#sometimes of home renovations
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when i go through someone’s flickr, i always start with the earliest photos and then move forward. sometimes i’ll come across a person that heavily documents everything, so i’ll just be scrolling through their life in chronological order. it’s really fascinating and gives me lots of different feelings.
#personal#i hope that’s not considered creepy#like i said it’s just so fascinating!!#i see a lot of people that start dating and get married#some of them have kids#some of them travel#i see a lot of progress pictures#sometimes of home renovations#gardens#families#a new business#art projects#camera quality would get better for some over time#some people would use the same camera for years#you can almost always tell when instagram got popular bc a lot of people would crosspost from there with those damn filters#anyway#i’m rambliiiiinnnnnggg#(i’m high)
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I'm alive!!!!
#sometimes I just do other internet things instead of tumblr haha#but I am good!!#it's been busy#also I had my birthday#I am now in EARLY FORTIES#next year it will be MID#what is life#it's just weird how time works#and how you have to spend so much of your life being really bad at it!!!!#it would be nice if we could live longer just so you could have more time to benefit from life lessons you've learned#although probably we would just find new and more inventive ways of screwing things up#as you do#I'm still really addicted to Stardew Valley#it's never lasted this long so I'm not sure if I should be concerned#but I have also been doing a lot of reading#work has slowed down so that's good#also I have been weirdly into watching professional football this fall#not a specific team#just kind of overall#like I have a handful of teams whose fates mildly interest me#I think it's because there is this guy on YouTube who is doing a series called If the NFL Was Scripted#and I am just amazed at how he has created an entire lore#based around events that he actually can't predict or plan#ANYWHO#today I have sooooo much painting to do!!#it's ridiculous#I thought I was past this part of home renovation#but here we are#it's sucky painting too#lots and lots of trim
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Gentle reminder that I’m very slow and inconsistent both ic and ooc, and that the speed of my replies ≠ my interest in them.
#i work part-time i'm the primary caregiver of twins i do all the housework all the cooking all the gardening#i'm in the middle of some hefty home renovations i have a dog i have depression and very likely undiagnosed and untreated adhd#mental load is real and it's insidious#( i'm actually this 🤏 close to quitting my job because i can't Do It All )#all this is to say sometimes i'm here sometimes i'm not#sometimes I focus on ic stuff sometimes ooc convos#very often i'm just here to like posts / leave comments / reblog aesthetic stuff#this is stated in my rules and if it's something that makes me and my blog incompatible with you that's absolutely fine!#no hard feelings#some folks need consistent momentum but i can't offer that#i owe in 67 threads right now and i have 170 asks in my inbox#i'm trying to streamline things and choose a handful of threads to focus on but the fact remains i have more to do than time to do it#anyway! 99% of people understand my situation and i'm so grateful for your patience and understanding ♡#if we're mutuals please know i like what you're doing and i'm interested in writing with you#◈ — ooc; puffin speaks
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every time i try to make me and eren on the sims i spend hours and hours in cas trying to make us (him) and then am unable to play because he just Doesn’t Look Right and it drives me nuts
#sometimes i get to decorating our house/apartment but then i stare at him for too long and go No. no wrong#so much cc. so many hours. for nothing#i just want to play us living in the city going to college and then graduating and moving into a victorian home that we slightly renovate#before getting married and having a gaggle of children :(#also i make jsc trio and armin and mikasa. they also never look right. ever#ʚїɞ ~ diary
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Yandere Hybrid Town (1) | Only Human
In a world filled with humans and hybrids attempting to find balance with one another, you are but a simple human trying to integrate into the town on the property your late grandparent bequeathed to you. The town just so happens to have a small population of farming hybrids, with hardly any other humans around.
“So you’re the inheritor…(Y/n)? (L/n)?”
“Yes, I have my I.D. if you want to check.”
“..Right….but the owner of the original property was a hybrid…you are not.”
“Not that it matters. But my grandfather’s partner was a Wolf hybrid…They both agreed to give it to me when they both passed.”
“I..see.”
It might be right to call it racism or maybe more accurately it’s specism and the townsfolk aren’t all that keen on hiding it. They openly sneer at you when you do come to town, whispering loudly about what they’ve heard, and rolling their eyes if you have the gall to ask them a question.
“Can I get these bags of mulch in bulk?”
“...so what are ya talkin’ to me for? Just grab ‘em.”
“Your sign says to ‘ask for more at the front desk.’”
“...Fine dirt monkey. How much?”
It doesn’t bother you…sometimes. You mostly spend your days on your property, having picnics in the open fields you now own. Spending time renovating your cottage with all the custom plumbing and electricity you learn to install yourself. Wouldn’t want some unfriendly technician in town doing it instead. Anyways you get into the routine of sustaining yourself in your lonesome working from home and relying on your savings to help you enjoy your new life. That doesn’t stop until the one fateful day…you’re lounging on your deck when you hear something faint. It sounds like crying.
“Waaaaa!”
It sounds like a child…which isn’t unfamiliar, after all your neighbors do seem to be a little family. Of course, they don’t want to talk to you but that’s fine.
“Waaaa!”
It sounds pretty intense but you’re sure it’ll stop soon.
“Waaaaa! Somebody help, please!”
Now it feels wrong to ignore it any longer. You quickly fix yourself to head over, driving the tractor that you ride across your property to the fence that represents the beginning of your neighbor’s property. It was short work to hop over the fence and hear the crying persisting. Running to the back porch of the house, you see a little dog boy crying his heart out.
“I heard you crying what’s wrong?”
The kid starts blubbering wiping at tears and snot on his face. After some calming pats between the ears and some promises to help you can get a clear picture.
“Mama fell ‘ver and she won’t wake up!”
You run inside to find exactly that. A dog woman face down on the floor while the soup on the stove boils out and whatever’s in the oven beginning to smoke. Stopping the appliances you flip over the woman in search of a heartbeat and breathing. Thankfully you find it and ask the little boy where you can lay her down. He points you to the bedroom down the hall passing by another bedroom and a bathroom.
Once you’ve laid her down, check her temperature, and decide in your not-so-expert opinion that she’s suffering from a fever. Assuring the little dog boy you have him help you carry some cold water and a rag to place on her head. While making sure she drinks some water, you finally get to talking to the little dog boy who’s started to calm down now.
“That was real brave of you, good job for asking for help.”
“Big brother always said I gotta since I’m too tiny to do much myself.”
“Well, I thought you were very helpful and you don’t seem that tiny to me.”
“Thanks!”
“No problem! My name’s (Y/n).”
“And my name’s Titan! By the way (Y/n) I’m real hungry!”
That’s how you ended up cleaning the dishes, Titan’s mother started and using what you could to make something new. You stuck with one of your old family recipes, relying on your memory the best you could to avoid another charred disaster. Eventually, you finish up able to set a plate in front of Titan who is more than happy to dig in.
“More! More!”
“Okay Titan just a little bit more but you can’t eat it all we’ve got to save some.”
“Whyyyy!?”
“Because your mom hasn’t eaten yet and I’m sure your brother will want some when he gets home–”
“But he’s never aroun’ we’ll be waiting forever for him to come!”
Creak.
“Titan who is this?”
The new voice comes from a much larger dog man with a sturdy build, sun-kissed skin, and overalls barely hanging off his shoulders. His ears are narrowed back and his shoulders are hunched as he easily towers over you. With Titan’s help, you explain how you came to help and that his mother had fainted, likely from the fever she had. When you show him to her, his bared teeth and impending growl quiet down. Fussing over her as he checks for any sign that you might be lying. Finding that you’re not, he skeptically accepts the meal you made as you alternate watching over her and entertaining Titan–who’s far too chipper for a pup ready for bed.
“Hey uh, wanted to apolog’ze for earlier”
“For what?!”
“Fer how I acted when you’re just helpin’ out.”
“Oh, it’s okay! I’m just happy no one’s hurt.”
“I’m also sorry for misjudging you. I think I had the wrong impression bout ya.”
As you continue to chat with the young dog man–Tank you both work together to finish up whatever chores his mom would usually do. Between you both Titan is convinced to finally get some sleep if it’s in your lap close to his mom. Tank suggests you stay over bashfully offering his bed if you need it. You decline, encouraging him to get some much-needed rest considering he was working on the farm tomorrow.
“A-a-are you sure you don’t want to stay in a bed? I feel like it’s the least we could do.”
“No worries Tank, I’m going to watch over your mom until this fever breaks. Besides I don’t have the heart to move Titan now.”
“Fair I guess. Hopefully, I’ll see ya tomorrow?”
“Yeah if I’m not still here in the morning you can come to my place anytime.”
His fluffy tail wags a lot harder than he likes at that.
“R-really?”
“Yeah, anytime!”
With another ‘thank you’ he’s off to bed. It isn’t until sunrise that the fever breaks and the dog-hybrid mother is coming to. Assuring her that her boys and the food she left in the oven are not burning the house she calms down to thank you.
“Oh thank you thank you I don’t know what I would have done without you!”
Where you’ll have to fight her off from her barrage of kisses, hugs, and propositions to stay long enough for her to cook something for you to take home, as much as you wanted to stay and indulge in her acts of thanks, you missed your bed and it was plenty exhausting now that you were being spoken to positively. Convincing her that you were such a short drive away that she didn’t need to keep you too much longer and after promising that she and her boys were welcome anytime you could finally go home.
“You promise?”
“Yes, Miss Tiffany I promise, anytime you’d like.”
“Just not now?”
“Yes, not now so please get some rest!”
Back in the comfort of your home, everything is more or less the same except for the recently obsessed friendly neighbors who make all the quiet time you used to have nonexistent.
“Wake Up! Wake Up! Let’s play!”
“Egh Titan how did you get in here?”
“Through your doggy door!”
“But I don’t have one!”
“Now you do!”
Thus begins the first few to fall for the lone human in this hybrid town. Hardly shy about their newly discovered attraction as they fill their dull hours up with time next to you. Lucky them as your neighbors they’re the only ones privy to your addictive affection and comforting scent.
“Oh! I was about to drive over to drop off Titan!”
“What a coincidence! We were just coming over to have dinner at yours!”
“Huh?”
“Well, you did say we can come and thank you anytime!”
“So we figured why not now!”
“In fact, maybe every week we come over to yours and you come over to ours!”
“I mean I guess-?”
“Wonderful Titan, Tank clear the kitchen I’m going to make this dinner the best yet!”
“Yes’m!” “Yes’m
The Dog hybrid family next door is all too eager to take up all of your time. Since the moment you moved in they’ve been eager to truly get to know you, woefully settling with the distant wafts of your scent during a favorable breeze. Unlike others in the town their curiosity for the human was a positive one blaming it on their all too friendly instincts they couldn’t deny the urge they got to close to the distance between you two. But alas everyone in the town was so averse to the idea they were pushed off the desire for far too long but after your sweet words and intentions, they’d be foolish not to return the affection.
“(Y/n) if you’d like me to cut the grass, I don’t mind.”
“That’s really sweet, Tank but I told myself I wouldn’t allow myself to sit back and let others do all the work.”
His tail droops at that. “Ah I see.”
“But you won’t tell me to go away will you (Y/n)? After I made that doggy door and everything.”
“You just chewed a hole in my door and I’m not saying you can’t stop by Tank I just don’t want it to be because you’re doing more work.”
His tail is wagging a mile a minute again. “I don’t mind if it’s for you!”
With your canine hybrid neighbors so close it’s hard to forget you were ever left alone. Now quiet and sometimes confrontational trips are filled with at least one member of the family accompanying you. Willing to bargain at stores for you or impressively growl when the cashier’s being a tad too snippy. It does make you nervous when the tiny Titan politely asks the nosy bird-woman who had the nerve to whisper about you to a ‘nice chat’ in the alley between the store. Returning with tufts of feathers and blood in his baby teeth. Or how Mama Tiff will oh so politely mention her bloodhound heritage at the fox bullies that hang around your car. Or when Tank all too eagerly pulls you into his side when he finds you cornered by the snake librarian.
“Back off my human!”
After any confrontation, you’ll ask your questions. Head on or round about they’ll all only smile at you, tail wagging wildly behind them. As if they’re proud of the slight fear in your eyes when you ask what that was about.
“We just want to protect you! You are only human after all!”
Part 2: It's Here!
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere harem#yandere hybrids x reader#yandere hybrid#yandere hybrid x reader#yandere dog hybrid#yandere dog hybrids#yandere hybrid town#yandere hybrid town x reader#yandere monstober#yandere monsters#yandere monster x reader#yandere monster
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i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.
Katsuki, Tomura, Hawks, Deku, Shoto, Dabi
TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?
gn reader
Shigaraki Tomura Ghost
You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.
It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.
You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.
Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.
Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.
Bakugou Katsuki Demonic spirit
He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.
He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep.
He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.
Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.
You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.
You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.
Keigo Takami - Hawks Guardian Angel
Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.
You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.
He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.
And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.
He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.
Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.
Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.
Midoriya Izuku - Deku Hybrid between fae and troll
He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating.
Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.
Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over.
He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.
Todoroki Shoto Vampire
It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.
Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.
You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.
He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.
He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.
Todoroki Touya - Dabi Hyrbid between incubi and vampire
He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more.
Until you.
You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.
His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.
He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.
♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist
#yandere#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere mha#yandere my hero academia#yandere bnha#yandere bakugo#yandere bakugou#yandere bakugo katsuki#yandere katsuki#yandere katsuki bakugou#yandere dabi#yandere touya#yandere todoroki#yandere tomura#yandere midoriya#yandere izuku#yandere keigo#yandere hawks#yandere headcanons#yandere hitoshi#yandere hitoshi shinso#yandere shinsou#yandere shoto#yandere shigaraki#yandere shinso hitoshi#yandere shouto#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere tomura shigaraki
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bear den (2)
bear!john price
cw: hybrid au, bear!price, bunny!reader, pregnancy, smut/pwp, scenting, protective!price, couch sex, mating press, mentions of childbirth
part 1
as the snow melted off the roof, the promise of spring was upon you. price was as cuddly as ever. his large hand on your growing belly and his nose in the nape of your neck.
your bear lover, you'd consider him your husband without all the paperwork. he was a protective lover, he cared for you very deeply. even when he was half asleep as winter started to melt away.
it was morning in march when you got out of bed and scampered over to the shower. as much as you loved price, he was a messy lover. his cum was still stuck in your hair. he said it was in an effort to 'mark' you as if the growing cub wasn't enough proof.
you stood naked by the tub as you waited for the water to warm up. you caught a glimpse of your side profile in the mirror and looked at yourself curiously. it wasn't as if you had never seen yourself in the mirror before, but rather the changes to your body were already settling in. you straightened up a little and rubbed your slowly swelling middle.
your eyes cast down to your bump as you rubbed it gently. sometimes you couldn't believe that there was price's child inside of you. it made you smile to yourself before you got into the shower.
the warm water felt good against your body as you stood under the spray. despite how isolated the cabin was, it was home. price had completely renovated his den, everything still had a charm to it but nothing was falling apart.
you washed yourself, using his soap. you got under your pregnant belly and heard the door to the bathroom open. you peeked through the curtain and saw your mate. you smiled at him, "good morning, honey."
he nodded, he seemed a little more lucid, "let me help." he was naked already, you could see every inch of your lover. from the hair that coated him, to his built body with a bit of softness to it. his broad shoulders and scratchy facial hair.
"i can do it myself, john."
he shook his head as he got into the shower. he made a pleased noise when a bit of the warm water hit him. he stood under the spray of water with both hands on your belly from behind. "you look good." he said as his thumb rubbed the side.
"i'm only going to get more pregnant with time." you replied.
he kissed your wet hair and replied, "good." you felt his cock start to stiffen against your back. he took the bar of soap from you and started to wash your back. while he was cleaning the front of you (that you already cleaned) he got a good squeeze of your breasts.
"john!'
