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Air Curtains for Restaurants in Gurgaon: A Must-Have for Modern Eateries
Air Curtains for Restaurants in Gurgaon: A Must-Have for Modern Eateries
Air Curtains for Restaurants in Gurgaon: A Must-Have for Modern Eateries Air Curtains for Restaurants in Gurgaon: A Must-Have for Modern Eateries Gurgaon, a bustling hub of culinary delights, boasts a diverse range of restaurants catering to every taste and preference. In this competitive landscape, restaurant owners are constantly seeking ways to enhance the dining experience, optimize…
#Air Curtain#Air Curtain Buying Guide#air curtain for flies#Air Curtain for restaurants door#air curtain in gurgaon#air curtain near me#air curtain price#air curtain system#air cutter#air door#buzz lite#Commercial Air Curtain#energy savings#entrance air curtain#food grade air curtain#insect air curtain#Pest control#silent air curtain
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High-Performance Industrial Air Curtains | Logos Air Curtains
Experience optimal climate control with our industrial air curtains. Find the best air curtain prices and manufacturers in Chennai at AirCurtains.co.in. We specialize in industrial air curtains, designed for efficiency and effectiveness. Discover flame-proof options and explore how our solutions create a comfortable environment. Visit https://aircurtains.co.in/industrial-air-curtains/ to partner with a leading air curtain company in Chennai.
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#air curtain#air curtain price#air curtain manufacturers in chennai#industrial air curtain#air curtain for industrial use#air curtain company#flame proof air curtain#air curtains chennai
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Air Curtain Price Guide: Affordable Solutions for Optimal Climate Control
Introduction
Maintaining a comfortable indoor environment while reducing energy costs is a top priority for businesses and homeowners alike. Air curtains have emerged as a cost-effective solution for climate control, offering a barrier between indoor and outdoor spaces to prevent the transfer of air, dust, and pollutants. If you're considering investing in an air curtain system, it's essential to understand the factors influencing its price and explore affordable options that provide optimal climate control. In this price guide, we'll delve into the key considerations and highlight affordable solutions to help you make an informed decision.
Understanding Air Curtains
Air curtains are devices that blow a controlled stream of air across an opening, creating a seal to separate two distinct areas. They work by producing a laminar airflow that acts as an invisible barrier, preventing the infiltration of outside air, temperature loss, and the entry of dust, insects, or pollutants. By maintaining indoor comfort and reducing energy consumption, air curtains contribute to improved climate control and increased operational efficiency.
Factors Influencing Air Curtain Prices
Several factors contribute to the pricing of air curtain systems. Understanding these factors can help you determine the best solution for your specific needs:
a. Size and Coverage Area: The size of the opening that needs to be covered by an air curtain directly affects its price. Larger openings require more powerful and larger units, leading to higher costs.
b. Performance and Features: Air curtains come with various performance levels and features. Factors such as airflow velocity, noise levels, control options, and additional functionalities (e.g., heating, filtering) can influence the price.
c. Energy Efficiency: Energy-efficient air curtains utilize advanced technologies to reduce power consumption, resulting in long-term savings. Although these systems may have a higher initial cost, their efficiency can help offset operational expenses over time.
d. Installation and Maintenance: The complexity of installation, including mounting options and the need for professional assistance, can impact the overall cost. Additionally, ongoing maintenance requirements should be considered to ensure optimal performance and longevity.
Affordable Air Curtain Solutions
While air curtain prices can vary significantly depending on the factors mentioned above, there are affordable options available that still provide optimal climate control. Here are a few solutions to consider:
a. Basic Air Curtains: Entry-level air curtain models are often more affordable and suitable for smaller spaces or areas with less demanding requirements. They offer essential air sealing capabilities without additional features or complex installation requirements.
b. Standard Efficiency Units: These air curtains provide a balance between cost and performance. They offer higher airflow velocities and enhanced control options compared to basic models while still being relatively affordable. They are suitable for medium-sized openings and offer efficient climate separation.
c. Energy-Efficient Air Curtains: Although they may have a higher upfront cost, energy-efficient air curtains can provide substantial long-term savings by reducing energy consumption. These units utilize advanced technologies, such as variable speed drives, optimized airflow design, and intelligent controls, to maximize efficiency without compromising performance.
d. Consider Manufacturer and Supplier: Choosing reputable manufacturers and suppliers ensures quality products and reliable customer support. They may offer competitive pricing, warranty options, and after-sales services, providing better value for your investment.
Conclusion
Air curtains offer an affordable and efficient solution for climate control, contributing to increased comfort and reduced energy costs. When considering the price of an air curtain system, it's important to take into account factors such as size, performance, energy efficiency, and installation/maintenance requirements. By exploring affordable options, such as basic models, standard efficiency units, and energy-efficient systems, you can find a solution that fits your budget without compromising on optimal climate control. Remember to choose reputable manufacturers and suppliers to ensure the reliability and longevity of your air curtain investment.
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#Photography#Dec. 2022#Indoors#Close-Up#Distance#Christmas#Winter Holiday Season#Xmas Decorations#Xmas Balls#Furniture Store#Merchandise#Jingle Bells#Stars#Holly#Carpentry#Price Signs#Numbers#Lumber#Reflections#Drapes#Curtains#Windows#Ceiling Lights#Air Vents#Glares#Wooden Boards#Winter Holidays#Balls#Bells#Stores
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The Role of PVC Strip Curtains in Industrial Spaces
In the dynamic landscape of industrial environments, where efficiency and safety coalesce, PVC Strip Curtains emerge as unsung heroes. As crucial components in maintaining optimal working conditions, these versatile barriers find their roots in innovative solutions provided by PVC Curtains Manufacturers. Let's explore the myriad applications and benefits that make PVC Strip Curtains integral to modern industrial spaces.
PVC Strip Curtains: A Window into Versatility
Temperature Control
PVC Strip Curtains act as thermal barriers, effectively controlling temperature zones within industrial settings. They play a pivotal role in preserving ambient temperatures, contributing to energy efficiency and creating comfortable working environments.
Containment of Airborne Particles
In environments prone to dust, debris, or airborne particles, PVC Strip Curtains serve as effective barriers. They prevent the migration of contaminants between different work areas, ensuring product integrity, and maintaining air quality.
Applications Across Industries
Food Processing and Cold Storage
In the food industry, where hygiene and temperature control are paramount, PVC Strip Curtains find applications in walk-in coolers, freezers, and processing areas. They help maintain the required temperatures while allowing easy access for personnel and equipment.
Manufacturing and Assembly Lines
On production floors, PVC Strip Curtains create defined workspaces, preventing cross-contamination and enhancing safety. They also act as noise barriers, providing a more comfortable working environment for employees.
The Role of PVC Curtains Manufacturers
Customization for Varied Needs
Reputable PVC Curtains Manufacturers offer customization options to meet the diverse needs of industrial clients. This includes tailoring strip curtain solutions based on dimensions, thickness, and specific environmental requirements.
Durable and Resilient Materials
Quality matters, and established manufacturers use durable PVC materials that withstand the rigors of industrial settings. The resilience of these materials ensures a longer lifespan, reducing the need for frequent replacements.
Compliance with Industry Standards
PVC Curtains Manufacturers adhere to industry standards and regulations. Choosing products from compliant manufacturers ensures that the strip curtains meet safety and quality benchmarks, contributing to a secure and efficient workplace.
Choosing the Right PVC Strip Curtains
Transparent or Opaque Options
Depending on the application, PVC Strip Curtains come in transparent or opaque variants. Transparent curtains maintain visibility, making them suitable for areas where monitoring processes is essential, while opaque curtains provide privacy and containment.
UV Stabilization for Outdoor Use
For outdoor applications, UV-stabilized PVC strip curtains are crucial. This feature ensures that the curtains maintain their structural integrity and transparency, even when exposed to sunlight for extended periods.
