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murdrdocs · 8 months

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WHERE YOU ARE. luke castellan

description. almost a year after you and luke breakup, you find yourself in his embrace once more to scratch an itch you can't reach yourself.

includes. SMUT 18+, exes hooking up, fem!coded reader, unprotected p n v, outdoor sex, both r and luke have major attitudes, r is claimed but not specified, a little angsty (they're exes cmon what did u expect), takes place during tlt but no major plot points mentioned; title and inspiration from sunshine by steve lacy

wc: 4.2k+

a/n: as mr steve lacy said, "still will give you dick anytime you need!". ao3 link

There is an itch you can’t scratch.

It’s been there for almost exactly a year, persistent and reminding you of what you’ve been lacking since last summer. You’ve attended to it time and time again, digging into it with all of your might, only to be left semi-satisfied. Never left with lazy eyes, relaxed limbs, and a far away want to do it all over again once you recovered.

The blame for your lack of satisfaction is placed on your chosen partners.

Humans, all either far too eager to please or not eager enough. Either too cocky and overconfident, or lacking any and all confidence at all.

They got between your legs, did the job, but never well enough. They never did it like he did.

And for the past year, specifically the past few months, you’ve been trying to ignore it. Day by day, when you were forced to coexist with your ex, you attempted to push the feeling to the side. You instead focused on the heat on your skin and the gravity pushing large droplets of uncomfortable sticky sweat down your body, ignoring the way sweat made his skin shine. You buried yourself in work, taking up chores offhandedly mentioned by Mr. D, especially if they would get you away from group settings.

But then, in the solitude of mindless duties, you had nothing to do except think about Luke Castellan.

His dark curly hair. His even darker eyes. The way his rounded face had become more chiseled since last summer. The sound of his laughter and the smell of his shampoo. The feeling of his hands on your hips and your waist and your ass and especially between your thighs.

At the end of the night, you would always fall back and spend a little extra time in the showers, bringing yourself to orgasm after orgasm with hopes that eventually one would give even half of the amount of satisfaction a single orgasm from Luke would.

Clearly, with the way you’re watching him from across the dining hall with wide eyes, it hasn’t been working.

“You’re staring.” The pointed voice of your sister next to you breaks you out of your stupor.

You’re quick to avert your eyes to your plate instead, finding that your food had been picked over, conformed from its original shape and placed in a few different spots so your plate appears as if it’s overflowing instead of losing its contents.

You don’t bother saying anything in response, instead shoveling a fork full of brisket into your mouth.

“Just two more days. You can last until then,” she reassures you.

You’re not sure if you could.

ㅤ

Only a few minutes later were you sliding almost all of your food into the fire, completely ignoring the rumbling in your stomach.

Please.

The rest of your brisket glides into the fire.

Just give me one more time.

Your cheese and bread join it.

That’s all I ask for.

In goes the fruit and then your plate is empty.

Someone steps up beside you and you’re about to leave anyway, so you pay them no mind. Not until they speak to you.

“Hey.”

Gods, it’s almost pathetic how the simple greeting makes you feel.

Suddenly, the waving flames of the fire in front of you is the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen.

“Hey.”

“What’d you give up?”

Has his voice always sounded like that? Suddenly it’s … deeper. Granted, the last time you spoke to him alone was a year ago. Both of you have matured since then, but in some ways you’re still stuck in your old nature.

“Fruit. Bread. Brisket. The usual.”

Even though the conversation is extremely lackluster, you find yourself wanting it to continue. You want to speak to him more.

Luke hums and it’s only then that you look at him.

He’s turned to face you now, holding an empty plate in his hand and you wonder: when had he given his offering up? Surely you should have seen it since the fire was all you could focus on during the last minute. Really, you just weren’t taking in any information at all save for the addicting sound of Luke’s voice.

“And what did you ask for?” His eyebrows lift, his tongue darts out to glide over his lips for a split second. A brief memory of how nice it’d been to kiss him comes back before you can prevent it.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” You take a step closer to him as you easily fall into this old routine. Tease and tease and throw in a flirtatious tone to beat around the large bush that held a ‘please fuck me’ sign.

“Telling you my prayer is like telling you my birthday wish.”

Luke tilts his head, letting his eyes wander to the side for a second before finding you again. The fire reflects in them, adding a warmth to his eyes you haven’t seen all summer.

He’d been off the past few months, holding a tension in his shoulders and having a clipped-ness to his voice at times. You might be imagining things when you feel as if he’s different—good different—with you.

“Which you used to do all the time.”

You shrug. “It was always things you could do for me. I just wanted my wishes to come true.”

“Oh yeah, like do your chores. All that time I spent scrubbing the bathroom floors for you.”

A grin finds your lips. “It was a good lesson in responsibility. Right, Luke?”

When he rolls his eyes, you notice how there’s no malice behind the action. It’s almost too easy for both of you to fall back into your old pattern.

“Yeah. Sure.” He takes a small step closer to you and if you weren’t so in tune with every detail about him, you wouldn’t have noticed it. “So you gonna tell me what you asked for or not?”

There’s no point in him knowing, other than to intrude on your life. Unfortunately, you don’t mind the intrusion.

You stare at him a little while longer, your eyes flickering back and forth between his. Every so often, you let your gaze fall to his lips, only to bring it back up to his eyes like nothing ever happened.

For a second, you pretend to think about it, falsely balancing his proposal before deciding.

“I’m good. See you around, Luke.”

When you return to your table and sit next to your sister, she has the kindness to not say anything about your prolonged absence for only a few moments.

Then, “Am I covering for you?”

You delude yourself into believing she won’t have to for a few seconds. And then you catch Luke’s eye from across the dining hall and you sigh.

“Yeah.”

ㅤ

“Knew you weren’t over me.”

You stop walking at his words, shoes thudding against the grass. The thunderous roar of the waterfall covers any other possible sound you could’ve created, but Luke never needed to hear you to know when you were approaching. It was a weird intuition thing you never understood.

“Hello to you too, Luke.”

He turns around to face you, and as expected, he’s wearing a smirk. His arms are crossed over his chest, he’s no longer sporting his camp tee, having replaced the bright orange material with a deep blue hoodie instead. Practically everything about him screams relaxed, his gray sweatpants adding to the ambience that his aura creates—one that says he knew you were going to meet him tonight.

“We’re way past formal greetings at this point, don’t you think?” He turns back to face the waterfall in front of him when you join his side. “You never used to greet me before.”

“Things change.”

“Yet you’re still out here. That could only be for one reason.”

You shrug, folding your own arms over your chest. You have nothing to do with your hands yet, and you’ve been flexing them impatiently with anticipation.

“Maybe I wanted to stargaze. Who knows.”

Luke doesn’t say anything.

In your peripheral vision, you can see him staring up at the sky, presumably stargazing like you falsely claimed you were doing. You try to do the same, picking out a few easily recognizable constellations you knew. But it’s only a minute later that you’re caving.

“Okay.”

You turn to face Luke.

He does the same.

He’s brought a lantern out here and it sits on the ground in front of you both, bright enough to illuminate the side of his face with an orange-yellow glow.

“Okay?” he asks for clarification.

Your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip for a second as you mull over your words. After tonight, there’s only one more night of camp left, and then you won’t be seeing Luke for another year. There’s almost no repercussions for laying it all out now, dropping your poorly built guard to get what you’ve been craving for a year now.

“I’m not out here to fucking stargaze.” You sound exasperated as you admit it.

Luke paints a picture of faux shock on his face. He gasps, splaying a hand out over his chest as his eyes widen. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

Really, his attitude is starting to get on your nerves.

