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The Eco-Friendly Benefits of Using Grab Truck Hire
Introduction: Importance of eco-friendly waste disposal
Imagine a world where waste disappears without leaving a detrimental impact on the environment. A world where every discarded item is recycled, repurposed, or disposed of in a way that nurtures rather than harms our planet. This utopian vision may seem like a distant dream, but with the growing importance of eco-friendly waste disposal practices, it could become a reality sooner than we think. In this article, we delve into the crucial role that sustainable waste management plays in preserving our planet and discuss how services like best grab truck hire are revolutionizing the way we handle and dispose of waste. So buckle up as we embark on a journey to explore the vital significance of eco-friendly waste disposal in shaping a greener and more sustainable future for generations to come.
Reduced carbon emissions from transportation
The shift towards reduced carbon emissions in transportation signifies a vital evolution in environmental consciousness. With the rise of initiatives promoting sustainable transport options, like electric vehicles and public transit systems, there's an optimistic trajectory towards a cleaner future. Companies offering services such as cheap grab hire London are also contributing to this movement by emphasizing eco-friendly practices in waste management solutions.
Reducing carbon emissions from transportation not only benefits the environment but also unlocks economic opportunities. As more people opt for green modes of transport, industries can capitalize on developing innovative technologies and services that cater to this growing market demand. Additionally, the collective effort to cut down on emissions highlights a global commitment to combatting climate change and fostering a more sustainable way of living.
Efficient waste sorting and recycling processes
When it comes to efficient waste sorting and recycling processes, utilizing cheap grab hire services in London can drastically streamline operations. These services provide a cost-effective solution for quickly collecting and removing various types of waste materials, ensuring they are properly sorted and sent to the appropriate recycling facilities. By employing grab hire services, businesses and individuals can save time and effort that would otherwise be spent on manual labor.
Moreover, by embracing advanced technologies such as sorting robots and AI-powered systems, the efficiency of waste recycling processes can be significantly enhanced. These technologies enable precise sorting of different materials based on their composition, leading to higher rates of recycling and less contamination. Additionally, implementing community-wide education programs on the importance of waste separation can encourage more people to actively participate in sustainable recycling practices.
In conclusion, incorporating cheap grab hire services along with cutting-edge technologies and educational initiatives can revolutionize waste sorting and recycling processes. This integrated approach not only improves efficiency but also promotes environmental sustainability by reducing landfill waste and conserving valuable resources. By working together towards these goals, we can create a greener future for generations to come.
Minimization of landfill waste accumulation
One effective way to minimize landfill waste accumulation is through proper waste disposal methods such as recycling and composting. By separating recyclable materials from general waste, individuals and businesses can significantly reduce the amount of rubbish sent to landfills. Another impactful approach is to utilize grab bin hire services in London that offer specialized bins for different types of waste, encouraging segregation and responsible disposal.
Moreover, promoting awareness and education on sustainable waste management practices can help society shift towards more eco-friendly habits. Encouraging the reuse of items, donating unwanted goods, and supporting local initiatives that promote recycling can all contribute to reducing landfill waste accumulation. By maximizing the use of grab bin hire services in London and adopting a community-driven approach towards waste reduction, we can work together towards a cleaner environment for future generations.
Use of biofuels in grab trucks
Grab trucks are increasingly turning to biofuels as a cleaner alternative to traditional diesel. London, known for its commitment to sustainability, has seen a rise in the use of biofuels in grab truck services. By utilizing biodiesel made from renewable resources such as plant oils or animal fats, these vehicles reduce carbon emissions and contribute to a greener environment.
The best grab bin hire companies in London are recognizing the importance of transitioning to biofuels for their fleet. Not only do biofuels offer environmental benefits, but they also provide an opportunity for businesses to showcase their dedication to sustainable practices. As technology advances and more efficient biofuel options become available, the use of biofuels in grab trucks is expected to continue growing in major cities like London.
In addition to reducing greenhouse gas emissions, using biofuels can also help grab truck companies comply with local regulations on air quality and emissions standards. This proactive approach not only benefits the environment but also enhances the reputation of grab bin hire services as eco-conscious operators within the city of London. By prioritizing the adoption of biofuels, grab truck companies are taking positive steps towards creating a cleaner and healthier urban environment for all residents.
Contribution to sustainable resource management
When it comes to sustainable resource management, one of the best practices is utilizing services like grab bin hire in London. These bins are essential for efficient waste collection and management, helping to minimize environmental impact. By choosing the right bin size and segregating waste properly, individuals and businesses can contribute significantly to sustainability efforts.
The use of grab bin hire services also promotes a circular economy by facilitating recycling and proper disposal of waste materials. This not only reduces landfill waste but also conserves valuable resources by allowing for the reuse and repurposing of materials. Ultimately, embracing sustainable resource management practices benefits both the environment and future generations in creating a cleaner and healthier world.
Conclusion: Benefits of choosing grab truck hire
In conclusion, the benefits of choosing grab truck hire, especially in London, are manifold. Firstly, these trucks offer a cost-effective and efficient solution for waste removal and transportation. By opting for grab truck hire, individuals and businesses can save time and money compared to traditional skip hire services.
Secondly, the versatility of grab trucks allows them to access hard-to-reach areas or sites with limited space, offering a practical solution to various waste management challenges. This capability makes them an ideal choice for construction projects or landscaping jobs in urban environments like London. Overall, the convenience and effectiveness of grab truck hire make it a top choice for those seeking reliable waste removal solutions in busy metropolitan areas like London.
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In before I start seeing people bitching about rainbow capitalism MY favorite rainbow capitalism story is about Subaru. Yes the Japanese car company.
In the nineties, they were struggling. They were competing with a dozen other companies targeting the main demographic at the time: white men ages 18-35, especially after a failed luxury car launch with a new ad agency. “What we need is to focus on niche demographics,” they decided, and then focused on people who enjoyed the outdoors. The Subaru was excellent at driving on dirt roads that many other vehicles couldn’t at the time, so it was perfect for all those off-road campers; they started making all-wheel drive standard in all their cars to help with that. And the people who wanted cars to go do outdoor stuff? Lesbians.
Okay. Of course it wasn’t only lesbians buying Subarus. They’re on the list with educators, health-care professionals, and IT people. But the point is, this Japanese car company interviewed this strange demographic (single, female head of household) and realized one important factor: They were lesbians. They liked to be able to use the cars to go do outdoorsy stuff, and they liked that they could use the cars to haul stuff rather than a big truck or van. Subaru had a choice to make then. They had four other demographics they could market to, after all--the educators, the health-care professionals, IT professionals, and straight outdoorsy couples. Their company didn’t hinge on this one “problematic” demographic.
And they decided “fuck it,” and marketed to lesbians anyway. This included offering benefits to American gay and lesbian employees for their domestic partners, so it didn’t look like a cash grab. (This was not a problem. They already offered those in Canada.)
Yes, there was some backlash. They got letters from a grassroots group accusing them of promoting homosexuality, and every letter said they’d no longer be buying from Subaru. “You didn’t buy from us before, either,” Subaru realized, and ignored them. It helped that the team really cared about the plan, and that they had many straight allies to back them up. There was also some initial backlash when Subaru hired women to play a lesbian couple in the commercial, but they quickly found that lesbians preferred more subtlety; “XENA LVR” on a license plate, or bumper stickers with the names of popular LGBTQ+ destinations, or taglines of “Get out. Stay out.” that could be used for the outdoors--or the closet.
Subaru said “We see you. We support you.” They sponsored Pride parades and partnered with Rainbow Card and hired Martina Navratilova as spokeswoman. They put their money where their mouth is and went into it whole hog. In a time where companies did not want to take our money, Subaru said, “Why not? They’re people who drive.” And that was groundbreaking.
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So tired
#no energy for anything tbh#barely want to do roulettes when i get home#opening by myself till 10 or 11 and having to do EVERYTHING alone#still get questioned and accused of not doing anything by people#like. bitch if your goofy ass would open and YOU got stuck having to be responsible for#markdowns. put out fresh kitchen. make ALL the sandwiches. COOK. do grab&go. wait on customers. go get the trucks. etc.#you'd be crying how unfair it is.#like i am so physically and mentally exauated by the time i leave my either 8 or 12 hour shift i dont want to do ANYTHING#oh and add 'clean up after the closers' even though you set them up for success. and they cannot return the favor#AAAAND lets add 'no time for a break because you have so much to do and you dont want to leave a speck out of place because >god forbid<#you forget to do one thing#fucking hate it here sometimes#doesnt help that they keep hiring clowns straight from the circus that end up doing fuck and lie about what they were told/taught#asfghjkl#doesnt help my brainspace.#🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃#work rants#rant rant rant
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Please, Please, Please - pt.1

Summary: “Harry is utterly fascinated by his new neighbor, Y/N, and takes it upon himself to protect her. But little does Y/N know, that Harry may be the person she is supposed to be running from…”
Wc: 5.6k
Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors
Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, bit of gaslighting.
A/N: THIS IS A TWO PART ONE SHOT based on this request. Please note that it is based around the MUSIC VIDEO, not necessarily the song itself! I decided to cut it up into two parts, because it was getting awfully long, and I was too eager to share it with you. Next part will be steamy!