Easy Installation and Maintenance
Opt for PVC Strip Curtains that are easy to install and maintain. Quick installation reduces downtime, and curtains that are easy to clean and replace contribute to a seamless workflow.
FAQs
Q: Can PVC Strip Curtains be used in areas with heavy foot traffic?
A: Absolutely. PVC Strip Curtains are designed to withstand frequent movement. They are an excellent choice for areas with heavy foot traffic, such as doorways and walkways, providing a cost-effective solution for maintaining climate control.
Q: Are PVC Strip Curtains suitable for high-temperature environments?
A: Yes, PVC Strip Curtains are available in formulations designed for high-temperature environments. They effectively control temperature zones in areas with elevated temperatures, such as ovens or manufacturing processes.
Q: How often should PVC Strip Curtains be replaced?
A: The lifespan of PVC Strip Curtains depends on factors such as usage, environmental conditions, and maintenance. Regular inspections and proactive replacement of damaged or worn strips contribute to prolonged curtain effectiveness.
Q: Can PVC Strip Curtains contribute to energy savings?
A: Yes, PVC Strip Curtains play a role in energy savings by preventing the escape of conditioned air. They help maintain desired temperatures in different zones, reducing the workload on heating or cooling systems and contributing to overall energy efficiency. In conclusion, PVC Strip Curtains, crafted by reliable PVC Curtains Manufacturers, are indispensable assets in optimizing industrial spaces. Their versatility, durability, and customized solutions make them essential components in maintaining efficiency, safety, and hygiene. Embrace the innovation of PVC Strip Curtains, and let them redefine the boundaries of productivity in your industrial environment.
#air curtains#buy air curtains#air curtains supplier in delhi#commercial air curtains#air curtains manufacturers in india#air curtains manufacturers in delhi#air curtains supplier in india#air curtains manufacturers#air curtains price#air curtains supplier
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Door Air Curtain Model | Acme Air Curtain
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ACME provides Air Cutters for door Air Curtain models. In the manufacturing sector, each industry faces a set of unique challenges posed by environmental conditions as well as mandatory regulations. Peculiar challenges that can be easily solved with our Air Cutters include – extra high door openings, continuous man and material movement, high ceilings, multiple indoor environment (air conditioned, non-air conditioned, sub-zero environments, handling of explosive materials and chemicals etc)
#air curtains manufacturers#door air curtain models#acme air curtain#door air curtain#air curtains#price of air curtain#industrial air curtains#commercial air curtains#air curtain manufacturers in india
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Beneath a Dragon's Gaze
Summary: With Madame Sylvi indisposed on the evening Prince Aemond comes to visit, he requests someone different | Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: sex work, smut, hair pulling, biting, titty sucking, darkish Aemond
A/N: saw ep 3 and felt silly 😁 not proofread an inch
“The Prince has asked for you.”
She could not help the wide-eyed look and the familiar flipping of her stomach, now feeling entirely different with the words that had come from her fellow woman’s lips. The Prince. Well, it could have meant either of them only weeks before, but no longer. They frequented this establishment quite often, as an upper-class brothel, with only the finest whores and service, it was only natural, and they had the coin to pay for it.
Suddenly, she felt quite cold in the sheer dress she had chosen that evening, doing very little to conceal the flesh that hid beneath, her nipples having formed peaks against the satin. What could she possibly say to that? There was no possibility of refusing.
“Very well,” she responded, knowing it was not her place to question. There was no question as to which now, it was most certainly the very same who frequented for the warm embrace and soothing voice of Madame Sylvi, who spent hours in her company and paid her a hefty price for it. For secrecy. But she knew just as well that the only reason Aemond had requested her instead, was because on this night, his usual appointment was indisposed.
Her heart raced as she slalomed through the scantily clad crowd, each step bringing her closer to the corner where the prince awaited. The halls were dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls, alongside those of curved figures, twisted with pleasure. She could hear the muted sounds of such from the other rooms, but they did little to quell the nervousness that gripped her.
When she reached the curtain, she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The Prince. Aemond Targaryen. Known for his fierce demeanour and sharp intellect, he was not a man to be trifled with. Yet, beneath that cold exterior, she had heard whispers of a man burdened by the weight of his family.
Sliding the curtain across, met with the Prince, eyepatch already discarded and down only to his breeches, sat with cup in hand on the plush settee, his lone eye raising to her as she dipped for a curtsy. She felt her throat close at the sight of the sapphire, somewhat mirroring what was happening between her thighs.
"Madame Sylvi sends her apologies, my prince. She is unable to attend to you this evening."
Aemond's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she felt her cheeks flush under his scrutiny. "I did not call for Sylvi tonight," he said finally, his tone giving nothing away. "I called for you."
Her lips parted to question. But she dare not let the words free. She was not one to ask about his intentions, a mere whore.
“Undress.”
The Prince’s eye never wavered as he watched, flesh revealed as she bared herself to him. He stood as if uncurling himself, finishing what was left in his cup before moving his hands to unlace his breeches, his head gesturing to the settee.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
His commanding tone made those flutters awaken once more. She had been employed at this establishment for so long, of course being naked and bared to an abundance of men was second nature. But there was something about the way he wanted her, the way it seemed not spurred by desire of any kind, but a need, like air, that ignited her nerves that she had not felt since her first few days in this line of work.
Still, bare arsed and exposed to a Prince, was a different matter entirely.
She felt his presence behind her, knowing he was naked as his thighs brushed against hers. He nudged her knees apart and pushed gently on her spine, encouraging her to arch her back. Though she could not see his face, the rippled design of the copper in front of her reflected enough for her to sense the detachment in his actions. So, she remained silent.
Prince Aemond guided himself to her centre, barely wet, and pushed his cockhead inside. He had barely breached her when his hands gripped the flesh of her buttocks, watching intently as his cock slowly slid deeper into her cunt, being swallowed by her body. She closed her eyes, the lack of preparation making the act more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but she hoped that with time, her arousal would ease the discomfort.
As Prince Aemond continued to push himself inside her, she focused on her breathing, trying to relax her body and ease the discomfort. The room was silent except for their breaths, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls. Each inch he gained felt like a stretch, a challenge to her body's readiness, but she bit her lip, determined to endure.
His hands, firm on her buttocks, began to knead her flesh, his grip alternating between gentle caresses and possessive squeezes. The friction built steadily, her body slowly acclimating to his presence. The initial pain started to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and the stirrings of pleasure.
Aemond moved with a deliberate pace, his thrusts measured and controlled. He seemed intent on watching every inch of his cock as it disappeared inside her, his breathing heavy and laboured. She could feel his intensity, the way he held back his own urges to maintain that slow, torturous rhythm.
Despite the initial discomfort, her arousal began to build. Her body responded to his movements, her inner walls slickening and accommodating his length with increasing ease. Soft moans escaped her lips, unbidden but honest, as pleasure began to mix with the remnants of pain.
Aemond's hands slid from her buttocks to her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, hitting spots inside her that sent jolts of pleasure through her body. Her fingers clenched the sheets beneath her, seeking some anchor as the sensations intensified.
He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "Do you feel that?" he murmured, his voice husky and edged with restraint. "Do you feel how you take me in?"
"Yes, my prince," she gasped, her voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "I feel it."
Aemond's pace quickened slightly, his control slipping as his own desire took precedence. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, a rhythmic, primal music that spoke of need and release. Her moans grew louder, her body arching and pushing to meet his thrusts, seeking the pleasure that now consumed her.
With a sudden, possessive grip, Aemond's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. His lips found her skin, teeth grazing lightly before he bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to claim. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, her body responding with an involuntary clench around his cock.
He groaned against her neck, the sound vibrating through her. "Take me, all of me," he whispered, his voice filled with approval and satisfaction.
