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thewintersoldierdisaster · 1 month

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a/n: another installment of the mini tik tok series! this one was fun and aggressively smutty lol. i’ve been having fun with the tik tok fics and there’s so much more i want to work on this summer (which lol can’t believe it’s august 🙈) enjoy! 🤍

word count: 3.5k

tw: dirty talk, unprotected sex, fingering (f recieving), cum play, semi-tit job, brief oral (m recieving), semi-public sex

summary: mat comes home from golf to find you set up for another tik tok video, much to his surprise and excitement

You tap lazily over to the Find My Friends app, searching for Mat’s little circle on the map. He’s smack in the middle of the green blob that represents the Glen Oaks Club, right next to Bo’s little circle too.

Sharing locations with half the team is wild, but was absolutely a necessity after last year’s summer trip to Italy where half the guys had gotten lost during a vineyard tour, drunkenly singing a bastardized version of ‘New York, New York’ when they’d been found.

Since then, it’s been location sharing city for your little group.

It’s especially useful when Mat’s at the golf course and you want to have an idea of when he’s on his way home. Today, you’re letting him have his time on the course since training camp opens in two days and soon he’ll be in full hockey mode. But you do have a little fun planned, a Tik Tok trend that you’d seen earlier in the summer and have been waiting to test out on Mat. He’s a good sport about joining in your videos - between you and Liana, he’s used to being used as an unwilling participant in your videos and likes making random cameos. And this video is more for his benefit than yours.

It’s a beautiful mid-September day on the Island and the UV is an 8, so you decided to take the setting of your video outside and you’re posted up on a lounge chair with your book and Stanley until Mat comes home.

After polishing off nearly half of your book, you check Mat’s location again and you’re surprised to find that he’s on the move - heading back home. You hadn’t realized so much time had passed.

He’ll be home in ten minutes, according to the app, so you hop off the lounger and get everything set up, adrenaline making your heart skip a beat. You shake out the towel on top of the lounger and straighten it, moving your book and Stanley off to the coffee table. You check the app again and Mat’s down the block, his little circle stopped at the intersection that has a traffic camera, where you’ve both gotten caught more than once.

Once his car turns onto your block, you take the final step and untie the strings of your bikini, stepping out of the bottoms and tossing the scraps of fabric off to the side. You shiver a little, even though it’s not cold at all and sit back down on the lounger, bending your knee and then straightening it out. You scrunch up your face and bend it again - there’s a slight breeze on your bare cunt and you wiggle, unbending your knee again.

“Fuck this is so awkward,” you grumble to yourself, tipping your head back and closing your eyes against the warmth of the sun.

After a few seconds of soaking up the heat, you check your phone again and Mat’s little icon is right on top of your blue dot. He’s home and you grin when you hear his car door slam shut in the driveway. You give an excited little wiggle and open Tik Tok on your phone, thumbing over to start recording.

The back doors are open so you can hear Mat come through the front and kick off his shoes. One hits the wall with a faint thump and you roll your eyes, knowing there’s going to be a little scuff mark on the wall.

Quietly, into the microphone of your phone, you say, “Mat’s home and I’m naked in the backyard. I’m going to call him out to see something and I’m sure he’ll give us all a reaction for the ages.”

From inside, you can hear him call out for you, “Squeaks? Babe, I’m back.”

A giggle bubbles on your chest and makes your voice shake a little when you call back, “I’m outside. Can you come take a look at something for me?”

“I’m not catching another lizard,” he shouts out, footsteps getting closer. “Leave them alone on the deck.”

You roll your eyes to yourself - it was one time, twice tops, but Mat will never let you forget it. “No lizards, just come here,” you call, moving the phone slightly away from your mouth and making sure the back doors are squarely in the frame.

He appears in the doorway a second later, dressed for golf in his shorts and polo, with a brown paper Chipotle bag in his hand. “I picked up lunch and I’ll even sha—“ his sentence stops short when he steps onto the deck and catches sight of you. You grin to yourself and watch as he processes what he’s seeing.

Mat’s eyes are wide and his jaw is slack briefly before a slow smirk stretches his lips. “Squeaks…” he trails off your nickname, his voice suddenly rough.

“Mhm?” You hum, still holding your phone slightly to the side. To your amusement, the front of Mat’s shorts tighten in front of your eyes, the fabric straining over his cock. He so clearly doesn’t know where to look, eyes bouncing from your phone to your face to your tits to your thighs.

To be extra wicked, you sit up and stretch your legs open, feet on either side of the lounger so Mat has the perfect view of your cunt, bare and dripping wet.

His jaw works and he carefully sets the Chipotle bag on the deck table. “I’m not even gonna ask what Tik Tok trend this is, but thank God for it,” he mutters, yanking his polo over his head and sending his hat flying off in the process. His hair is messy around his face, sticking up in all directions and you can’t wait to get your hands in it.

You giggle. “I told you I wanted you to come look at something,” you reply, watching with hungry eyes as he kicks off his shorts, the belt still half buckled, and crosses the grass in a few long strides. He’s standing in front of you in just his boxer-briefs, black and tight over his growing erection.

Mat grips himself roughly over the fabric and you watch the tendons in his wrist flex.

“Yeah,” he huffs a breath out of his nose, “I’m definitely looking at something.” His hand sinks under the fabric of his briefs and you watch his hand move, stretching the fabric obscenely while he pumps his cock once, twice, three times. “And now I’m gonna get my hands on her.”

Your hand falls slightly to the side, still recording on your phone and you have the brief thought that you’re definitely going to have to edit the shit out of this video before Mat’s yanking down his briefs and kneeling at the foot of the lounger, his hands wrapped around the outside of your thighs. He pulls, dragging your body closer to his and you let out a little yelp at the sudden movement.

Your phone goes flying from your hand, landing in the grass next to the chair and you pout at Mat, “my phone! Let me -“

“Nope,” he cuts you off with a little swat to your hip. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now, I have to look at something.”

He leans forward, his cock bobbing up against his stomach and you swallow, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re very glad you decided to put down a towel.

Mat’s hands are hot on your thighs, trailing up over your sides and splaying out over your ribcage, fingertips brushing the undersides of your breasts. He grins down at you, “looking at these tits, my favorite tits. But I think -“ he cups each one in a hand, flicking his thumbs over your nipples until they’re tight and pebbled, “yeah, they look better like this. Even better with my mouth on them.”

You whine as soon as Mat leans down and wraps his lips around one nipple, tracing a circle around it with his tongue. You can feel his cock - hot, hard, and leaking - on your stomach and you lift your hips subconsciously, trying to relieve some of the ache that’s building between your thighs. His grinds his cock against your stomach lazily and you moan his name, hands flying up to his hair to tug. Mat grunts against your breast the harder you pull and after a particularly hard yank, he bites down. The sting is enough to make you yelp and rake your nails over his scalp.

“That hurt,” you pout and he shakes his head, releasing your tit with a wet pop.

“Did not,” he counters, pupils blown wide and lips slick with saliva.

You grin and tug at his hair a bit more. “Let me bite you and we’ll see who’s right,” you reply breathily, Mat’s hands kneading at your breasts.

He slides his cock against your stomach and you gasp, fresh arousal pooling between your thighs. “Baby, we’ll get to the biting, don’t worry,” he teases, pinching and rolling your nipples until you cry out.

You hum, pulling at his hair to drag his face to yours, desperate for a kiss. Mat obliges, sliding his lips over yours and sucking at your tongue while his hands play with your breasts and his cock grinds against your stomach. It’s hard to catch your breath with all the sensation, the pleasure building steadily in your stomach.

He smells good, a combination of sweat and grass that isn’t masked by his deodorant, and you let your hands drift out of his hair and over his back. The muscles bunch and move as he does, sweat gathering between his shoulder blades.

You nip at his lower lip and Mat smiles against your mouth, pulling back slowly. One of his legs shifts, his knee sliding up and pressing against your cunt. A gasp punches from your lungs, the rub of his leg hair against your clit the friction you’ve been searching for. “Oh my god,” you whine, scratching at his back and rolling your hips against his knee.

“Needy,” Mat clicks his tongue, amused. As if his own hips aren’t moving of their own accord, gliding his cock against your stomach and leaving a trail of precome in its wake.

“You love it,” you murmur, scratching down his back. The longer you grind against Mat’s knee, the closer you come to an orgasm and it’s right there when Mat moves his hands back to your hips and pulls you down, hiking your cunt higher up on his thigh. His hands wrap around your thighs, his thumb subconsciously finding the spot on your upper inner thigh where the tiny ‘mb13’ is tattooed. He looks down and grins at the ink, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb. His cock seems to swell the longer he looks at the tattoo, thick and heavy on your chest.

“Fuck yeah, I do,” he leans in more, pushing his cock over your chest, in between the valley of your breasts. The hot weight of him on your chest makes your breathing shallower and you lose track of your movements, hips stuttering to a stop on his thigh. “You’re distracting me,” he mumbles. “Supposed to be looking at something.”

“What are you looking at now?” You murmur, breathless. Your hips move mindlessly and Mat shifts your legs, pulling them together and straddling them so your thighs are pressed tight and there’s steady pressure on your clit. You whine and wiggle your hips again, pleasure coiling tightly in your stomach.

Mat grins down at you, thrusting his hips forward so the head of his cock bumps against your chin. “Looking at that pretty face of yours,” he replies, hands finding your breasts again and playing with them. “My favorite face, especially when you look all fucked out.”

“Haven’t even fucked me yet,” you whine, darting your tongue out to lick at the tip of Mat’s cock. It jerks, twitching against your chest, and you grin wickedly, licking it again. Your hands find Mat’s thighs, tracing over the thick muscle until you let them slide over his stomach and wrap around the base of his cock.

He groans over you, curling forward when your fingers tighten around him.

“Don’t need to,” his voice is strangled. “You always look like that when I get my dick out.”

You stroke his cock firmly and press your thumb against his leaking tip, craning your neck to lick him again before sucking the tip between your lips. Mat’s chin falls to his chest, a loud grunt vibrating through his body.

“Shh,” you giggle faintly, releasing the head of his cock with a wet pop. “The neighbors are going to hear!” Even as you admonish him, you repeat your actions, gripping him tightly and drooling over his cock.

Mat shifts back, his cock falling out of your grip and slapping against your left breast. There’s sticky precome all over your chest and stomach and Mat drags his fingers through it before shoving them in your mouth. You hum around his fingers, swirling your tongue over them until they’re dripping. He’s further down your legs now, using his other hand to pry your thighs apart slightly, nudging his cock head in between your legs. He taps the leaking head of it against your tattoo, leaving a smear of precome, and then shifts so it’s pressed tightly against your clit. The pressure makes you see stars and you whine loudly, muffled by his fingers.

“Shhh,” he teases, thrusting his hips shallowly. He lets his fingers fall from your lips and you yelp loudly when those same fingers find your clit and pinch it at the same time his cock bumps against it. “Neighbors will hear you.”

“Oh my god, Mat!” Your groan shifts off into a strangled shout when, without warning, Mat’s fingers find your soaked entrance and circle it, fingers spreading you wide so he can thrust the first few inches of his cock into you. The stretch always burns briefly and then he moves, rolling his hips into yours and filling you to the brim, pleasantly full. You chant his name like a prayer, louder and louder every time he batters against your g-spot. Any concern about the neighbors hearing you is out the window with all the rest of your thoughts.

Mat’s got one hand gripping at the top of the lounge chair, his hair flopped over his forehead and sweat trailing down his temple as his hips snap relentlessly. “Look so fucking beautiful taking my cock,” he groans when you clench around him. “Fucking waiting here for me, naked and ready. Goddamn Tik Tok giving you the best ideas.”

Your nails dig it to his asscheeks, dragging him closer, knees bent to open yourself more for him. “Love you, love you, oh my god,” you babble, nearly at the edge. His free hand trails down your body and presses down on your lower stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock from the outside. You shriek at the sensation, rocking your hips and meeting him thrust for thrust.

He snaps his hips again, harder, and you fall, seeing stars as your orgasm rushes through your body. You come hard and wet around his cock, squirting all over his pelvis and lower stomach. Mat’s cock thickens inside of you and he comes a second later, filling you for so long you’re startled that he’s still hard even after his hips have stopped moving and he’s collapsed on top of you. The sweaty weight of his body makes it hard to catch your breath and you can’t help but wiggle underneath him, digging at his thigh with your heel.

“Gimme a sec,” he mutters against your neck, shifting his hips. You gasp, sensitive and overstimulated and still stuffed full of his hard cock.

“How’re you still hard?” You breathe, pushing at his sides, trailing your fingers over his muscles.

Mat finally rolls off of you, wedging your body against his on the lounger meant for one. You cling to him so you don’t fall off. “How is that even a question?” He laughs, trailing a hand over your back and in between your legs. You wiggle against his touch, his cock pressed against your stomach and his fingers rubbing your mixed fluids against your inner thigh. It’s messy and disgusting but you don’t have any desire to move. “I’ve been hard for you from the minute I met you. Squeaks.”

“Perv,” you tease, licking a bead of sweat from his jaw.

His laugh is loud, echoing around the yard. “As if you’re not the one who started this,” he pinches at your inner thigh. “Sitting out here butt ass naked, filming a Tik Tok.”

“Oh my god!” The mention of the social media app sparks in your brain and you remember your phone, in the grass and still recording. You try to scramble over Mat’s lap, but he locks you in place with his arms. “Let go, oh my god. I have to delete that video. It’s hard core porn!!”

“Soft core,” Mat counters, laughing. “It’s just our voices.”

You growl at him, “not helping!” and wriggle in his arms until you’re draped over his side with your ass in the air and your arms stretched out to the grass to reach for your phone. Mat laughs under you, shaking your whole body and making it hard for you to reach your phone. He pats at your ass, a little nonsense rhythm and you kick your foot in the air, knowing it won’t hit him.

“You should send me the video,” he says as soon as you’ve managed to snag your phone. “I like hearing you scream my name.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, blood rushing to your face the longer you stay practically upside down over Mat’s lap. You stop the recording and your thumb hovers over the button to delete the video. A small part of you actually wants to rewatch it and see Mat’s reaction again. The smarter part of you wants to make sure your soft core porn never leaks on the Internet.

Your brain struggles to focus with the way Mat’s kneading at your ass, his voice soothing as he speaks, “download it, it’ll just be for us. Can’t even see anything.”

“Stop trying to be the little devil on my shoulder,” you complain, but your thumb moves away from the delete button and you find yourself canceling the action instead.

Mat laughs again, your favorite sound, and slides his hand in between your legs, playing lazily with your clit. You wiggle and gasp, clenching around nothing. “Put it in a locked folder,” he continues, dragging you slowly to the edge.

You can’t think with lust and arousal fogging your brain and by the time Mat’s fingered you to a second orgasm all thoughts of deleting the video are gone.

“Hey,” Mat says, his chest vibrating under your cheek. You’re slumped over him, legs straddling his hips, completely limp and boneless.

“Hmm?” You hum, wondering briefly if the sting on your ass is from Mat’s hand or the beginnings of a sunburn.

“You have any other Tik Tok videos you want to make?” He teases, playfully gripping your ass. “I like these naked ones best.”

He yelps when you bite down on the muscle of his pec, a little nip, and taps at your cheek with his free hand. “You’re such a gremlin,” he says over your laughter.

You lean your chin on his chest, looking up at him with a wide smile on your face. “Takes one to know one,” you shoot back, kissing his jaw. “Now carry me inside, I want my Chipotle bowl.”

“You mean my Chipotle bowl?” Mat retorts. Still, he sits up and takes you with him, your arms looped around his neck and legs locked around his waist.

“What’s yours is mine,” you giggle, waving a hand in the hair behind his back. “Happy wife, happy life. All that Hallmark-y stuff.”

He stands and you cling tighter, the slip of your sweaty skin against his making your thighs flex around his waist so you don’t fall. “Not a wifey yet, Squeaks,” he teases, locking his hands under your ass and carrying you over to the deck. Your phone’s back on the grass, but you’ll make Mat go get it in a second, along with both of your discarded clothes.

“Less than a year,” you point out, wiggling your left hand in front of his face.

He kisses your finger and in a sappy little move, says, “counting down the seconds until you’re Mrs. Barzal.”

Your entire body turns to mush, so much love for Mat flooding your brain. You press a kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” you mumble.

“Love you too, my little exhibitionist freak,” Mat laughs, drowning out your outraged gasp.

You can’t be too mad at him though, not when he settles you on the deck chair and hands over his Chipotle bowl, retrieving his golf polo and pulling it over your head so you can eat comfortably and not sunburn.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

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narcissistshandler · 8 months

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are you still making hobie fics 🙏

ps omg ur stuff is sooo delicious its crazy

req; please make a fic of hobie squirming from the reader's suggestive teasing/touch in a public place (diner, movie theater, school etc.) thanks so much !!!

𝗔𝗧𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗔

pairing. hobie brown x gn reader

warnings. dry humping, frottage, cumming in pants, everything happens in public, reader has no gender or genitalia mentioned.

a/n. I don't think you guys have any idea how happy I always am with your compliments, I really hope you like this.

The chaotic, loud and fast symphony reverberated through your ears, the notes that sounded between a mix of rock and hard-hitting singing echoing through the speakers and filling the small local bar that was not much more than a joint where young people gathered to drink, listening to music and criticize the government — everything Hobie liked most, and that's why you had brought him here for a 'date'. Date. This wasn't exactly most people's idea of a date, but seeing the smile that never left Hobie's face as he jumped up and down and sang along to the familiar lyrics of the famous song the band covered, you knew this was exactly the ideal type of date for your boyfriend.

Everything was perfect. The band was a little out of tune, but that was ok, the stage presence made up for it. It was too crowded, and you could barely move without bumping into someone, but people were at least polite. Although, when Hobie was wearing the tightest leather pants, tall boots, and a fishnet top under the jacket that hid absolutely nothing, it was hard to pay much attention to anything else.

You gripped Hobie's hips, fingers against the cold leather hanging right over the protruding bones, tight enough to feel like a second skin. The set of belts purposely left a little loose over his pants and the silver of the thin strap around his neck reflecting under the lights. Hobie's body was warm, sweat running down the back of the neck under the black frizzy curls and you couldn't help but lean in and press your lips there, taking in the cold of the choker and the heat of his dark skin.

It was difficult to talk here and very easy to get lost in the small, lively crowd, which made it convenient for you to stay behind your boyfriend's body, holding him close to prevent you from separating —and from anyone getting the privileged view of Hobie's round ass.

Hobie chuckled, the bass of his laugh vibrating against your chest pressed against his back, otherwise it would have been difficult to notice. "Wanting to mark territory, huh?" he teased, turning his head a little to meet your gaze. The soft lights of the bar reflected in his leering gaze as he continued, "Not that I mind, but we're in public, babe."

You smiled playfully, fingers drawing circles on his hips. "I can't be blamed for wanting to keep the competition at bay. This privileged view is reserved for my eyes only."

Hobie opened his mouth and you leaned in even closer so you could hear what he was saying over the ferocious drums, "Well, in that case, I'm all yours. But let's not make it too obvious, or we might end up stealing the show."

“You’ve never complained about being the star of the show before,” you say, tone heavy with innuendo that precedes your hands inching up the sides of his hips, towards the toned stomach that ripples under your touch.

“Not when you're my only audience,” Hobie says back, but he doesn't pull away when your thumb traces his belly button piercing.

Although it was impossible to ignore the bodies pressing against you from all sides, elbows occasionally finding a target and feet stepping on each other, the atmosphere was dark enough that it was difficult to make out faces and between the euphoria, the alcohol and the music, you knew that something was missing for this date to be the best for Hobie, unforgettable. And he knew it too.

“I’ll still be in the front seat,” you said amused. Your fingers found the hem of his pants and Hobie's body shook, as if an electric shock had coursed through him. "Watching you, adoring you. No one else matters. What if someone sees? I'll still be the only one touching you."

Hobie turned his attention forward, seeming to look to see if anyone was paying attention. “I don’t know,” he said and you almost didn’t hear him, hand already flat against the front of Hobie’s pants. "[name]-" He tensed against you. You felt his erection through the leather, feeling the delicious heat of it radiating through the fabric. The contact made Hobie shudder.

Your lips pressed against his ear, wanting to make sure every word was heard:

"But you're already hard for me. You've been practically since we arrived. Don't think I haven't noticed you rubbing your ass against me."

Despite the stiffness in his shoulders from contact, there was still amusement and pride in his tone when he answered you, "I'm sure I wanted you to notice that last part."

"I'm sure you did, dirty boy."

The music pulses and the bass chords dance at the same time as your fingers run down the front of Hobie's pants, tracing the familiar outline of the member that presses against the leather. It felt like touching bare skin. "[name]," Hobie calls again, you don't hear the sound, you just read his full lips moving.

