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erosology · 1 year

Note

Hi :). Ugh, I absolutely loved your könig fic. If it’s not too much trouble, König with a breeding kink?? tysm💕✨

when i tell you i've been absolutely bonkers lately thinking of this... you're an evil genius and i thank you for that <;3 (also couldn't resist little hints of obsessive behavior and maybe a teeny tiny bit of submissive könig for a few lines maybe perhaps)

cw/tw: NSFT, fem reader (AFAB anatomy, referred to as “mutter”, “mama”), talks of impregnating and being pregnant, könig kinda tosses reader around a lil bit, size kink, some marking (biting, scratching), a teeny tiny bit of choking if you squint, maybe even a lil bit of dumbification, very enthusiastic consent, implied no condom usage, not proof read bcoz my coochie wrote this, uhhh i think that's it?

König has never been one to try and push boundaries. Though he isn’t shy by any means when it comes to exploring things in the bedroom, he’s all too aware of how easy it would be to accidentally hurt you, and he’s not sure how he would cope with that guilt. He doesn’t think he could handle it, truth be told, because he’s gentle by nature; always placing tender kisses wherever his lips will reach while his fingers wander, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he lowers his cock into you, making sure to provide you with snacks and water and comfort after every time you’ve spent lost in each other. He’s worked hard to earn your trust, and he’d rather bite his own tongue off than have your faith in him waiver

But he can’t deny that there are times he wants to let loose a little, to throw caution to the wind and fuck you without a worry in the world, to toss the condom to the side and bury himself in you so deeply neither of you are sure where he ends and you begin. It’s damn near painful to hold himself back, bite marks marred into his bottom lip serving as evidence of his restraint, but he does it with pride

That is, until the night you tell him it’s okay to let inhibitions go and allow instinct to take over

“Mein schatz, you feel so good,” König pants into your ear as he continues to thrust into you. “S-S-So fucking good. Oh my god, schnucki, I want to stay inside of you forever”

Two weeks without seeing each other has left you leaving open-mouthed kisses on each other’s bodies before König could even fully unlace his boots, all hungry teeth clashing and tongues raving until clothes were strewn about and restraint was left at the doorway. Pictures and video chat could never replicate the peace of having him with you, hovering over you with his stormy eyes boring into yours, his heart slamming against his chest as if it were trying to reach you. König, your König, with his calloused hands caressing your thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders. König with his scarred chest heaving and panting as he drills his throbbing cock into you. König with his addictive lips kissing and nibbling on your calves as you whine and wither beneath him. König with his rough voice spilling out praises and groans all over your body

König, König, König

Nothing could do him justice, truly, especially not blurry pictures and hushed phone calls late at night

“P-Please, König,” you whimper underneath him, and somehow find the strength to shimmy your legs down and attempt to wrap them around his waist, effectively trapping him. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop, please”

“Wouldn’t dream of it” One of his hands comes down to cup your cheek, and you twist your face so you can kiss his calloused palm. A breath catches itself in his chest, and he lets out a low groan before dipping his head down into the crevice of your neck. “Do you know what you do to me, liebling, how crazy you make me? God, du bist schön” You are beautiful. And god, does he mean it. More beautiful than any sunset, any summer storm, any night sky he has ever had the privilege to see. He thinks you might be an angel. He knows, at the very least, one is envious of you

Your legs around him tighten, and he thinks for a moment he sees heaven. “Show me,” you pant and dig your nails into his back, earning a surprisingly loud moan from him. “Show me how crazy I make you, König”

His hips falter for only a moment, a concerned look flashing across his face. “Are you sure, schatz? I don’t know how much I can hold back”

“I don’t want you to. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to”

And there’s a set determination in your eyes, a challenge, that despite the fact that you’re already covered in a thin blanket of sweat and your thighs and calves are littered with bite marks, you still think he’ll hold back. I want you to fuck me in the way you truly want to. But what if that means hurting you on accident? What if it means leaving more marks than either of you are prepared to take care of? What if it means you’ll never be able to trust him the same way again?

As if sensing his hesitance, you squeeze your thighs again, forcing him to look you in the eye; and when he does, all he can see is love and trust shining in your irises and that, he thinks, no matter what happens, he never wants you look at him any differently. That if he could, he’d take a snapshot of that expression and put it in a locket to hold close to his heart. Precious, so precious. He never wants to lose it, to lose you, to ever stray so far from you that he forgets what it's like to love and be loved in return. So he does the only thing he can think of in that moment: he presses your legs down so your knees are nearly touching your ears, and sets a near back-breaking pace as he thrusts his cock into you

It’s absolutely carnal the way he grabs and pulls at you, how easy it is for him to pin you down exactly where he wants you, how he can bend and twist your body in ways you didn’t even think possible. One hand twists and pinches at your nipples, the other grips the meat of your thigh to keep in you in place, and he's sure this is what heaven must feel like. Pretty sounds fall from your lips and crash against him like a hurricane, and he's never been more thankful to be a human before this moment, basking in everything you provide him with, bottling every little noise fluttering out of you and bottling it away for safe-keeping

“König,” you cry out, shaking hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you for some sense of stability. “König, fuck, f-feels so good, so full”

His eyes roll to the back of his head, hips slapping into the back of your thighs and fingers digging into your flesh more. “Oh gott, liebe, tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel. Tell me how much you need me. Tell me, schatz, tell me you want all of me like I want all of you”

Your fingers are nearly splitting through your skin with how tightly you’re holding onto the last few shreds of sanity, red mist dousing your bodies as evidence of your dedication and passion. He’s so pretty above you, all low growls and moans as he’s losing himself inside of you more and more, begging for just a little more. Tell me how much you love me so I feel okay about how obsessed I am with you. I’ll crack my ribcage open for you, just tell me how pretty red looks on me

“Wan’ all of you, König,” you babble underneath him, voice wobbly with tears and carnality. “Need you so bad! Please, need everything from you! Fuck me pregnant for all I fucking care, as long as it’s yours!”

It’s as though a beast takes over König's body, one he thought he kept locked away from you, far enough to never come close, hidden enough that he often forgets it’s there, claws capped and mouth muzzled as to not be tempted to listen to its growls. He isn’t sure what sends him over, whether it was hearing how desperate you are to cum or to hear you wouldn’t mind him getting you pregnant. In one swift movement, König has you sitting in his lap and is bouncing your limp body on his cock, trembling legs wrapped around his waist and heavy head leaning on his broad shoulder for support. He’s not quite gentle with you, not quite rough, just enough to let you know he’s a man on a mission to have you nice and round with his child

“Look so pretty,” he coos in your ear, the rough sound of skin slapping skin a direct [contradiction] to the tenderness in his tone. “You’d look so pretty with a big belly, yeah? Wearing my shirts and waddling around. Gonna be a good mama, aren’t you? Gonna be the best mutter to our pretty lil’ baby, hm?” His accent grows thicker and thicker the closer and closer he gets to the edge, and you find yourself squeezing down on him even more, without a thought, without a care, so long as you can milk him for every last drop. “Tell me, mama, who do you think the baby will look like more, hm? Do you think it’ll be tall as me? Have your nose? Gott, I hope it has your laugh. Tell me, mama, tell me you can’t wait to be the mutter of my child. Tell me you want to be pregnant and full with my baby. Tell me, mama, tell me, please”

“Wan’ be the mother of your child,” you manage to slur, face nestled in the crook of his neck and breathing in his musky scent as his balls slap against the swell of your ass, legs shaking the more the knot in your guts tighten. “Fuck, König, wan’ you to take care of me while I’m so pregnant I can’t do anything for myself. Wan’ you to fret over me and spoil me so our baby comes out happy and healthy”

And suddenly, König is wrapping his arms around you and squeezing onto you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. A part of you suspects that’s true. Another part, a part you’d rather ignore, hopes it’s true

“Ich komme gleich,” his rough voice pierces your ears. I’m going to cum. “Please, schatz, ich will in dir kommen” I want to cum inside you. “Lass mich in dir kommen, bitte, ich flehe dich an” Let me cum inside of you, please, I'm begging

“Cum, liebste, cum, cum, cum, please! Fuck, I’m gonna cum with you”

Your cries mix with his whines, and, just as abruptly as it all began, you’re both spilling over each other, praises and pleas and moans and whimpers pouring over your bodies and cocooning you in warmth and safety. Though he trembles beneath you, König gently nudges your forehead off of his shoulder so he can place a gentle kiss on your nose, then your cheek, and finally your lips, his cock spurting the last of his cum inside of you

Once he's sure you're both fucked out and blissful, he slides you off of his lap in order to inspect the mess on his thighs. Unsurprising to the both of you, some of his cum has managed to leak out of you, but he scoops it up and carefully slides it back into you, already half-hard at the thought of possibly fucking it back in you instead

“Do you really think I’d make a good mom?” you ask after he’s fetched you some water and a snack to nibble on. “Or was that just your way of going bareback?”

He playfully wrinkles his nose at your remark, and grins when you let out a snort. “I think you’d make the best mutter.” And his voice is so benevolent, full of so much adoration and love, that you can’t help but shyly smile up at him. He’s quick to place a chaste kiss on the crown of your head before getting up to wipe the sweat that gathered on his body, and you quickly swat at his bottom before he has a chance to dodge your hand

“What if I’m not pregnant though?”

The grin he flashes at you is such a perfect mixture of boyish and wolfish that, just for a breath, you forget what his profession is and good at it he is. “Then we’ll have to keep trying, won’t we?”

You have a funny feeling you’re going to be awfully busy for the next few months.

Reblogs/comments are always appreciated! ♡

#one day i'll be able to write smut without mutual obsession themes #today is not that day <3 #könig x reader #könig cod #könig smut #konig #konig imagine #konig modern warfare #konig x reader #konig cod #konig smut #könig modern warfare #♡.mine!#namedaftertheweather

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lunarw0rks · 7 months

Note

farmer!price & sweet little girl next door!reader (yes i’m thinking about this pairing in the most perverted way possible)

a/n: here it is. the long-awaited neighbor!price fic <3 Hopefully, you all enjoy these Price crumbs. anon is onto something ;) & thx for the dog name ideas! ⊹。°˖➴ ao3 ver. // word count: 6.9k

// warning(s); nsfw (18+), implied age gap [r is mid-twenties, price is early/mid-forties], dadbod!price agenda, oral (r.), p/v unsafe sex, fem!reader

Price is living out his recluse dreams. Retired and secluded, finally! It was more than he’d wished for, honestly. He always desired a patch of land far from town, leaving out scraps for the critters, finding the simple pleasures.

But here he was, with a small, self-sufficient farm, growing enough to feed himself. It was a quiet, rewarding lifestyle. Entirely the opposite of his years in the service. Right now, he found himself conquering his lost list of mundane tasks. Watering his herbs, then sorting the junk that accumulated in his storage shed.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

After a grueling afternoon of unpacking, you needed to unwind. Right now, you found yourself lounging on your deck, head tilted back as you shielded your eyes from the summer sun. As if moving and assembling furniture wasn't exhausting enough — now you had the sweltering star beating down on you.

Abruptly, you feel something soft brush against your legs. Before you can open your eyes, there's a hefty weight plunged atop your lap. Your eyes snap open, greeted with the hot breath of a smiling golden retriever.

You caress the blonde fur, receiving several licks along your hand. "Zeus! down, boy!" A husky voice shouts, followed by the face to match it. The eager, not-so-small ball of fluff hops off your lap, prancing toward the man walking around the side of your house.

A charcoal gray t-shirt hugging his buff but girthy body. A man who's been in shape for years — arms bulging and tanned from hours of working outside, all whilst his older years have caught up to him a bit on his stomach, which stuck out with just a bit of fat cushion.

"My apologies, he knows better." He rubbed his head and flashed an apologetic look, exposing the faint abs you'd already imagined on him at first glance. Price's eyes wandered you from top to bottom, nearly forgetting to unfurrow his brow.

What a sight for sore eyes, you were.

You peer down at your lap, now stained with dirt in the shape of paws — on your thighs and the shorts you're wearing. "Oh, not a big deal! he gave me quite a scare, but it was a pleasant surprise." You look over at Zeus, his tail thwacking against his owner's leg.

For a few moments, all he did was leer, before he snapped himself out of it. "John," he steps forward as if going to shake hands but retracts hastily.

"—'m all covered in dirt, wouldn't want to get you dirtier than Zeus already has, hm?" He chuckles when he finishes his rhetorical, smearing the dirt onto his denim pants.

You shake your head and chuckle gently, “no room for pleasantries in the countryside, is there?” You case his appearance again, eyes skimming his muscles.

John flashes a polite smile, muttering a reply before hooking a finger around the Golden’s red collar. “Be seeing you.” He effectively leads the sparky dog out of your yard, preventing both any more surprise attacks and more ogling on his part.

Not only was getting a new neighbor a surprise, but her being so damn tempting — an entirely different genre of awe.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Yesterday wasn’t your smoothest first impression. looking rugged and sweaty from unpacking, ending up covered in dirt and in awkward conversation. You wanted a second chance. He was going to be your neighbor after all — and it wasn’t like there were many others. John was the only one within reasonable walking distance, it seemed.

Now, wearing a sundress as opposed to sweat-caked shorts and a tee — you were more confident in your odds of at least being civil with your neighbor. At the very least, a man who would roll up your trash bins before a storm. Perhaps even supply a spare cup of sugar if you were being optimistic.

You trudge down the dirt road, careful not to roll your ankle on the unpredictable mounds of earth. For a few moments, you’re convinced you’ve gone the wrong way. It’s either dense forest, patches of crop, or more road ahead of you.

Lord knows you were exhausted yesterday, maybe the handsome neighbor was just a figment in your fried mind. A foolish thought — but one that worsened the longer you walked.

The tray in your hands; a few oatmeal dog biscuits and some cookies made from the recipe on the chocolate chip bag. It was better than coming empty-handed, wasn’t it? That would just be distasteful judgment.

With eyes glued ahead, you nearly let the handles of the platter slip when you finally spotted the lights in the distance. Golden-tinted and countless, illuminating the updated cabin. In the yard, lay a few scattered chewed ropes and muddy tennis balls. You could safely assume you made it to the suave man’s residence.