She surrendered to the sensations, her body melting into his as pleasure overwhelmed her. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word from Aemond drove her closer to the edge. The discomfort was a distant memory now, replaced by a wave of ecstasy that built with each passing second. His movements so erratic, his stones clapped against her womanhood with every harsh push, slapping against her bud in a steady, unyielding rhythm.
The sensation pushed her over the edge, her own climax washing over her in a powerful, all-consuming wave. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Finally, with a deep, guttural moan, Aemond drove himself to the hilt inside her once more, his body shuddering and then withdrawing quickly as he found his release and coated her buttocks and thighs with his pearly spend.
They stayed like that for a moment, both catching their breath, their bodies still joined. Slowly, Aemond released his grip on her hair and hips, his hands soothing over the marks he'd left. He pulled out of her velvety walls gently, leaving her feeling both spent and fulfilled.
She expected him to leave, to gather his clothes and slip away into the night, as most men often do with a flick of their coin into her lap. But instead, Aemond surprised her. He curled into her body, his head resting against her chest. His lips found her breast, mouthing at her skin with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their earlier encounter. His hand moved to her other breast, caressing it with a gentle, almost reverent touch.
She looked down at him, her fingers threading through his silver, moonlit hair. He seemed to take more pleasure in this simple intimacy than she did, as if seeking comfort rather than mere satisfaction. His eyes were closed, his breathing steadying as he continued to nuzzle her chest.
"I hate it," he murmured after a long silence, his voice muffled against her skin.
She blinked, unsure of his meaning. "Hate what, my prince?"
Aemond shifted slightly, his hand stilling on her breast. "Sometimes, I think Madame Sylvi just says anything to appease me. She tells me what she thinks I want to hear, not what she truly believes."
There was a bitterness in his tone that caught her off guard. "Why do you think that?" she asked softly, her thumb stroking the back of his neck.
Aemond's grip on her breast tightened slightly, and she felt a shiver of unease. His lips brushed against her nipple, then his teeth grazed it, sending a jolt through her body. "Because it's easier for her," he said, his voice lower, more dangerous. "Because I'm a prince, and she fears offending me."
She gasped softly at the sensation, the mix of pleasure and pain reminding her of the precarious balance between comfort and control. "But you deserve honesty, my prince," she managed to say, her voice trembling.
He bit down a little harder, enough to make her wince. "Do I?" he asked, his tone a warning. "Or do I deserve the truth, no matter how it feels?"
Her heart raced, the threat in his words unmistakable. "The truth, my prince," she whispered, trying to maintain her composure. "Always the truth."
Aemond's teeth released her nipple, his tongue soothing the sting. He looked up at her, his eye fierce and unyielding. The sapphire lodged in the other piercing and dark.
"Good," he said, his voice a soft growl. "Because I have no patience for lies, no matter how pretty they are."
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Literally obsessed with poly 141 x reader. Part 2
141 are called to the hospital after you’re picked up by paramedics after a drunken work party.
Heed the warnings.
CW: dead dove don't eat, alleged assault, alleged sexual assault, alleged non-con drugging, hurt/comfort, medial stuff, description of injuries.
---
John is your emergency contact. He’s the captain, the leader, he can take charge and make sure everyone does their job. You were still confused, heaving into a bag as the paramedic was asking about who to call.
It was a work party, you only had a few drinks. You’re not sure what happened, you were talking with a coworker. The next thing you know there are strangers around, you’re outside down an alley, the cold London air making you shiver.
“How much have you had to drink tonight?” The female paramedic asks. Your head is swimming, your body is sore. You have no idea where you are or what happened. Panic rises in your chest, you look up at her. She has kind eyes.
“I don’t know.” You slur. Your body feels heavy. The adrenaline that was pumping through your system is wearing off.
You don’t remember what happens next, all you hear is the screeching noise of sirens.
—-----------------
John’s heart is racing in his chest. Johnny and Kyle are sitting in silence in the back seats of the car they all rushed into after the call. John looks over at Simon, his knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel.
“Park up, we’ll meet you inside.” John says as Simon pulls into the parking garage. He stops the car and everyone but Simon gets out heading into the hospital’s A&E entrance. Price makes a b-line for the front desk. Johnny and Kyle follow as he asks for you and what room you’re in.
The nurse has barely finished telling him when he’s nodding and making his way through the doors to the main ward. It doesn’t take him long to find your bay. He pulls the curtain back looking at you curled up in the bed.
Your face is raw, your left eye is red and swollen, your neck bruised. The stunning red dress you left the house in torn, exposing your skin littered with marks. His stomach turns, he can see in your eyes you’re out of it. Reaching out for Johnny as he comes over to you.
You hardly register them coming in, your head still swimming as you turn to look at them. Familiar hands touch your skin. Johnny’s fingers coming to your face, brushing hair behind your ears.
“Hi.” You say smiling up at him.
“Hey lass, what’ve you been up to then?” He asks as Kyle comes over to the other side of the bed lacing his fingers with yours.
Silent glances are shared around the room. John’s presence is unavoidable, he stands at the end of the bed, his arms crossed as Johnny and Kyle fuss over you.
A nurse comes into the room. John turns to talk to her, she explains what they’ve done so far. Your injuries are consistent with sexual assault, date rape. The police will be here soon.
The words from the nurse's mouth seem to change the energy in the room. It’s like a rehearsed dance they’ve been practicing for. Maybe it’s the fact they're military and used to working under pressure, or maybe it’s just the fact it’s you, laid in a hospital bed.
John immediately takes up the role of leader-captain-in an instant. Johnny stays by your side holding your hand caressing your face, telling you not to worry. His kind eyes and warm smile distracts you from the commotion going on in your room.
John’s voice is low as he gives out orders. Kyle is incharge of intel gathering coming over to talk to you, rubbing your arm letting Johnny comfort you as he asks you simple questions. You don’t remember much but you enjoy his touch.
When Simon comes in the mood shifts.
You watch as he comes over to you. Johnny steps back letting him cup your cheek, his eyes scan your face, pulling your chin up to look at him. His eyes are hard, his lips pressed together. He kisses your forehead before moving back to the end of the bed.
Johnny is back with his smile and soft touches as he brushes your face careful to avoid the sensitive areas. You’re sleepy, your eyes drooping as you relax into bed.
“Tired?” Johnny asks, pulling the sheets over you. You nod before turning your head to look over the end of the bed. Simon's eyes are still on you as John talks. You’re not listening to what they’re saying. Kyle moves over, his attention turns to John.
“What are they doing?” You ask, your words still slurred.
“Don’t worry ‘bout them love. They’ve got work to do.” You watch as Simon pulls a mask up over his nose before he and Kyle leave the room.
You look over at Johnny smiling. John walks over resting his hand on your leg.
“You’re okay lass, we’re here now.” He says his thumb brushing your cheek as your eyes fall closed.
----
Someone stop me...
Part 2
#call of duty#fanfic#cod#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#john price#kyle gaz garrick#ghost cod#taskforce 141#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#tf 141 x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mactavish#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon x reader#simon ghost x reader#captain john price#john price x reader#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz x you
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ch10 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)
tw: reader is a kidnappee
masterlist | next
“How do you think we would have met in the real world?” You ask. His fingers tangle with yours, raising them high to your bedroom ceiling. “Hm. Regular customer at y’r store.” He answers. The bright Sunday morning light filters through the bedroom curtains, making the room glow like a dream. “You think I’d still own a bookstore in another life?” John nods against you, his head on the pillow next to yours. “Y’r made fer it. Tha’ I know.” You smile at the thought.
“What would you do?” He’s silent for a moment, thinking. “Military. I’m built f’r violence, can’t imagine anythin’ else.” You frown, hoping for a more positive answer. “It would be dangerous. And you’d be gone a lot. I don’t think you’d qualify as a regular.” You protest against the fake scenario. He squeezes your hand, comforting the sudden rush of emotion that made your last word wobble. You hoped for one future where a little boy named John could chase his interests, not living in a warzone. “I’d get a desk job when we got married.” You turn to your side, meeting his eyes with a grin.