General Masterlist
PART 2
You sigh, looking up at your new home. Well— you think. You're not exactly sure which window is yours, but you will figure it out once you're on the right floor. You adjust the duffel bag that is slung over your shoulder, and grab your suitcase before walking towards the entrance.
With your new set of keys which you got from the landlord yesterday, you open the door to the lobby. Or, hallway with post boxes. That would definitely be a more accurate way to describe it.
When you were little and fantasized about moving into a place of your own, you have to admit, you did imagine something a bit less... intimidating. Unfortunately, you had been left with no choice.
Ever since your dad died about five years ago, your mother has been serial dating like there was no tomorrow. You had learned to ignore the different men in your kitchen, eating the cereal and drinking your coffee at 7am, but lately something had changed.
Your mother had stuck with one man.
Sadly for you—and your mother, although she wasn't ready to admit that—the guy was a fucking prick. Worst thing about him? He was sneaky about it. When you confronted your mother, telling her you weren't sure if her new boyfriend was that good of a guy, she had flipped out. As she threw all kinds of accusations on the table, such as you not wanting her to be happy and even insinuating you want her boyfriend for herself, you decided that enough was enough.
That night, you hunted the internet for an affordable place. It's how you found this apartment. You knew it wasn't the best neighborhood, but it was a place of your own, and you were sure that you could make it on your own over there.
After all, you had a well paid office job not too far away, and the costs of the apartment wouldn't interfere too much with your saving for law school.
So, kind of on a whim, you contacted the landlord. And now, here you are, ready to unpack all of your stuff. Your mother had at least been so kind to hire a moving truck, but you think it mainly had to do with her wanting you out of her house as quick as possible. You shared the sentiment, so you hadn't said much about it, besides a polite thank you of course.
It takes you three hours to get everything upstairs, and the janitor, Rod, even helps you out with some of the big furniture. Being a tall, broad guy, appearing to be in his sixties, you had actually been quite unnerved by him. Nevertheless, you decided to play smart and throw him a sweet smile the first time you ran into him. It had faded the seemingly permanent frown on his ever so slightly, and after introducing yourself, his face was even neutral.
It didn't take more than three minutes of chit chat before Rod had warmed up to you, and by the end of the fifteen minutes, he offered to help you. If it hadn't been for him, you would've still been carrying pieces of your couch into your apartment.
You had been able to take over the bed frame and the dining table from the previous owner, so you only had to put your mattress on your bed before you could let yourself fall on it and chill out for a while.
After letting yourself rest for about fifteen minutes, you unpack as much of the stuff in the kitchen, and you spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes while dancing to the music that blasts through your headphones.
At around midnight, you pass out during a feeble attempt at sorting your socks.
Your peaceful slumber gets interrupted, however, by an array of less peaceful noises coming from another apartment. The first few minutes awake are spent with your eyes stubbornly closed, hoping to fall asleep again, but when you hear an extremely loud thud, your eyes shoot open.
Getting up from your bedroom, you walk over to your door, and look through the peephole. It doesn't seem like there is anyone in the hallway, and the sounds do seem to have quieted down. You sigh, turning around to go back to your bed, when you hear a shout, followed by another thump. Frowning, you go back and open the door, walking out into the hallway. You squint, and blink a few times to get used to the harsh light. Then, you knock on the door in front of you.
There's a couple of voices sounding from inside the apartment, but no one answers. You groan, knocking again, and even harsher this time. It grows quiet, and you are contemplating going back to bed, hoping whoever is on the other side of that wall got the message, but then the door swings open.
In front of you stands a man, with brown curls and a very apparent frown on his face. One that falters ever so slightly at the sight of you, and is accompanied by a small smirk. He leans against the door frame. His cross necklace dangles, visible by his dress shirt that is far from buttoned all the way up, and you swear it hypnotizes you for the shortest second.
"H-hi." You stammer, looking at the man with wide eyes. His smirk grows, and you forget why you are even here.
"Hello." He greets back, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks you up and down, shamelessly. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"
"Uh, I just moved into the apartment across from you, and I was wondering if you could keep down the noise a little bit?" You ask, but the man doesn't respond. He solely scans you with some sort of frown on his face. You can't deduce whether that is his neutral face, or if he's pissed at you. Nevertheless, you are kind of scared. "It's just— I don't mean to be rude. I just have to get up very early, and it was very loud, so... also, are you okay? It's— I heard a thud, I thought maybe someone fell?"
Once again, it grows quiet between the two of you. With every passing moment of silence, you are regretting your choice to knock. Did you really have to piss off your neighbors the first night you moved in? Couldn't have just battled through a broken night? You curse yourself as you wait for some sort of answer.
"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."
You let out a breath of relief, glad to see he is not taking it badly. You bite your lip, trying to fight your smile from getting too wide.
"Really? Thank you so much! I appreciate it, and I really didn't mean to offend you or anything. I promise, it's just because I have to get up so early and the coffee at my work is horrible so—" You stop yourself mid-sentence when you realize you are babbling your new neighbor's ear off. "Never mind. Good night, and nice to meet you. My name is Y/N, by the way."
The man doesn't say anything once again, so you take it as your cue to get the fuck back to bed before making it worse. You walk into your apartment, turning around to close the door, when you hear his voice.
"Harry."
Your head shoots up, tilting it ever so slightly at the sudden word spoken by your neighbor. He tilts his head, mocking you, as he repeats the name while pointing to himself. With that, he turns around and closes the door. You do the same, leaning against the door as you realize you have the hottest new neighbor ever.
Another, extremely loud thud sounds from his apartment, and your eyebrows knit together. A loud voice is heard, one that is clearly Harry's shouting 'sorry!'. You giggle, shaking your head at the comedic timing before waltzing back to your bed.
Little do you know, that while you fall back asleep in your comfortable bed, your new neighbor thinks about you through the entire night. Harry's mind is absent, even as they drag the body of the guy that didn't pay up in time out of his apartment, even as he scrubs the blood off his hands and face.
"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."
He had been purely sarcastic, baffled by the fact that you even had the guts to knock on his door. The first time you knocked, he thought it was just noise from outside or something. No one was stupid enough to knock on Harry Styles' door. No one was dumb enough to risk it.
But someone did knock; an insanely beautiful woman with nothing but an oversized shirt on. Well, shorts under it maybe, but for the sake of his imagination, you didn't. And you weren't stupid, you just didn't know whose door you were knocking on.
Anyone else who would have been foolish enough to do so, especially while he was dealing with a deadbeat who owed him more than enough money, would've met an entirely different fate.
The way you stumbled over your words and let your eyes travel over his body had given him too much of an ego boost not to play with you a little bit. And once you had reacted so genuinely to his sarcastic response, he somehow didn't have it in his heart to tell you that he wasn't being serious.
Which is strange, because he didn't peg himself for someone with a heart, not anymore.
Nevertheless, he decided that you were right. The incessant noise had gone on long enough. And so, right after he closed the door, Harry turned around aimed his silencer right at the deadbeat's head. Following the thud of his body falling down, he had shouted a 'sorry' for the last noise he would make that night.
Now, as he lays in bed, the reason for his sleeplessness isn't the weight of another death on his shoulders. No, it's his new neighbor and her long, bare legs.
************************************************
ONE DAY LATER
Your shoulders are hurting.
After yesterday's moving activities and today's excruciatingly long day at work, you are exhausted. Not only did you have to do an insane amount of paperwork today, you also got assigned to even more administrative work that shouldn't even be yours to deal with in the first place.
When you had mentioned you wanted to gain experience in the field of law during your interview for receptionist at a law firm, you hadn't expected them to throw all the work in your lap. You were doing a lot of things, spending way too many after hours in the office, doing jobs that were never in your job description, and instead labeled as 'ways to gain experience'. The worst thing is, your boss is acting like these tasks are a huge favor to you, but you know it's just the jobs that they are too lazy to do themselves.
Nonetheless, you don't say anything about it. Despite the cruelness and sometimes uselessness of the assignments you are given, you do have access to active cases that lawyers are working on, and it gives you an opportunity to observe their styles and its effectiveness.
Wanting to become a lawyer is something you had always dreamed of. You loved justice, and you weren't afraid to fight for it. In your day to day life, you are very sweet, bubbly, and in some cases—like yesterday—even shy. But once you are in a professional setting, you can switch and stand strong. The division between your personal and professional self is one you have learned to balance very well, and you also use it as a secret weapon. People are way too quick to underestimate you, and you always make sure it comes back to bite them in the ass.
You put your groceries and briefcase on the ground, allowing yourself to look for your keys, which you forgot to take out of your bag and are now buried somewhere at the bottom. Head deep into your purse, you don't notice Harry walking out of his apartment until his door shuts. It is right after you've found your keys, so with them in hand you turn around to greet him with a smile.
Your new neighbor looks gorgeous, which doesn't bode well for you because you are currently feeling like an expired, mushy sack of potatoes. You shiver at the thought.
"Hey!" You say instead.
"Hello sweetheart." His smooth, English accent hits your ears just right. "Sleep well last night?"
Your cheeks turn pink, and you nod. "Yes, thank you for asking. Oh! Speaking of..."
You turn around and bend down to dig through your grocery bag. When your eyes meet Harry's again, you are reaching out a bouquet of flowers. He stares at it, wary of your intentions.
"They're for you." You feel the need to clarify.
