#sending postcards from a plane crash | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thollandsgirl2013 · 4 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐞-𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬*

Parings → Nathan Drake x Reader

Warnings → Smut!! 18+ , unprotected sex (don't do it), riding, language.

Summary → Nate and you share an intimate, tension-relieving moment after his frustration over Sam's clues.

You sit beside Nate on the couch in the dimly lit hotel room in the Philippines, still feeling the warmth of your recent shower. The soft white towel robe clings loosely to your body as you glance over at him. He's shirtless, his eyes fixated on the scattered postcards from his brother Sam, his fingers tracing the worn edges, searching for a hidden clue. You notice the tension in his shoulders, the bruises from the plane fall still fresh and raw.

“There has to be something here. A cypher, an anagram, anything! Sam wouldn’t just leave me hanging like this.” Nate mutters in frustration, his brows furrowed, rubbing a hand across his face.

You gently rub his bare back, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. “Hey, babe, calm down. You’re so tense.”

He barely glances up, still lost in thought. “I just—he wouldn’t send these for no reason. We’re missing something.”

“Nate.” Your hand moves in slow circles over his back, trying to ease the tension. “You need to relax. You’ve been at this for hours.”

Nate lets out a deep sigh, clearly agitated. “I can’t. Not until I figure this out.”

You smile softly, leaning closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his bruised shoulder. He stiffens for a moment, but you don’t stop. Your lips move slowly, softly, up to his neck. His skin tastes of salt, the faint scent of sweat and sea still clinging to him. You feel him shudder under your touch.

“You’re so tense,” you murmur against his skin, your lips grazing his ear now. “Let me help you relax.”

He finally looks at you, his breath catching in his throat as your lips find that spot just below his jaw. “You—” he starts, but his words falter as you continue your gentle assault. “You’re not playing fair.”

Your lips curve into a teasing smile. “I’m not trying to.”

Nate moves so fast you barely have time to react. In one swift motion, he turns, pulling you into his lap. His hands grip your hips, and you can already feel his arousal pressing against you, hot and insistent. His lips crash against yours, hungry, desperate. You can feel the urgency in his kiss, the way his hands roam your body as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You always know how to drive me crazy,” he growls between kisses, his lips moving to your neck, sucking and biting gently, sending sparks of pleasure down your spine.

“You need to de-stress,” you whisper breathlessly, your hands threading through his hair as he moves lower, his lips trailing over your collarbone.

Nate doesn’t respond with words, but his actions speak louder. His hands tug at the loose knot of your robe, pulling the fabric down over your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the cool air. His eyes darken as he takes you in, his lips curling into a wicked smile before he leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

A gasp escapes your lips, your body arching toward him as he sucks, his other hand cupping your other breast, his thumb circling your nipple in teasing strokes. The sensation is almost too much, your body tingling with need.

“Nate,” you moan softly, your hands gripping his shoulders as he switches sides, giving the same attention to your other breast.

His hand slides down your waist, pulling the ribbon of your robe free before tossing the fabric to the floor. You’re fully exposed to him now, but there’s no hesitation, no insecurity. Only heat. Only want.

Nate’s hands move to his pants, fumbling as he hastily pulls them down, kicking them off along with his boxers. His erection stands hard and ready, and you can’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation rush through you.

Without a word, you lift yourself up, your hands resting on his shoulders as you slowly sink down onto him. The feeling is overwhelming, the perfect mix of pleasure and pain as you take him in fully, your bodies joining as one.

Nate groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you both pause for a moment, savoring the sensation. “Fuck, this is the best feeling ever,” he mutters, his voice low and husky, his eyes locking with yours.

You lean down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, your bodies beginning to move together, slow at first, but building with intensity. Every thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, your moans mixing with his as you ride him, your bodies in perfect sync.

“This is definitely the best way to de-stress,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the tension slowly melt from his body as you roll your hips, drawing another groan from his throat.

Nate’s hands grip your waist, guiding your movements as his lips trail down your neck once more, biting and sucking, marking you as his. “I should get stressed more often,” he teases, his voice breathless, his words interrupted by a gasp as you quicken your pace.

Your only response is a breathless laugh, your hands tangling in his hair as you press your forehead against his, your bodies moving faster, the pleasure building, rising until it becomes unbearable.

“Fuck, Nate—” you moan, your nails digging into his skin as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers, his voice rough, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he thrusts up into you, harder, faster. “I’ve got you.”