“You’d marry me?” He turns on his side as well, hand catching the side of your face. He strokes the softness of your cheeks, calluses pulling against moisturized skin. “I’d marry ya in any universe. Flirt with ya at the checkout counter. Find your favorite books an’ get th’ author to sign them. Bring back stories from foreign countries. You don’t know what I’d do to find ya and keep ya.” Your breath catches. It’s the closest thing that he could give to a love confession. It’s tailored to you as a person, not just empty platitudes. You peck him on the lips, pulling back before he can distract you. “I’d find you too, John.”
When you wake, you’re cotton headed with a bitter mouth. You try to lick your lips but are stopped by the gag in your mouth, so jarring it took you a second to realize it. As the fog clears, you take stock of the situation.
A gloomy room, water dripping in the corner with a singular light hanging on the ceiling. It’s a bit chilly, air rushing through the thin button-up you’re wearing. (John’s. But you can’t think about him right now.) You’re still in the jeans you wore to work, thankfully. Hands handcuffed behind you to a cool metal chair, your legs secured to the bottom of it. And of course, the fabric gag in your mouth, reflected in the mirror in front of you that has to be watched by your captors. You glare, hard.
You were kidnapped after lunch, and thankfully you’re only a little hungry. The only sense of time you have is your bladder, pleading you to get to a bathroom. It must have been a few hours at least, since you’d only drank a little at work. You guess it’s around 6 pm, before night peaks around the earth in full. All you do is stare at your reflection and wonder how you let two enemies into your bookstore.
The metal door at the corner of the room creaks with effort. When you turn your head, Phil is standing there, sealed plastic water bottle in hand. “How’re ya feelin’?” You stay silent behind the gag, content to glare at your former assistant. He sighs and closes the door. You hear someone lock it from the outside. Phil approaches cautiously, opening the water bottle as he walks.
“‘m takin’ your gag off and you’re gonna be a good girl and not scream.” The phrase good girl is like poison to your ears. Something only your husband is allowed to call you. You stay bitterly silent as he tugs down your gag, dirty fingers brushing your face. You force yourself not to react, eyes trained on him. Phil brings the water bottle to your lips, tilting your head back to drink. While you would refuse out of spite, you don’t know the next time you’ll get water. Drops of water slip down your jaw, cooling your skin even more.
“Now, I’ve got some questions for you, sugar. Answer ‘em and you’ll be outta here in no time.” He leans back against the wall, hands in his pockets. You have a feeling you won’t be getting a bathroom or dinner anytime soon.
-
Stupid Kate and her no-phone rule. She’s notoriously strict with devices when meeting with clients, especially potential ones. John was in that meeting for many grueling hours with a potential gun vendor, watching the clock hands tick by. He needs to call his wife, needs to hear you reassure him that it was just a fight, that you’ll talk it out and be okay eventually.
Finally, Kate lets them free a bit after six. John immediately grabs his phone from Laswell’s secretary and frowns at the slur of notifications on his screen, mainly from Gaz. He forgoes reading them, calling him while mentally calculating how fast he could see you.
“Sir, we need you at the bookstore immediately.” It sets off alarms in his head. Why would he be needed there? “What aren’t ya tellin’ me, Garrick?” John finds his driver waiting outside the office and signals to him to get going. “Shepherd got ‘er. The two assistants were his. We’re tryin’ to find her but she’s gone, sir.” John barks at his driver to step on it, then puts the phone back to his ear. You’re gone. You can’t be gone. You’re supposed to be waiting for him at the Castle, brows furrowed why he explains why he really couldn’t take you on that trip. Why you seem to be the person he forgot to search for in a past life, with your unruly snickers and magnificent brain. You’re not supposed to be gone.
John bursts into the half-made store, panting from anger. His people are untying Terrance in the corner, a medic pressing an ice pack against a nasty bump on his head. Kyle’s on the phone, barking orders to someone on the other side.
Their movements stop when their boss bursts in. Tie half-done, hair wrecked from hands going through it. Flustered. A hundred eyes track him and none are the ones he wants. There’s only one thing on his mind.
“Where is my wife?”
-
Simon shoots out of bed, breathing hard. Johnny’s used to his nightmares, tugging his shoulder to bring him back down. Unlike other nights, his husband stays sitting up. It’s enough to raise an alarm.
“Bad dream, lamb?” Moonlight traces Simon’s scars reverently, turning them into rivers of silver. Sometimes it hurts to look at him for too long, but Johnny wills himself to focus. “Somethin’s wrong.” Simon murmurs. He reaches for his phone and dials someone. Johnny can guess who. The call goes to voicemail at the first ring. “Ye ken she’s on do not disturb.” Simon calls again and while usually it would go through on DND, it cuts short again. While he tries for another call, Johnny turns to grab his own phone, calling the man he loathes.
“Garrick.” He sounds angry and out of breath, unusual at this late hour. “Ghost is wonderin’ where his sister is. The lass’s phone isnae workin’.” Instead of biting out a sharp comment, Garrick takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself. Johnny sits up on instinct, putting the phone on speaker and preparing himself for the worst. “She’s been kidnapped.” Johnny goes to speak but Simon covers his mouth, shaking his head. “I was about to call y’. Shepherd’s men took ‘er at the shop. Two were workin’ on the inside and slipped through. We don’t know-“ Simon snatches the phone and barks out a reply. “We’ll see you in 2 hours. Fuckin’ find ‘er Garrick.” He hangs up and the men get ready robotically, grabbing their respective guns before calling the pilot. Before they head to the helipad, Johnny grabs his husband’s neck and brings his forehead to his own. “We’ll find ‘er.” Simon nods and that’s that. There’s no other option.
-
“An’ here’s the security code f’r the guns.” Simon gestures to the passcode locks on the hundreds of secure cases. “And I need to know this because…?” Your brother sighs, then peeks down to check something on his iPad. “In case Price forgets. In case ya need to launch a coup. In case you wan’ a new weapon. Take your pick, kid.” You punch his arm, then crowd the tablet so you can memorize the code. Only Simon, Johnny, Price, and now you know this code. Not even Price’s head of security. You leave for wedding preparations tomorrow, and instead of watching Sex and the City reruns with Si, he’s forcing you to train like a military recruit. Running you through security codes, showing you how the weapons transfer will work between him and Price. He’s always let you shadow his work but this is different, a new responsibility on your shoulders.
You know it took a lot for him to allow this. Your brother distrusts everyone, like he believes he’ll be betrayed every morning. “Thanks for showing me this, Si.” You murmur, trusting eyes meeting his. The basement of your mansion, where the weapons are stored, is cool and sterile. An opposing force to the figure of your brother, warm and painted in nostalgia that you’re already trying to not think about. “Can’t have ya in the dark, love. Now tell me the code again.”
“I don’t know the codes.”
Phil glares at you. His personality is so at odds with the assistant you trained in your store. Gone is the happy-go-lucky Southerner that you knew would charm all types of clientele. In his place is a stone-faced man tasked with extracting every single one of your secrets. What a waste of time. You might not be your brother, but at the end of the day, you’re a Riley through and through.
“You’re askin’ me to believe that the Ghost didn’t give his sister the codes to the weapons he was sellin’ her for?” You shrug, unaffected. “Like you said, he sold me. I was more concerned with that than learning how his weapons worked.” He frowns, hands flexing in his pockets. “That don’t make ya feel bad? Gettin’ sold like a cow?” You snort at the comparison. “At least cows get slaughtered. I’m in purgatory in this never-ending marriage with John.” Phil comes closer. He switches from standing to squatting on his haunches, his eyes a little under yours. You wonder why he wants the codes. Does this mean John’s security holdings are compromised? The cases were designed by Johnny himself, impervious to any sort of hacking software.