"sorry, love. can't help it." he purred. when he finished washing you, you washed him. you were turned to face him and his hands were on your bump as you ran the bar across his hairy chest.
you loved his body as much as he loved yours. he was so strong but still able to cuddle him. the hair on his chest and stomach, across his arms and down his legs left you feeling tingly all over. this was your husband, your mate, your lover.
he leaned down do you could wash his hair. and he did the same for you, once you were done your shower and out of the tub. he pinned you against the sink counter. his nose dipped into your neck and rubbed his cheek against the skin.
"john!"
"gotta get my scent on you."
you held onto the sink behind you and replied, "you possessive old man."
he replied, "gotta be. little bunnies like you can get into a life of trouble." he kissed your neck all the way to your cheek before he settled on your lips. his calloused, workman's hands touched your torso.
you giggled into the kiss and when he pulled away he gave you a short nod before he dried the both of you off. now that you were clean, it was time to get dirty again.
usually your place for mating was in the bedroom, it reeked of hibernation scent and your love making. you knew it would take a lot of washing of the entire room before it scent wasn't so overwhelming. but instead he made love to you on the old couch in the living room.
you were seated on the soft cushions, price pulled you legs up and closer to your head, exposing your cunt to him. a perfect angle for him to sink his cock into. it was a little odd due to your pregnancy, but when price slipped in with ease. you felt the stars behind your eyes.
"that's it. that's my baby girl." his voice was low and his pace methodical. he knew how much stronger he was compared to you. bears and bunnies often didn't mingle, so john had to be gentle with you.
his bear ears gave a small twitch when he felt his cock throb inside of you. your pussy was a tight heat around him that made him so thankful that you snuck into his cabin. he gave you a home and he into turn made your pussy his home.
he admired your body, he watched those little bunny ears twitch. he smiled down at you, "like that? knowin' how deep i am inside of you. knowin' that i bred and kept ya? soon you'll be chasin' a cub around our little home."
you had your hands on your belly as he thrusted into you. you felt heat bloom in your chest. you admired your lover over you, you watched how his body moved and it made the pleasure seep into your blood.
"i love you."
"i love you too." he replied, his voice full of warmth as he held onto your legs for support. he squished you a little in the press he had you in, but it felt really good.
price loved having you in a good mating press. where he could put his weight onto you, show how strong he was as he bullied his cock into your pussy.
his breathing was heavy as he continued to thrust into you. you could see the rise and fall of his chest as he moved. the air of the living room grew warmer with your love making. you felt like you were on another planet, the pleasure throbbed in your head the more it built.
you held onto the couch under you and your eyes closed for a moment as you tried to catch you breath. the sounds of sex filled the entire cabin as a bunny and her mate made love on the threadbare couch.
this was their home, their slice of paradise. you reached for him and leaned up to kiss him. he met you half way with a curve of his back and pressed a searing kiss onto your lips. his kisses were promises, he would never turn his back on his mate.
you were bound together until the sun engulfed the earth. husband and wife, bear and bunny.
the ache in your pussy felt good, your head swam with pleasure. you held onto your lover as he kissed you deeply. heat set into your gut. your pussy so exposed to him. you gave yourself over to him, as his mate and let him breed you.
when he pulled away he said, "you're my good girl aren't ya." he kissed at your sweaty face, "my good wife. my good mate. the mother to my cubs. perfect woman." he beamed at you.
it didn't take long afterwards for the heat of orgasm to wash over you. you kicked out your little bunny legs and tensed up as you came around his cock. a noise left price's mouth as you clamped down on him. it was guttural, primal in a way. you dug your nails into his shoulders as you climaxed.
your head felt even more full as started to relax. but price kept you in position and continued to batter your pussy. the grip it had on you was amazing. it left him in a state of shock. with a few more heavy thrusts, he finished inside of you.
"ah fuck." he grumbled as his pace staggered and slowed down.
you laid there on the couch, your legs were soon back on the hardwood floor. price's cum leaked onto the fabric of the couch. but you were lost in your own wonderland to notice it.
price stared down at you, cock limp between his legs. his breathing was shallow as he tried to cool down. the bear picked up his bunny lover with ease, and placed kisses on your face. you fit so nicely in his strong arms as he carried you back to bed.
after all he needed to make sure that his scent was deep in your skin that no shower could ever get rid of it. he stuck his nose in your wet hair and inhaled deeply.
his mate. his lover. his everything.
-
on august tenth, in the comfort of your cabin. you gave birth to your first child. with a lot of support from your husband, you had your son, oliver. he had two round bear ears and the brown bear tail of his father. it took over ten hours to deliver him.
"i got ya love, keep at it." price assured you as your labour went well into the evening. but the end result was your son.
you spent all spring and summer pregnant with him. and now he was in your arms. you saw how price admired your body post-pregnancy. the softness of your bottom and post partum tummy. he also admired how you were so attentive to his son.
while he did most of the work around the garden and caught (full) animals for meals, your responsibility was to make sure that you healed from the nine months of pregnancy and caring for your newborn son.
while he tended to vegetable patch, he often got distracted by the sight of you in the reclining lawn chair with oliver close to your chest. the baby was wrapped in a thin blanket and pressed against your bare chest. you were still nude more days, but when you dressed it was mostly in price's clothes.
he watched as you gazed at your son. it was so motherly. it was endearing to price was getting a little harder in his coveralls. he had a family, he started on with the bunny who came into his home.
there was one thing he noticed post-pregnancy about you. it wasn't how hungry you were or how your body had changed. it was that his scent lingered, you no longer smelled like the intruder bunny who snuck into his cabin.
you smelt like him through and through.
#bunny writes#call of duty#reader insert#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty smut#call of duty x reader#price mw2#captain john price#john price#captain price#captain john price smut#john price x reader#john price cod#price smut#john price smut#captain price smut#call of duty hybrid au#cod hybrid au#hybrid au#bear price#bunny!reader
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roommates ; lando norris + part one
In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.
masterlist - playlist
lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!
“You’re kidding me.”
Max is standing in front of you, he can barely withhold his laugh. You can see the first signs of his laugh by the way his mouth corners are up. You’re not focused on your brother and his stupid laugh, you’re focused on his best friend. Lando Norris, who’s holding out his hand to you with a silver key in it. You can only hope that this is some sort of prank, but it doesn’t seem like it.
“No,” Max tells you, “We’re getting renovations and the backup apartment only has two bedrooms.”
“I can sleep on the couch?” You offer hopeless.
“Lando has a room for you,” your brother replies, “and he’s barely home, so what’s the big deal?”
“He’s Lando,” you sigh annoyed.
Lando has been silent before, but this time he speaks up as well. Almost annoyed he grunts, “He’s standing here. You should be grateful instead of acting like a -” “Lando,” Max is quick to interrupt him. Now that Lando thinks back about the words he was going to say, maybe it’s better that Max interrupted him. Calling you a brat who needs to get laid, by him, wouldn’t make him more popular by you. Oops.
“See,” you say with an annoyed look at Lando, “I’ll book a hotel because this is the worst idea ever.”
“You’re going to live in a hotel room in Monaco for a good month or two?” Max asks you surprised, “I’m not paying for that.”
“Babygirl,” Lando starts. You try to silence him with a angry glance, but it doesn’t work. Since the last couple weeks he keeps calling you babygirl, princess or some other terrible nickname. You can’t get him to stop. “I’ll behave,” Lando continues.
“See?” Max asks you with the same tone you used with him earlier.
“Until you beg me to misbeha-”
“Lando for fucks sake,” Max grunts while interrupting his friend again. “I told you it was a bad idea for you to be included in this conversation, you’re only making things worse.”
Lando finally gets the hint and walks away from the room, leaving Max and you alone to talk about all of this. When he’s standing in the hallway, he can’t help himself to stay close by the door. Maybe he can hear something of what you’re saying. In the mean time he looks at his phone, he notices multiple new messages on different platforms. When he opens a couple snaps he’s greeted with nudes from girls he barely recognizes, sometimes with the question when they will see him again. It annoys him. There aren’t many girls who understand that a one night stand is for only one night. He ignores the snaps.
“Max you can’t expect me to live with him,” you tell your brother angrily, “He’s a literal man whore. I will probably stay awake every night that he’s home because he always brings some girl with him.”
“I bet that if you ask him to be a bit more quiet, he’ll do so,” Max disagrees with you.
“Still,” you sigh, “We don’t like each other. Lando and I aren’t friends like the two of you. We’re always arguing.”
“Why don’t you like Lando?” Max asks you, “I mean, you’re often the one who starts with the arguments.”
“That’s now!” You quickly defend yourself, “Earlier it was always Lando who started things. Whenever you left he would always tease me with something.”
Max doesn’t reply this time. You continue to whine about living with Lando. “Can’t you live with Lando? I’m sure Kelly would like it if I’m taking your place.” This time Max chuckles, but he still shakes his head.
“I don’t have another solution then this,” Max tells you eventually. He doesn’t tell you that Lando begged him to let you stay at his place during the renovations. Max also doesn’t tell you that he probably can rent you another apartment for a while, or could have found a place for himself, Kelly, Penelope and you. Lando owns him a lot after this.
“Am I really going to live with Lando?”
“Just for a while,” Max replies with a small smile. It seems like you finally agreed.
Lando is smiling even more on the other side of the door. He’s glad that he’s standing here and hears this. His plan worked. At least, the first step of like a billion steps worked out for him. When he hands you his keys five minutes later, the smile is still plastered on his face.
+++
“We need some ground rules.”
Lando looks away from the street in front of him to throw a short look at you. The two of you are sitting in his car, much to your disliking. He waited at Max his place until you were done with packing so he could take you with him. While packing your stuff, you kept wondering why you decided to live with Max in Monaco, since it caused this drama.
“Ground rules babygirl?” Lando asks you. He tries to focus on the road again, but he feels distracted with you this close next to him.
“Rule one, no more calling me babygirl,” you mutter annoyed.
“Nope,” Lando is quick to answer.
Before you can say anything else, Lando speaks up again. “Let’s talk about your rules later, I’m trying to focus on driving.”
“Didn’t know that a formula one driver had trouble with normal car driving,” you mutter.
Lando laughs softly. You’re without a doubt the most annoying girl he knows, but he wants nothing more then to make you his annoying girl. That can’t be good. It really can’t be. You on the other hand aren’t laughing, you’re still annoyed by everything that happened and is going to happen. You try to distract yourself by wondering about Lando his apartment: how would it look? You expect it to be all manly. Probably no decor, only formula one stuff and more like that.
When Lando parks his car in an underground garage, he’s quick to tell you about how things work in the apartment complex. “If you want, you can park your car here as well,” he tells you after giving a whole explanation about getting in the garage after hours.
“I don’t have a car,” you tell Lando, “I always used one of Max’s.”
“Oh, you can use one of mine then if you need a car,” Lando simply states without even thinking about it. You don’t know what to say. When looking at the multiple cars that are parked on spots that match with Lando his apartment number, you can only wonder what they cost. He is really offering you to use his expensive cars whenever you like? “I’ll show you where the keys are later,” Lando continues, “you don’t have to ask if you want to use them.”
“You’re kidding right?” You ask surprised. Lando is already shocking you. Normally the two of you are always bickering, mostly because of you, so it doesn’t make any sense to you that he’s offering something big like this.
“No babygirl,” he replies, “you can use every one of them.”
“Even your McLaren?” You ask while looking at the special McLaren that Lando owns.
“Even the McLaren.”
You can’t stop yourself and grin. This is a nice thing. Max is always really protective over his cars, certainly the ones who mean a bit more to him or were more expensive. Lando doesn’t seem to care as much. You already can’t wait to try his cars.
Together with Lando you use the elevator to get to his floor. You’re getting more curious about Lando his apartment. Lando on the other hand is thinking about something else. He wonders about how you will be in his apartment. Since Max told him about those renovations, he couldn’t help himself and kept imagining living together with you. Seeing it as his big chance to finally show you that he’s not some little boy anymore and maybe to connect a bit more with you. He hopes that he finally can make sure that you get to know the real him. But he doesn’t have a plan for that yet.
When Lando opens the door and drags your suitcase inside with him, you feel the reality of the situations washing over you. This is it. You’re really living with Lando for now. It feels weird. Lando and you have a complicated past. It’s not as bad as it was before, but you do have a strong opinion about him. And it’s not a positive one.
You remember all those discussions between Lando and you. The times he teased you until you exploded at him. Or the times you started it and made him crazy. Before it could be simple, but when Lando started his ‘fuck boy era’ - at least, that’s how you call it, you’re even more annoyed by him. Every time he comes over he seems to have some sort of story about a random girl who landed in his bed. It annoys you.
“So, what do you think?” Lando pulls you out of your thoughts. Slowly you walk inside his apartment. It’s big. Even bigger then you already expected. About the other things you were kinda right. The interior is nice, but it seems basic. He probably called a specialist once, who made sure he has a nice interior. It’s not bad, but it’s not personal. You miss the simple personal touches. It feels a bit stoic.
“Looks good,” you tell Lando.
“And now your honest opinion?” Lando sees right through you.
“It’s nice,” you say before being honest, “but I miss the personal touches.”
Lando smirks. “Maybe you can take care of that one day,” he jokes. Or better said, he says it like it’s a joke but he would love it if you would actually make his apartment more homey. But you can start with being here.
“Let me show you the rest,” Lando tells you. He grabs your arm and takes you with him. You’re surprised by the way he searches physical contact with you. Even more surprised with the way it feels. Lando shows you the apartment. You’re quick to find out which room has a few personal touches, his game room. If you should call it that at least. Multiple helmets and trophies are standing in shelves leaning on the walls.
Lando doesn’t give you a lot of time to look around at his personal belongings. The same thing happens with his own bedroom. You can barely see his bed and then he closes the door again. He takes you with you to the bathroom, before finally showing you the guest bedroom.
“Think this is okay?” He asks you a bit nervous. You don’t notice the nervous tone in his voice. Slowly you look around in the guest room. It seems nice. There’s plenty room for all your stuff and the bed seems pretty comfortable. You even spot some fresh flowers on the bedside table. Did Lando get those? You can’t imagine it, it must be the doing of his cleaner or something.
Lando sees the way you look at the fresh flowers. He wonders what you’re thinking right now. You probably don’t think that he has bought them himself. He knew beforehand that if you would move in with him, that it would happen today. So earlier this morning he went to the flower shop to get some fresh flowers for your room. Hoping it would make you feel a bit more at home. He doesn’t tell you that he bought them. You probably won’t believe him anyway.
“Yeah,” you reply to Lando earlier question, “this is fine.”
“I hope you don’t snore,” Lando jokes, “the walls are thin.”
“Then I hope you don’t take a girl with you every night,” you throw back.
“Jealous?” Lando questions you with a raised eyebrow.
“All though, I don’t think I’ll hear the girl much,” you continue, “You’re probably more concerned about your own pleasure.”
“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Just wait until you find out how concerned I am about your pleasure.”
You try to withhold any sort of reaction to be shown. Inside you’re going crazy. Lando always makes remarks that are a bit on the bold side, but he never made them this sexual. Fuck. You can’t think about stuff like this.
“That brings me back to my earlier statement, we need some rules,” you tell Lando.
“I need rules in my own home?” He asks you surprised. Of course he knew this was coming, but after your remarks Lando isn’t making this easy for you.
“Yes,” you sigh, “because otherwise we’re going to fight every day.”
“Maybe I like that,” Lando continues to annoy you.
You let out a sigh. Lando lets out a soft chuckle. It’s so easy to tease you. He knows he should stop, but you know what they say, right? Boys always tease the girls they like the most. He walks back to the living room with you and offers you something to drink before getting on the couch next to you.
“What rules do you suggest, babygirl?” He then asks you.
“One, no more calling me babygirl,” you tell him just as you did earlier today.