"Yes?" you ask, giving him a chance to stop you even if you don't stop touching him, rubbing the palm of your hand against him and pinching the tip between two fingers. Your other hand holds his hips, feeling the tension that ripples through the muscles. "Come on, Hobie, you know you want this."

His hips snap at the touch, slamming against your hand, then back against your crotch and back into your hand. There's still tension there though, and maybe it's because of the danger of doing this in public, but his every movement feels restrained and hard, like a poorly oiled gear trying to work.

Hobie is all hot against you, pulse racing beneath your open lips over the salty skin of his slender neck. He turns his head back, almost bumping his head against yours and searches for your mouth. "You're wicked, [name], you know I would never say 'no' to you," he pants, drowning the words against your mouth, forcing you to swallow your own name. He kisses you then, desperately, breathless and completely weak to the pleasure coursing through his veins as you slowly run your thumb along the sensitive tip of his member, matching the rhythm of your tongue sliding into his mouth.

One of your hands slides across the smooth leather, dragging your palm against his cock as you kiss him, the lyrics that sought to remind of all the weight and filth of the society clicking in your ears. Your other hand moves up, running over the bumpy fabric of the fishnet until finds a bulge that presses against your finger. The cold metal slides against your touch, pulling with it the pointy brown nipple peeking out from under his top and Hobie moans against your mouth, asking for 'more'. It was as if today, before leaving home, Hobie had chosen his clothes thinking about how you could touch him without difficulties or real barriers.

You drink in the sounds Hobie makes against your mouth, their volume is lost beneath the music, but the vibration of every moan and every utterance of your name reverberates against your lips, right into your mouth, like a song that only you had access.

Hand wrapped awkwardly around Hobie's dick, fingers practically digging into the sides of it, digging into the leather to get enough precision to pull him hard and fast through each thrust. Hobie writhes against you and melts and it's the most beautiful show. He keeps his mouth against yours even when the kiss ends, humming along to the guitar chords, cursing and following the lyrics of the song. He seems lost in his own head, his brown eyes shining with lust and one hand reached back and gripping your hair, using the support to swivel his hips in a sensual circle, the belts slapping against your arm.

"[name]," he sings through the song's lyrics as he moves against your hand, taking what he needs. "That feels good... you are... I need more... can you...? Fuck."

In the low light you doubted anyone could see the vision of the beautiful man coming apart beneath your fingers to the point where tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. It was a good thing not. You didn't want that in the end — soon — when the night reached its climax and Hobie followed, spilling for you in his pants, anyone else could watch his mouth falling open, hips erratic and his entire body shaking as he became unable to say anything other than your name. The most beautiful spectacle of all and that belonged only to your eyes.

#x male reader #x gn reader #dom reader #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x male reader #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #across the spiderverse x gn reader

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deltaharrington · 5 months

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SHARING IS CARING

PAIRING: Boyfriend!Bokuto Koutaro x Fem!Reader x Hinata Shoyo

SUMMARY: Bokuto’s close friend, and teammate, Hinata is inexperienced when it comes to women, so Bokuto decides to share his girlfriend as practice…

WARNINGS: NSFW content, MINORS DNI, sexual content, kinda poly?, group mastrubation, etc. Timeskip Bokuto and Hinata (THEY ARE CONSENTING ADULTS)

Dating a professional volleyball player came with its ups and downs.

Bokuto was the perfect boyfriend by all means, but that didn’t distract from the fact that he had to travel a lot, and with your work schedule, you couldn’t always make it to games.

As much as he loved seeing you at his games, Ko understood that you wanted to work. (Even though he’d argued plenty that his own income was enough for you both).

At times when you were separated, he’d have more time with the MSBY team.

Especially Hinata.

It was no surprise that his star pupil had grown since high school. He was taller, more experienced, and a complete catch.

So when the ginger expressed that he hadn’t had any luck with woman, Ko was shocked.

“I’ve never even touched a woman, Bokuto-san!” The ginger whined in the locker room after a game. All of the other boys had left, and the pair always went back to the hotel together.

“I feel like….I don’t know how” He added and Bokuto raised a brow at the revelation. “Like..you! I see the damn scratch marks Y/N gives you, so you must be doing something right” Hinata said, his cheeks flushing a bit.

“Are you saying I’m good in bed. Shoyo?” Bokuto teased and the ginger groaned and huffed, shaking his head a bit.

“Can you teach me? Or…tell me how you do it?” Hinata asked “I can flirt and get girls just fine, but when we go to have sex- I don’t think I know how to please them enough”

Bokuto understood that better than anyone. When you two first began dating, he was more than inexperienced and he was terrified he wasn’t doing anything right.

It took practice, and soon enough, you were putty beneath Bokuto when you had sex. He was an absolute God in bed.

If only he had someone to teach him.

“I have a proposition for you, Hinata” Bokuto said before he sat next to the ginger on the locker room bench. “If Y/N is okay with it, I’ll let you borrow her for practice” He said.

Hinata nearly gaped at the offer. “Bokuto- I couldn’t do that! She’s your girlfriend!”

“Sure you can my man! I’m completely okay with it, if it’ll boost your confidence.” Bo said “And Y/N is good at this stuff! She helped me!” He said.

So it was settled. Now to get your permission.

“You want me to what?”

“I want you to let Hinata fuck you, he needs the practice” Kotarou said like it was nothing.

“I- what made you think of this?” You asked, shocked.

You’d just been lounging on the couch with Bokuto when he brought the topic up. He’d just gotten home and you were spending as much time together as you could before he had to leave again.

“He was stressing about pleasing women, and I was like that when I met you” Bokuto explained. Oh. So he felt bad for him.

“I…I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to it” You mumbled and he smiled. “Only if you’re there” You added and he nodded with a stern look on his face.

“I have to guide him- I’m not sending him in blind” Bokuto said “And besides, you are mine after all” He added and you rolled your eyes playfully.

The idea had your mind racing with not-so-pure thoughts. Having two big guys pleasing you? Oh god. You hoped you wouldn’t regret this…

“How’s next week sound, pretty girl?” Ko said and you nodded your head, the nerves in your stomach swirling at the mere thought of showing your boyfriend’s best friend how to fuck properly.

The night of the…uh act? You didn’t know what to call it, but it came quickly. Bokuto planned on bringing Hinata over for dinner and then afterwards “the fun would happen”, as your boyfriend put it.

He requested that you wore his favorite set, as he planned on getting in on the action too. He wasn’t fond of being left out, especially not by Hinata.

The poor ginger boy was a blushing mess when he arrived at your apartment, and you tried to calm him down with small talk, but that only seemed to heighten his nerves.

“Hey, Hinata” You spoke as he picked at his dinner, his cheeks properly flushed and his hands shaking like a leaf. Poor guy.

“No need to be nervous, think of this like volleyball practice” You said and he began to lighten up after that. Thank the Gods.

Once dinner was over and everything was cleaned up, Bokuto led you both to the bedroom, having Hinata sit in the chair near your bed so he could watch first.

Bokuto stood looming over you with a hungry look in his eyes. Your cheeks heated up at this, glancing to Hinata to see nearly the same look in his eyes.

Oh fuck.

“The first thing you have to nail is the way you kiss someone…like this” Bokuto said and moved to you, gently cupping your cheek before leaning down, pressing his lips to yours. You almost immediately moaned into his mouth just by the mere passion in his actions, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Hinata watched intensely as you two made out, watching as Bokuto’s hands trailed to your waist and slipped under your shirt, gently squeezing at your plush hips.

Hinata was nearly a mess just watching something this intimate up close.

Bokuto pulled away, a small string of saliva connecting your mouths. A sheepish smile crossed your features he smiled. “Now she’s shy…” He teased before waving Hinata over.

Shoyo stood and made his way to you like he was a magnet, his eyes glued to yours.

“Your turn” Bokuto said and Hinata did as told. He gently cupped your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him before his lips met yours.

A gasp emitted from you as Hinata pulled your body flush to his, his large hand slipping under your shirt and traveling up your back.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth and your hands caught in his hair, gently tugging at the shorter strands near the nape of his neck, earning a grunt in response from him.

When Hinata pulled away, the same string of saliva held you together like with Bokuto.

“H-How was that?” He asked and scratched the back of his neck.

“Hinata..you were perfect, you did exactly what Bokuto would have” You said and your boyfriend smiled wide.

“See? You’ve got this ginger!” Bokuto said and gave you a smirk, moving to stand behind you.

“Stay in front of her” Your boyfriend ordered and Shoyo nodded his head. “Now, let’s get these off, hm?” He said and gently raised your shirt over your head, revealing the, nearly see through, bra you were wearing. He did the same with you pants, leaving you in your matching panties.

Hinata was a blushing mess “You’re so beautiful” He muttered and you blushed a bit.

Bokuto gently wrapped his arms around you from behind and you leaned into him. His hands trailed up and began to grope at your tits, emitting a small whine from you.

“She’s super sensitive, which means she’s very vocal…she’ll tell you if she doesn’t like something” Bokuto said and Hinata nodded his head profusely.

Bokuto’s right hand slid down your front and then into your panties, making your cheeks flush.

His middle finger found your clit and he began circling at a fast pace, causing you to throw your head back and let out a loud moan.

This lasted a bit, and Hinata was watching as you nearly fell apart in Bokuto’s arms.

“I like to play with her a bit, mark her up, bring her right to the edge…” Bo said right as you were close to cumming. He then stopped his movements, earning a pout from you.

“We’ve gotta let Hinata in on the action too, sweetheart” Bokuto said and you nodded “He can make you cum”

Hinata and Bokuto switched positions and you expected Hinata to have some trouble finding your clit, but he found it almost immediately, and he absolutely went crazy, his middle finger moving in circles at an ungodly pace.

“Hinata! Shit- that feels so good!” You cried out. His left arm supported your body weight as you leaned into him, loud and unpredictable moans leaving your throat.

“Fuck! Can I cum?” You asked and Hinata looked to Bokuto, who shrugged.

“It’s up to you Hinata” The man said and Hinata smirked a bit.

“Mm not yet, hold on a bit longer for me” The ginger cooed and you cried out in desperation.

“Please! Shoyo!” You begged and he hummed in confirmation before you came, your body shaking. Hinata held you up and helped you ride through the orgasm. He was good at this.

“Now give her some praise…she likes that” Bokuto said and Hinata nodded.

“You did so good for me” He whispers and pressed kisses to your cheeks and neck from behind you. “Good girl” He added and your cheeks flushed a deep red.

“Is….is that all?” Hinata asked and Bokuto raised a brow.

“Oh, we’re just getting started”

PART 1 of 2

#bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #haikyuu bokuto #hq bokuto #bokuto smut #msby bokuto #bokuto x you #shoyo hinata x reader #hinata shoyo #haikyuu shoyo #hq shoyo #shoyohinata #shoyo x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#haikyu smut

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durrtydawg · 9 months

Text

A Brief Encounter

(Sam Drake x F!Reader Smut)

You’d agreed not to give each other gifts this year, but after a rather crass Secret Santa gift from Sam at his brother’s Christmas party, it’d be rude not to return the favour. So, when he subtly beckons you to meet him into his brother’s airing cupboard, you’re all too happy to accept the invitation.

a/n: this isn't the best, and christmas is pretty much done and dusted, but i'm a bit low and it helped to write this, so I hope you enjoyyy!!

Word Count: 5.3k

WARNINGS: 18+, unprotected p in v, oral (f&m), friends with benefits type beat, erring on the 'too much' side of pining, but that's how i roll so sorry if that's not your jam. I have NOT proof read this fully, so there are bound to be mistakes but I am OVER it. Enjoy, lovelies x

Curiosity and anticipation mingle as you slip into the cramped space, closing the door as slowly and as discreetly as possible. You down the remainder of your amaretto and coke, placing the glass beside Sam as you wince at the unmixed alcohol that coats your tongue.

The moment the latch clicks, the same smirk he’d given you from across the room mere minutes ago returns as he swallows a mouthful of beer. "Fancy meeting you here," he quips, his voice low and provocative, the red tinsel draped over his shoulders offsetting a warm glow over his face. You don’t want to take him seriously.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” You scoff, leaning against the dryer as you’re enveloped by the smell of detergent and clean linen. “Crappy wrapping, tacky gift. I should’ve known you were my Secret Santa the moment it was handed over.”

“Alright, I can’t excuse the wrapping, but, I’ll have you know that these,” He removes a hand from the counter, pulling the offending garment from where it’s poking out of your skirt's pocket, catching you off guard and eliciting a quiet yelp from you as he slingshots the material against your forearm.

“Ow!” You attempt to smack his hand, but his reflexes are quick, and he swipes it out of reach just in time, placing a finger over your lips.

“Keep your squawking down.” He warns with a slightly sardonic half-smile, shaking his head towards the door. “These were not cheap. I don’t scrimp on my favourite girl.” He holds them up to the small lamp on the shelf behind him and you blush a little. “Plus, I just know it’s gonna look fantastic on you.” He shrugs, smug, and satisfied.

You roll your eyes, smirking as you adjust your volume. "Really, though, Samuel? ‘Ho ho ho’? A thong? Real smooth.”

His response accompanies a smug grin. "Well, I had to get you something that matches your…” He holds his beer just shy of his lips as he mulls over his thoughts for a second, “You.”

You snort in response, folding your arms as your brows raise, the two of you locking metaphorical, and very flirtatiously charged horns. “Oh! Well, in that case, we’ll have to get you a matching pair!”

He chuckles into his beer bottle, taking a swig before placing it beside him. He goads you with his look- a soft furrow of his brows that says ‘elaborate’.

“Dragging me into your brother’s airing cupboard in the middle of his impeccably planned Christmas party? Hardly the behaviour of someone who isn’t a… ‘ho ho ho’ themselves.” You feel yourself stifle a giggle- what a stupid conversation.

Ah, who gives a shit. You’re both tipsy, and you both know what’s about to happen.

Sam licks the remnants of his beer off of his lips, pushing himself away from the counter with an amused grin. His smug smile, a silent agreement, sets the stage for what both of you have been dancing around all night. The atmosphere becomes charged, filled with unspoken needs that have lingered in stolen glances and exchanged banter amongst a crowd of drunken acquaintances and giddy friends.

“You must be sorely mistaken, gorgeous.” He starts as his hands brace themselves onto the dryer, gently caging you in. “I wanted to help out my little brother by… folding towels. You know- keep him in the wife’s good books.”

In the intimate, shrunken space of the airing cupboard, the atmosphere thickens as his joke hangs between Sam and you, a veil of playfulness concealing the underlying, and oh so mouth-watering tension that’s coarsening your skin with goosebumps.

“Folding towels. That’s what we’re calling it now?” You grin, though your voice takes on a slightly lower tone as he leans over you. God, he smells fantastic.

The slight wrinkle in his navy t-shirt is a telltale sign that he’s obviously pulled it straight from the dryer and thrown it on as he left his apartment; but that damn jacket. Recently washed, yes, but never rid of that tinge of cigarette smoke that’s practically woven its way into the denim by now; a little aftershave spritzed over it as to not cause offence to those that despise his poor habit, accompanied by… him; A gentle amber muskiness diluted by the subtle red fruit scent that’s interwoven itself into him during his winter period of reluctant domesticity.

“Shame you’ve not got these on now, ya know.” He takes another look at the thong before abandoning it on the top of the washer, re-assuming his position over you. “Red’s definitely your colour. Always has been.”

His eyes make a show of their journey up and down your frame, and much to your own chagrin, you feel your face heat up even more. You should be used to this by now. Your little arrangement has been going on for almost a year. Yet every time, he’s got you blushing like a high school kid with a crush on their teacher.

Sam grins, shoulders jolting with a chuckle as he watches the redness spread across your cheeks.

“Aw. See? Adorable.”

“Stop it.” You chide, head turning to the side as you try to hide the consistent blush bleeding across your face. As if his ego needs to be given any more fuel.

“Stop what?” He smirks, knowing full-well what you mean. You frown. “Ohhh.” He over exaggerates, grinning wide as his head flops sideways in search of your face. “Making you blush? Doesn’t take much, does it?”

“No. I’m not gonna stop.” Sam's smug smile lingers, a subtle spark in his eyes made visible by the warm glow of the lamp. The air crackles with anticipation as he leans in, his lips brushing yours with a teasing tenderness that makes your hairs stand on end. His eyes are sly, and of course seductive, provoking you to lean in and close the gap. He’s offering the illusion of a situation where you get to take charge.

But he’s done this before, and things never go that way.

Not that you mind, of course.

Each passing second adds fuel to the simmering fire as you feel his thumbs grace your wrists at either side of you. You hold steady, your eyes narrowing towards his in a sort of stand off. You’re not going to cave first.

Though… it’s becoming more and more of a challenge as he leans further into you, your back pressed hard against the edge of the dryer as he imposes fully on your personal space. You can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

His head dips down, and you feel light stubble scratch against your jaw as he laughs softly, yet there’s still an undeniable smugness to it that makes your hands go clammy. “I intend to keep that blush of yours nice an’ vibrant for the foreseeable, sweetheart.”

And just like that, you’re butter in his hands. Melted butter, mind you- it’s fucking boiling in here.

You mutter a quiet “fuck sake” in a poor attempt at saving face, but as his lips press against the spot just beneath your ear, you know things are about to progress quickly- just like they always do when the two of you are alone. A few more pecks down your neck, and you breathe in; your nipples rub against your bra, and you exhale shakily as his teeth come into play. Sam removes his hands from your wrists, respectively taking a hold of your waist and your hair, keeping you pressed against him as he reddens your neck, bit by bit, and- God- the sight of him still wearing that jacket is making you feel like you’re in the depths of a furnace. He’s not even breaking a sweat. Bastard.

You find your hands weaving underneath the sherpa, clawing at his dark tee ’til you reach his shoulders. You tuck your hands underneath, and as if telepathy exists, he shunts the jacket off, along with the tinsel, lips still trailing a series of small bruises along your neck.

They fall to the floor, buttons clack-clattering against the washer behind him- dangerously loud whilst whatever song is playing outside seems to be in the midst of a quiet bridge- and you both break apart to stare at the door, wide-eyed and breathing heavily.

After a few butterfly-inducing seconds, a new song starts and someone whoops loudly- you’re safe.

Sam looks back at you with a relieved smile. It’s too innocent and uncharacteristic, so you push him off of the diving board, straight into the deep end; fingers tugging him down to your level by the scalp, using his slight moment of surprise to shove him back into the washer as your lips find his.

Sam's hands trace a path of yearning along your back; they dive under your tacky ‘tinsel tits’ sweater in search of skin, and as his calloused, scarred hands meet the smooth softness of your back, he hums quietly into you, as if he’s checked something off of a to-do list. You take it upon yourself to tick off another, and your free hand reaches down to give him a teasing squeeze through his jeans.

You both smirk in tandem, but as you one-handedly pull out his t-shirt’s French-Tuck- his lazy attempt at sprucing himself up- and your dexterous fingers unhook his belt buckle in one fell swoop, his smirk falters slightly.

Smugness now replaced by an urgent need, he pulls you tighter against him, and the air becomes charged with the electricity of your concealed connection as you unbutton his jeans. Your hand snakes past the zipper, thumb testing the waters with a teasing stroke over the fabric of his boxers as you push your tongue into his mouth. He tastes of nicotine that’s been drowned in alcohol, Nathan’s experimental lebkuchen, and a stick of cheap gum, and as your hand wraps around him completely, you cannot get enough.

Sam fights against your tongue with his own, brows scrunching every so often as you slowly pump his cock in your palm. Shutting him up is always pleasant, and always rare, so you savour every second, watching as a flush of his own begins to make an appearance across his cheeks. Two can play at that game, you think to yourself, your core seizing in anticipation.

A wandering hand squeezes at your ass under your skirt, and as you roll your thumb over his tip, you pull your lips from his, making sure to take in the sight of his growing arousal. You smile knowingly, your other hand freeing his hair so your thumb can swipe away saliva from his lips. You give him a gentle peck, made teasing by the smirk that accompanies it before you pull away from him and crouch slightly.

Pushing up his t-shirt a little, your smirk deepens as you take in the quick rise and fall of his stomach as he breathes fast in expectancy. You kiss him; a soft, open-mouthed peck over each scar, tongue rolling across the hair trailing along his belly, down lower, and lower, fingers pulling aside the waistband of his jeans.

Sam’s hands find purchase on the edge of the washing machine, eyes transfixed on you as you expose him, jeans pulled down just enough to give you access, but still modest enough for any hasty getaway that may be required.

You lower yourself fully to your knees, and the temperature is too much now. You pull off your sweater, placing it gently aside as you twist your hair into a makeshift pony, throwing it over a shoulder. He’s well-groomed. It’s almost as if he knew this was going to happen.

“Don’t be too quiet.” You look up at him. “I love hearing my pretty boy lose his composure.” You smile innocently, taking him in your hand again.