“From what I saw in the store, you seemed pretty in love.” You shrug again. The best lies, you’ve found, are woven with a thread of truth. “He’s hot. We fuck. Don’t tell me you can’t separate love from lust?” Phil doesn’t say anything. He wants you to keep talking in the uncomfortable silence, but you won’t give in. The shade of his eyes are all wrong, too light. You prefer blue eyes dark and possessive, gripping you in their stare.
After a few seconds, he breaks the staring contest, looking down at the floor. “If you don’t have the codes, you’re not of much worth to us.” You shrug again, willing your hands not to shake. “Then I guess you’ll have to get rid of me.” When he looks back at you, there’s an unnerving grin on his face. “Nah. You know them, I’m sure. We’ll just have to use other methods.”
-
“Favorite takeaway cuisine?”
“Indian. You?”
“Thai. Love me some yellow chicken curry.”
John doesn’t know what that is, so he stays silent. You drop your spoon in your cereal, eyebrows strung together in disbelief. “You’ve never had Thai?” It’s almost a shriek. He’d laugh if he wasn’t sure you’d fling milk at him. “Gaz’s allergic to tofu an’ real superstitious about it. Thinks it’s in the curry even if we get meat.” You bark out a laugh. He’s so glad he didn’t have any morning meetings today. It’s a rare weekday breakfast together and he’s enjoying the get-to-know-you questions you’re flinging his way.
“Childhood pets?”
“One dog. Got forced to turn him out to the street when I was eleven.” Instead of answering the question, you frown with a pout. “That’s so cruel.” He nods, flicking his eyes away so he doesn’t have to see the pity in them. ��My father was a cruel man. Didn’t like things tha’ made a mess, includin’ pets. Or his son.” When he looks back, though, it’s not pity in your eyes. It’s understanding. There’s a new bond of solidarity between you, formed by men that weren’t supposed to become fathers. “I think you’d be a good father, John.” He shrugs, grabbing your free hand on the table and stroking your knuckles.
“Know I’ve got to be one, but not the most excited about it.” It’s a confession he’s never told anyone. He knows he can be a good father, a good leader, but there’s never been that need inside of him to create new life. The way he lives is not good for children. He can imagine it in another life, packing school lunches and doing pickup, but it feels so limited in this one. Restrained to the house, no playdates or public swimming lessons. Anything is too dangerous for someone with his name.
“Can I tell you a secret?” You murmur in a serious tone not meant for the morning. He squeezes your hand before meeting your eyes, wet with unspoken emotion. “I know how to be a good mom, but I don’t really want to be one.” His stomach drops. He’s never heard someone say it so resolutely as him. “Why’s tha’?” He croaks out. “This life…it would be like an animal breeding in captivity. They never get to experience the joys of the wilderness. They’re restricted to the four walls around them. I’d become a captive too, never my own person again. Mother first. I respect others who do it but I just…dread it.” This time, it’s John nodding in understanding. He pulls his chair closer to yours until your legs tangle under the table like a secret.
“What if we didn’t have kids?” You whisper. He shakes his head regretfully. “I need an heir, sweetheart. If I don’t have one, there’d be mutiny.” You bite your lip in concentration and he’s entranced by it. The push of your teeth against the plumpness of your skin is magic. “What if we adopted?” Again, he shakes his head. He’s thought about that avenue too many times to count. “Can’t willingly bring a kid that’s not even mine into this shit.” This time it’s you shaking your head, moving closer until you’re practically in his lap.
“Unofficial adoption. Someone that’s past 18.” It takes a second to register. You both say the same name at the same time: “Gaz.” It’s not unheard of, passing to a non-biological heir. Mainly when the couple has problems with fertility. Usually, the new heir would change their last name for the sake of tradition. You push out of your chair and plop down on his thigh, hands running through his beard in that way that grounds him. “We could tell them I’m infertile.” He hums thoughtfully. “Maybe invent a miscarriage to really get that pity.” You move to his thick head of hair, massaging his scalp. “Wait two years to make it look like we really tried. Announce it on our wedding anniversary for full effect.” You kiss the tip of his nose. A goddess in his lap and you want him. He still can’t believe it.
“Would he want it?” John rarely asks questions, but this one is important. You nod immediately, self-assured. “He loves you like a father, John. I think he’d protest, but eventually say yes.” John captures your lips in a kiss, rough and fast. He pulls away, leaving a string of saliva between you. “I’d get a vasectomy. I’m not fuckin’ you with a condom the rest of my life.” Your eyes flare and he suddenly worries he said the wrong thing. “The rest of your life?” He nods, squeezing your hip. “If you’ll have me.” You grin and it’s the start of his demise.
-
i know this is a little shorter than usual but the kidnapping will be multiple chapters so pls stick with me :) im hoping to finish by the end of feburary but tbd. also taglist is full so she's closed sorry about that!
-
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Housemates | Leah Williamson x Reader
synopsis: just platonic housemate things x
warnings: kind of suggestive
word count: 1.9k
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You couldn't sleep.
You have been lying in bed, in the dark, for the past hour just staring up at the ceiling. You tried to distract yourself with your phone, scrolling through tiktok for a few minutes before you eventually got bored and decided the silence was better company.
But now the silence was too much.
Shaking off your duvet, you heft yourself out of bed, mentally cursing the cool rush of cold air. You debated slipping on a pair of pyjama pants, but decided against it. You only ever went to sleep with an oversized t-shirt. Braless, and pants-less.
You don't even bother slipping on your slippers, opting to just tiptoe your way out of your own room. Feeling for the doorknob, you twist it open.
A dull, gray light filters through the windows, a weak moon casting long shadows across the living room as you dart past, tiptoeing across marble floors. You regret not wearing your slippers.
You squint in the dark, recognising the faint outline of the sofa, its upholstery frayed in places. Next to it the dark wood surface of the coffee table is engulfed by lingering shadows. You couldn’t even guess the time— if it was late night, or early morning.
Your footsteps were unhurried and confident as you climb the stairs, step by step. It was almost like you were in a trance. The short journey was natural, instinctive— habitual, almost.
There were definitely perks to having such a great housemate. When you first moved to London, you weren’t expecting to live with a footballer. Your older sister had told you that an old friend of hers from sixth-form had a spare room to rent out, and you immediately jumped at the chance to live in central London for a really, really good price.
You certainly weren’t expecting the old friend to be Leah Williamson, captain of the women's national team.
Making your way to the only room in the second floor, you push the door open with zero hesitation, as if opening the pages of a well-worn book, already prepared for what you were about to see behind the doors.
You see a mass of dark hair peaking out of the covers first, dark and inviting.
The only light that spills into the room is faint. Shadows of moonlight peek through the edges of the curtains. It enters the room, pooling into the corners, tracing the outlines of the furniture in ghostly, quiet silver. The streams of light touch the edges of the bedspread and trace the curves of the headboard, highlighting the subtle grain of the dark wood interior.
Tiptoeing over to one side of the bed, you clear your throat loudly before you shake the figure awake.
“Wake up.”
A quiet moan sounds from beneath the covers. You roll your eyes, already annoyed at the extra company. You’ve done this routine far too many times at this point. You feel for a bony shoulder and nudge it again, a little harsher this time.
“Oi. Up you get, c'mon” You raise your voice a little louder. Since when did scaring random women out of your housemates' bed become your part-time job?
The stranger finally wakes up. She opens her eyes, squinting up at you, a look of annoyance written all over her face.
Sadly for her, you could not find it in you to care one bit.
She was pretty, to be fair. Minus the smudged black eyeliner decorating her face and the pillow lines across her cheeks.
Must've been a wild night then.
You ignore the sudden twinge you felt in your chest.
