol overpowered the woodsmoke and yet it didn’t feel like enough.

“It’s okay. I’m going to die anyway,” you said, as if sensing his worry. It reminded Yuuta of a book they read in school. Shakespeare’s Hamlet, with Ophelia welcoming the end with open arms. You were just like her, incapable of your own distress. “You’re wasting your time.”

("You’re wasting your time." Gojo had said as he watched Yuuta gather river stones from the snow capped bank. "No one’s ever gonna visit the grave anyway.")

“No, I’m not,” Yuuta whispered, “You have people who love you, who wanna see you again.”

You shook your head in a solemn no.

“Then pretend I love you,” he said, “I wanna see you again, ok? I want to see you in the morning.”

Your hand squeezed over his. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Yuuta sewed the wound with a needle and fishing line, leaving a jagged line that pulled much too tight in some places. Sterility was a lost cause- the needle slipped from his wet fingers over and over again, falling into the grass over and over again. Your body jolted with every prick, unable to stay still as time dragged on and on. By the time he had knotted the end, the fire had burnt to near embers, begging to be fed. It was nothing like the work he had seen on TV, but it seemed to slow the bleed enough to plaster it with his remaining bandages-- and that’s all Yuuta could ask for. He severed the line with the knife that was once buried in the woman and the steel tasted blood once again.

He thought of that woman with every breath, how he placed the river smoothed stones on top of her grave, how he checked her wallet for an ID, just so he could remember her with a name.

(There was nothing in her pockets.)

“Do you have a name?” Yuuta let himself crumble into you once he was done, head tucked into your shoulder. Anxiety ached in between his ribs and pressure pounded between his eyes: a sign of his body demanding food, water, sleep, relaxation, or something else he couldn't supply.

The silence stretched much too long, consumed by the drone of cicadas. The empty bottle rolled in the wind, the fire whispered as it approached slumber, but you stayed silent, dreadfully, painfully silent. Despair tasted like bile and felt like pricked fingers. Maybe the old world’s kindness really was a waste, maybe he could have spared you suffering with a swift death, maybe he had used his only medical supplies in vain--

Instead of praying for the things he needs, he prayed to see you in the morning.

“My husband called me darling.” the warble in your lungs only sounded worse, but the fact you were even responding made him want to cheer, “Since we’re in love and all… call me darling.”

For the first time in what felt like years, Yuuta laughed. It was deep, from the pit of his belly, the kind of laugh that ached in between his ribs. He couldn’t tell if it was from relief or sheer amusement.

He had a hunch if there was more time, he might actually love you one day.

“Okay, darling.” he said, “I’m Yuuta.”

“No,” you smiled one last time, “You’re also darling.”

The night passed slowly, measured only in intertwined breaths, long and deep. Eventually, the rhythm lulled Yuuta to a restless sleep, still draped over your form. The desire to be touched overwrote the awkwardness and worry, made him forget all else for a couple of moments until unconsciousness overtook him.

"Good morning, darling." he whispered, "Good, good morning."

When he awoke, you were cold. Morning dew clung to your eyelashes, thickening with the condensation from every breath, glimmering with the morning light. The scent of iron still clung to the air, coagulated blood just beginning to dry on your skin and his. Underneath his stiff hands, arthritic from hard living, your chest expands in short, sweet breaths.

The back of his mind wanted to keep him on edge, remind him of disease and illness, remind him that death could overcome you on any day, that the fight was long from over, but Yuuta refused to feel anything other than joy. First light was the first victory.

…..

He loves you in the peace times, as the world rebuilds.

Downstairs, in the half-fixed kitchen, the murmurs of Itadori's voice mixes with the crackle of fat in a hot cast iron. When Yuuta closes his eyes, he can picture the scene: Itadori trying to pluck the pork belly from the stove top with his bare hands and scorching the tips of his fingers once again. Toge is probably laughing- no, definitely laughing; he can hear the rumble of it through the floorboards- while pretending to supervise. He always perches himself on the counter, right next to the stove, so he can lean over and read Itadori's lips as he talks. Sometimes Toge signs so wildly that they all worry he'll catch his sleeves on the open flame.

Even with a pillow, stuffed with hand picked down, he still sleeps restlessly. He probably always will. The arm he drapes over you is tight, like he'd fall apart without you.

Later, Yuuta might admonish them for wasting meat for the third day in a row, but now he relishes the smell- warm. salty. comforting. It fills the house and overpowers the tang of mildew that clings to the air.

(When he met them both, there was fire. All consuming, it ate the edges of what used to be a pharmacy. The two of you had risked a lot to travel into town in search of antibiotics- later, he found out the same was true for the two strangers. The four of you stood and watched in horror as hope burned, a silent question hanging over all of you-- What now?)

Without either of them, this old farmhouse would still be bones. Itadori found the place sitting in a valley of fruit trees. Toge patched the roof while you began patching the windows, preparing for the upcoming winter.

Yuuta tilled the fields with his bare hands, the dark, fertile, soft soil staining his skin and nail beds.

(He only thought about the woman he buried once, when he found a soft, weathered stone in the ground. )

(This morning, the same stone sits on the nightstand. )

Yuuta pulls you closer and buries his nose into the nape of your neck, his hand finding the weal of scarring on your side. Holding it has become second nature: pressure for the nights when it reopened, protection to keep you from turning in your sleep.

The spot itself is still inflamed and puffy, with bits of fishing line forever trapped inside, but it's whole. That’s all he can ask for. It held you together for him. It held you together with him.

Your breathing shifts and Yuuta knows you’re awake; he presses open mouth kisses against your skin. You move without looking, reaching behind you to tangle fingers in his shaggy, black hair and pull him closer, dragging him until his face finds yours. The first kiss is a chaste hello, nothing more but a fleeting thing, but you dip back in for a second, then a third. He knows his breath must taste like sleep and yet you pull him time and time again, like drinking him in is the most important thing in the world.

With his eyes still closed, he still can find his favorite spots of you: the fat of your chest, the curve of your hip, the hem of your panties. He’s mapped and explored every inch of your body countless times and yet he itches to travel again. You must feel the same; your nails gently brush over his jaw, his collarbone, his hipbone, traveling down to the elastic hem of his pants. It’s genuine appreciation at the comfort touching someone brings, innocent and fleeting, but it grows, each kiss begetting another until each touch burns.

No words are exchanged- you both come together together silently. As he peels your underwear to the side, you shimmy his pants down just far enough for his half hard cock to fall free and glaze your asscheek with precum. The heat of your pussy alone makes his hips stutter against you. The thin walls and floors give way to most sounds, so he keeps his sounds as quiet as he can, speaking only in needy, keening breaths meant for you and you alone.

Your real name is reserved for whispers across your skin when the two of you are alone. He anoints you with it like holy oil, bathes you in loving praise.

You whisper his name back as he enters you, filling you completely and fully.