“Nope,” Lando states, it’s the same answer he gave you the first time. You don’t react to his no, you continue with the rest of your rules.
“Rule number two, I don’t want to meet every other girl you bring here,” you say.
“Afraid you’d get jealous?” Lando asks you teasingly. He can only hope that it’s like that, but he knows better. You’re not jealous of those girls. He understands this rule, it would be a mess if he needed to explain to every girl why you’re living with him and that you’re not his girlfriend. Plus, maybe he should stop bringing this many girls to his apartment. His phone is blowing up by the ones who he gave his number, a lot of them expect something more - while he made clear it would be a one time thing. And maybe, really maybe, it’s not fair for those girls that he uses them to forget about you for a bit.
Some stupid plan that doesn’t even work anyways. Every time a girl is laying underneath him, he can only imagine that it’s you. He wonders how it would feel when it was actually you. How you would sound. There have been many girls, but he thinks about the same girl every time. You.
“That’s okay,” Lando responds to your rule, “I’ll try.”
You nod satisfied. “And maybe you can also tone it down a bit with the sexual remarks towards me?” You ask him after your succes.
“No, no,” Lando quickly replies, “I want to say to you what I think.”
You roll your eyes, but don’t say anything else on the subject. “How do you want to do this Lando?” You ask him eventually. “Do you want to live together or next to each other? Want to have dinner together or? I really don’t know how this can work.”
“Let’s try to live together,” Lando tells you hopefully, “We can have dinner together and inform each other a bit about when we’re home or not.”
“Sure?” You ask surprised. You expected him to chose the other option.
“Sure babygirl.”
+++
That evening the two of you decided that Lando could have a cheat day with his healthy diet. Together you ordered some take out.
“Remember when you DM’ed this girl to get McDonalds with you,” you tease when Lando offers to order some McDonalds. He sends you an angry glare. “She didn’t seem to interested,” you continue to tease.
“Are you going to eat McDonalds with me or not?” Lando asks you annoyed, “because otherwise I’ll find a girl who will.”
After eating together, you decided to test out the bathroom by taking a shower. When you walk in nothing more then a small towel wrapped around your body back to your bedroom, you decide that you will unpack and organize tomorrow. For now you only need to find something to sleep in. You rummage through your bagage, but there’s no pyjama in sight. Fuck. Clothes are quickly scattered around on the bedroom floor.
“Fuck,” you mutter.
You wonder if Lando has something you can wear for tonight, tomorrow you can get your other stuff. In nothing more then a towel on your body, you walk out of your room and start to search for Lando. You hold the towel closely to your body, not wanting to flash Lando. He isn’t in the living room or kitchen, you continue to search. When you hear noises coming out of his game room, you softly knock on the door.
“Lando?” You ask while knocking again.
In no time the door is opened. Lando is standing in front of you. You feel a bit distracted when you look at Lando. In some weird way you can’t stop looking at him. The earlier hoodie he was wearing has made place for a white blouse. It suits him. He looks so fine. Fuck.
“Can I borrow one of your shirts?” You ask him.
Lando doesn’t know what to think, or what to say, or what to do. His eyes are glued on the towel that’s wrapped around your body. Is it really the only thing you’re wearing right now? He can’t even think or function properly right now. He can’t look away from your almost bare body. Fuck, he already knows what he’s thinking about the next couple times while trying to orgasm. Your body looks even better then he already thought. He notices your curves and the way the towel accentuates them even more.
“Did you hear me?” It’s your voice that pulls him out of his thoughts.
“Oh no sorry,” he quickly mutters. He tries to look you in the eyes, but his eyes keep hanging on your body. He focusses on your breasts which are almost in his sight. It’s not hard to miss that you’re a bit cold, your nipples are coming through the towel.
“I wondered if you have something for me to sleep in?” You ask Lando again, surprised he didn’t hear you the first time. “I forgot my pajamas at home.”
“Of course,” Lando quickly replies. He takes you with him to his bedroom and searches through his closet for a bit. When he found a particular shirt, he’s quick to hand it to you. It’s not a coincidence that he chose a shirt with his name all over it. He hopes he’s going to see you into it. Within seconds you have left him alone again.
Lando sighs and walks back to the other room. This is going to be hard for him, but he can only hope that he’ll manage to win your heart eventually. When his phone vibrates, he quickly looks at it.
Max: Explain how I’m FaceTiming with Y/N and seeing her in one of your shirts already???
writers note ; don't really know yet how i'm going to write this one, so every idea is welcome :) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! ps; i changed the playlist link to a new one
part two
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris imagine#ln4#formula one#f1#lando norris imagines#roommates
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As promised some time ago: Gaz!
The new house is… well, you don’t dislike it. It’s beautiful, already renovated while you were busy selling the old house. Just new, unfamiliar. You’re unaccustomed to the noises it makes, the shadows it casts, the echoes off the walls.
You’re not too proud to admit (to yourself and your dogs) that you’re a bit of a chicken the first couple weeks. Too many nights watching spooky media about people living in walls or stalking new tenants — despite Skipper’s best efforts. So you keep one or more of the dogs with you at all times, fingers in their fur and lights on as you go. Ghost has been especially tolerant, leaning against your leg when the sun goes down and the house feels too strange.
You’ve always been grateful for the peace of mind that four huge wolf-dogs brings, but never more than now. With several sets of teeth surrounding your bed and guarding your locked doors, they’ve made the transition so much easier on your nerves.
The new forest behind the house is also some cause for concern. The first day you brought them home, you went out by yourself for quick inspection of the yard and immediate area. Sharp-eyed looking for glass, metal, or anything else dubious.
You came back to four extremely grumpy pups and were basically bullied out of leaving them alone again. Skipper was especially huffy that night.
But things feel like they’re beginning to settle. You’ve gotten a bigger couch, bigger floor cushions. There’s a second story to this new house — or more of a half-floor really. A loft? It consists of the master bedroom, master bathroom, and a sort of open-spaced landing that you’re using as a satellite collection zone for toys.
Sometimes, when you’re on the couch, you’ll catch a bit of movement and get spooked by one of the boys staring from the railing that overlooks the den. Have fussed at wagging Johnny twice now for it.
Still, the transition to your new home has been as smooth as you could ask for with four giant, protective dogs. You miss the old place a bit; have the irrational fear that you’re going to miss another displaced dog in need of a home, but you try not to think about it.
Maybe you should have thought about it a little more.
One evening, you let the boys out for their pre-bed potty. There’s a cup of chamomile tea in your hand, a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders. Winter will be setting in soon. It’s already cold enough to set your teeth on edge. Never mind that it’s been raining all day, only just letting up to light patter at sunset.
Commotion at the edge of the (much larger) yard catches your attention. All of your boys seem to be gathered around something. They’re not barking or growling, and from the dim porch light, you don’t see hackles raised but still. Anything that catches their attention is worth investigating.
Cursing under your breath, you set your mug aside, slip into some shoes, and snatch up your phone for the flashlight. It’s only when you’re halfway there that you remember to pray that it’s not something dead. Or dying. Or creepy.
“Please don’t let this be a spooky doll or something,” you whisper to yourself.
Skipper must hear you, because his head pops up. He doesn’t… look concerned. But he’s a dog, how would he know that something in the yard is of human concern?
He trots away from their little congregation to meet you, almost like he’s escorting you to whatever they’re gathered around. You realize why when the flashlight illuminates a ball of soaked fur.
“Oh,” you breathe, “oh no…”
You gently nudge Konig aside to kneel down, a dry sob bubbling up in the back of your throat when you hear a quiet, miserable mew. A pair of brilliant green eyes squint and shy from the light, wide and sad.
“Oh, baby,” you coo. “Please come here. C’mon.”
You slowly, carefully extend a hand. Palm up, just a couple fingers. You’re not as familiar with cats anymore, but you remember enough to know that there‘ll be no scooping it up, even if it needs help. It’ll have to come to you of its own accord.
Relief floods you when you get the briefest cursory sniffle, and then the kitty is bumping its head against your hand for a scritch. You take a moment to pet what you can, heart breaking a bit with each shiver in the cold.
You keep coaxing it closer, gentle words and patient petting, getting bolder with your touch. When it’s finally close enough, the faintest purr rattling in its chest, you decide to try.
Apart from a nervous glance, the cat remarkably tolerant about letting you wrap your now-wet blanket around it, then scooping it up.
“Oof, you’re a big kid, huh?” You mutter, pausing to get a better hold. The darkness and hunkering down to preserve body heat was deceptive. This cat feels huge. “That’s alright, I’m used to it.”
You breathe a huge sigh when you enter the house again. It’s toasty inside — or at least it feels that way after sitting in the cold rain for fifteen minutes.
The boys files in after you, politely shaking off at the door before stepping into the mudroom. (Another upgrade you’ve been extremely grateful for.
You pause, try to get your bearings. You’ve got four soaked dogs, one possibly hypothermic cat, and you.
Christ, sometimes you wish you had an extra pair of hands.
“Okay. Let’s get the heater first.”
It’s already going, so you just turn it up a bit more, warm enough to start drying everyone. Then you go to the cupboard, sparing an arm from your oversized bundle to extract a towel.
You cross back to the heater and sit down, gently nestling your cat-burrito into the well of your legs.
The same big green eyes blink up at you, another mewl comes from it.
“Hi,” you croon, “isn’t that better already? Much warmer in here.”
You present the towel for inspection, let it sniff and decide it’s non-threatening before gently wiping it along the clumped fur. The dogs, to your surprise, don’t crowd to investigate. Skipper stops by to give the cat a sniff, before ultimately flopping down against your hip. But the other three arrange themselves around you, watching, but giving you and the kitty some space.
Remarkably thoughtful of them, and you tell them as much, praising their good behavior. The kitty, in the meantime, just… stares. It’s been a long time since you interacted with one, but you don’t remember your grandma’s tabby being so…
“Can I help you, little one?” You ask, grinning when it blinks at you slowly. You brush a finger under its chin, grinning when its eyes go half-lidded and nearly cross. “You’re worse than my Johnny boy with the staring.”
You receive a huff for that and laugh softly, making kissy noises at him until his tail thumps against the absorbent floor mat.
The cat is back to staring, though, ears up. You hum and keep up the half-scratching, half-drying technique until its fur starts to fluff up and you can take proper stock of the animal you’ve just rescued.
You weren’t kidding about it being big. Biggest cat you’ve ever seen — you’d almost think it was wild if not for the sweet face. You’re sure you might have seen the breed somewhere before…
Maine coon, maybe? Or… Siberian something or other? It’s fluffy, that’s for sure. But even without all the fluff that’s beginning to poof out like a dirty cotton ball, it’s a big cat. Big enough to be an average dog.
You huff in amusement that more it dries out.
“You look like a little storm cloud,” you giggle. “Well, little being relative.”
You receive a more normal-sounding meow for that. It thrills you that it’s already sounding better. Less sad, for sure.
The purring even start up again, developing into a deep hum like a running motor. It’s instantly soothing, the same way listening to the dogs’ breathing is. It lulls you until you’re nearly dozing sitting up. Only the wet nose of Skipper against your cheek rousing you.
“Jesus, right,” you say, jolting. Take a drowsy look around. All the boys seem dry or mostly dry. The only damp spot left on your new feline friend seems to be the feet, which won’t take much longer. “Let’s get inside proper.”
You lock up the mudroom and turn the heater low again, then urge everyone into the den. The cat doesn’t even hesitate, threading cleverly between your moving legs as you shuffle to the kitchen.
You prep an extra bowl of food and leave it up for the cat where the dogs can’t get it. Give it one last stroke from head to tail before trudging for the bathroom.
Normally, you’d be more concerned about leaving a cat in a house full of dogs. But the boys proved already that they have no interest in hurting the cat, despite the earlier crowding. Figure there are plenty of places to hide if they do make the kitty uncomfortable regardless.
The hot shower only serves to thicken the drowsiness blanketing you, leaving you heavy-lidded and sluggish. You pull the curtain aside to the usual audience of huge eyes, a new pair among them — the cat perched on the bathroom sink.
When you lean to grab your towel, they stick their face close for a sniff and you pause, always patient for curious creatures. When the little nose gets too close to your mouth, you twist and drop a quick peck to its snout before leaning back. The flabbergasted look makes you laugh as you begin toweling off.
“What a funny little thing you are,” you coo. “Would you like to be mind.”
“Mrrrow!”
“Yeah, I made a good first showing, huh?”
You have absolutely zero supplies for a cat, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Right now, you just want to climb into bed and conk out. Home-making and animal-saving takes a lot out of you.
As always, the furry procession to your room leaves you warm and happy. Johnny always the first to hop into bed, licking your shoulder when you climb in beside him. Konig takes your other side, much more willing to snuggle now that you have the California King mattress to accommodate your pack. Ghost licks at Skipper’s chin in the doorway, then jumps up to lie by your hip, cuddling Johnny.
Skipper comes up last, padding over to receive one last kiss from you before lying by your feet, on the side closest to the door. You’re less concerned about kicking him now with the extra room, and enjoy the heat for your toes.
You almost startle at the soft thump next to your head. Turn and blink to see big green eyes blinking down at you, a purr nearly rattling your brain.
“Oh, hi,” you murmur, “make yourself at home.”
The cat does just that, curling himself onto a pillow and pressing his forehead into your neck. You nearly melt as you flick off the light. It’s warm and quiet and dark, just the breathing of warm bodies and soft tap of rain.
“I love you all so much,” you whisper, fingers threading into Konig’s coat. “My loves.”
The house’s new echoes are still unfamiliar, so it’s just a product of being half-asleep that makes you think you hear voices in the middle of the night.
Main Story | Price pt. 2
Masterlist
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#1fur1#dog john mactavish#dog john price#dog konig#dog simon Riley#cat Kyle Garrick#woof woof au
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A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1
AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147
Maybe support me on kofi?🥺👉👈
Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.
Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.
tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy
author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.
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The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.
Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.
The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.
But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.
He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.
It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.
It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.
It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.
… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.
The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.
You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.
Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work.
Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.
You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.
You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.
But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!
Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.
You felt like you had tried . You really had.
But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.
Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.
Big fucking joke.
He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.
He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.
No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?
When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road.
You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.
He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .
Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.
“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.
“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”
Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .
You fucking hated the dog crate.
Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive.
But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion.
Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left.
Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.
Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look.
You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.
That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.
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It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.
He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.
“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.
“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.
“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”
“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”
Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach.
“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”
Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another.
“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“
“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”
Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”
“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.
As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything.
“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”
“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction.
You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.
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The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.
“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”
You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.
“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”
“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.
All three of them were enormous .
Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.
Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.
The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.
“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”
Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.
“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”
“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John.
“How come they were discharged?”
“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”
“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.
You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.
“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”
“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”
They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.
“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.
“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.
“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”
“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”
You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.
“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.
“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?
“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”
“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”
You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.
The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.
The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.
“You can look closer if you want, sir?”
You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.
“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.
“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“
“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”
“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”
“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”
Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”
A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.
“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”
You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.
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They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.
Fucking great. Beasts all around you.
John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.
One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.
Maybe John had gone mad.
next chapter ->
#my writing#boolger#fanfiction#call of duty#cod fanfic#ao3 fanfic#call of duty fanfic#call of duty soap#tw noncon#tw dubcon#dubcon and noncon#hybrid!141#hybrid!reader#hybrid!au#farmer!john price#farmer au#call of duty au#nikolai x reader#gaz cod#ghost cod#cod#john price cod#john price call of duty#john price x reader#soap x ghost#johnny soap mactavish x simon ghost riley x kyle gaz garrick x reader#reader call of duty#poly!141#poly!task force 141 x reader#lapdog at a farm
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A BRAND NEW SIMS 3 WORLD : SHETLAND HARBOUR
And here we are ... At last :D
10 years ago, Rope crafted a remarkable world, inspired by Starlight Shores, and generously given away to the community : Brightwater.