The mystery woman speaks. “w-whats going on?”
Good thing she’s not a screamer like some of the others.
"Did you not hear me the first time? Get up and leave"
The woman turns to Leah who is still fast asleep and nudges her, as if asking for help. These woman are all the same. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, shifting on your feet. The floor was cold and you’d ideally like to be underneath warm covers right now.
"L-Leah..." All she gets is a groan of annoyance. The woman in question shifts further away from her bedmate until she is nearly at the end of the bed. You couldn't help but chuckle, quickly masking it with a hand over your mouth when a noise unintentionally escapes your lips.
Unfortunately for you, this one was stubborn and desperate.
She fishes her arm out from under the covers and shakes Leah’s shoulder even harder. When she realises that her one night stand wasn’t budging, she finally sits up against the headboard.
The blanket falls slightly off of her frame, exposing one bare shoulder.
There’s that weird tight feeling in your chest again.
You advert you eyes to the sleeping blonde with her back turned towards you. You were tempted to grab a pillow and start smacking her until she woke up. The annoying fucker.
"Who even are you?" The woman pipes up, her voice scratchy, like nails on a chalk board.
"Her fiancée."
You could've cackled straight to her face at the way the woman's eyes widen like saucers, looking back and fourth between you and the blonde’s back.
But then you hear a low chuckle from the other side of the bed.
Thank god.
“Leah, tell your little friend here to leave”
The Lionesses captain rolls over to face you the both of you, still blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She raised her arms up to stretch, giving you a peak of a black Nike sports bra.
The small smile she gives you is full of Williamson snark, as if she fully anticipated the sight before her. You weren't new to kicking her one-night endeavours out of her bed, and it's almost as if she found some weird enjoyment out of this.
Finally she address her new buddy. “You should go”
“Excuse me?” The audacity of this woman.
“You heard my fiancée, get out.”
The woman doesn't wait a minute longer. She huffs, throwing off the blanket muttering under her breath. You swear you heard her utter “bastard” somewhere in there.
Luckily, she was semi-dressed, wearing a strapless bra and a pair of underwear. You had seen far too many naked bodies before and you would ideally like to not see any more.
She grabs her clothes littered all over the floor, half-assedly throwing them on as she fumbles with buttons and zippers. Her movements were sharp, impatient, as she darts all over the room. Without a glance back at the two of you, she scurries out, slamming the door behind her.
Turning back to the blonde, you find her sitting up and already staring at you. Seeing her one-night stands run around like headless chickens the morning after was the norm for the blonde. While she explicitly states that she’s in for a good time, not a long time, others do still like to push their luck.
Luckily, you’re there to snap them back to reality.
"Well...she seemed nice"
The England captain rolls her eyes, flopping back on the bed. "You scared her off"
Scoffing, peeling back the covers and slide in the now empty space beside her. The spot has been kindly warmed up for you, how nice. “Want me to call her back in here then—?”
You make a move to get back out of bed, but Leah grabs your wrist, tugging you down and draping the covers back over you.
“Nahh, I’ve got you now. Can’t sleep?”
“No.” You sit up, leaning half of your body up against the headboard. You’ve been in and out of sleep the past couple of hours. “That’s why I’m in your bed”
“To talk?”
You side-eye her, sensing an accusatory undertone. “Yeah. To talk”
“Besides,” You poke her on the arm. "I’ve got to keep my fiancée in check"
You share a laugh.
"Wasn't as bad as the time I called you my wife" Leah chuckles, low and breathy. She turns to you, sharing a smile as you both reminisce the pure look of horror on that poor woman's face.
Fun times.
Before you could say anything else, Leah moves over, laying her head on your chest and getting comfortable again. She had the worst case of bedhead, you think to yourself as you look down at the mess of blonde locks.
You smile as you run your fingers gently through the soft strands of blonde.
She hums at the action, her body visibly relaxing. She seemed to take it as a sign to scoot closer to you, so she does. She drapes an arm across your waist, dragging you closer to her own body, snuggling further into your side. The blanket wasn't the only thing offering you warmth right now but you ignore that fact for now.
You both bask in the silence for a minute. While you were preoccupied, trying to comb through her hair, you failed to notice sly fingers curling under your oversized t-shirt.
Your breath hitches as a warm finger strokes the skin by your hip. For a split second you freeze, but then you remember it's just Leah.
It’s just your housemate.
Her finger continues to caress the lace resting on your skin before she makes a humming sound again, to herself, as if in deep thought.
After a while, she speaks again. Her finger not having left your skin. "This is new”
You hum in agreement. It was indeed new. A cheeky little purchase from Agent Provocateur, a gift to yourself after the shitty week you’ve had.
“It's lace,” a finger hooks into the band, pulling it away from your skin briefly. "…and satin, huh"
Her fingers dance across the scallop lace details by your hips, caressing the material like this is a normal occurrence between housemates. The air between you is thick with the weight of what isn’t being said.
You let her, selfishly enjoying her delicate touch against your skin.
"yeah," clearing your throat, you squeeze your legs together for a moment, praying she didn't notice. But you doubt that when the gentle touches move down to your bare thigh, massaging the tense flesh.
You try to ignore the urge to keep your leg still instead of pressing it further into her palm, a greedy little thing. Her touch is soothing and natural. As if this is all a regular occurrence. You continue, "It's from their new collection— it’s pink”
You're not sure why you felt like you had to share that information. It's almost as if you were tongue-tied and can only focus on the fingers still tracing patterns on your skin.
Leah shifts slightly, squinting up at you. Pretty blue eyes meet yours, scanning, searching for something. The air between you thickens, charged.
"yeah?" she murmurs, her voice low and husky. Traces of sleep still linger in her voice and you find yourself oddly lulled by the sound of it.
You nod, adverting your gaze. Lately, you've found yourself unable to meet her eyes at times. You focus on combing her hair back, the bangs she had cut short a few months ago now long enough that it drapes over her eyes.
She continues to look up at you, cerulean blue eyes almost yearning for your attention again. You couldn't ignore them from your peripheral, so you will yourself to meet them with your own.
Whatever she sees in your eyes seem to dictate her next move. She drops her gaze to where her fingers are slowly pulling up your t-shirt, exposing bare skin, until they grant her a peek of magenta pink lace.
“oh yeah,” She agrees, more to herself. As if it was necessary for her to see it with her own to eyes.
She smirks that annoyingly attractive smile before she lets the shirt drop back down over your hips. You can almost taste the air she breathes, a sharp sweetness that clings to your tongue. “s’nice, baby.”
Leah runs her hands over your hips, above the shirt. She’ll keep the memory of pretty pink against your bare skin tucked safely in the back of her mind; cradled in the quiet, sacred corners of her thoughts, where nothing but longing stirs.
She then slides her fingers back under the material again, keeping them there, her touch less hesitant and firmer this time. You won’t be surprised if you find finger marks around your hips and thighs tomorrow morning.
You feel her thumb start to rub circles on your bare skin again, moving greedily against the lace. Her breath fans your neck, close enough that you could just about feel her lips, whispering a secret only meant for you. “I like those on you"
oh to be platonic housemates with a hot football player (who also happens to notice when you’re wearing new underwear) x
・❥・- kisses, butter
*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!
#leah williamson#woso#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso blurbs#woso community#leah williamson imagine#my fics#woso one shot#leah williamson fanfic#leah williamson x you#spoiled!reader#spoiled!reader stories#leah williamson x reader
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Hi hii!
New follower here!
Love your writings, I love how you write for each of the TF141 my men 😌.
Just wanted to hop in and ask how would you think each of the men would react if they found out their SO has a MAGNIFICENT singing voice. 😊
Oki that’s it haha. 😅
Hi! Hello! At the time of you sending this in, you were a new follower, but it has been a MINUTE! (And by minute I mean several months; y'all I am very backlogged on imagines requests). So, welcome! Hello! Happy you're here!