“Shut ya mouth. Calling’ me shit like that.” He laughs in response. The way his cheeks take on a soft pink hue sets you aflame; it’s evidence that his annoyance his feigned. He likes being called ‘shit like that’.

You giggle quietly, tongue licking a stripe up from his balls to his tip, before you let spit roll over your lower lip and onto him as Sam looks down at you with a neediness he’s only ever let you see. You move painfully slowly, lips parting enough to pull his head into your mouth, hands finding the outside of his thighs. He’s tense with anticipation, and your hands squeeze, before your throat envelopes his cock as far as you can take him.

Cheeks hollowed, you slowly retract, making him hiss as you gently graze your bottom teeth against his frenulum, before you retract completely.

“Do that again.” He breathes, knuckles pale.

“Ask nicely.” You grin, opening your mouth a little, hovering just in front of him.

“Christ.” He mutters, unable to wipe away his smile as he shakes his head, eyes closed. “Do that again, please.”

“Good boy.”

“Will you stop callin’ me th-ah-at, fuck!” He cuts himself off as you repeat the action, this time drawing a bead of salty-sweetness from him. You hum in satisfaction, feeling your own slick between your thighs as his hand instinctively grabs a hold of your hair.

As the next minute progresses, you hear Sam’s breathing gradually grow slightly more erratic, his hand unsteadily pushing your hair out of your face as the pace builds. Every now and then you flick your eyes upwards, relishing in the way he swallows in want, hips twitching occasionally as you involve your teeth- his breathy little pants make you want to keep this up forever, but you crave more.

You move particularly deep, and he bucks up; you feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag, eyes beginning to water instantly. You slide him out of your mouth as you take in air, and whilst it takes a whole lot of willpower for him not to push himself back into your throat, he instead tucks himself away and comes down to your level with an apology and a chuckle, cupping your jaw as you pull yourself together.

“Hate it when you do that.”

“It’s a good thing I did,” He breathes, “Don’t think this would’ve lasted as long as I’d want it to if you kept going.”

You laugh whilst Sam’s eyes follow the trickle of drool slowly rolling down your chin. He’s suddenly in a world of his own, barely registering what you’re saying before his tongue gathers the spit off of your skin, pushing it back into your mouth, your back hitting against the cool metal of the dryer as he kisses you; stubble grazes almost painfully against your face, but you don’t give a shit. Sam takes a rushed pause to rest his forehead against yours as he looks down at your chest; heaving, ripe for the picking.

You can only squeak as he grabs hold of you, hoisting you to your feet before propping you back up onto the top of the dryer. You almost fall back from the haste of it all, but with his hands on your lower back, you’re relatively stable again.

You groan as his hands grab your breasts, kneading them with a ferocity that sends your pulse skyrocketing. His eyes flit to yours, and he gives you an warning grin before his hands snake behind you and unhook your bra. You gasp, mildly irritated that he’d expose you so thoughtlessly whilst you’d taken every care to preserve him from any embarrassment that could occur from an innocent party-goer accidentally infiltrating the unlocked airing cupboard.

“These are magnificent.” He preens, and you roll your eyes with a scoff.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen them before.”

“Been a while. God.”

“Did you just lick your lips? What are you, fourteen?”

“Look, doll, you know me. I’m a simple guy. I see a good pair’a tits, and I start to salivate. Now shut up.”

You huff in amused shock, but as Sam’s tongue goes for your nipple, you force yourself to swallow down a small gasp. A lick turns into a suck, which turns into a bite, and you have to cover your mouth to stop yourself from yelping out in pained pleasure as his teeth apply pressure to the sensitive spot, tugging as he looks up at you deviously. He lets go, and you let out a sharp breath, glaring at him.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” You chastise, panting a little as he pinches your neglected nipple, the roughness of his thumb and forefinger making you squeeze your thighs together in response to the action.

He gives you a toothy grin, pupils blown out; eyes darkened by impertinence as he chooses not to respond. God, he drives you mad.

As Sam takes a moment to look at you again, his smugness gives way to an unseated hunger, his lips briefly seeking yours again with a precision born of familiarity. He smooths his hands up your legs, pulling his lips away, eyes flitting between each one as he squeezes your thighs.

And all of a sudden, your heart is palpitating hard. You’re soaked- that much is certain, but you’re also slightly afraid of the concept of him stripping you completely bare without so much as a lock from keeping you from being walked in on. Perhaps you should’ve thought this through. Perhaps you shouldn’t be-

“Sam!” You whisper-yell as the ripping of fabric snatches you from your thoughts.

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He replies, completely unbothered by your reaction, the new hole torn into your tights right between your thighs giving him an almost completely unrestricted view he’s been waiting for. “Jesus Christ. Haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re wet through.”

“I will kick you.”

“Nah, you won’t.” He shoots a complacent grin up at you, before hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the dryer with a quick yank that has your eyes widen momentarily.

You sigh shakily, bracing yourself on your forearms as he comes back to antagonise your chest.

Your gaze fixes on Sam, who looks up at you with a teasing smile as he pushes your thigh aside, deft tongue swirling and flicking around your nipple in a way that makes your lips part with quickened breaths; the signalling of your growing want couldn’t possibly get any clearer. The playful glint in his eyes mirrors the deriding movement of his lips, and for a moment, the laughter, music, and clinking glasses outside the intimate space you’re sharing muffles into the background.

His fingers, warm and skilful, navigate the contours of your skin through your thin tights with a gentle caress. The intention is clear—a slow, tantalising exploration that builds mutual desire with every inch of you that’s covered, and as he finally strokes a thumb over your covered core, sending a soft mewl spilling from your lips, a switch flips in his brain. Playfulness starts to deepen into a smouldering gaze, reminding you of his undeniable hunger beneath the friendship on the surface. As he pulls aside the material and starts to coat his fingers in your slick, it’s all too clear that his movements are deliberate, each touch purposeful, as if he's savouring the anticipation as much as the final destination.

He wants you. But he wants you to need him more. Sam wasn’t lying when he said you’re his ‘favourite girl’.— he adores you, and he wants to give you everything he can through his body that he can’t bring himself to give you through caged in commitment. As a result, he’s not afraid to take his time- time to pretend that this is more than the ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement you’d forged way back when. He doesn’t give anyone else this kind of time. He doesn’t want to.

You're caught between the thrill of the unexpected and the familiarity of Sam's touch. Every stroke and every red blotch left on your skin feels like a shared rebellion against the constraints of everything else life has to offer. He bites you again, and you buck your hips in response, brows furrowing as a quiet hiss pushes through your teeth. Your nails claw against the edge of the dryer, and as he effortlessly slides two fingers knuckle deep inside you, your grip falters slightly.

The hand on your waist tightens, and one of yours goes for the back of his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, head rolling back as you try to stop yourself from moaning. He hooks his fingers, rubbing back and forth against your sweet spot in quick, repetitive motions, whilst his thumb flicks against your clit. Your breathing grows heavier, and you struggle to keep quiet as he releases your nipple from his mouth with a gentle ‘pop’.

The fire in your lower belly is burning stronger with each passing second, and you clasp your lip between your teeth as he adds a third digit— the stretch forcing a groan bubbling out of your throat as he laughs softly at the sight of you leaking onto the back of his hand. This time you’re unable to keep it down.

You’re sopping, and so damn tight at this angle— Sam feels his cock twitch with need as he feels you contract around him, the sensation of your nails scratching gently against his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair giving him goosebumps of his own. He loves the way you sound; the wetness, your unsteady breathing, and your quiet, raspy little moans— even more so knowing that you’re trying and failing to restrain yourself.

“Ohh— shit.” you gasp as his thumb speeds up, stimulating your clit to the point where your breath gets caught in your throat. You’re not far from the edge, but he’s not ready for that yet. Neither are you.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you, and you exhale, a desperate look in your eyes as the emptiness hurts.

He presses his forehead to yours, gently nudging his nose against yours in a display of affection that forces a shy smile from you. His eyes flit to your lips, and back up to your eyes, and just before you take it as a silent invitation to kiss him, his hand is brought up from between your thighs. Your cheeks heat up at the sight of his glistening fingers as he hovers them just in front of your chin.

“Open up.” He whispers, lips tugged into a cocky half-smile. You’re more than happy to oblige, and as your lips part, he slides two slick-covered fingers into your mouth, your tongue lapping up the sticky sweetness as he fixates on your mouth for a moment.

Without so much as looking back up at you, he mutters “My turn.”

As you continue to taste yourself on his skin, Sam gets to his knees, free hand holding a thigh to one side before it moves aside the soaked material of your underwear again.

“So so pretty.” He mutters, voice gruff, eyes ravenous as he takes in the sight of you; glistening, ready. All for him. All because of him. He leans in, hand keeping you exposed as he pulls his fingers from between your lips, instead choosing to keep you wide open for him. His tongue scoops you up, from the bottom of your folds up to your swollen clit, and you shudder, fingers instinctively tightening in his hair as you look down at him.

Sam goes again, this time sucking the sensitive bud in order to draw out a noise from you. You hum; high pitched and needy, leaning your coccyx against the dryer as you spread your legs open a little further.

He groans into you, fingers digging into the fullness of your thighs as his tongue moves; slow and deliberate, as if every stroke, every lick, every bite is a carefully composed note in a well-practiced symphony. The taste of you spurs him on, and through the feeling of your thighs involuntarily tightening around his head as he begins to devour you like you’re the first meal he’s eaten in days, and the slight tug you give his hair every few seconds, a blend of mischief and longing and lust takes him over.

You’re a mess, flustered, muffled moans and curses spilling into your hand, your bare chest heaving as he becomes more unrestrained; he can’t get close enough to you, his nose rubs against your clit while his tongue snakes inside you, pretty, dark eyes flicking up to see the effect that he’s having on you every so often.

You could do this all day. So could he. But you’re approaching your peak far too quickly, and whilst his tongue feels wonderful, you want more. You want him inside you when you finish— you want him to feel what he’s done to you in the most intimate way possible.

“Sam?” You rasp, tugging at his hair slightly harder. “F-fuck, Sam, s—stop.” You tug a little harder, and you whimper as you feel his breath fan over you as he reluctantly allows you to pull him away from your sensitive cunt.

He swallows, chest heaving as he takes in air. “You okay?” He asks, brows furrowed, nose, lips, and chin coated in a glistening layer of your arousal. You have to give yourself a moment to take it in. This is far from the first time you’ve seen him like this, but each time you do, you feel yourself fall in deeper. You nod, hand moving to the back of his neck, drawing him into you. Your lips press against his again, and as his tongue dives into your mouth, sharing with you the tangy sweetness he’s obsessed with, you pull his cock into his other hand. Your thumb smooths over the dribble of pre-cum that’s seeping out of him, and you pump him in your hand a few times just to feel how hard he is. He huffs out through his nose as you squeeze him gently, and as you rub him against your dripping pussy, his arms tighten around you.

You line him up, edging yourself forwards just enough for his tip to breach you, and as he swallows down a quiet moan, you peel your mouth from his and get him to look at you. “You know I love you, right?” You breathe, thumb stroking the bridge of his nose as he looks at you with parted lips.

“I know you love me.” He says, just a little louder than a whisper. He pushes into you, a cuss sighed into your neck as he tucks his head beside you. You swallow a moan as he stills, nestled into you as deep as he can, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he gives you a moment to adjust, and him to embrace.

You laugh, quiet and breathy into the shell of his ear. “I know you do.” You say, pressing a kiss just behind his ear as he drags himself part-way out of you. He rocks himself back into you, hips rolling gently as he begins to build a gentle rhythm. He doesn’t want to come just yet. He wants to savour this. To enjoy this perfect glimpse into the normal life he’s never wanted. He loves you. He loves you so much, but he can’t give you everything you want, so you both settle for stolen moments like these.

He quickens the pace ever so slightly, and as he continues to litter the delicate skin of your neck with deep pink nips and wet speckles your eyes close. You cradle his head in your arms as his thrusts grow a little harsher, and he hums out soft, vulnerable moans that make his closeness to his peak all the more evident.

“So good t’me.” He murmurs into your neck as he slots a hand between you, blindly searching for your clit with shaky fingers.

You cry out into his shoulder as he finds it, and you cling onto him with all of your might as he fucks you with more intensity with each passing second.

He grips onto your lower back as he continues to groan into your neck— he pulls you into him with such intensity that every small bruise developing on your chest is stimulated as your tits are crushed harshly against his t-shirt.

Sam goes deeper, sweeter, and your eyes water as he squeezes your clit almost desperately. You grunt, the coil in your abdomen tightening and tightening with each passing second, eyes squeezing shut as he gives up concentrating on your neck, collapsing into the crook of it altogether.

He breathes heavily, grunting as you bite into his shoulder to suppress a scream as you completely lose yourself. You convulse in his arms, your pussy spasming around his cock as you feel your orgasm crash over you, muffled expletives and Sam’s name spilling mindlessly from you as you feel nothing but white hot pleasure. The coil releases, and you fall limp in his grasp as you begin to milk his own orgasm out of him.

“G—God,” He groans, hand snatched from between you as he braces himself against you. He keeps moving as you feel hot ropes of cum fill you, leaning back just enough to see it dribble out of you and onto him.

He stills, foreheads touching again as you catch your breath. You feel his eyebrows scrunch and unscrunch as his breathing slowly becomes steadier, and the intensity of your respective climaxes dim into a soft afterglow.

You feel a hand stroke against your jaw, and he huffs out a laugh as you smile.

“Hi.” He whispers.

“Hey.” Your responding laugh quickly dissipates into a wince as he slides out of you.

He sniffs, with a smile to mirror your own. “Perhaps I should’ve gotten you a towel instead of that thing.” He shakes his head towards the Secret Santa gift lying abandoned on the washer behind him, and you snort.

“Hmm. I mean you could always use them as a cum rag.”

“Love it when you talk all ladylike.” He jokes. “Christmas isn’t over til New Years, the way I see it, so you’ve got plenty of time to model them for me before they’re allowed to be used for something so…menial.”

You shove him playfully, hopping off of the dryer, legs wobbling slightly as you get used to being on the ground again. He throws you your bra and sweater, which you throw on as he relocates his jacket.

You rake your fingers through your hair in hopes that it still looks relatively presentable and suitably covers your thoughtfully gifted hickey-patchwork, before you swipe up the thong and walk over to the door.

“Gonna... take a stealth walk to the bathroom.” You clear your throat, smiling as you rest a hand over the handle.

He nods in response, a half, and slightly coy smile on his lips. As you twist the handle, he gets your attention with a quick “Hey”.

You turn, raising an expectant brow. He clears his throat, nodding as if he’s reassuring himself about something.

“You… you know I love ya too, yeah?”

You smile, taking in the slight nervousness in his eyes. “I know you do. Despite these.” You swing the red monstrosity around your finger before bunching it up and shoving it into your skirt pocket. You give him an endearingly sweet wink, opening the door slowly, exposing the room to the bass boost of Nate’s festive playlist and someone’s dreadful karaoke attempt.

“See you out there?”

He chuckles as he watches you check that the coast is clear. God, he adores you.

“See you out there.”

I love him a normal amount.

#sam drake #uncharted #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #samuel drake smut #reeEEHe

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ythankucaptainmccoy · 16 days

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The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch12

WARNING: Character harm, blood, hospitals, ranch hands being protective, hurt, comfort, trust building and fluff.

Jake didn’t even pack a bag as he booked a flight to Austin and a rental car for when he landed. Bradley even volunteered to take him to the airport. “When you get there tell her we miss her here, and you better apologize on your knees because she won’t accept anything less”, Bradley said. “I will do anything and everything to get her back”, Jake replied. Bradley watched as Jake fidgeted in the passenger seat and he decided to speed a little to get him to the airport.

Once Jake made it into the airport he went through security and ran to the gate only to realize he had to wait thirty more minutes before he could board the plane. He tried your cell phone several times but it would ring before rolling to voicemail. He begged and pleaded for you to give him another chance that he would do anything for you. Even admitting he would go AWOL from the Navy if he had to.

They announced boarding and to Jake it felt like the longest boarding he had ever sat through. You on the other hand were helping Bull and the other ranch hands brand and castrate the young calves. “Nothing like being outdoors and working like this huh”, he said. “I wouldn’t mind having a ranch like this one day”, you replied. Bull noticed how happy you were and he knew that even though you loved Jake you would be okay.

It was late afternoon by the time you got done and the guys were setting up to cook some dinner. “I’m gonna walk Rebel down to the creek”, you told Bull. “Don’t be gone too long once these guys get the food done they don’t hesitate to eat it all”, Bull jokes. You nodded and walked the mile to let Rebel cool off and get a drink. While there you noticed someone walking down the creek. You figured it was one of the guys coming back from getting cleaned up in the creek as you relaxed.

Jake had just made it to his sisters front door where he knocked incessantly. Evelynn opened the door with a frown on her face and a glare in her eye. “What do you want?”, she asked. “I need to talk to (Y/N)”, Jake explained. “And you think she came here? Even if she was here, why would I tell my jackass of a brother where she was?”, she scolded. “I know she’s here and I have to get her back, Ev. Ever since breaking up with her all I see when I close my eyes is her. I hear her in my dreams and I messed up. I’ll get down on my knees for her. I know now that the photo was all a trick and I should have let her explain”, Jake rushed.

Evelynn had never seen her brother so distraught, not even when he found the girl he was planning on marrying was cheating on him. “She isn’t here right now, but she’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Until then you better think about what you’re going to say to her”, Evelynn said. Jake was at a loss so he walked out to the barn where he found your cot with your duffle bag. He noticed a picture poking out of the bag and when he pulled it out he noticed it was a picture of him.

It was an old photo of when he had just joined the Navy, and he knew that Evelynn had given it to you. It was nice to know you still somewhat cared about him. You were taken by surprise when the person that had been walking stopped beside you. “Hey (Y/N) long time, but I told you that I was going to take you back home”, the person said. You knew that voice right away and when you looked up there stood Jackson pointing a gun at you. “Look I don’t want any trouble”, you said. “Well I just wanted you to come home and now I have to resort to making you come home”, he says grabbing your arm.

You automatically let Rebel go and slapped him to get him to run. To your relief he started heading back to the camp. Bull was helping put more wood on the fire when Rebel came running into the camp. When Bull grabbed a hold of him his eyes were wide and seemed panicked. He knew something was wrong, Rebel wouldn’t have left you otherwise. He told the boys to mount up as he was the first to saddle up and ride off.

Jackson was dragging you along the creek when you could hear a horse approaching. Before you could distinguish whose horse or who was coming you heard a cry and before you understood you hit the ground hard. When you were able to find your feet Bull had leapt from his horse and tackled Jackson to the ground. They were scrapping and Bull was winning until Jackson pistol whipped him. Jackson got up pointing the gun at him when you leapt into action.

You had just hit Jackson when the gun went off the first time. You fell on top of him as you both scrapped knowing now that this was life or death. You could hear the rest of the ranch hands on their horses approaching as you continued. You reached for the gun in Jackson’s hand when it went off and you felt the burning in your abdomen. Jackson pushed you off of him and ran, but one of the ranch hands lassoed his foot bringing him down hard as the gun went flying out of his hands.

Bull was by your side in a second as you could hear Jackson yelling for the guys to unhand him. “You're hurt”, you told Bull. He had some blood coming down from his gray hair. “Hun you’re worse than I am. Someone give me their shirt and ride hard and as fast as you can for the house to get help. They might have to call in the airlift!”, Bull bellowed. A shirt was handed to him when you looked down to see the blood soaking your shirt. “This is gonna hurt hun, but I got ya’. Hold on”, Bull soothed. He used the shirt to put pressure on the wound as you cried out and grabbed his arm.

“Boss, what do you want us to do with him?”, one of the ranch hands asked. “Rough ‘im up”, Bull growled. That’s all they needed to hear as Jackson started screaming for you to help him. Jake was talking with Colton when one of the youngest ranch hands came riding in like his ass was on fire. “There’s been an accident (Y/N)’s been shot and Bull said she might need an airlift to the hospital”, the young man rushed. Jake felt his blood go ice cold as the ranch hand told them what field they were in.

Colton called for emergency services and explained as he handed Jake his truck keys. “They are sending emergency services”, Colton relayed. He told Jake where to go and when the ranch hands came into view he saw you laying on the ground. He barely put the truck in park as he ran to you. “(Y/N) darlin’ I’m so sorry”, Jake said as he kneeled beside you. Somebody had put their saddle under your head to keep you somewhat comfortable.

“Jake what are you doin’ here?”, you asked. “I’m here because I messed up. I was coming to beg you to take me back. I know now that I should have listened to you when you tried to explain about the photo. I’m a jackass and I love you”, he tells you. The whole time he is stroking your hair and crying. He worries as you start looking tired and too pale. “I love you too. I never stopped loving you even after everything that happened”, you sigh. He sits with you as you start to feel weaker and weaker.