We embraced this gift, transforming and reshaping it, creating an island to eliminate distant terrain, and thus, Shetland Harbour was born ...
While many creators have fashioned stunning Sims 3 worlds with a Northern charm—like Saaqartoq, Greymont Bay, Lillebror, or Plymouth Isles—ours, stands a little apart.
Shetland Harbour is a unique blend : a touch of Aurora Skies, a hint of Moonlight Falls, and a dash of the unfortunate Barnacle Bay, all interwoven with our own vision of course. It is a vast yet easily navigable world, balanced between lightness and richness, featuring nearly all the Rabbit Holes the game offers.
Our aim was to craft a cohesive and vibrant world, one that feels alive and contemporary, with harmonious architecture and a spirit that invites exploration and delight :)
Welcome to Shetland Harbour, a picturesque coastal town nestled between rolling green hills and a fantastic bay … It is a beautiful medium/large-sized world, a community nestled on its own secluded island, accessible only by ferry. The town is known for its charming cobblestone streets, a vibrant fish market, and a rich history dating back centuries, dotted with quaint cottages, a bustling coast, and a grand lighthouse standing guard at the harbor’s entrance ...
This hidden gem is a haven for sheep, but don't let that fool you – Shetland Harbour is far from a sleepy place. With its rich maritime history, the town offers a unique blend of tradition and vibrant local culture.
Designed to capture the essence of a northern European island, Shetland Harbour offers a self-contained community with 100 lots in total : 65 residential lots + 35 community lots. Each Lot ( except the Old Renovated Factory ) is fully furnished.
In addition, there are multiple sheep ( all by Murfeel ) fields here and there – the latter being especially dear to the local culture, a close-knit community, where the ocean's presence is always felt and the simplicity of rural life is celebrated.
Shetland Harbour combines a lively downtown with peaceful suburbs and serene neighborhoods, featuring quaint cottages, charming gardens, and scenic paths through lush greenery.
The town's historic churches, like Old Church, Albert Church or Lux Chapel, are steeped in tales of ancient rituals and ghostly apparitions ... Albert Church, built on a Druidic site, is haunted by druid spirits, while Lux Chapel is known for the ghost of a sailor, seen on stormy nights ...
The mysterious stone circle inside the Graveyard, Ghost Place, adds to the island's mystical allure. Rumored to be a portal to another realm, it activates during celestial alignments, with visitors reporting strange occurrences. Town elders speak of a prophecy foretelling the return of ancient spirits and the awakening of the island's mystical powers. Signs include a rare star alignment, the stone circle's awakening, and three chosen individuals with the island's ancient bloodline ...
• Harbor Bay : The central feature of Shetland Harbour is its expansive bay. The bay is a natural harbor with calm, crystal-clear waters, making it ideal for fishing and sailing. It is surrounded by gently sloping hills and cliffs that provide stunning vistas of the sea. The marina is bustling with fishing boats, sailboats, and yachts sometimes … It’s the hub of maritime activity, with a fish market ( aka Grocery Store ), boat repairs, and a sailing club ( aka Business and Journalism Center )
• Lighthouse District : Right beside the Harbour, stands the Lighthouse Point, this district features historical homes and buildings, including a Norman cottage, a strange Diner and higher into the Hills, a fantastic museum dedicated to the town’s maritime history and a recent Hospital ready to welcome all the citizens of Shetland Harbour :)
• Beaches : The Coastline is dotted with sandy beaches, perfect for beachcombing, picnics, and bonfires. These areas are popular spots for locals and tourists alike. And you may want building some Coastal Houses for your Sims which is possible almost all alongside the sea ;)
• Old Town : The heart of Shetland Harbour is the Old Town, characterized by cobblestone streets, historic buildings, and a charming town square. Shetland Harbour's downtown area is a kinda picturesque pedestrian square, and quaint paths perfect for leisurely strolls …The Old Town includes the Town Hall, the Old Toad, the Talking Dog, a Fish and Chips, and even a Geek Store, all of them under the shadow of one of the oldest shop of the Island : the Elixirium ...
• Rolling Hills : Surrounding the town are rolling green hills covered in wildflowers and dotted with grazing sheep. These hills are perfect for hiking and offer panoramic views of the town and the bay. Beware of the fog !
• Forests and Woodlands : To the north of the town are more dense forests and woodlands with waterfalls upstream of the river which separates part of the island. These areas are home to various wildlife and provide a natural retreat for the residents. There are several well-maintained trails for hiking and exploring :)
Come and explore Shetland Harbour all your content ... Whether you're building your dream home, running a local business, or simply soaking in the serene atmosphere, this unique town promises endless possibilities and a truly captivating experience ...
Download Shetland Harbour today and start your new adventure!
\o/
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IMPORTANT : Before downloading Shetland Harbour !!!
Shetland Harbour contains custom content. As much as we try to include them into the world building process, we learned with time the necessity of providing a list those items. No worries, we used the same cc creators as usual and added 2 or 3 more. Such as the grey/dark roof we made, based on the terracotta roof of the game and the Wood walls you'll find on different lots, the same as the ones of Oaksoak Hollow ... Or more important, the boats used in the world and of course ... The sheeps ! All you need should be included and/or available down here ;)
1) the ANTS & CC :)
ANTS stand for Absolute Necessary Things & Stuff to enjoy Shetland Harbour :)
Download ANTS and CC ( both are needed to have all the right textures, the right look and feel of Shetland Harbour )
You will need too some of our Rabbit Holes
Not mandatory but nice : our 88 Patterns mostly brick, masonry, concrete and wood ;) A bit of fabric & paper too ...
ATTENTION : if you have played with one of our Worlds, you might see duplicate files. We try to use the same objects as much as possible. Of course, you don't have to install twice. Skip whatever you already have. We use Blams objects for some Sims 3 objects ... so if you already have those objects from any other means, just skip ;)
CREDITS & THANKS due to all the following creators :
ATS, Noir and Dark Sims, pitheinfinite, Brunnis-2, Blams, CycloneSue, HydrangeaChainsaw, Leroy157, Lisen801, Murfeele, Nilxis, PotatoBalladSims, Qahne, TheJim07, Mammut ( from BlackSimsZoo ) BlueCoco, BuffSumm, JomSims, Ladesire, Mutske
2) the Saved Games
They are in the same page than Shetland Harbour itself. You have the choice between Unpopulated and Half-populated. Whatever you choose, we always strongly advice with a save game ;) But as far we know, once we delivered a World, it is entirely up to you to begin a new adventure and make your own challenges with your own Sims :D
Download a save game
3) the Lots ( both residential & community )
Quite a bursting town, Shetland Harbour has 100 lots : 65 residential and 35 community and very important : many small sheep fields ( visitors not allowed com lots )
Download ALL the lots
Some lots are Maxis ones we modified, some lots are our own creations, and for the others, they come mostly from MTS ;) And we are very grateful to those creators who always offer a special flavor to our Worlds :)
CarlDillynson - Bellakenobi - Bast - MySimRealty - stonee206 - Norn - Cutbacks - Ferguson Avenue - SimplySimlish - hazelnutter100 - PolarBearSims - RubyRed2021 - CircusWolf - Moihi - Lasciel
Well, it is time for discovery now and you are ready for sure ! We wish you all the best, all the fun with your new life in Shetland Harbour !
Download Shetland Harbour World
PS : Shetland Harbour is a medium/large sized world of 88MB, and has been tested 1 week long on both Mac and Pc ;)
xoxo - blackgryffin
#the sims 3#sims 3 gameplay#sims 3#thesims3#ts3#sims3 worlds#sims3 build#shetland harbour#sims 3 world#sims3 cc#k hippie#k-hippie
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i'll be home for christmas | part three
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.
Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), soft!joel, hallmark tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, angst (but happy ending is here), hurt/comfort, reader's sister is pregnant
WC: 12.4K
A/N: the final installment is here! I hope you enjoyed Joel shoved into a cheesy Hallmark story. Thank you to everyone who showed me so much love, you've all made me stupidly happy.
Series Masterlist
He knew he shouldn't do it. He knew he was just setting himself up for more heartbreak, but he couldn't help it. It was the first time in years that he had felt the touch of a woman, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy and the bond that came with having a partner that he craved more than anything. It was someone he could confess his deepest fears to, his happiest moments and his wildest dreams. Someone he could lean on when he was weak, when he needed support the most. For once, he wanted someone to make him feel safe and comforted. Someone to care for him and love him and be there for him, no matter what. He wanted to belong to someone.
So, he knew he shouldn't do it, but he allowed it, anyway, because he had so little. When he woke up early the next morning and saw you curled into his side, your face buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist, he closed his eyes and let himself have the fantasy, just for a few minutes, of a world where you didn't live a different time zone away. Where it was just a typical Saturday morning for you both. He imagined the three of you going to breakfast before dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, then maybe you would beg him to take you to the home improvement store so you could pick out new paint and tile for the bathroom you wanted him to renovate. Then, after picking Sarah up, you would all go grocery shopping together. Sarah would come up with some dinner idea she saw online and you would help her pick out the ingredients while he pushed the cart and watched his girls try to sneak candy into the basket when you thought he wasn't looking. He liked to imagine you would all pitch in and help make dinner. Maybe each of you would be in charge of a certain part of the meal. Afterwards, you could all watch a movie together. He could enjoy a beer while you curled up next to him on the couch with a drink of your own. What was your preferred drink, anyway? He thought he saw you drinking wine the first night you met. He needed to find out. There was so much about you he didn't know yet, and he was desperate to know everything.
But when you woke up, you had other things on your mind.
That was how he found himself thirty minutes later deep inside of you again, coaxing out your second orgasm of the morning with your body sprawled out on top of him, whimpering into his neck while his hands guided your hips, rocking them back and forth until he felt your legs shake and he couldn't take it anymore. He rolled you over so you were on your back where he could reach the furthest depths of you, nudging against a spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head and chant his name over and over until you unraveled around him again, and only once he was absolutely sure you were satisfied did he allow himself to let go and empty himself into you. Because even though he wants someone to take care of him sometimes, he has no problem taking care of you like this, first.
"Can I make you breakfast?" he asked after he caught his breath. You laughed softly, your throat sounding a little sore and it made his chest swell with pride.
"I have a confession to make," you said, rolling onto your side and tucking your hands under your head to face him. "I'm not really a breakfast person."
He gave you a look as if you had just told him the worst news of his entire life, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles.
"That's okay, sweetheart. I'm here now. I can change that," he replied with a grin, about to get up and drag himself out of bed when his phone rang.
"Must be Sarah," he said with a groan, reaching over and pausing when he saw the caller ID. He flipped the screen over to show you and your eyes widened in shock.
"My dad is calling you?" you asked, sitting up with the sheet wrapped around you. Whipping your head around, you quickly put the pieces together. "Oh my god, my phone's downstairs, they probably think I'm dead or something!"
Joel stood up and answered the call, spinning around to pick up his boxers from the floor and even though the moment was slightly ruined by your father, you still took a second to appreciate his fully naked body in the light of day for the first time.
"Hey, Paul," Joel said into the phone, yanking his underwear back on. "Yeah, hold on a second."
He held his phone out to you, and you cringed, gingerly taking it from him and putting it up to your ear.
"Hey, Dad," you said, trying to sound normal and not like your entire life was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.
"Mhmm, yeah I'm so sorry, my phone died last night," you said, biting your nail and glancing up at Joel. He held up a finger and headed down the hall to go downstairs and find your phone, giving you a bit of privacy.
He went to the kitchen and saw your cell next to your purse on his table. When he picked it up, the screen lit up in his hand. He saw a few missed calls and texts from your dad and sister, a couple texts from a girl named Sydney and the most concerning of the bunch, one singular text from a Will. He froze, staring down at the phone, unblinking as his chest began to rise faster. You never mentioned your ex-fiancé's name, but something in his gut told him it was Will.
His thumb hovered over the screen, the urge to open and read it overwhelming him, but he quickly stopped himself. That wasn't the type of man he was. What he felt for you was real and intense and life changing, and he wasn't going to screw that up. In order to make this work, assuming you would want to make a long-distance relationship work, the foundation of it would have to be trust. So, he let the screen go dark as he turned on the coffee pot and trudged back upstairs to hand you your phone. You smiled up at him gratefully as you listened to your dad on the other end.
"Yeah, Dad, that sounds great," you said in a tone that clearly sounded like you weren't interested. Joel smirked as he walked over to his dresser, pulling out two clean T-shirts. As he bent over to find some sweatpants, he saw you pick up your phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as your thumb froze over the screen for a moment, just long enough to allow the shock of the name to set in before you pressed down on the text and dragged it to a red button that said 'delete'.
He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep the grin from his face so you wouldn't catch on. You deleted it without even opening it. He took a deep breath as you wrapped up the call with your dad. This can work. It will have to work. You could do this.
"Sorry," you said, handing his phone back and giving him an embarrassed look. "God, that was so awkward."
"It's alright," he said with a chuckle, handing you a T-shirt and sweatpants. You raised an eyebrow as you took them and placed them on the bed.
"You think I'll fit in your sweats?"
"It's all I got," he said with a shrug and yanked on fresh clothes of his own. "You're more than welcome to walk around naked, if you prefer," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your lips.
You hummed against his mouth before he pulled away to pick up the scattered clothes on the ground from the night before. When he bunched up the white T-shirt he wore underneath his button down, you stopped him.
"Wait," you said, and he turned around. You had your arm stretched out; his bedsheet still pressed against your naked chest. He reached over to hand you the dirty shirt, and you smirked up at him, dropping the sheet and exposing your top half.
His throat went dry as his eyes instantly fell to your chest, and he tried to ignore that familiar stirring below his waist as you deliberately took your time slipping his used shirt over your head. He remained frozen in place, barely blinking as you slid your legs out from under the covers and stood.
"I wanna smell you on me," you said by way of explanation, gazing up at him with eyes that were too soft and lips that were too swollen and fuck, you were too perfect.
You watched him from your seat at the kitchen island as he stood over the stove, expertly cooking eggs and bacon as if he were on autopilot, like he had done it so many times before, and probably did, but for Sarah. You took a sip of your coffee before padding up behind him, legs still bare in only just his used T-shirt, so you could wrap your arms around his stomach, resting your cheek against his back.
"Can I help?" you asked, taking a deep breath in, letting his scent fill your nostrils.
"No, baby, I got it," he said softly, turning his head to the side so he could try to see you hidden behind him.
You hummed and let your arms drop back to your side once it became apparent you were in the way, but he refused to say anything about it.
Picking up your phone from the counter, you sat back down to open all the missed notifications from last night and that morning. The texts from your dad and Cassie were similar, each wondering where you were and if you were okay but reading between the lines and noting the lack of real urgency in the tone, it seemed like they had both figured out where you ended up. With a sigh, you went to open the messages from Sydney.
Sydney: girl, tell me you checked insta
Sydney: can you believe that bullshit? what a fucking slut
You frowned, tapping out a quick reply to her as Joel plated your breakfast. You were about to open the app to see what she was talking about when he sat down next to you. The time you had with him was so short and precious, you didn't want to waste it scrolling on your phone or talking to people who never even bothered to ask you how you were doing after your breakup.
"This looks amazing," you said, eagerly picking up your fork. "Thank you," you added, hiding your mouth full of food behind your hand.
"Thought you weren't a breakfast person," he said, raising an eyebrow at you.
"Guess I worked up an appetite. Wonder why that is?" you teased, nudging your shoulder against his as he tried to hide the blush creeping up his neck. "You like to talk about my hidden talents, but you never mentioned that you were such a good cook," you said.
"Eggs and bacon ain't that hard," he said with a laugh.
"I would probably find a way to mess it up," you said.