I adore this ask. It's so CUTE. Love the idea of reader not revealing that they can sing and just surprising them in either very odd or normal ways. Like, reader doesn't think it's a big deal but the guys do!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, swearing, brief suggestive themes, undercover, tf141!reader (Soap's), nondescript nudity, fluff, karaoke, alcohol
Word Count: 1.2k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
John Price
John settles against the booth, his gaze roaming over the crowd. Cigar smoke lingers in the air, and the only light comes from tiny candles at each of the tables. His target is here, sitting at a table at the front of the room next to the stage.
You are somewhere behind the scenes—somewhere backstage. It annoys John that you volunteered to do this, to put yourself on display, and it irritates him further that he cares at all. Whatever interest he feels needs to be set aside. You are his coworker—a teammate. It can’t be more than that when the two of you are in the field. It doesn’t matter that it’s his name you moan in the dark.
But you’re the bait—the pretty thing that will catch the target’s interest and reel him in, and that makes John’s blood fucking boil.
The announcer appears on stage, dropping your fake name. The crowd politely claps and John steels himself.
As the curtain opens, John expects you to be clad in something revealing, to parade around and undress further. This club is known for that, but instead, you twinkle like starlight. The dress itself might appear to be nothing but air with the appearance of sheerness, but there is nothing revealed to the naked eye.
No. You’re covered. And you take nothing off.
A live band starts to play. You open your mouth, and beauty emerges, enveloping John like a snug hug.
Every note is magnificent. Gorgeous. You are angelic and seductive in equal measure. A siren on stage luring all in attendance to their end.
How did he not know you could sing like this?
John’s mouth falls open, the whiskey in front of him forgotten.
“Are you hearing this, captain?” Soap’s voice crackles through the earpiece.
“Yeah,” he coughs. “I hear it.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
It’s all quiet on base. Most are down for the night; the only ones awake are on guard at the gates or on routine patrol.
Johnny is freshly showered and ready to go home. All he needs is to check in on you.
With towel hanging loosely on his hips, Johnny discreetly enters the women’s communal showers. He’d never do this, but he knows you’re alone. What he doesn’t expect is to hear your voice. You’re not speaking to yourself—or anyone. The place is completely empty.
You’re…singing.
Actually, singing. And not that weird off-key shit one might do in the shower. This is true singing. Your voice is goddamn gorgeous—angelic.
Johnny stands in silence for a moment, simply listening, allowing the steam from your shower to curl around him just like your voice. His feet begin to move across the floor and then he’s right there in front of the curtain. He yanks it open.
You turn, eyes widening, the song you’re singing becoming a surprised squawk. “Johnny!”
Without looking away, Johnny removes the towel and hangs it up. Stepping inside, he shuts the curtain, trapping you between him and the tile wall.
“You never told me you could sing.”
“You never asked?” you reply, arms covering your breasts.
It’s cute that you’d hide from him like this. He’s seen it all anyway.
Smirking, Johnny places one hand against the wall. Leaning in, he lowers his voice into a gentle coo. “What else are you hiding from me?”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“He’s cute, Johnny.”
Soap beams. Simon has never seen him so happy. “Takes after his mum.”
“Thank fuck for that,” chuckles Simon. “You’re an ugly bloke.” He lightly nudges Johnny’s arm with his elbow. Somehow, the man’s smile widens.
On the sofa, you sit next to Johnny’s wife. She’s transferring their son into your arms. He fusses a bit, tiny fits waving around, face pinched in annoyance.
“Hello,” you coo, your smile so sweet and soft it twists something deep in Simon’s stomach. The infant stretches and makes an irritated gurgle, his face growing red as a tantrum bubbles up. “Oh. None of that now,” you murmur.
There is no panic on your face. Instead of handing him back to his mother, you hold him close, and start to sing. It’s a light melody, a gentle song that even soothes Simon as he listens. The infant hiccups, eyes widening slightly in surprise, and then promptly calms. Those gorgeously blue eyes are focused on your face, completely enthralled.
Simon knows so much about you, but how did he not know this? Johnny’s smile even faulters, his own surprise apparent.
He leans in, whispering in Simon’s direction. “Did you know she could sing like that?”
“No,” replies Simon, his attention locked in on your serenade.
As you continue, the child’s eyelids grow heavy, eventually closing altogether. When your song comes to a close, you glance up at Simon, smiling.
Johnny chuckles, and Simon shoots him a look. “What?”
“Think you’re next.”
Simon frowns. “Next what, Johnny?” That shit-eating grin is back on Soap’s face. “Next what?!”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (can be read gn!reader)
Price reclines against the vinyl, eyes closed, arms crossed, and legs spread. Simon sits off to his left, awake and alert but clearly not wanting to be there. Kyle observes it all from his spot on the L-shaped couch.
You and Soap stand next to the karaoke machine, the two of you whispering and giggling as you sift through all the options. The two of you picked this place—a karaoke lounge full of private rooms for groups of all sizes. Payment is by the hour.
The massive flatscreen television on the wall rolls through different local advertisements as well as what’s on the menu. The prices for a single beverage are fucking outrageous.
“Pick something yet?” grumbles Simon.
Price doesn’t even budge. He might be out cold.
Kyle grins, basking in your joy. This is the first time the team is meeting you in person and not hearing about you secondhand. Soap flips Simon off and you press a hand over your mouth, glancing at Kyle for reassurance.
Soap holds out a microphone to you and you take it, the two of you standing on either side of the couch, and turned toward the television. The screen shifts, and then the opening notes of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” start playing. The original music video appears, and over it is the opening words.
“You’re fucking joking, mate,” groans Simon, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees.
Soap is off-key. It’s honestly some of the worst singing Kyle has ever heard. But you? You’re fucking killing it. Hitting every note, making up for Soap’s terrible tune, and still smiling through it all. Kyle has been with you for several months now, and he had no idea you could sing like this.
You and Johnny start moving around the room, dancing and pointing and having the time of your lives. Kyle can’t help but smile, to enjoy the experience of simply watching you having fun with the people he not only considers his teammates but his friends.
As the song wraps up, Simon pushes off from the couch and snags the microphone right out of Soap’s hands.
“You’re done, Johnny.”
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Conquer Dust and Insects with the Buzz Lite AIR L 1200 MM Sleek Design Air Curtain
Conquer Dust and Insects with the Buzz Lite AIR L 1200 MM Sleek Design Air Curtain #buzzlite #aircurtain #airdoor #bestaircurtain
Garage Door Air Curtain: Keep Pests & Dust Out | Buzz Lite AIR L 1200MM Conquer Dust and Insects with the Buzz Lite AIR L 1200 MM Sleek Design Air Curtain Garages often become a dumping ground for dust, leaves, insects, and even unwanted critters. Keeping them clean and comfortable can be a challenge, especially if you use your garage as a workshop, storage space, or even a home gym. A garage…
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Air Curtain Price Guide: Compare and Find the Best Deals on Air Curtains
Are you looking for the perfect air curtain for your establishment? Our comprehensive Air Curtain Price Guide is here to help you find the best deals on air curtains that suit your needs and budget. Whether you need an air curtain for a commercial space, a restaurant, or a retail store, we've got you covered. Compare prices, features, and specifications of top air curtain brands, and make an informed decision before making your purchase.
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Air Curtain Price Guide: Affordable Solutions for Optimal Climate Control
Discover the perfect balance between cost and efficiency with our comprehensive air curtain price guide at aircurtains.co.in. Our dedicated website offers a wide range of air curtain options, each carefully priced to suit various budgets.
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★ — HELP WANTED
★ — pairing : canon/contractor!abby anderson x fem!reader
★ — as a new homeowner, paying full price to get a remodel on things was so expensive. luckily abby anderson gave pretty faces major discounts.