You knock on the oak door, seeing the hues of a television flickering through some of the bent blinds. After a few seconds of mumbling, the door swung open.

Price answered with a beer in one of his fists, instantly straightening his posture when he laid eyes on you. The sundress; cherry red with splotches of tiny florals. Dusk sunbeams highlighted your bone structure seamlessly — casting an ethereal glow on your captivating flesh.

Today, instead of gray, his shirt is army green and just as snug of a fit. You can't help but prolong your stare when he leans against the doorway, his bicep bulging even when he stands with nonchalance. He's even more of a knockout when not covered in dirt; though you suppose the same could be applied to you.

"This is a surprise." He glances at the tray in your hands, then at the polite smile on your face as you flash it in his direction.

With a beam, you extend the platter out and wait for him to take it. "I wasn't sure when to come. I hope I'm not intruding." You speak softly, catching a glimpse of his tidy living space.

“No such thing as intrusion around here, eh? ‘m practically searching for chores these days. A little conversation won’t bother me any.” Price chuckles a bit, flicking his head as an invitation for you to join him.

You step inside behind him, engulfed by the scent of tobacco and cedarwood. The cabin's interior walls have been stained with a warm tint, stretching throughout what bits of the space you can spot. Immediately through the front door is his kitchen, likely the most modernized of the rooms.

Distressed, truffle-colored counters in an L shape; altogether enough space for a man living alone. Yet, the countertops are anything but cluttered — nearly spotless, in fact. He slides the tray across the counter, finally unveiling the homemade treats for both human and man's best friend.

"Figured chocolate chip would be simple enough, right?" You speak up, watching him examine one of them. For a few moments, he's lost in thought again, not taking a bite.

You furrow your brows, "please don't tell me I baked the one dessert you don't like."

Instantaneously, a grin smears on his face, then a rumbly snicker. "Nothing like that," he bites the cookie in half and savors its sweetness, "—just not used to having neighbors this deep in the woods, you're my first. And she can bake too, huh? Aren't I lucky?" He teases a bit at the end, rinsing off some chocolate residue from his scarred fingertips.

Well, it was only the recipe on the back of a bag, so you surely hope it would taste decent. You decide it best to leave that out, merely twirling your thumbs as he shuffles around the space.

Finally, he walks back around the counter and holds out the same beer he sipped when he answered the door. Your reluctant fist wrapped around the brown bottle's glass neck, following him as he led you to the porch.

“Weren’t you watching something?” You question, sitting yourself beside him on the cement steps. Zeus’ collar jingle sounded once the back door closed, the sound a signal for him to join his owner out back.

John shook his head, taking another sip of the brew as his achy muscles relaxed again. “You’re doing me a favor; I could cut back on my screen time.” He reached out his free hand and gently patted the dog’s head, giving his fur a few strokes.

“Cut back? By the looks of your land, you’re outside all day.” You retort with a playful scoff, feeling the nuzzle of a wet nose along your leg. Without shame, you glance at his hands, observing their size and condition. “The callouses don’t lie.”

You piqued his interest at the mention of his hands, and he'd noticed just how long you were staring at them. "Suppose you're right, love." On purpose, he caressed the neck of the bottle with his thumb. He takes another hefty sip, which prompts you to take your first.

You didn't have the heart to tell him before how much you disliked the taste. The tangy beer coated your mouth and throat, seemingly sliding down at an agonizing pace just to prolong the torment. Still, the scrunch of your face spilled enough of the fib.

"Faces don't lie, either." Price mocked, taking the barely touched bottle from your grip. His words held double meaning — one harmless and one sinful — though that truth was unbeknownst to both of you.

In a matter of seconds, you'd been caught in a petty lie. You wipe away the bit that dripped between your lips. "Guess you caught me," you chortle, "I don't like beer much."

"Much? Don't be so modest." He screws the top back on and sets it on the wooden deck beside him. "You hate it, don't you?"

The way he spoke had you in some sort of trance. Perhaps it was his age, perhaps it was his obvious past of influence. It was... like being interrogated. Not in the pathetic way an inexperienced civilian would mock his way through, either. The agitation of being put on the spot — feeling as though you'd done something illegal the second you approach airport security.

That is what this felt like; only the words came tender and sportive.

“Alright, I hate it.” You affirm, unable to wipe the simper off your face. “We’ve officially made it through our first lie. That’s a milestone, right? Saves us the sting later.” Unintentionally, you haven’t broken your stare — even when he did to gaze at the sunset in front of him.

Later? Would this company become a routine? How wrong was it for him to hope it would?

Eventually, he nods and turns to face you again, shamelessly taking you in like it was the first time. “Ah, you’re like me. Ten steps ahead, got everything planned out already.” He questions, squinting slightly from the bright dusk, which was actively being snuffed by storm clouds. "Besides, I could tell your lie from miles away. The way you fumbled that bottle."

You waved a flustered hand of dismissal. "Yeah, yeah. Point taken. I'll remember that next time."

John cocked a brow, "next time, eh? With no more fibbing?" He asked you jovially, once again putting you under his spotlight.

But this time you knew how to handle it. Besides, you had learned his ways of meaningless banter — despite only spending several minutes with the man. "Next time I'll make sure it's not so obvious, and you'll be none the wiser."

"It was more than how I held the bottle," you added accusingly. "You don't just afford a place like this with retirement savings. Not without sacrifices."

He was more than someone who once had a mundane, meaningless job. You could tell it from 'miles away' he was a man who had stories to tell. More than his scarred body already did, that was. A fierce career, a position of power — something cutthroat, literally.

Of course, you had no intention of prying. Screwing this relationship up prematurely would be a grave mistake.

Fortunately, he remained untouched by your suspicions; they intrigued him. And John, he knew you weren't wrong about him, either. He was one of the few souls who could confidently declare he'd seen it all — or the closest thing to it.

"Sacrifices... is a way to put it," his lips curled into a polite smile. Finally, he stopped staring holes into you and caught a whiff of musky petrichor in the air. "C'mon, we're due for rain. Get you inside before the mosquitos feast on us."

The same lips pursed, letting out a sharp whistle to recall Zeus. He transformed from a blond dot in the distance into a prancing canine at the speed of light, slowing to a prance when he laid eyes on his owner.

With one hand, he held both bottlenecks between his thick fingers, then opened the back door with the other. Zeus nudged your legs and walked through them, determined to get inside first. The sight made you snicker as you walked inside, hearing the soft creak of the door behind you.

His work boots thudded against the wooden floor as he took them off, setting them neatly beside the door. Yet another unusual trait for men his age living alone, at least in your experience. No clutter in sight, and no grime residue from his tireless yard work.

Now, his steps are a glide instead of thuds when he walks around the breakfast bar. You turned to face him, watching as he ignited a burner for the kettle. "Do you fancy drinking something you'll actually enjoy? Tea?"

You lean against the island, unintentionally allowing a bit of the dress neckline to droop.

“Tea will work.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

In front of you were the only signs of his old self. Metals and ribbons encased behind a glass frame, hung up in the hall as a quaint display of his achievements. Below them, on the hall table, decorative mason jars; most with faux leaves and vines. You made your way up and down, admiring how the rustic, shipshape decor was placed with such intention.

As your gaze panned left to right, you made it to the end of the display. Interest arose when you examined the last jar; a small mason with a bullet inside, littered with indents and some bits chipped away. Your mind swirled with scenarios as you put together the story told in front of you. A career so intense, so all-important; it was difficult to imagine the man in the kitchen enmeshed in one.

In the distance, the kettle whistles, effectively ripping you from your peering. Before he can shout for you, you’ve walked around the corner, ready to claim a drink your mouth will savor.

“Here you are.” Across the marble countertop, Price slid forward the mug.

A green tea of sorts, with a bit of cream on top and a dust of cinnamon. The presentation is nowhere near seamless, with its lopsided spoonful of foam and granules that ended up sprinkled unevenly through his fingers. Still, there was nothing wrong with a drink that looked homemade.

“Matcha?” You ask, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the mug, then using your supporting hand to hold the small plate it’s resting on.

Price glances at the tea box through the frosted glass cabinets then nods. When he presses his own mug to his lips, the tea is ebony and swirling like a cyclone from the sugar he mixed in.

From the corner of your eye, you skim past him and gaze out the window overlooking the deep copper sink. Through its rectangular pane, you see the string of herbs and leaves grown — well-tended and used often in his cooking, surely.

You point a free finger towards the fresh greens outside, “do you grow it?”

He lets out a rumbly chuckle and shakes his head, “if I could. Matcha plants are loads of work.” You now spot the pasty green box poking through the cabinet, which you hadn’t noticed when too occupied with the herb planters.

You mutter a ‘hm’ in response and raise the porcelain rim to your lips, feeling the steam scald the tip of your nose and Cupid's bow. The vegetal fragrance of the green tea soothes your senses — just before the spice of cinnamon gives them a right hook.

To keep your eyes from tearing, you close them and take your first sip. It’s thicker than you anticipated, coating your mouth and throat as you swallow, yet the taste is pleasant and earthy.

Whatever John had done to prepare it, he did it correctly. That much you could tell.

Before your throat can sizzle with aftertaste, the cold foam dollop calms it. From grassy, fresh matcha to a striking sweet cream.

“You have a bit…” Price motions to his mouth, an index pointed toward the left corner of his mouth. The cream is too airy for you to notice any accidental residue. You’ve missed the swear twice before he sighs and raises a crumpled napkin to your lips.

You meet gazes while he dabs at your bottom lip, feeling any confidence seep from you in an instant.

The sweet aroma fleeted instantly with the proximity, now with your nostrils flooded with his fragrance. Smokey and masculine; something rum-adjacent, mixed sinfully with cedarwood and the earthy smell of crisp soil. And then, lastly, there are the pungent remnants of his minty mouthwash, which is slightly diluted by the black tea he swallowed.

This close, you can trace every wrinkle and line with your eyes. While you’re engulfed in his presence, he’s observing. Smothered and suffocating with the weight of diminishing continence. The vermillion sundress, the tray of goodies in the corner of his vision, the twitch of your lips as he dabs and drags with the linen.

Price has yet to notice his other hand, grabbing the tip of your chin with a feather-like hold.

But you have, blinking rapidly a few times while the chalky foam is rid of your mouth, which might as well have been thrown in the trash along with the napkin — because you’ve turned reticent.

“There.” He whispers, mouth curling into a polite glow.

Ultimately, your haze falters. Your senses unfreeze when you’re no longer swarmed by his aroma, or his tender touch when he walks back around the breakfast bar. Warmth coaxes your fingers, still emanating from the tea snug in your grip — even after the milky olive-tinted liquid has gone tepid.

With a perpetually widened gaze, you raised your mug to finish off the rest of your tea. This neighborly visit had played out differently than you expected. You savored about half of the lukewarm brew, letting it mellow the pining that arose when he got close. Sweaty fingers fumbled around the handle when you tipped the cup again, sending a gush of tea down the front of your outfit. The fabric stained instantaneously as the warmth soaked in, whilst the sugary cream made the dress cling in an unsavory, sticky fashion.

You cursed audibly and darted your gaze towards him apologetically, setting the mug down with a clammer. “I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling an ocean’s wave of dishonor pummel through you at once.

John, who was mid-cleanup, jerked his head to the side when he heard the commotion. When greeted with the frazzled expression, he made an effort to soothe it. It wasn’t your fault; it was only some overpriced, boxed infusion that had collected dust in the back of his cabinet.

Besides, you were in front of him, now in soaked clothing and apologizing profusely.

“Don’t apologize. Happens to the best of us.” That damn smile again. The wrinkles around his eyes, the almost all-knowing look of understanding in them.

He fisted your discarded mug, turning on the sink.

“The washroom is down the hall, in my room. It has a better mirror than the half.” Price wavers through his instructions, overcome with his own helping of uncertainty. Nothing had gone explicitly wrong, per se, but it didn’t mean they went right. But they never do, do they? There’s a reason he decided on a life of recluse, even more, a reason for him to befriend seclusion so closely.

Your footsteps retreated down the hall, passing the picture frames and decor you had been admiring moments ago. John scrubbed both mugs until they were full of suds and then rinsed, placing them on the dish rack afterward. He made it a habit to never leave used dishes to sit in the sink.

Quickly, he walked through the open door of his bedroom. Golden beams peeked out from the gap under the door, where you were frantically blotting the stains. He pulled the string on his bedside lamp, illuminating a majority of the moody, rustic bedroom. His fingers hooked around the handle, gently sliding open the pocket doors of his closet.

His t-shirts hung neatly on the left wall, whilst his fewer button-ups remained on the opposite. With a quick hum, he took hold of his baggiest navy blue tee, draping it over his forearm. From inside his dresser, he grabbed a pair of sweats that were tight on him — enough to prevent them from slipping down your legs.

Inside the bathroom, you alternated between being hunched over the counter in embarrassment, to rubbing your dress profusely. The damp washcloth was doing little to the fabric, which was a few shades darker from the liquid, compressing tighter against you. It wasn’t a flattering look, nor was it a comfortable fit anymore. Akin to the feeling of maple syrup residue on your hands after breakfast, only it was covering the front of your body.

Would it have been better to spill on his authentic wood floors? Was it completely selfish to prefer it, to spare the discomfort of a soaked garment?

Two subdued knocks on the door halted your useless wiping. “I have some clothes.” The gruff voice spoke through the door, yet remained as placid as it was in the kitchen.

“Oh, no need,” you replied dismissively through the door. “I can change at home.” You tossed the wet towel into the small hamper. When you opened the door, Price remained standing there, fresh clothing in hand.

The thought was there, and now were the actions to go along. You didn’t want to change at home or be walking down that dirt avenue at all. At this hour, home would be lonesome and still, regardless of whether your new neighbor was fanciable or not.

But he was; that made him all the harder to decline.

Void of any attempt on John’s part, his gaze scanned the mess that covered you. This time, more obvious than he would’ve liked. It felt wrong; downright distasteful and discouraging, to do so.

Howbeit, he did — and you sensed it this time. The unavoidable gawking at your snug gown, devouring his dwindling abstinence. No unease, imminence, or desire to dismiss yourself ever came. Not like it did with men on the street, who resembled that of depraved, hungry hounds.