"Well, I make it every Saturday for me and Sarah. Why don't you come by next week and I'll show you," he shrugged, not even realizing what he said until the words already slipped past his lips. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air leaving your body so fast it made you lightheaded. He paused when he realized that you wouldn't be there next Saturday and quickly dropped his fork to pull you against his chest after he saw the look on your face.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinkin'," he murmured into your hair.
"It's okay," you said quietly, doing your best not to cry. You had cried enough last night, and you had no interest in starting up again. So, instead, you pulled back and looked up at him with a sad smile before planting a quick kiss against his lips, then stood up. You collected your plates and brought them over to the sink, then turned on the faucet and picked up the sponge.
"You don't gotta do that," Joel said, jumping up to push you aside, but you wouldn't budge.
"You cooked, I'll clean," you said firmly, squirting some soap onto the plates. "You don't have to do everything, you know," you added when it became apparent he wasn't comfortable with you cleaning the dishes.
"Okay," he said quietly before reluctantly sitting back down, watching as you scrubbed the plates and forks before moving to the frying pan.
He realized that this is what it would be like. It was one thing to imagine it, because he could convince himself reality wouldn't be as good. That real life didn't work that way and could never live up to the absurd scenarios he tended to dream up in his head when he was in need of comfort.
But the silly little fantasy he had that morning was nothing compared to the real thing, and now that he's had it, he was terrified of losing it.
"So, I was thinkin'... work slows down in January, I could probably come up and visit you. I'm sure Tommy'll be fine with watchin' Sarah for a few days. What'dya think?"
He glanced over at you in the passenger seat of his truck, still wearing his T-shirt under your sweater but having found a better fitting pair of bottoms in Sarah's room.
"Oh! Yeah, that sounds great," you said, sounding surprised. "I don't even know where I'll be living, though," you added with a frown.
"Well, once you get back and figure it out, I'll book the plane ticket. I already looked, fares are low that time of year, lots of options," he rambled nervously, squeezing the steering wheel as his mind tried to work out the details.
"You already looked?" you asked him with a small smile, and he nodded.
"Yeah, looked last night after you fell asleep," he replied. "I know you're worried 'bout it, 'bout us, but we'll make it work, alright?"
"Yeah, okay," you said quietly, then forced a smile on your face when he gave you a concerned look. "I'm just really going to miss your cooking," you said solemnly, making him laugh.
You knew your options were limited and that this was the best choice. But you also knew long-distance relationships were hard, even for couples that had known each other for much longer than a few weeks.
Maybe you could each take a turn visiting the other every month. Maybe if you really try and put in the effort, talk to each other every single day, maybe it could work. But what was the long term plan? He couldn't move to New York, not when he has his daughter to think about. Would you eventually move back to Texas? Give up everything you've been working towards in New York, the life you built, just to end up back home? What would be the point in ever moving there in the first place? It had to all be for something, right?
He walked you up the porch steps, just like he did since that first night. Always so courteous and respectful. You dropped the bag that carried your dress at your feet, drawing your attention to the ridiculous outfit you were wearing. Your white sweater buttoned up over his oversized shirt, with Sarah's pink pajama bottoms and your high heels from last night.
"If this isn't a walk of shame, I don't know what is," you said, stifling a laugh. He grinned and glanced around.
"Better get in before the whole neighborhood sees," he said, tilting your chin up for a kiss. "Don't need everyone talkin'," he added softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" you asked hopefully, and he nodded.
"Yeah, Tommy's party," he reminded you. You nodded.
"Should be fun," you said.
"Yeah," was all he offered as a response, not yet making a move to go, clearly not wanting to leave you.
"You gotta get Sarah," you told him, finally forcing his feet to move.
"Yeah, okay," he said with a sigh. "Talk to you later?"
"I'll text you. My mom wants to decorate the tree today." You rolled your eyes, making sure the doorbell camera couldn't see, and he smirked.
"Go!" you told him, playfully shoving his chest back when he still remained firmly planted on the porch. He grinned and finally turned to jog down the steps.
"Alright, alright," he said, glancing behind him so he could watch you go inside. He still had that stupid grin on his face as he made his way to his truck, but it quickly faded when he heard your dad call out from the garage.
"Hey, Joel, got a minute?" Paul asked, wiping his hands with a rag and leaning against the door frame. Shit.
"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, taking a deep breath before walking up the driveway where your father stood waiting.
"Hey Paul, 'bout yesterday-"
Your dad held up his hand and shook his head, silencing Joel.
"You don't gotta say anythin', she's an adult, I just need to make sure she's alright," Paul said, eyeing Joel up and down.
"I shoulda reminded her reach out, it won't happen again," he replied, looking Paul square in the eye.
"I don't just mean last night, Joel," Paul said, a little quieter now. Joel searched the older man's eyes, and then he saw it. The deep concern that only a father could have for his daughter. A look that Joel had noticed in the mirror more and more lately.
"You make her real happy. I can see it, and I am grateful to you for that," Paul continued. "But she's goin' back to New York soon, and it's got me worried, I ain't gonna lie to you. She's been through a lot lately, and she doesn't deserve -" his voice cracked, and he glanced down at his feet.
"Paul, I care about her. I really care about her, and I think she cares about me, too. I'm gonna do whatever I gotta do to make this work," Joel said, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm the only one who can end up gettin' hurt here."
Paul dragged his gaze up to Joel once again with a sigh.
"I don't want either of you gettin' hurt. You're a good man, Joel. I've always liked you. Martha's always liked you. I'm just askin' you to be careful with my little girl, yeah?"
"I hear you," Joel said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I will, I promise."
"Good," Paul said, clapping his hand on Joel's shoulder.
"Listen, I gotta pick Sarah up from a sleepover, but I'll be back tomorrow. My brother's havin' a Christmas party at his house. Think he asked Cassie to come, too."
"Yeah, he invited us. I didn't get a chance to talk to him much at the party, but he invited us through Josh just yesterday," Paul said.
"Oh?" Joel replied, wondering why they got a last minute invite, but chalked it up to Tommy just being Tommy. "Sounds great. I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Joel let out a shaky breath as he walked back to his truck. He had to hand it to Paul: if the roles were reversed and it was Sarah in your shoes, he wasn't sure he would be so understanding.
Luckily for you, your mom was nowhere to be found as you hurried up to your bedroom and shut the door behind you quietly. It was bad enough your parents knew where you were spent the night, they didn't need to see the evidence on top of everything else.
You tucked Joel's shirt into the bottom of your drawer, not wanting to mistakenly wash it, but made sure to put Sarah's pajama bottoms in the pile of laundry you had to tackle today.
After taking a quick shower, you headed back to your room to check your phone. You knew Joel was with Sarah and you shouldn't expect a text already, but you were still disappointed. You couldn't get enough of him. He was on your mind day and night, consuming your thoughts and dreams at every turn. The logical part of your brain warned you it was just infatuation, that new relationships always brought a sense of excitement and passion. But your heart was telling you otherwise. You had deep and profound feelings for him. Feelings you never felt before, or you thought you felt before, but never did to this degree.
Even if you called him every single day, how could you go that long without his touch? You could barely get through an hour without it now. You yearned for him in a way you never thought possible; a way that made you feel like you could finally understand what Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë wrote about. You knew it sounded crazy, that your friends or family couldn't ever understand, but that was fine. It was something you could have just for yourself.
You leaned back into your bed, your hair still wet and wrapped in a towel, as you scrolled through your phone. Realizing you had been brushing Sydney off the past several days, you opened her text, rereading it and then opening Instagram to try to find out what she had been talking about.
You scrolled a while, realizing you hadn't paid much attention to social media the past couple weeks and missed quite a bit. You saw the standard pictures of your friends and coworkers partying, taking selfies at holiday parties, but nothing stood out to you. With a frown, you swiped back to her text.
You: I couldn't find anything on insta, what are you talking about?
You waited a few minutes, flipping back to the app to scroll again before getting a response.
Sydney: did you see Chris's pics from a few nights ago at tunnel??
You typed in his name in the search bar and began swiping through his pictures. You found the ones where he was at Tunnel, but again, you had no idea what she was talking about. Before you could ask, she sent another text.
Sydney: 4th and 5th pics, zoom in, behind him and Jess
Finding the pictures, you pinched your screen and gasped. There, in the background, was Will and your friend, Melanie, with their tongues down each other's throats. The very same Melanie you were bunking with until you found a new place to live. You couldn't see her face in the fourth picture, but when you zoomed in on the fifth one, they had pulled away slightly and it was obvious who it was.
Will had texted you last night and you deleted it. Now you wondered if he had texted you to try to do some damage control over these pictures. The thought infuriated you. These people clearly didn't give a damn about you, they only wanted to ease their own conscience, and you weren't going to let them.
Sydney began to send a whirlwind of texts after, but you hardly responded to any of them. What were you going to do? How could you go back and continue to live with Melanie after what you just saw? Was she the girl he was seeing the whole time? You never bothered to ask when you found out, you didn't think your friends would betray you like that, so you didn't care.
Angry now, you opened up a text to your sister and began furiously typing.
You: are you free tomorrow? We need to look for apartments for me asap
With a groan, you put your phone on silent and slid under the covers. Maybe Sydney would let you stay with her. She didn't have a huge place, but if it was only for a couple weeks and you had a place lined up before you got back, maybe she wouldn't mind.
You glanced at the mirror one more time, fixing a few loose strands of hair and checking your teeth before snatching your purse off the table, shoving your phone inside, and heading down the stairs where you could hear Joel in the kitchen talking with your parents.
Your mom was wearing one of her patented, unironic ugly Christmas sweaters, and it seemed as though this year she managed to rope your dad into it because he had a reindeer on the front of his that looked like one of the eyes was perilously close to falling off.
Joel turned to greet you with a warm smile, choosing to wear a much more normal off-white V-neck sweater with a pair of dark jeans. He pulled you into a hug, murmuring in your ear how beautiful you looked in the dark green knee length dress you picked out.
"Where's Sarah?" you asked him.
"She's been at Tommy's all day, wanted to help him set up," he explained.
"You ready to hit it?" your dad asked, looking down at his watch. You nodded, looping your arm through Joel's as you followed your parents out the front door. It was much colder than you were expecting, the bitter wind taking your breath away as Joel jogged ahead to start the truck. Your mom veered off towards their SUV, and your dad turned to you.
"See you there," he said, his breath clouding in front of his face in little puffs.
"Yeah. Hey, how'd mom get you to wear that ridiculous thing tonight?" you asked him with a teasing lilt to your voice as you pointed to his sweater.
Your dad chuckled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.
"Sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love, Buck."
Your dad headed over to the driver's side of his SUV, leaving you cemented to the ground as his words tumbled around in your head.
"All good?" Joel asked, his arm coming up to your shoulders, steering you to the truck and out of the cold.
"Yeah," you whispered, taking his hand so he could help you up into the cab.
You were always amazed how comfortable your parents were in unusual social settings. Even if they hardly knew anyone, they managed to make new friends within ten minutes of arriving. That's why it came as no surprise when they branched off from you and Joel after arriving at Tommy's house, first finding your sister and her husband, and then laughing jovially with an older couple you learned later were Tommy's neighbors.
Cassie waved to you from across the room, beckoning you over. You smiled and waved back as Joel slid your coat from your shoulders.
"I'll get us somethin' to drink, what'dya like?" he murmured, his hand falling to the small of your back.
"I'm all set, but thank you," you said with a smile. He gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before heading off to the kitchen while you made your way across the room to your sister, giving her a big hug.
"Did you get my text?" you asked as you pulled away.
"Yeah, sorry. You wanna get together tomorrow and we can look?" Cassie asked, and you nodded.
"That would be great," you said with relief as Joel sidled up next to you, beer in hand.
"What would be great?" he asked, taking a sip from the bottle.
"I'm gonna help her look for apartments tomorrow," Cassie explained. Joel nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew you were leaving in a few days, but he tried his best not to think about it, too worried that he would waste what little time he had left already missing you.
"Dad!" you all heard Sarah's voice ring out over the crowd of people in Tommy's living room. A smile instantly stretched across his face as he turned around, his daughter's arms wrapping around his midsection and squeezing him tightly. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she turned to embrace you right after, once again complimenting your dress and hair. Cassie and Josh exchanged knowing glances before Joel introduced them to his daughter.
"C'mon, I want you to try the cookies I made," Sarah said, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the kitchen. Joel watched the two of you leave, his chest aching and his throat tightening at the sight of his daughter so happy.
"You okay?" Cassie asked, startling him.
"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he realized Tommy had come over to talk to Josh about what sounded like football.
"You're not a very good liar, Joel," Cassie said with a smirk. Joel gave her a surprised look and chuckled.
"No, reckon I'm not," he replied, taking another sip from his beer. His eyes met yours when you turned around in the kitchen and took a bite from a sugar cookie, tossing him a wink that made him smile.
"Do you love her?"
Joel nearly choked on his beer, his head swiveling back towards Cassie in surprise.
"Bit soon for that, don't you think?" he finally managed to say.
"That doesn't exactly answer my question," she said with a glint in her eye. Joel felt his heart hammering in his chest. Of course, he loved you. And apparently, it was very obvious. But still, he struggled with an answer, not sure how much to tell your sister. When a couple minutes passed and he still hadn't thought of anything to say, Cassie's eyebrows pinched together.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, reading the pain on his face. He sniffed and shook his head.
"It's alright," he replied, but his voice cracked, so he took another sip of beer to help distract from it.
"Dad! Do you wanna try one?" Sarah asked from the doorway, holding out a green sugar cookie in his direction. Joel forced a small smile and nodded before muttering excuse me to Cassie and headed over.
He plucked the cookie gingerly from his daughter's hand and took a bite, nodding to her and smiling as he chewed.
"Real good, baby girl," he said after he swallowed.
Sarah grinned mischievously as you approached, sliding your arm up and rubbing his back affectionately.
"She did a good job," you said, nodding towards the cookie. Sarah took a few steps back and looked up.
"Oh, no," she said, her tone flat, implying sarcasm as she pointed above your heads. "Guess you better kiss."
You both looked up at the small bundle of greenery wrapped in a little red bow pinned to the doorframe. You bit your lip and tilted your chin back down, raising an eyebrow at him.
He sighed and rolled his eyes as if it were a great burden, but he couldn't keep his mouth from turning up into a smile as he placed his beer and half eaten cookie on the table behind you so he could gently cup your jaw with both hands. You lifted your face up and let your eyes flutter closed when his lips brushed tenderly against your own, and just like the first time you kissed, all the noise surrounding you faded away. The only thing that mattered in those few moments were the two of you and the love that clearly burned so brightly that it drew the attention of Tommy and your family.
Your parents exchanged a sad glance and looked away right as Joel pulled back and gave a small kiss to the tip of your nose, then reluctantly dropped his hands to his sides.
"Adorable," Sarah said with a grin. You turned to look at her as she held up the screen of her phone, showing you the picture she sneakily took. You felt your cheeks flush as you gave her a playful shove, making her giggle.
A few hours later, Joel drove you home, with Sarah humming to herself in the backseat of the cab while she scrolled on her phone. His hand interlocked with yours as he drove, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles while he steered the truck with one hand.
"Can you come over on Christmas?" Sarah asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
"She's gotta spend Christmas with her family, baby girl," Joel said, his eyes shifting to the review mirror to look at her.
"Actually, we exchange gifts tomorrow," you told him. "We've always done our presents on Christmas Eve. But I'm sure you guys want to do your own thing-"
"No," Joel said quickly, cutting you off. "We just have Tommy over. If you're free, we'd love to have you."
"Are you sure?" you asked him quietly, but Sarah's voice piped up from behind you.
"We're sure," she said confidently, making you chuckle.
"You heard her," he said with a grin.
"Alright then, that sounds great, thank you," you replied as he pulled into your driveway.
"I'm just gonna walk her up, okay?" Joel said over his shoulder, and Sarah just nodded, staring down blankly at her phone.