"Aw, sweetheart, you didn't have to go through the hassle of buying me flowers. I'm quite an easy man you know, all you have to do is ask." He says, grin wide as he observes the way your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at the suggestion of him and you. He likes seeing you all flustered.
"W-what, no! I— it was for yesterday! Because you were so nice to me. I wanted to make up for meeting in such an unfortunate way. Didn't want you to think you have a shitty neighbor now or something." You explain, watching Harry's amusement at your awkwardness.
"I'd never think that, sweetheart." His voice is low, and despite saying it in a bit of a joking way, you swallow at the sound of the sentence. The raspiness of it just gets to you. You brush your nerves off with a weak smile, and turn to open your door.
"Well, have a good night." You say, awkwardly waving at Harry as you carry your bags into your apartment. You place them in your hallway before walking back to close the door. Harry waves back with the flowers, winking at you.
"Good night, sweetheart."
Your heart races at the continuous nickname. It sounds so sexy coming out of his mouth, and it is the only thing you can think of as you cook your dinner. It is even hard to concentrate while watching your favorite show.
A few hours go by, and the sound of Harry's voice doesn't fade from your mind. Neither does the excruciating pain in your shoulders. At around nine p.m. you give up and decide to grab some painkillers. However, to your great horror, you find out that you ran out and forgot to buy new ones.
Cursing yourself, you rush over to your coatrack and grab your jacket. Along with your purse, containing important things such as money, your keys, and pepper spray, you leave your apartment to pop into the convenience store nearby.
It's only a five minute walk, but with your speed you cut a minute from that estimate. It takes a little bit to find the paracetamol, but after grabbing two boxes of pills, you rush to the cash register. You wait until the man in front of you has paid, smiling politely when he turns around to walk out of the store, and step forward to pay for your painkillers.
Despite the cashier's monotone voice, you are more than satisfied with this convenience store, and you walk out smiling at the knowledge of being rid of your pain very soon.
You flinch at the sight of the man from before standing right outside, grinning at you as you walk by. Despite his middle aged appearance, his teeth are rather yellow. You avoid making further eye contact, tension growing in your stomach. As you walk back to your apartment, you make sure to keep your pace quick.
You're too scared to look behind you, but you feel it. You feel that this man is walking a few meters behind you and you also feel like you might throw up. But you keep walking, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other.
You are ready to open the door that leads you to the hallway of your apartment complex, and immediately push the key into the hole once you get there. But for some stupid fucking reason, the door won't budge. Your heartbeat rises and your hands are getting clammy as you shimmy your keys, trying to open that goddamn door. As your eyes begin to water, you hear a voice behind you.
"Need some help, pumpkin?"
Frantically, your gaze searches for a way to get out of here. It falls into the intercom, but you can't seem to find some sort of emergency button. Since you can't buzz yourself in, that option seems to be useless.
Then, an idea enters your mind.
You take a deep breath, hoping it'll steady your voice before you respond. "No thank you."
The man chuckles. "I think you do. 'S okay, I like a damsel in distress."
Pulling the key out of the hole and wrapping your hand around it, you turn around to the man. You swallow your pride and try to be as nice as you can be when rejecting someone. Stepping back a bit, you almost lean against the wall as you blindly press one of the buttons behind you. Luckily, the noise of ringing a bell isn't very loud from downstairs, so you don't think the man notices your sneaky action.
"I am fine, good night." You say, your smile gone now. You can't find it in yourself to be nice and sweet after that creepy comment. Technically, you are very helpless right now. Because of him, and his actions that fill you with fear. The threat of his presence is what makes you that 'damsel in distress' in the first place, and you hate the fact that men idolize saving you when often they are the danger itself.
"I don't think you are. Why don't you come with me, get a drink together?" His tone is dominated by the insincerity that drips from his words. You know it isn't a question, it's a command. The salacious smirk he wears with it is disgusting, and the way his eyes shamelessly scan you makes you want to shower five times just to feel less gross.
You feel the slight pain in your thumb for pressing so much and hard into the button behind you, but you can't help but pray that your idea will work.
"No, please leave me alone." You try to be as stern as you can, although your shaky voice isn't conveying that message very well.
"I don't think you understood what I said, pumpkin. You and me are gonna get a drink together." He reaches forward and grabs you by your arm, pulling you towards him. You try to shake him off of you, but his grip only tightens. You choke out a cry, still trying to get his grimy hands off of you while he only buries his fingernails further into your skin.
"Let me go!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that there is someone who will at least hear you. Your free hand reaches into your purse, and you pull out your pepper spray. In a split second, you are holding it up and spray it in the man's eyes.
He shrieks in shock, and lets go of you, covering his eyes with his hands. You quickly turn around to run back inside, but crash into a body on your way there.
Holding your waist, Harry keeps you from falling over. He frowns, his jaw clenching when he catches your terror filled, red eyes.
"Go inside." He orders. While the context is stern, the words spoken come out way softer than one would think when demanding something from someone. You don't have to be told twice, rushing through the open door and running up the countless flights of stairs. You are completely out of breath when you reach your floor, but you don't stop hurrying until you are in the safety of your own apartment.
You tear all your clothes off your body, feeling like you might choke because everything you have on feels to tight to your skin. You keep crying as you jump into the shower to wash yourself off, as you take off your make-up, and as you put a tank top and loose sweatpants on your freshly washed body.
You take your head out of the bun it was in to keep it dry as you walk towards your front door upon hearing a knock. When you open it, you're standing face-to-face with your neighbor.
"Are you okay?" Harry asks, eyebrows knotted as he looks at you. You nod, not wanting to say a word because you don't want to make him uncomfortable by becoming a blubbering mess in front of him. "Can I come in?"
You nod again, opening the door further so he can enter your place. His steps are careful and light, and you see his eyes scan the apartment as he walks in. You shut the door behind him, making Harry turn around to look at you.
He is back at your side as soon as he spots the marks on your arm that the creepy man left when he tried to take you to god knows where. With a tight jaw, Harry glances up at you.
"You need to put ice on that. It's gonna bruise."
You look down, too timid to meet his gaze, and notice Harry's red knuckles. It doesn't take you very long to put two and two together. For some reason, you don't want to directly mention that just yet, so instead you whisper:
"You too."
Harry lets out a breathy chuckle and nods his head, watching you as you walk over to your freezer to get some ice. Putting it in two different dish cloths, you hand one to him before walking over to your couch. Harry follows suit, plopping next to you and putting the cloth meant for him on your arm.
Flushed from that action, you slowly grab his hand and place it flat on your thigh. Ignoring the way it makes the rest of your body feel, you press the ice filled cloth against his knuckles, hoping the cold will give him some relief. He winces, his fingers tightening around your thigh ever so slightly before immediately relaxing again.
Your eyes travel to your own arm, initially to see Harry's hand wrapped around it. However, the sight of the red marks on your arm make your eyes water again, the memory from what just happened resurfacing. The sickening fear of not knowing how the fuck to get out of that situation is as overwhelming as it was just before, even though you are safe now. You hate that a man made you feel so weak.
You can't help the tears from flowing, so you just let them as you silently recall the events of tonight. Your thoughts are cut in on when Harry removes his bruised hand from your thigh and cups it around your jaw. He leans forward, green eyes all sympathetic.
"It's okay, you're okay. He won't hurt you anymore, or ever again." He whispers. You shut your eyes, your silent tears now breaking into soft sobs. There is no choice but to let the sadness flow, and relish in the comfort of Harry's fingers wiping away your tears as you cry out the stress you had been feeling, and give it a place.
You feel it getting lighter with every cry. Each tear that Harry catches is a bit of weight off your shoulders. For some reason he chooses to sit there and offer you a space to store your pain. And even though normally you would never allow yourself, tonight you make use of that space.
*****************************************
A few weeks had gone by, and Harry had taken it upon himself to become your new watch dog. After what happened, he refused to let you go outside by yourself.
The morning after the incident, you got up and went to work like normal. But when you opened your apartment door, you ran into Harry, who had also been planning on going outside. He walked you to your car, and watched as you drove away. That night, when you returned from work, you ran into him again in the hallway downstairs, and walked to your apartments together.
After about three nights of these exact same situations, you could confirm for yourself that Harry was waiting to escort you anywhere.
You thought confronting him about your knowledge of his schemes would put an end to the overprotectiveness, but you were proven wrong. Instead of toning down his behavior, he amped it up. There wasn't a trip to the supermarket that you made by yourself anymore. And anytime you tried to say something about his following you everywhere, he would make up a silly excuse that left you speechless with flushed cheeks and a stupid grin on your face. You gave up fighting it not long after that, mainly because you enjoy his company so much.
Being so close to Harry all the time did make you realize how much distance everyone else kept from him. You didn't miss how people avoided his gaze, or how certain cashiers stumbled over their words as you paid for your groceries. It had you wondering; just how scary was Harry?
Harry had really taken it upon himself to protect you. It kind of went automatically, if he had to be honest. He simply couldn't watch you walk around the neighborhood so defenseless. What happened to you had enraged him so much, he didn't want a repetition of it.
Of course, an exact repetition was not an option anymore since he had beaten up the guy who assaulted you to the point where he was hospitalized. Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel even the slightest of remorse. Well, maybe only for the fact that he didn't kill him right then and there. He would have, had he not been too worried about you being alone upstairs.