And with one final thrust, you fall over the edge together — your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash through you, Nate’s name spilling from your lips.

Beneath you, he lets out a deep, guttural moan, his hands digging into your hips as he follows you over the edge, spilling into you with a hot, pulsing warmth that leaves you both breathless. You collapse against him, hearts racing in sync, bodies still tangled as the aftershocks ripple through you.

Nate holds you close, his chest heaving as he presses soft kisses to your forehead, his hands stroking your back gently.

“You definitely know how to help a guy relax,” he murmurs with a satisfied grin, his voice warm with affection.

You smile, kissing his jaw as you rest against his chest, both of you still basking in the afterglow. “Just doing my job.”

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “You’re too good to me.”

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

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narwal-ed-in · 1 year ago

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ARMY GLITTERATI - (Band of Brothers x Bimbo!Reader)

✨glitterati✨- /ˌɡlɪt̬.əˈrɑː.t̬i/ - 1940's slang for famous people, glamorous people, in the spotlight.

Summary: “You want to become a combat medic for the 101st?” “What, like it's hard?”

Warning: Period typical sexism, Fem reader, she/her pronouns, slight body shaming (not directed at reader). NO BETA READ. I WROTE THIS JUST NOW SO PLEASE DON'T EXPECT MUCH.

No disrespect to the real veterans of WW2, all my BoB fanfics are based on depictions by actors in the miniseries.

Borders by @plutism

BEFORE TACCOA

The war is raging and everyone is doing their part to help the men on the front.

For you, that mostly meant trying to look your best at all times, no matter how inconvenient the situation.

"Looking good is a ginormous part of the war effort, it's good for boosting troop morale. I saw it on a poster at the teaching hospital" You reasoned with your father after he complained about you buying another pair of shoes and some expensive vanishing creams.

"Darling, I think they meant that we should all keep our appearances up, not buy out our local department stores"

"Oh my god daddy, you're suffocating me! I'm just doing my part by looking nice..." you glare at your father in his work clothes and eye him with a grimace "...and clearly you're not"

When you get a telegram informing you that you've been selected to participate in a program that aims to send female medics into combat you jump on it.

This is going to be so much fun.

"I'm going to be the talk of the town when everyone finds out. Not even Reverend Smiths boring old story about dying for ten minutes in a car crash and seeing Jesus will be able to outdo this!"

Your supervisors at the hospital are shocked that you've been chosen, seeing as you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

You had once walked out of an operation because it was bloody and you were wearing white (all the nurse uniforms are white).

You hoped you wouldn't be assigned to the army or the airforce.

The army is too basic, and if you were stuck on an airbase somewhere then nobody would be able to see how fab you always were.

The navy was your goal, their uniforms were sooo cute, you were just dreaming of all the ways you could style it.

It's just your luck when you get assigned to airborne.

"THIS BLOWS! I'm in the two most unglamorous branches at the same time"

After your initial breakdown you realized it wasn't that bad. If you were jumping out of planes it just meant that your hotness would have a bigger audience since it would literally be raining down from the sky.

"When the Germans see all this falling from the sky, they're going to flip their friggin wigs! AHHHH"

CONNECTING WITH EASY

You're assigned to Easy company and meet the men a few months into their training at Camp Toccoa.

You show up randomly in the middle of the day.

Although the men had been told a woman would be joining them and they had been expecting you, they hadn't been expecting YOU.

You were a ditzy thing and looked like you’d jumped out of one of their pin up postcards. The brass surely couldn't expect them to put their lives in your hands.

"I'm sooo happy to meet everyone. You know, the other girls in the program are such massive liars, they said airborne was where all the uggos went, but that's so not true. After all, I'm here"

You always woke up an hour earlier than the rest of Easy so you would have time to put your face on.

It was one of your tenets to never be seen by anyone outside of family without makeup on, or with your curlers in.

Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, Shifty, Bull, Christenson, Lip and Winters had all been kind to you from the beginning, expecting nothing in return.

But some of the guys had other ideas.

George was one of the men that befriended you initially. And although he did have the ulterior motive of getting it on with you, he eventually stuck around because he actually liked you.

You guys have great play-flirting banter and you're both very entertaining people to be around, especially when you're drunk.

On the rare nights anyone gets passes they want to be around you and George because they know that's where the funs at.

You get sloppy drunk with George, flirt with men from Easy and other companies all night, then end up with your shoes off at 3am, sitting on the curb and crying about one of your ex boyfriends.