Your temper flares and you suddenly understand the rage and frustration Clarisse always inhabits.

“Don’t be a dick.” You try to manifest the negative feelings taking over your mind when you speak, but your tone betrays you. The command comes out too soft to change anything. Too gentle to be real.

“Thought you liked it when I was a dick?”

Something you’d told him in confidence last year. Confidence and drunken delusion. The shameless way you were grabbing at his clothes at the time clearly showed your inebriation.

“Gods, Luke, would you just stop talking and kiss me already?” You take the step closer to him, finally entering his space to get what you want. What you’ve literally been dreaming about for the past year.

He stops for a second, his eyes flitting to your lips once, twice, and just when you think he’s about to kiss you, his lips part for a different reason.

“You also liked it when I ta–”

You do it yourself.

You expect him to hesitate before giving in, but his response is quick.

Hands at your hips pulling you closer to him. His head tilting to the side so he can deepen the kiss just enough. His tongue wastes no time entering your mouth, pressing against your own tongue which allows you to taste the slightly off flavor of the root beer he’d had earlier in the night.

Just like everything else had gone tonight, you two found the rhythm easily.

You let Luke lead, pressing your chest into his, arching your back when his palm rests right above your ass.

He kisses you like he wants more, a little over eager as the tip of his nose presses into your cheek with a little too much pressure. And he could take more, you’re offering it to him with the way your hands slide under his sweatshirt and press against his bare abdomen, fingers tracing his abdominal muscles. Luke just refuses to take it. He refuses to go the extra step.

You huff against his lips, eyebrows furrowing in vexation.

Luke pulls back from you first. He stares down at you, unmoving, not saying anything and when your brain is clouded like this, you don’t have it in you to try and decipher the storm in his dark eyes.

When your brain is clouded like this, all you can think to do is speak.

“And for what it’s worth, I’m over you. I’m just not over…” you trail off, not really feeling like a conclusion is necessary to communicate exactly what you’re missing.

Luke’s laugh is more like a sharp inhale. He cups your cheek with one hand. “And that’s a part of me, angel.” The pet name sounds almost villainous coming from his lips now. It’s too heavily dipped in confidence, dripping with sour arrogance.

If you weren’t so horny, you would be turned off at the sound of it. At least, that’s what you convince yourself. But there’s very little that Luke could do to turn you off.

Instead of dwelling on it, you lean back up and press your lips to Luke’s again.

This time, Luke kisses you how you expected.

He’s rough, lacking politeness and a little bit of coordination. His hands grip at your ass, pinching the fabric of your pajama bottoms and the fabric of your panties between them. There’s lots of tongue and even more spit, a few moments where your teeth knock into each other’s.

Now that he’s participating how you want him to, there’s not much anticipation.

Your long sleeve tee is thrown over your head and placed at your feet, the same treatment goes for Luke’s sweatshirt. Your hands glide along each other’s bodies yearningly. You can’t help but start to feel satisfied with what you’re getting, even though it’s close to nothing.

You’d been wanting to even be in Luke’s vicinity with intentions other than solely platonic—almost professionally—for so long now, so just feeling the weighted heat of his hands on your bare skin is enough to make you sigh.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to end up on the ground, and after a small dispute about who gets to be on top, you end up on your hands and knees, hips wiggling impatiently as you wait for Luke to make the final move. The one to start the end of the beginning.

There’s a few prolonged moments where nothing happens. You’re trying to be patient, busying yourself with chewing on your bottom lip and listening to the soothing sounds of water falling, but you’ve been so empty for so long and you really don’t think you can last any longer.

You look over your shoulder to see Luke sitting on his haunches behind you. Just staring.

He seems to be stuck in a trance, and just when you start to get a little insecure, Luke spits into his hand and runs his fingers down your cunt, reaching back up to probe two fingers into your entrance to the first knuckle.

It’s slightly too much of a stretch all at once, and you wince a little, fingers gripping the strands of grass beneath you.

You think you hear a small apology from him but you can’t tell. Either way, he corrects himself and slowly sinks one finger into your cunt. Already, you’re letting out a drawn out sigh. It comes out more guttural than intended, as if Luke pulled it directly from deep within you as he draws his finger back out, only to plunge it back in.

His fingers scratch along places you haven’t been able to reach on your own. The tip of his digit strokes along a spot you’d been searching for for months, only having found twice on your own. (Both occurrences can be attributed to pure luck … and sheer desperation)

You don’t have to ask for more. Luke pulls the singular digit out and when he pushes back in, you feel the same stretch from before. This time, it’s more expected.

You know to let yourself relax to allow him to continue.

He enters you easily, and he starts to set a pace that hints at his intentions. He isn’t fingering you to prep you anymore, at least that’s not what it feels like he’s doing. His fingers are caressing parts that he only reaches when he wants you to cum. His pace isn’t one of careful leisure. Instead it’s goal searching.

“Luke,” you start without even knowing if there’s a finish intended.

He hums distractedly.

“Fuck me. Please.”

You aren’t above begging at this point. It’s all a means to an end for you.

But you don’t know if it’s the same for Luke.

His free hand comes to your ass and he caresses the flesh in a surprisingly tender way. You watch him lean up, and you watch him pepper kisses along your lower back.

“I’ll get there, angel, promise.”

And it suddenly occurs to you that Luke is taking his time with you. He’s savoring it all.

For a second, the carnal desire melts away to reveal something more raw. The urge you used to feel to just talk to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. The way your insides would flutter when he smiled, or the way everything seemed a little darker when he was down.

Every emotion you’ve been working to get over for the past few months comes back tenfold in this small moment.

And then Luke hooks his fingers and you’re brought back to the more debauched side of your circumstances.

His pace speeds up a little. He introduces his other hand along your clit, singling out two fingers and rubbing wide and slow circles around the bud.

During your nostalgia filled moment, your body had gotten closer to orgasm. Luke only has to pump his digits a few more times and tighten the circles just enough and you’re digging your hands into the dirt, pushing your hips back into his touch, and arching your back as your muscles tense up and you announce your orgasm, only to let go a few moments later.

It’s a little more than pathetic how hard you cum. But you haven’t felt the touch from someone other than yourself in a long time. And you haven’t felt the touch of someone adequate enough to satisfyingly please you in an even longer time.

Your hips twitch back and forth, the muscles in your thighs tense until you ache to relax them, only to repeat the action as waves cascade through your body. Luke is there through it all, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you as he coos gentle words from behind you.

Your head hands low between your shoulders, but you still hear him coaxing you through it.

“That’s it … just let it happen. ‘S it’s a big one. You really did miss me, hm?”

He still sounds smug, but it comes off more affectionately this time. At least, a little less annoyingly.

You’ve barely let yourself calm down from your orgasm before you’re reaching between your thighs blindly, swatting Luke’s hands away and searching for something else entirely.

He chuckles, mumbles something under his breath that is definitely snarky, and you’re immediately swearing.

“Luke, I swear to the fucking Gods, if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll..”

It’s embarrassing how the meeting of his head and your entrance instantly shuts you up. It’s like a pacifier nestling between your lips, not fully settling into your cavern without a few teasing strokes up and down the plane of your cunt first.

But the teasing makes it all so much more worth it. Just the first inch makes your eyes roll back.

It’s so familiar, but in a slightly foreign way. You haven’t had it in so long, but you remember everything you loved about it.

The way his head stretches you out first, and then comes the rest of him, only a few moments of reprieve before you get to the thickest part of him. The way his fingers press into your skin as he sinks in, exercising as much restraint as he could. The way his tip parts you open, scratching parts of you that have been itching for a while now.