Soon enough, word had traveled about your association with Harry, and it resulted into people being afraid of you. You were so incredibly confused about the shaky voices of people you'd ask for help in stores. You had never imagined yourself to have such an intimidating aura.
Since Harry had taken it upon himself to watch you, you had taken it upon yourself to feed him. It was the least you could do, and it gave you a reason to keep him around longer at night.
Part of you was aware that wanting to get closer to Harry might not be the best idea, especially considering the collectively instilled fear that lingered everywhere he would go. But he was so sweet to you, and you were sure that there was an explanation.
So, tonight during dinner, you had decided you would ask him about it.
Harry was delighted when you asked him if he wanted to stay and eat, and didn't hesitate to say yes. Now as he leans against the counter, watching you cook the pasta you promised to prepare, you have to actively control your breathing. His intense stare has a way of turning your legs into jelly and fogging up your mind.
"How was your day?" You ask him as casually as you can. Harry doesn't tear his eyes off of you, grinning at the way he is making you squirm.
"Good, love."
You swallow at the new nickname he suddenly conjured up. The low baritone of his voice combined with his green eyes on yours has your heartbeat getting out of control. You hear the breathy chuckle leaving Harry's mouth, and it makes your stomach turn. He knows exactly what he is doing.
"So, uhm... I have a question." You say, focusing extra hard on stirring the boiling pasta. He hums, indirectly telling you to ask away. You turn down the pitch on which your pasta stands, and turn to face him. For the first second that you meet his eyes, you were forget what you were even going to ask him, but you quickly regain your senses.
"Why is everyone here so afraid of you?" You tilt your head, really observing Harry. Sure, he is tall, with a broad and muscled figure. He always wears dark clothes and his green eyes will never look away first. But to truly be terrified of this man? You couldn't imagine why.
Harry doesn't say anything. He pushes himself away from the counter and walks towards you, slowly towering over your smaller frame. He leans forward, his face closer to yours than it has ever been before, and it gives you ideas that you probably shouldn't have.
"Do I scare you?"
Silently, you shake your head. Harry's eyes slowly travel down your face, fixating on your mouth for the longest five seconds you have ever experienced, and then shoot back up to meet yours again. "Then why do you care so much about what others think?"
"I don't." You respond embarrassingly fast, overwhelmed with a need to get his approval.
"Well, there you have your answer."
With that, he turns around to the counter and grabs the glass of white wine you poured for him. Taking it between his hands as if it were a cocktail glass, you watch entranced as he takes a sip. Your gaze falls onto his hands. You feel sinful for the thoughts that occupy your mind, but they fly out the window when you spot how bruised his knuckles are. And you realize...
"No, I don't." You say sternly. Harry looks at you, amused by your protest. "I don't know anything about you, Harry."
Harry laughs, but it’s a bitter laugh, accompanied by his hand running through his hair and his head shaking as if he can’t believe what he is dealing with. A part of you wants to get on your knees and beg him to forgive you for being suspicious of who he truly is, but you refrain from doing it.
“People fear what they don’t know, Y/N.” He says, his eyes finding yours. Your heart starts beating faster, aware of the fact that his eyes are going to keep being trained on yours without even so much as faltering.
“I don’t give a fuck about what those people think of me, they don’t know me. You do. So why is their judgment relevant? I’m here, aren’t I? Standing in front of you, letting you know me. Is that not enough?”
You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach at his words, and the authenticity of them. You let out a sigh, breaking eye contact to look down at the floor, contemplating what he’s saying. Maybe he is right.
“Sorry.” You say so softly it could almost be classified as a whisper. The feeling of Harry’s fingers pushing your chin up makes your eyes meet his, and you notice the hint of a smile he wears.
“Go sit.”
Slightly confused, you follow his order, looking back at him to see him finishing up the pasta and making a bowl for the both of you.
“I’m 29.” He states, his back still to you. Your mouth breaks into a smile, and you prop your elbow on the couch, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand as you observe him.
“Really?” You are grinning like a proper idiot now. Harry nods.
“I don’t have any siblings, but we did have a dog, and we rescued a stray kitten that was sleeping in our garden.” He goes on, turning around and walking over to the couch with the bowls of pasta. He sits down and hands you one.
“What are their names?” You ask.
“Dog is called Pepper. Mum let me name the cat, so I named her Hades.” He explains, making you a giggle.
“You named your girl cat Hades?”
“Persephone is such a mouthful. Plus, I was like ten, and had this big obsession with Hades.” He shrugs, taking a bite of the pasta. Your eyes widen, and you begin to laugh even harder.
“You mean to tell me that little ten year old Harry was obsessed with the Greek God of the underworld, the God of death… Are you okay?”
Harry shrugs. “He’s just doing his job.”
You cover your face with your hands, beyond amused by his nonchalance. You don’t see it, but Harry might take more joy out of the situation than you. His eyes sparkle with adoration as he watches you laugh, and he wishes he knew how to control time just to stay in this moment forever. There is something so extraordinary about your happiness being caused by him. He is fascinated with how much he wishes he could do it every day for the rest of his life.
He didn’t know whether opening up about himself was the smartest ideas, but he would give you his social security number if it made you laugh like that.
You take your hands off your face and look at him, the sudden urge to kiss him being almost unbearable. Almost. You sigh, not knowing how to express these feelings you have towards him, so instead you opt for a simple comment.
“I’m so glad you’re my neighbor.”
Harry smirks. “I’m glad you’re my neighbor too.”
#harry styles#fanfic#writing#fanfiction#blurb#harry#one direction#smut#one shot#excerpt#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles one shot#harryedwardstyles#harry fanfic#harry styles fan fic#harry edward styles#harry styles fic#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader
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Wedding Bell Blues
(no Upside Down AU, meet-ugly, Baker!Steve/wedding singer!Eddie)
--
Eddie is a wedding musician and it's pretty great actually. It's not the rock star life he dreamed of but it's a damned sight better than most people including him expected of Al Munson's little boy.
Eddie gets to play music. For a living. And he does pretty well. He gets to dress up a little snazzy. He gets free fancy food and a couple of drinks. And he gets to shoot his shot with anybody that looks like fun.
He's good at it too. That's the best part. His younger years spent being a low level drug dealer and a high level weirdo mean he can read a room in an instant. He gets the playlist from the bride usually, presses for some other song ideas, and he can tell who to take requests from at six paces. And who to ignore from across the room.
It's a good time.
Unfortunately not all ceremonies can be winners and based on the tension Eddie has felt from almost everyone involved in today's wedding it was going to be a tough gig.
Everything starts in an hour but Eddie isn't on until the reception so he has plenty of time to grab a smoke before soundcheck. He knows the venue pretty well and there's an alcove next to the vendor loading area. Nice flowers, a decent bench, and it's nowhere near the dumpsters.
This venue butts up against a small patch of woodland and Eddie wonders if he might have time to check it out, see if there's anything inspiring. He doesn't hike but he does enjoy a walk in nature.
Before he gets the chance a baby blue van with 'Steve's Sweets' painted across the side pulls up, blocking his sight line.
He mourns the loss of his view right up until the driver pops the door open and climbs out.
Oh, the beauties nature provides.
Acid wash jeans which under any other circumstances Eddie would laugh at are lovingly hugging possibly the finest ass he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.
The rest of the picture - when he can drag his attention away - is pretty choice too. A soft looking pink sweater, sleeves pushed up to expose sun bronzed skin making Eddie idly wonder if the man is that tan all over.
The crowning glory is a gorgeous head of hair framing a face that Eddie can only describe as pretty.
Eddie tries to turn his attention back to his cigarette. Admiring someone is one thing, leering like a creep is entirely different.
He takes a last drag and drops the filter on the gravel, grinding it out under his feet. Mentally he says farewell to the handsome stranger and turns to go back inside.
Eddie takes two steps before a suit clad man comes out of the building and pushes past him in a rush.
"Steven."
The man's not yelling, but his voice is the kind of loud that demands to be heard.
Eddie turns to watch as the man approaches the van and the other guy, Steve apparently, standing in front of it.
"What the hell are you doing here dressed like that."
Eddie should go inside. This isn't his business. But one of the perks of working weddings was the drama and this was very promising.
He stays where he is, standing just in front of the door. In case either man looks in his direction Eddie actually mimes patting at his jacket like he is looking for his smokes.
"I'm delivering a cake, Dick. And if it wasn't for Diana I wouldn't even be doing that much. She deserves to get something good out of this day."
Eddie bites back a smile, lowering his head a little so he can still watch what was happening ideally without being noticed.
"You will refer to me as father. I believe I have earned at least that much respect."
Eddie feels his eyebrows rise. This kind of drama was another part of why he likes weddings. Better than the soap operas he watches with Uncle Wayne.
"Sure," Steve snorts. "Tell you what, I'll compromise," and he continues, "Riiichaaaard."
"Grow up, Steven. You were invited here as a guest. You had better have a tuxedo in that stupid truck of yours, the ceremony starts in an hour."
"I was hired to bake a cake. Part of my fee includes delivery. That is literally the only reason I'm here. You and the future ex-Mrs Harrington will have to celebrate without me. Try not to cry yourself to sleep about it."
"You little asshole," Richard snarls. "You think you're better than me. You think I wanted you here? You owe me your presence. I have important people coming to this wedding and I need them to see my dutiful son at my side."