There’s no rush to the roll of his hips or the press of his fingers, no push to finish anytime soon. Sex is nothing more than existing in the present as he loves you properly. If he could, this would last forever and the outside world would pause until it crumbled once again-

Of course, the moment never stays. Your body stretches as you cum, partially trying to shake off the lull of sleep. The side with the scar doesn't bend quite the same. He follows suit, carefully pulling from your warmth and ruining the sheets below.

(‘What happens if you guys accidentally- ya know?’ Itadori gestured to his stomach as if holding a watermelon there, cradling something imaginary. The response at the time had been embarrassment and fear, but now, sometimes Yuuta longs for the possibility-- looks forward to the future where it happens.)

(That was the best part of all this. Finding things to look forward to again instead of always thinking back.)

As you both bask in each other, there's a knock at the door and you both quickly scramble to cover yourselves with the thin sheet.

Toge cracks the door, hand jokingly over his eyes with splayed fingers, blocking nothing. Then, he brings his hands to his chest, dragging the middle fingers down with a flick, as if brushing off his clothes. With an accusatory point, he sticks out his tongue and silently gags in an over top display of disgust.

"Relax, we aren't naked," Yuuta half lies with his pants around his knees and your nipples visible through the sheet. Sex tussled hair suits you.

Toge makes v-shapes with his hands and taps them together wildly before pointing again, a shit-eating grin smeared across his face.

You gasp, mostly mockingly. "We were not fucking!"

He nods with a roll of his eyes and a shit-eating grin. Yeah, sure. He taps all the fingers of his dominant hand against his lips twice -the sign for food- before closing the door. You both wait until you hear him hit the bottom step, the rotten one that whines under weight, before relaxing.

"I’m just glad he wasn’t a couple minutes earlier.” you say as you scuttle out from Yuuta’s grasp. The morning light peeks through the slats of wood, painting half of his face with light as he cranes to follow. When you look back at him, the split of a smile across your face, Yuuta thinks this is how it must feel to be chosen by God, to bathe in something divine.

“Good morning, darling.” your words are holy with the weight they hold. Love unsaid hangs in the air.

“Good, good morning, darling.” Yuuta says.

As you journey around the room, pulling on the cleanest bits of clothing you can find, you hum your morning song. It’s something your husband used to sing each morning, a song Yuuta only knows through your memories, and yet he sings along under his breath. When he joins in, you laugh, head thrown back with sheer joy. Yuuta takes the moment to admire you, in all your glory, in all your flaws, in all your humanity. The world outside these doors isn’t perfect. It’ll probably never return to where it was, but within these walls he has found sanctuary.

Not just in your hands. In this whole… commune, for lack of a better term. The four of you have stability, have a makeshift family that you all carved into the bones of this home. Chance was the thread that stitched you all together, but love is the hand that pulls it taut.

Sometimes, it feels like he’s always loved you.

"When do you think it stopped being pretend?" Yuuta asks.

"What?"

"Loving each other." he clarifies. Yuuta clutches the chain around his neck without thinking. Your engagement ring, the one your husband gave you all those years ago, hangs around it, sitting low enough that sometimes it presses into his clavicle. It has lost its diamond, but it glitters all the same. "When did it stop being pretend?"

You pull on a shirt that was once his. "Was it ever really?"

The gold is warm against the calluses on his palm. He twists it over and over again to feel it catch against the silver links. Tick. Tick. Tick. He counts them endlessly to his own comfort, like a nun over her rosary. “I mean, of course it was.”

“Maybe it wasn’t full-on love, but I had a hunch.” you pause to consider, pursing your lips in thought, "Maybe you just loved me like a stranger then. You love me like a wife now.”

When you dip to grab your pants from the floor, your own necklace falls from your shirt. The familiar green gem glints in the sunlight and, for the first time in a long time, Yuuta thinks of Rika.

“I don’t think love ever dies or is born,” you say, “It just changes shape or redirects.”

He used to think you have pieces of Rika in you. Now, the paradigm has shifted, time has passed, and she has pieces of you. He can’t imagine her voice anymore in the same way he can’t picture his mother’s face.

"Come on-" Itadori's voice bounces off the empty stairwell, "We're waiting!"

Toge claps in agreement.

He used to hold the past too tightly, in hopes it never slips away, but letting go has brought him here. Moving forward isn’t forgetting. Loving again isn’t the death of first love.

"They're waiting, slow poke. Time to get going." you say, standing at the door.

Yuuta lets himself move on with the day. He gets up and pulls on his pants, the reinforced fabric tight against his knees both a reminder of what he’s lost and what he’s gained. When you open the door and morning’s first light pours in, he can make out uneven stitching around the elbow of your shirt. Silvery white thread that he unraveled from his own clothing scraps, sewn by candlelight solely to dote on you, catches the sunlight.

Love doesn’t die, it just changes shape. His mom lives on in his needle pricked fingers, just as your husband lives on in broken choruses.

(Inumaki's brother is in the sign language flourishes that only the five of you understand. Itadori's grandfather died before the fall and yet he joins you all at family breakfasts.)

“What’s with that face?” you ask from over your shoulder, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Nothing,” Yuuta says, “Just in love, I guess.”

#yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkostsu x yeader #yuta okkotsu #okkostu yuuta #jujutsu kaisen smut #yuuta x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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dolls-self-ships · 4 months

Text

Two Birds One Storm

heyyyy this is my first fic in a while also it’s not finished yet this is only part one so it’s a quick read if you’re interested! <3 inspired by this prompt by otp-fanfic-ideas

“Oh my, would you look at that?”

Mac raised her head with a slight curious hum in her throat at the sound of her voice, she looked over to see her .. em.. friend, sitting by the window of her hut, which was being rapidly spotted with heavy raindrops, making an aggressive tap.. tap tap.. tap.. tap tap sound on the glass.

Mac felt startled, she could have sworn she calculated this weeks weather to a T, and all accounts showed nothing but sunshine, but sometimes Mother Nature had a way of being particularly unpredictable. Either that or she had miscalculated, but Mac would rather believe the first thing than the second one.

“Why, it’s just raining cats and dogs” Daphne tsked, still observing the grey sky and the cloudy mist that now covered the island.

“Oh aye” Mac agreed as she joined Daphne at the window, looking up to study the clouds herself. “And that great big one looks like a cumulonimbus. An et looks like there’s more rolling in fast as et is.”

Daphne looked at her, a little confused at first but trying her best to remember what kind of cloud that was. She had been getting used to Mac’s way of putting things into very technical terms, on top of her thick Scottish accent- of which both she found endlessly charming- and she would hate to make Mac repeat herself, as she often had to.

After a couple seconds, Daphne was almost certain she remembered. “That means uh.. thunder right?”

Mac smiled at her, and nodded in approval. She gave a little "mhm!" as in 'that's correct!'.