John wasn’t corrupted; behind the lust, there was something more, something too complex to daydream.

“Nonsense.” He persisted, the clothes remaining outstretched. “It’s raining. And you’ve got to walk quite a way, don’t you?”

You leaned your head against the thick wood of the door, unable to spit out another worthy excuse. “Thank you. Really.” With a nod, you took the folded clothing, setting the pieces on the countertop beside you. As he accepted your answer and turned on his heels, you mustered the gut to speak again.

“And, John?” You stepped through the threshold of the door, “if I go home in these clothes, you probably won’t get them back.”

“I’ll keep the dish, then.” This time, he didn’t back away after stepping closer. “Do we have a deal?” His breathing picked up subtly but was noticeable against your face. When faced with his proximity before, you fumbled a mug. But now, you were certain of every ache and desire troubling you.

Whoever leaned in first became a fleeting afterthought. It didn’t matter, not while your mouths and noses clashed together. He was the first to give way, to tilt his head to relieve the pressure on your nose, which allowed him more mobility.

Your knees nearly buckled when his hands cupped your cheeks — how the calloused prints of his fingers felt against the opposing texture of your face. It felt natural; a relief to every urge you’ve stifled from the moment he answered his door.

Before you broke away for air, he removed his lips while still maintaining his tender hold on your face.

“Are you sure about this…?” Price posed, pressing his forehead against yours. You exchanged each other's exhales, cloaking your racing thoughts with a suffocating, dizzy effect.

Still, regardless of your thundering heartbeat and draining lungs — you uttered the quickest yes of your lifetime. This time, you turned your head when lips and teeth clashed, back colliding with the door. Your lips parted as you panted, letting his tongue swipe along your lips, leaving them saturated. His beard audibly scraped against your jaw and down your neck, producing goosebumps as you shivered.

Though his movements weren’t theatrical or jaw-dropping, they left you unable to lose focus. His hands wrapped around the sleeves of the ruined gown, rolling the fabric down while he dropped into a kneel before you.

A need to provide, to satisfy, to satiate. No teases, no dramatics; just utter experience. The only terms you would associate with him currently.

The clingy fabric peeled off like a sticky bandage, peeling to expose the damn stain from cleavage to your pelvis. John’s briefly raised to suckle between your breasts, cleaning off every drop of the tea that had soaked through the discarded dress. Down; sternum to belly button, savoring the small remnants of the sweet cream.

“So beautiful,” he muttered, lips pressed to your lower stomach. His hands moved and kneaded your hips in worship. Despite his face hovering in front of your panties, and how he was actively trailing kisses along your thighs — his voice never changed. Not cloaked with blind lust or hesitation.

Admiration, purely; for you, maybe only your body. But you didn’t care about that — or couldn’t — right now. John was utterly too much, From light conversation to huddling in the restroom, then to being backed against the door. One hand rested on your lower stomach, as a means of keeping your back against the door. The other rolled your undergarments down at a sluggish pace, beard and lips following the falling undies.

Your neck craned down, seeing them fall to your ankles, shortly before the cold breeze hit your exposed core — emanating from the bathroom window left slightly ajar. The muscles in your thighs tense when Price’s tongue finally makes brief contact with it, blown pupils still staring up at you.

His tongue lay flat against your clit for a few moments until saliva rolled down his tongue, allowing him to delve deeper. Further on, he would kiss and suckle on the bundle of nerves, and you were sure your grip on the knob couldn’t have been firmer. Experience truly was the right word to describe him, earlier and now more than ever.

Along your slit, he plunged inside, growly breaths vibrating against your sensitivity. Your taste coated his mouth, and your natural scent drove him mad; like no other partner he’d had before.

“Wanna feel you—” Price slurped again, then pulled away to finish, “—clench around my fingers. You want that, sweetheart?” His tongue glistened under the spotty lighting, his buff chest still heavy. He was goddamn distracting in this state, more than he was before.

After a flash of muteness, you nodded your head. As if you could pass up that offer; if it was an offer at all.

True to his word and the desires racing through his head, John slipped his middle finger inside your entrance. Instantly, the appendage glided against the soaked, puffy walls of your cunt, causing him to chuckle with satisfaction.

Even the smallest pump forced a whine from your lips, though you were unsure what you should be pleading for. Tonight, this feeling was already unsurpassed.

“Another, huh? Can’t fuckin’ say no to you, can I?” Next entered his ring finger, the thick digits stretching you out delectably, in ways you could only dream of executing with your own two fingers.

His name slipped out when he curled them against your sweet spot, daring your knees to buckle and send both of you tumbling. His eerily observant nature had him anticipating the sudden weakness, and his other hand holding you in place never once faltered. Finding his shaggy hair, your fingers intertwined with the locks, purely to be holding onto anything of his when you inevitably come undone.

Back to slobbering, his tongue ran laps against your swollen clit, the tip of his nose knocking against it with every pass. Each flick, each thrust making your back arch wildly against the door. And once again, as he anticipated, you ended up clenching around his fingers like he wanted.

So tense, it was any wonder Price was able to keep moving his fingers. His erection pressed against his thigh, the tight denim making him resist the urge to squirm. Oh, how you sounded, how you felt. His years of stamina and strength training will surely be tested once it’s his cock filling you up instead.

The nub throbbed and visibly pulsed when he combined a well-timed lick and curl all at once, plunging you off that cliff of release. Around his head, your thighs clamped tighter than the fingers digging into his scalp. It was clear you’d be reeling this feeling for days to come, probably a climax to forever be unbeaten during your life.

Your heart hammered against your rib cage, your lungs exhausted and working overtime as you sucked in desperate breaths. “Fuck— that was…” You breathed, unable to articulate any one of the feelings assaulting your system.

The leer tugging at the corners of his soaked mouth wasn’t smug, it was pleased; pleasantly. Slowly, he raised himself, holding each side of your face. Price slurred, “You sound lovely when you cum, y’know that?” Before you could lift a finger to answer again, his dangerous tongue swirled around yours, spreading the taste of yourself against your taste buds.

Your sticky inner thighs glided when he blindly led you out of the threshold, collapsing atop you. The frame creaked under the weight of both of you, the mattress now with a crater in the center of it.

“Want you to fuck me, John. Please.” You pleaded between kisses, unconsciously wrapping a leg around his waist for any friction on the mess he caused. The sensitive tip of his cock ached, despite only being rocked against through the thick denim.

As if your sounds of pleasure weren’t divine enough, that fucking word was. Please. So desperate, so distraught. If he had the restraint or the patience, Price might coax a few more begs out of you — but those were the two things he didn’t have currently.

Briefly, his touches ceased when he leaned back. Swiftly unbuckling his belt, he slid out of his jeans and tossed them aside; discarded, now the only clutter in the bedroom. Soaked through his grey briefs, a stain of pre-cum, merely proving how badly he needed you. The same as his jeans, he rid himself of them, erection upright and freed.

Girthy and curved upward a hair, capable of reaching deeper than his fingers. Down his happy trail, which you got a peak of during the first encounter, were his trimmed pubes. The same shade of brown as the hair littering his chest. You examined further, spotting a few prominent veins bound to drive you mad.

Any longer without it, and you were willing to start pawing at him. The stars must’ve been aligned, because pleading wasn’t necessary anymore.

“Spread your legs f’me.” You did, as swiftly as he uttered the command. As wide as comfortable, you exposed the mess of your pussy to him, reflecting off the cool moonlight peaking through his blinds. Glistening and twitching from the first climax, remnants still left around your inner thighs. “Gonna fill you up, fuck you proper, hm? Have you clenching around me?”

As if his fingers weren’t euphoric enough. Gnawing on your bottom lip until it ached, you nodded your head eagerly, hooking an arm around your leg to keep the shaky limb steady.

Price gripped the base of his cock, guiding it toward your entrance. The tip slipped in as smooth as honey, coated in slick and strings of his saliva leftover. With a drenched glide, the rest of him dipped inside, until his pelvis was against yours.

Entirely crammed inside, your head lolled back against the comforter, reeling in the painless stretch of his girth. And how, before the movements began, the natural curve of his cock had him snug against your cervix, kissing all the right places within you. Your fingers trailed downward, beginning to rub circles around your responsive clit, the wet clicks combining with the squelch of his thrusts.

Whatever noises came from you were all-natural and uncontrollable, from a sensual place within you never trespassed. John grunted with every tighten around his length, pumping deeply and with more force. His thoughts earlier rang true, how little restraint you left him with. Already, he could’ve finished inside of you — just from the view of your body alone.

Breasts bouncing, hips jiggling, the sounds of your soaked core, the expression on your face as he got rougher. “Such a good girl, takin’ every inch of me,” his words came out grunts, matching the pace of his jabs.

“You’ll cum for me again, and let me hear those bloody sounds, won’t you? Fuckin’ touching yourself, all needy.” For him, the words acted as a distraction until you came undone for a second time. For you, it enhances your stimulation tenfold — his voice was like nectar, yet it rumbled through the room like thunder.

It mixed with the real thunder outside, which you caught bits of between everything. The rain he said the area was due for, faintly coming down in the distance, and surely headed this way by the time your legs shook.

With a soft nudge, he shimmied closer between your thighs, chest inches from yours, and allowed him to slam against your cervix. Your fingers had gone erratic, desperately teasing the bundle of nerves the closer you got to release.

And John, sure of this, allowed himself to focus on a fraction of his pleasure. You twitched around his length, swallowing every last inch of him. Arousal dribbled from you to the bed, soaking into the navy blue duvet.

When the coil of pleasure began bursting at the seams, his name slipped out again, in between your gasps for oxygen. How his thrusts had turned as sloppy as your fingers, every jerk of his pelvis knocking the wind out of you. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist, feet hooking under his backside to keep him locked in — as if the thought of stopping had ever crossed his mind.

Thighs quivering like your fingers were, you dug your fingernails into his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in his flesh. Yet another string of moans poured out of you, which tipped John over the edge same edge you’d tumbled off twice. His balls contracted while they drained, strings of pearly cum painting you on the inside.

Warmth filled you, from your tummy to your core, his length swimming in his own sloppy release. Your constricted ab muscles slowly eased up as the aftermath of orgasm faded, leaving you breathless and spent. His agape mouth dipped down as he withdrew his softening cock from you slowly, careful to not leave you any more sensitive than you already were.

The kiss distracted you and served as a reminder of what this hookup meant. Not regretful, not meaningless. Something lingered in the air, beyond the smell of sweat and sex.

Though his body begged to collapse atop you and fall fast asleep, you deserved to be taken care of. Price planted a parting kiss on your jaw, making the short trip to the bathroom to grab one of his fresh washcloths.

Silently, you observed his tenderness take over — even though it never left him. With a few featherlike swipes, he wiped away the messy aftermath of arousal, saliva, and cum, disposing of the used towel somewhere in the darkness.

You fought to stay awake, feeling his weight sink beside you once more after some squirming around. Eventually, John successfully got you and himself under the thick comforter, weighted and radiating as much warmth as your bodies. An arm snaked under your head, your back against his chest. The other arm around your waist, keeping you right up against his soft body.

He waited until he saw the rise and fall of your frame, the faint breaths of deep sleep before he decided that was permission enough to do the same.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Insects chirped loudly, enough to stir you awake.

Fresh morning light peaked through the blinds, which had been opened. Through your twitching lids, the intensity made your face scrunch. One hand reached up and rubbed them, while the other palmed beside you.

No sign of your neighbor, if he can have that title after last night.

His side had gone cold, and anything that was askew had been picked up or set back in place. Sitting yourself up, you groaned from hunger and the soreness in your legs. Beside the dresser, were the sweatpants and t-shirt he was going to lend you yesterday. Still neatly folded, placed with care on one of his leather armchairs.

You peeled the comforter off your sticky skin, coated with a layer of sweat from the sunlight on you. Usually overheating would’ve had you lying awake and sizzling, but it was clear that Price had thoroughly tired you out.

In addition to the shirt and pants, he provided a clean pair of boxers — since the ones you came over wearing had been long soiled. And nowhere to be found in the bathroom, where you made your best effort to fix up your appearance.

Aside from the sounds of nature, there was the hum of an appliance when you opened the bedroom door. Down the hall, you passed the dryer; the root of the tumbling sound. Through the small window, was your cherry sundress and underwear, half dry and spinning in circles.

Your bare feet adjusted to the cold wood, taking small, sleepy strides down the hall.

Into the living room, you laid eyes on the shelves around his television. Since you spent most of the visit on the porch, in the kitchen, and obviously the bedroom, you hadn’t had time to inspect this area closely.

Custom-built shelves frame the television. Rustic, meticulous decor placed on them. Some were store-bought, others looked to be souvenirs and memories. Stepping closer, you spotted a few framed photos; four soldiers, with Sharpie written on the corner: 1-4-1.

On the bright side, there is one mystery solved about his past. Military, or SAS, which you spot on their patches. Shuffling along, your gaze sets on the next section. More medals and ribbons, each most likely with their own significance.

Most notably, a plaque displaying his full name and title: Capt. Jonathan Price.

Another mystery solved. Why he had been so observant, so skilled at asking his questions. It all began to make sense, especially the closer you examined the relics. With a slight hm, you decided it best to stop snooping on the man’s possessions and continue your search for him.

No sign of Zeus in the house either, which isn’t shocking since he’s practically sewn to John’s hip.

Through the kitchen you go, finally picking up on the faint voice outside. Through the window overlooking the copper sink, you see Price tending to the herbs you pointed out the previous day, seemingly making conversation with his canine.

You continue on, opening the creaky patio door and shutting it behind you. You walk along the stained wood deck, rounding the corner. He’s in the middle of kneeling down, meticulously planting another herb or seasoning for his mini-garden.

“Looking good, Captain.” You startle him slightly, leaning a shoulder against the paneling of the cabin.

Price’s head perks up, snapping to the side at the sudden sound. And Zeus predictably treks over for your undivided attention, and you’re unable to refuse. The golden walks beside you when you approach further, and John gets to his feet with a small grunt.

“Snooping again, are we?” His lips curl into a harmless smile, dirt-covered fingers playing with the backs of your hands.