"I hope she didn't put you on the spot. If you aren't comfortable with it, I understand," Joel said as he led you up the steps.
"Not at all. If anything, I thought I would be intruding on family time," you responded when you reached the front door.
But you are family he thought, refusing to say it outloud.
"You're never intruding," he said earnestly. "We tend to start early, though. Maybe I can pick you up tomorrow night?"
"Wouldn't that be weird for Sarah?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.
"I'll figure it out. I'll sleep on the couch or somethin'," he said reassuringly.
"Okay," you said, giving him a shy smile and tugging your lower lip between your teeth. He reached out to swipe his thumb lovingly over your cheek before pinching your chin and pressing a kiss against your lips.
"I'll see you tomorrow night, then," he murmured.
You watched as he jogged down the steps, his breath lingering in the cold air behind him. You lifted a hand to give Sarah a wave and stepped inside when your phone went off in your purse. With a frown, you lifted it out and when you saw the text, you blushed.
Joel Miller: Miss you already.
"Hey Buck, you in here?" your sister's voice said from the other side of your bedroom door.
"Yeah, come in," you told her, sitting up in bed but still staring down at your phone will a goofy smile on your face.
When Cassie walked in with her laptop and saw your face, she rolled her eyes.
"Lemme guess," she said, plopping down on the bed next to you. "Joel?"
You didn't reply, still staring down at your phone as you tapped out a text.
"Hellooo?" Cassie said loudly, waving a hand under your face. You blinked and looked up at her.
"What?"
"Did you hear what I said?"
"No, sorry, I was just texting Joel," you said, the grin coming back. "What did you say?"
"Nevermind," Cassie replied, shaking her head. "You ready to look at apartments? I did some research this morning and I found a few you might like, and they are really affordable."
"Oh, yeah?" you said, finally dragging your attention away from your phone, curiosity getting the best of you. "That's fantastic because you'll never believe this one."
You sat back and told Cassie about Will and Melanie, her jaw dropping at the end.
"You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed, and you shook your head.
"Nope. And you know, he had the audacity to text me trying to explain himself? I deleted the first one without reading it but the asshole actually texted me today, wishing me a Merry Christmas and oh, by the way, sorry I've been fucking your friend."
"What did you say?" Cassie asked, letting the laptop boot up on the bed next to her.
"Nothing. I just blocked his number. And I'm going to block Melanie, too, once I get back and get my shit from her place. Sydney said it's okay if I stay with her for a little bit, so I hope you found some decent options," you said, nodding towards the computer.
"Lemme pull them up," she said, moving the laptop towards her and taking a few minutes to pull up the sites she bookmarked, then she swiveled the computer to face you, watching your reaction closely. You narrowed your eyes at the screen and frowned, glancing up at her.
"These are in Austin," you said slowly.
"I know," she said, inching towards you on the bed. "I think you should stay, Bucky."
"Cas-"
"I saw you last night. Everyone saw you guys last night. And even if we didn't, it's so obvious to all of us-"
"Who? Mom and Dad?" you asked, rolling your eyes.
"Yes, Mom and Dad. And Josh. And Tommy. And probably even Sarah. Why are are you doing this to yourself?"
"Doing what? Going back to my home and my job? I didn't realize that was so irresponsible," you said sarcastically, growing more agitated.
"What home, Buck? Your home is here, with us. With Joel and with Sarah. And you know it," she said, crossing her arms.
"I'm not fighting with you about this. I'm not just going to give up and move back because some guy dumped me," you said, standing up from the bed.
"Would you give up and move back if another guy loves you?" she asked, stopping you cold.
"What?"
"He didn't tell me, but it's so obvious, Buck. C'mon, you see it, right?" she said, more gently now.
You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.
"Look, if you're not going to help me look for a place, can I at least borrow your computer? It's a lot easier to do it that way than using my phone."
"Fine," Cassie said, standing up and walking to the door. "But you're right, I'm not going to help you ruin your relationship with a guy who's actually fucking perfect for you. If you want to be stubborn, go right ahead."
"I'm not ruining my relationship with him, we're gonna do long-distance, and-"
"Yeah, okay. Good luck with that," she said over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.
When you saw Joel pull into the driveway later that evening, you rushed out the door, tossing a wave to your family over your shoulder. He frowned and jogged up to you, taking the duffel bag from your hand.
"Why didn't you let me come to the door? I wanted to say Merry Christmas to your folks," he said, following you to the passenger door.
"I was too excited to see you," you confessed, peeking inside and confirming Sarah wasn't in the car before turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep kiss. "Sorry," you added with a smirk, nipping lightly at his lip.
"I'll forgive you," he said with a grin, then yanked the door open to help you up. He tossed your bag on the seat behind you before getting behind the wheel and backing out of the driveway.
"Is Sarah excited for Christmas?" you asked him as you looked out the window. He loved that you always thought to ask about his little girl.
"Oh, yeah. She loves Christmas. Especially since we're supposed to get snow tonight," he said.
"I heard about that, might be a lot."
"That's alright, we got nowhere to be," he said with a wink. "I can make us all breakfast in the mornin', Tommy'll be by around ten, we can do presents and watch movies. Or whatever you want. That's just what we usually do. Are there any traditions or anythin' you like?"
The excitement in his voice was palpable. This was going to feel like a real Christmas for the first time in years. Not that he didn't enjoy holidays with his daughter and brother, but something always felt like it was missing.
"All of that sounds perfect," you said with a smile.
When you entered Joel's house, Sarah came bounding up to you for a hug before you could even get your coat off.
"I'm so excited! We're gonna have a sleepover! Dad said we can stay up late and watch movies and set up sleeping bags in the living room next to the tree - come here, let me show you!" She dragged you across the room, and you tossed a laugh over your shoulder at Joel who was watching with a smile from the door.
Sarah fell asleep sometime during The Grinch, after the three of you had hot chocolate and the leftover cookies she had made for Tommy's party. With a contented sigh, you sleepily reached over and wrapped your arm around Joel's waist and buried your face against his neck, falling asleep just like that while he finished watching the movie alone, the smile refusing to leave his face.
"Wake up!" Sarah shouted, making you both jump out of your skin.
"What's wrong?" Joel asked groggily, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. Then he smelled your shampoo and felt the warmth of your body against his and his heart melted as the night before came flooding back to him.
"It snowed, Dad!" she said. "Come on, I wanna build a snowman and do snow angels."
"It's early, honey, gimme a minute," Joel groaned, and he felt you trying to muffle your laughter against his chest.
"I'm gonna go wash up and change so we can go outside," she said, excitedly skipping up the steps.
"Jesus, you'd think she was eight years old," he mumbled, rolling on his side to wrap his arms around you tightly.
You burrowed into his chest deeper, the heat from his body washing over you and causing you to feel unbelievably relaxed, even if you were sleeping on the floor with an old sleeping bag as a mattress.
"Merry Christmas," you whispered, planting a soft kiss against his throat.
"Merry Christmas, baby," he said in return, his voice so deep and thick with sleep that it made your knees weak.
He leaned down and captured your lips with his while his fingers got tangled in your hair. He let out a satisfied groan when you let his tongue slip past your lips, sending goosebumps all over your body.
"Joel," you said breathlessly, pulling back. "She'll be back any second."
"Sorry. You're just so fuckin' pretty in the mornin'," he said with a grin. "Can't help myself."
After Sarah got ready, you and Joel took turns getting dressed and manning the stove. Once Joel made sure you were all full of pancakes, eggs and toast, he told Sarah she could go outside and take pictures while the two of you stayed behind to clean up.
Once again, you insisted on doing the dishes after he had cooked most of the meal. It was difficult for him to get used to that, but he put up less of a fight this time and let you do it, knowing that you were just trying to take some things off his plate. He reasoned that it was what he had wished for all along - someone to help him and care for him - so he might as well let it happen. He was in too deep at this point, anyway.
"The hell, you couldn't shovel me a damn path?" Tommy's voice boomed from the front door.
"That's what Sarah's for, why don't you yell at her?" Joel said with a grin as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, brother," Tommy replied, slapping him on the back before making his way to you across the kitchen.
"Merry Christmas, little lady," Tommy said, picking you up and spinning you around, the same way he did with Sarah at her recital. You giggled, and Joel could see in your face that you were surprised. You gripped Tommy's shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek when he finally put you down.
"Merry Christmas, did you eat? We still have some food left over," you said, pointing to the counter where the food was wrapped up in foil. When he heard you say we, it made Joel's stomach clench. Why on earth couldn't he have met you sooner?
"Don't mind if I do," Tommy replied, pulling a fork from the drying rack and grabbing the plates.
"Okay, Uncle Tommy's here, can we do our gifts now?" Sarah asked, rushing inside through the sliding glass door, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold and her tight brown curls carrying in a light dusting of snowflakes.
"Let him eat first, baby girl," Joel said, but Tommy shook his head, shoveling in a forkful of pancake.
"Go ahead and get started, I won't be long," he mumbled around the food in his mouth.
You and Joel brought your coffee into the living room and watched her excitedly open the gifts he had put under the tree, some of which you recognized as your own handiwork. He slung his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder. You leaned into him, bringing your knees up to your chest and your mug to your lips as you watched Sarah with a warm smile. Already, this was the perfect Christmas, and it had only just begun.
Sarah picked up a flat rectangular gift and read the tag before handing it over to you, and then going back to holding up the clothes she got.
You furrowed your brow and smiled when you saw it was from Joel, then turned to look up at him.
"It's nothin' really," he said with a shrug, but you could tell he was nervous. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy enter the room, picking up Sarah's gifts one by one to examine them.
You set your mug down on the coffee table and opened the package, your hands pausing when you began to recognize what it was. Hurriedly, you ripped the rest of the paper off and flipped it over. Tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at the wooden picture frame he had made for you. Hearts, snowflakes, stars and moons of various sizes filled each and every inch of the wood. All of them painstakingly carved by his patient hand. You ran your finger over the wood, marveling at how smooth it was, before you even thought to look at the picture itself. Inside the frame was a picture of the two of you at Sarah's recital: you in your red dress and him in his dark red dress shirt. Your eyes were closed and his lips were pressed gently against your forehead.
He cleared his throat, growing nervous the longer you stared and didn't say anything.
"It's not a big deal, just-"
"No, it is a big deal," you said, turning to him with tears in your eyes. "I love it." I love you.
"Yeah?" he asked, finally allowing a smile to spread across his face. "Tommy took the picture and the idea just came to me."
"It's perfect," you breathed, looking back down at it in wonder. "Thank you so much."
You continued to stare at it, looking closely at and admiring each symbol he marked in the wood when you remembered your gift.
"Oh, wait!" you said, jumping up from the couch to paw through your duffel bag. You pulled out a card in a red envelope and handed it to him with a smile.
"You didn't have to do anythin'," he said, but ripped open the envelope eagerly anyway.
"It's actually a gift for both of you, if you want," you began nervously, getting Sarah's attention. Joel opened the card and saw two plane tickets for a five day trip to New York. He looked up at you in shock and glanced at Sarah before looking back down.
"What is it?" Sarah asked, getting up to look over his shoulder. Her eyes widened and she gasped.
"We're going to New York City?!"
"If you want," you repeated, biting your lip. "I thought you could both come visit me for a few days next month. I picked the end of the month because Tommy said you won't be working," you glanced up at Tommy and he smiled. "But if you want to pick different dates, we can do that, too. They're flexible tickets."
You realized you were rambling now. Joel's eyes were still glued to the tickets in shock, and you were worried you might have overstepped.
"Dad! We're gonna go to New York City!" Sarah squealed, shaking his shoulder and yanking the tickets from his hands. His eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.
"They are fully refundable, too," you continued, suddenly feeling sweaty. "No pressure, I just thought-"
He reached forward to grip the back of your neck, pulling you forward and crashing your mouth onto his. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, but you managed to get your bearings and return his kiss. He pulled back and pressed his forehead affectionately against yours.
"Thank you," he whispered. You breathed a sigh of relief.
"You're welcome," you said with a smile.
He couldn't believe you thought of bringing his daughter with him to visit. His chest ached, seeing how wonderful you were with her, how caring and sweet and thoughtful and all the things his little girl needed and wanted but never got from anyone besides him and Tommy.
After the excitement died down, Sarah dragged you all outside to play in the snow. Insisting on building snowmen and taking tons of selfies because, as she said, it never snows this much in Texas, we need to memorialize it.
When it got too cold for you, you slipped back inside to make lunch, watching from the kitchen window as the three of them had a snowball fight, and laughing when Sarah nailed Joel square in the back of the head with a huge snowball.
The three of them finally came back in, filling the kitchen with a blast of cold air so crisp you could smell it. After they shrugged off their coats and gloves in the hall, Joel snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his freezing cold face into your neck, making you giggle and shriek. You tried to squirm away, but his grip was too tight.
"Warm me up, baby," he murmured into your neck, and you threw your head backwards as you laughed, your fingers trying to pry his hands off you.
"Oh, I love grilled cheese," Sarah said, eying up the sandwiches you had just plated as they walked in the door.
"I don't know how to make much, but I can make a mean grilled cheese," you told her, finally escaping Joel's grasp so you could join them at the table.
Joel couldn't remember the last time anyone cooked for him. Sarah tried a few times but ended up needing his help. He appreciated the thought and effort she had put into it, but it wasn't the same. He knew it was just a sandwich, but the fact he was able to sit down and have a warm meal without having to do it at a restaurant made it so much more meaningful to him.
The four of you spent the afternoon watching Christmas movies, drinking hot chocolate and eating leftovers from Tommy's party. You leaned up against Joel, his arm around your shoulders while you all watched Christmas Vacation, a beer in one hand while his other hand mindlessly played with the ends of your hair and all he thought was this is better than I ever could have imagined.
When the sun began to dip below the trees and the snow melted enough where his truck was visible again in the driveway, he reluctantly took you home, but only after you promised Sarah you would see her once more before you flew back home.
"Are you working tomorrow?" you asked him when you reached your front door.
"Yeah, but I can come by after," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Okay," you said quietly, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your face. "Thank you for today, I had a really great time."
He nodded and took a shaky breath in.
He wanted to tell you. The words were sitting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He knew if he did, you would never leave. So instead, he wordlessly stepped forward and gave you a soft kiss, his lips wrapping around your lower lip and giving it a gentle tug as he pulled away.
"Sleep tight," he murmured, the tip of his nose nudging your own. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart."
You watched him walk slowly down the steps and head to his truck, your eyes stinging and your chest tight as you bit your lip. He turned back to give you a wave before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. Only when his taillights disappeared down the street did you allow the tears to finally fall.
Joel pulled up to the job site early the next morning, spotting Tommy's truck already parked along the street. He glanced quickly at his phone to make sure he didn't miss a text from you before pulling on his gloves and walking up to the building.
"Hey," Joel said to Tommy when he walked in, then shrugged off his coat.
"Hey. Cold one out there today," he replied, taking a sip from his thermos. Joel grunted in response and kept his gaze focused on the tools in front of him. Tommy watched him for a moment before speaking again.
"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"
"Yep," was all Joel said in response.
"What time's her flight?"
"Morning. Ten or so," he replied, still not looking up.
"Hm," Tommy said, taking another sip of coffee. "You don't look so good today."
"Huh?" Joel asked, finally turning around to furrow his brow at his brother.
"You look a little under the weather. Maybe you oughta go home," he said, tilting his head to the side. It took a moment, then the realization dawned on him.
"Oh," he said, looking around the half built store, his fingers flexing at his sides, clearly thinking it over.
"Just go, Joel," Tommy told him.
"Yeah, but-"
"This can wait. Just go be with your girl," he urged gently. "I can handle things here today."
"Okay," he said, grabbing his coat and throwing it back over his shoulders. He turned around to thank him as he got to the door, but Tommy waved him off.
"Get goin'."
Joel grinned and flung the door open, jogging back to his truck and pulling out his phone.