"I must say hen, you're catchin' on faster than Mr. Rhodes ever did. Yer a fast learner!" Mac praised her with an approving grin and a wink. Daphne felt a small sense of pride swell inside of her when Mac said that, partially because she liked the feeling of being better than Rocky at something, but also because she liked that Mac felt understood by her.

“Maybe because we spend so much time together" she giggled.

Mac felt a little bit of a rush from that, a warmth filled her cheeks as she nodded. "Aye, that too." She looked back out the window,

After a few moments of staring out into the rain, it slowly began to dawn on Daphne that her hut was all the way on the other side of town, and getting there would be like hell in just the rain alone, let along when the storm starts picking up. She gently cleared her throat and stammered "W-well, I-I should probably start headin' out now"

Mac was shocked, what on earth was she saying? She couldn't go out in this weather. "What? Now? I donnae think that's such a good idea, lass."

Daphne sighed "If I don't get goin' now I'm not gonna make it home" she said, shaking her head, "and I would hate to be a bother to you"

The rain started to pick up more, followed by a loud crash that startled the two. Both their heads turned quickly back to the window, and their eyes slowly travled upwards to see clusters of rain clouds, more and more packing in as if they all had a personal vendetta against this one specific chicken-housing island. They could see tiny flashes of light coming from between the cracks of plush looking grey forms in the sky, but it wasn't sunshine like one would hope, the flashes were erratic and white, the lightning had already begun to start up.

"Hen, I cannae let you go out in that, ye could ge'y knocked over by de wind, lost in all de fog, shrivel up like a wee raisin from all the rain, catch hypothermia-"

Daphne watched as Mac counted on her fingers all the possibilities she could face if she went outside at this time, in an effort to get her to stop, she placed her wings overtop of hers.

"Alright, alright, I get it, I just.." She paused, shifting in her seat and taking a breath “I just don’t wanna impose, that’s all”

Mac shook her head. “Even if that was, hen, there’s no wey that wee half-built bit wuld keep you warm enough in this.”

Daphne hummed, looking back outside as she saw the first bolt of lightening hit the water around the island. She wasn’t able to get out a response in time as Mac has already gotten up from her seat.

“Sit tight while I put de kettle on.”

As Mac left to the kitchen to get started, Daphne watched her with guilty eyes. She didn't know what it was, but everytime she was being waited on by someone, it always felt off. Wrong somehow. She hated making people go out of their way for her, she didn't like the feeling that she was causing trouble or making someone get up, even when it was a simple of a task as brewing tea. So, she quickly got up from her seat.

"Wait" She followed after her, Mac turned over her shoulder from where she stood, already at the counter with the kettle going, which had already begun to make its low steaming sound, a high pitched, barely audible 'phhhwwwwtttt' sound. Daphne came up beside her and plucked two tea bags from the little display Mac had placed on the kitchen top. Peppermint- Mac's favourite. "I'll get these for ya"

Mac smiled, holding out her hand to grab the two little bags. "Thanks hen" she said, reaching for them a bit further than she intended, and accidentally brushing her hand over Daphne fingertips.

phhhwwttt

Mac jolted, a gasp hitched in her throat. Her teeth clenched as she flinched her hand away, feeling that familiar warmth in her cheeks again. Her eyes flickered between her recoiled hand and Daphne’s face, hoping that she could read her expression just enough to predict what was going through her mind at that moment.

Ppppphhhwhwwttttt

Daphne wasn't all that suave either, she didn’t say a word, but her eyes spoke volumes. They wouldn't leave the spot on her hand that Mac accidentally touched, it was like she could still feel a ghost of what the sensation was like to have her feathertips brush hers. It was still warm. Still comfortable.

PPPPPHHHHWWWTTTTTTT

Her eyes darted back up to the maroon combed hen, who then turned away from her shyly and said in an awkward tone and held out her hand, palm up, instead for Daphne to place the bags in.

"Ah... sorry"

It was up until then that Daphne had completely forgotten about the tea.

“It’s alright…”

click

The water was ready.

#don’t feel pressured to read this lol I barely even read other peoples fics bc I’m lazy (I’m sorry)#I’m mostly just posting this for fun #even if ya just throw it a like I’ll appreciate it #self shipping #self ship #self ship community #self ships #self insert #self ship fanfiction #self insert fanfiction #self insert fic #chicken run #aardman #mac #lovebirds ♥️🐔

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hungriestheidi · 10 months

Note

9, 11, 13 or 23 for oscarmark or lando/jenson 🫶😙

i blame you and our lengthy oscarmark conversations for whatever the hell i just wrote, muak tkm (used everything minus 9 i think idk)

The collusion of the blinding lights and a flight ungodly long makes him want to crawl into a cave and never come out.

The airport is too bright, too big, too noisy. Oscar is in Melbourne to rest, to meet back with his family, with his friends. But he’s in a frenzy of people, caught between people with phones in hand asking for a selfie, who don’t deserve to be treated meanly just because he had a shitty day, and the regular crowd waltzing in and out of planes like ants walking in and out of their colony.

He meets Mark right outside of the airport, his black car parked in the shade. It’s a cold winter in Australia, not that unusual but Oscar preferred it to be a bit less busy. He wanted Mark to pick him up because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle his family fussing over him first thing out of the plane. He’ll text his sisters later, now he just calls his mom.

“Are you ok, Osc?” She asks, first thing she tells him after he explains he landed safely.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He tells her, shrugging even when she can’t see. “I’m going to Mark’s house”

His mother hums. “Tell him to take good care of you.”

“I will.”

“How’s the boss?” Mark asks, his eyes on the road. The city is busy, the sky is clear.

“Good, she says you have to take good care of me,” he tells him, giving him a cheeky grin. “Oh, she doesn’t need to say that twice” Mark lets out a bark of a laugh. ”You are so in for it when we get home,” he says with a smile carrying the words across the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seat. His hand squeezes Oscar’s thigh, grip vice tight and a bit mean, a bit like power, a bit like love. Oscar blushes, casts his eyes away from the road, to the sun shining bright and then lets the world melt into nothingness as the house nears.

Suburbia is often quiet, or at least quieter than the city, the big buildings and the mean noises of crowded streets. Suburbia sounds a bit like Troye Sivan’s Blue Neighbourhood, like old indie songs his sister used to listen to in the CD player their father gave her because she likes vintage stuff.

Mark’s suburbia paradise has got tall fencing and a nice yard and Oscar watches through half open windows the leaves of the evergreen trees at the back of the property, the deep shadows they cast. Saxon runs upstairs when he turns back but Sammy stays still on the couch, curled up like a kitten. Mark’s dogs have always been a bit too hyperactive, but Sammy likes Oscar too much to run away when he’s near. He likes Sammy too.