“Jake”, you whisper. “Yeah darlin’ “, he replies. “I feel cold and tired”, you admit. “You gotta hold on darlin’ the ambulance is on its way. You have to hold on for me. I can’t live without you please hold on”, he panics. Bull is on your other side as you glance at him and notice even he is crying. The ambulance finally arrives as they get out to assess you. Jake insists on riding with you in the ambulance as they load you up.

“Jake”, you whimper. “I’m right here darlin’ I’m not goin’ anywhere”, he tells you. “Jake I’m scared”, you say right before you slip into unconsciousness. Jake loses it at that moment as sobs take hold of him. The EMT tries to assure him that your pulse is strong as he checks the blood bag he had hung up. Jake is overwhelmed at this point and everything is a blur as he walks into the ER and nurses have to hold him back as you're rushed to surgery.

Bull and the others wait for the police to show up and when they do Jackson is in need of a hospital as well, but once the officers hear what happened they insist on taking everyones statement on what happened. When they find that he has a restraining order they automatically read him his rights and take him into custody. Colton, Evelynn and Bull show up at the hospital where Jake is sitting in the waiting room pacing.

“Jake I’m sure she is gonna be fine son”, Bull tells him. Evelynn tries to get him to sit down as Colton tries to get him to talk. Hours go by when a doctor comes to the waiting room to find them. “How is she please tell me she is going to be okay I can’t lose her”, Jake pleads. “She is going to be just fine. The bullet was removed and internal bleeding dealt with. She is still asleep but I can allow at least one family member back to see her”, the doctor announces. “I’m her husband”, Jake blurts.

The doctor raises a brow, but walks him back to the room you’re in. He pulls a chair up to your bedside and pulls your hand into his. He doesn’t know how long he sits there just watching to make sure you’re still breathing, but eventually he falls asleep. When you open your eyes you notice that you're in a hospital room and that your abdomen is painful remembering being shot. Then you look to your right to see Jake sitting in a chair slumped on your bed fast asleep. You also notice that your hand is in his and you can’t help but smile.

A nurse comes in to check on you and make sure that the morphine drip is doing okay. “Your husband was so worried about you. Paced in the waiting room the whole time you were in surgery and hasn’t left your side since he came in here”, she says. “That sounds like him”, you croak. “Here honey, let's get you some water. Ya’ sound parched”, she tells you. The nurse pours you some water and hands it to you making sure you have it before letting go. You drink enough to wet your dry throat as she sets it back on the small rolling tray. “I’m going to come back in a little while to check on you”, she tells you.

After she leaves you squeeze Jake’s hand and call to him softly. He stirs and wakes immediately looking up to lock eyes with you. Tears fill his eyes as he lets out a relieved sigh, “I thought I was gonna’ lose you”. “Oh, well I couldn’t leave my husband”, you tease. He smiled and got up to kiss you. You reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Here I am crying while you're comforting me when it should be the other way around”, he says. “I’m fine you look like a wreck. How did you know where I was?”, you ask.

“Well Penny after hearing me confess that I would beg on my knees to get you back told me where you were”, he says. “Well I’m glad she told you and for the record I will wait for you to beg on your knees”, you say. “I get it if you want some space”, he says. “I think we have spent enough time apart”, you reply. “I hope you can forgive me”, he says. “It might take a while, but I’m sure I can in time”, you tell him.

“I can live with that. Oh Rooster wanted me to tell you that they all miss you”, Jake says. “I should probably call them and let them know what happened”, you yawn. “Don’t worry about that now darlin’. Right now you need to rest up”, he tells you. You both sit and talk as Jake tells you how he found out that the picture was set up, and you tell him about working on the ranch. He listens intently as you talk until you start yawning.

“Get some rest, I'll be here when you wake up”, he tells you. You fall asleep quickly as he watches you for a while before catching some more sleep himself. The next day Evelynn came up to visit and bring Jake some clothes since he came without any. The room you were staying in had a shower, but Jake would only get in long enough to wash his body and hair. Your stay in the hospital was a week to make sure you were healing properly.

When it came to leaving the hospital you swore Jake was worse than a mother hen with new chicks. He helped you into the truck that Evelynn and Colton had lent to him. Then he drove ten miles per hour under the speed limit. “Jake honey you can drive the speed limit. The doctor discharged me and said as long as I don’t lift anything until the sutures come out I’ll be alright”, you protest. “Absolutely not, these roads are bumpy and I will not risk hurting you”, he replied. You roll your eyes as he continues to be passed by angry drivers.

When you finally make it to the ranch you tear up when you see that Colton, Evelynn, Annabelle, Georgia, Bull and the rest of the ranch hands are there to welcome you back. Bull gives you a hug much to Jake’s worry as he rants about being careful. “He’s worse than my wife God rest ‘er soul. She used to fuss over the smallest things”, Bull laughed. You laughed along until pain caused you to stop and slightly double over. “See this is why you should rest”, Jake said.

“I’ll be fine”, you tell him. He continues to watch you to make sure you aren’t over exerting yourself. After everyone welcomes you back Evelynn goes to cook dinner as you offered to help. “Now I hate to be like my brother, but I feel you should sit down and relax. I do have a job that requires sitting down”, Evelynn says. You follow her to the kitchen where she has potatoes that need peeling. Jake had followed you both in as you felt like you were suffocating. “Honey I think I can sit and peel potatoes without a problem”, you told Jake.

Annabelle came into the kitchen being careful not to hurt you as she hugged you. “I’m happy that you’re okay”, she says. Georgia comes toddling in and climbs right into your lap as Jake tenses. “Wuv you aunt (Y/N)” Georgia said. That brought tears to your eyes as you hugged her then asked her if she wanted to help peel the potatoes. She excitedly clapped her hands as Evelynn handed you the potato peeler.

Jake finally relented and walked out with Annabelle to find something to do as she pulled at his hand. “I swear he has done nothing but hover since I got shot”, you say. “Pray you don’t get pregnant anytime soon”, Evelynn laughs. “Oh I could only imagine how that would go”, you snort. “I know my brother is a jackass, but he does have a heart of gold”, she replies. “I still love him, but I can’t forgive him just yet”, you whispered. “I understand me and Colton had a moment like that. It took some time, but we overcame it eventually. Now we can laugh about it”, Evelynn confides.

You smiled at that then giggled a little when Georgia got impatient waiting for you to help her with the next potato. Once dinner was done Jake made your plate bringing it to the table for you. You leaned over and kissed his cheek thanking him for being there for you. He seemed to be more relaxed now than he had been all week. “We need to head back to San Diego, but I don’t know if you can handle the drive”, Jake announced.

“I’m fit for travel besides you can drive my truck this time. Now I’ll admit it isn’t as fancy as yours”, you reply. The next couple of days Bull helps you pack up your gear, and you start to cry. “What’s wrong hun?”, Bull questions. “You’re the closest thing I have had to a father since I lost mine and I hate goodbyes”, you cry. “Oh hun you’re gonna’ be just fine and if ya’ ever need anything I’m gonna’ be right here on this ranch”, he sniffles. “I thought old cowboys don’t cry”, you laugh through your tears.

He laughs along with you as Jake comes to make sure you’re ready to head back to San Diego. You had already gotten a doctor appointment set up for a check up back in San Diego so you were ready. After hugging everybody and saying goodbye you and Jake hit the road. You received a phone call from the police asking when you could give a statement. You explained that you were going to be staying in San Diego and the officer took down your information so they could come to you.

“I’m probably going to have to testify at the trial”, you say. “I’ll come with you as long as I’m not on deployment and I guarantee that Bull will go with you if I can’t”, Jake replies. The rest of the ride is calm other than the frequent stops that Jake was taking. He told you it was to get snacks or bathroom breaks, but you know that he is trying to make sure you are okay. Jake eventually books a hotel since he wanted to make sure you got the rest you needed.

When you arrive at the hotel you call Bradley to let him know what has been happening while Jake goes out to get food. When you tell him about what had happened he loses his mind. He continues to ask if you’re okay and starts to sound like Jake. The only way you get off the phone with him is telling him you need rest as directed by your doctor. When Jake comes back with food you let him know about telling Bradley.

“Great I bet he is going to hate me even more now”, Jake says. “Honestly I told him that you're a helicopter boyfriend and he agreed that you should be right now”, you laugh. Jake just stares at you as you open your bag of food until you notice him staring. “What?”, you ask. “You called me your boyfriend”, he says. “Well the way I see it I never broke up with you”, you smile. In one swift moment Jake is sitting beside you pulling you in to kiss you.

“I love you so much. I made the dumbest mistake of my life when I did what I did”, Jake rambles. “I love you too, but you're taking the couch tonight”, you tell him. You hadn’t let him sleep in bed with you as a sort of punishment and he had obliged without protest. You have had some time to heal, but you want to see if he is serious about you. After staying in the hospital and how he has been by you since then it wasn’t going to take long to convince you he was all in.

That night he slept on the couch as you took time to think about the last couple of months. Even with him being on a couch, but in the same room brings you comfort. The next morning when you wake up Jake is sitting at the small table with breakfast. “Why didn’t you wake me?”, you ask. “You need rest and you looked peaceful”, he tells you. You smile as you get up and sit beside him to eat. Jake waited for you to finish up then went to the front to check out once he got you to the truck.

While sitting in the truck you could see Jake peeking through the doors checking on you. You smile when he comes out looking absolutely gorgeous in his jeans and t-shirt. When he gets in and starts driving you scoot to the middle and buckle up. It feels like forever, but eventually you both make it to the apartments. You are both tired and before you know it arms wrapped around you and you could smell Bradley’s cologne.

“Bradley”, you laugh. He pulls away and asks how you feel, to which you respond. Jake waits patiently as you both catch up. When there is a lull in conversation Jake makes his move. “I know you probably haven’t thought about it, but where are you wanting to stay?”, Jake asks. Bradley looks to you waiting for your answer before Bradley takes you aside. “(Y/N), I know that what he did was wrong, but he has been a mess around here without you”, Bradley confides. You look back to Jake as he watches the ocean while you talk with Bradley.

“You wouldn’t be upset if I go back to staying with him?”, you ask. “It’s your decision”, he tells you. You ponder it for a moment then smile as you realize that even though he had hurt you, you had missed everything about Jake. “Even though he hurt me I still love him. He has some trust building to do, but he is making up for it. I mean he never left my side at the hospital”, you say. Bradley respects your decision as you hug him and head back over to Jake. “Bring me home cowboy”, you grin. Jake smiles and it feels as though the last couple days fade away.

Once inside Jake helps you get ready for bed like he has for the last couple of days. Everything smells like him and your tension just melts away. He goes to walk back towards the living room when you call out to him, “Where are you goin?”. “The couch I figured you would want your space”, he replies. “Not tonight Jake I want you here with me tonight”, you reply. He hesitates at first until you pat the other side of the bed. The apartment is quiet as you both settle in to sleep.

#top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #dagger squad

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slasher-male-wife · 11 months

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Only his: Bo Sinclair x GN reader

I got a domestic Bo fluff idea and after deleting my initial idea I got something I'm so excited to share with y'all. This is pure romantic fluff about Bo so if you're an angst lover sit this one out.

Warnings: Brief mention of religion and brief mention of violence

It’s a quiet morning. A rare day Bo decided to just take off completely. He’s always doing something around town or luring in victims but today he’s completely free. You’re free with him too. Today is a day where you can just breathe and love and relax. You’re watching the sun rise from your window as you lay on Bo’s chest. He often pulls you close to him after he has a nightmare. It took awhile before he even admitted he intentionally pulled you over to him, but he can’t deny it now.

“You know I picked up a copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ from a victim’s bag. It made me think about marriage. I know you’re not the most religious person but I think marriage sounds nice.” You say softly, running your hands over your hair to push it out of your face. “I always had fantasies about a beautiful wedding when I was younger. I guess I just got reminded of it when I picked up that book.”

Bo stays silent but he runs his hand up then down your back, repeating this motion over and over again. You can tell he’s listening to you. He won’t admit it ever but he’s a big softie for you now. You’ve worn him down to a point he can be a bit more open with you.

“I never thought I was gonna get married. I just never thought I’d have anything past a one night stand or a friend with benefits. But marriage does sound nice.” You chuckle and look up at him from where you’re laying.

“I forgot how much of a manwhore you were before you met me.” You say teasingly. The first time you ever called Bo a manwhore he didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day until you apologized. Lester told you one time he called Bo a man whore and Bo almost broke his arm when he twisted it, granted that was when Bo was 20. But now Bo laughs and pushes your head down on his chest to shut you up.

You laugh too and move your head to the side again to watch that sunrise. It’s silent in the house, but a comforting silence. It’s a time where you don’t have to worry about any victims walking in and interrupting you. Either of his brothers pulling him away for something. This time belongs to you and him, this time is yours to share. This time with him is more valuable than anything you can own. This time and love is yours, truly and wholly yours to share with him.

“If things were different Bo, I’d love to marry you. I’d marry you with no ring, I’d marry you even if we couldn’t have a ceremony, I’d marry you no matter what.” You pause for a moment and wrap your arms around his neck, “I love you.” Bo pauses.

“I love ya too.” He whispers, almost like the words are too valuable to share with anyone but you.

A week later you’re sitting with Bo in his shop while you flip absentmindedly through a magazine. You have developed a routine over the almost two years you’ve been living with Bo. Every time he comes in here to work on this car you join him. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you help him. You’ve actually learned a lot about cars through this.

But today isn’t any different. Bo is mumbling something to himself and he eventually sets down the tool he was using.

“I need some grease. Do ya mind gettin’ that jar in the back for me darlin’?” Bo asks, wiping off his hands. You get up from where you’re sitting and you shake your head.

“Not at all.” You say before walking into the back of the shop and searching for the jar he was talking about. You’ve practically memorized where everything in the shop is at this point. But today you can’t seem to find where this jar is. You look around the whole back, then again, and again, and on your fourth time looking around you still can’t find it.

“Come on, where are you?” You check behind the shelves and boxes and in every possible place this could be and you still can’t find that damn jar. You groan and give up before walking back over to Bo, “I don’t know if it just decided to leave or something but the jar is,” You notice Bo’s hands are surprisingly clean and he seems a bit nervous, “gone.”

Bo doesn't show that he’s nervous, or most of his emotions really. It took him months to even tell you when he was feeling upset. While he doesn’t look nervous, you can tell he’s nervous. He walks over to you and presses a kiss on the top of your head.

“You know I’m not good with words.” He says, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a ring. “I remember what you said before. I know my mama would’ve loved you. I want you to marry me.” He says, holding up the ring to show you. A large, toothful grin grows on your face and you nod your head, positioning your hand so he can put the ring on.

He slides it on and it’s a little loose, but you can’t even tell because of how strong your heart beat is. Your eyes start to water and you look down at the ring.

“Oh come on now don’t cry.” He says with a chuckle, trying to downplay the moment. You playfully swat his chest and look up at him, your smile still wide.

“I…You’re…This…” You say as you try to gather up your words but all you can do is wrap your arms around Bo and start to cry happily into his shoulder. You feel his arms wrap around you too and that just makes you cry even harder. “All I want is to be yours. Even when you’re gone I’ll still be yours.” You say, your smile quivering with your tears.

“It’s funny you think death can get you out of this relationship.” Bo says with a chuckle. You swat his back this time and look at your ring again. The world is too small for the amount of love you feel for your husband. The world is too small for someone as lovely as him.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x gender neutral reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

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jo-harrington · 3 months

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Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 1 - Firsts

Summary: The boys' first official practice together has a bit of a bumpy start.

Word Count: 669 (nice)

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Friendship, angst, mentions of FOI, Freak #3 is named Dave in my universe.

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you don’t start on Day 1, you can still join! <3 Thanks @thisapplepielife for organizing, this event is going to be so fun!

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

There was tension in the air.

Tension and maybe a little bit of BO. It was the last stretch of summer, after all, and they were four teenage boys standing in a garage.

The setup wasn't bad though, and Mrs. Emerson had set up a card table full of snacks and drinks in the corner.

"Alright," Gareth cleared his throat awkwardly. "So do we want to eat first or should we just get right to it?"

Jeff's head turned to Eddie, immediately deferring to the leader of the band for the final say, and the other two were quick to follow suit.

And in that moment, Eddie faltered.

No matter how excited they'd all been discussing this in the cafeteria the other day, it still felt wrong. Like something was missing.

There was no Ronnie.

No Dougie.

And no more second chances when it came to his friends.

Eddie looked down at his feet and let his sneakers shuffle against the smooth concrete floor as feelings of self-doubt crashed into him.

What if he fumbled it all again? What if he let them down? What if their sound really wasn't as good as Corroded Coffin's had been the first time around? At least they had something then; this was new, this was fresh, this was different.

Even worse, what if he tried to push them to be better and they just thought he was chasing after the fame game again? Even though he'd sworn to himself that if they were going to do this, they were going to do it right.

He hadn't exactly done much to earn anyone's trust back yet; a summer wasn't gonna undo all of the bullshit he'd put his friends through.

Eddies thoughts--his fears--grew and grew until they were just a buzzing drone in his head and there was a tight, anxious grip on his heart that made him feel like he was about to pass out.

"You know," Jeff spoke up after a few short, painfully quiet moments, "the first time I picked up a guitar to play with you and Dougie and Ronnie, you told me I sucked."

Eddie's head snapped up and he watched acrooked smile grow on Jeff's face.

He remembered those early day, before Jeff was officially part of the band. He said that he wanted to learn guitar he would give anything to sit in on their practices. Showed up the next day with an old out-of-tune fender and no idea what a chord was.

"I didn't have callouses yet so I kept having to stop for a break," Jeff massaged his fingers, remembering the phantom pains. "Then I got frustrated when I wasn't getting any of the things you showed me. I almost gave up, actually. I wasn't gonna show up for the next practice, but you stopped me before I got in my mom's car. Told me that I wasn't gonna get better if I just quit."

There was a heavy emphasis on the word quit, and Eddie closed his eyes, as if his friend would stop seeing directly into his soul if he did.

"I don't know how you knew man," Jeff continued, voice laden with intention. "But you did. And look at us now."

"Still a garage band in Indiana," Eddie snorted in self-deprecation.

"Uh, we're only gonna be the best garage band Indiana has ever seen," Dave interjected. "We just...have to play some music."

Gareth let out a whoop of agreement and Eddie opened his eyes to find the three younger boys staring at him expectantly once again.

"What do you say man?" Jeff asked. "First official song of the first practice of the new Corroded Coffin. What should we play?"

And Eddie stood there for a moment, contemplating, weighing and judging his options like this was the most important decision he would make in his life.

Maybe it was.

Finally, with one last glance down to his feet, he took a breath, pulled his shoulders back, and asked,

"How well do you guys know Flight of Icarus?"