Joel Miller: You awake?
He took the porch steps two at a time, his finger hovering over the doorbell before deciding to rap his knuckles against the door instead. He tapped his foot as he waited impatiently, then straightened up when he heard the sound of the door opening.
You peered around the door looking like you had just woken up, although you had claimed you were awake when he texted you fifteen minutes ago.
"Joel? I thought you had to work?" you asked, stifling a yawn.
"Anyone home?" he asked, ignoring your question and looking over your shoulder.
"No, they went shopping and then they were going to my sister's house after to help put together the crib," you told him, stepping back so he could enter.
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" you tried again as he quickly slid off his boots and coat.
"Yeah," he said, providing no more information.
He took a step forward and leaned down to press his lips against yours, his hands skirting up your sides and resting on your jaw. You brought your hands up to grip his shirt tightly, tipping your head back and opening your mouth, deepening his kiss with a moan.
"So, you're home alone?" he clarified a little breathlessly, and you nodded.
"Why don't you show me the guest room?" he murmured, breathing deeply and giving you another quick kiss.
"Didn't you build this house?" you teased but took his hand to lead him up the stairs anyway. He swatted your ass playfully and you giggled.
"Yeah, but you make every room look better," he said, and you rolled your eyes.
"Such a sweet talker," you told him with a smirk as you reached the top of the stairs.
"Like what you've done with the place," he said without even looking around. Instead, he kicked the door shut and pulled you against him, his mouth latching onto your neck. You sighed and tilted your head back, giving him better access as you walked backwards towards the bed and pulled him down on top of you.
"Will you and Sarah come see me tomorrow morning before I leave for the airport?" you asked suddenly, making his lips freeze on your throat.
"'Course we will," he said, leaning up and brushing the hair away from your face. You searched his eyes for a moment, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to steady your breathing. The rawness and vulnerability he saw made him weak.
"It's okay," he said soothingly, and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "It'll all be okay."
He heard the words come out of his mouth, but he couldn't bring himself to believe them. It didn't appear that you did, either, but you still nodded before dragging his face down to kiss you. He dipped his tongue past your lips, and you lifted the hem of his shirt up. He broke the kiss briefly, just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, then his mouth was back on yours while your hands roamed over his warm chest, trying to memorize every single detail of his pebbled skin while he was still here.
You lifted your hips, and he tugged your pajama pants down, leaving them in a heap at the bottom of the bed, then making short work of your shirt, leaving you almost completely exposed. His eyes raked up and down your body, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He tried not to think about this being the last time you would be together like this for at least a month, but the suitcase in the corner of the room kept catching his eye.
So, to distract himself, he frantically pulled down your panties and settled his shoulders between your thighs. Before you even knew what was happening, you felt his tongue between your folds and you gasped, fully not expecting that, but you recovered quickly, your fingers finding their way to the top of his head, gripping the dark curls there as your hips rocked against his face.
You whined and arched your back, his coarse facial hair adding just the right amount of friction to your most sensitive spot to send you tumbling over the edge, gasping his name over and over until your body went lax.
He crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your hips, stomach, breasts and shoulders until he reached your lips. The taste of yourself on his tongue was dizzying. It should have felt obscene, but it was the exact opposite. His taste and scent mixed with your own created something intoxicating, something indescribable that you wished you could keep and carry with you whenever you were lonely and two thousand miles away.
"Love the way you say my name," he mumbled against your mouth, his fingers working on the zipper of his jeans. Your breath caught in your throat when he shed his pants and underwear, the sight of him sending a tingle down your spine.
"You ready for me, baby?" he asked you, his palms squeezing your thighs. You hadn't realized it, but your body tensed up once you were reminded of his size. His gentle touch helped you relax while his hips nudged your legs apart, and you nodded.
"C'mere," you whispered, and he fell forward on his elbows so he could hover above you. You pinched his chin with your fingers and tugged him closer, brushing your lips softly against his, never wanting the moment to end.
He reached down between your bodies to line himself up, hooking your leg around his waist in the process. When he pressed forward, you let out a moan so soft and sweet that he needed to pause and clear his head.
"Fuck," he whispered as he eased all the way in. You had your lower lip tucked between your teeth and your chin tilted up to gaze at him, swallowing a whine as he rolled his hips, making you feel impossibly full. His eyes drifted down to where you were connected and his jaw went slack, watching in a trance at how beautifully your body accepted him.
"Joel," you gasped, trying to get his attention.
He looked up at you, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his breath coming in sharp pants.
"Roll over," you told him. He grinned and did as he was told, pulling you on top of him, his hands resting on your hips. You stilled for a moment as you adjusted around him, the angle far more intense, before you started rocking back and forth, then bouncing lightly, tipping your head back with your eyes slid shut.
God, if it wasn't the most beautiful thing he ever saw. Watching you lose yourself on top of him, chasing your release and moaning his name. It felt so surreal, he almost pinched himself. Then he felt his stomach tense and a familiar burning at the base of his spine and he knew he didn't have long. He sat up, one arm circling your waist, the other bracing his weight behind him, and he began to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm, his mouth open and hovering over yours as he waited for your body to warn him you were close.
"Joel!" you cried out, your face twisted with pleasure and your breath ragged.
"C'mon, baby," he urged, his hips snapping faster now.
You collapsed onto him, your cries muffled by his mouth as your climax washed over you and he finally let himself go with a loud groan of relief. His hips slowed and your eyes opened to look at him while you caught your breath.
He fell backwards, his arm no longer able to hold him up. You rolled off to the side, your head tucked into his shoulder and the pessimistic part of you wondered if that would be the last time, if either of you were strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship.
You swallowed roughly and looked up at him, only to find him staring at the suitcase in the corner of the room.
"Are you okay?" you whispered, and he quickly tore his eyes away to give you a smile.
"'Course I am," he said, rubbing your back reassuringly. But what he really wanted to say was please don't go.
You gave your mom a big hug, swaying back and forth as your dad put your luggage in the back of Cassie's car.
"Take care of yourself, Bucky," your mom said, giving your forehead a kiss.
"I will, Mom," you promised. You turned to your dad, who had made his way back to your side.
"Alright, kid," he said, pulling you into his chest roughly. You grinned and wrapped your arm around his sizable midsection. "Call me when you land, alright?"
"Sure thing," you said, pulling back.
"And I mean call, don't be textin' me, I wanna hear your voice," he said sternly, and you nodded.
You heard a car coming up the driveway and your chest squeezed tight. Your mom must have seen it on your face because she gave you one more hug and whispered encouragement against your hair before she ushered your dad back inside.
"I'll be in the car," Cassie mumbled. She was still annoyed with you, but she wasn't the type to be cruel about it.
You heard a familiar voice call out your name and you turned around just in time to catch Sarah's embrace.
"I can't believe you're really leaving," she said sadly against your shoulder. You looked at Joel as he slowly walked up behind her.
"I know, but it's been so much fun. I want to thank you for everything. I had such a great time with you," you told her, pulling back. "I really mean it, okay?"
"Yeah, me too," she said with a smile. "And I'll see you again in a month, right?"
"Right! It's not that long, it'll be here before you know it," you told her, the lie slipping right past your lips.
She finally stepped back, looking at her dad and then back at you before telling Joel she would wait in the car.
You looked up at him, the tears welling in your eyes now, unable to hold them back any longer.
"Don't cry," he whispered, pulling you close. He closed his eyes and felt you sob quietly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping his coat so tightly, like you were afraid to let him go.
"I stole your shirt," you said, your voice muffled. He chuckled and shook his head.
"That's alright, sweetheart, it's yours," he said.
Stepping back, you looked up at him. You could tell he was sad but trying to be strong for you, and for some reason, it broke your heart. Joel spent so much of his life being strong for everyone else around him, it wasn't fair.
He knew if he asked, you would stay. But that wouldn't be right. As badly as he wanted you to stay, not only for him, but for Sarah, he couldn't do that to you. He wouldn't put that choice on your shoulders and risk you making a decision you would eventually regret and hold against him. So, he let you go. Only this time, he hoped that history wouldn't repeat itself and you would come back to him.
The drive back home was quiet. The radio was on, but neither of them really heard it. Sarah stared glumly out the window while Joel tried his best to keep it together, telling himself over and over that the long-distance thing would work. If it failed for other people, it was because they weren't as strong or devoted. He knew what he felt, and what you had together was worth fighting for.
"Are you still going to take me to Katy's?" Sarah asked. Joel blinked and looked over at her.
"What?"
"Remember? We have that science project together, we need to have it done before end of Christmas break," she said, and he nodded as it began to come back to him.
"Yeah, sure. I can drop you off on my way home," he said quietly.
Sarah looked at him for a moment in silence, worry etching her face.
"Maybe I should stay home today," she said, but Joel shook his head.
"I'm fine, I should meet up with Uncle Tommy, anyway. We're behind on a job."
"Dad," Sarah said, and he turned to look at her as he approached a red light. "You're not fine."
Joel's mouth opened and then closed, unsure what to say.
"Why didn't she want to stay?" Sarah asked. Joel swallowed the lump in his throat.
"She's got a life in New York, baby girl. I can't ask her to stay."
"You didn't even ask her?!" she exclaimed, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.
"'Course I didn't ask her-"
"Dad!" Sarah screeched, and Joel jumped in his seat.
"Calm down! I'm tryin' to drive!" he yelled as he pulled down Katy's street.
"Did you tell her that you love her?"
Joel frowned at her as he pulled into the driveway.
"How did-"
"Oh my god, Dad! You are hopeless!" she said, exasperated. She opened the door and slid out of the seat but turned back to him before she shut the door.
"Go get her, Dad."
Joel was a cautious man. He was responsible. He had a level head and kept to himself. He wasn't a risk taker, he didn't speed, and he definitely didn't dramatically chase down women in airports, yet today he found himself doing exactly all of those things.
He had parked his truck in a spot he was very certain he shouldn't have parked in as he raced into the building, his eyes flicking across the departure screens before heading up to the counter.
"How can I help you?" a young, blonde woman asked, giving him her best customer service smile.
"I need to speak to someone on one of your flights, it's an emergency, and she's gettin' on a plane in-" he yanked his arm up to look at his watch. "Ten minutes. I need you to call the gate and ask them-"
"Sir, I am so sorry, we can't do that," the woman replied, cutting him off. Joel squinted at her name tag and looked back up at her.
"Teresa. Please. I am beggin' you, please pick up the phone and call the gate."
"We cannot hold up a flight, sir. Can't you just call her and ask her to-"
"I tried! She ain't pickin' up, she probably has her phone off already for the damn flight," he said, his heart hammering in his chest as he rubbed his palms aggressively over his face.
"If you buy a ticket, you can get past security and maybe you'll be able to reach the gate in time," she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes filling with hope.
"I'm not supposed to tell people that," she added softly as she typed into the computer. "Don't make me regret it."
"Thank you!" he whispered, pulling out his wallet and paying for the cheapest ticket they had. Once she handed him the ticket, he took off running towards the gates.
"Good luck!" Teresa called after him, leaning over the counter.
He checked the board ten times. Gate 52. He was sure of it.
He ran up just in time to see the plane backing away from the building, the door sealed shut. He stood there, his forehead resting against the window as he watched your plane leave.
What a stupid idea. He never should have done this. What was he thinking? This is real life. Of course he wouldn't catch you in time, and even if he did, you wouldn't have stayed. It would have just put you and him through more pain, and for what? Just so he -
"Joel?"
He swore in that moment, all the air left his body. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He thought he imagined it, that he was so far-gone that he was blurring fantasy with reality. But when he finally turned around, he saw you actually standing there, clutching your carry on in one hand and your phone in the other, tears streaming down your face.
"I couldn't do it," you whispered, your lower lip trembling.
"You stayed," he said in disbelief, his voice cracking as he rushed over and pulled you into his chest. You didn't leave me. You didn't leave Sarah.
"Why?" he asked. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he furiously wiped it away, still clutching you against him.
"The whole ride here, it felt like I was leaving a piece of me in that driveway, and I just kept asking myself what was I even going back for? What was left for me, besides my job?" you sniffled into his coat before continuing. "I guess sometimes people do crazy things for the person they love."
He pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, his mouth crashing down on yours. You dropped your carry on and wrapped your arms around his neck, your tears mingling together as both of you refused to break away.
"I love you, too," he said, finally stepping back but still holding onto you as a wide smile spread across his face.
You giggled and tried to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks.
"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he asked. "I tried callin' you, I couldn't get through. I thought you were on the damn plane."
"I was on the phone with my boss. I told him I quit," you said with a grin. "I had this whole speech planned, but all I managed to get out was I needed to stay in Texas. We are still working out all the details, but long story short, they offered me a fully remote position."
Joel was convinced the smile was never going to leave his face.
"Take me home, Joel," you told him. He pressed one more gentle kiss against your lips before draping an arm around your shoulders, picking up your bag, and leading you back the way he came.
As you walked out of the airport, the rest of your luggage unfortunately on its way to New York City, he realized that his fantasy was actually coming true. He had everything he could ever want. Everything he ever dreamed of became reality right before his very eyes.
He finally belonged to somebody who would be there for him and his daughter. Somebody who loved them and chose them and didn't abandon them.
And now that he had you, he was never going to let you go.
Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x reader#joel x reader smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#pedro pascal#the last of us game#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#hallmark christmas movies#hallmark#christmas#joel miller christmas
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I have a Yandere idea for you, if you want of course!❤️ How about a yandere who is rejecting his love for the reader or in denial, and as a form of escapism creates a doll identical to the reader, maybe it started small, like him creating beautiful dresses to the reader doll, or sleeping together, eating together, maybe even giving the reader doll a kiss while his shadow critically analyzes the situation... Meanwhile he keeps bothering the reader, or teasing or trying to do all sorts of things, like flirtations that he may have practiced with his doll with the reader, giving sweets that he prepared..
tw - stalking, obsession, and disturbing themes.
wait that's so scaramouche coded actually,,, nonetheless we persist.
it's just such a show of pure, uncensored, incurable desperation. they want you, but they can't have you, so they have to settle for an imitation - cold and lifeless, sure, but as close to the real thing as they can get (well, before they're finished renovating your future bedroom/holding cell, at least). they took good care of little you, too - changing your clothes twice a day, cuddling you at night, kissing your forehead when the real you's done something that makes them want to throw doll you across the room. it's funny, how similar the list of things that can break porcelain is to the list of things that can break bone. it's good practice. they lasting they'd ever want to do is hurt their darling love, no matter which form you might come in.
the doll's good for practicing other things, too. they'd never know how to talk to someone like you in-person, so they practice on the doll, doing their best to stringing along a conversation and trying not to care that the only response they get is a glassy-eyed stare. they'd like to have a little experience under their belt by the time they actually bring you home, so they practice going over the list of rules they've drawn up with little you, walking through your daily schedule, trying miniature versions of the, uh, ""accessories""" they've bought ahead of your arrival to make sure they're all as cute as they imagined. admittedly, sometimes their activities veer into less-than-wholesome territory, but they try to catch themself before they can fall into the subsequent shame-spiral, to remind themself that this is a form of practice, too. they want to be able to take care of you - in every way you might need to be taken care of.
it is really so bad to vent a little frustration out on your temporary replacement, in the meantime?
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Mars in the Houses
In astrology, Mars represents energy, drive, and passion. Its placement in the houses of a natal chart reveals where and how you exert your energy and assert your will.
Mars in the 1st House
When Mars is in the 1st house, it infuses your personality with vigor and assertiveness. You have a strong drive to assert yourself and take initiative. This placement often indicates a bold, energetic, and sometimes impulsive nature. You are not afraid to take risks and stand up for yourself.
Mars in the 2nd House
With Mars in the 2nd house, your energy is directed toward financial security and material possessions. You are motivated to work hard to earn money and acquire assets. This placement can also indicate a competitive attitude towards wealth and a desire to assert control over your resources.