Oscar’s head is a bit weird, not physically really, but something inside feels like cotton, like his brain has been wrapped in silk or tulle, something soft and easy to get lost in. He drank chocolate milk and ate tim tams, recreated a childhood afternoon down to eating in front of the tv watching old tv shows. Mark had put in him the peace of quiet days with just a silly little routine.

Now he’s staying put, quiet and nice, on his knees at the edge of the couch, hands on his thighs. It’s a bit cold to be wearing just underwear, but the big loose hoodie makes up for it, just a bit. It swallows his arms down to his fingers, the tips of them peeking under the hems, it’s cozy and soft, does nothing to take his mind away from the tender warmth crawling inside his mind.

But it’s good, the feeling of floating in a bubble in a safe and quiet space, only the faintest sound of music coming from another room, like being a child and falling asleep in a couch after a party, hearing your parents’ voices asking if they should carry you to your bedroom and let you stay here a bit longer.

Mark walks into the room just as Oscar looks back at the wall, the pale blue wallpaper looks to be patterned with the faintest of light blue flowers. The place is warm, his legs are a bit numb, Mark’s fingers thread through his hair and Oscar looks up.

“Be a good boy for daddy,” he says, holding a coffee on his other hand, watching him with a gentle smile on his lips. He looks beautiful, in a button up shirt and dress pants. He dressed up for him, Oscar knows it, knows that Mark knows he loves it when he goes the extra mile, makes him feel like nothing that happened outside this house matters, just them, their quiet afternoons and stick-together nights.

Tomorrow he’ll think about his mother and his sisters, about training and eating meals approved by his dietician. For now, he is Mark’s good boy and he nods and preens when Mark kisses his forehead, comes crawling when Mark beckons him closer, sitting on the couch with his legs parted, rests his cheek on Mark’s thigh and watches him change the channel on the tv and mess with Oscar’s hair for half an hour or two.

#myfic #oscarmark #fic asks #nsf/w #nsfr #it's a bit domsubbish so if you all don't vibe with that just keep scrolling #mi jente latino

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

Text

Someone like you

Tommy Shelby one shot

Master list

I wrote this for @zablife 1K followers celebration congratulations dear Lee, for this accomplishment, each one of the beautiful pieces of art you write are incredible, there’s always a surprise you add that makes each story take an unexpected turn 🥰 so this is a bit darker than my usual writing in honor of the amazing twists you usually have in your stories💖

Also there was a post Lily made a while ago that I thought fit so well about Tommy and his relationship with his mother, but I couldn’t find it anymore… @springsteens

⚠️ Grief, reincarnation theme. Minors DNI.

I’ve always loved the idea of Tommy and his mum, there were a lot of things unsaid between them, he missed her a lot and called her during difficult times during the series.

Prompt: 14.) “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.”

Another sleepless night outside wasn’t something new for him. He had been going on like this for 157 nights since his wife passed away. But this time instead of staying by the fire, he started wandering further. With his mind full of the things that usually kept him busy, he didn’t even notice how far he had been riding until he reached the river. The sun was about to go up, so he decided to give his horse a break and let him rest for a while. Midnight was probably the only one who could understand his loneliness, horses aren’t so different to humans, their feelings are right there, you can see it in their eyes, so transparent.

As he was about to lit a cigarette, his eyes focused on something moving by the river, a figure he couldn’t place from the distance and the lack of light. Pulling out his gun, Tommy moved back the lock, ready to fire at any second, moving without making a sound like he learned the hard way back in France, all of his senses on alert.

Now that he was closer, he was able to see the delicate female figure before him, naked. His eyes roamed all over her body as she was cleaning her legs, gold bracelets moving up and down her left wrist as she moved her hands. Her ass sticking out in her bending position, he couldn't really see much, but his mouth went dry as he removed his peak cap from his head.

The woman then walked to the horse resting next to a tree, closer to him, he totally forgot to try to hide behind the bushes, he was completely drown to her, as if she had put a spell on him.

The horse covering her now, as the stranger flicked her dark locks back and it happened in a slow motion for him, as her curls bounced back away from her features, and he was able to see her face, he felt his blood running down from his body, dizziness swept over him.

It was as if he was watching his mother all over again; green wild eyes flashing at him, thick lashes, full lips, sharp cheekbones and a smile that had the power to have you on your fucking knees in a matter of seconds.

She wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that he had been watching her taking a bath in the river.

But the view didn’t last long, as she climbed on her white horse, still naked and started riding bareback away, in the distance, Tommy saw her covering her naked form as the horse slowed down, he was lost in thoughts but he could swear he also saw the woman looking over her shoulder back at him.

That morning he returned home with more than just his wife’s ghost in mind.

***

He knew most of the gypsies around, but he had never seen that woman.

The rest of the day, he couldn’t get her off his mind, her eyes were hunting him, every time he closed his eyes, he could see her again washing her body, her hands running up and down her legs.

“Johnny! Get the wagon ready.”

“Where are we up to, Tom?” Johnny asked, hands in hips and an insufferable smile on his face. “Eh?”

“Doesn’t matter Johnny.”

Maybe it was the opium, or the loneliness, he didn’t know anymore.

“Tommy you can’t keep going on like this.” Polly walked in as she heard the instructions her nephew just gave Johnny Dogs.

Hands lessening against his desk, head hanging down. If he was this quiet, then something must be wrong, she thought.

“I saw her... Pol.”

As Tommy looked at his aunt, she wasn’t able to name what she found in his eyes. Was it hurt? Pain? Regret?

“You need to let Grace rest in pea-”

“No, not Grace.” Tommy interrupter her, trying to put it into words. “I saw my Mum, but it wasn’t her.” It didn’t make sense now that he said it out loud.

A shiver ran down her spine, there was no reason for Tommy to lie about something like that. A gasp escaped her lips, and her right hand flew to the black Madonna around her neck.

Martha was back because she left a lot of things unfinished, she wouldn’t be able to rest until she was done, her spirit needed to come back in order to complete her purpose, she needed to pay for taking her own life at the canal all those years ago.

“She found you.” Was all she could come up with.

Tommy swallowed hard, he had a lot of things going on, things he couldn't put into words. Emotions right at the surface. Feelings he didn’t know how to deal with.

Then he remembered the old saying his mum used to say with the new season.

“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” He murmured, closing his eyes.

Polly knew how Tommy’s mind worked, sometimes it was almost as if they were one mind divided in two bodies, sometimes they didn’t even need to say the words to know what the other one was thinking. This, was one of those moments.

“The caravan is ready, Tom.” Johnny informed him.

Without another word, he followed Johnny outside, still feeling uneasy of the physical resemblance between that woman and his mother.

Johnny asked a million questions, questions to which Tommy had no answers, luckily after a while, he decided to keep riding the caravan in silence.

What if his mother found a way back to him?

During the night, it was Tommy in charge of the riding, from the spot they were in the mountain, he could already see the gypsy camp.

But it was empty, only a couple of dogs and horses around the wagons.