#corroded coffin fest #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #Corrodedcoffinfest

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dokoni-mo · 1 year

Text

Crave: Part Seven || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: the honeymoon

mild NSFW

word count: 5177

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 william is pushing 40), allusions to mental illness, willy is obsessive, possessive too, and a little creepy, and a hypocrite, and narcissistic lol, and a little bit of a yandere, mentions of divorce, dysfunctional parent-child relationships, secret relationships, swearing, gaslighting, manipulation tactics, dom/sub undertones if you squint, willy is VERY egotistical, allusions to corruption kink, sir kink, smoking, sensual touching, dirty fantasies, praise, lying, erections, dirty fantasies, kissing, allusions to past unhealthy relationships

minors dni // please read warnings !!

part one // two // three // four // five // six

a/n: helloooo everyone!! welcome back!! thank you for all the support thus far, it really means a lot!! this chapter was originally going to have MULTIPLE parts, but that's gonna be saved for part 8!! just so i don't overload you guys :)) taglist is still open, enjoy!!

~~~

The car ride to the hotel was much quieter than William expected. But he found it hard to care.

It hadn't been quiet because it was awkward or boing, no. That wasn't it at all. It was only quiet because you really had ended up falling asleep during the ride. Despite professing earlier how good you were at staying up. For the brief bit of time you had stayed awake, you were actually a lot chattier than William anticipated. He hadn't even noticed you nodding off until he asked you something, but didn't get a response. He had glanced over to see if you were okay, and found you slumped against the window, pretty little eyes closed with pretty little parted lips.

It was adorable.

Though he did want to spend the few hour long car ride talking to you more, William could never be disappointed by watching you sleep. You were just so adorable and peaceful when you did. His sleepy baby bunny. He was glad you felt safe enough around him to let your guard down like that. Not that he was a danger to you, of course not. It was just... nice. To see you in such a relaxed state.

Almost as nice as how your thighs felt.

William had gotten most accustomed to them during the trip. His right hand never left your soft flesh the whole way there. He would rub soft, loving circles against your knee every now and again, despite knowing that you wouldn't feel them. At least, not now. When he first put his hand there when you were awake, you definitely felt them. He could see it in the way the heat rose to your face, despite you not saying anything about it.

It made him smile.

Sweet little rabbit. No need to be shy around him. Not anymore, not after what the two of you had been through. As adorable as it was, you didn't need to have any shame around him, sweet thing. William loved every part of you and every version of you to bits. There's nothing you could do to embarrass yourself around him.

Perhaps you'd learn that by the end of the trip.

In the spirit to not living up to Mr. Afton's expectations, the hotel was a bit of a surprise as well. William knew that the place was secluded, but damn. There was hardly anyone there. From the looks of it, and the few other cars parked in the lot, there was only one or two other sets of people, not including the staff. But the staff seemed to only account for about three more people.

Not that William cared. The emptier, the better for you and him. That just meant that he could waltz you around the place even more so than he anticipated. The brit wasn't clueless. He knew how it'd look to outsiders. And older man with pretty little you on his hip. It's not that he gave a shit about it. William didn't give a fuck. He was just worried how you'd react. To peoples judgmental stares, the potential looks you would get and the comments. He hoped you wouldn't be insecure about it, if you caught onto it and/or cared. William knew that you were somewhat sensitive. If it caught you at the wrong time, you'd be a little insecure about it. And that was the last thing he wanted this week. For you to feel anything other than loved and cherished and confident. Because you were all of those things to him. All of them and more.

So, so much more.

Keep it together, William. Deal with it as it comes. Worrying about it now isn't gonna solve anything. Just focus on your little bunny. They're all that matters.

To let you sleep a little bit longer, William left you in the car with your door locked while he checked in for the both of you, and while he lugged all the bags up to the room. The hotel was one of those old-school ones with the doors facing the outside, with a dingy concrete staircase connecting the ground to the second level. The room was fortunately near the stairs, so it wasn't too hard for the brit to carry it all up there by himself.

Not that he'd ask you for help with it. But, still. Cut him some slack.

Once he was done getting everything prepared, he was finally ready to wake you up. He had turned off his car before unlocking your side of the door, and you seemed to somewhat aware again just from the loss of the noise of the engine alone. It made him feel less bad about waking you up, but he still felt bad nonetheless.

Maybe that's what compelled him to carry you up the stairs, and not take no for an answer.

"Will, please, you don't gotta do this if you don't wanna. I can walk just fine by myself!" You had mumbled into his shoulder, gripping onto the front of his sweater-vest for dear life. William's hold on you was more than secure, in a nice bridal-style fashion, but you were still a little freaked out by it. Didn't like heights, he figured.

William chuckled at your little plea. Who knew you'd still be this cute when you were scared?

How interesting.

"Bunny, I told you already, love." He responded to you, giving you a quick kiss to your cheek, "Consider this my apology for disturbing your little nap, yeah?"

He saw how you peeked over the edge of the stairs, your fingers digging further in the plush cotton of his sweater, "A-Apology accepted! Okay, you can put me do-"

"No can do, bunny. We're not even to our room yet, silly."

"William!"

The brit chuckled again and pressed another kiss to your cheek as he reached the top of the stairs. The grip you had on his vest finally released as you breathed a silent sigh of relief. The older man could feel your heartbeat slowly start to settle down.

"See, love?" He said, "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"No. It was somehow worse than I imagined."

"I thought you liked being carried."

"I do! But not on a tiny little staircase so high up!"

William laughed at your protests, "Fine, fine. Noted that my bunny doesn't like heights. Come on now, love. Hold on tight, yeah?"

You gave him a little nod as you leaned up a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest close to his. William could feel your heartbeat even clearer now as he shifted your weight to his left arm, supporting you with just the one limb while he used his spare to open the door. Once it was open, he returned to holding you with both arms as he stepped inside, kicking the door closed behind him. In his peripheral, William could see how you turned in his arms so that you could get a better look at the room.

For it being such an old hotel, it was actually rather nice. At least, the furniture was. The room itself (that being the walls, ceiling, and floors) was most definitely dated. But, anyone could tell that the hotel owners made at least some attempt to spruce up the place. There was plenty of well-placed art on the walls, and lots of lamps for mood-lighting. The bulbs were warm-toned too, giving the place more of a home-away-from-home feeling. There were fake plants as well, but the fakeness didn't take away from the charm. The bed looked soft, not plain and hard like a normal hotel bed. The white sheets were fitted with green accents that matched the aesthetic of the room, with lots of pillows and extra blankets. The phone on the bedside table looked fairly new as well. Not even a rotary one. Classy.

Looking around a bit more, it looked like William already took the liberty to unpack just a little bit. Some of his nicer clothes were hanging up in the closet, revealed by the slightly ajar door. Your toiletry bag was no where in sight, so it seemed like he took it into the bathroom already along with his. Nonetheless, both of your suit cases were neatly placed at the foot of the bed, waiting to be used.

It was cozy. And cute. Not anything like the Four Seasons or Ceasar's Palace, but it was cute. Had charm to it. A nice get away for a quick whim. Perfect for your purposes.

William had been studying your face as you looked around the room, a small smile on his lips as he studied your features. He liked being this close to you. Holding you close like this.

"What do you think, bunny?" He asked, after a brief pause, "Do you like it?"

You tore your gaze away from the expanse of the room, smiling at him with a little nod, "I do. It's, like, cozy. And a good size."

"It is, isn't it?" He leaned in closer to you, giving your lips a quick peck, "Do you know what the best part is, though?"

"What?"

William's smirk grew just a hair, "It's all ours. And we are completely and utterly alone."

You giggled at the brit's sentiment, "You were thinking of that line the whole ride here, weren't you?"

"Is it a crime if I was?"

"No, no. It's cute."

"Not nearly as adorable as you, my baby bunny."

As your giggles filled the room again, William leaned in closer to you, capturing your sweet lips into a kiss. He pulled your body closer to his as he walked you over to the bed, your arms still firmly around his scarred neck. The kiss was starting to deepen as he gently laid you down on the hotel bed, but the older man had to pull away. But only just long enough for him to climb on top of you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist with ease.

Once he was steady, William dipped his head down to kiss you again, but didn't stay there as long as before. Instead, he tilted his head down more so that he was greeted with your neck. The hickies he gave you earlier were just starting to form, but where dark enough to where he could see them. He made sure to find new spots on his bunny's skin to latch on to, giving you soft, sweet, and reassuring little pecks in between.

Your fingers found their home in his hair right as he was laying the third bruise into your flesh, soft groans escaping past your throat every now and again. William's left hand was starting to wander past its original spot near your head, making its way down your chest and stomach to your hips and waist. You could feel his calloused fingers rub gentle circles into your skin every now and again.

"Mmmph," You groaned quietly, the brit already working on the fourth mark for you to adorn, "Will... I missed you."

William let out a low chuckle, the bass of which vibrating gently against your neck muscles, and even in the middle of your chest.

"Sweet bunny," he whispered to you, peppering your jaw with a few short, soft kisses, "I missed you too, my darling. So so much."

His hand was palming the hem of your shirt now, his fingers slipping just past the cloth. William could feel his pants growing tighter as he nipped at your collarbones, hoping to elicit more of his cute bunny's sweet sounds out.

Your little fingers slipped out of his hair, sliding down to his shoulders instead, "It's embarrassing but... I couldn't stop thinking about you. I just... I wanted you."

William had to choke back a deep, low groan as he stopped his kisses to look at you, sitting up so he could look down at your blushy face. He could feel how devilish his smirk was as he looked into your half-lidded, sweet little eyes. His fingers were slowly sliding up under your shirt now, ghosting over the soft, smooth skin of your waist and tummy. He wondered if you could already feel his hard-on, because damn did he fucking feel it.

Precious bunny. His sweet baby rabbit.

You liked riling him up like that, didn't you?

"Did you now?" He teased you, raising one his brows as he stared right into your eyes.

He could see how your cheeks heated up even further as you nodded, much to his dismay. He tutted your actions, stopping the smooth, loving strokes of his fingers under your shirt.

"Silly bunny," he said, just loud enough so you could hear, "Don't tell me you forgot already. I need to hear your words, darling. Remember?"

You nodded again, "R-Right, yeah... I'm sorry."

"There's my good bunny. Now, let's try that again, alright?"

"Yes sir."

William had to choke back another groan, "Did you really miss me that much, little one?"

"I did... Yes sir. I missed you so much..."

A deep, low hum escaped the back of the brit's throat as his smirk regrew, his fingers under your shirt resuming their movements.

"Oh, my baby bunny." He hummed, "If only you knew just how much I missed you too."

William leaned down to you again, peppering your jaw with kisses as he whispered in your ear.

"Let's make up for some lost time then, yeah?" He said, "Would you like sir's help with that, little rabbit? Since you missed him that much?"

You couldn't help but let out a little whine, "Y-Yes, sir. Please..."

A low chuckle escaped past the brit's lips, "Good bunny. Now, just relax, yeah? Let me take care of you."

Giving your sweet, puffy lips one last quick kiss, William shifted downwards towards your stomach, gently pushing up your shirt on the way down. Now exposed to your belly underneath, William's hands found their home on either side of your hips as he pressed his kisses into the skin, holding you squarely in place. The older man could hear your soft whines as his hands shifted down to the hem of your pants, biting small little red marks into your skin. He could tell that you were getting antsy, from the way your legs would twitch every now and again beside him.

It was adorable. You were so so cute. He loved you so fucking much. This was only the second time, and you still wanted him this much? Fucking god. It made him so hard just thinking about it.

His kisses were starting to go lower now, his half-lidded stormy grey eyes stealing glances up at your face every now and again.

"Someone's a little impatient this afternoon it seems." He teased you with another smirk, making you whine again.

"I-I'm sorry," you squeaked, "I can't help it..."

William chuckled again, "There's no need to apologize, love. I-"

Before William could finish his sentence, he was rudely interrupted by a low yet loud grumbling noise that cut through the silence of the room. A little confused, the brit sat up a little more to get a better look at your face. Your eyes were wide with your face beet-red, your lips in a thin, long line.

"Was..." he said, "Bunny, was that you?"

You nodded after a brief pause, letting out an embarrassed groan as you hid your face in your hands.

"Yesss," you hissed, "I'm sorry! I'm just really damn hungry. I haven't had anything since, like... yesterday or something."

William shifted his weight around to sit a little more comfortably, his brow knitting in concern, "Love, why didn't you tell me? You know that's not good for you."

You removed your hands from your face, but your gaze faltered a little, "Because! I-I thought I could make it to dinner, and... I liked where this was going..."

The older man couldn't help but breathe out a tiny laugh, leaning back up from his place on the bed to sit in front of you. He took your cheek into his palm and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"I'm certainly a fan as well," He said to you, rubbing soft, reassuring circles to your face, "But I can't have my baby bunny going hungry now, can I?"

"I-I'll be fine! I promise..."

William tutted you again, but this time not as teasingly, "No, no, love. These sorts of things come before, yeah? You need to keep up your energy, little one. And I want my bunny to be healthy, right? And happy?"

"Yeah..."

He leaned in to give you another kiss, "Exactly. Now how about we go and find you something to eat, alright?"

Your gaze dropped down to the side as you gave him another nod, placing your little hand on top of his own that was still nestled on your face, "I'm sorry... I totally killed the mood."

The brit shushed you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, then another one to your lips.

"You didn't kill anything, love," he said, "Don't apologize. Your health and needs always come first. Besides, we have a whole week together, yeah?"

William saw your little smile creep back into the corners of your mouth, "Yeah."

"Exactly, love. So don't feel sorry for anything. It's alright. Sir isn't going to go anywhere, alright? Let's just find you a little something first. You'll need it for if you want to continue this later."

~~~

Fortunately for William, he didn't have to search too far to find you something to eat. The hotel had a small deli offset from the main lobby, and it looked decent. He didn't feel too uncomfortable with having you get something from there, since it looked clean and fresh enough for his standards. He didn't want you eating some sort of junk, not if he couldn't help it.

You were better than that.

The sun had started to creep down the horizon when the two of you entered the deli. William didn't think that he had kept you in the room for that long, but turns out he did. That was fine though, he certainly did enjoy the short bit of fun the two of you had. Sure it didn't go all the way, but it was more than fine. It was only day one of seven, there'd be plenty of time for him to play with his bunny later. What was important now was keeping you fed. So you didn't keel over in the middle of him having his fun with you, and (more importantly) so he was doing a good job of taking care of you. Like he promised.

William didn't much feel like interacting with the people working behind the counter, so he stayed behind while you ordered for yourself. Of course, he kept you within his sight while you did, but you seemed to be doing fine. You had a little bit of social anxiety, but it was manageable. His bunny was capable. And you seemed braver with him around. Perhaps you unconsciously knew that he'd swoop in to save you, if you ran into trouble.

Of course he would. He promised that to you, too. He was your hero.

The brit was standing next to the entrance door while he watched you order, feeling the low Utah sun creeping down his back through the window. Thankfully it was a smoking zone, so he was able to enjoy a cigarette for the time being. Far enough away from you to keep you from breathing in the second-hand smoke, but not far away to where he had to be away from you. A win-win.

The older man took a puff from his cigarette as he watched you walked up to the register. He had given you his wallet to pay for your food, and it seemed like they weren't having any issue with you using a credit card that didn't have your name on it.

Not that they would, but still. He was a bit paranoid when it came to his bunny.

After double checking that you were okay, William turned around and put his free hand in his pocket, looking out the window to the scenery outside.

He had to admit; the location of the hotel was actually quite nice. For Utah, anyway. There were lots of nice trees and wildflowers, and a cool breeze that liked to roll through frequently. It was much better looking than he had remembered. When coming here with his family long ago, he remembered it quite differently. More drab and grey, not nearly as much color as he was looking at. Perhaps it was just because of the different contexts. When his family still all lived together under the same roof, it was one of the most depressing times he remembers in his life. So fucking boring. And a non-stop headache of three children constantly screaming, crying, and running around. With that bitch always nagging him to pay attention to her and the children, like he gave a damn about any of them.

William took a long, drawn out inhale of the nicotine.

God. He did not fucking miss that.

But, with you, it was so much better. You were a thousand times better than his family ever was. You weren't fucking annoying, for one, and you weren't loud either. You were soft and quiet, and sweet and caring. And you were very much in love with him, much like how he was in love with you. You were smarter than any of his family was, and it didn't feel painful to have to explain things to you. When you listened, you actually listened, and cared about what he had to say. Giving you kisses and other forms of affection didn't feel like a chore. He was happy to do it because he wanted to do it. He couldn't get enough of your body next to his. Much different from what he felt for his ex and the little brats he made with her.

That was the biggest difference, he figured. William loved you, and you reciprocated. He never fucking loved his family. Not even for a moment.

He was glad to be so close to never having to speak to them again.

Taking a quick glance over his shoulder to you, William made sure you were still okay as he tamped out some of the ash from the cigarette. Once he had his confirmation, William shifted his gaze back out the window, inhaling another puff of nicotine.

His eyes were scanning over the few cars that were in the parking lot this time as he stared out the window. Not that he was that into cars, but he did think a few were good to look at. There was of course his own, which was probably the most expensive that parking lot had ever seen. There was a few other nice cars, but not much to bat an eye at. A green ford. A blue Volkswagen. A red convertible. A...

...

Wait.

William blinked his eyes to try and readjust his vision. Not that he had much issues with his sight, but surely he had caught something in there. He even went to the extra measure to rub them with his free hand. He opened his eyes again to scan the parking lot again.

He felt a snap of cold wash over him.

No.

God please fucking no.

There was no fucking way. He had to be seeing shit. He had to be. He knew that fucking red car. He knew it all too well. Even though the last time he saw it was-

"Will?"

William nearly flinched as he heard your soft voice behind him, turning around a bit too quickly at the sound. Smoke was still pluming out of his cigarette, and he could feel his grey eyes were a bit wider than they should've been. You didn't seem to notice, though, or at least didn't care. You were smiling up at him so sweetly, holding up a brown paper bag to show him.

"I'm all done." You said, "I got you one too, I hope that's okay."

William gave you a little nod of approval, trying his best to reciprocate your smile, "Yes, that's fine, bunny. Thank you, that was very..."

The older man didn't finish his sentence, taking another hit of nicotine as he looked outside again.

It was gone.

Thank god it was fucking gone.

"Um, Will?" He heard you say, "Is everything okay?"

William dropped the remainder of his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it to put it out, turning back to you with the best smile he could muster. Fuck, was he sweating? He couldn't tell.

Keep it fucking together, William.

"Y-Yes, bunny, of course." He said, clearing his throat, "Sorry, I just lost my train of thought. Let's get back to the room, alright?"

Before you could agree, William grabbed you by the hand and nearly drug you out of the deli. He could hear a little cry of protest from his quick actions come from you, but he didn't pay attention to what it was.

All he was focused on was getting back to where it was safe. Before everything got fucked up.

~~~

The sun had rapidly started setting faster and faster once William got you back into the room. You seemed to be much hungrier than you had realized, since you hadn't said anything since you had sat at the corner of the bed with your sandwich in your hands, munching away without a care in the world. You had turned on the TV to some local news channel to have something to watch, your eyes glued to the screen as you ate.

William, however, hadn't joined you by your side. At least, not yet.

He was too occupied gazing out the windows every few seconds and pacing around the room, only broken up by him taking a seat in one of the chairs every couple of minutes. He hadn't said much since he got back from the deli, and he knew it. But he just... couldn't.

He couldn't remember the last time he was this paranoid.

He wanted to start smoking again, but not with you in the room. He wouldn't want you to breathe in the second hand smoke. Never. But fuck. Did he fucking want to.

It was a balancing act made in hell. Trying to be calm for you, but also quelling his own worries. He stood up for what felt like the 100th time that afternoon and pulled back the curtains, looking out to be greeted yet again with an empty, poorly-lit parking lot.

William felt his brow knit together. How the fuck would he have been found out this early? About you? About everything?

It didn't make any sense. Those idiots couldn't have found him out this fucking early on. He covered his tracks. He fucking lied where he had to. He planned every fucking thing town to the most minute detail. Dotted the i's. Crossed the t's. There was no way they got that smart. No fucking way.

But then why was that goddamned car outside?

William sighed to himself annoyedly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

He was going to drive himself crazy. This wasn't how he wanted to spend this week with you. Not in the slightest. All he fucking wanted was a nice, peaceful time away with his bunny. But no. He didn't fucking get that either. He didn't ever get shit he wanted. He has you, but that's it. But where was the fun if he couldn't play with you like he wanted? Having to dart from place to place like this? Maybe he needs to step up his game. Do more. Take you further out of town. Change his name perhaps. It's not fair to you, but you'd have to change yours as well. Maybe when you were at the courthouse, he could-

"Will?"

Over the sound of the hum of the TV, William could hear you calling out to him. He opened his eyes and turned away from the window, closing the blinds again as he did. He was greeted with the sight of you still perched on the edge of the bed, your cute eyes filled with a twinge of worry. Your sandwich wrapper was balled up and thrown beside you. How long had he been at this?

"Will," you said again, "are you okay?"

William cleared his throat at your question, putting on the best smile he could muster, "Of course, bunny. Why?"

"You just seem, like... paranoid."

Shit. He forgot how smart you could be.

"No, no, I'm not paranoid, love." He said, "Not at all."

The older man saw how you frowned at his response, prompting you to stand up from off the bed. He watched as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands found their home on either side of your waist, feeling how his muscles relax at the feeling of your touch. You even stood up on your tip-toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. In waves, he could feel his pent-up stress wash out of him, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your warmth was comforting to him, it seems. Just having you in his arms was.

Sweetest little one.

"Will," you said to him, "Its okay. You can tell me if something's bothering you."

William felt himself smile genuinely this time, lifting up one of his hands to rest on your cheek.

"Oh, my darling bunny," He mumbled, just loud enough so you could hear, "noting gets past you, does it, my love?

You smiled up at him, nuzzling your cheek against his large palm, "It's had to miss when you're pacing around like crazy."

William couldn't help but chuckle, breathing a sigh of out his nose afterward.

"I apologize, bunny, I just..." William rubbed small, loving circles onto your cheek with his thumb. He had to think of a way to put this so you weren't scared, but that proved to be challenging. He settled on telling you part of the truth, "It's been a while since I've had time off. I think I'm just getting used to not having anything to do, yeah?"

"Yeah, I get that. But you should try to relax, Will. Pacing around and being all, like, fidgety isn't gonna help. You're working yourself up."

William let out a hum at your words, leaning down to kiss your lips again.

You were right. Worrying isn't helping anything. He needed to chill the fuck out. He was scaring you. You wouldn't ever admit it to him, but he was. He could tell. And that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted his bunny to be happy. And feel loved and safe. And him being so paranoid wasn't going to accomplish that. He was probably just tired after a long drive and a few restless nights. A red convertible was a popular car. It didn't necessarily mean what he thought it was. He was just worried about things going wrong, even though he was the one telling you it'd all be alright. Oh, poor bunny. He didn't mean to frighten you like that. He was just being a fool. He hoped you could forgive him. He was just glad to have you there to pull him back to reality.

His had slid down your waist, latching onto your hip and pulling you closer to him.

His perfect bunny. The love of his life. HIs darling little one. His.

Just as the kiss was starting to deepen, William pulled away from you with a smirk, his lips hovering just inches away from your own. He could feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks onto his as he looked into your eyes. The older man's hands were deft, one expertly caressing the side of your body, the other the side of your face. He could tell you were already enjoying yourself, your tiny fingers digging into the back of his sweater-vest. Perhaps you were feeling pent-up from earlier. There's no shame if you were, sweet thing. Hell, he was probably more in need of you then you were of him. Heaven knows how much he tried to relieve himself in your absence.

But, even though you were right there in front of him, William liked to take his time with you. Feel you. Touch you. Savor you.

"You've been so so good for me, bunny." He mumbled to you, his thumb dipping down to feel your rosy, swollen bottom lip, "Did you know that? You've been a perfect bunny for me."

William watched you swallow and nod before you said anything, "I... I like to think I'm good at following the rules..."

The brit chuckled, "It seems you are, love."

He paused briefly to give your lips another quick kiss, finding it too hard to resist.

"And do you know what happens when you're a good baby bunny for sir, darling?" He asked you after pulling away again.

You took a little breath before you said anything. He could tell that you were getting shy again, but knew he wanted your words. You were learning. Good. He barely had to teach you a thing.

"I... I-I get a reward." you mumbled.

William let out a pleased hum, giving a kiss to your temple, "Good bunny. That's right, you get everything your pretty little heart desires, yeah?"

"Yes sir."

"And tell me, little one. Who gives you all those nice things, hm?"

"Y-You do, sir..."

"Good bunny. And who is the only one that gets to give you those things?"

"Sir is."

William's finger dipped under your chin, lifting up the bone to make sure you looked him dead in the eyes.

"And whos bunny are you, little one?"

Your cheeks were burning hot now, "Y-Yours, sir... I'm yours."

Sir let out another pleased hum, pressing another quick kiss to his bunny's sweet little lips.

"Good, bunny, very good. Now, how about you tell me what you'd like for your reward, yeah? Anything your little heart desires, love. It'll be yours."

He watched you wet your lips before you spoke, barely above a whisper.

"You."