★ — warnings : sexual content
🔖 : @thaatdigitaldiary @d3arapril @rosemariiaa @ashortyluvsports
you weren’t much of a handyman—or handywoman, for that matter. when you moved into your new house, you quickly realized that the charm of its old bones came with a laundry list of things that needed fixing: a leaky faucet, creaky doors, shelves that threatened to collapse if you so much as looked at them.
that’s how you met abby anderson.
the first time you saw her, she was unloading a truck across the street, all lean muscles and work boots, her blonde braid sticking out from under a baseball cap. you didn’t think much of it at first, too busy trying to wrestle a box through your own front door. but when you dropped it with a loud thud, she appeared out of nowhere.
“you need a hand?”
her voice was warm, slightly teasing, and when you looked up, you were momentarily struck by her presence. abby was… well, extremely beautiful. sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders, and a crooked smile that could melt steel.
——
after helping you with the box, abby quickly learned about your diy incompetence.
“so,” she said a few days later, leaning against the doorframe as you struggled to fix a curtain rod. “you always this good with tools, or am i just special enough to witness it?”
you turned, rolling your eyes at her smirk. “yeah, yeah, laugh it up. at least i’m trying.”
she chuckled, her gaze dropping to the small pile of mismatched screws and nails at your feet. “tell you what—how about i come by this weekend and help you out? i’m pretty handy, if i do say so myself.”
you hesitated, but the truth was you needed the help. “are you sure? i don’t wanna intrude.”
“darlin’,” she said, stepping closer and giving you a lopsided grin. “it’d be my pleasure.”
——
that sunday, abby showed up in a tank top and work pants, a toolbox slung over one shoulder. she whistled low when you opened the door.
“well, look at you,” she said, her eyes dragging over the black cropped tank you had on, showing off the bold tattoo on your right shoulder. “you dress up for me?”
you blushed, shaking your head. “you wish.”
“maybe i do,” she replied, her voice dropping slightly as she brushed past you, her shoulder grazing yours.
the day passed with abby fixing things at lightning speed while you hovered nearby, asking questions and offering her water or snacks. she made it impossible to concentrate, the way her muscles flexed when she tightened screws or hammered nails.
at one point, she caught you staring.
“enjoyin’ the view, ma’am?” she asked, smirking as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
you stammered, “i—i was just tryna’ make sure you were doin’ it right, that’s all.”
“uh-huh.” she leaned closer, her voice dipping into something more intimate. “if you’ve got any other… inspections in mind, let me know.”
your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face.
——
by the time the sun set, abby had fixed more in one day than you thought possible. the two of you were sitting on the floor of your living room, surrounded by tools and scraps, laughing about the crooked shelf you had tried to install before she arrived.
“i can’t believe you thought duct tape would hold that up,” she teased, nudging you with her knee.
“look, desperate times, desperate measures,” you defended, shaking your head. “besides, you’re the expert. that’s why i have you now.”
her smile softened, and for a moment, the teasing faded. “yeah,” she said quietly. “you do.”
the air between you shifted, tension crackling like a live wire. abby’s gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt your breath catch.
“i—“ you started, but the words got stuck in your throat when abby reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“you’re something else, y’know that?” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “been drivin’ me crazy all day.”
your heart hammered in your chest. “abby…”
“tell me to stop,” she said, her forehead nearly touching yours now. “i will. just say the word.”
instead of answering, you closed the gap, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that was so soft at first but quickly deepened. abby’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer as the tension of the day finally snapped.
when you pulled back, breathless, she smirked. “so… does this mean i’m gettin’ that ‘thank-you’ dinner you promised?”
you laughed, tugging her back in. “dinner can wait.”
——
abby had you sprawled against your bed, the same bed that she fixed hours earlier. your bra was thrown across the room, landing on the vanity she just remodeled.
“fuckin’ beautiful, i fuckin’ knew it,” she says, looking at you like prey, and you can feel yourself salivating at the way her muscles bulge when she manhandles you. “spread those legs, sweetheart, lemme’ see you.”
you spread yourself to abby’s liking, your pants and panties discarded on your rug, leaving you fully bare in front of your next-door-neighbor.
her mouth damn near waters at the sight, your folds glistening in slick, simply because she talks to you nice. abby eats that shit up, making sure the neighborhood knows she does this to you.
“let me in, baby.” she says, as her fingers start pumping in and out of your pussy, the squelching noise driving her batshit crazy. she’s on top of you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “pussy’s talkin’ to me, isn’t she?” she says, inserting another finger inside of you.
“shitttt, abby, don’t talk like that.” you whimper, causing abby’s pace to speed up when she hits that sweet spot inside of you, causing your moans to grow louder and louder.
“shh… gotta be quiet sweetheart, you just got here—you want the neighbors to know my name already?” she whispers against your skin, leaving messy kisses along your tits.
she’s forcing you to grind into her fingers, the show your giving alone making her boxers a soaked mess.
“p—please, abby…” you pant, your head spinning and baby hairs sticking to your forehead.
“i’ll give it to ya’ sweet girl, always so fuckin’ patient, yeah?” abby’s breath starts to hitch as you dig your nails into her back, her chest clad with a black sports bra.
“gonna… abby please, i’m so close—,” you manage to let out, and abby takes this as a signal to let you finish. she holds your body down, pumping at lightning speed, listening to your moans grow and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“c’mon sweetheart, all over my fingers.” your stomach snaps, and sudden flow rushes through your body and right onto abby’s digits. you were shaking, abby’s thick fingers leaving you in a trance, all of her handy work being put to use.
“jesus, abby. you do this to all your new neighbors?” you say, attempting to catch your breath.
“nah, just you honey.”
——
the night stretched on, filled with whispered laughs and stolen kisses, and for once, you were thankful for all the broken things that had brought her to your door.
#abby anderson#abby anderson smut#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson x reader#abby tlou#abby the last of us#kennedy’s works ⋆·˚ ༘ *
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The Dynamics of Commercial Air Curtains and Where to Buy Them
Welcome to the realm of enhanced commercial environments, where comfort and efficiency converge seamlessly. In this exploration, we unravel the significance of commercial air curtains and guide you on where to buy these innovative solutions for your business.
Commercial Air Curtain: Elevating Indoor Spaces
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Buying Air Curtains: Navigating the Procurement Process
Identify Business Needs: Before venturing into the purchasing process, identify the specific needs of your business. Consider factors such as the size of entrances, the desired level of climate control, and any specific requirements for dust or pest prevention.
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Consider Installation and Maintenance: Factor in the ease of installation and ongoing maintenance when selecting commercial air curtains. Choose models that align with your business's infrastructure and are user-friendly for installation and routine upkeep.
Where to Buy Air Curtains: Your Guide to Procurement
Specialized HVAC Retailers: Explore specialized heating, ventilation, and air conditioning (HVAC) retailers that offer a range of commercial air curtain options. These retailers often provide expert guidance to help you choose the right model for your business.
Online HVAC Marketplaces: Online marketplaces dedicated to HVAC solutions provide a convenient platform for purchasing commercial air curtains. These platforms offer a wide selection, detailed product information, and customer reviews to aid in decision-making.
Direct from Manufacturers: Consider purchasing commercial air curtains directly from reputable manufacturers. This ensures that you receive authentic products and may also provide the opportunity to customize solutions based on your business's unique requirements.
Conclusion: Enhancing Commercial Spaces with Air Curtain Excellence
As you embark on the journey to enhance your commercial space with the efficiency of air curtains, remember that the right choice can make a significant impact. From energy efficiency to customer comfort, these innovations contribute to a seamless and comfortable environment. By understanding your business needs and exploring trusted suppliers, you can elevate your commercial space with the power of commercial air curtains and buy air curtains accordingly. Embrace the possibilities, and let your business thrive in an environment where comfort meets efficiency.
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