He’s bare within you, and if you hone in your senses enough you can feel everything. Every ridge and mountain plane and every vein. The way he’s warm and heavy within you, filling you so well you don’t know how you’ve been empty this long.

It’s like an insatiable hunger has finally been filled.

You don’t know how you’ll ever go back to being without this. Without Luke.

By the time Luke has bottomed out, you’re already attempting to fuck yourself back on him. Luke takes over quick enough, digging his hands into the fat at your hips as he drives into you.

You can feel your ass rippling with each thrust, and you think there’s clapping, too.

Luke is harsh with it, any tender moments you two had during the night are gone, replaced with fierce thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of you with an intensity that tells you he wants to cum as badly as you do.

You have the sudden urge to see his face, to watch his eyebrows pinch together as he cums. You look over your shoulder once more, and sure enough his thick eyebrows are pushed together. His lips glisten in the ambient lighting, pink and plump and parted as he focuses. His eyes don’t leave your ass, trained on where the two of you connect.

Only a few moments later does he notice you’re watching him, and he casts a look up to meet your eyes. His expression doesn’t change, still as concentrated as it was before.

Then he tells you, “turn over”.

You’re quick to comply, barely even having to mourn the brief emptiness before you’re on your back (on the ground but it doesn’t matter at this point) with your legs spread, Luke quickly entering you and resuming his pace.

He leans down, holding your thigh for leverage with one hand and holding himself up beside your head with the other. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close and yours do too.

“‘M close,” he tells you.

Your hand slinks up to dig into his curls, and like this, you’re allowed to reminisce once more.

Not one specific memory finds you, but the position is so well known. It’s so intimate, only becoming more so whenever Luke presses his lips to yours.

It doesn’t cross your mind to tell Luke to pull out. But you don’t want him to.

You need to feel him, all of him, just one more time.

So when Luke spills warm cum inside of you, it’s the highest form of pleasure.

He fucks it into you a little more, a few punctuated thrusts ensuring none of him leaks out, and then the hand on your hip comes between your thighs again. He pulls out, waits, and when you feel something trickle out of you he catches it with two fingers and drags it up to your bud.

“Can you cum for me one more time?” he asks, voice sweet and gentle.

Even if you couldn’t, if you were physically unable to, you would still give it a try if he talked to you like that.

You nod, keeping your eyes pinched shut and licking over your now unoccupied lips.

“Look at me,” Luke commands. “I wanna see you.”

Your eyes peel open. You stare up at Luke. And with two more flicks, you cum.

“Heard you’ve been calling me your ex.”

You shrug as you pull your bottoms over your hips. Your shirt is already on, but you shake it out a little, trying to get rid of dirt remains that somehow found their way into it.

“Yeah. That’s what you are.”

Luke pulls his sweatshirt back over his head before responding. “We both know I’m more than that.”

“You were more than that. Things change, Luke.”

When he meets your eyes, there’s something in his gaze. Maybe remorse?

He licks his lips, shrugs. “They don’t have to. We could go back to how things were before.”

It’s such a tempting proposition, one you laid with for weeks. Watching the sun set and then watching it rise all in one wake, wondering where things went wrong, trying to fix them in your head so you could get it all back. You treated your breakup with Luke like a mission gone wrong, and that’s where you went wrong.

You shake your head a little and start to walk away.

“Goodnight, Luke.”

His hand catches you around the wrist. He stares down at you, gaze hard and serious.

“Hey, anytime you need that. Anytime you need me to give you that, you come find me. Okay?”

Satisfaction flares in your chest as you nod.

ㅤ

By the time the sun has made itself comfortable in the sky, you’re the last one out of bed.

You shower quickly, paying extra attention to your knees to scrub the remnants of dirt off of them, and then you’re at the dining hall for breakfast, sliding up next to your sister with striking bags under your eyes and an alluring glow added to your aura.

She doesn’t say anything for a while and neither do you. Both of you tend to your hunger, slowly setting food into your mouth and savoring the sweetness of the strawberry pancakes.

Only when nothing is left on your plates but your offerings does she speak.

“Covering for you tonight again?”

You don’t hesitate at all when you say, “Yep.”

“You owe me.” She’s trying to come off a little demanding, maybe a little mean. But she looks a little amused. Maybe even happy for you.

Your eyes leave hers to look across the dining hall, finding Luke already looking at you.

When you grin in response, sickly sweet and triumphant, you don’t know if it’s towards her or Luke.

Either way, your reply is the same.

“I love you.”

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #celeste writes misc #luke castellan smut

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scorpioriesling · 14 days

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Invisible String - Part 1

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): light angst, some involving a child being upset. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night as I wait for the poll results from this week's THTH post to come through. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

It was like any other day in the West Wing of the Forest House, this weekday the same as many others you’d experienced here over the past year or so that you’d been employed here. The warm glow of the autumn sun painted the cherrywood floors in an amber glow; so beautiful and red, but nothing compared to the red head of hair that bounded over to you on little legs.

“A picture!” Her sweet voice rang out, and you turned to peer down into those big, round eyes of hers. She smiled up at you, her arms outstretched with a piece of paper at the end of it. You gasped, setting down the butter knife and bending down to her level.

“Oh my goodness Miss Riley,” you said and she beamed, her tiny, four-year-old teeth peeking out from behind her lips as you admired her drawing. It was similar to many you’d received before; a crooked drawing of you, holding hands with a crooked stick drawing of Riley. You knew who was who, of course — she made sure to draw a little crown atop her head, obviously.

“You keep it?” She asked, and you smiled at her, nodding in approval.

“Oh absolutely I’ll keep it! This is a work of art!” You said, and she jumped up and down excitedly, twirling in circles before she eventually got too dizzy and stopped. She hadn’t noticed you’d stood, resuming her lunch preparations as she recentered her gravity.

“Y/N I’m hungryyyyy,” she said, and you smiled softly to yourself, placing the top slice of bread on the sandwich in finality.

“I don’t suppose you’re ready for some lunch, hmm?” You ask, and she races to the dining room, stopping at the edge of her chair and throwing her hands in the air. You set down her plate, rolling your eyes at her silly rituals. She’d done this since you’d begun working for her father, insisting on your help though she was more than capable of needing it now.

“Riley — you know you’re grown enough now to get in your chair—“

“Pleeeeease,” she begs, her arms still above her head. “I like when you make me fly.”

You sigh, smiling as you lift under her arms and place her in her chair, her eyes wide as she takes in the plate before her.

“Ham! Yummm! My favorite; thank you, Y/N!” She says, smiling at you before grabbing her little fork and digging into her sliced peaches. You fold your hands, gazing at the small child in wonder.

“You are very welcome Riley — and very good job remembering your manners.” You praise her, and she continues to eat her food in contentment.

You’d spent the rest of the evening doing many of the same activities you’d do with Riley most evenings; playing dolls, braiding her hair how she liked, walking around the palace. Some days, she would ask to play outdoors — this was one her father was a bit iffy on, but since the day was nice, you figured no harm no foul. After a while in the gardens, you’d gotten Riley down for a nap, braided her hair, played dolls, and were cleaning up dinner when the front door to the West Wing opened.

“Daddy!”

As if on cue, every doll and stuffed animal was abandoned on the living room floor, the sound of little footsteps pattering across the cherrywood in anticipation as quick as the beats of your heart in your chest.

“Bunny,” Eris’ silky soft voice floated through the foyer and you rounded the corner in time to see him scoop his daughter up, her laughter ringing out as he peppered her cheeks with kisses.

“Daddy! Tickles!” Riley laughed, and when he finally relented and set her down, she ran right over to you. His gaze met yours, his professional yet gracious smile meeting yours in greeting.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Hello,” you said. No matter how many times you’d seen him come home, you’d never quite figured out a way of greeting friendly enough, yet still professional, but not too weird to use in front of Riley.