Perconte was one of your original detractors but when you found yourselves making the same brain dead comments about obvious things, you both decided to put your two half braincells together to form the singular braincell you share between yourselves.

Talbert was trying to get into your pants instantly. Nobody was surprised.

But just like George he grew to be genuinely fond of you.

What was surprising was Joe Toye taking you under his wing.

Toye could see that you were absolutely clueless and the worst part was, you had no idea.

Toye couldn't bear the agony of watching you skip around camp with your happy-go-lucky attitude, harping on about celebrity gossip nobody cared about.

"Y/N!" Toye yelled as you all got dressed to run Currahee "Why the hell is your PT shirt pink?!"

"Isn't it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen, Joe? I put a red handkerchief in with my laundry. Cosmo said carnation pink is the color of the summer"

Huffing and puffing, Toye took out one of his spare shirts and forced you to wear it.

"And when you give it back, it better not be fucking 'flamingo pink'" Toye said.

"Oh honey, this isn't 1939, flamingo pink is so over. I wouldn't be caught dead in that. You know, Joe, sometimes I feel like you don't care about fashion at all" You scoff at his cluelessness as you walk out.

Joe Toye is secretly your best friend in the company.

Toye taking you in meant Gaurnere and Johnny Martin had to be around you, much to their chagrin.

They didn't want some girl hanging off of them.

You win Gaurnere's respect when you coach him on what to write to his girlfriend back home to assure her that he's serious about their relationship when she began doubting his intentions.

And you win Johnny's respect when you help him find the most romantic gift for his wife for valentines day.

"Y'know, back home they call me the love doctor...Well, they used to, before I told Betsy Kline that Rob Jones was her soulmate but then he left her at the altar to elope with his housekeeper"

Sobel despised you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

Not wearing your red lipstick everyday was torture, but you had to stick to natural colours so Sobel wouldn't be able to tell what you had on.

He tried with everything in his power to get you kicked out, but much to everyones surprise, you kept up extrordinarily well with the men when it came to physical training.

"I do a lot of Pilates. It's really good for flexibility and helps you keep a positive outlook so you're not be such a 'negative nancy' all the time. Some of you could really use it. Some more than others..." you said as you side-eyed Skinny who just looked around incredulously

Eventually most of the men come to consider you a friend and a confidante since you give remarkably sound relationship advice.

"It's like sooo hard being the smartest person and the hottest catch in this camp at the same time"

The hardest nuts to crack in your immediate friend group end up being Leibgott, Cobb and Doc Roe, all for different reasons of course.

Leib was snide and arrogant and spoke to you like you were a silly little girl.

He didn't shy away from telling you how dumb he thought you were to your face.

Your relationship eventually becomes friendly but he will still be mean occasionally.

He always ends up apologising though and feels really bad when he makes you cry (the other guys nearly bite his head off whenever this happens).

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, stop being a baby already. I said I was sorry" Lieb said to you as you cried into your pillow.

"You can say sorry to me, Joey, but how are you going to tell Rita Hayworth you're sorry for saying nobody cares about her nighttime face washing routine?" You spoke inbetween sobs.

"I ain't saying sorry to Rita because I ain't sorry I said it. I stand by what I said. Nobody cares how some broad washes up at night"

"You take that back! That routine saved my life" You jumped up, pointing an accusing finger at the man.

"How the fu-"

"You're a horrible, horrible man Joseph Leibgott"

"Oh put a sock in it" Leib rolled his eyes, making you cry even harder.

Toye, ever protective of you, had enough "I swear to god Leibgott, leave that girl alone!"

Cobb was just straight up cruel to you and made sure you always knew "your place".

Roe didn't seem particularly close to anyone.

But as you all of you went into the more specialised aspects of your training and you and Roe spent more time together, he found himself looking out for you.

You were sitting alone on the grass after everyone had groaned and walked off the moment you started talking about an article you read in a magazine.

You sigh sadly, pulling at the grass when a shadow falls over you.

Bringing up a hand to block the sun you finally recognize who it is. It's Eugene Roe.

"I, uh, I was wondering if I could sit with you?" he asked.

You nodded excitedly and he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"What was it you were telling the others?"

You gasped "You really want to know?"

"I guess…"

Doc had seen everyone walk away, and although he didn't care much for mindless conversation, he knew talking to people meant a lot to you and had come over to cheer you up.

Without missing a beat you began one of your famous tirades.

By the end of your first year in Toccoa you end up finding your place.

Thanks for reading! Please like, comment and reblog if you want❤️

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