~~~

It was really fucking cold when you woke up.

It didn't help that the blankets were already halfway off of you, and that you were butt-ass naked underneath, except for your lower underwear. Maybe that's what woke you up to begin with. You couldn't think of any other reason why.

When you cracked your eyes open, you were luckily facing the bedside table, the digital alarm clock's red light shining in the dark void of the hotel room. Probably the only light source within the room William had gotten you. It took you a few rubs of your eyes to finally read it.

2:47 AM. Tuesday morning.

You rubbed your eyes a bit more as you felt your body start to wake up along with the rest of you. After moving around a bit, you were already starting to feel warmer than you did earlier. You knew that you should've put on pajamas. Around this time, Utah got freezing at night. It was practically the desert out here, but damn. It made you grateful to live in a time with heater systems being invented. But, still. The best heater in the world wouldn't do shit if you were butt-ass naked.

Coupled with the fact that you were freezing, you also felt a little hungry. The sandwich from earlier was filling, but after tonight you knew you had spent a lot of energy.

You took a glance over your shoulder at where that energy had went.

Of course, William was sound asleep behind you. Now that you were a bit more woken up, you could feel his arms wrapped snugly around your middle, your back pressed against this large, scarred yet toned chest. You knew that he had missed you while you were away. You missed him too. But turns out, oh god did he fucking miss you. He didn't want just one round. He wanted two. Then three. Then four. Then almost five, if you hadn't been nearly passing out from exhaustion by the start.

Not that you were complaining. Sex with William was amazing.

He was just amazing in general. He was kind to you. Understanding, too. And so so loving. You could tell that he really cared. Although he had some... odd ways of showing it.

But you didn't mind. It's what you signed up for. It's what you wanted. You couldn't help but think back to the days where you had a bit of a crush on him. Blushing whenever he said hi to you. Getting him to talk just to listen to that smoking accent of his. Did that make you a bad person? Crushing on your best friend's dad? Maybe it did. But, you couldn't help it. He was just so... charming.

Who knew you'd end up like this? With him? After all that time?

It was a bit hard to believe it was all real, at times.

Like it was too good to be true.

All you wanted was to just cuddle back up to William and drift back off. Wake up to him kissing you good morning, with a nice breakfast like he did before. But, no. You were too damn cold. And too damn hungry to do that, to wait until the morning. You needed to put on some pajamas, and find something to eat before you starved or froze to death. You couldn't imagine the horror your boyfriend would have if he found you dead next to him in the morning, all because he was too needy to let you put on a fucking shirt the night prior.

You'd save him the heart-attack. With all those damn cigarettes he smoked, he needed to be saved from it.

Slowly, you started to peel yourself away from the older man, careful not to go too fast. You still weren't too sure about just how heavy a sleeper Will was or not, but wanted to be careful in case he wasn't one at all. After a lot of wiggling and shuffling around, you were finally able to get out of your boyfriend's hold without incident. You shifted your legs out from under the covers, sitting on the edge of the bed as you rubbed your eyes one last time. They were pretty adjusted to the dark now, so you were able to see what was around you.

At the foot of the bed, you saw the discarded white t-shirt William had thrown off earlier. He used it as an undershirt, but it still looked clean enough. It'd do for the time being.

Picking up the article of clothing, you pulled it on over your head, letting it fall down your body. It was a little big on you, but you just found that to be more comfortable. And it smelled like Will. A win-win.

Scanning the ground again, you were able to see your sweatpants from earlier, though a little farther away this time. Reaching out with your leg, you were able to catch the pants on your toe and bring it back closer to you. You reached down and grabbed the pants off the floor, loosely holding it in your hands.

You were just about to stand up to put them on, but suddenly felt a large, heavy hand grab onto your wrist.

A gasp escaped your lips as you quickly spun around to see its source, only to be greeted with a familiar sight.

Him.

"Oh my god, Will!" You mutedly exclaimed, your voice barely above a whisper, "You scared the shit outta me!"

He asked, his voice low and laced with sleep, "What are you doing?"

"It got cold," you explained, "so I'm putting on some clothes. I was also gonna go look for a vending machine. I can bring you-"

"No."

You blinked at William's interjection, feeling your lips part as you did. Even in the cover of darkness, you could see the seriousness in his grey eyes. Feel it in the way he grabbed onto you. He didn't want you to get up.

"Just..." he continued, "come back to bed, bunny. I'll hold you to make it warmer."

You smiled at his request. It was late. Will just must be tired. You could understand his clinginess.

"You were already holding me, Will." you explained to him, standing up to pull on your pants before sitting down again. William's hand returned to your arm as you did so.

"It'll be warmer with your clothes." He said, "Come here, bunny. I don't want you to leave."

You breathed out a little laugh as you leaned forward to him, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I'll just be gone a few minutes. I'll come right back. I promise." you reassured him, sliding your hand down to give his hand a squeeze.

"You promise?"

"Yes, Will."

"...Fine. Just don't be too long."

"I won't, I won't. Just a few minutes."

You gave him one last kiss on the cheek before standing up, putting on your shoes, and slipping out of the door. You felt bad leaving your boyfriend after he asked you to stay, but you were starving. But, you knew you could make good on your promise. You already knew were the vending machines were, and what sort of thing you'd want from them.

You padded your feet down the small staircase as you felt the chilly air wash over you, hugging your arms tight around you. You had to go slow down the stairs, since you were still sore from earlier, but tried to hurry as best you could. Once you were at the bottom, you turned the corner into the small area which housed the ice and vending machines. The whir from them was almost hypnotic, and it made you yawn. After scanning through the array of items available to you, you realized that this was gonna be a tougher choice than you thought.

The quietness of the night made it easier for you to think as you leaned against the wall. But, it also made you more aware.

After a few minutes, you could hear the sound of footsteps padding over to you in the distance. By their pitch, you could distinguish that whoever it was, they were wearing heels.

Heels? At this hour? Maybe someone coming from a party. Or someone's plane just landed a few hours ago. Who were you to judge?

Your eyes still on the vending machine, you listened as the footsteps drew nearer to where you were. Weird, but...

The staircase was right behind you. They were probably just going up there.

Why were you so nervous?

The heel-clacking was getting louder now.

Shit.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the source of the footsteps. A woman had come up to the vending machine too, standing a good amount of feet away from you.

Shit. Should you just ignore her? Or was that rude?

It had to be rude. No to at least say hi.

Picking up your gaze from off the array of snacks, you looked over to the woman. You were a bit surprised to see she was already looking at you.

Or, at a minimum, you think she was.

The woman had a beautiful strawberry-blonde colored head of long, feathered hair, a red bandana holding some of the sides away from her face. She was wearing sunglasses (odd, for this time of night), but you could see the freckles that lined her cheeks underneath them. Her dress was long and flowy; a nice pastel-pink color with small, red rosettes lining the knee-length skirt. Her purse was tucked neatly into the crook of her arm, balancing on the top of her wide hip. Her heels were red too, as well as the lipstick she wore.

Should you be creeped out? By someone so casual this late at night?

Only one way to find out.

You gave your best polite smile to the lady, internally cringing at the awkward feeling it gave you.

"Cold night, yeah?" You asked her as some form of greeting. Not your best work, but hey. You weren't good with this sort of thing.

"Definitely, sugar." She told you in response, allowing you to hear her deep, rich southern accent, "much too cold for that get-up you got here."

You tried to laugh as polite as you could, "Yeah, well, I'm not staying out here too long. Just needed some air."

The woman nodded, "I understand. I wouldn't want to be around him too much, either."

It took you a second to process what the lady said, but you felt the chill run down your body once you understood.

What? No, there's no way...

She must be mistaken.

"I..." you stammered out, "S-sorry, I don't... I-I think you got the wrong person."

The woman's small smile grew, but not out of amusement. She seemed... sad. You watched as she took off her sunglasses, neatly placing them on top of her head to rest on her bandana. She had gorgeous green eyes. The type you'd only seen in movies before.

"You are (Y/N), right?" she asked.

You felt another chill run down your spine. If your legs weren't so sore, you knew you'd be running by now.

"H-How..." you mumbled, "H-how do you know my name..?"

The woman's brow bent downwards now, her eyes full of sympathy.