“Daddy, I made a drawing,” Riley beamed. Your heart sank a bit, realizing this repeat situation as if it happened yesterday. She’d drawn you so many photos, so many pictures of you and her together — but the fridge you’d used daily to make lunches, dinners, snacks — it was bare.

“Well, also,” You caught Riley’s arm lightly as you bent to her height, pausing her from running to grab her creation. “We brought in a surprise, right?” You reminded, thinking of the few Honeycrisp apples the two of you had picked earlier for her father from the grove as a surprise. Riley contemplated for a moment, then it looked as though a lightbulb went off in her head and she nodded.

“Daddy — I be right back 'kay,” she rushed out before darting for the kitchen, and Eris chuckled. You stood, picking at your sweater as you watched her run off. When you looked to Eris again, he looked to you in the same moment.

“You have no idea,” he started, pausing as if to find the right words as he stepped further into the room. “How much you being here really helps.” He focused on you then, and you shifted under his intense gaze.

“I mean… I… no where else I’d rather be, right?” You smiled lightly, and Eris loosed a breath, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m actually, really, glad to hear that, uh,” he chuckled. “Well, I um,” he cleared his throat as Riley appeared again in the entryway, hands behind her back and a grin on her face.

“Okay daddy, here is the surprise, okay?” She said. His brows rose, and he crouched down as she stepped closer, finally revealing a leaf, bright red in her little fingers. His mouth opened in shock, and she doubled over in a fit of laughter, Eris watching in admiration. You watched the precious girl, her wild sense of humor even at the age of four. You’d wondered, under his professional exterior, did she get that trait from her father, too?

“Alright my dear,” Eris said finally, standing and picking the girl up to carry in his arms. “It appears that it is your bedtime, hmm?”

You were glad he was here to do it this evening — many nights, if her father wasn’t home, you were the one at the other end of her protests, having to explain away his absences and assure her that he would, and you promised, come kiss her on the head when he got home.

You decided to finish scrubbing the last of the dinner dishes, laying them to dry when footsteps behind you caught your attention.

“You always do more than I’ve ever asked Y/N, seriously. I can’t thank you enough.”

You glanced quickly over your shoulder, trying not to look to long at the Autumn Court heir watching your every move.

“It’s nothing, really — it’s only dishes.”

In a matter of strides, he is beside you, leaning against the very counter you’re working at.

“You know what I mean.” He pauses, looking down before continuing. “I don’t know what Riley…” he sighs. “When Selene left us, I… it was, very tough. On all of us. Riley, she… I don’t know how I could’ve done it without your help.” He says quietly. You silently set down the plate you’d been washing, looking at him with knitted brows.

“Don’t ever feel bad for something someone else has done to you,” You say, your heart clenching at the reminder of his wife — well, ex-wife, you supposed — leaving him just over a year ago. Leaving him behind and her daughter.

Your chest ached.

“She made a poor decision. Riley is a lovely little girl, she’s learning so much, and truly she’s a joy to be around. This job isn’t work, for me; I really, really enjoy spending time with her, Eris. Don’t worry about it.” Your eyes meet his again, and you swear you see silver lining them. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, biting it before turning to face you.

“Live here full time, then.”

You set the plate on the drying rack, reaching for a fork and dunking it into the sink.

“Why would I need to? I’m already here five days a week-“

“But you could be here seven, look — please, at least just for a few months while I settle a few things with the other courts. I just need someone here for Riley in case I’m not here as often, and I will absolutely prepare living arrangements for you, and pay you extra, and-“

“You’re being serious?” You say, your hands stilling in the sink water. Eris stares at you pleadingly. You look down at the water. Sure, you took this job and basically it became your life. Did you have much going on outside this job? No. Was your lease almost up anyways? Yes.

You sigh, taking the fork out and laying it on the drying mat. You wipe your hands on your apron, extending one to Eris. “Fine, it’s a deal-“

He takes your hand, pulling you in and embracing you instead. The thin material of his button down does not leave much to the imagination, every toned muscle beneath…

His hands slowly rub up and down on the small of your back, and you feel your cheeks flushing at the rather intimate contact. You wrap your arms around his neck, his voice nearly inaudible next to your ear as he whispers,

“Thank you.”

:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Within a week, you'd completely uprooted from the ramshackle apartment you'd been renting on the outskirts of the Autumn court and moved yourself into the West Wing. This place felt like more of a home to you anyway, its inviting ambience, the warmth that radiated from the forest surrounding it; the people inside, especially the little girl you'd grown to care so much for over the past year.

"Y/N's moving innnn, Y/N's moving innnnn," Riley sang, skipping down the hallway barefoot in another one of her play-pretend princess dresses. She had a closet full of real gowns, hand-sewn by the seamstresses that worked in the palace themselves -- however, the little girl preferred the itchy costumes to the real ones reguardless.

"I am almost done, I promise, then we will play," you huffed a breath, sweat clinging to your tank top as you crossed the room once more. Eris was gracious to give you your own space, but... so much of it? You weren't used to having a bedroom the size of an entire apartment, let alone one so ornate. Not to mention, one just down the hall from his master room.

You tried not to think too hard about it.

"Y/N! A cookie?" Riley called, and you sighed, looking around at your remaining boxes. You'd just have to tend to them later.

"Riley," you said, rounding the bend and approaching the kitchen where Riley stood near the counter. "It's nearly dinnertime -- you know we can't-"

"Pweeeeease?" She pleads, her round, honey-colored eyes looking to you with such agony. You sigh, scooping her up and sitting her on the counter.

You hang your head between your shoulders, shaking it lowly. "Riley, your father is gonna kill me..."

She squeals in delight, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you close, her little body buzzing with excitement.

"I love you!"

Your heart warms, and you hold her tight, brushing a hand over her soft strawberry-blonde locks. Its moments like these that you wish you could show Eris, your "boss", your "employer" that this job really doesn't feel like work. You truly enjoy what you do, and his daughter is a magical little thing.

"I love you too, Riles." You say, and she releases you, looking over her shoulder toward the jar of red velvet cookies with a mischevious grin. You reach over, taking the lid off and plucking one from the container. Her legs kick against the cabinets in anticipation, soft giggles of glee coming from her as she watches you break it in half before her.

"Start with half, okay?" You say. She nods, taking it from you and immediately putting it in her mouth. You can't help but smile, watching as she motions to the other half.

"Share with you?" She says. You place a hand on your chest at her words, but hold the cookie out to her anyway.

"Riley, that is very kind of you to offer to share with me! Thank you," she takes it quickly nonetheless. "But, I'm not very hungry right now. I think you should have it."

She nods. "Okay." It's devoured in seconds, the only evidence a few crumbs on the counter. Riley giggles as she watches you brush the crumbs into your hand. Her little pointer finger comes to her lips.

"Shhh," she says, and you grin at her. "Don't tell daddy, okay?" You nod in agreement.

"Okay Miss Riley," you say, dusting your hands off over the trash can. "I won't tell him."

You went for another walk around the Forest House, played tea party and braided hair all before dinner that evening, which was proving to be rather intriguing to the little one that day. She watched as you cut carrots, questioned every spice and oil you'd dumped into the pot, and offerred her assistance more than a few times.

"Is butternut squash soup your favorite?" You ask. Riley cocks her head to the side, playing with a loose string on her Princess Belle dress.

"Hmm... no, it's okay though." She decides, and you continue stirring over the stove.

"I wonder what has you so intrigued in cooking this evening?" You ask, and she sighs, sitting on the wodden floor with her legs stretched out before her.