You shrug your shoulders, unable to conceal the feelings of fluster. Being put on the spot was something you’d have to get used to, that’s for sure. “Maybe I was. Just a little bit.”

“Careful now, sweetheart.” His voice molds into that of a superior, which you hadn’t heard from him yet. Was it twisted how much it excites you? Price continued, “or I might have you calling me Captain from here on.”

With a light scoff, you muster the last bits of confidence left in you.

“Is that a promise?”

♡‧₊˚✧˖° divider cred. - cafekitsune

#mw2 #call of duty #task force 141 #price mw2 #captain john price #john price #captain price #price #john price headcanons #price headcanons #captain price headcanons #john price x you #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #price x you #captain price x you #john price x y/n

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cosmictheo · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

(gif credits to @jdmorganz)

— summary: during a stormy night at bill and frank's house, joel teaches you how to hold your gun, and this opens up the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally release all the feelings of longing and lust you've been repressed for each other over the past few weeks. —pairing: joel miller x female!reader —word count: 3.8k —warnings: just the reader and joel being horny and a complete slut for each other, some implied sexual scenes, age gap (reader is in her 20s), horny teaching on how to wield a gun, bill being the grumpy dad, frank being the nice dad<3

joel's playlist i made for inspo

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

He came walking into your life as if he already owned it. With that dark flannel, tight jeans around his thick thighs and a face as grumpy as Bill's, and that was saying too much. He looked like a fucking Greek god with his tanned face fucking glowing in the sunlight. It was his fifth visit in your shared house with Bill and Frank, and you wanted him just as much as the first time.

Frank had noticed how you had watched him the first time you had welcomed him into your home, eyes lingering long seconds to analyze his strong jaw, brown eyes, he was sure you would be taking him to your room at any moment, if the man would let you, something that was obviously effective, as he looked at you with the same goofy expression on his face, eyes glowing curious with desire. He shared a knowing look with his partner sitting next to him as they both analyzed the way you were taking longer than expected to pour more wine into Joel's already empty glass, his eyes watching you intently.

“Thank you, darlin'.” The pet name rolling throguh his tongue, in that tone of voice so low and husky that made you crack a smile, caramel eyes tracing a discreet path across the wide cleavage of your summer dress, trailing up your collarbones and neck, until they met yours, already set upon him, of course.

That interaction had been in your wettest dreams. You rarely dreamed, but Joel of course had to be the one to change that habit of yours.

And you could have sworn the reaction hadn't been much different for Joel's side, for you doubted he was dumb enough not to fall for the little games you'd been playing the last few weeks. No. He was a smart man. And he knew exactly what he was doing when he looked at you with that dark, longing gaze and brushed his fingers against yours 'accidentally'.

You were helpless, spinning around him― and he was ruthless, giving you just the right reasons to feel that way.

You pushed any over-lustful and delusional thoughts from your mind, taking a long sip of your wine, savoring the delicious bittersweet taste on your tongue and with it, trying to refocus again on the conversation taking place at the table.

Dinner had been indoors this time, as dark, angry clouds carpeted the usually bluish sky, their presence threatening to unleash a great storm at any moment now. And because of this, Frank was beginning to notice himself getting more worried by the hour.

“You really should stay in tonight, at least until the storm passes.” He proposed, setting his fork down beside his empty plate, friendly and sweet look traveling to the two guests you had at home.

Bill, sitting next to him, grunted, totally objecting against his partner's proposition, of course. “Frank.”

Joel finished drinking his own wine and then shared a glance with Tess sitting next to him, conversing telepathically, you guessed. Sometimes you were genuinely curious about the kind of relationship the two of them had, though you weren't sure if it could even be considered as such, since they only treated each other as friends, very close friends. Maybe they fucked on occasionally. Only they knew that, but the mere thought made your stomach twist.

Tess shook her head, offering you all one of her swift smiles. “We wouldn't want to intrude—”

You were quick to interrupt her, eyes wandering from Joel to her, fingers fiddling with the wine glass between them. Your face lit up as you offered her a reassuring smile.

“Bullshit. We won't sleep today knowing you guys are out there with that storm raging overhead.” Frank nodded, agreeing with you, giving a discreet nudge to Bill's side, who had just grumbled when he heard you were on Frank's side, obviously. “'Mid the rain it's hard to hear much more than your own footsteps.”

“She's right.” Joel muttered, looking at you for a few long seconds before turning to his companion, long, dark lashes smoothing his cheekbones as he blinked.

You drank the last sip of wine contained in the wine glass in your hand as you watched him intently, trying to decipher what was going through his head, analyzing the expression on his handsome face.

“Plus, it's going to get dark soon and that doesn't make the situation any better.” Frank added, trying to persuade them, always proving to have that huge heart he had. His eyebrows raised slightly as he noticed the defeated expression on Bill, him knowing too that he was right, as much as they didn't like the guests, they were Frank's friends, or the closest thing to it.

“Alright.” Tess finally replied, smiling sheepishly. “Thanks, guys.”

“No problem, honey.” Frank shook his hand gently, giving no further interest to the subject. And then he stood up, smiling sweetly at both guests. “I'll show you the guest rooms. You can choose the one you like the most, we have plenty of space.”

Tess followed him down the hall, thanking him again for allowing them to stay, making Frank laugh.

Bill stood up as well, grabbing his plate and Joel was quick to copy his action, but he dismissed him. “Leave it to me. (Y/N) will show you the way to your room.”

He gave you a knowing, warning look before turning his back on you and heading for the kitchen, you rolled your eyes at that.

Joel nodded his head softly, standing awkwardly as he watched Bill make his way towards the kitchen with a couple of dirty dishes in his hands. No more seconds had to pass before his eyes returned to you, still sitting in your seat, and already looking up at him. His gaze softened against yours and you felt the honey color of his orbs draw you to them like a never-ending pool, a caramel sea.

“I suppose you'll want to take a bath first, right?” You questioned looking up at him, batting your eyelashes, you noticed how the curve of his lips curved into a small smile, noticing your pretty big eyes focusing only on him. “I don't even want to think about since when you haven't washed your old ass.”

Joel let out a chuckle now, chest expanding against the fabric of his flannel and eyes softening so beautifully that you had the sudden urge to kiss every single mark on his skin. “Honestly, I don't want to think about that either.”

You offered him a sweet smile. “I can lend you some clothes if you want.”

“That would be great.” He nodded his head, returning the smile this time, a real smile. “Thank you, darlin'.”

And there was the pet name again. Goddamn.

His hands were hiding in the pockets of his jeans, a hint that let you knew that he was either nervous or uncomfortable, you weren't quite sure what it was, but your presence definitely caused a reaction in him.

“Follow me, cowboy.” You motioned with your head as you passed him, heading towards the stairs.

He heeded you instantly, steps hurrying to keep up with you, eyes scanning your body from behind, pausing for a few moments at the way your tight pants molded to the curve of your hips and ass, moving up your waist. He had never been jealous of an article of clothing until that moment.

He even imagined his hands running over your body, molding your waist the way your pants did throughout the shower he took, once you handed him a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt you wore to bed from time to time. The thoughts and fantasies of all the positions he wanted you in his mind made his shower go fast, too fast. He couldn't get you out of his head, Joel felt like he would go crazy at any moment.

And when he finally turned off the hot water and dried off, and got dressed in the clothes you had lent him, he had to close his eyes for a few moments, letting himself fall into the exquisite sweet scent that they were impregnated with. Your scent.

And the fact that he would be sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall had his head spinning.

Before passing in front of your room, he took a sigh, shaking his head lightly, in an attempt to push all the filthy thoughts away. He felt like a fucking pervert.

A smile rose to his lips as he peeked through the open door of your room, leaning against the threshold.

“Ain't that a pretty sight.” He grumbled in an amused tone, his forearm rising against the wood, eyes analyzing you as you fiddled with your small pistol, baggy polo shirt brushing a little lower than your bare thighs, loose hair falling down your shoulders.

A feeling of shame rose in his chest, feeling that he had intruded too much, for this was your territory, your personal space and he had simply barged in against the boundaries, a girl who was at least 20 years younger than him, but, it was also true that really, at that point, he wasn't thinking straight, he didn't see clearly anymore, he only saw you, the prettiest girl he had seen in decades, maybe in his whole life.

Your eyes fell on him on your door, allowing you a couple of seconds to admire how good he looked in the gray sweatpants, of course you had passed them to him on purpose and dear God, what a good view. His dark hair was still damp and a couple of gray locks were falling down his forehead, and due to the width of the shirt, you could see a tantalizing glimpse of his chest.

“My pajamas look better on you than on me, damn. That Strokes shirt? It totally fits you.” You commented in a joking tone, now taking the gun in your right hand and lowering it.

Joel rolled his eyes at your playful voice, already used to your jokes, which were usually directed at him in the last few weeks, having left your former spotlight on Bill behind, fortunately for him.

“Have you ever shot that thing in your life, kid?” A single eyebrow rose on his brow, him taking on that playful tone now, full of pure shared complicity, just the two of you.

“Not really.” You replied simply, eyeing the gun in your hand still and maintaining an innocent voice.

Joel hesitated for a few moments, but asked the question anyway. “Then how come you were out there all those months by yourself?”

His gaze was filled with curiosity and confusion, crossing his arms now. You thought he had done it completely on purpose and also that he had caught you ogling his flexing biceps, but he remained silent, waiting for your answer.

You just smiled. “I have my ways.”

And he knew what that meant, for any fool would give his life protecting you and defending you from any goddamned thing that threatened your well being if you claimed to stay by their side. And fools, there were many, as many as there used to be. He considered himself a fool too, in that case.

“Hm…” he hummed, not wanting to push you any further with questions about the past, "let me see your shooting stance then, smartass."

Curiosity rose on your pretty face at his words, but you heeded his command, grabbing the gun with both of your hands now and positioning your feet and legs as you assumed was a shooting stance, of course purposely misplacing it.

“You plan to shoot somethin' standin' up like that?” Joel questioned, analyzing you disapprovingly, but, his brown eyes sparkled with amusement. “Bill would really dislike to see you right now.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Bill dislikes looking at me at any time.”

“What are you talkin' about? The man adores you.” And who wouldn't? He wanted to have added. Joel sighed. “Stay right there.” Uncrossing his arms and making his way over to you, he finally entered your room, once and for all.

Your breath hitched as he positioned himself behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the beating of his heart in his chest and his warm, minty breath against your neck.

His hands went around your body while with one leg he gently spread yours as far apart as necessary. His fingers brushed against the skin of your arms as they lengthened, hands covering yours completely around the weapon now.

“Left squeezes down on the right, like this.” He guided you as he gave your hands a gentle squeeze under his, positioning them correctly. His breath brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke in a low tone so thick you felt it's vibrations throughout your body, your heart beginning to pound. “Take your finger off the trigger or you may cause a problem. You only put it on the trigger when you go to shoot, okay?”

“Okay.” Your lips quivered as did your voice, speaking almost as faintly as a tiny mouse.

“You need to bend over a little for me now, sweetheart.” He whispered against your ear, his southern accent making your heart skip a beat. “Arms outstretched, hands straight— that's it.” You remained silent, completely speechless, for the only thing that could ever come out of your throat would be a fucking whimper. Your body would melt at any moment against his.

Seeing that you maintained the correct position of your hands and arms, his hands now moved down to your waist, positioning your hips as they were meant to be.

“Your hips have to hold your whole body, keep them steady— firm, your feet too.” His little finger lightly brushed against the bare skin of your thigh as he moved your hips, making you exhale air through your teeth. “That's it, good girl.”

Under his palms he could feel the straps of your panties through the thin fabric of your shirt and the and the thrill and heat of it all rushed through his body, right down towards his crotch.

“Mhm… you're not half bad.” He opined taking in your entire posture now, lifting his head slightly over your shoulder, his hands venturing slowly up your waist, uncovering and molding every curve they traversed. His breath collided against your neck, giving you goosebumps. “You're not bad at all, kid.”

You swallowed saliva and dared to finally turn your head, meeting his face inches from yours. His nose had always struck you as one of the most attractive things about him, and seeing it from that angle it really was something else. You wondered what it would feel like to sit on it. Fucking hell.

Your eyes moved from his down his face, until they stopped on his lips, the mere image made you lick yours, half-opening them, almost able to taste them on your own.

He half-opened his mouth and you didn't have to look at his eyes to know he was hesitant, unsure, but, despite all the thousand emotions he felt, he stayed right there, hands clasping your waist, pulling you as close to his body as possible. Waiting for your next move. Probably thinking you'd slap him right there for being an old fucking creep, maybe you'd shoot him too.

But, what you actually did was lean closer to him, twisting your head in a not so comfortable and natural way, but which was certainly worth it once you joined your lips with his.

And it didn't take Joel more than a second to fall into what was really going on and adapt to it with pleasure, following your lips and closing his eyes with delight. His hands tightened around your waist, turning you in his arms so he could kiss you better, twisting his head slightly, nose brushing against yours in the movement.

Without even opening your eyes, you dropped the gun ;―completely empty, by the way― and your hands went up his chest, wrapping around his neck as you made him walk backwards, his back meeting the door, which at the force, closed until his back was pressed against it, with you secured firmly between his arms.

A breathy little moan climbed up your throat as Joel nibbled on your lower lip gently, breaking the kiss and allowing you both to catch your breaths. And he can swear that that little sound he got out of your mouth is how they receive him in heaven.

His eyes remained closed for a few more moments, still savoring your exquisite taste in his mouth.

One of his hands rested on your face, cradling your cheek, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone. His eyes, though dilated, were as soft as ever once he opened them again.

Joel sighed against your mouth, trying to catch his breath, calming all the lust that threatened to take over his whole body. “We really shouldn't.”

But the truth was that he did want to, he did want you, with all his body and soul, every part of him was screaming out pleas to just let himself be carried away by you, to let himself fall into your hands.

You looked up at him with big eyes, confused by his words and totally astonished by what had just happened, but shook your head lightly, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling it still wet.

“You…” your voice sounded hesitant, face falling with sadness, perhaps disappointment well, “you don't want me?”