“What happened?” Tommy’s eyes scanning the place, looking for a sign of where she might be.

“They’re at the fair.”

Tommy almost broke his neck from the hard snap he did to look at Johnny, his eyes close of popping out.

“Why did you wait until now to fucking tell me that?”

“Because you never asked me, Tom... how was supposed to know?”

Rolling his eyes and mentally counting to ten, he tried not to lose his temper; “just take me to the fucking fair.”

The daylight would be gone soon, in the distance, he could hear the noise coming from the fair, the coloured tents held the tradition carried by generation of gypsies, it had been years since he went to one.

Flags and ribbons with eye catching colors hang from one place to another, some gypsies offered food, live music, magic tricks, jewelry, handmade carpets, telling fortunes, reading hands, among other things.

“What are you looking for Tom?” Johnny asked, always impatient, always curious.

“Something, you wouldn’t understand.” He could feel his stomach in a tight knot.

“Yeah, of course... that’s nice, if you could share a bit more of this someth-”

Taking some money from his pocket, he handed it to Johnny. “Get a whore and stop bothering me.” Finally, he was quiet, allowing Tommy to move around.

He found some familiar faces, but not the only one he was looking for.

“Can I read your hand?” Offered a gypsy he was passing by.

“Another time.” He winked at her, his guard on alert as he saw her eyes moving close to his arm.

Turning his head around, he moved his arm quickly, just in time to catch the thief.

“Give my watch back, or you don’t get to see the stars tonight.”

But as the thief tried to break free from his hand, he found the face he was looking for.

Eyes locked in hers, finding a bit of himself in those deep emeralds green enough to make anyone jealous.

His mind went blank, unable to form any coherent thought.

“Leave the girl alone.” A firm voice called behind him, then a crooked hand put a tight grip on his arm.

Turning around, Tommy found Madame Boswell.

“She stole my watch.”

The gypsy took a deep breath, but kept her eyes on him. She only said things once.

“Please forgive me Madame.” The girl looked down, embarrassed.

Tommy helped her up, his hand on hers in a very gently touch.

“A gypsy never steals from a gypsy.” Madame Boswell shook her head.

The girl looked surprised at the man who was still holding her arm.

“I grew up in a caravan too.” Tommy explained in a kind voice.

Her eyes were fixed on his gold tooth.

“Can we have a word, please?”

Madame Boswell nodded and motioned Tommy to follow her.

A small hand offered his pocket watch back.

“Keep it love, if you ever get in trouble, just say the name on the back.”

Thick eyelashes hid her beautiful eyes as she turned the gold watch around. Tommy was fighting back the urge to hug her.

“Is she under your protection?”

“Why do you ask?” Madame Boswell studied him.

Tommy answered with another question. “Who is she?”

“Y/N appeared walking down the rainfall, where the river starts, she couldn’t remember her name or where she came from. She’s one of us now.”

Tommy’s breath got caught up in his throat, his chest with a strange tightening.

“Allow me to take care of her, I can give her things she will never have here.”

“No.” Madame Boswell’s lips were sealed in a tight line.

He knew what moved the woman.

“Let me protect her.” He pleaded again, placing in front of the gypsy a velvet sack filled with gold coins this time.

Her eyes finally sparkled, the hint of a smile showing up.

“She’s a wild thing you wouldn’t understand.”

“I will manage.” Tommy nodded his head and stepped out of the caravan.

Madame Boswell explained to Y/N that the Shelby family would take care of her from now, but she could still visit the vardo any time she wanted. She was wearing a beautiful dress in earth tones with embroidered flowers and beads.

Tommy waited a couple of steps away with his hands in his pockets, questioning himself if this was the right thing to do or not. But as he saw the girl running towards him, he couldn’t manage the way his heart started beating like a galloping horse.

When she wrapped her arms around him, he couldn’t even begin to understand the familiarity in her embrace, the way her body could fit his so well, the warmth he had been missing for so long.

“Mi-e dor de tine.” He couldn’t help himself or stop the words before they left his mouth. He truly missed her, every day of his life.

With a smile, she caressed his face just like his mother did when he was just a kid and then walked towards the white horse.

“Angel.” She added caressing the animal’s neck in a sweet voice while Tommy froze.

“What did you say?”

“His name is Angel.” The horse started to neigh. But before Tommy could say anything, Johnny Dogs started to curse behind him.

“How-?”

“Take the horse and be quiet.” Tommy warned him raising his eyebrows, Johnny was pale and speechless, which coming from him, was a lot.

Looking at the woman sleeping in his caravan, Tommy couldn't help but remember the way his mother used to make him clothes out of his father old clothes; worn out shirts and pants, yet she managed to make it look as if it was new. He used to wear the shoes that Arthur outgrew and he would pass his own to John as well.

Y/N’s features reminded him of the time when he found his mother sewing in the couch.

As he came from his room, Tommy found his mum was sound asleep, she just had Ada a couple of weeks ago and she didn’t own any clothes for a girl, so out of an old blouse, she was making a small dress for his sister, who was wriggling in the basket next to his mother, with her big blue eyes, he knew Ada would be a copy of his mother and himself.

Taking off his coat, he covered his mum’s body and moved back the curls from her face, then he took the baby in his arms and started to rock her little body whispering a romani song.

But his little bubble of peace ended when his drunk, lousy father smashed the door against the wall and Ada’s cries woke up his mother.

Blinking away the memories, he repeated the scene with the woman in front of him, covering with his coat; Y/N’s lips were parted, her features almost angelic, her rhythmic breathing making himself question a million things.

If his mother had this opportunity to reincarnate, he would do absolutely anything in his power to help her soul find the peace that she needed.

After several hours riding, they made it to Arrow house, trying to be gentle with her, Tommy caressed gently her shoulder. “Y/N, wake up, we arrived.”

Johnny looked over his shoulder, still in a shocked state to even say or ask anything.

“Mhhmm?”

“Home.” Tommy explained with a smile.

Smoothing her skirt, Y/N then adjusted the scarf over her head.

“Nais” She smiled at him. What was about him that it made her feel safe?

“Nais tuke.” He answered to thank her back.

But he wasn’t expecting all his family would be waiting for them, Polly must’ve spread the word.

Curious looks welcomed him as he came down from the caravan, handling Angel to Curly.

As he offered a hand to Y/N to help her step down from the caravan, gasps were heard and surprise was evident in their faces, only a few photographs of Martha were available, but they all knew what she looked like. Polly clasped a hand over her mouth, while Arthur stared to move his arms over his head, John blinked a couple of times as Ada couldn’t hold back the tears. Finn couldn't think of anything because he really didn't remember his mother.

“Please step away, Y/N needs to rest.” Tommy tried to protect her, adjusting the coat over her shoulders.

“My God it’s her.” Someone whispered.

“I'll make some tea.” Polly offered too shocked to process anything.