"I want to do something," she groans, and you nod, trying to understand what she is getting at.

"Mhm, what do you mean by that?"

"I want to... can we do something fun tomorrow?" She asks, and you shrug.

"Well, I like to think we have a lot of fun everyday together, wouldn't you say?"

"Yesssss," she lets out an exasperated sigh. "But I want to go somewhere fun with you. Me and you. Oh, and daddy. When is daddy coming home?" She asks. You chew the inside of your cheek, glancing to the wall clock. He'd routinely arrive around or just after Riley's bedtime -- 8 PM. However, since asking you to move in last week, he'd been coming home later and later. It seemed that he really did need your help with whatever he had going on, the gravity of it much bigger than you could understand.

"I'm... not sure, Riles." You answered, and she huffed.

"He's never home to play with me." She frowned, and you glanced down at her.

"Well, that's not true, he-"

"He never even comes home for dinner." She crosses her arms, her angered expression softening a bit. You set down your spoon, tucking your hair behind your ears as you kneel down before the upset child.

"Riley," you say calmly. "Your father just has a lot going on right now sweetheart, okay? I promise he loves you very much-"

You stop talking when you notice a silent tear roll down her cheek, and your heart threatens to break right in half inside your chest. You reach for her, and she turns to putty in your hands, allowing you to pull her close and hold her in your embrace.

"Oh, Riles," you say soothingly. "Please don't be upset sweet girl," you plead. She sniffles, her cheek wet against your skin above your top. You run your fingers along her hair, quietly comforting her until she eventually calms down. She pulls back, looking up at you with her puffy, but dry eyes and it takes everything in you to offer her a smile as your finger brushes lightly against her cheekbone.

"There she is," you say, and she smiles a little. "Miss Riley is back again." She grins, folding her hands in her lap as her gaze locks just beyond your face. She reaches out, her tiny fingers grazing the shell of your ear before her brows knit and she reaches for her own.

"Yours are not... no... you have..." she searches for the right word, the events prior not seeming to matter now that they've passed. You guide her fingers to the top of her ear, and then gesture to yours.

"Pointy," you say. "Your ears are pointy. Mine are different -- they are round." You explain, and she nods, processing the terms.

"Po-in-ty," she says. She looks at your ear again. "Why do you have... uh..."

"Round?"

"R-ou-nd," she continues. "Ears for?" She asks. You smile softly at her, those innocent eyes having no idea the life she has in store for herself to come.

"Because Riley," you explain. "There are different types of people; some people, like your father and-" you stop, not even wanting to approach the subject. "...your father is going to be a King someday. You, well, you are a Princess." She smiles and nods as if this is already a known fact to her.

"Then, there are people like me. I'm just... well, I'm me." You shrug. "I'm just a fae like anyone else." Riley frowns.

"You are a Princess too," she says, and you chuckle.

"No, Riley, only when we play dress up and I borrow one of your crowns. You are the Princess in real life." She stands, her hands on her hips.

"Y/N is a Princess," she says, looking at you eye-to eye. You raise your eyebrows, not knowing where this is going.

"Riley-"

"Princess lives in the castle." Riley says, beginning to jump up and down. You nod, reaching up to turn off the stovetop heat under your surely burnt soup.

"Yes, but-"

"You live in here with me!" She squeals, twirling in circles. You shake your head.

"Riley, I only live here because your dad asked me to move in-"

"Y/N is a Princess! Y/N is a Princess!" She starts chanting. You sigh, making to stand and remove the soup pot from the stove.

"Riley, you are the Princess! There's only one Princess!" You say loudly over her shouting, and she stills, her devilish grin only cause for concern.

"Then... Y/N is a Queen." Riley gasps, her little hand flying to her mouth as though she's just thought of the greatest idea in the world.

"Y/N is the Queen! In a castle! With the Princess! Is me! and, and, and daddy! he's, he's-" she pauses her jumping and chanting, her hand splayed on the wall to catch her breath.

"Ohmygosh I have to go draw-"

"Ohhh no ya don't," you say, setting down her bowl of soup on the table in front of her and plopping her into her chair before she could take off down the hallway. "Dinner first, young lady."

She groans, quickly shoveling soup into her mouth. "Ughhh, okay, fine." She grins, looking sidelong at you. "I will eat your delicious soup, my Queen," she says in a silly victorian accent, and you let out a laugh at her rediculousness. She giggles too, continuing her comedy. "I will eat, and eat and eat, I will eat because I am a Princess, and you are a Queen, and soon, the King will be home, and we won't tell him about the cookie-"

The two of you are too busy giggling furiously over her sillyness that you don't hear the front door swing open, or the footsteps leading inside. It's only when you hear his whiskey-smooth voice that you turn from the dining table, your face flushing at the sight before you. Much to your delighted surprise, the handsome red headed male leaned against the dining room archway had arrived home much earlier today than either of you had expected.

His small smile was his only greeting, his tousled locks and few undone buttons revealing the exhausting day he'd surely had before he said; "I wasn't aware that I had a Princess and a Queen dining at my table tonight?"

:* ✧･ﾟ: *

#acotar #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #acotar smut #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x oc #eris vandaddy #high lord eris #read more #acowar #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin

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hometoursandotherstuff · 5 months

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Believe it or not, this is a farmhouse for sale in Ocala, FL.

The spacey 1981 "Live Oaks" farmhouse sits on 95.97 acres of land. It has 5bds, 8ba, and is priced below it's appraisal value at $8.5M.

I've never seen sculpted brick like this, before, have you? It looks like an angry horse and a screaming face. I guess it's an art piece, but why does it look so violent?

Inside, at first, it looks like a public building. There's a fireplace in the hall.

It's a very large, open space.

I'm very confused- that looks like a reception desk, with a large area in front of the fireplace. Then, this long table is next to the desk. Is it a boardroom? I don't think it's a dining room.

What the hell is it? There's another more direct entrance thru these glass doors.

Wait a minute, that's a bar! See the bottles peeking out on the bottom shelf? This is weird. So, that is like a dining room space.

I think I found the living room. It's carpeted with a fireplace in the corner.

Then in the round glass part of the house, there's a garden.

Plus, a large, half-circle-shaped pool.

Look at this- a full bar with a service window to the glass enclosure.

Another set of doors in the glass enclosure opens to the living area.

It's a big open family room/kitchen.

Beautiful huge cook's kitchen has a double stove, lots of nice quartz counter space and tons of cabinets.

Another set of doors open to a game room. So, the house surrounds the pool/garden area.

These people must love to drink, b/c there's a 3rd bar in here, a retro glass block one. Man, people could trip on that platform it's on.

They don't show any of the bedrooms, but here's one of the baths. Not that nice, but it's big and on an angle. It's hard enough to get into and there's a step.

Now, from the house, there's a path to the horse stables.

It's a very large facility.

Totally set up for horses.

Here's a covered outdoor horse space.

There's also a yard area with a fountain and tennis court.

Here's a nice little pond with a fountain.

Over 90 acres of beautiful land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3707-NW-110th-Ave-Ocala-FL-H34482/2116891938_zpid/

#horse farms #horse estate #equestrian estate #houses #house tours #home tour #unusual homes

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henrikvanderhussy · 4 months

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So I went to Japan and got to stay in a ryokan for a night and definitely did NOT* spend time flailing about how the ryokan in Shadow at the Water's Edge is so accurate

(*lie)

ANYWAY, TIME FOR PICTURES

Apologies for the bad quality/bad framing on some of these. I completely forgot about taking photos until right when we were leaving to catch our train

Our room with tatami mat floors, set up with table for dinner:

LOOK, LOOK IT'S EVEN THE SAME OVERHEAD LIGHT

The table in our room was actually less traditional than the one depicted in SAW. It was raised high enough to accommodate western-style chairs (which I appreciate as someone with knee problems who can't sit cross-legged for long periods of time)

I didn't get a picture with the room changed over for sleep, but the bedding looked identical. And it really does just suddenly appear once it's late enough. The staff come into your room and change it over from dining mode to sleeping mode.