Joel felt his chest tighten as he saw fear peek through the beautiful look in your eyes and quickly rushed to reassure you. He would have laughed at how truly silly your words were, given the situation and how you practically had him melted between your hands, by just one damn kiss and your closeness.

“No, baby— of course I want you.” His fingers soothingly caressed your face, so delicately over your soft skin as if you were a doll, made of porcelain. You twisted your head, still confused by his sudden rejection, prompting him to explain further. “Of course I want you, you're the prettiest thing my eyes have ever seen, for God's sake. But we shouldn't… I couldn't do this to you.”

“Joel,” his name came so deliciously out of your mouth that he closed his eyes to hear it echo inside his head, trying to hold himself back, “I've waited so fucking long for this moment and now that I have it, I won't waste it just because of your old man antics.”

“It's not about antics,” he explained after twisting his head, raising his eyebrows at your words and usual sassy behavior, brown eyes opening, threatening to bathe you in their glistening caramel color. “I'm trying to make things right here.”

“If you're worried about the age difference, you're wrong, Joel.” Your fingers sank into his hair as you spoke to him in a soft tone, noting how his gaze had fallen back to your lips for a few moments. “There is no right and wrong in this world anymore, so... why should we held back?”

“You want this too?” He had the nerve to ask, voice low and raspy, tilting his head slightly so he could look at you. “You want me?”

If there was one thing Joel disliked and well, hated, it was intimacy, sharing his vulnerable side, letting his weaknesses show. He'd barely been lucky to do that with Tess, because they'd known each other for years. But with you… everything was different. He couldn't just fuck you and never talk to you again, he couldn't do that, because you simply weren't that to him. You were so much more than that.

“I'd let you fuck me all goddamn night, Joel Miller.” You answered him instantly and a hint of a smile rose at the corner of his lips at your words and the assurance you put into them. “So yeah, I've never in my damn life wanted anything so badly as I want you.”

“All night, huh?” He questioned in an amused tone, eyes analyzing every detail of your face, both hands were now on your face, fingers tracing nonexistent lines and patterns on your skin. “I don't know if my body can take that much back pain. My young days are far behind me now.”

“Then just lie back and let me ride you.”

Those were the words he just needed to hear before fucking avalanching against you, joining his lips with yours in a now, more passionate and exciting kiss. His hands cradled your jaw, keeping you close to him, right where he wanted to have you.

Your hands moved down from his neck to the edges of your shirt and Joel helped you pull it off your body, lustful eyes, eager to see your body without fabrics getting in the way.

“What about Bill and Frank? Tomorrow I want to leave this house without a bullet fired between my eyes.”

You smiled teasingly against his lips. “Relax, they already know. Smart-asses, remember?”

He was aware of the relationship you had with Bill and Frank, especially the former, for he had been the one who had found you in the first place, merciful enough to let you live and let you into his home. And well, who could say no to those big eyes and innocent, pretty face? Even Bill hadn't been able to fight against it.

“Right.” He answered breathlessly, not really having the slightest idea of what you had just said, as he was so intently concentrated on contemplating the magnificence of your body, completely enthralled, blurred mind and all. Suddenly, the sweatpants were too tight in his crotch area.

He was just taking the time he deserved to observe you in front of him, leaning up to leave kisses on your jaw, down your neck, past your shoulders. His hands moved up your waist, stopping under your breasts, his gaze moving up from them to you again, eyes as sweet as honey, but so dilated, darkened by lust and desire, eager for more of you.

In an instant you deduced what he was trying to say from his gaze and before he could even formulate any words, you stroked his cheek, thumb tracing his lower lip affectionately. “Just touch me Joel, please. I'm all yours.”

“Goddamn it.”

― — ―

Morning had arrived and the sun was shining high in the sky as if one of the most chaotic storms of the last few months had not passed just the night before.

“Good morning.” You greeted Bill, Frank and Tess sitting at the table, your hand clutching your coffee cup.

Joel was already seated as well and under Bill's frowning gaze, he gave you a short look, barely smiling in your direction as he took a sip of his own coffee, black and bitter of course.

“Mornin'.” You were greeted back by him, perching the cup on the side of his toast and giving you an affectionate look. You smiled back at him.

Tess looked at her partner with a raised eyebrow, noting the shared complicity in your interaction, as did Bill and Frank, of course, who shared a single knowing glance, Frank smiling and Bill with his lips as pursed as his brow.

You cleared your throat, taking in your hand one of the cookies you had baked with Bill the day before, trying to ignore the awkward silence that had suddenly formed.

“So…” Frank began to speak, tone playful, but face with feigned concern, “it really was rowdy last night, a lot of noise out there.”

Your eyes widened at his words, second meaning all too obvious to everyone. Joel took a long sip of his coffee once more, lowering his eyes to the surface of the table after running into Bill's watchful, almost killing gaze.

“Really loud storm.” Tess agreed with him, nodding her head slowly and bringing her cup to her mouth. Of course she would never stop teasing Joel about this.

“I hate the storm.” Bill mumbled with a displeased face.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel my beloved #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader

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2-dsimp · 25 days

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A/n: hey yall this is my first ever yandere collab that I did with my dear mutual @yandere-dreams-but-not-really and I’ve never knew how much fun it’d be collabing with others until I did so with them ＜3

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Yandere company Bros

The eldest brother

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→ CW: Yandere tendencies, unhealthy coping methods, obsessive/possessive behavior, Judas needs a hug, internal company conflict

Synopsis: 【You were a new intern for hire at the grand Acer international company ran by the Kinzen family. And you stood out amongst your colleagues by being capable, ambitious, and dedicated to the craft! All the qualities of a true corporate slave which may have attracted some unheeded attention from the future inheritors of said company itself. Ultimately you ended up getting sucked into an internal family succession battle between the youngest and the eldest brother…Let’s just hope you make it out in ONE PIECE.】

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【Eldest brother! Judas was never the type to believe in love at first sight. Despite his father always ranting on about how he fell for his strict mother at first glance. He never truly understood what it meant to feel a romantic love for someone. Throughout his highscool and college years he’s never had a crush or been in a relationship for that matter.】

【But all his reservations went out the window when he saw you, a well put together newbie walking past the doors of the well established business owned by him and his family. Encompassing an essence that of a fresh summer breeze which completely disarmed him.】

【Truly he thought he worked himself to death and was blessed with the sight of an angel who came down to take him away from his mundane life. Of being in his mother, Isidore’s shadow as a prominent businesswoman. Known across the world for her cutthroat business conduct.】

【Eldest brother! Judas was at a loss for words as you stepped up to him with those bright attentive eyes. And offered to help take on the loaded stacks of papers he was lugging into his office with an altruistic smile. The fact that he knew you didn’t know who he was at that time and was this naturally sweet. As opposed to everyone else who usually try coming to his aide with ulterior motives】

【Made His motherfucking heart grip at the enclosure of his rib cage at how you just politely interjected yourself in his space to go ahead and take half of his work load off of him. while he was stunned stupid too flabbergasted to even utter a sentence.】

【This socially stunted stoic man was trying his best to keep his mind afloat as he’s never been affected by such intense emotions before in his 23 years of living. He didn’t know how to act as he tended to isolate himself from his peers. In turn for studying business till his nose bled and working himself up the corporate food chain.】

【Eldest brother! Judas resembled that of a black cat who was looking in pure awe of his new fixation which wasn’t work or studying. His pristine appearance was now unkept with hairs falling flat in his face from how caught off guard he was. Finding himself mindlessly trailing after the new bubbly intern in long strides.】

【When yall reached his office he struggled to find the words to thank you. But his haywire brain opted to abruptly encase your hand in his and bring it towards his bleeding heart. as he gave you what seemed to be a death stare inherited from his mother but in reality was an expression full of gratitude, obsession, and adoration.】

【Congratulations you’ve unknowingly seduced the eldest heir of the Kinzen family. And there’s no take backsies.】

【Eldest brother!Judas is the type to be more or less clingy with his darling. Always calling them to his office to ask for “help” on some assignments. which caused onlookers to give him surprised exchanges. Since the famed hermit workaholic never came out of his dumpster fire of an office to request help of any kind.】

【He just loves seeing you breathe in his general direction. It makes him impulsively grip at the sides of ball pen till it damn near snapped in two. From how His heart is was overflowing with so much pure and genuine infatuation for you.】

【The eldest Kinzen was a ticking time bomb since he always kept everything little thing bottled up inside and never had anyone to confide to unlike his youngest brother Dexter who was a social troglodyte.】

【So as time progresses Judas spends each and every waking moment fantasizing. About what it would be to show you all the admiration that he feels for you. To convey how you’ve turned his world upside down and to emphasize how utterly precious you’d be underneath him due to size difference ahem his management. Working alongside him as his lovely equal/assistant manager.】

【Only one strand of restraint was holding him back from pouncing on you as if he had no good sense. But it was waning with how his meddlesome brother Dexter kept interfering with y’all’s pleasant time together.】

【Eventhough he may have been born with a diamond spoon he was never the one to indulge in it. Not that he could since his mother Isidore was a hard fashioned woman with a strict traditional upbringing. She instilled in her sons that what you earn is what you keep and how there was nothing such as free handouts in the world.】

【And yet since he was the eldest, Isidore made sure to remind him how it was his responsibility to steer his brother in the right direction. Taking her words to heart he always made an effort to accommodate his brother to an extent.】

【In their childhood days whatever Dexter wanted something from Judas. The eldest willingly gave in to him since he could be fussy if he didn’t get what he wanted. But once he noticed the eyes Dexter made at you whilist making you laugh from his charm.】

【Something snapped inside Judas. He didn’t like the way Dexter was trying to put dibs on you in his subtle hand placement on your waist. He despised how happy you sounded from the half baked jokes of the Youngest. He hated how easy it was for Dexter to strike up a conversation with you and be in your general presence without need for work excuses.】

【Don’t look at his brother look at him sure he may not have the best social ques or a way with words but he’ll treat you right. Judas will take care of you as if you were a queen to the throne of his heart.】

“I’ll be good, I’ll be perfect just for you… All I want is for you to look at me, focus only on me, Please don’t look elsewhere with those eyes of yours. I just wanna be yours. So choose me, not him.”

【He’d seldom show you in the most intense ways possible, the depraved man he’s become. Falling weak to his needs to hug you, to kiss you, to embrace you, to show you all the love that he can possibly show you. Within his iron grasp since you’re the one thing that he’ll never give up to his youngest sibling no matter how much tries to tempt you away from him.】

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xxsabitoxx · 23 days

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Pale Blue Part 3 [TEASER]

Geto Suguru x Pregnant Reader

WARNINGS: This is just a teaser so I won't have to put too much of a spoiler warning here... however this story follows the canon plot of jujutsu kaisen so if you haven't read or watched Hidden Inventory / Premature Death you WILL be spoiled

A/N: Alright so, I've been wanting to post a teaser and since I'm over 11k words into my current draft of part 3, now is a good time. This is BY NO MEANS me saying that part 3 will be ready any time soon. I have a TON of plot to write and I've already added more to this story than I thought I would... aka a smut flashback that has amassed over 9k words and counting because I am still writing. My goal is to get part 3 out sometime early this summer. I am a full-time teacher and a full-time university student with only a month and a half left in the semester so I do have to prioritize my school and work life first and foremost!! That and my health as I have several medical appointments and procedures occurring over the next 2 months.

Thank you for bearing with me as always!

December 24th, 2007 [25 weeks along]

Your heart was pounding as Suguru’s hand wrapped tightly around your own. You were still running on adrenaline from your successful escape, still mildly sore from the strenuous activities you had completed only an hour or so prior. “What if they don’t like me, Sugu?” you had never thought you would be so concerned about two small girls' opinions of you. “They will love you, my sweet girl. They’ve listened to me talk about you for far too long to not love you.” But you wanted to argue that Suguru likely painted them a romanticized picture of you, it wasn’t a promise that they would immediately love you in return. That was something that needed to be earned. You leaned into him as the car continued its journey to your new home. “I need a shower.” you murmured that a little quieter than anything you had said previously, not wanting the driver to hear you.

Suguru chuckled at the volume change, hand squeezing yours a little tighter. “I promise you, once we get home and get settled, I will assist you with a nice long bath.” Your ears perked at that, turning your head so your cheek pressed into his broad shoulder. “A bath?” you couldn’t recall the last time you got to enjoy soaking in a bathtub; Jujutsu tech’s housing only had showers in each dorm room. If you wanted to soak, you’d have to travel to an onsen or spa house. That wasn’t really convenient for you, and you had learned hot temperatures weren’t ideal for a pregnant woman to submerge into. But a warm bath wouldn’t be the end of the world, you were sure of that. “Yes, my new home comes with a shower and a bath, the bathroom is ideal for you.” You felt your cheeks warm, you had talked about your dream home only a few times with Suguru.

And yet he seemed to keep all of those key characteristics in mind when apartment hunting. “You really trusted I would return to you.” It was more of a statement than a question, one that made Suguru’s cheeks redden as he nodded a bit. “My faith in you has never waivered, Y/N.” you were melting all over again, pregnancy hormones mixing with the relief of being with him once more had your body scooting ever closer to him. “I love you, Sugu.” the hand that wasn’t occupied with his moved to hold his forearm. If you could, you would wrap yourself around him and never let go. “I love you too, I always have and I always will.” Suguru’s unoccupied hand moved to rest on the swell of your stomach. “You both mean the world to me.” You were quite certain the two of you looked somewhat like a pretzel with the way your arms were all intertwined.

“Here we are sir, I hope the two of you have a lovely holiday.” The car stopped in front of a large apartment building on a quiet street. “Thank you so much, we’ll see you after the new year.” Suguru smiled, pulling an envelope out of his robe and slipping it up to the front seat. “Happy holidays sir.” He thanked the both of you, watching as Suguru got out first and quickly made his way around to your door. “After you, my lady.” You rolled your eyes, laughing at the cheesiness and taking his outstretched hand as you stepped out of the vehicle and onto the cold pavement. “Welcome to your new neighborhood.” Suguru shut the door, waving to the driver once more before he put the car in drive and left you two standing on the sidewalk. “It’s so peaceful.” you watched your own breath fan out in front of you, the sun had long since set and the chill of december had consumed the city.