The baker laughs, a low nasty chuckle that sends a perverse shiver down Eddie's back.
"Tell you what, Dick, I'm booked up today but I'll come to your next wedding." Eddie looks up to see Steve is grinning, bright and as sharp as a knife. "I'll even get you a toaster."
Eddie lurches in place as he sees Richard lunge towards Steve. He is too far away to stop the man but he has to do something.
Before he takes a step the door swings open again and a petite woman comes rushing out.
"Richard?"
Eddie watches as she runs forward tugging at the satin bathrobe she is wrapped in. She freezes a few feet away from what had been brewing into a nasty fight.
"Steve? You're here-- oh, but your suit! Richard? What's going on?"
The older man doesn't turn around, doesn't seem to notice her at all but Eddie watches Steve gingerly move until he is standing between his father and the woman.
"Hey Diana," he says softly. "Sorry you had to see this, dad and me just have a difference of opinion. Everything's fine."
Eddie feels something in him clench. He is very familiar with the tone in Steve's voice. He had heard it from his uncle Wayne to his dad when he was a little kid. It is soft but firm, implacable. Eddie isn't sure exactly what is coming but he can tell Steve knew and that it would be bad.
The venue usually had at least two security patrolling the grounds, more if the reception was expected to be contentious. Eddie doesn't know where they are right now but hopefully not far.
"See what you've done Steven? God, you're useless."
"Richard, don't say that," Diana says, her voice rising.
The older man is turning from pink to red and Eddie can see Steve moving slowly, shifting his father's attention to him.
"That's me, Richard. Useless Steve. Flunked out of college and he bakes cookies like some kind of fairy. You sure you want to parade your failure of a son in front of the hoi polloi?"
Eddie hears Diana's gasp from where he's standing. "Steve, what are you talking about? Richard what's going on?"
Richard turns his glare on her and Eddie feels himself moving forward almost against his own will. He's not sure what he'll do when he gets there but he's never been the bystander type.
Steve just laughs. Bright and angry. "I'm not sure what my father told you about our relationship but we don't have one."
"No," she says. "Your father-- he told me-- "
When Eddie met her a few weeks ago he had seen a confident, charming woman that knew exactly what she wanted and was excited to be married. Now she looks confused, maybe even scared.
Eddie has gotten closer to this whole altercation than he wanted to be but since he is there and it looks like Steve and Richard are busy trying to glare holes in each other Eddie steps up to Diana and lightly grasps her elbow.
She startles and turns to face him. Her eyes are wide, wet and staring.
"Mr. Munson," she asks, softly.
Eddie tries to smile. "Mr. Munson is my uncle, ma'am. It's Eddie. Let's get you out of here, okay? Back inside."
Eddie is able to gently guide her a few steps away. He hates turning his back on the other two men but he needs to get Diana out of reach for whatever is about to happen.
"I dont understand," the bride mutters. "Steve used to be such a sweet boy. Mr. Harrin-- Richard. Oh, I'm so silly. Richard. He said-- this is so embarassing."
Her voice is pitched and tight and if she isn't crying yet she would be soon. Eddie resolves to get her inside and into the arms of literally any friendly face.
"Hey," Eddie says. "Let's just--" he scrambles for a name. Anna? Annie? "Amy, right? Your maid of honor? Let's get you to her, okay. You can sit down."
Diana nods.
Behind him he can hear Richard and Steve hissing noxious words back and forth. There is no shouting but the air is heavy and hot with anger. Even though he was outside Eddie feels like he can't breathe.
Eddie gets Diana to the door, hadn't realized how close they really were, maybe 30 feet if that. It's open, anxious faces framed in weathered oak. He hands Diana off to her Maid of Honor who quickly sweeps the woman deeper into the hall and then he nods to Patricia Abernathy, the event space manager.
"Think we're gonna have a cancellation," he says, nodding towards the departing woman.
She rolls her eyes. "Can't say I'm surprised. I had a bad feeling about this one."
Eddie scoffs. "You have a bad feeling about all of them."
He turns to face where the two men are still in a stand off in front of the van. "You're not wrong though, I think. At least I hope they cancel."
Patricia snorts. "We got the deposits locked down and the contract is airtight so if they cancel we still get fifty percent of the remaining fee. I'll take that for the rest of the day off."
"You got a date, Patty? And it's not me? You're breaking my heart."
"Ha," she says flatly. "That pretty boy is more your type and from the way he's talking you're in with a chance. Now you keep an eye on those two. Security is on their way, we'll see if they can get here before these guys start really butting heads."
Eddie nods. It isn't the first time he had been called on to help manage fractious families.
He turns back in time to see Richard take a swing at Steve. The younger guy steps back out of the way and Eddie can hear his mocking laugh as far away as the door.
He moves closer to the two of them. Eddie isn't going to get in the middle of the fight but maybe if he reminds them there are other people around that might be enough to calm them down.
He watches Richard lunge forward and swing again. This time Steve can't move away fast enough and the blow glances off of his cheek.
"Hey," Eddie calls, now jogging towards them. "Hey, knock it off! You wanna fight take it somewhere else!"
Steve turns to face Eddie, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something but all that comes out is a low grunt as Richard hits him in the shoulder and shoves him to the ground.
Eddie throws himself forward, pushing Richard away. "What do you think you're doing," he shouts in the man's face but Richard doesn't seem to hear, pressing back against Eddie.
"You little bastard," Richard shouts at his son. "You're worthless! I don't know why I bothered."
"Go to hell," Steve replies.
That seems to make Richard even angrier which Eddie hadn't thought was possible. He isn't sure he will be able to hold him off much longer.
"Hey, what's going on here," a low even voice calls. It is the venue security guard, his partner just behind him with a hand on his radio.
Eddie feels himself relax and then stumbles back as Richard pushes him aside to fall on his son again.
Eddie turns to see both guards trying to pull the older man away as he continues to hit his son, screaming obscenities.
Not sure how to help, Eddie stands by. When he sees an opening he lunges forward and takes hold of Steve's shoulders, pulling him back and away.
The younger man fights against him at first, eyes closed and arms up in front of his face. Eddie figures he probably didn't know whose hands are on him.
"Hey. Hey. It's me, Eddie. Shit. I work here. You're safe, security has your dad. You're safe."
Eddie steps back, loosening his grip on Steve but still keeping one hand on his shoulder, trying to sooth him.
A few feet away Richard is still twisting, trying to get free and attack his son again, but Eddie can see the guards have a good hold on him and it doesn't look like they will be letting go any time soon.
As Steve calms down Eddie lets go of his shoulder, instead crouching next to him. "You doing okay? I saw you had you hands up but he got a few hits in."
Steve lowers his arms and sits upright. He twists his neck back and forth and shifts his shoulders before opening his eyes and looking up at Eddie. "I'm okay. I'm fine. God, it's a soap opera isn't it? Fuck."
Eddie lets himself drop into a seat next to the other man. They both watch in silence as the guards march Steve's father around the corner to the front of the event hall.
"You know the bride? Diana," the guy asks. "She was my babysitter. When I was eleven."
"Oof," Eddie says. "So she was--"
"Seventeen then, and now it's been twenty years for her and about three wives for him."
"Scandalous," Eddie murmurs. He sees Steve smile and feels relieved. "What will people say. The 'hoi polloi' I believe you called them?"
Steve snorts. "A crowd of empty suits that exist solely to tell my dad how respected he is. Will he get arrested?"
"Maybe," Eddie says. "I think that might be up to you. It's assault at least."
"Ugh," Steve says, rubbing his face. "That's all I need. I'm trying to get him out of my life."
"Well," Eddie says. "I can attest that jail is very good at keeping deadbeat dads out of your life."
Steve starts laughing and then winces, wrapping an arm around his stomach.
"Shit, you are hurt," Eddie says, scrambling to his feet. "Do you need an ambulance? Patty probably called 911 by now."
Steve waves him off. "I'm fine. This is not my first fight and my old man hits-- well, I was gonna say 'like a girl' but then my best friend would kick my ass and I'm way more scared of her," Steve says, laughing softly.
He looks up at Eddie and holds out his free hand. "You gonna help me up? Or is chivalry dead?"
"Chivalry," Eddie repeats. "You a damsel in distress?"
"I might as well be," Steve says. "Now come on."
Eddie laughs and reaches down, gently guiding Steve back to his feet. He feels the man's weight leaning on him for a few seconds and despite the circumstances Eddie has to admit Steve feels good in his arms.
Once he is steady Steve steps back and Eddie lets him go.
Steve moves to the van and leans up against the metal surface. Eddie walks over to join him.
"So," Steve says. "What next?"
Eddie shakes his head. "I honestly don't know. The wedding is canceled, for sure. For today at least."
"Just for today? You think she'll marry him still?"
Eddie shrugs. "I have no idea. I wouldn't but then I wouldn't have said yes in the first place."
Steve leans back, tapping his head against the van a few times before he turns back to Eddie. "You know the worst part? This was my last delivery. Now, I have to deal with this stupid cake. Three tiers of lemon and raspberry." He laughs. "Do you think a homeless shelter will take a wedding cake?"
Eddie grins. "I don't see why not. At least something good will come out of today."
Steve looks up towards the hall. "I feel like I should say something-- to Diana, I mean. She was always really nice to me, she deserved better than this."