“Frances, please make sure one of the rooms is available.” Tommy asked the maid, trying to walk between the human hall by the door.

“It’s a beautiful horse.” He heard his uncle talking behind his back.

As Y/N turned her head around, uncle Charlie went pale as a sheet and John had to hold him.

He wasn’t expecting a younger version of Martha showing up like that.

“You can meet everyone later, let me show you your room, hey.” Tommy wanted to say mum, but he cut himself up.

As Charlie crawled from the drawing room, he looked up and extending his arms to the stranger, he called; “Granny!”

***

A/N: I got carried away and when I looked at the word count I doubled your limit Lee, sorry!

🔮 Reincarnation is something gypsies believe in, I just learned that, and well, they say we all have a double somewhere… remember your comments make my day, my week, my year… 🥰♥️

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @gretelshelby @cloudofdisney @onlydeadcells @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @heidimoreton @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @strayrockette @stevie75 @the-forest-witchh @forgottenpeakywriter @lespendy @moral-terpitude @esposadomd @shelbydelrey

If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know 🥰

Edit: according to google, the translations are:

Mi-e dor de tine- The equivalent to I miss you

Nais- Thank you

#That’s what Cill said #zablife1k #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fan fiction #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #cillian Murphy imagine

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metalheadcowboy · 8 months

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Turning a Harringrove Cowboy/Farm AU I wrote A LONGGGG time ago into an actual multi part/chapter fic, so here's the first part, enjoy!

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

It was the spring of '84 when Steve Harrington first decided he hated Billy Hargrove with every damn bone in his body.

The beginning of that spring had been particularly rough in many ways.

Steve's second senior year of high school was going quite a ways away from great, it seemed like no matter what his old man was pissed off about something or another, the calving season had only just started and it was going straight to shit. Oh, and on top of that, it was hotter than a witches tit outside, a record high in southern Indiana that year, great.

"Gah lee," Steve huffed as he fell flat on his rear, wiping the sweat off his forehead, with the part of his arm that wasn't covered in cow crap and god knows what, "That 'as one big son 've a bitch." The force of his collapse knocked his Stetson hat clean off, but he was quick to recover the rather expensive item he’d received for Christmas not too long ago.

He slowly collected himself, pushing the medium tan leather down upon his dark, messy waves. He couldn’t help but blink his eyes a few times as he practically panted like a dog to will any form of cold into his body, "Yeah, 'll least this one's livin'," his dad remarked, and he couldn't disagree with that. Seemed like they'd had more still born calves than live ones this season.

" 'Ts only March, we've got a few months," The teen reminded, manifesting at least a shred of hope for the coming weeks. It wasn't that they didn't have calves other times of the year, they were just few and far between. Now was the time when they started raising a good sized herd to sell of at the beginning of next spring to support them most of the year round, besides the practical penny change they made selling their cows milk local, "Good job, mama," he praised the brown and white blotched animal next to him, already akin to new motherhood, licking her almost identical oversized calf like she knew nothing else.

Steve willed himself up off the ground onto shaky knees, this day had been one of his longest in a while. School on top of all the heifers seeming to want to calf at the exact same time. But as he looked past their property line, out into the marvelous bubblegum pink and creamsicle sunset, he found some sliver of peace.

Only the voice of his father snapped him out of his blissful moment of zoning out, seemed like he was doing a lot more of that lately "You best go wash up 'fer dinner, you know your ma ain't gon' have you at the table lookin' that way." He was right and Steve knew it, but he couldn't lie, a hot shower did sound pleasant on his aching joints.

He gave a quick "Yes sir," ending what was probably the tamest conversation they'd had in weeks, before making the short, yet long trek back to their homestead. He could see the lights on in the kitchen and living room, and as he got closer he came upon the silhouette of his mother washing her hands in the kitchen sink in the small window next to their side door.

He trotted up the last few stairs, smiling as he walked through the door to someone just as happy to greet him, "Well, look what the hot mess express brought in, my word sweetie," she said with no real malice, grinning at him like he was her pride and joy, which he was.

"Hi mama," he replied plainly, chuckling softly as she came over and pulled his nearly six foot frame down to her 5 '2 height for a kiss on the side of his head.

His chuckle turned into a full chested laugh when she made a fake gag of disgust, "You smell just 'bout right rank, son. You sure the heifers weren't the ones hackin' it up at your stink?" she teased and Steve just shook his head.

"Had my arm so far up one of 'em I'm prolly 'bout half cow any how," The brunette boy mimicked the struggle sticking his arm up the back end of a cow, to which Annette Harrington grimaced, "That's why I let you boys do your thing and I do mine," she gestured to the kitchen, which is what first alerted Steve to the smell of freshly made chicken pot pie sitting ready on the ceramic countertop.

His eyes immediately lit up with pure delight, like a kid on Christmas morning, except he was nineteen and to some sad extent pot pie was the highlight of his week, “Mama you didn’t!” he exclaimed, about to go in for a big hug before remembering what he was covered in.

Mrs. Harrington just shook her head, “Alright, go get cleaned up, the pie ain’t gon’ grow legs.” Within an instant Steve was racing off to his bedroom to grab a pair of pajamas and then to his bathroom to shower.

And to say he was right would have been an understatement. Steve swore the hot stream of water that cascaded down his spine sent him into seventh heaven, easing out his jammed knee and stiff elbow with ease.

He enjoyed his escape for about as long as the hot water lasted, a mere few minutes, but that was long enough for him. When he stepped out of the shower he shook his hair out like a wet dog, letting the towel he scrubbed his head with next catch the excess. Shortly after, he grabbed the comb up next to his sink, swiping the steam off the mirror to give his unruly mop a good brush through before quickly throwing on the pajamas he had grabbed prior.

Steve practically burst through the bathroom door, following the promising scent of dinner, blatantly stopping in his tracks when he found something that was definitely not chicken pot pie.

“Oh, Steven,” Oh boy, “We have someone we’d like ‘fer you to meet.” The smile on his moms face was sickeningly different from that she had on when welcoming him in from his chores. A lot less genuine and a lot more plastic, but still warm in the way it always was, it was just her nature.

Steve didn’t say anything for a few seconds, taking in the atmosphere, his parents, that boy. He would be lying if he said the golden-haired figure standing between his folks didn’t look straight out of one of the magazines he’d seen the few times they went into the city.

Striking icy blue eyes, rimmed with lashes that damn near put any woman’s to shame. Thick brows somehow shaped to perfection, lain a top skin so perfectly sun kissed and freckled with intent. Steve had to force himself to shake these thoughts, knowing how damn stupid he must have looked gawking like an idiot. But that didn’t push away the confusion he felt as his heart seemed to pick up at the statuesque mystery man standing before him.