Closets:

The round inset handles!!

Sliding paper doors:

Courtyard garden:

Our ryokan didn't have a bridge, but it's the same stone pillar!

Onsen:

I obviously didn't take any pictures inside the public onsen since it's a bathing area, but it looked a lot like the game! There were even the different colored curtains to designate men's and women's. Thankfully, this ryokan didn't have a secret closed-off haunted onsen, so both were functioning at the same time. Once a day the staff would swap which bath is the women's and which bath is the men's because the two had different water sources and different materials, and they wanted to give everyone an opportunity to experience both.

The room I stayed in had a small private onsen with most of the same features as the public onsen. There's an area to the side where you wash beforehand with a short stool, bucket, and shower head.

The bath itself is covered by a roof structure and has walls around for privacy, but is still very much an outdoor space within the gardens.

And, last but not least, Lobby fish?!?

#clue crew #shadow at the water's edge #nancy drew games #her interactive

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episims · 2 months

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Foxfire ROS

After playing Foxfire for 9 rounds I've started to feel like I could use something to nudge me out of my routines a bit! For the next round, I'm going to try how adding random scenarios to the mix feels like 😁

I didn't find any existing scenario lists to be exactly what I wanted: more gameplay prompts that leave room for interpretation, and not so many strict rules or tasks or forced drama (my sims create enough of that as it is lol).

So I cherry-picked some scenarios that I liked, edited others, and created many new ones. A shout-out to @kayleigh-83 for this list that was a great starting point!

Night out: Visit a community lot after dark.

Bring your own basket: Visit a park with family or friends.

Movie marathon: Invite friends over for movies and snacks, or go on a movie binge by yourself.

Family matters: Invite over a relative or someone you share a similar bond with.

Fits like a glove: Wear a new accessory.

Games night: Set up a board game or fire up a console for an evening. PC owners can throw a lan party.

Burn off steam: Devote a day to exercising in any form.

Playing hooky: A child or teen skips one school day.

Online friends: Spend an evening chatting over the internet.

Fence-mending: Talk to a walkby you don't know or have a low relationship with.

Fertile ground: Get a new plant to your garden or other outdoor area.

Pulling strings: Use influence to your advantage.

Tired of cooking: Order delivery for a meal.

Peculiar flavor: The sim with the least cooking points takes the cooking turn.

Sprucing up: Choose a room or space and give it a facelift.

Touch base: Call the friend you currently have the lowest relationship score with.

Dine out: Eat at a restaurant.

New hobby: Try out a hobby you haven't explored before.

Broken record: Talk about your favorite hobby to every sim you encounter during one day.

Slumber party: Invite friends for a sleepover.

Power outage: Turn off all the lights except for candles and only make uncooked meals for a day.

Cloud over a head: Argue with every sim you encounter during one day.

Old gang: Meet up with the friends you have known for the longest.

Turn up the heat: Woohoo in public.

New ink: Get a tattoo.

Fresh air: Spend a day outdoors.

Homebody: Spend a day indoors.

Got the moves: Visit a community lot to hit the dance floor or turn on a stereo at home and dance until you run out of energy.

Make the bed: Change sheets for all beds on the lot.

Health concerns: Visit or call over a doctor.

All things are transient: Sell three objects.

Odd bottle: Consume a potion from your inventory.

Dig it: Spend a day treasure hunting.

Capture it: Take a picture and hang it on the wall.

Running on fumes: Have a cup of coffee once every few hours.

Reaching enlightenment: Meditate for a day.

Sugar rush: Prepare only desserts for a day.

Clocking extra time: Spend an evening on a computer either blogging, writing, or giving financial advice.

Dressed to the nines: Go on a date in formalwear.

Pretty lights: The outdoor areas of the lot are filled with fireflies for the round.

School assignment: A child or teen collects bugs for the round.

Stealing the show: Perform with an instrument or a microphone, freestyle for tips, or breakdance in public.

Devil on a shoulder: Prank every sim you encounter during one day.

Turning the page: Negative relationship effects are reduced for 48 hours and any existing fury states are cleared (get the 'forgiving' vacation benefit).

Meeting deadlines: Job performance is increased for 48 hours (get the 'industrious' vacation benefit).

Hot stuff: The attractiveness is increased for 48 hours (get the 'je ne sais quoi' vacation benefit).

On the ball: Skill, talent badge, and homework rates are increased for 48 hours (get the 'refreshed' vacation benefit).

Scatterbrained: Skill, talent badge, and homework rates are decreased for 48 hours (get the 'jetlagged' vacation penalty).

Bonfire night: Light up a bonfire with family or with friends.

Explosive entertainment: Throw a party with fireworks.

By example: Share hobby tips or instruct someone in a hobby, or find a sim who can share tips or instruct you in one.

Score points: Visit a community lot to play arcade games, poker, don't wake the llama, mahjong, or myshuno.

Self-care: Skilling is forbidden for a day. Instead, practice recovering activities like taking bubble baths, enjoying hot tubs or hot springs, getting massages, relaxing in saunas, or sunbathing.

Feeling chipper: Compliment every sim you encounter during one day.

I'll probably add these whenever I come up with new ones. Scenario ideas are welcome!

#text post #foxfire forest #ts2 #the sims 2 #sims 2 #*appears out of nowhere to post this*#i hope these will be fun!#i left out some obvious ones like changing clothes or hairstyle #as i tend to plan those in body shop

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wanderingsimsfinds · 9 months

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WanderingSims Fave CC - Asian Community Pt. 1

1, 3, 7-8, 25 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Sims-KKB Korean Style Goods Set (Posters, Signboard, Signboard (Sims41ife recolors), Shadow Screen, Standing Board)

2, 4 - VivianDang - 4t3 DominationKid Japanese Retro Shop Signs & Street Bulletin Boards

5-6, 35-36 - Ziva-Sims - 2t3 Japasims Set (Cheap Shop Sign, Emergency Lamp, Noren, Pori Waste Bags)

9, 19, 58-59 - SimpleStudio404 - Izakaya Set (Menu Poster, Akanoren, Beer Case 1, Beer Case 2)*

10 - SimpleStudio404 - Clutter Set (Retoro Kanban 1)*

11-13, 16-17, 21 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Slox Expressway Set Pt. 4 (Awning, Magazine Rack, Sign 1, Sign 2, Sign 3, Banner)

14-15, 18 - Martassimsbook - The Sims 4 Snowy Escape Noren Curtains Long, Mini, Short

20 - SimpleStudio404 - Retoro Set (Bench)*

22 - simnaru - Nobori Sign

23 - NoirandDarkSims - Gatchapon Machine

24 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 Sims-KKB Utensils 2 Set The Shade

26, 68 - NoirandDarkSims - Japanese Festival Ultimate Edition Nobori & Cash Register

27-29 - SimpleStudio404 - Retoro B Set (Ice Box Table, Refrigerator, Post Deco)*

30, 33-34 - NoirandDarkSims - Tokyo City Decor (Mailbox, Road Decor 09, Road Decor 10)

31, 51-56 - NoirandDarkSims - School Days Set (Shoukaki, Sink School, Blackboard, Desk, Chair, Class Plate, Locker)