“It’s a safe neighborhood and it’s within walking distance of Nanako and Mimiko’s school. I enrolled them right before the new school year started and they’ve been adjusting well.” You nodded, heart picking up again as you realized you were about to meet the two little girls that Suguru had given up everything for. “C’mon, let’s head in and get settled for the night.” His hand had never left yours, holding it just a little tighter as he turned to lead you inside. “We live on the sixth floor.” Suguru started, pulling a small key out of his pocket and slotting it in the front door’s lock. “I’ll contact the landlord to get you a key as well, that way you can come and go as you please.” He pulled it back a moment later, pushing the door in and stepping aside so you could go first. “I just got you back, Sugu. I don’t think I’ll be going many places without you.”

Your attempts at being lighthearted were becoming increasingly difficult. “Hey.” Suguru rejoined you inside of the building’s lobby, arms moving to wrap around you. “You’re allowed to be upset with me, you know that right?” Suguru was speaking into the top of your head, placing soft kisses as he waited for your response. “I know I’m allowed to be upset, Suguru. It’s just a lot.” Your arms wrapped around his pillowing robes, the soft silk slightly cold from the air outside. “I know it’s a lot, and I don’t want to push you in one direction or the other. But I can assure you that I will not leave your side ever again.” That was a bold promise, one that was impossible to keep whether Suguru wanted to admit it or not. That, however, was a conversation for another day. “I love you.” It was timid as you pulled away from him, smiling a bit as his hands moved to cup your cheeks.

“I love you too.” Suguru’s lips met yours in a soft kiss, one that was gentle and full of promise. After a moment he pulled away, sighing as he spoke. “Let’s go home, and let's get you that bath.” you felt a little less worried as Suguru guided you to the elevators. It took the doors opening for the anxiety to pull at your heart again. “I’ve got a babysitter that comes to watch the girls, I still think they are too young to be home alone. She’s the daughter of one of my followers, she’s in junior high and the girls get along great with her.” You nodded, stepping into the fluorescent lit elevator. “That’s amazing, Sugu. You really thought of everything for them.” Your hand rested on the swell of your baby bump, he was already an amazing father to those two girls. Now, you couldn’t wait to see him holding your child in a few months. “I’m trying to give them a better life.”

You turned to look at him, lips parted a bit as you stared. “You’re doing amazing, and now you’ll have me to help you. I can take over all the girlie things you may struggle with… though you certainly know how to take care of your hair… and pick out clothes… hmm perhaps i’m not needed.” You grinned, watching Suguru’s neck nearly break as he turned to look at you. “You will always be needed. By me, by the girls, by our baby…” you tried to stifle your laughter, turning to press your forehead to his bicep as you struggled to say “I’m just teasing you, Sugu.” Whiplash, in all the months apart, Suguru somehow managed to forget the whiplash you were capable of giving him. “Alright, don’t scare me like that.” The elevator opened up to the sixth floor, with your hand in his, he guided you out and down the hall. “The girls are typically hesitant around new people, but I’ve shown them pictures of you, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry.”

“It’s understandable, Suguru. What you wrote to me in your letter, those poor babies have every right to be hesitant of new people. I don’t take any offense.” You could understand where they were coming from, having a harsher childhood yourself but nothing close compared to the neglect they likely faced. “This is our home.” Suguru stopped in front of an apartment door with the number 612 on a plaque just beside it, just as every apartment had. “612, got it.” You let go of his hand so he could put the key in the door, your fingers intertwined with each other as you held your breath. After a moment you heard the lock click, the door pushing open easily a moment later. “We’re home!” Suguru called in the apartment, two pairs of small feet bounding against the wooden floor before they crashed into him with cheers of “Papa Geto!”

You watched, a smile on your face as Suguru easily scooped up both girls and hugged them tightly. “I’ve missed the two of you, I hope you’ve been good for Aoi.” at the sound of her name, a young girl appeared in the doorway. “Good evening, Geto-Sama. Mimi and Nana have been wonderful, no need to worry.” She looked to be a junior high student, likely their babysitter. You had to take a moment at that realization, the girl before you realistically was only a few years younger than you. For some reason, that part of your youth now felt fuzzy and distant. Your baby kicking only dragged you back further, your hand reaching down to smooth over your bump. “I expect nothing less from my girls, thank you for taking the time to watch them for me, Aoi.” Suguru set the two girls down, stepping back a little and extending his arm to you.

“This is my wife, Y/N. She’s been away for a few months but she's finally home, Aoi. I just wanted to introduce the two of you now, as I will be giving you her contact information.” You felt your cheeks warm, Suguru had always jokingly called you his wife when it was just the two of you alone together. But never once had he introduced you in that manner. “It’s lovely to meet you, Aoi.” You smiled at her mildly awestruck look, giving her a small bow that she quickly returned. “I-it’s lovely to meet you Y/N-Sama.” You were aware of the two girls looking up at you with eyes as wide as dinner plates. “Well, don’t let us keep you, Aoi. I’m sure your parents are waiting. Tell them I said hello and happy holidays.” Suguru handed her an envelope, one that likely held her pay for babysitting that night. “Thank you so much, enjoy your holiday everyone.” She stepped out of the apartment and down the hall, waving bye to the two girls as she went.

“Why don’t we head inside and get settled for the night, hmm?” Suguru turned to you, extending his hand for you to take as the two girls bounded back inside. “Sounds good to me.” You could feel anxiety webbing its way through your veins, while you had technically just met the girls, you hadn’t really met them. “You’re shaking.” Suguru murmured softly as your hand wrapped around his, pulling you from your thoughts as he looked at you with pinched brows. “I’m still nervous, Sugu.” He was guiding you inside, watching as you took in the sight of your new home. It was a small foyer right by the door, just enough space for a shoe and coat rack. Suguru had set a small end table in the corner with a bowl for keys, it made you laugh a bit because it was a very him thing to do. “They are two small girls with a lot of baggage, just be yourself and they’ll adore you.” You slipped off your shoes, “Could you at least tell me which one is Nana and which one is Mimi?”

“Nana and Mimi are the nicknames Aoi gave them, Mimiko is the the twin with the darker hair. And Nanako is the twin with the lighter, blonde hair. I want them to introduce themselves and make their own first impressions, they’ve heard much about you from me already.” Suguru confessed softly as he dropped his keys in the bowl. “I see.” was all you could choke out, inhaling deeply through your nose and out your mouth as you rest both hands on the swell of your baby bump. It had become your biggest source of comfort, it eased your anxiety to feel your child. Suguru, still sensing your unease, closed the distance and wrapped you in a tight hug. “You’ve been through a lot today, the girls would understand if you’d rather just relax and head to bed.” His lips met your hair, kissing it softly as he felt you melt into him. “No, that’s not necessary. I want to meet them, I’m just overthinking it.” Your voice was muffled by his silk robes, you needed to rip the bandaid off because you were beyond positive he was right.

“Girls?” Suguru called over his shoulder, feeling you jump a bit as your fingers were tightening in the silk of his robes. “Yeah?” In sync, seemingly from the room just down the small hallway. You assumed it was the living room. “Are you up to meeting Mama Y/N properly? She won’t be offended if the two of you aren’t up for it yet.” You had to smile a bit, he cherished and respected those girls so deeply. The response he got was a jumble of excited reassurment, eager to meet you. “Alright, it seems everyone is on the same page.” Suguru flashed you a toothy smile, holding your hand tightly as he led you into the living room.

To be continued 🩵

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delicate-cupcake · 3 months

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Random Things about your Future Spouse

Hello everybody 🌹

This is my first post as a tarot reader and I am very excited to post it here. I wanted it to be light so I kept this reading short. I hope you will like it and resonate with it. Please tell me if anything resonates it will help me alot to develop confidence in me.

Pile 1 ------- Pile 2 -------- Pile 3 ------ Pile 4

Pile 1

Handsome

Rules follower

Shoulder length hair

They have sexy imagination *okay I was writing dirty minded but they legit corrected me as I have sexy imagination not dirty mind*

Only divine knows

Do your best!!!! *Maybe you are upto something and they are rooting for you they want to tell you that they are always there for you.*

Summer time

Why did I meet you?

Might be a little overweight

Long hair

many admirers

No. 7 might be significant

Pile 2

5 years age gap or you might meet them 5 years from now

Grateful for things they have

Cherish their closed ones alot

No. 9,2,18,4could be significant

Will never hold you back

Might deal with some self- depreciating thoughts

They really love you

Morning person

Virgo

Freckles

Egypt

Geminipast live connection

HRA

Dancer

Rich

Aquarius

For some of you, I am getting that there might be some problem with their parents or your parents. Maybe them or you don't really have a good relationship with your parents and they might become a blockage during this union.

But one thing that I constantly got in this Pile is that your person saying things like I love you, I will never let you go, I will be there for you till the day I die. They really love you but they have to work on themselves for this relationship to last.

Pile 3

They will have a sharp memory like they remember the smallest things about somebody or something somebody said like a year ago

Might use the word sorry alot

17,999 could be significant numbers

Thursday

Pets

They might fear that you will leave

You might have to reassure them from time to time

I got where's my angel?

Very cute

"Life feels like a dream with you"

Love their and your parents

Broken from past relationships

O maybe their or your initial

Unique hair colour

Good looking

Pile 4

Moustache

Love you

Sweet voice

You are there lucky star

Deep voice

Caring

Beautiful

000, 11:11 could be significant numbers

Winter

Broken from past relationships

A,U could be their or your initial

Tomboy

Younger than you

Marriage

Morning person

Busy

Chaotic

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this reading and it resonates with you. Please leave a feedback if you can. And enjoy. Also these readings are for entertainment purposes only and none of the pictures belong to me.

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the-biggest-fox · 11 months

Text

I like when the summer starts dwindling in

It’s like the smell of rain, before the clouds start to form

But instead it’s how much you crave a breeze in the day

And how grateful you are when it comes

I like when you notice you stopped noticing that the leaves were coming in

And now your backyard sings with birds and bugs and a deep summer green

When you open your window at night

To see the dark blue evening sky and cool the thick air of your bedroom down

It’s 9pm

And the sun is just setting now

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mmmatchasims · 5 months

Text

Citrine: *laughing* I’m not messing with you! I didn’t know it was illegal to give other people a ride if you only had your learner’s permit. I saw headlights flashing in my mirror and I freaked out. So that’s the story of how I lead a car-chase with the cops back in Evergreen Harbor.

Hibiscus: For three blocks? That’s not nearly as metal as you think it is. You didn’t even run any lights!

Citrine: I also wasn’t wearing my seatbelt.

Hibiscus: Wow, you’re a menace to society. Actually though, you’re lucky you didn’t get in any real trouble. Imagine if they revoked your permit?

#ts4 legacy #ts4 storytelling #ts4 #berry sweet sims #pastel rainbowcy #dream bpr #dream gen 3 #hibiscus dream #citrine shine #evergreen harbor is where citrine and her family moved to windenburg from over the summer #absolutely wild to move while you have two kids in high school #but we'll get more into that......... later

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yawneon · 2 months

Note

percy will a s/o that’s always sleeping🫶

BLUE - NOISE

a/n : this is so bad 😭😭😭

pairing : in love!percy jackson x hermes kid!reader

summary : in which percy jackson has his best birthday yet.

!!! : praying for more reqs, this one is so cute, i try my best 😞, maybe the plot was the friends we made along the way, unspecified demigod reader, book percy, ooc camp, i wanted it to be rainy in camp so ITS GOINF TO RAIN 🤬, the curse of never being able to write alot returns, THIS IS SO BAD

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

people at camp could’ve sworn there had been a mix up in olympus.

you. an hermes child? what a laugh.

you had to be a kid of hypnos. you slept so much, how couldn’t you? genuinely you couldn’t peel yourself off your bed like ever. everyone in camp knew, you were the person in cabin 11 that won’t get out bed if not needed. alcoholics had alcohol, gamblers had casinos but you… you had something far more worse.

you had the (in your humble opinion) the most comfortable bed in all of camp. sure, it wasn’t a 5 star hotel quality but shit was it good.

and more importantly it was the beds fault that you were oh so tired all the time and you just needed to sleep more than half the day.

everyone else couldn’t care less.. your siblings would just give you a small glance before ignoring you because honestly it was more surprising to see you awake! and trust me when you started dating percy.. did this get worse.

whatever you thought about having the best bed in camp was trampled on and thrown over a cliff edge the moment you laid in percy’s bed.

not only was his bed adorned with comfortable sheets and pillows his cabin was quiet.

percy didn’t understand however.

how on earth could you sleep when you have the most handsome and amazing boyfriend in all of the whole universe??

he has whined and frowned at you multiple times but you’ve slickly avoided his dramatics by lathering him up with sweet and sappy comments like “im dreaming of you~” that make annabeth and grover cringe at when he goes and boasts to them.

but today,

today you couldn’t avoid the dread of getting out of bed.

you stood at the foot of his bed holding a plate of waffles, blue ones. it was far too early for you, (it was 8am) but it was percy’s birthday. you weren’t going to neglect your boyfriend because gods you would never hear the end of it. so you decided to go against your force of nature and got up to whip up a batch of waffles for him.

despite it being the midst of summer rain pelted down against the hard exterior of cabin 3. it didn’t rain usually in camp, the rain would usually just pass right by but maybe the gods were arguing again and the storm was especially hard this day.

sluggishly you drag your feet to stand beside the bed in which percy sleeping.

you wished that was you.

the plate adorning the blue waffles are set down on his bedside table and you place a gentle hand on his shoulder shaking him. despite your (sucky) efforts he doesn’t stir awake.

you grab his arm now with both hands and you shake him harder than before and finally does he grumble awake.

he looks up at you, confused.

“happy birthday, idiot” you pick up and hold the plate of waffles up so he could see them a tired but sweet look on your face. he sits up on his elbows and a dopey smile appears on his face, a very common smile he shines when he looks at you.

“this all for me?” percy sits up fully now taking the plate from you and he smiles bigger now gaining his full conscious. he pats the empty side of the bed next to him and you basically throw yourself into the white sheets.

despite the innate need to sink further in and take ahold of the sleep thats so desperately trying to drag you down you sit up and watch him. “you’re up, today.” percy teases, his shoulder nudging yours.