“If they’d ‘a told me we were having’ company I would’ve thought to dress a ‘lil nicer ‘n this,” he remarked, cheeks burning a bit with embarrassment, feeling almost stark naked in his pajama pants and plain white t-shirt. He huffed out a short breath when the guy in front of him gave him a rather unconvincing pity laugh, parents following suit, “Ain’t no skin off my back, ‘m sure we’ll see each other in worse,” the radiant boy replied, once again leaving Steve baffled, but maybe that’s just what he did.

“Names Billy by the way, Billy Hargrove” the boy- Billy extended his hand for Steve to take and he did, taking the few steps forward to give his hand a proper shake before returning the favor, “Steve Harrington, pleasure’s mine,” he replied simply with a short nod of his head.

His father seemed pleased enough by this interaction, though Steve could never really tell, he always had this sort of stone cold thing going on.

There was a beat of somewhat awkward silence before Annette interjected, “How about some homemade pot pie?” she offered, with a prompt clap of her hands, sending her boys and their guest to the dinner table. Normally Steve would have been beaming, ready to talk and talk and talk about anything and everything under the sun, but suddenly he wasn’t exactly in the mood.

“Well, Billy we really are glad to have ya here,” Mr. Harrington continued in the tone he only used around guests or, really, people he was trying to impress. The sickeningly sweet, layered on false happiness and enthusiasm that made Steve’s stomach hurt, “Yeah, ‘ll y’know my old man’s been rearin’ to get me out of the house since the second I stepped foot outta school,” Hm, so he was older, “Since I graduated early ‘n all, couldn’t happen fast ‘nough.” The lanky boy nearly spit out his water, choking in an awkward way to where it came halfway up his nose and made his eyes water.

Steve coughed it out a bit before bringing his napkin up to his face, watery eyes of shame blinking themselves dry, “Y’ alright there cowboy?” Cowboy, Steve looked up at the smirk on the other boy’s face and had to hold back a sneer. The last thing he needed tonight was to get into it with his dad while they had company over.

“ ‘M fine, thanks,” he mumbled, feeling the short- lived rage in his stomach settle when his mother brought the meal over just in time, “Shall we?” she chimed in a sing-song tone, that wasn’t anything like his fathers, hers was genuine. Because if there was one thing about Annette Harrington, she didn’t have a mean bone in her body for anyone, unless they messed with her family.

Steve tuned out the prayer, forehead pressed solidly against his hands clasped so tight his knuckles were about ghostly white. He was just wondering when this Billy guy was going to leave so this night could be over. But of course, just when the brunette thought the topic might change, of course, even after the prayer, his father, John, had to dwell.

“I’ll say that’s right impressive, y’know Steve here’s held back a year, he’s ‘sposed to have graduated by now, but,” Mr. Harrington shrugged as he dug into his dinner. His son sat there halfway gobsmacked, halfway offended, but he should’ve expected such.

Steve scoffed, “Only ‘cus you got me doin’ half your work every day. I barely got time for anythin’ else,” he mumbled under his breath just loud enough for the table to hear as he stared down at his mashed potatoes. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel his fathers eyes boring into his skull like laser beams.

Steve’s mom just looked at him with a disappointed expression, but didn’t interject because she knew good and well it was true, “ ‘F that’s whatcha really think ‘n you’ll be happy to hear you won’t have to do it no more.” Steve’s eyebrows practically shot up his forehead and through his hairline.

What the hell was he talkin’ ‘bout?

“Huh?” Was all he could manage before his dad excitedly cut off whatever he was planning to say next, “Well what else do you think we got Billy here for, looks?” This gave everyone but Steve a good laugh, he didn’t see any reason to be laughing right now.

“ ‘N just what ‘o you mean by that?” He was so blinded by anger that he couldn’t even think about eating the pot pie his sweet mother had made, but he’d get over that guilt. He couldn’t say the same for the fury burning deep within him. He looked over at Billy who looked smug as ever, chewing on a bit of his food, sneaky eyes peeking out of the rim of his rather ratty looking Resistol. Oh what he would give right now to punch that smug look right off that pretty boy face.

John Harrington gave Steve the look, his signature look that said ‘I dare you to go testin’ me, boy’ and if there was ever a time for that it would be now, “Steve, you’ve been slacking lately ‘n we both know it, son.” Steve went to open his mouth but got cut off, again, “ ‘N I figured having Billy stay here ‘n work with me ‘d give you the time off to do sumn else. Like helpin’ your mom ‘round the house, you did always seem… better suited for those things.”

This couldn’t be fuckin’ for real, “John-,” his mom tried to scold.

There’s no way his dad just basically called him a sissy, not after-

“I had my hand up a cow’s ass ‘fer you today, ‘n then you’re gonna go sayin’ that- that bullshit?” Steve burst, knowing he would no doubt have to pay for these words later. He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes, not from guilt, not from shame, but of pure, unfiltered rage. But what really put salt in the wound was looking over at Billy, whose subtle smirk had far faltered, turning into something more innocent, more regretful. Like this wasn’t all his own damn fault in the first place.

Everything’s so unfair, this is so unfair. Not only did he feel hurt, but he felt embarrassed, having his dad say those things about him, basically calling him a sissy, in front of his own mother.

“Steven-” he heard his father try to reprimand, but Steve refused to take it. Instead, he stood up abruptly, the straightening of his knees sent his chair flying backwards against the wall. He would have cringed at the sound if he weren’t so genuinely pissed.

He was able to hold the tears in until he turned around, then it was like the dam just… burst. He felt a whine work its way up his throat, but he willed it back down, swallowing what last bit of pride he had left down with it.

Could a sissy do that? Maybe Steve didn’t want the answer to that.

He didn’t know what was going on, he’d never felt this was, this upset, this angry. He didn’t understand. He practically glid to his room, socked feet moving so fast he wasn’t sure whether or not he was actually taking real steps. And, frankly, he didn’t care, just wanted to be away.

When he made it to his room, he closed his door behind him and flopped down onto his bed, stomach down, choking on his own hushed sobs. It made him feel like a child again, pathetic, small, lonely. He turned on his side and curled in on himself a bit, clinging on to whatever little bit of comfort he could.

Through wallowing in his own self pity, he barely heard the faint mewl coming from behind him. He just groaned, hoping maybe if he ignored it long enough it, or rather she, would go away.

“Meooowww.” He should’ve known better, it was his fault for locking her in there with him anyways.

“Oh, Ginger,” he sighed, stuffy nose making him sound all nasally. And it was as if that was the permission the rather plump orange tabby needed to jump up on top of him like he was her human pillow, “Cain’t a man even have a few seconds alone.” To that, of course, she meowed at him in protest, ever the chatterbox.

Steve quickly accepted his defeat to the tubby cat when she somehow still gracefully jumped off his ribs and onto the empty spot in bed next to him. The pale light of bright stars shining through his window, reflecting off of Ginger’s big round saucer eyes were the only thing giving his room any light. But it didn’t matter because soon after he shut his own eyes, focusing on the purring of the seemingly content cat next to him, half wishing to disappear, half wishing to go back out there and beat Billy to a pulp. Even if only for existing.