32 - NoirandDarkSims - Yuxi Tkangie Noren

37-43 - Mitarsi - Graveyard Set (Sotoba 2, Haka S1, Floral Tribute, Haka S2, Haka 1, Candle, Sotoba 1)

44-45 - Martassimsbook - 4t3 StudioK Convenience Store Set Copy Machine & Sticker

46-50 - simnaru - School Set 1 (School Poster 4, School Plate, Sink School (3 Pieces), Shoebox, Classroom Locker)

57 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Spirited Away Set Paper Lanterns

60-61 - SimpleStudio404 - Ob Set (Dining Chair & Yatai Dining Table)*

62-64 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Senran Kagura Bon Appetit Conversions (Yakuza Restaurant Spice Tray, Plate, Napkin)

65-66 - SimpleStudio404 - Takoyaki ki Set & Charcoal Stove Set*

67, 71 - Ziva-Sims - 2t3 Simsconnection Soy Sauce & Sake

69 - MurfeeL - Taru 1-3

70 - Kewai-Dou - Japanese Sake Set

72 - NoirandDarkSims - Mitarsi Sims Tori Gate

73, 75 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Lighting Outdoor & Street Pennant Static

74 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Nobori Flag

76-77 - MurfeeL - C2077 Round String Lanterns & Oval String Lanterns

78 - jazzysimlife - 4t3 Snowy Escape Deco Buildings

79 - HydrangeaChainsaw - Japanese Houses

*All the SimpleStudio404 downloads are in the same ZIP graciously uploaded by @ameriko-steelie. I listed the set name so that you can find the specific CC without opening every folder.

#ts3cc #s3cc #s3ccfinds #asian #cc list

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amywritesthings · 2 years

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SEEING YOU, SEEING ME (2/7)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: After handling a life-or-death favor for Tess, you're in deep shit. Until she can make things right, she suggests you lay low at her place for the week. The issue? It's also Joel Miller's place, and you're pretty sure he hates you.

Warnings: PRE-TLOU setting so no show spoilers, Mentions of death and violence, Age gap/difference, Slow burn, Angry!Joel, Eventual Smut, Enemies to Fuckers, Sexual tension

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter | Masterlist

CHAPTER TWO: BREAK IT TO ME GENTLY

The abrupt clang of a pan hitting the metal frame of a stove wakes you.

Out of your dead and delayed sleep you jolt, panicked and ready to run at a second's notice. Your chin whips around to find the source of the noise, accustomed to loud meaning bad, but you are met with the opposite:

In the open-wall divide of the apartment, Joel Miller stands only a few feet away. Dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, he sports a tattered olive rag draped over his shoulder. He busies himself with the black, worn pan in his left hand, only glancing under his brow with mild interest when the mattress creaks in the scattered fright.

“Thought maybe you died,” he greets with something that sounds almost like a hollow joke. His wrist turns, sifting the contents in the sizzling pan below.

You open your mouth to argue, but the aroma of food — fresh, real food — dissolves the thought into thin air.

He follows the trail of your eyes to the pan and speaks plainly.

“Had an extra egg in the fridge.”

Eggs.

The scent is scrambled eggs.

Your eyes round with interest. “You have eggs here?”

“Not anymore,” he says, lifting a spatula to push the food from the pan and onto a nearby plate. “Have to go grab more.”

Your stomach growls with need.

It would be rude to ask — right?

Except he doesn't give you a chance to: Joel leaves the stove with a plate in hand, half-full by a rationed scrambled egg. Without a word he sets it down at the dining table, cleared off from the night before.

At first, you don't move from the edge of the mattress. Bouncing your attention between him and the steaming plate of food, you wait for verbal confirmation.

Permission.

"Are you gonna eat it, or are you gonna waste it?" he absently asks over his shoulder when he returns to the stove, shoveling out a second egg to another plate.

You hesitate, stuck between calling a bluff and accepting what’s happening right in front of you: a gesture of kindness, even if it may not be his idea.

You slide off the bed to meet him in the tiny kitchenette, sitting awkwardly at the table once littered with drugs and alcohol.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. They're not good."

"Oh." You pluck a tiny piece with your fork, surveying the fluff of yellow. "I wasn't much of a cook either, before this."

Lifting the fork to your mouth, you taste test with a tiny piece.

It’s good.

Maybe not gourmet, but it’s good enough.

Melting at the taste of something rare yet familiar, you hum in appreciation and dig in for more.

“Christ, I haven’t had eggs in forever. They’re so fucking expensive at the mart.”

Once Joel picks up his own plate from the kitchen counter, the apartment is alive with the sounds of forks scraping at ceramic. It’s supplemented with a soundtrack by the outdoor hustle and bustle of the Fedra soldiers and the citizens of the quarantine zone.

It feels peaceful.

(It feels normal, in the irony of it all.)

Neither of you speak, too worried about making the food last, until he chirps up. Finished first.

“So are you gonna disclose what it is exactly that you did for Tess?”

Joel turns to discard his plate into the nearby sink, only to lean back against the counter. His arms cross over his broad chest, expectant.

"I think I deserve to know what it is I'm housing you for," he adds.

You look up from your fork, catching his eye.

“I don’t think she’d like that.”

"No?"

"No."

“Well she ain’t exactly the one here playing babysitter,” Joel counters, gliding the tattered rag off of his shoulder and down his chest to drop it into the sink.

You roll your eyes, stabbing at the last remaining piece of egg on your plate.

“I mean… I wouldn’t call this babysitting, Miller. I am a grown adult.”

His brows furrow, but he doesn’t argue.

Instead he asks a question that catches you both off guard:

“You know my last name?”

You pause, hovering the fork near your mouth as you formulate a response.

Is that supposed to be a surprise?

(As if it's a crime to call him as anything but a stranger.)

“Everyone in the zone knows you,” you reply with apprehension. “It's not exactly a secret who people go to if they want shit done around here.” Then there’s the obvious in the room, though it’s closer to a church mouse than an elephant in size. “And besides, we… have worked together a lot, so I've heard it once or twice.”

Or twenty, give or take a shift.

He stares, hard, before clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, I know we have. Just didn’t think you knew my name, s’all.”

Wait.

You blink.

“You mean you—”

Both of you still into silence as you cut off your question, eye to eye.

"You mean I... what?" Joel begins, suspicious.

You're going to sound like an idiot.

Eyes closed, you inhale a bit of strength before taking one last bite of what’s left of the egg on your plate.

"You know me?" you ask.

"Know you?" he repeats, and you nod. "Seriously?"

You nod again. Joel lets out a huff, adjacent to a humorless laugh.

“I know your face, sure. If I recall right, then you’ve been on a few of them jobs.”

“Oh.”

His brows knit as he re-adjusts his stance against the counter.

“Why? S'that surprising to you?”

“Very,” you admit under your breath. “I didn’t think you watched what I did or saw me at all."

He runs a hand over his face, scratching at the salt and pepper scruff lining his jaw.

“No, I didn't watch you, but I saw you,” he replies, matter of fact. “Probably the only one I get stuck with who actually puts some back into their shit."

The slight praise blossoms something warm in your belly, full from a cooked meal.

"Except," he starts with an uptick in his voice, "I didn’t peg you as the type to run around with Tess.”

You try not to smile, but it’s too late. "No?"

"Not in the slightest."

"I don't think a lot of people can peg me as any type of thing, 'cus none of these people really know me," you admit a little too honestly. "Not really in the market to be known."

(Kind of like you, you want to say.)

Joel nods at nothing in particular, contemplating with his attention to the floor. Abruptly he clears his throat and hikes a thumb back to the weather-worn refrigerator in the corner.

"I need to grab some extra food, then, if this is gonna be a couple of days."