“just shut up and eat your breakfast.” you laugh softly amused by his jokes.

he begins gobbling the waffles down, scoffing down the cream on top and cleaning the plate of any remains of food. it was actually very impressive how well he ate all of it.

percy’s eyes trail to the window of his cabin his eyes watching as the raindrops pelt down at the glass and the sound of the rain hitting the walls and roof echo loudly.

percy places the plate back onto the bedside and looks out the window. “say aye if your in to stay home all day?” he peeks at you, another dopey smile that you just couldn’t resist is painted on his face.

you didn’t even reply to him, your arm snakes around his collarbone and you basically slump him into bed. you both lay on your back and then percy starts talking.

he always did this. percy would talk and talk and talk while you laid next to him, even if you were asleep he would keep going. just the feeling of having you next to him was comfortable so he would talk about all different kinds of things and today wasn’t any different.

you however wanted to listen to him today but oh geez was it hard.

again it wasn’t your fault that his voice was smooth and calming to listen to even of he was talking about how he fell one time and scraped his knee when he was 7. it was like ypur white noise. you already slept a fuck-ton and having a boyfriend with the most sweetest voice was not helping you.

he held your hand as he laid next to you, his eyes tracing every detail of the ceiling as his fingers dance along your palm. he starts telling you all about how his first quest went. a story you’ve heard over.. and over and over again.

“when i started my quest..” blah blah blah.

your eyes shut and all you could focus on was his voice and the noise of water hitting the window panes. his hand was warm in yours and with his free hand percy pulls the covers over the both of you so only your heads were poking out. he slips his arm under your head and his other hand grabs yours again as he keeps rambling on.

before you could fully drift off you turn into him, you could feel his eyes on you as he watches you shift and his words pause for a moment.

“i love you.” he whispers, hoping that you were asleep. you smile into his skin, a clear sign you were still all there.

“i love you too, happy birthday percy.” you half open your eyes you pull his face down by grabbing his cheeks and you kiss under his eye before moving back down.

percy flashes his signature smile before his story changes from his quest to tell you about how on his 9th birthday his mom baked him a blue cake and how it was awesome. you make a mental note to yourself before drifitng off.

you dreamt of percy that night.

let me rephrase that.

you dream of percy.

you dream of him even though he is yours.

his pretty green eyes, his black hair, his sandy skin on the beach. but more often than not you dream of him like how you are now.

cuddled up beside you, warm under the covers as he tells you about all kinds of things like how he thinks the universe was made.

you dream about him dreaming of you which you know he does (since he tells you).

you dream about the way he wants you despite your sleeping routines, you dream about the way he calls you his sleeping beauty.

yet all those dreams are the reality you live. maybe missing a few hours off of slumber isn’t all that bad when your spending it with the boy you see when you close your eyes.

@yawneon

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #percy is cute #i love him

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tatoda · 9 months

Text

Guitar Pick | college!conrad x fem!reader

request

masterlist

part 2

summary: you go to Brown and maybe you don’t exactly fit in, but one brown haired boy makes you feel as if you do

pairing: college!conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: just fluff <3

wc: 800 (sorry it's short im getting back into things)

first con fic since last year :) a little rusty on the writing i apologize. sorry it’s not so long :(

It was the smell in the air that brought you comfort. The casual people-watching you would do as you walked down to the music store closest to campus— it wasn’t the best place to shop but it will do for the times you’re in Providence.

The ding of the door sounded as you walked through the store. The red interior with wood floors reminded you of back home, so that is why you kept coming back to the same spot every weekend. No one tried to bother you when shopping. Of course some boys would walk by and you’d glance their way, but they would never glance back at you the same way.

Picking up a guitar from one of the stands you sat down at the small corner couch. You have always loved playing any instrument, you would run around the house singing and hitting any object around the house to make drums until your aunt got you a ukulele at the age of 6 which took your dreams and desires for music to grow. Being at Brown surprised your family. They really thought you would just go to a music school, but you wanted to explore other career paths. Sometimes your parents weren’t proud of it but they supported your decision.

After a few minutes of strumming the instrument, you stood back up to get a new guitar pick. It was time for a new one— well that’s what you told yourself but you just loved shopping for new things. Reaching for a red and green one, another pair of hands reached for the same one.

“sorry.” glancing up at the voice, you see a boy maybe around your age, with brown eyes and brown hair as his cheeks turned a little red at the intersection

“no that’s my fault sorry, go ahead it’s all yours.” you gestured towards the pick.

“no, my mom raised me to be a gentleman. please take it.”

“i-“ but the tall figure cut you off

“please i was looking at another one anyways.” he looked down at you

“thanks, sorry again.” you softly grabbed it as he smiled gently at you before picking up a solid navy blue one

You didn’t think twice before you went to go pay for it and took off out of the store carrying on with your day.

The next day, you sat under a tree strumming your guitar just letting the nice weather hit for once. The shade of the tree helped you relax not being blinded by the sun. You were so busy strumming the instrument you didn’t realize the figure walking towards you.

“guitar pick girl.” the familiar voice called out making you stop in movement, the boy from yesterday. he was walking towards you wearing a Brown sweatshirt and sweatpants

“hi.” you softly introduced not knowing you would be seeing this boy again

“I’m sorry, i know it’s weird for me just to walk up like that and rude for me to not know your name. you left too quickly yesterday i tried to-to get your name but you were gone.” he played with his fingernails as he spoke

“sorry.” you smiled apologetically not knowing why this boy who you totally thought was cute was suddenly approaching you

“no worries,” he rocked on his feet “i-im Conrad, Conrad Fisher” he stuck his hand out to you and you lifted yours off the guitar

“y/n y/l/n” his eyes seemed to immediately remember the future

“how long have you been playing?”

“my whole life basically. you play?” he nods

“yeah just not too long ago maybe like a summer or 2, my mom wanted me to learn a song for her.”

“that’s sweet of you. you must be a mamas boy for the two times you have mentioned her talking to me.” you grinned at him

“yeah.” he sadly smiled and you didn’t feel like pushing him to ask about what it was all about “do you mind if i sit? you look like you need some company.” he gestured to the grass next to you

“all yours.” conrad then sat down next to you criss-cross

“what year are you?” he played with the grass that was in front of him

“junior, what about you?”

“sophomore.” you nodded and you both went silent but it wasn’t a bad silence, it was comfortable

“could i take you out sometime?” your eyes drifted over to conrad and his eyes went wide “sorry! i didn’t mean to come off so strong, i’d just like to get to know you better.” you looked down at his hands as they played with the grass faster and you put a hand over his to stop his movements

“i’d love that.” his eyes went to your hands and his visible relaxed

“i just thought you were really pretty yesterday.” that sentence made you blush and look down biting your lip

“i thought you were pretty cute too, conrad.”

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp #conrad fisher #prime video #the summer i turned pretty season 2 #college!conrad fisher #belly x conrad #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher one shot #conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x fem!reader

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cowgirlaside · 3 months

Text

✦ GOOD ANGLES

🖍️: just a bunch of y/n's pictures collection, taken by carlos

☎️: bruna marquezine

🍄: incorrect/translated spanish, quite oot from the summary and the song, slight cursing, lovesick couple

🎈: this has been on my queue for a lot while, so let's give it a go before i post get him back pt 2!

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 829,411 others

carlossainz55 🐁❤️

view all 7,401 comments...

charles_leclerc How adorable😍

username now i want him to be my baby daddy

username give that kid back and make one

marcmarquez93 ¿Cuándo harás uno con ella?😂😂

⤷ carlossainz55 Cállate

username just do it carlos, i knew you want it

⤷ landonorris yeah like WE all KNEW...🙄🙄

⤷ username aren't we all?😏

username whose baby is that? they looks so adorable

username why is she looks like a mother already?

username i'm convinced that she is holding the alleged baby

⤷ username is that because you believe that he is the baby daddy?

⤷ username yea

username literally mother is mothering idc

username i can't believe carlos posting her and ONLY her on his feed... and with a disposable camera too

⤷ username OMG CARLOS.JPG DEBUT?

⤷ yourusername life could be a dream...

⤷ username all his ferarri content gone, replaced with her 😏

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, neymarjr, luisinhaoliveira99, and 672,899 more

yourusername sweet dream😗

view all 9,500 comments...

badgalriri 😍

georgerussell63 NOW...

username MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA

username carlos if you don't see this i need you to see this right away

username never beating the mother allegations

username neymar get over her challenge (failed)

francisca.cgomes you looks like a mama already!!

charles_leclerc i'll check you one, mate

⤷ yourusername check what 🤨

⤷ landonorris you don't want to know

username cHARLES AND LANDO WHAT R U GUYS DOING

⤷ username oh shit his plan to make him a godfather is gonna be real

⤷ charles_leclerc good advice

⤷ landonorris wtf

username WHOSE BABY IS THAT AGAIN

username why is she giving us this?? and what for?

username mamacita 😋

username reply with blue emoji if charles force you to post this

username carlos is definitely took this because who else

pierregasly CARLOS CARLOS COME HERE BUDDY carlossainz55

⤷ username pierre what u doin here???

username this is the same woman that neymar had cheated on with some random girl at a club?

username he's posting this on purpose i know

username Y/N PLS GIVE ME A CHANCE

username this one looks fresh, this could be the alleged baby...🤫

yourusername

liked by millyalcock, carlossainz55, and 317,420 others

yourusername summer with my folks in yellow☀️

view all 3,968 comments...

lewishamilton PIPERRRRR!!!! I miss u sm goldieee🐕

⤷ yourusername piper miss u moree<3

roscoelovescoco i's want to meet i's bestie's

⤷ username i love the duality of lewis...

username i love her feeds now because ik that this was DEFINITELY not taken by her friend but carlos

username carlos's job is he's not an f1 driver:

landonorris i miss tiny piper :((

⤷ yourusername she loves you too, uncle😉

⤷ landonorris WHAT UNCLE NOW

⤷ username omg lando for godfather is real

⤷ charles_leclerc not before me

username she's stunning (come back to modelling babe)

carlossainz55 😎🌞

username when will i have someone like him😮‍💨

reyesvdec ❤️

⤷ username oh look carlos's mum is commenting

carlossainz55

liked by estrellagalicia00, yourusername, neymarjr, and 961,980 others

carlossainz55 The tag got you good

👤: yourusername

view all 2,608 comments...

username he got all of her good angles

yourusername what was that supposed to mean??

⤷ carlossainz55 You'll know

username whys neymar always liking the post i don't understand

⤷ username he can't moving on that fast with a girl like her

lilymhe oh pretty pretty girllll

⤷ username my my look at her down bad😏 alex_albon

⤷ alex_albon sure. 🙄

carlossainz55 added to their story!

caption: 😂😂😂

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, and 291,643 others

yourusername 💋

comments on this post has been disabled

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and 448,902 others

yourusername how is it now a year ago? carlossainz55

view all 3,528 comments...

landonorris my beloved tiny piper🥹🥹

⤷ yourusername seems like you miss piper more than me now🙄 i feel betrayed

username pre-her carlos is so different

lewishamilton happy for you guys!

username piper has chosen him first than she ever does

carlossainz55 One year with you, My 👸

⤷ username OMGGGGGGGG

⤷ username PLEASE I JUST WANT TO BE SINGLE IN PEACEEE

username i want what they have😮‍💨

username third slide carlos and piper is going to be my whole mood for 2024

username if they're broke up idk what to do

username PARENTS ON THEIR EARLY PARENTING ERA

username THAT CURUEUEUEHDHEJEJL (curl)

username one year indeed girlie, one year indeed.

username LAST YEAR THAT WE CARLOS AND Y/N STAN CHEERED ‼️‼️🔥🗣️

username thank y/n for giving us crumbs of this 2023 pre-season carlos

username i can't wait for roscoelovescoco collab

roscoelovescoco arf?

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

landonorris added photo to their story!

caption: morning ruined

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, charlottesiine, and 389,526 others

carlossainz55 🤩

view all 2,478 comments...

yourusername creep

⤷ carlossainz55 I'm the creep that you loved

landonorris ew stop doing this on the comments section😒

⤷ username lando is definitely their hater 100 percent

⤷ username he is so real

username carlos's photography skills for y/n: 💯💯😍🤩 ,meanwhile his skills for charles: 🥸👎😵🫨

⤷ charles_leclerc real 😔

username not enough of their recent beach kisses, now carlos just posted this on main is making my heart goes bang

username i want to be her but i know i can't😮‍💨

username i see why is he wants to be w her bc look

username thank god we're free from their baby fever period

⤷ alex_albon it was a dark times for all of us...

⤷ landonorris #real

yourusername added photo to their story!

caption: afternoon stroll<3

carlossainz55

liked by lilymhe, lilyzneimer, yourusername and 822,709 others

carlossainz55 She's prepared for her jpg account landonorris

view all 6,798 comments...

landonorris gosh, i'm such a trendsetter😁

⤷ danielricciardo seems like it...

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yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, arianagrande, and 494,210 others

yourusername take me back to summer

view all 1,109 comments...

francisca.cgomes show that off!! 💃

⤷ yourusername you know i hit the gym everyday ever since😁

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⤷ yourusername tell charles we're engaged now

username y/n flirting with wags is what exactly i expected today

⤷ username kika is down BAD for her

⤷ pierregasly i'll hold her then

⤷ username HAHAHAH PIERRE WHAAT

username definitely captured by mr one and only sainz

⤷ username he's a professional photographer

yourusername added photo to their story!

caption: scrap from my camera and definitely from carlossainz55

carlossainz55 added photo to their story!

caption: Isn't she lovely?

#✶!#carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #bruna marquezine

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historiaxvanserra · 3 months

Text

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of | Chapter 3

Pairing: SingleDad!Rhys x Reader

Summary: A few weeks since making your bargain with the High Lord and he seems to be slipping into a deep sadness and his absence is keenly felt. Nyx has a fever and Rhysand is nowhere to be seen.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: allusions to sexual assault, allusions to depression, abandonment, broken homes (y'know keeping it light, in all seriousness this is not all angst it's quite sweet actually).