"Oh, don't be frightened now, mudbug. How rude of me. My name's Clara, sugar. But you probably know me better as Mikey's momma."

~~~

It was sad. It was sad, but painfully true.

The second Clara looked at you, she could tell exactly why her ex-husband wanted anything to do with you.

You were a cute and timid little thing. Young, and so full of life. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for what the world had to offer you. You had to be smart too. William wouldn't tolerate you if you weren't. Skittish, but she couldn't blame you for that. She had come up to you in the middle of the night. You were probably tired, and god knows what kind of shit William put into your head by now. She figured it had to be a good amount. It was obvious you were wearing his shirt, and the hickies covering your neck were even more so. And he had drug you all the way out here. You were probably so naïve and kind. She could see it in your eyes.

She wondered if you already loved him.

How tonight went would tell her.

She watched you as you continued to back away from her. She knew that you were trying to make a break for the stairs, but weren't trying to be rude at the same time. Clara could feel the sympathetic smile on her face.

You poor, poor thing.

"L-Look, ma'am, I..." you stammered out, "I don't want any trouble, I just-"

"No, sugar, no," Clara said back to you, keeping her voice low and calm to not frighten you any further, "I'm not lookin' for trouble either."

You looked at the older woman for a moment, eyeing her up and down in silence.

"Then what do you want?" you asked.

Clara shot you another sympathetic smile, shifting her purse down to rest in the crook of her elbow. She reached inside and pulled out a manila envelope, folded if half to fit in her bag.

"Now, I know you must be really confused, pumpkin," she explained, "but Mikey and I are just... we're a little concerned for you. And I just wanna ask you for a few minutes of your time to show you a few things, okay?"

The woman saw how your brows knitted together, partially in confusion, but partially in anger.

"Concerned for me?" you questioned, "Why? I'm sorry if this is rude, ma'am but... you don't even know me."

"Trust me, darlin', Mikey's told me plenty about you before."

"Then he should know that I'm fine. I'm not in any danger, so if he set you up to this just... please tell him that I'm okay."

Damn. You were smart.

"(Y/N)," Clara said, "I know you might feel like you are, but trust me when I say-"

"Why should I trust you? S-Sorry, I know that's rude but..."

"Because I've been in your shoes before, pumpkin. I know all of that man up there's tricks to keep you were he wants."

"But hasn't it been like, years since y'all split up? Maybe he's changed."

"People like him don't ever change, sugar. In all the years I've known him, he hasn't changed not one bit."

Clara could tell that you were getting annoyed, and defensive too. She couldn't help but wonder if her ex was starting to rub off on you in that regard. Were you like this before? She'd never know.

"Look, ma'am," you said, starting to back away to the staircase, "I appreciate the concern, but I am not in any sorta danger here. I am perfectly fine, and I know what I'm doing. So, please, thanks and goodni-"

"He calls you his bunny, doesn't he?"

That certainly got your attention. You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes wide open to the size of dinner plates, all the color drained from your face. Clara smiled to cover up the anguish inside. That's what she was hoping to avoid. That's the one thing she wished he spared you from. But, deep down, she knew. Clara knew that he'd want nothing to do with you unless you were that.

Clara watched you take a few steps closer to her, your eyes till wide open as you looked up to her face. She saw you were trembling, but wasn't sure if it was because you were scared, or because of the cold.

"H-How..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, "How did you know that?"

The woman shot you another sympathetic smile, "How about we find a place to sit down, sugar?"

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @laylaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo @reapersimps @wawuwe @lovinglenore @zoey5252 @000-mika

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!!

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #william afton smut #william afton #dave miller x reader #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf smut

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kanerallels · 5 months

Text

Okay I need every shred of serotonin I can get right now, so! Have a fic I wrote for @sarah3210 in honor on May the Fourth! Hope you guys enjoy it!

(Taglist for fun and profit: @day-to-day-thots @laughingphoenixleader @aosladies @heckin-music-dork @opalknight @cassie-fanfics)

It had been a long time since Ezra Bridger had flown a shuttle. But somehow, that’s not why his hands were shaking as he approached the hangar bay of the ship in front of him.

He shouldn’t have been nervous. But for the first time in almost ten years, he wasn’t on Peridea. He was home.

Or close enough, at least. The ship wasn’t Lothal. But when Ezra thought of home, Lothal wasn’t always the first thing that came to mind. It wasn’t a place at all. It was people.

They’re here. He was sure of it. Sabine had told him where to find Hera— or rather, Hera’s flagship, since she was a general now. He couldn’t really say he was surprised. Just proud, if you could be proud of the woman who’d basically been your mother for so many years of your life.

The two A-wings escorting him peeled off as he slipped through the energy shield and set the shuttle down. Not too rough of a landing— Hera or Sabine could have done better, but Ezra was a little rusty.

Through the viewport, he could see a handful of figures moving towards the shuttle. Okay. Here we go.

He realized, as the shuttle ramp was lowering, that he hadn’t taken off the armor he’d stolen on Thrawn’s ship. Huh. Well, this should be fun. Holding back a sudden burst of laughter, Ezra headed down the ramp slowly, his hands in the air.

There was a cluster of people coming to meet him— most of them wearing white and blue or black uniforms, all looking exceptionally wary. And in their lead was a green skinned Twi’lek woman wearing a flight jacket and carrying a small blaster that she leveled directly at Ezra.

It’s Hera. She looked a little different. Older and tired, but still determined, with the same calm that she wore when she was trying to mediate a fight between him and Zeb. Holy kark, it’s Hera, and is that— in a flash, he realized that Kallus and Zeb were a few steps behind her, bo-rifles at the ready as they eyed the potential threat warily.

The reality of it hit him like a brick in the chest because it meant he was back. It worked. Ten years and he was face to face with his family again, finally.

He was still reeling when he recognized the figure rolling towards him. Chopper looked exactly the same as the last time Ezra had seen him, when the droid had helped him save Lothal. He was bwomping something about who did Ezra think he was fooling as he approached, and Ezra almost automatically let a hand drop to the top of Chopper’s dome. “Hey, Chop,” he whispered, far too low for anyone else to hear it. The droid let out a satisfied noise— clearly, he’d realized who Ezra was immediately.

Hera still looked unsure, though. Which was fair. Ezra was, after all, still wearing trooper armor. Reaching up, he slowly pulled off his helmet.

The expression on Hera’s face changed in a snap, shock and confusion bright in her eyes. Ezra knew the feeling. He still couldn’t believe what he was looking at, either.

“Ezra?” she said, her voice shaking, holding a thread of hope that Ezra understood deeply.

“Hi, Hera,” he said, and found himself grinning like an idiot because it had been so long but he was back. Things were a mess but he was with his family again. He could fix it. “I’m home.”

He started towards her, but Hera was already moving. Her blaster clattering to the ground, she darted towards him and threw her arms around him in a fierce embrace that knocked the wind out of Ezra. “Ow,” he grunted, but hugged her back, feeling tears prickle his eyes.

“Hi?” she said, her voice shaking. “You’ve been gone for ten years and that’s how you start?”

“Uh—”

Another set of arms enveloped them, effectively crushing the last of the air out of Ezra’s lungs. “When I’m done hugging you,” Zeb growled, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Missed you too,” Ezra gasped, wheezing for breath. “Kallus, you next? Is it gonna be a hug or a death threat?”

The man laughed, sounding more at ease than Ezra ever remembered him sounding. “Oh, I think Zeb and General Syndulla have the death threats more than covered.”

“That’s good,” Ezra said as both Zeb and Hera let go. Hera only stepped back a little, though, studying his face.

“You’ve grown up so much,” she whispered, gently touching his cheek. “And you’re— we thought you were—”

“You really thought Thrawn and a couple purrgil could take me out?” Ezra said, raising his eyebrows and grinning. “I’m pretty offended.

Zeb grinned even wider. “Oh, not everyone did.”

“Thanks, Zeb.”

Zeb’s grin, somehow, widened. And got a lot more smug. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about me.”

“Ouch. Wait, then who—”

A door hissed open, and a voice cut him off. A familiar voice. “Hera! You’re not going to believe this, but I sensed—”

Ezra’s heart stopped around the same time the voice did. Staring over Hera’s shoulder at him was… a ghost?

Because Kanan Jarrus had died on Lothal, saving him and Sabine and Hera.

He couldn’t be here, his hair and beard grown back with streaks of gray. And he DEFINITELY couldn’t have two kids with him— one who looked like a small version of Hera but with freckles, and patches of orange in her skin. She eyed him warily as she clung to Kanan’s hand. The other was a human boy with green hair, and was gaping at Ezra with delight. “I told you,” he whispered.

“—Ezra,” the man finished, meeting Ezra’s gaze with clear, seeing eyes. The scar was still there, but… His eyesight came back. Right before he… he died. Didn’t he?

He could barely speak as Hera silently stepped out of the way, a smile on her face. Clearing his throat, Ezra managed a breath. “K-Kanan?”

A smile spread across his face. “Hey, kid. I bet you have some—”

Ezra cut him off by sprinting across the space between them and tackling him in a hug that nearly sent them both flying backwards. He was definitely going to cry, but all he could do right now was cling to his master and pray that he didn’t somehow disappear. “You’re here,” he choked out, holding back a sob.

Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close. For a moment, he felt just like a padawan again. “I’m here,” Kanan murmured. “And so are you. Force, Ezra, we missed you so much.”

Ezra let out a shaky laugh. “Uh, you missed me? I thought you were dead.”

“I almost was.”

“Thank you for not being dead.”

He felt Kanan laugh. “Any time, kid. Thank you for coming home safely.” He paused, and Ezra could sense his confusion through their bond. Their bond, which had come flowing back so naturally that it felt like it had never left.

“Shouldn’t Sabine be with you?”

Whoops. “Uh, yeah, about that,” Ezra said sheepishly. “Um… she and Ahsoka are kinda left behind? And Thrawn is also here? And he has a team of witches and a creepy friend named Enoch?”

“Maul isn’t resurrected from the dead, too, is he?” Kanan said wryly, and Ezra laughed.

“Nope. He’s still dead.”

“Okay, then. We’ll handle it.”

We. Somehow, Ezra thought, the prospect of facing this with his family at his side made the whole situation a lot easier. It always did.

#ezra bridger #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #jacen syndulla #depa syndulla #star wars rebels #swr #ahsoka show #ahsoka series #ahsoka series spoilers #writing stories is a kind of magic too #this was a lot of fun to write!! and it got me out of my burnout/writing slump which was nice

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soupbabe · 1 year

Note

Hey soupboo-babe

Now this may be out of character but could you do Micheal Myers, Bo Sinclair, Ghostface going through something or having a breakdown and gn!reader comforts them?

It's okay if you don't wanna do this tho. Ty!

Comforting Slashers During a Breakdown

Featuring: Billy Loomis, Bo Sinclair and Michael Myers

Giving u the soupboob pass because I'm a sucker for reverse comfort <33 didn't know what kind of Ghostface you wanted so I just went with Billy!

Major thank you to @bugginbeetlew for helping me with Billy's section! I was a lil bit lost writing him and he helped me sm !! A lot of his ideas are in his section<33

Tagging: @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @devil-doll13

Michael Myers

- Michael isn't prone to normal breakdowns, he gets more violent and lashes out a lot more

- When he feels like too much, he literally destroys everything around him might go out for a couple of kills too

- It's hard to bring him down to Earth, there's definitely a larger chance of you getting hurt in the process

- I think the best approach is to really be there for him either right before or right after he reaches a boiling point

- He'd still be in his feel feelings about everything, and sometimes what he needs is a solid hug

- Michael would feel a strange sense of vulnerability and it makes him uncomfortable. He usually strays away from physical contact, but for some reason he feels a weight lifted off of him when you wrap your arms around him

- Michael doesn't care for you helping him explain his feelings, it reminds him too much of his time with Dr. Loomis. It's better to just let the silence linger and let him relax in your embrace

- Sure it may not be the healthiest thing to let it all pass and never mention it again, but at least it could save someone's life (if you catch Michael just in time-)

Bo Sinclair

- Dare I say that Bo is the most self destructive out of the bunch

- I think he tries to hold himself to a high standard and set impossible goals, he stresses himself out constantly because of it

- Honestly he just wants someone to be gentle with him when he's breaking down

- While he is outwardly expressive, it's going to take everything for him to confront his feelings and let himself cry

- Bo and toxic masculinity go hand and hand like bread and butter

- Kiss him gently, hold him close, give him so much reassurance he needs it so much

- Tell him it's okay to cry, your shared room is now a private and safe space where he feels comfortable to do so

- Whispering to Bo that you love him just the way he is, that he shouldn't feel like he should go above and beyond to be loved will start the waterworks omg he will never be letting you go

Billy Loomis

- It's very easy for Billy to break down when things are out of his control and no where close to the night he has planned

- Leading up to it all, he becomes a lot more snappy and prone to make threats. And mid breakdown, he will be punching walls and screaming

- Everything festers to anger doesn't matter how he felt initially

- Billy prefers being left alone during these moments, it's embarrassing to him if you walk in on everything and it's very uncomfortable

- He always felt like he had to only rely on himself, so having help when it's not asked for or planned doesn't stick well to him

- I think comfort can happen in a very late stage of Billy breakdowns: self loathing

- After blaming everyone else, after taking his anger out on any and everything around him, there's a rare chance you'll see him feeling bad for himself and tearing himself apart

- That's when you can sweep in and just kinda baby him: sweep the hair out of his face, take care of his bloody and bruised knuckles, shower him with tenderness.

-It's where he's feeling the softest and he needss you

#slashers x reader #Michael Myers x reader #Michael Myers #halloween 1978 #halloween x reader #bo Sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax x reader #house of wax 2005 #billy loomis x reader #billy Loomis #scream x reader #scream 1996 #slasher x reader #horror x reader

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kiss-theggoat · 1 year

Note

Ok okay okay- I’m back and I just have to pitch this idea to you. Don’t feel like you need to write anything for it but I just need to slide this over to you. House of Wax setting again lol- okay so the clothes and outfits- the boys have a lot already from their previous victims. But sometimes they want something a bit different for an exhibit. Enter the S/O. Who’s sitting in the garage with Bo, sowing outfits together for Vincent’s new figures. She can’t be in the basement with Vincent since she needs proper light- but can’t be completely alone since the boys are still, even after years, unsure if she’ll try to leave.

So She’s just there, tongue sticking out as she thoughtfully sows glass beads onto a dress. And if any victims walk through the garage, and ask why she’s sowing in here or what she sowing- she’ll say;

“Oh its clothing for the museum”

“Oh I’m working on one of the girls prom dresses.”

“Oh, one of the old men in town ripped his pants again.”

“I just enjoy the company and music.”

She’s also always repairing the boy's clothes when stuff… happens (cough cough knife and chasing)

Angrily sitting there, sowing up Bo’s shirt and lecturing him. “I just re-did this Bo! Now I have to pause my work on the gown for Vincent.”

-🪴🖤

A/N: Hi hi hi 🪴🖤!! Thanks so much for the request and I love the idea! It’s so cute to think of one of the boys coming up with some clothes that need mending. Anyways, on with the one shot!

The Sinclair Seamstress

Sinclair Brothers One Shot

Summary: You find yourself as the personal seamstress for the Sinclair brothers.

TW: none 🖤

The radio was quiet, filling the kitchen with a soft melody which you hummed along to. You were hard at work at breakfast for the Sinclair brothers, whom you’d become very close to in your year in Ambrose. The toaster popped up beside you, and you held the pan that contained almost nine eggs worth of cheese covered scramble. You’d filled the house with an amazing aroma, mixing cheese and eggs and bacon, and onions in half because Bo and Lester liked onions and Vincent and you didn’t. You smiled as you grabbed the toast, now having two pieces for each of you. You placed the carefully on the plate and then buttered them all before putting the egg scramble between the two pieces, along with three pieces of fresh, crispy bacon.

“Somethin’ smells good.” You heard Bo’s raspy morning voice and it filled your chest with warm honey, making you turn around with his plate in your hands like a little kid presenting a handmade gift.

“Breakfast!” You said happily, setting his plate down where he usually sat, at the head of the table. “Sit.” You said, walking towards the fridge. You wanted to grab out the gallon of orange juice you’d gone so far to buy, but you knew that he’d hound you for a beer, so you skipped the hassle and grabbed one for him. You popped the cap off and set it besides his breakfast. Bo looked up at you with a quaint lopsided smile, which you knew meant he was pleased.

Before you could ask what he had planned for the day, you heard the creaking of the steps and whipped around to see Lester, sliding his loose old button up over one arm. As he moved, you noticed the huge hole near the armpit seam of the shirt.

“Lester, you can’t wear that. It’s falling apart.” You scolded and walked towards him, fingers finding the tear and tracing it.

Lester sighed, “Well I ain’t got another shirt today. It’s fine.”

“I can fix it for you before you leave. Do you have a sewing kit?”

Lester gave you a look with one eyebrow up. “You can sew?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I used to make my own clothes and stuff. It’s a really easy fix, no time at all.”

“…Well alright. I’m sure we got some sewin’ stuff somewhere.”

And this conversation was how you became a personal seamstress for the Sinclair brothers. You never thought you’d be in this position, living with three men in a town of wax and making clothes for their sculptures. But, here you sat, red fabric draping over your legs as you moved closer to the seams you were sewing. The only downside to this was that they didn’t own a sewing machine, so everything you made had to be by hand. This definitely simplified yours and Vincent’s designs, but you made it work.

The dress you were working on now was for a pretty blonde girl in a classy red cocktail dress. You were excited about the fitted bodice and the slight flare of the knee length skirt. Vincent was particular about this dress, and the girl that was about to become wax didn’t have anything that fit that vision.

You hummed to yourself as you sewed, enjoying the pace of the activity and the feeling of the fabric under your fingers. You were sequestered to your room in the house, locked, because the boys were dealing with a new group in town. But it was already close to two in the morning, so you decided that you’d stay in your room until sunrise and then you’d go out and look for them.

That concern and worry was quickly flushed away by the sound of the front door slamming shut and familiar big boots stomping up the stairs. You ran up to the door and unlocked it, seeing a sweaty but thankfully not injured Bo.

“Oh thank god.” You said, practically tackling him with your arms around his neck. “You scared the shit out of me, Bo.” You whispered. “Where are Lester and Vincent?”

“They’re alright. They’re in the workshop.”

You pulled away from him and nodded, sighing a breath of relief. As you stared at him, subconsciously scanning for injuries and blood like you were used to, you noticed a giant hole through your perfect sewing.

You reached forward and touched the edges of the tear. “Dammit Bo, I just fixed this! You guys can never keep your clothes in shape.”

“Not exactly my fault, darlin’.”

“Take it off. I already have my stuff out.” You grumbled, moving back towards your chair and moving the dress onto your bed.

“We’re gonna have to tell Vincent that this dress is gonna take longer now because I have to fix your shirt for the ninth time. And he also wants me to make a pair of pants for another sculpture, but-“

“You don’t have to fix it, doll.”

“Take your shirt off, Bo.”

Bo slid his button up off and handed it over to you with a sly smile on his face, chuckling a bit at the fact you were so perturbed at the hole in his shirt. You grabbed his shirt and finally your supplies, sitting back down in your chair to begin sewing.

Just then, you heard more footsteps clunk up the stairs. You looked up from your needle to see Vincent and Lester. And even though you were relieved that they were okay, the stack of drawings in Vincent’s hand, surely new clothes for his new sculptures, made you anything but happy.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #house of wax fanfiction #bo sinclair fanfiction #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair x you

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suguwuus · 8 months

Note

Hii babe!! Omg I’ve been obsessed with your pajama pants book on wattpad for years I can’t believe I found your tumblr, ur my favourite Connor writer.

Anyway I figured I’d send an ask!! Maybe something with a daughter of Aphrodite reader? Could you do protective connor plss, I don’t rly mind the scenario whether it’s creepy guy or like in a battle or whatever.

Thanks so much!! 🩷🩷

HEYYY HII OMG thank u blushes kicks feet!!!

the damsel in distress trope is so outdated and children of aphrodite def have sparkly pink bejeweled weapons so this being set on the battlefield is crossed out of the list. also i dont like the ending but idk ??

edit: im sorry if this didnt meet your expectations of protective connor idk i feel like it's off or boring so feel free to ask for a redo or another one w this situation 😭😭😭😭 not sure if i interpreted ur req right but lmk if i did or if u have anything to say

wc: 1.7k words

contains: erm the general creep u meet while minding ur own business idfk that's literally it

"G'morning, beautiful." Connor smiles down at you as you wake up from your rest. How many hours was that? Three? Four? A few hours as your beauty rest was better than none, so you let that worry go and sucked it up.

"Morning, Connor," you replied, your voice as sweet and smooth as ever. Your resting place today was hidden between two dumpsters behind a convenience store. At first, the idea revolted all three of you on the quest, but the events that followed that night gave you no choice, and the smell would mask your scent from any monsters. Fortunately, you had your perfume balm on you, enchanted to last for days, so smearing the stuff under your noses was a big help to battle the stench of the dumpsters.

You laid a hand on your boyfriend's shoulder. "Feeling better?" After getting into a car crash last night, his body was probably sore. He pulled a muscle in his shoulder, too. His brother Travis was knocked unconscious, so after hauling him through streets, you two had no choice but to seek shelter somewhere hidden. You only found out, when the sun rose, that you were stationed behind a convenience store. Great. Those things were like playgrounds to the sons of Hermes.

Connor stood up and stretched, testing his shoulder. "Yes! Good as new. Man, I wish mortal stores had stuff flavored with something that tastes like ambrosia."

You gazed up at him, pleased with the state he was in now. "Glad to hear," you smiled.

"Wait, they do. I love salt and vinegar chips. Oh, man, I hope Travis finds some."

You wrinkled your nose, but at the mention of food, your stomach growled. Aside from doing your best to nurse the boys back to a decent state last night, you also took first watch. That, and exhausting all your fighting skills, left you hungry.

You rummaged in your bag for a bottle of water to start your day as Connor picked up his. There you found your plastic bag of half-finished ambrosia, a flask of nectar, your first aid kit, your last change of clean clothes, your hair clip that transformed into your celestial bronze crossbow with a beaded charm around the handle, a magic blow-drier for emergencies, and—there it was.

"Travis is inside. Let's go?" Connor held out a hand and helped you up from the ground, and the two of you walked into the convenience store. You caught a glimpse of Travis, but he didn't catch sight of you back. So instead you put your water back into your bag and headed for the bathroom.

There wasn't much work to do. Just a bit of dusting off your pants and a quick wash of your face and hands to feel clean. As always, you looked perfectly put together, roughed up but in a movie star way, thanks to being a daughter of Aphrodite. It was like those scratches and stray hairs framing your face were strategically placed by a personal makeup artist.

Zipping up your jacket in a way that complimented your figure and the rest of your outfit, you nudged the bathroom door closed with your foot on the way out. Neither of the boys were inside anymore. While you scanned the aisles for them, you felt a pair of eyes on you and turned towards the counter to see a toothy man wearing a puffer vest standing in line. "You lost, sweetheart?"

You didn't like how he looked you up and down. How you felt like you were being examined under his stare. You picked it up immediately, and it made your fists tighten. You simply shook your head, then made for the exit.

Travis and Connor were munching away at breakfast sandwiches and bagels. They handed you a sandwich of your choice and a bottle of yogurt drink and you ate it without complaint, the previous occurence quickly disappearing from your mind.

"Thanks," You mumbled, and then peeked into Travis's paper bag. It had even more sandwiches and snacks inside. Quickly, he wrapped them all up and stuffed them in his bag. "Snagged some extras on my way out." He grinned, satisfied with his work.

"Still headed for the next city hall, right?" He asked.

"Mhm." You took a folded up map out of your back pocket and opened it up. "There's a bus stop right there." You nodded in the general direction of the shed, tracing a manicured finger along the map.

You had to be honest, you were only doing that to look cool. Your dyslexia slowed you down in trying to look for your current location.

You followed Travis and Connor to the waiting shed, passing the map to the former. "Let me do that, love," Connor said as you sat down and began to open your yogurt drink. He took his seat beside you and opened your drink for you, passing it back along with a kiss. The gesture made your stomach flutter. No matter how many people would throw themselves at you and try to get your attention, nothing would ever beat the way Connor made you feel with his princess treatment.

However, your mood immediately soured when the guy from inside the convenience store appeared, sitting beside you and doing a little stretch. When he was done, he turned to you and smiled.

"You're a pretty one, you know that?"

The man's voice was gravelly and he sounded like he needed a drink. You kept your eyes on whatever you could stare at on the other side of the street. "Thank you," You replied.

"You here alone?"

"No," You replied, holding back the urge to grit your teeth. You started to tap your designer boots on the concrete, impatiently awaiting the bus.

"Hm. A doll like you shouldn't be here all by yourself."

You didn't reply. Internally, you gagged and made a face and cussed him out for having the audacity.

Connor tensed up beside you; you could feel it. You huffed and checked your nails, bored. Time seemed to go exceptionally slow while you were in this situation.

When you finally forced your head to turn to see why Connor was so pissed, you saw the guy literally ogling you, a smile on his face with dark eyes that seemed to bore into every bit of you they could find.

It was disgusting. You felt disgusting. Your skin crawled.

You crossed your arms over your torso and scowled, trying to seem as unappealing as possible. Desperate times call for desperate measures, or whatever the saying was. You put a hand on Connor's knee to reassure him that you could handle it, and switched on your meanest girl voice.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" You shot the guy your meanest girl glare. It worked, for a second, because the smile melted off his face.

Travis came along, pulling out a pouch where he kept fake ID's and documents in case you needed them. He settled beside Connor, who had draped an arm across your shoulders, and took off his sweater.

The man glanced up at him as he passed by, relentless with his questions. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"No, this is." You moved aside to show Connor. You didn't dare break eye contact with the man, you wanted to show that you weren't afraid.

The man's frown grew deeper. "Well!" He chuckled. "Lucky guy."

Connor cleared his throat beside you. You squeezed his knee, and as curious as you were to see how he looked (because he was hot when he was pissed) you flashed the creep your fakest smile, words laced with poison.