Something flutters in your stomach; not as pretty as a butterfly, but something less twisted than a bee. Any conversation that isn't a fight is an improvement.

Maybe you misjudged the situation.

Maybe Joel just doesn't want to be known, same as you.

You shift in your seat to shuffle through the back pocket of your jeans. “I have ration papers if you need more to cover the cost.”

The corner of Joel’s upper lip scowls as he shakes his head. He pushes off the counter to walk towards the table where you sit.

“Keep ‘em – I got plenty.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He tugs the jacket off of the back of the unoccupied chair, flicking out the collar once it’s finally on his torso. “You put that in the sink, then, when you’re finished? I’ll get around to ‘em when I come back.”

“I can clean both sets of dishes, Miller,” you argue as he passes by you to reach the door of the apartment. “It’s the least I can do while I'm stuck here.”

Hand on the doorknob, Joel turns his chin to study you one last time.

"Right."

His lips purse like he wants to say something, as if it’s tickling the tip of his tongue, but ultimately decides against it. Instead he settles with a huff through his nose; a sound of resignation.

“Just don’t touch anything else.”

Author's Note: We've gotten the intro out of the way. Next chapter is when things start to get juicy, I promise. The response to this fic has been wonderful and the google doc is nearly 10K, so you KNOW we're in it now. As always, comments & reblogs are adored. Thank you for reading!

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #the last of us #tlou spoilers #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #wip #amywritesthings #seeing you seeing me

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ohtobeleah · 2 years

Note

Kitchen Quickie with Bob that gets interrupt by the squad/while the squad is at the house (Bob is a dirty dirty boy who can't keep his hands to himself)

#strictly scandalous

Brain go brrrr.

Warnings: This is Strictly Scandalous. Smut ahead.

It’s Saturday afternoon and you and Bob are hosting the weekly dagger dinner. Every Monday morning before pre-flight checks, the daggers would all throw their names into Fanboys gross ass hat and draw a name out. Whoever’s name was drawn? Hosted Saturday night dagger dinner.

“Dinner’s pretty much ready Bubba.” Bob was on the back deck, neatly placing the cutlery you’d sent him out with alongside the placemats that littered the outdoor dining set you’d both dropped a pretty penny on a few years back. “Wanna come in for a taste test?”

“Coming darlin.” It's a simple reply, but one that makes your heart swoon for your Fiancé. Bob finished what he’s doing before he’s sauntering inside, chasing the captivating smell of tomato and basil lamb shakes that could honestly kill. They smelt so good. “Baby, It smells amazing in here.” Bob rounds the corner into the kitchen to find you slicing up some homemade bread. You’d gone all out for this danger dinner and he was so thankful for everything you had done.

“Hmm—“ You're leaning over the slow cooker, frowning as you stir the contents. “I just hope to potatoes are cooked enough otherwise I’m never gonna here the end of it from Hang—“ Before you can finish saying how Jake would never let you forget it if the potatoes weren’t soft enough, Bob is twirling you around in his grasp, so stunned at his suddenness you drop the ladle, it makes a mess when the red sauce covered utensil hits the gray tiles of your kitchen floor. “Robert Floyd!” You giggle as his lips make contact with the juncture of your neck, hands roaming the small of your waist as he lifts you up onto the countertop, pushing the chopping board aside. “What has gotten into you?”

“Thought I might be able to start with dessert first?” Bob mumbles, he’s hungry for something only you can give him. “You’ve put so much effort into this dinner, makes me horny as shit just thinking about how you would have been roaming the isles at the grocery store looking for everything you needed.”

“Oh woah—“ You chuckle, leaning back to catch a glimpse at the flushed hume creeping over Bob's cheeks. “Talk dirty to me more, Lieutenant.” You worked in the base cafe, serving up stellar coffees to all ranking men and women. It was where you’d met and subsequently fallen in with Robert Floyd when he’d returned to TopGun for a second time. A few years on and the two of you were inseparable, planning a wedding, ready to take on the world together.

“Love when you get all domestic and cook up a feast.” Bob was feral, really. But in a different way to lost men you’d dated in the past. He was a respectable feral. Always found something so sincere and genuine to love you for.

“Does it turn you on to know I’ve already ironed your flight suit and hung it up in the cupboard for Monday morning?” Bobs groaning into your mouth as his hands work to unzip his jeans. Pulling them down just below his ass in a feverish haste.

“I’m in love with you, you know that right?” Bob's hands go from his jeans to the hem of your sundress, pulling it up as his lips never leave yours, pushing your panties to the side as his digits slip past your folds. “So wet.”

“What can I say, I’ve got a thing for military men.” That was a very true statement. “Fuggh—“ Coaxing his fingertips against your velvet walls, Bob revels in the slight squelching sound that echoes through the kitchen, standing between your parted knees as his fingers disappear inside you. Buried to the hilt. “Bob—baby—“

“There’s no fucking way.” Rooster is stopping at the front door, he’s got a clear view straight into the kitchen via the window right next to the front door. The blinds are open, the window is cracked and your whimpers can be heard from afar.

Bradley’s holding his arm out in front of Phoenix, stopping her in her tracks as her chest collides with his forearm. “Nope—“

“Bradshaw—?”

“Shut up, listen.” Although Phoenix could have very well slammed her elbow into the sternum of Bradley Bradshaw at his sudden demeanour change, she was caught off guard by the sound of supple whimpers and deep airy groans coming from inside the Floyd household.

“Oh my god go, go.” Phoenix is as wide eyed and bushy tailed as ever as her and Bradley race back down the three stairs and book it back to the Bronco. Scared they’ll never get the sounds out of their heads and know they don’t need an x-rated image of you and Bob to go along with it.

“Bob honey, need you now.” It’s needy and it’s hard to keep your head level as Bob pulls his fingers from your cunt, sucking your nectar from the lengthy digits before he’s guiding himself inside you. Moaning as he does.

“Ahhhh god—so tight all for me angel.” Bob hissed as he slowly lifted your legs to hook over his arms, angling you just right so that you could take every inch he was willing to give. “Be a good girl and keep those pretty eyes on me baby, wanna watch you unravel.”

You do as you're told as Bob starts a slow pace, building up the pressure before he’s setting a rhythm so fierce it has the slow cooker dancing beside you. Threatening to jump off the edge of the counter.

“Aarruugghh—Bob! Fuck!”

“So good for me darlin Ohh—keep those pretty moans coming.” It’s thrilling, it’s damn near pornographic the way Bob is talking to you, the way he’s handling you, the way he’s working you towards your high.

“Ahhh! Fuck keep going! Keep fucking me baby just like that—“ Its a short lived moment though, because unlike Rooster and Phoenix who had retreated back to the Bronco of shelter, Mickey Garcia and Javy Machado were not so smart, walking right in and into their worst nightmare.

“Oh god!” Javy is turning around in an instant, while Mickey closes his eyes tight, too afraid to move. He’s convinced himself that if he doesn’t move Bob won’t see him. “Bob! You knew we were coming right!?”

“Bobs got you up in his arms and ducking behind the counter the second he hears his colleagues voices, still stuffed inside you as he covers your mouth and watches your eyes roll into the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. A part of you is very turned on by his protectiveness.

“We got carried away!” He shouted back. Still watching you cum on his cock. “Give me like, two minutes!”

“Fucking hell Floyd—“ Fanyboy sighs as he blindly feels around for the front door. “Never again.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Strictly Scandalous Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

#ohtobeleah 3k celebration #strictly scandalous robert ‘bob’ floyd #strictly scandalous top gun #robert bob floyd #top gun bob #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd smut #top gun maverick imagine

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