Billy, stupid Billy and his stupid white teeth and his stupid pretty eyes and his stupid everything.

Fuck this dinner, fuck this day, and most importantly fuck Billy Hargrove.

#Harringrove #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Accidentally posted this last night when it wasn't ready so here we go again LMAO #Cowboy AU #Farm AU #Whatever you wanna call itWFJIKIWF

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skysiren41 · 3 months

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The wolf and The Match Girl

(Tw: this story obviously has topics of death, but it also deals with the topic of physical abuse towards a child, while the act isn't shown and just talked about, if this topic makes you uncomfortable or distresses, it's ok to skip the story

Also if you haven't read The Little Match Girl and want to read it, there will be spoilers so again if you want to read the original fairytale blind, feel free to skip)

The air was cold tonight, snow littered the street on this quaint town with the only light source being the lamps that stood tall and the moon and stars shining below. The streets were deathly silent, with only the sound of the wind blowing, the laughter and cheer of the people inside bars and their homes, and the sound of snow crunching under the paws of a hooded figure as he walked through the streets silently as he whistled a soft haunting tune

Death's job was never easy, not every human ready to pass was an elderly person who lived their life to the fullest, or a cruel ruler getting what they deserved. There were times where it was a young person who got too drunk and didn't watch their footing. Sometimes it was a new mother that couldn't handle the stress of childbirth. Sometimes...it was a child, suffering from the cruelty of the world

And he had a feeling that is who was next

When he walked passed a alley between two houses, he stopped when he heard a strange sound coming from the back. At first he thought it was a dog whining, but when he heard it again, it sounded like a person quietly coughing

Curiosity took over him as he slowly made his way down to the alley, keeping his paws on his sickles in case it was a trick or an ambush. He heard the sound again this time it was closer, his eyes landed on a few barrels that were stacked on top of each other. He carefully moved one of the barrels and what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks

A young girl was sitting beside the barrels, huddled up into a ball as she shook like a leaf from the cold. Her dress was old and torn, with only a old scarf wrapped around her in a vain attempt to keep warm. The girl looked up with fear in her eyes and shielded herself with her arms, as if she was anticipating an attack

"It's alright pequeño, I'm not going to hurt you." He said in a soft gentle tone. He kneeled down to her level as he pulled down the hood of his cloak, revealing his face to her. He took the appearance of a wolf, his fur was as white as the snow on the ground, with the only form of color aside from the grey patch on his face was his bright red eyes that looked at her with sympathy. "What is your name?"

The girl lowered her arms slightly when she realised he wasn't trying to harm her. "M-Mary, my name is Mary." She said in a soft voice, he almost didn't hear her. "Who...are you?"

"I'm just a traveller wandering through this town" He said, he knew that she was already scared so telling her who he was would only scare her more. He then noticed beside her was looked like the burn remains of what looked to be matchsticks, and he then noticed in her hands was one more unlit matchstick. "May I sit beside you?"

Death saw Mary looking unsure for a moment, but eventually she nodded. When he got the confirmation he carefully sat down beside her and stared at the wall as Mary kept the match close to her. After a minute of silence he spoke"If you don't mind me asking...why are you outside on your own?" He asked, still stating at the wall. After a moment Mary spoke

"I was scared to go home..." Mary said softly. Death immediately turned to look at her as she continued. "I was ment to sell these matches to someone, but no one is interested. If I go home to my father without selling them and earning even a penny....he will be very angry" She finished as she held the match tighter to her chest

Death could feel the anger growing inside him. How could a father let his anger out on his own child? Why was she the one sent outside to freeze while he sat on his ass by the fire. He took a deep breath to calm down. "Do you have any other family with you?"

"No sir, my mother died when I was a baby, and I lost my grandmother not too long ago." She muttered as she weakly rested her head on his shoulder. "I miss her dearly..." She said as her eyes begun to close

Death could see her growing weak, she had nowhere to turn to, she had no one. He knew he couldn't leave her like this to suffer. "....I know where your grandmother is"

Mary opened her eyes when she heard that. "You do?" She asked

"Yes." He said before standing up and offering his hand. "If you wish to see her, follow me please" Mary thought for a moment, before reaching for his hand. Death gently helped her up as he walked her out of the alley. "What was your grandmother like?"

"Oh she was the kindest, most loving women I've ever met. We use to sell matches together. Every Christmas she would make a lovely roasted goose for all of us. After we ate we sat by the tree and she would sing till I fell asleep. I remember she use to tell that when a shooting star passes, it was some making their way to heaven" She finished as they walked out to the street

"I see...she seems like a nice women" Death said as they made it to the middle of the town. "Here we are, she should be here"

"Where is she?" Mary asked as she looked around. "I don't see her"

"She's here, all you need to do is light that match" He told her and pointed to the last match she had

At first Mary didn't want to and was starting to think he was lying, but believing she had no other choice, she lit the match. She watched the match slowly burn for a few moments before she heard a soft, old voice behind her, a familiar voice

"Mary?" It said, she turn around to see an older women walking up to them from the snow

"Grandma?" She said, and the woman gave her a warm smile. "Grandma!" She ran to her as fast as she could and hugged her tight, tears falling from her eyes. "Oh grandma, I missed you so much!"

"Oh my dear Mary, I'm so sorry I had to leave, I missed you too." The woman said before looking back at Death with the same old smile. "Ah! There you are my old friend, thank you for your help"

"Of course my lady, its a pleasure helping you" He said watching them with a soft smile

She smiled back before looking back at Mary. "Come on Mary, let's get you warm and fed" She said and begun to head out to the snow. Before Mary followed she ran up and hugged Death, which caught him by suprise, but after a bit he hugged back

"Thank you sir, you really are a angel" Mary said as she hugged him

"Your welcome, and take care" Death said as she let go and nodded before following her grandmother into the snow, both smiling and laughing as Death waved bye

A few hours passed and the sun started to rise as Death was heading out of the town. He stopped when he saw passers-by all at the alley where Mary was, whispering towards one another

"The poor thing, she was left out here all alone to freeze?" One women said

"Look at the matches on the ground, the poor girl was trying to warm herself up" A man said

As Death got closer he saw what they were talking about. Beside the barrels was Mary's body, she layed there like a statue not even her chest was moving. The passers-by were too shocked and upset to notice the peaceful look on her face, a soft smile still visible

Death sighed gently as he continued walking, he knew Mary wouldn't have made it, so he had spend her last few moments with her, trying to comfort her before he brought her to her grandmother to be reunited. He made it out of the village and into the snow covered field. Looking up he saw a few stars still in the sky

That was when he saw a shooting star fly pass in the sky. He smiled softly

"Have a safe journey pequeño" He said as he lifted his hood up and walked out into the field, whistling that haunting but also comforting tune once more

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