"I have found that good or bad people rarely get what they deserve. You don't really owe her anything but I can't fault the impulse." Turning towards the hall, Eddie gestures for Steve to follow him. "Just-- just don't apologize for him? Okay?"
Steve walks in silence for a few steps before he coughs roughly. His voice is thick and choked and he coughs again. "I, uh, I stopped apologizing for him a long time ago. His faults are his own. I just wish I didn't get dragged into it."
Eddie laughs. "I know that song."
"Yeah," Steve asks.
Eddie nods. They are at the door and he pulls it open for the other man, gesturing him in with a bow.
Steve stops in the doorway as Eddie stands up again. He is framed by the light inside and the scent of hothouse roses comes drifting out into the open air. Eddie can picture him suddenly in that moment standing at a balcony limned by moonlight.
"Hey Sunshine," Eddie says softly. "Buy me a drink and we can trade stories?"
Steve smiles. "Yeah," he says, with a small laugh. "Sure, why not." He holds up his hands, still dirty and scraped from the asphalt. "Help me get cleaned up and let me say something to Diana. Then we can talk."
Eddie nods, reaches out, and places his hands gently over Steve's. "Sounds good to me."
#fanfiction#fanfic#littlechivalry#my writing#steve harrington#steddie#eddie munson#stranger things#meet ugly#baker steve#wedding singer eddie
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Yan!Farm-boy x Reader
'City Boys ain't worth nothin'

18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Smut, NON-CON, mentions of exs, p-in-v sex, mentions of religon, mentions of conservatives, bondage, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of divorce, female and male genitalia, female reader, pet names, sub-par writing of southern accent.
(AN: Had fun with this one!)
Sitting on your porch, you sip from a cup of sweet tea provided by your lovely Aunt May, when you hear the sound of a truck approaching. A cloud of dust can be seen flying up from the dirt road as the beaten-up yellow pick up from the McCall farm rolls up the edge of your aunt's driveway. A freckle faced, redheaded boy parks the car, and hops out, his face and arms already red from having been working in the sun all day. You huff, but call out to your aunt. "Aunt May! That McCall boy's here!" You yell, a twinge of annoyance in your voice.
Ever since your parents split up, you moved from the city to live with your aunt May in this godforsaken hick town. You've always seen yourself as a city-girl, and just the thought of spending even a month on some dusty farm in the middle of nowhere made you want to gag. Despite the fact you've been here for several months now, the feeling has not gone away. Aunt May is nice, but you miss your friends, and you would rather die than go to another country-bumpkin harvest festival or Sunday service. Your predicament isn't helped by Joey McCall, the youngest son of the McCall family. From what you've gathered, the McCall's have been the largest family in this county for years. While not necessarily rich, they are well-known as salt-of-the-earth people, always willing to help. The McCall family has six kids, with the oldest four already married and starting their own families in the county. It seems that's Joey's goal too.
Everyday, even before you arrived in town, Joey was hired as a farmhand for your aunt, tending to animals and mucking the horses. He took pride in his work, and it only furthered his position as a town darling. When you arrived, despite your arrogance and clear disgust at your new life, he feels that you just need to see how great it is to live in a community like this. Joey hadn't really ever felt anything serious for the girls from town, and some would even say he didn't seem like the romantic type. This was far from the truth, as it was plain as day what he wanted when he would go doe-eyed at the preachers sermons on marriage, and god's purpose for it. He hasn't relented since he met you. Flowers, offering you baked goods, offering to do your chores, whatever you need to get him on your good side. Frankly, you can't stand him. It's not that you hate him persay, but you want nothing to do with this community of red-necks, and you would NEVER sink so low as kissing one of these country bumpkins sons.
Joey hops up the porch with a grin, adjusting the strap of his overalls as he approaches you. 'Aunt May, please hurry up and give him his chores already!' You think, trying to suppress rolling your eyes. "Mornin', stranger!" He teases. "It's a nice morning, sun's not too hot neither..." You nod, trying to simply wait out the conversation. He waits for you to speak, and when you don't, he sighs, but is happy to do the talking. "I'm glad I ran into you, I hadn't seen ya the last few times I visited. I-I sure hope you're not avoidin' me!" He laughs awkwardly, his grin faltering a little when you don't deny that this was your intention. He clears his throat, and quickly turns around, grabbing something from his back pocket. He thrusts his hand out, and a bundle of mixed flowers and weeds rests in it, still covered in dirt. You look disgusted at the half-dead bouquet.
"I don't want that." You say. His hand shakes a little, and he rubs the back of his neck with his free-hand. "Yeah, I understand. I was actually riding Maisie this morning, and by the time I saw these out in the field, she'd trampled right over em' with her hooves." He tosses the bouquet away over the porch, and it falls apart immediately upon impact with the ground. "It was stupid a' me to think ya'd like em'. Worth a shot though!" You open your mouth to retort, but before you can your aunt finally comes to the porch.
"Mornin' Ma'am!" Joey greets, and she responds sweetly, before pointing out a few things round the farm from her spot on the porch she'd like him to get done. He nods, and after grabbing the toolbox he'd always leave by the stairs, he sets off. You decide you've had enough off outside for today, and head back inside, placing your now empty glass on the counter.
Several hours go by, and as you flick through the channels on the tv, (most of which are static due to the terrible signal out here), you hear your aunt call you from the kitchen. As you enter, you can see she's finishing preparing lunch, a salad bowl to her left and a knife in her hand. Her free hands steadies some lettuce on the cutting board. "Hiya kiddo', how's your day been so far?" She asks. You don't hate your aunt, and lie to protect her feelings. "Fine. Just fine." You lean against the counter. "That poor McCall boy has been out there all mornin', hasn't even come in to ask for a glass of water." She sighs. You roll your eyes. "Be a dear and bring him this sandwich, would ya?" You want to say no more than anything, but when your aunt raises her brow and gives you that look, you quickly take the plate and scurry out to the barn.
As you approach, the sound of hammering and heavy breathing can be heard. As you enter, you see Joey trying to patch the gate on one of the horse-stalls. It seems he sent the horses out into the field, as the barn is empty save for you and him. "My aunt wanted you to have some lunch." You say coldly, placing the plate on top of a turned-over bucket which you considered to be the only place clean enough for it. Joey looks up, eyes wide in appreciation. "Well, thank ya' very much! I'll admit, I've been getting might hungry sittin' out here tryna' fix this darned gate." He huffs. He thinks it's a problem with the hinge. You let out a 'hmm', in response, and begin to leave, when Joey abruptly hops up and grabs your wrist. As soon as he sees your face change to one of disgust and shock, he recoils.
"Sorry to spook ya', I just wanted to ask you something before ya' ran of like ya' always do..." He places the hammer down, and his hands come to fidget at his side. "There's a party being held soon, outside the church. It's a picnic on the lawn sorta' thing, we have one every year. It's a real big deal." You raise an eyebrow. "I guess what I'm tryna' ask is if you'd considering going with me? I could show ya' around, help you meet some of the other townsfolk. Hell' ya' could even meet my sisters! I bet ya'd get along swell." His smile become shy, his freckle disappearing into his skin as a bright red blush covers his face. He hopes you think it's just a sunburn. You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm sorry, Joey. I don't think so..." You say. He frowns, but quickly nods. "Nah, I get it. It's kind of a big event. Maybe we could start with something smaller, maybe just the two of us? Say- I know a real nice spot north of the creek, I could take ya down there, a-and we could-" You let out a loud groan, and stomp your foot.
"No, Joey! It's not that I don't want trampled flowers, or I don't want to go to some big event with all you hick's, it's that I don't want you!" You exclaim. His face falls immediately, that light in his eyes extinguished like squashing one of the fire flies you'd see in the fields on a hot evening. "What..." He mumbles, shaking his head a little. "I don't want to date some small-town guy, okay! I don't even want to be in this town. I have a life back in the city, where I belong. Shit, I've got a BOYFRIEND!" You yell. His sadness at your rejection falls for a minute, and he seems to freeze his panicked breaths. "Ya- Ya' gotta' beau already?" He asks, his voice trembling as he swallows heavily. "A beau? What the hell does that mean, some kind of country talk? Yes, I have a boyfriend, and a very handsome one from the city at that." You sneer, turning your nose up at the boy.
"He pretty?" Joey mumbles, licking his lips as his gaze falls to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at the odd question. "Yes, he's very handsome." You respond. "S' got a lotta' money?" He asks. You nod again, not bringing yourself to be able to speak at Joeys sudden change in demeanor. When Joey does finally look up again, his face is no longer blushing red, but red with shame and embarrassment. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "W-well, it ain't gonna work out. I know how boys from the city are. They only want one thing from girls... that's what the preacher says." He points out the barn door. "You know Peggy, from the grocery store? She went and ran off with a boy from the city once. H-he knocked her up and left her alone, no where else to go. She came back to town, and she eventually married my brother Samuel. She always says he's the best thing that happened to her. He saved her..." Joey whimpers, his fist trembling at his side. You scoff. "Please, boys from the city have plenty to offer-" He cuts you off. "MORE THAN ME?!" He yells, a sob cracking his voice. "Have you done it with your pretty beau? Has he made you feel good?" You gasp, shocked at his vulgar question. "I don't have to tell you that..." You exclaim. "I'm not asking, I'm tellin' you to tell me." His voice is now filled with an equal tone of contempt, though you don't think it's direct at you, but rather the image of your boyfriend he's conjured up in his head. "He has. We've had sex before, he was my first." You say, swallowing nervously as you try to stand your ground.