"Your mom never told you not to talk to strangers? It's dangerous, you know." He started to force a laugh, but you cut him off, continuing. "Stop talking, because I don't have any time to waste on you, dickhead."

There was a beat of silence as he processed your words. You cracked a smile and turned back to face the opposite side of the road, satisfied with yourself. But then you heard the rustle of that stupid puffer vest.

"Hey, now, sweetheart, don't be hard. You know, if you're here on vacation, I can tell you a few good places to visit, let me tell you—"

You had just settled your eyes back on your multiple bangles and bracelets when you heard a loud smack from where the man was sitting. Connor stood between you and him and your lips parted in surprise with how quick he was. His hand was raised and the man was clutching his own, face red and showing an expression of pain. You couldn't see Connor's face, since he had his back turned to you, but you could feel how tense the hand that was on your shoulder was.

The bus finally pulled over in front of you. Travis nudged you and Connor took your hand with a stiff one. "C'mon, Y/N, let's go," he said. You eagerly stood up, keeping his hand in yours, but he didn't move. Instead, he waited for the creep to board and when he did so, he looked over his shoulder to steal one last glance at you.

You raised up your middle finger at him, but to your surprise, Connor even gave him a shove further down the aisle as the two of you followed.

Connor and Travis made sure he was seated far, far back in the bus before settling into seats with you. Connor gave you the window seat and the three of you got comfortable, though Connor was still muttering curses under his breath. You sent Travis a thumbs up gesture when he looked at the two of you.

Connor didn't relax even after the bus set off, but he did kick his bag under the seat and take your hand back in his. He planted a kiss on your temple, then your hand. "You alright?"

You nodded. "Nothing I can't handle," You assured him. "Horrible morning, but it's fine."

"Bastard was about to touch you," He muttered, lips moving against the back of your hand. "No one touches my girl if she doesn't like it."

"Mhm." You gave his hand a squeeze back, just as you always do to let him know it's okay.

#guys i don't like the ending #— suguwuu's posts #connor stoll #pjo #connor stoll x reader #pjo x reader #pjo oneshots

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ofstarsandvibranium · 1 year

Text

That Unspoken Thing

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Din have this unspoken thing. You're attracted to his leadership, compassion, care, and strength. He's attracted to your assertiveness, passion, wit, and gentleness. He also likes your firey attitude, albeit it does get you guys into trouble a lot. Based off my imagine here.

Warning: mentions of drowning and

Water. You hated the water. You'll wade it in and drink it. But you would never sail in it...until now.

Din was following a bounty and, to be fair, he did warn you about where the disk was leading him. But you, stubborn as ever, still insisted that you and Grogu follow him.

Now you're on a boat holding onto it for dear life, hoping to whatever beings above that the boat won't topple over and you'd end up in the water.

The fisherman was nice enough to let the three of you on his boat to head to the island where the bounty was supposedly hidden. You couldn't fly to the island because, whoever this bounty was, was skilled enough to send out a signal to shut off any craft flying towards the island. Boats were the safest bet.

A blanket gets draped over you and you look up to see Din staring down at you. You gesture to the fabric, "What's this for?"

"You were shaking like a leaf, cyar'ika. Figured you'd want something to keep you warm." Cyar'ika. He's been calling you that a lot more lately. You asked him what it means and he told you it meant 'close friend' but you're not sure he's fully telling you the truth. When you see Bo again, you'll have to ask her what it means.

You scoff, "Thanks, but I'm not shaking because of the cold. I'm actually sweating like a bantha on Tattooine."

"What's wrong?" you hear the immediate concern in his tone. If you could see his face, you imagine his brows are furrowing right now.

You've always wondered how he'd look. Apparently, he's already had to take off his helmet a few times in the past, but that was before he knew you. You wonder if he would ever take off his helmet for you. It's not like you would ask him to. You respect him and his code. But you can't help but wonder...

"Hey? You with me?" you look back up to see Din standing closer to you, "What's going on?"

You sigh, "Just never been fond of the water. It's dangerous, there's a lot of unknown stuff down there. Plus, I can't swim so I won't survive long if I fall in."

Din's head falls forward and he shakes his head, "If you can't swim, why did you come with me on this bounty?"

"Someone's gotta watch your back! Right, kid?" you look to Grogu and he nods, "See! He agrees with me!"

Din gives another shake of disapproval, "You shouldn't put your life in danger like this. I'm not worth it."

"Of course you are, and you put yourself in danger for us all the time. Someone needs to take care of you too, Din." You look at his visor, hoping that you're staring into his eyes and you're silently telling him how much you care for him.

"Brace yourselves! We've got some pirates headed our way!" the fisherman yelled.

"Pirates?!" you stand up in disbelief.

You rush up to the fisherman who's trying to speed the boat up, "What do they want?"

"Anything we may have valuable."

Din appears at your side with Grogu in his arms, "Take Grogu and go below."

"What? No! We can help!"

"Do as I say and go!" he hands you Grogu and pulls out his blaster. With his jetpack, he's in the air, firing shots at the oncoming pirates.

You look down at the little one in your arm and he's looking back up at you with concern, "We're helping him." You set him down on a crate and pull your own blaster and knife out.

A group of them are piling onto the boat and you're firing off your blaster. You look over your shoulder to see the fisherman also came prepared with a blaster of his own.

When you turn back around, you see a Rodian headed towards you. You run in its direction as well, immediately jumping and kick it with all of your might. You two fall back and you swiftly get up, kicking it in the head to knock it out.

You're immediately grabbed from behind and they're a lot bigger than you.

You're kicking and yelling. Your hand goes to your holster and your blaster isn't there. You see it on the ground, too far away for you to get.

You stomp the the creature's foot, causing it to howl in pain. You're released from its hold and you yell in triumph, "Take that, you brute!" In anger, the creature marches back towards you, picks you up, and throws you overboard.

Once you hit the water, you're done for. You're flailing your arms in a panic. You're swallowing water. You hear the sounds of blasters firing off in the distance. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

You get tired quickly and the waves of the water are too powerful.

You find yourself sinking. The surface of the water moving farther and farther away.

This is it. This is how you die.

You see something else enter the water. It's probably a pirate.

You hope that Grogu and Din are safe at least. You close your eyes and accept your fate.

__________________

Din saw you get thrown overboard and his heart sunk. You can't swim.

Adrenaline hits him tenfold and he's able to immobilize the last bit of pirates left. They're either unconscious or thrown overboard.

With his jetpack, Din dives into the water where you landed and he spots you immediately. He grabs onto your hand and pulls you into his arms. The jetpack doesn't do well under water but it has enough power to bring the two of you to the surface.

The fisherman throws down a rope and Din holds onto it with one hand and you with the other. With Grogu's help via the Force, the two of them manage to pull you and Din back onto the boat with no problem.

Once back up, Din immediately lays you on your back, leaning in to listen for you breathing. You weren't.

He didn't give a second thought as he immediately took off his helmet and proceeded with mouth to mouth.

"Come on, come on!" he cries out as he breaths into your mouth and pumps down onto your chest, "Wake up, please. Please, cyar'ika!" Beloved. You were his beloved and he can't lose you. Not now. Not when he hasn't even told you how he felt.

You can't give up on him now. You two had gone through so much together. You were there for him during the period where Grogu was away. You watched his back. You care for him and he cared for you. Kriff, did he care for you so much. You were there and if you're not there anymore...he doesn't know what he'll do.

You suddenly spit up water and your eyes are open. They're wide with shock and a little bit of fear as you're coughing and gasping for air. Din couldn't help but give a breath of relief.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, cyar'ika. You're okay. You're safe now."

You look up at the man reassuring you. He has stubble on his face, brown eyes and brown hair with some grey littered in it. You try to register who this man is. When you open your mouth to speak, the first thing you say is, "Who the hell are you?!"

Din can't help but chuckle at your reaction, "It's me, cyar'ika." Even after nearly drowning, you still have that attitude of yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise, "Wait, Din?"

You reach out, but hesitate. With a gloved hand, Din brings your hand to his cheek. You can't help but gasp. His skin was warm, you feel the prickle of his stubble against your palm.

"Wow. It's you," you say in disbelief, "You're not ugly at all."

Din's brows furrowed in confusion, "You imagined me ugly?"

"No, I mean, you said you didn't think you were much to look at, but I highly disagree."

Din playfully rolls his eyes, "Well you're clearly fine." He goes to reach for his helmet but you stop him, "Wait. Lemme-Lemme just look at you for a little longer." You sit up and hold his face in both your hands. His eyes flutter shut as your fingers begin to trace over his jaw, his nose, his brow. He feels his face heat up from this. Your touch is gentle and soft. This is so...intimate.

He suddenly feels your forehead pressing against his. His heart starts to flutter. He knows you know what this means. He told you himself what it means after seeing a few mandalorians do it themselves.

You lean back, eyes open and staring at Din. His breathing is heavy now. He's so overwhelmed with what just happened, this mind flooded with you.

"Cyar'ika, I-"

"It's okay. I know." You reach down and grab his helmet, "Thank you, for saving me." You press a kiss to his helmet and hold it out for him.

"Always," he says with a nod, his eyes soft, but you know, you know what he means.

He promptly slips the helmet back on and stands, helping you up on your feet as well.

You sigh and glance at Grogu, "So much for helping him, I guess," you give a shrug and proceed to help the fisherman toss off any incapacitated pirates that were left on his ship.

#din djarin x reader #mando x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

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brighttears · 3 months

Text

Cleardune Chapter 6: Final Frontier

Joel Miller x f!reader

no physical description, no use of y/n

Summary: Suddenly, the day of reckoning is upon you, when you meet Joel in the barn to find him with his bags packed. You’re forced to ask him the question that’s been tugging at your brain since you first met him, unsure of what his answer will be. Will he stay? Will he go? Will he take you with him?

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: pet names obviously (darling, sweetheart, love, angel), cunnilingus

A/n: the end!!! Part of this is actually the thing that started the whole fic lol. Hope y'all have enjoyed reading this as much as i have writing it <<33

Series masterlist

—

You’re in the same position you’d fallen asleep in when you wake up the next morning to the streaming daylight, feeling like you could use an extra hour or two, but rested enough to get yourself out of bed and on to cook breakfast, humming to yourself as the eggs fry.

“What’re you all happy about this morning?” Pa grumbles when he walks in, poking his cup forward as he sits down at the table.

“Just, um, can’t get Bo’s piano playing out of my head.” You lie as you pour his coffee.

“Mm.” Is his gruff reply as he takes a loud sip.

What, I can’t be happy? Had tempted your lips, but it was easier to let go of this morning, a flippant who cares? following the thought. So, you just continue with the eggs, settling into the silence of breakfast.

—

As soon as Joel enters the saloon, he gets a few greetings, now suddenly popular in the eyes of the regulars that you realize might be just as bored to death in this town as you are. He throws up waves, but his eyes are set on you as he comes to lean over the bar with a smile on his face.

“Listen,” he starts, keeping his tone for your ears only, “I’ve got some things to tend to this afternoon, but I’ll be at the barn at dusk, meet me there.”

Smiling at the idea of him making time for you, you nod. With a smirk, Joel winks, and then he’s gone back through the saloon doors.

It’s a bit disappointing, having him come and go so quick, but, the thought of him waiting for you at the end of the day is enough to take the edge off of the bore that the saloon never ceases to be, though everyone seems to be in just a tad higher spirits. It, you then realize, is Joel’s effect, having raised so many hearty laughs the day before, and you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips as you recognize the graceful cheer that he trails through town.

—

Dusk is just setting in when you head to the barn, a smile on your face, waiting to see Joel’s. But, once you do, there’s something about him that makes it fall, head tilting in question. You’re met with no smile, Joel instead passing his tongue over his teeth behind closed lips, arms crossed and shoulders unusually hunched as he leans against Petunia’s stall, looking at the floor. The last thing you notice, the detail that stops you in your tracks, is the clearly packed satchels sitting next to his feet.

Your lungs squeeze. “You’re leaving.”

Joel turns himself to you slowly, moving his hands to his hips. He keeps his eyes on the ground. “I wanted to say goodbye before I do.” After a pause, time and your lungs frozen, he opens Petunia’s stall and brings her out, already tacked up and ready to go.

You take quick steps to him, but they’re uneven and stuttered, all of you reeling. Words fail you.

You knew very well this was coming, but the weight of it hadn’t hit you until this moment. Maybe you’d been protecting yourself, or maybe you were just fooling yourself, believing in the back of your mind that he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t leave you. He couldn’t. But here he is. And it seems so easy for him to.

“Well, where are you going?” You ask, breathing unevenly, though you know the answer. You feel small and sound smaller, the desperation audible no matter how much you try to hide it.

Joel pauses, both hands on the saddle. He doesn't look at you when he speaks. “Don’t know. Never do.”

You don’t even let a beat go by before you ask, “Can I come with you?”

There it is, hanging in the air. Finally, you’ve said it. It’s a confession and a request all in one. Awaiting his reply, your heart beats against your ribcage like a prisoner at the bars. The seconds that pass feel like ages.

“Your pa wouldn’ like that very much.”

Replying quickly, you huff, waving your hand dismissively, “He’ll find someone else to mind the bar, he won’t even know I'm gone.” Joel turns to you, “Now, you and I both know that’s not right. He sure will know you’re missin’. And he sure will care. He’s your pa.” He ends with assertion, as if him being your father meant anything more than blood.

“He doesn’t care about me!” You rebut, gesturing your arms out in flustered frustration. “All he cares about is that I work for him. I’m just a body, who’s mother died.”

“Now why would you say that? That man’s purpose is to protect you. Take care of you. A father loves his daughter. No matter what.” He assets, almost stern.

“He doesn’t want me, Joel.” You reply, just as stern. “He told me so.” After a long beat, feeling like this is your last chance to say anything at all to him before he’s gone forever, you ask the only question left. It comes out mousy, “…Do you want me? Do you want to be with me?”

Again, your question hangs. For a few solid moments, all he does is look you evenly in the eyes. Then, in one swift movement, his arms are around your waist, and he kisses you.

He tastes just the same as he always does, but you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of it. Joel’s warm arms encapsulate you—everything about him does, completely.

This is the man you want to be with until the day you die. It occurs to you then, sure, true, and certain.

When he pulls away, still close enough to feel the breath from his lips on yours, voice quiet and low, he speaks, “I do.” The words swirl and echo in your mind; a gift, it feels like—something finally for you. One thing in this life that’s yours, that means a choice for you. It feels like freedom. To be with Joel, anywhere, for as long as you live. You don’t care how rough the road gets, you don’t care how cold the desert is at night, that there are dangers out there that you’ve never seen, that you’ll never see your father again, this town again, that you’ll never set another foot in that damn bar. You want to leave it all behind. You want to leave with him. No one else. All these years you’ve daydreamed about running away, you could never do it. But with him, you can.

“Then take me with you.” You whisper back. “Please.”

“You don’t know what’s out there.” His voice is low and full of warning, but his arms are still around you, so you quickly reply, “I don’t care, as long as I’m with you.”

Slowly, he kisses you again, simply resting his lips against yours, but harder than before, and when he pulls back, his breath is heavier.

He nods once. “Go get your things, and meet me back here.” He whispers lowly, like a secret, and you’re instantaneously giddy. “I’ll be waiting.” He holds you for another moment before concluding, “I won’t leave without you.” And you swear you’ll remember those words for as long as you live, just the way he said them. Then he loosens his arms, and you nod before pulling away and walking quickly out of the barn.

You run back to the saloon in increments, intermittently losing control of your excitement. As you pass through the town, even though you know you’ll never see any of it again, you don’t take a single look around you. You’re ready to go. To start a new life.

Climbing the tree back up to your window, you think it’s the one thing you’ll miss. This tree that you’ve watched grow since you were a girl, that has grown with you as you’ve climbed it, the one thing in this whole damn town that’s been supporting you all these years, even if it’s only been your weight.

Inside, you hurriedly throw the belongings you deem worth taking into the satchel that’d remained empty for years. In front of the bureau, you pause, dancing your finger over the framed picture of your mother.

You wonder what she would think of this, what she would think of Joel. You think she’d like him. If she knew how things are now, you think she’d want you to go. There’s nothing for you here, and a big world wide world out there, just waiting for you to go see it. With the man you love, and the only man who has ever truly made you feel loved.

Carefully, you wrap the picture in your nicest dress and shove it into the bag before hastily climbing back out of your window and down the tree, letting yourself drop to the ground. For a moment, you pause again, running your hand over the bark. Your fingers run over the old notches left on the trunk where you scrawled your name here some years ago with the big buck knife you stole from your father. Nearly cut yourself doing it, but it got the job done. And although the jagged lines have mutated your name some as the tree has grown with them, here it remains. Your one true mark on this town.

You leave it there, and let yourself run to the barn.

Joel is waiting, as promised, leaning against Petunia’s stall with her still out and ready. When he sees you, he cracks a smile, those lips the only thing you can see from the orange barn light over his hat. You stop just a few feet from him, waiting for him to tell you again that he wants you, that he’s taking you with him.

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” He asks, still with that smirked smile as he steps away from the stall.

“Yes.” You answer simply, feeling yourself grin.

“Well, come on, then.” He cocks his head towards Petunia, and your grin widens as you come up to her for Joel to hoist you on before mounting himself in front of you.

As Petunia starts out of the barn, he looks back at you and smiles, and you wrap your arms around him, resting your cheek on his back, and close your eyes.

You’ll wait to open them until the town is out of sight. You don’t care for it at all anymore. No sentimentality, no bitter sweet. It’s already gone to you. Now, all there is is you, Joel, Petunia, and the open country.

You’ve never been more than a few miles outside of town, but as you ride out into the night, that cool breeze washing over your face, it feels like it’s where you belong.

You belong with Joel. Anywhere, with him.

More than anything, you want this new life. You want adventure. And you want Joel. It feels like this is how it was always meant to be; you were so quickly taken by him because meeting him is what you’re meant for. Your heart knew it before your mind did, and thank god for its persistence, and for your surrender. Later, you’ll ask him if he feels the same. At this point, there’s little fear left in you of what you can say to him. Your heart and brain are finally in agreement that it’s not just you being foolish, he’s not taking you for no reason. You’re with him now, and if he wasn’t ready for that, if he didn’t want it, you know he wouldn’t do it. But here you are, riding off into the night, this cowboy with his girl on his back.

Still with your eyes closed, you kiss his leathered back, and squeeze him tighter.

After only a few minutes out of town, Joel answers every question by telling you, “There’s no one else I’d dare take with me out here. Never even honestly considered it before. But you, my darlin’... you’re the one. And I swear on everythin’, I will keep you safe. …Darlin’, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.” Feeling Petunia slow to a halt, you open your eyes to him turning his head back towards you. “I’m telling you that now,” he says, looking at you over his shoulder, “because I’m givin’ you the chance to change your mind. I’ll take you right back home.” He pauses, sighing as he glances to the town behind you. “So, here’s your chance.”

All you can help but do is smile.

“My plan is to stay with you as long as you’ll let me.”

Joel grows a wide smile back, those brown eyes twinkling, “That’d be a very long time, sweetheart.”

“God willing, a very, very, very long time.”

He chuckles. “God willing.” He sighs again, then says, “C’mere,” so you lean up to smack a kiss to his lips, “Alright, let’s ride, sweet thing.” He taps his heels on Petunia’s sides, “Hold on!” And you’re off, racing through the desert, your face hurting as you laugh.

—

You rode through the night, exhilarated by the growing distance between you and Cleardune keeping you laughing and grinning until your cheeks couldn’t take it anymore. Just after sunrise, you’d spotted a small piece of land, a dilapidated house next to a barn in even worse shape. As you rode up to investigate, you found that it was abandoned. Joel told you that there’s a dotting of houses like this over the flatlands you’d wandered into, where the drought that hit a few years ago wrecked the small population of farmers. So, you decided to take a break and set Petunia up in one of the weak but still standing stalls in the large barn. Then, with nothing but a smile, Joel took your hand and led you to the ladder up into the hayloft to guide you to the large window at the front, pointing out with his other hand on the small of your back.

“See that?”

After spotting it, you turn to him. “Is that Cleardune?” You ask, wonderstruck.

He grins and nods. “Sure is. You know what that means? You belong to the open country now, darlin’.

Turning to enclose yourself in his arms, you correct him, “I belong to you now.”

He huffs a chuckle, “I wouldn’t say it like that.”

“I would.”

Joel tilts his head, the edge of his lip tugged up, looking at you through his lashes. “Would you now?”

“I would.”

He pauses, looking over your face with that same expression. He looks a bit floored, but not perturbed. No, as his hands tighten on your waist, he looks galvanized. And just like that, you're laid over a hay bale, dress pushed up to your neck, one warm, calloused hand on your breast, the other holding onto your thigh slung over his shoulder, and you’re cumming against his mouth.

As you heave breaths, you flutter your eyes open to the sunlight bathing you from the window. “Oh,” you let out absently, sighing at the warmth it spreads over your bare chest. You let your head fall back into the hay, unbothered by its scratch against your back.

Content. Completely and utterly content.

Joel lays wet kisses up your stomach, and you sigh again, ruffling his hair with a lazy hand.

And then you hear it, the words flowing into your ears like a song.

“I love you.”

Your hands climb through his hair, a deep breath raising your chest against his face. “You love me?” You ask quietly, eyes pulling open.

“I love you.” He repeats in a whisper, his lips making their way up to your neck, scruff against your skin. “I love you.”

Realizing his words, you take his face up to your hands. His eyes are half shaded by his lids, shining lips parted as he looks over your face.

It felt like you’d said it before, having been thinking it for so long, but you remember that you haven’t yet.

“I love you,” it jumps out, and then your lips are all over his, pecking in between more “I love you, I love you, I love you.”’s.

Joel slides his arms under your back, the cool leather of his jacket replacing the course hay, and lays his torso over yours while kneeled in front of the hay bale. With a sigh, he presses his lips against yours, resting there for a moment before he pulls away and turns his head to bring his cheek down to rest his cheek on your chest. Closing your eyes, you sigh at the feeling, running your hands through his hair.

It’s bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

When he speaks, his soft tone rumbles through your chest.

“I almost made the biggest mistake of my life last night. Thought I could be without you, but every time I think about what it’d be like to be out here knowin’ you were still in Cleardune… I dunno.” He pauses, “Probably would have come right back for you.”

“I was so afraid I’d never see you again, Joel.” You whisper while you play with his hair, the expired pain and worry still audible in your voice.

“So was I.”

“Then why did you almost do it? Why did you try to disappear?”

He pauses. “I was afraid. Guess I hadn’t grown up as much as I thought I had. But I fixed it, honey. Learned my lesson with you.”

“What were you so afraid of?” You inquire softly, ghosting a braid in his locks.

“I guess… I’ve never had a partner out here. Always been alone. And I know how to handle myself, but if I’ve got someone else… someone I love, I just… don’t have any practice trying to keep someone else safe, too. But I swear, darlin’,” he whispers, holding you a little tighter, “you won’t come into any harm while I have you with me.” He pauses, drawing soft spirals over your skin. “I’ll teach you how to shoot. How to ride. Hey, we can get you your own horse, baby. Maybe find that stallion back East.” You chuckle. “Teach you how to hunt n’ how to handle trouble in town. How to keep the peace, but how to know when it’s a lost cause. Teach you how to fight. How to run. Everythin’, darlin’, everythin’ you need to know. And maybe we’ll… we’ll find somewhere to settle down. That’s what we should really do. Hm?” He asks, looking up at you as he moves his arm from around your back to take your wrist in his hand to kiss.

Looking back down at him, you whisper, watching his lips hover over your skin, “I thought you never wanted to settle down? Get too restless?”

Joel sighs again, then whispers back, “You know what, darlin’, I think it was just that… I always felt like I was searchin’ for somethin’, but I could never find it. And I think it was you. I think you were that thing. And I’ve found you. And I wanna keep you. And I wanna settle down with you. Get a plot of land somewhere. And live out the rest of my days with you.”

Leaning your head back, you close your eyes and smile wide, close to chuckling at the sheer joy humming in your chest.

“Wha’d’ya think, sweetheart?”

“I think you’re a dream come true, Joel Miller.”

Chuckling, Joel wraps his arms back around your back to hold you tighter. “No, no, that’s all you, love. S’ all you.” He pauses. “Just a shame it took this damn long to find you. But I did. I finally found you, my darlin’. My angel. My final frontier.”

You laugh, feeling the reverberation against his weight over your torso. “That would make you my first. Told you, I’ve never been out of that town.”

“Well, I guess I should show you some of the country before we find somewhere to stay.”

“I would very much like that.” Still smiling, you sigh, “God, there's a whole world out there I’ve never seen.”

“I’ll take you. Darlin’, I’ll show you the stars—hell, I’d ride us right up into the moon if you asked me too.”

“No,” you chuckle lightly, leaning your neck to look down at him again and placing your hands in his hair, “down here’s just fine. Just as long as I’m with you.”

“God,” Joel sighs, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “never stop saying that, darlin’.”

“Never stop saying what?”

“That you wanna be with me.”

You kiss the top of his head and whisper, “I’ll tell you every day for the rest of my life.”

Joel sighs, kissing your bare skin again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” Joel speaks, barely above a whisper, but it swirls like smoke inside your head. “God, I love you.”

And this is it, you think to yourself as you run your hands through his hair, his head shifting to press soft lips against warm skin, this is what you were waiting for. And it was worth it, all those dead days, there was a reason for every one of them, and it's the smell of hay, the dust particles dancing in the streaming golden sun, the arms holding you close, and your one and only true love whispering, I love you, I love you, I love you, darlin’, I love you, and your voice finally coming out to whisper back, I love you, I love you, I love you, Joel Miller, I love you.

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