Mars in the 3rd House
Mars in the 3rd house suggests a dynamic and assertive communication style. You are quick-witted, direct, and sometimes argumentative. Your mind is active and restless, and you have a strong drive to share your ideas and knowledge. This placement can also indicate a love for travel and exploration.
Mars in the 4th House
When Mars occupies the 4th house, it brings energy and drive into your home and family life. You are protective of your loved ones and can be quite assertive in family matters. This placement may also indicate a strong desire to renovate or improve your living space.
Mars in the 5th House
Mars in the 5th house enhances your creativity, passion, and desire for pleasure. You have a strong drive to express yourself through artistic endeavors, romance, and recreation. This placement often indicates a love for sports, games, and any activities that bring joy and excitement.
Mars in the 6th House
With Mars in the 6th house, you channel your energy into work, health, and daily routines. You are industrious, efficient, and have a strong drive to improve your skills and productivity. This placement may also indicate a competitive nature in the workplace and a proactive approach to health and fitness.
Mars in the 7th House
Mars in the 7th house influences your partnerships and relationships. You seek dynamic and energetic partners and are often assertive in your interactions. This placement can indicate a tendency towards passionate, and sometimes contentious, relationships. You thrive on challenges and may seek partners who push you to grow.
Mars in the 8th House
When Mars is in the 8th house, it intensifies your drive for transformation, intimacy, and shared resources. You have a strong desire to delve deep into the mysteries of life and may be drawn to issues of power and control. This placement often indicates a passionate and sometimes intense approach to sexuality.
Mars in the 9th House
With Mars in the 9th house, your energy is directed towards higher learning, travel, and philosophical pursuits. You are adventurous and have a strong desire to expand your horizons. This placement often indicates a love for travel and a quest for knowledge and truth.
Mars in the 10th House
Mars in the 10th house brings drive and ambition to your career and public life. You are highly motivated to achieve your professional goals and are not afraid to assert yourself in your chosen field. This placement often indicates strong leadership qualities and a desire for recognition and success.
Mars in the 11th House
When Mars occupies the 11th house, your energy is directed towards social causes, friendships, and group activities. You are passionate about your ideals and motivated to make a difference in your community. This placement often indicates a proactive approach to networking and social involvement.
Mars in the 12th House
Mars in the 12th house can indicate a more subtle or hidden expression of energy. You may have a strong drive to explore your inner world and unconscious mind. This placement often suggests a need to channel your energy into spiritual or artistic pursuits and can indicate a strong desire for solitude and reflection.
©️kleopatra45
#astrology community#astroblr#astrology#astrology readings#astrology tumblr#astro notes#zodiac#astrology observations#houses in astrology#mars#mars in the houses
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Sweet Like Sugar ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི COD MASTERLIST
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི pairings: simon riley x (afab) reader
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི Summary: Trying to advertise your bakery is particularly difficult, especially when no one seems to want to try anything new lately, still stuck in their old ways. Thankfully, a particular masked man is also particularly fond of the tea you make along side your signature pastries.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི WC: 2.5k
part two part three
You’ve grown up in Wales nearly your entire life, living not too far from a fresh farm and yet so close to a little town you call home. The weather is typical for Britain, always a little dreary though sometimes the sun would shine so bright the grass on these hills looked like those in the movies. You’d run up those hills as a child, laughing as the sheep would make noises after your every whim.
Today was particularly dreary though; the sun struggled to peek through even with the large gaps between each cloud, only leaving behind a desolate grey on the town. It was your turn to take over the shop for the day, seeing as your parents were out of town on business details. A few named your shop to be ‘the littlest around’, since it wasn't exactly the biggest area nor did many know of it. After all, it had only opened recently after the last owner left their business to rot out. It took practically months to renovate the dusty walls of this shop even more so that your family were on a tight budget. However your parents believed in it and so did you.. or you thought you did anyway. Maybe you had watched too many movies as a kid because this business was definitely not booming, infact you had spent the majority of the past week trying to advertise the best you possibly could.
Either way, it was bound to be quiet today so you decide you may as well use it as a testing day. The menu was finalised already however you were eager about one thing to add, a selection of freshly brewed teas. It wasn't the most viable since it required a lot of customers at the same time in order to taste the actual freshness— otherwise it’d just go cold and icky. Placing the portable burner down— something you picked up since most days used to be spent in a caravan— you place a pot atop and light the flame. You had not travelled very far, but due to your grandparent who was particularly interested in plenty of cultures, you picked up a few handy recipes for delicious teas.
Unfortunately, you didnt have much on you today after using your last stock on the small opening party. So, you’d have to make do with what you had. You hum as you boil the water in the pan, before slowly adding the milk and some spices— cardamon and cinammon to be exact. It’d make a rich flavour which was perfect with the right amount of sugar, and so, you let it brew as you hummed, debating whether you were allowed to play your favourite tunes here or not.
Seeing as no one had showed up in a while, you plug your phone into the speaker system, letting a soft song play throughout the little patisserie as you grin and nod your head along. What you hadnt expected was the bell above the door to jingle, heavy boots dragging against the wooden floor as they grow louder. You snap your head up, looking a little startled before you quickly stand infront of the counter again, putting on your best sheepish smile.
“Welcome! What can i get for you today?”
The strange man wears a balaclava over his face, his eyes showing and a few tufts of blonde peeking out the back as he bends a little to look over all of the pastries available. Eventually he stops, pointing at one the sausage rolls, before his gruff voice finally breaks his silence. “Two o’ these.”
You nod quickly, grabbing a paper bag before carefully placing the two pastries inside and sealing the bag.
“Actually, since it’s a weekday, all the pastries come with a dessert or drink. Is there any one you would like?”
You tilt your head, as you place the bag on the counter, already tapping in the current bill. He pauses and glances over at the sweeter desserts, but even you could tell just from his appearance that he doesnt seem to be too fond of them. Instead, his height allows him to easily peek over the counter and he can instantly smell the pot of rich cardamom tea brewing. “Is that for sale?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you can only tell from how the mask lifts a little. You pause, wondering if you really should be giving them out to customers just yet.
“It’s a taster really.. would you like to try?” He lets out a grunt in agreement and you walk back over, ladeling a creamy cup of the tea for him before stepping over to him once more.He taps his card down for the items he bought, taking the steaminf cup in his hand but he doesnt intend to drink it and reveal his face— clear from the way he glances around the shop. “Is it always this quiet or are you about to close?” He raises a brow, wondering if he had just accidentally forced you to stay open longer than you should. Your hands wave in front of you frantically as you shake your head. “No! No— um, it’s been a little hard to promote business recently. We only opened last month..” Today you decide not to mention that last weeks rain had nearly drowned the entire shop floor, instead just giving him another sheepish look. “I’m trying to look for any opportunities we can to show off our bakes. I’ve been looking at fairs recently.” You hum and he nods, before lifting his mask without a second thought and sipping down the hot tea you made him. “You should promote this aswell, i can see this tasting good with a dessert.” He offers his advice and you nod readily, smiling at him since he just indirectly said that the tea was good. “Well, i’ll make sure to have lots more flavours too!
A month later and unsurprisingly your family’s little shop isnt any more popular than the last time you took charge of it. That strange man appeared a few times afterwards but you hadnt seen him, busy with your own part time job to try and bring some extra income in. Today you were finally back though, the peak of winter hitting like a shock but it didnt stop the excitement brimming through the town.
At the start of December each year, the town would host a market in the main plaza, which was particularly big for the town’s size. There was everything from crafts and fresh fruit, flowers and trinkets to the toastiest hot chocolate and clothing. This year you were determined to make your mark, selling sweet pastries and the spiced at the same time. He did say it’d draw in at least a bit of attention, so right? Well, you sure hoped so because you were using a portion of your personal savings to try again with the tea. You’d never know if you didn't try, and in the worst case scenario you could give it for free to the other vendors as a sign of good sportsmanship— maybe you could even trade! You grin eagerly as you set up the stand, glass covers above all your decorated pastries, sweet and savoury waiting to be bitten into. Perhaps you went a little overboard with the baking but this was a big event—even neighbouring towns travelled here!
The fair kickstarts around five thirty, the time when most get off work and so many are already flocking to find something for their hungry stomach. You practically bubble with excitement when you get your first three orders, only to turn and see the hot burrito stall’s queue which looks like it’d shadow your stall next. With a small frown, your demeanour drops as the orders only get rarer, a few commenting on not being sure to try something so exotic. About tea. Literal chai. Customer service was not for the weak clearly, since you had to restrain yourself from lunging over the table right then and there, giving the lady a forced smile before she walked off. You let your head rest in your hands, groaning a little too loudly, but it wasnt like anyone was even close enough to your stall to hear anyway. The only thought that consumed you was frustration; you knew damn well that all the bakes here were delicious, that the recipes were to die for and the tea was an absolute soother for any cold or strain. Though, no matter how hard you tried no one seemed to want to hear you out.
“Are you taking a break?”
A voice rings out, gruff, a little muffled and stern but most of all— familiar. Finally your eyes snap up, meeting the gaze of that stranger from before, well now he looked entirely different. “You… from before.. you’re a soldier?!” You have to forcefully lower your voice before you cause his ears to bleed through his balaclava. He was decked out in full tactical gear, apart from the weapons of course and the helmet held in the crook of his elbow. Though not just him, an entire team of soldiers aswell who surrounded your stall, practically brimming with excitement at the tasty baked goods they’d finally try.
“Finished a day long training in the cold. Thought i’d bring ‘em to your stall for a break. You dont look good yourself though” He bluntly states the last part out, already suspecting that you’d sigh next. “Orders are still slow...” You murmur, and he nods, as if he’d expected that. Before either of you can speak, one of his soldiers perks up, “Miss, how much would it be for two of these pie slices and one of your sausage rolls?”
Your lips part in surprise and you hurry to the till, typing in the amounts before announcing the price to him. The reasonable cost of your goods and the great quality is enough to catch the attention of his teammates, and soon enough you have them lined up waiting to buy their share too.
You cough to get his attention the queue finally draws to a blank and he slowly approaches as you gesture to the pots of tea steaming beside you. The soldiers had taken the majority of your stock, even asking for refills but one large cup was saved for him. “On the house, for a regular.” You say cheekily and he nods, the sides of his mask creasing up into what you think could possibly be a smile. “So, how did you even convince your boss to let you bring your whole team here anyway? I always thought those ‘sergeant’ people were like.. really strict.” He chuckles at you, deep and gruff and for a second you’re confused, tilting your head at him. “Hey— what’s so funny? I’m being serious!” He finally stops, his eyes crinkled slightly as he looks back at you. “I’m their Lieutenant.” ” He says still with that monotone voice and your jaw practically drops, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as you groan loudly. “I’m very sorry..”
Now sitting upon the benches, they chatter amongst themselves whilst others eye the other trinkets available, looking for something for the loved ones back home. The man with the skull mask still stands nearby though watching you fill up a cup full of the tea before handing it to a customer.
“Do you take large orders too?” He finally pipes up, glancing over at you with that filled cup still in his hand. “Well.. we don't have any official set up..” Being his acquaintance was a severe exaggeration, and yet you couldn't stand to disappoint him right now. Especially seeing as much as he’s done so far,perhaps not intentionally, but what intrigues you even more is that his soldiers seemed to be over the moon about your pastries. You hadn't really thought about the fact soldiers are probably dying for the taste of a good home cooked pastry, especially in the winter months, and now it seems like this could really boost your business.
“But..I could just give you my number?” Putting that forward seems a bit odd, but in truth you were being completely innocent about it even if he seems to believe otherwise, smirking beneath the mask before he nods. He takes his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and hands it over to you before gesturing to you to do the same. When you receive your phone back, you see the new contact, ‘Lieutenant Ghost (sausage roll)’ and snicker a little, you’re pretty sure you can remember him without the assistance but it’s amusing anyway. “I’ll text you later regarding any big orders we want to make.”
He gives you another nod and you quickly agree with his words, grateful for the opportunity he’s provided you with.
“Thanks for bringing all your soldiers here.. i dont think we would’ve garnered this much attention otherwise.” People had already noticed the brand on the soldiers' cups and bags, making their way to the stall and eyeing some of the goods left from their rampage. He only shrugs, ignoring the fact he had any part in this. “By the way..” You hum, glancing at the untouched tea in his hand curiously. “Why haven't you drank any yet— it’ll grow cold soon.” He leans against your table slightly before he just nods firmly again, looking back at the crowds. “Dont like to show my face.” That makes you blink, confused since he had easily shown you in the shop a month ago when he tried it for the first time. “But—“
Before you can answer, his phone buzzes and he glances down before beckoning his group over. “Oi, all of you. We’re leavin’ in ten— do not make us late.” Suddenly you dont feel at all bad for calling him strict earlier, even snickering a little at how stern his voice had suddenly gotten even if he’s usually monotone to you too. The soldiers eyes grow wide and they quickly jump to buy the rest of their things making you snicker.
“Guess that’s the last I'll see of you, ‘Lieutenant’. See you soon.” You grin, waving as he throws the now empty cup in the trash— when did he drink that? He lifts a hand to give a short wave at you too before stepping away to join the rest of his men. “Dont worry, you will.”
That night you’re left dumbfounded as you stare at your phone, the text lighting your eyes up in the darkness of your room. ‘Tomorrow night is the second day of the fair, right?’ The first part reads, and you mentally nod, remembering how your parents said you’d take the first day and they’d handle the second. When you responded with a yes, but also clarifying your stall is also available, he wrote back one more text.
‘Good. I’ll be taking you around with me this time.”
PART TWO PART THREE
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x you#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#archive of our own#cod fluff#cod mw ghost#cod fanfic#cod x reader#ghost cod#!pinksheepfics
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am in a certain type of mood and wanna write something cosy and nice so:
Retired!Price (Husband) Headcanons
Retired!John who retired surprisingly early after a botched mission forced him to take medical leave and then he just... couldn't go back to work.
Retired!John who has finally gotten the opportunity to change his style and has experimented with many styles of facial hair (including a thick caterpillar mustache!).
Retired!John who, despite still staying so active, eats more and better, and sleeps more and better, and begins gaining a bit of weight, gaining a wonderful dad bod and a nice layer of fat on his hard muscles.
Retired!John who goes to a veteran support group at a local community centre.
Retired!John who definitely started a vegetable/fruit garden in the back of your house.
Retired!John who has taken up baking and is surprisingly very good at it, especially at baking sourdough bread.
Retired!John who volunteers to become the coach for the local children's rugby team.
Retired!John who gets a big fluffy dog for you (Husky, German Shepherd, etc) so that he has an excuse to stay active and fit by taking it on walks.
Retired!John who takes up home improvement and DIY and feels surprisingly at home in hardware shops.
Retired!John who only ever gets up early on Valentine's day, your birthday and your anniversary to go buy you fresh pastries from the bakery down the road, or fresh flowers from the florist.
Retired!John who renovates the house with you, moves furniture around at your request, gets all the paint samples you could wish for from the shop, and works on making your house a home.
Retired!John who sometimes gets into a food coma after eating a nice Sunday roast and falls asleep in his recliner with the dog at his feet.
Retired!John who hugs you tight with his big burly arms and buries his face on your neck, kissing you so sweetly.
Retired!John who holds you close to him on cold winter nights and rainy afternoons as you snuggle together on the couch.
Retired!John who runs hot at night and makes it so you have your own personal heater and weighed blanket as he drapes his body over yours and cuddles you all night.
Retired!John who takes you on all the holidays you wish for and introduces you to places he's gotten to travel to while on the job.
Retired!John, whose favorite thing about being retired is his ability to spend time with you.
#ikea writes 💚#masterlist#headcanon#captain john price#cod headcanons#141 headcanons#price headcanons#john price#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price
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