"Then lemme ask you one more thing..." Joey huffs. "Is he gonna' marry you? Get ya' a nice house, some pretty dresses, keep ya' safe?" You shrug. "Uh, we're only twenty, we don't need to think about that." Joey shakes his head. "Cause'... Cause' that's what I'd do for ya'. Get you a nice ring, somethin' to match all your pretty dresses and clothes from the city. I'd build ya' a house right on my ma and pa's land, make sure we're still close to the family, but still give us some privacy..." He swallows harshly, taking a few steps towards you. "But most of all, I'd make sure you were safe, safe from any city boy who'd try to get off in ya' and then leave." He's now only a few inches from you. "And I intend to do that." He whispers.
You gasp as his calloused hands grab your wrists, turning you around to face the barn wall. He frees one of his hands up and moves to the stall door he was working on, bumping it open with his hips and shutting it behind the two of you. "L-Let go you brute! Get off of me!" You yell. He rips the red patterned bandanna he usually wears around his neck to keep the sun off, and quickly shoves the cloth in between your pretty, soft lips. As you try to kick, your feet only seem to bounce off the boys firm chest. "That's one thing about us farm boys, we're pretty strong. Firm, ya' know?" He whispers. He forces you to turn over, and you sit on the floor of the stall with your back to the wooden wall of the barn. Joey fumbles around, looking for something. His hand brushes across a rough rope for leading the horses mixed into the hay of the stall, and in just a few moments your hands are bound up to a horse feeder, just above your head. You whine through the gag, tears beginning to fall down your face. He shakes his head.
"Nah, c'mon now... don't cry. It's gonna be okay, I promise ya'." He whispers, brushing away one of your tears with the pad of his thumb. "Don't be scared, I'm not gonna do anything that hurts ya', I just wanna prove to you how good I can be. I realise, I can give you all the things that I said earlier, but... but I know the one thing that city boys have given you." Your eyes widen when you understand his words. He smiles softly. "I know the pastor says we should wait till' marriage, but I kinda need to convince ya' to marry me, and I know now to do that I have to prove that I can give everything some city boy can, and more." His hand comes to rest on your knee, before he uses the palm of his hand to bunch up the fabric of your pink skirt, now smudged with dirt. "Sorry about the location, didn't want anyone to see us. I-I'll buy ya' another dress after this, one even prettier, okay?" He says. Hiking up your skirt, your trembling thighs are visible to him, and the sheer lace of your panties allows him to see you without even taking them off. "Wow, I've never seen something as pretty as this..." His fingers trace the top of the lace, brushing your outer lips slightly. Despite your fear, the contact with a sensitive spot makes you whimper through the makeshift gag. "Maybe I don't wanna get ya' a new dress, maybe I want to see ya' in more of these." He laughs a little, rubbing the back of his neck.
His rough hands try to pull down the fabric around your womanhood, though your resistance makes it hard. Eventually, he groans and simply rips the lace in two, tucking it into the pocket of his overalls. "Surely, since this is damaged now, ya' won't need it." He mumbles. He toys with just the fabric in his hands for a moment, his curiosity evident, before he turns back to you. "I'm gonna get a look at ya', okay? See what exactly a pretty girl like you is workin' with." He roughly slots himself in between your knees, making closing them impossible. His large fingers part your folds, giving him a full view of your moist, aroused pussy. He bites his lip, letting out what can only be described as whimper. "G-geez, darlin'. This is definently better than them' health videos they used to show us in the schoolhouse..." He sighs. Joey's face falls for a moment, suddenly insecure.
"I guess you'll be wanting to see me now, too." He removes one hand from your inner thigh, and unclasps the shoulder straps of his overalls. "I-I'll admit, I know there's a little more to all this, but I only really know the basics, so I'm gonna show ya' what I know how to do. Rest assured though, I'm a quick learner." He stammers. His hand is shaking, and it takes several seconds for him to even undo one button on his overalls. Eventually, they fall, resting just below his wait. He lifts his button up shirt slightly, revealing a pair of briefs, and a very prominent bulge. He blushes as he looks down at it, and your eyes widen at the size. "Y'know, I've never had to deal with these before I met ya'. But, sometimes I go home and thinkin' of you is the only way to get em' to go away." His face is even redder with shame. He pulls the briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free. It's thick, and veiny. Somehow, it's freckled, much like his face. He spits into his hand, shivering as he rubs it down his length. "Sorry I don't have something better than my spit. I know it's kinda' gross, but, we are doin' it in a barn." He pulls his hips forward a little, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance, which against your will is now soaked with arousal. "See, I've already got you wet, I can do whatever that boyfriend back home can do for ya'." He says.
"Listen, I know ya'd said you've had sex with him, but I know it can still hurt a little. So, I promise to be real gentle with ya'." He stroke your face with his free hand, and presses his chapped lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. "I'll never get over how much softer you are than me..." He whispers. He begins to hump his manhood against your entrance, biting his lips each time he angles away from you instead of penetrating. "Huh, this is a lil' harder than I thought..." He seems upset at the idea he is under-performing. He takes his hand, and with a solid grip on his member, he pushes the tip just past your hymen, making you squeak into the gag. Before he's even fully got the tip in, his legs are shaking at the feeling. "Oh... Oh lord..." He stammers, fighting the urge to put himself in you all at once. He musters all his strength to pull out, then go back in, just a touch deeper this time. After a few thrusts, he's almost bottomed out in you. Despite your shaking head, your pleas for him to stop, muffled by the gag, soon turn to wanton moans. He places his hands against your hips, allowing him to work himself in and out of you. "God, you're so wet, a-and it's tight... God, didn't know you'd be this tight." He shakes his head though, and leans forward. "Not bad though, not a bad thing, darlin'. You feel so good around me, do I make you feel good too?" In a moment of weakness you nod, prompting him to grin widely. He's so overwhelmed in the moment, from the pleasure and happiness, that his eyes begin to swell with tears. He quickens his pace, almost sobbing now. "My pretty darlin', taking me so well. Making me feel so good, such a good girl. Not city boy could give you what ya' need, not like me..." He huffs. He angles his hips up just a bit, so his tip smacks against a spot deep inside you.
At this, you practically convulse, making him continue once he notices your reaction. "I'll make you finish, don't worry. That's what a good beau does, makes you finish..." He groans, his pace now rapid as he hammers at that spot. Both you can him feel a coil forming in your stomachs, ready to burst. "Hah, I think I'm gonna cum to, you wanna' come together?" His minds fills with thoughts as he thinks more on this while chasing his high. "I already said I-I would marry ya', build ya' a house. We could add on an extra room, for a baby." Your eyes widen in panic at the thought. "Don't worry, I wouldn't leave ya' if you got pregnant from this. That's what that city boy did to Peggy, remember?" He moans. "I'd help ya' the whole way. Build our little one a crib, get them clothes, and I'll bet you'd still be beautiful, if your worried about that." He assures you. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, as as the coil inside you bursts, you feel yourself cumming around him. He gags, inhaling a breath at the feeling. Soon, you feel him convulsing to, a warm liquid filling your caverns as he groans. "God, you're milking me, taking all my seed. So good for me... C'mon baby, just let me stay in a little more, fill ya' up." He groans. After a few seconds, he finally pulls out, and pants, wiping some sweat from his brow. He makes sure to close your legs, wanting to keep in all the seed. He chuckles a little. "Y'know, I'm sure that seed'll take pretty quick... my dad says all the McCall boys are fertile..." He pauses .
"That's why I've got so many siblings."
#reader insert#tw.dark content#tw.yandere#x reader#yandere#yandere content#yandere fanfiction#yandere oc#yandere boy#yandere farmer#tw.religion#tw.breeding#tw.noncon#oc Joey#yandere farmboy
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Over the Knee (NSFW)
Summary: John Dutton does not like being teased, much less by a woman half his age so when you disrespect him on his own land he has to take matters into his own hands, literally.
Requested by: @fdupdaydream 😏😏 (Sorry it took so long girl but thanks for your patience)
Word count: 1782
Character(s): John Dutton
Reader: Female reader
Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Unprotected Sex / Daddy kink / Spanking / Brat reader / Outdoor sex /
Support me: Kofi
When Rip hired Teeter she had one condition, he had to hire you too. Much to his slight annoyance at hiring more ranch hands than he deemed necessary his judgement quickly changed when he saw you astride one of the wild horses John had asked him to tame some weeks ago.
"Told you she was good." Teeter said, a proud tone in her voice.
You hadn't expected to be given the job helping with taming the horses though you weren't exactly going to turn it down. You'd heard enough about the famous John Dutton to willingly accept spending months to years at his ranch regardless of your young age. Being in your mid twenties John was hesitant at allowing you to stay on his ranch but when Rip boasted about your performance with the wild horses John watched you with eager eyes.
"He's gonna kick you Jimmy." You said, watching the stallion buck. Within seconds the man was bent over in pain after the horses hoof collided with his stomach. "What did I just say." You throw your hands up in defeat.