Dreaming comes as easy as breathing there in the darkness of the High Lords townhouse. Hewn City is a dark metropolis; all shadowed emerald light and a cruel chill that seeps into the empty parts of you. You dream shapeless dreams, all plumes of jade light and the cruel laugh of your father as he utters your name like a curse.

A pitiful cry cuts through the echoing antechamber of The Moonstone Palace. A much too tangible thing to be the shadow of a long repressed memory. Another sob bleeds into a wail and your body comes back to consciousness with all the force of a raging tempest.

Nyx.

Instincts you thought had died under that mountain seem to rouse you from your state of misty wakefulness. The dream slips away from you once more and in its place, sunlight -- radiant and topaz as it ribbons into your room -- and shaded by the canopy of cypress trees that flutters against your window in the balmy summer breeze.

The air in the nursery smells like moondust and lavender as you enter and the room is shaded in shadows, a darkness so deep that it arches on oppressive and the heat almost feverish. You can vaguely make out the figure of Nyx in his cradle and as you cross the threshold into the nursery his wails seem to dissolve into mournful little sobs that seem to you almost as rehearsed as his fathers arrogant front that he wears so well. Beneath it all there is a fragility there, in the truth that lies in the darks of the High Lords eyes. The same is true of his son as he casts his deep sapphire eyes, brimming with silver tears, towards you in a plea for comfort.

“Good morning, little bat,” You whisper gently at the infant, languidly stroking the dark onyx curls away from his face and catching his errant tears with the pad of your thumb. Even in the darkness of the nursery you see the deep crimson that colors his chubby cheeks and the bridge of his nose and you can feel the heat coming off him in cruel plumes as he continues to let out broken little sobs. It is almost painful to watch him in his pitiful mood with his ruddy cheeks and dark eyes.

“Oh my darling! are you unwell?” Nyx only sniffles in response, as his chubby fist finds purchase on the neckline of your nightdress and drawing you closer to him. Taking him into your arms you move towards the windows. The wave of fresh citrusy air is a welcome break in the feverish heat of the nursery and the celestial topaz light reveals Nyx to you more clearly. His hair is the same shade of blue-black as his fathers, and his eyes are a deep, captivating sapphire that shine with the same mirth you’d seen in Rhysands violet eyes. The tips of his pointed ears and nose are flushed a deep scarlet and the hue of his golden skin seems almost pallid in the morning light. Pressing a kiss to his forehead has him burrowing further into your chest seeking comfort and giving you a sleep addled, gummy smile as his broken sobs dissolve into deep and chesty snores as you descend into the lower levels of the house in search of his father.

“Let’s go find your daddy, shall we?” you murmur against Nyx’s messy curls.

The house seems to be steeped in a solemn silence as you reach the foyer and round the corner into the large sitting room. There’s a chill in the stagnant air and the room, usually stained in Rhys's distinct scent, is eerily devoid of his presence. It’s been the same for the last few weeks. At first Rhys had been a constant, if not outrageously over protective, presence in the townhouse but as the weeks wear on its as though he is surrendering himself to the darkness that seems to attend him these days. Allowing himself to sink into the vast and starless abyss where no light can reach him. The High Lord you knew in those first weeks seems like a distant memory now; now, he walks these halls like a half-formed ghost in the night, and by morning he is gone. Leaving only the smell of jasmine and mandarin in his wake. Rhysand no longer seems to find no joy in his family, or the son that is a constant reminder of his lost love, and you, once an easy distraction, has become another burden that he avoids like the plague. It wouldn’t be so bad, you think, should he find it in himself to visit his son for more than the mere minutes before he finds rest in the evening. But these days he works too much and drinks more still. So much so that the air in the townhouse around his private rooms has begun to smell more of the woody whiskey that he drinks than his own unique blend of jasmine and citrus that intoxicates you night and day.

What’s worse still is that when you do see him it is when the house is cloaked in shadow and you seek him out only for him to bury himself under a pile of papers and false compliments as though you and he aren’t one and the same. As though you don’t see his vain attempt at wearing arrogance like some sort of beautiful armor.

When you look at him now all the light has gone from his violet eyes and he looks like the errant memory of the Male who had been your dark winged savior in Hewn City. His hair is longer and the ends curl away from his pointed ears in haphazard waves and the scruff around his jaw has mutated into an unkempt beard that ages him.

He looks so much like his father, you think. A thought you’re certain the High Lord wouldn’t care to hear.

“Rhys?” You call out, though the resounding echo is answer enough. As is in response Nyx seems to huff a frustrated sigh as his dark lashes flutter open in the harsh jade light of the living room. The babes wings twitch and spasm as he becomes fully lucid in your arms and he wriggles defiantly against his swaddling.

“I suppose it’s just you and me today, little bat,” again, you think, though Nyx only offers you a high-pitched giggle as he points towards the kitchen where he has learned his breakfast waits.

“Let’s get you something to eat, yes?” You say animatedly, taking one of his curled up fists and placing it to your lips and peppering gentle kisses on his soft skin. He smells like lavender soap and moondust but his usual calm scent is tainted with something almost medicinal that speaks to the extent of his illness. Though it has done little to dampen his spirit you think as he finally breaks loose of the satin blanket you had wrapped him in before leaving the nursery.

“And then maybe we can go into town and get some herbs for that fever, hm?” Though Nyx is much too young to make sense of your words he seems invested enough to mimic the nodding motion you make at him as you place him in the high chair while you move to prepare a selection of mashed fruit that he tastes eagerly.

When Nyx is finished his breakfast he manages to stay lucid enough for you to get him changed into some little blue overalls with silver embroidered crescent moons along the arm straps and leg cuffs. But just as you’re securing him into the navy sling he seems to drift off into a serene dreamstate with the rhythm of your heartbeat, a strong and steady lullaby as you stroll through the streets of Velaris.

By the time you and Nyx reach the main square the sun is at its peak in the sky and the world seems painted in the leonine hues of summer in the mountains. Nyx takes it all in with a sense of awe and excitement. The air is crisp and fresh and the smells of the sweet tarts and jams from the bakeries on Crescent Street are undercut by the salty smell of the Sidra as the wind blows westward. The row houses are hung with ivy and honeysuckle and the patrons of the boutiques and antique bookshops on the main square all seem as though they live in a perpetual state of bliss. Velaris truly is a wonder you think as you approach the yawning sage coloured door of Madja’s apothecary.

“Here we are Nyxie!” You smile brightly at the babe as he squeals and your take his hand in yours and point him towards the sign hung above the apothecary door. The sign is painted gold on a black wooden board that simply reads The Apothecary at Orion Street.

The door is ornately crafted; painted a muted sage and the glass panes are inlaid with beautiful colors making up the components of an emerald bottle, the likes of which line the shelves and window displays, each labeled in elaborate cursive. A small bell rings melodiously to alert Madja of your presence and as the door closes behind you the smell of wyrmwood and heather is thick in the air. The walls are all painted a deep bottle green and the shelves are stacked with ancient bound books and various concoctions in dark jars and bouquets of dried herbs hang from the high ceiling above the counter. In the dim lights its hard to make out Madja’s hunched figure through the plumes of thick smoke coming from the back of the store.

“Madja?” You call into the darkened store, stepping further into the apothecary, “Madja? Hello? Anyone back there?”

“Just a second, my dear,” A loud screeching sends you backwards, a cautious hand cradling the baby content in his sling, and from the back room an old woman appears clutching various glass vials and instruments.

Madja stops abruptly and places the contents in her arms down on the counter when she takes in the sight of you; dressed in a simple dress with the heir of The Night Court wrapped around you chest. Her brows draw together and the lines around her mouth deepen as she regards you both with narrow eyes.

“Is everything alright, girl?” She asks with the faintest hint of alarm, her dull eyes trailing over both you and Nyx as if looking for some injury or illness. “The High Lord is well?”

“It’s Nyx, he has a small fever, is all.” You offer her and her face seems to soften then and she hums lightly retreating into the darkness of the back room again. The sound of her puttering around the small workroom rings sharply through the shop floor as she collects a few glass bottles and salves.

“I thought you’d be able to give him a tonic of some sort for the fever?” You raise your voice above the clatter of glass and utensils until she reamergs from the darkness. When the older woman comes back into view she's got a selection of salves and balms and three bottles of tonic, each filled with a different color liquid. She sets it down on the table and advances towards you with surprising candor and inspects the babe closely, pressing a weathered hand to his cheeks and forehead and inspecting his mouth as he offers her a gummy smile and idle babble.

In those quiet moments while she is checking the babe over you allow your mind to wander. It does not wander far, flicking to images of the High Lord hunched over his desk and his eyes ringed purple in the silvery lamp light.

“A small fever,” Madja’s voice is rich and deep as she hums to herself in acknowledgement, patting the babe fondly on his haphazard curls before collecting a small cloth bag and placing a few salves and bottles inside, “the balm is for his gums and the tonic should break the fever.”

The old woman nods towards the infant as she hands the bag off to you, “he’ll be okay though?” your voice is apprehensive and you realize then the anxiety clawing its way up your throat at the thought of the babe in your arms coming to harm.

“Yes, he will,” Madja says with a deep sigh, running a hand over her brow “Now is there anything else I can help you with?” You decline and begin to collect the bag heavy with various salves and tonics and turn on your heel to the street when a thought occurs to you.

“You wouldn’t have any sleeping tonics would you?” The clinking of glass is answer enough and Madja adds them to the cloth bag with a questioning look in her dark eyes.

“For the High Lord, he’s been kept very busy as of late.” Madja smiles knowingly and pats you on the shoulder and ushers you to the door, the bell chiming as you cross the threshold into the street. Turning once more back to the apothecary, Madja offers you a wave and shouts out “Tell Rhysand he is under strict instructions to get a good night’s sleep…and a shave!”

Madja’s laugh is sweet and rich on the midday breeze and you wave her a final farewell before slipping down the avenue that leads you straight back to the Townhouse.

___________________________________________________________________________

By the time the sun sets over Velaris, Nyx had already had two doses of his tonic. His fever broke sometime after his evening meal and relief floods your heart when you notice the change in his color during bathtime. The babe is lathered in bubbles from his lavender soap and he’s giggling happily and babbling to his rubber bat toys as you run a washcloth over his cherub cheeks that are stained with the delicious remnants of the cherry pastries you had bought from a bakery on the way home. It’s then you notice that the blush tinting his cheeks is a light coral instead of the deep scarlet that had graced his sweet face earlier that morning.

Nyx splashes giddily as you tap his nose and laugh animatedly at him, “Someone’s feeling better! Aren't you, little bat?”

“I heard he gave you quite the scare this morning,” It’s Rhysand’s voice, a low velvet tenor that sounds so beautiful as it hits your ears.

He’s learning against the frame of the bathroom door wearing his signature lazy smile though you can tell from the redness around his dark violet eyes that he hasn’t slept well. His hair is pushed back from his face though the longer strands frame his chiseled face quite beautifully, you must admit. Though the coarse hair that has grown in around his jawline does nothing for the delicate slope of his nose nor the sharp line of his jaw. He’s since shed his suit jacket and the sleeves of his shirt have been pushed up to the forearms and in this light you can make out the intricate swirls and patterns that make up the inky lines marked into his tan skin.

“It was just a little fever, we went to see Madja,” You say softly sighing as you lift the babe from tub, “he was crying for you this afternoon.” The words come out much too clipped for you to play them off as jest.

When Nyx is swaddled in a plush ivory robe he squeaks in delight at the sight of his father, his babbles devolving into calls of ‘dada’ and ‘dad’ until Rhys takes him in his arms pressing light kisses along the curve of his sons pointed ears and clammy forehead.

Rhysand sighs deeply, inhaling the scent of his son’s lavender soap. Nyx’s curled fists tug happily at Rhys as he carries him from the washroom and into the nursery. The High Lord makes quick work of changing the babe into a dark purple sleepsuit and you catch him checking over him guiltily-- running a thumb over his tear-tracked cheeks and murmuring a muted I’m sorry into his sons onyx hair.

“I’m sorry, Love,” Rhys says quietly as he tucks Nyx into his crib, his voice is hardly more than a whisper and you try to focus on the way his broad hand rubs sleepy circles onto Nyx’s back as he slips easily into a state of dreaming.

The babe is an oddly sound sleeper.

“Sorry that I haven’t been here, it’s just--” Nyx stirs a little as Rhys leads you out into the hallway, “It’s been a rough few weeks.” He huffs another tired sigh and leads you down into the living room.

The emerald light casts the room in a jade glow that reminds you of Hewn City so much that it makes your skin crawl. Rhys finds his place by the fire in the armchair he had claimed that first night he brought you here. This time you don’t wait to be seated and instead take the armchair directly opposite him.

“You don’t have to explain to me, Rhys,” You whisper softly, a hand reaching out to take his in a gesture of friendship and comfort. He takes it without hesitation, with reckless abandon that speaks to how truly vulnerable he is here in this room. Laid bare to you after so many weeks of false pretenses and shameless flirting, “but he cried for you today and you didn’t come.”

The pain that flashes in those violet eyes manifests into a physical ache in his heart, a hurt so deep that you feel it too, somewhere in the cavern of your heaving chest.

His pain is yours. As though you are made of the same darkness. Born from the same star.

“You need to come when he calls.” You stand to your full height and Rhys makes no effort to follow, only sinks deeper into the armchair, his body flirting with sleep. From your pocket your slide a small vial of purple liquid across the end table towards him.

“To help you sleep,” His frown deepens and his brows knit together with a wary concern, “I got it from Madja.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” Rhys eyes it suspiciously and through dark, thick lashes regards you with narrow eyes, “I need…I need a drink.” His hand stretches towards the empty whiskey glass on the dark mahogany end table. His broad fingers flex lightly around the glass in his hand and before he can reach for the decanter of amber liquid your hand closes around his with a fond pressure as your eyes plead with his.

“Doctor’s orders, I’m afraid,” You say lightly, feinging an air of regret in your words as you slide the purple vial closer still, “A good night’s sleep tonight.”

“And in the morning?”

“A shave.” Rhysand’s resounding groan echoes around the dark halls of the townhouse. The sound, like velvet night, becomes the soothing lullaby that sends you into a dreamless sleep.

A thing of lovely beauty.

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