"That'll teach you for tryna outsmart the horse tamer." Lloyd laughed before jumping over the fence to help Jimmy up. Meanwhile you'd already crossed the paddock and had a hold of the bridle trying to keep the horse still as Jimmy limped away.
As you pet the stallion along his neck John had made his way from his house down to the paddocks so he could find out what the shouting was. "Horse kicked Jimmy." Rip stated plainly when John approached him.
"Is he alright?"
"Think his pride is hurt more than anything." He replied and John laughed.
"I want to borrow her for a few hours if that's alright? Got some horses near the woods that Kayce thinks are worth taming, want to get her opinion on them."
"That's fine with me sir but you'll have to ask her." Rip replies then whistles in your direction. You were sat atop the saddle of the 'untameable horse', as Jimmy called him, and chatted to Teeter and Lloyd. When you look to Rip he motions you over with a wave and you quickly get the horse trotting to the other side of the paddock.
"Rip, Mr Dutton, how can I help?" You ask politely.
"Got a job for you." John says. "Need to borrow your expertise for a few hours."
"Sure thing, let me put this big guy back and I'll be all yours."
"Leave him, Jimmy can do it." Rip says stopping you. "Hey Jimmy, come put this horse away."
You laugh as Jimmys face drops when you dismount. Hopping over the fence you walk with John to his truck where he opens the passenger side door for you. "I don't need to grab anything from the bunkhouse do I?" You ask and climb up into the raised truck.
"No, we'll be there and back in a few hours, not unless there's anything you want to bring?"
"Nope, got everything I need." You reply and buckle your seatbelt when John closes the door, rounds the truck, and climbs into the drivers side. The drive down the main road from the Ranch was quiet for a few minutes until John spoke up. "You like working at the ranch?" He asks, tilting his head to you.
"I'm not really gonna say no when I'm in a car with the boss am I?" You laugh and he smiles.
"You can be honest with me darlin."
"Ooo darlin'." You repeat in a mocking tone. "Careful John you'll have people talking."
"Doubt it, I'm old enough to be your daddy." He says making you smirk.
"Mhmm Daddy." You say barely above a whisper with a smirk on your face which doesn't go unnoticed by John. He may be an older man but he heard what you said.
The truck fell into silence as you looked out of the window at the passing fields and trees, the radio played a quiet country song that lulled into another. John pulled down a dirt road and slowed to a stop putting the hand break on and turning off the ignition. "We're here." He said in the usual gruff tone and you slid your seatbelt off before jumping down from the truck.
You walk by his side to a gated portion of land where a few horses are galloping around near a tent. They stop and eye you quizzically before returning to run with one another. "I take it this is why you wanted me?" You say putting two and two together.
"Yeah, Kayce thinks they might be worth training but I want your opinion on them before we waste any time catching them." He opens the gate as he replies and ushers you through before shutting it behind him. You carefully walk onto the land trying not to scare the mare and her foal that has broken away from the small herd.
As you approach the mare with an open palm John heads to the small camp and takes a seat next to the un-lit fire. The foal walks up to you, it must be at least a month or two old and even though it hasn't had any human interaction, that you know of a least, it willingly walks past its mother and straight to you. You watch the mare with a nervous gaze incase she decides to charge as you pet her foal though after a minute or so she seems to be comfortable with your presence and approaches you too.
"That's a good girl." You say moving from petting the foal to its mother. You quickly look her over taking note of a few scratches on her legs that are poking out under the dirt and debris that had gathered from running in the fields and forests. She's toned but a little slimmer than normal and from the brief interaction she seems like a fairly easy horse to tame.
You stop petting her so you can join John at the camp. She turns with her foal and trots off down the field. "What do you think of her?" John asks as you approach the, now-lit, fire. You sit down in the little camping chair that's opposite. "I'd say she's worth taming, she looks strong but she needs fattening up a little more, same with that foal too."
"I'll let Kayce know when we get back, no reception out here. You want a drink?" He says motioning to the bottle oh Whiskey in his hand. You nodded and stood up, rounded the fire and joined him on the laid-out blanket that he was sat on. "Hold on, are you even old enough to drink?"
You laugh. "Yes I'm old enough now hand it over old man."
You reach for the bottle but he pulls it just out of range. "Enough with the old man, say it again and I'll have to take you over my knee." His voice is low and laced with a tinge of anger.
"Don't threaten me with a good time Mr Dutton." You say testing the waters. John was a very handsome man, everyone could see that and eve though he was double your age, if not more you were still heavily attracted to him. The way his large hands flexed against the reigns, how his presence alone changed the atmosphere in a room and his voice, that damn deep voice that massaged your ear drums every time he spoke drove you mad. "I doubt you'd be able to teach me a lesson, I am quite the handful...old man." You speak the last two words barely above a whisper.
You see the fire ignite in Johns eyes, dropping the bottle of Whiskey he grabs your wrist and pulls you across his lap. Lifting a leg from under you he rests his thigh against your lower back keeping you pinned down with your ass in the air. Before you can protest John raises his hand and slaps his heavy palm against your clothed asscheek. The denim offered no cushioning whatsoever as his hand collided with your backside three more times until John paused.
A moan had slipped from your lips when his hand connected with the curve of your ass for the fourth time. "You getting off on this?" He asks but doesn't need you to reply, he already knows the answer from the way you're squirming under his thigh, trying to grind your pussy over his knee in an attempt to cum.
In one switch motion John moves so he is behind you. He's about to speak out a command until he sees your hands move underneath you. You undo your belt and unbutton your jeans and John takes it from there. He pulls the clothes past your ass and down your thighs until they rest at the backs of your knees then he quickly works to undo his own jeans. As he fumbles with the buckle of his belt he looks around making sure that no-one is nearby and frees his hard cock.
Giving it a few tugs for good measure John lines himself up with your pussy and starts to slowly push in, relishing the way your cum coats his head and lubricates the shaft as he pushes deep inside until fully sheathed. "Fuck John, so good." You mumble. It had been months since you'd last got your leg over someone. Things had gotten a little hot and heavy in the bunkhouse with Ryan but that was quickly shut down when Lloyd and Rip entered drunk one night and you had to do a quick shuffle of shame to your own bunk.
But right now in this moment it didn't matter if you had fucked someone an hour prior, the way Johns cock filled your cunt was something that you'd never felt before. Your pussy felt like it was made just for him, it fit perfectly around his shaft as he pounded you into the blanket, his palm connecting with your bare ass every few seconds as he aimed to make both cheeks dark red.
Your walls squeeze around his cock as you cum. "That's it baby, cum for daddy." His voice is low but commanding as your thighs shake. After a few more thrusts John is pumping his seed deep inside of you, his thumbs dig into the deep red marks on your cheeks.
Coming down from your high you try to raise up from the blanket. "Fuck." You say in a whimpered tone. "I won't ever call you old man again." You rub at your ass cheeks and John laughs.
"At least you've learnt your lesson darlin'."
#mine#mywriting#John dutton#John Dutton x reader#John Dutton x female reader#John dutton smut#yellowstone#Yellowstone imagine#Kevin costner#Kevin Costner smut#Kevin costner x reader#Kevin costner imagine#Yellowstone John dutton
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Crash
Summary: An accident pulls you and Melissa further into each other’s orbit.
Chapter: 1/4
Chapter 1
Melissa passed the crash on her way to school. By then, road cleanup services were removing shattered glass and twisted hunks of metal from the street. As traffic slowed and she maneuvered around the remains of the accident, she saw a bike that looked just like yours being loaded onto a tow truck. A sick feeling washed over her. She floored it the last few blocks of her commute, tires squealing as she turned into the parking lot of Abbott Elementary.
Classes hadn’t officially started back yet. Today was a designated teacher planning day at the end of winter break. Most of the staff would trickle in later, enjoying the relaxed pace of a morning with no students. But Melissa had left the house early. She wanted to grab a cup of coffee, gab with Barbara, ease into the new year. And alright, yeah, maybe she was also hoping to see you, swap a few family holiday horror stories (“trauma” as you preferred to call it), and make fun of whatever godawful healthy thing you brought in for breakfast. She didn’t usually trust school shrinks—any shrinks for that matter—but everybody knew she had a soft spot for you.
Melissa scanned the parking lot anxiously, praying to see your motorcycle tucked safely into its usual spot. You had been so protective of that stupid bike when you first got hired, she almost wrote you off as a ginzaloon gear-head. But once you realized how gah gah the kids went over it, you started parking right next to the playground—even occasionally caving to the demands of her excited second graders, revving the engine during recess as they cheered you on.
She had rolled her eyes at the time, but she didn’t mind the theatrics. She also didn’t mind the sight of your long legs straddling that leather seat. Had even indulged in a brief fantasy of what it would feel like to join you there, slipping her arms around your waist, nuzzling her face into the middle of your shoulders. That was before this morning, before she’d seen the mangled leftovers in the road. Before she decided she hated motorcycles.
Melissa locked her car and hustled into the school, past your ominously empty parking spot. As the school psychologist, you worked in a private office near the front of the building. It even had an en-suite bathroom, a fact which caught you major shit with the other faculty. Especially from Melissa, who had given you endless grief at the start of your first semester.
She pulled out her cell phone, trying not to panic as she made a beeline for your office. A dozen terrible images flashed through her mind. You crumpled on the side of the road; you being lifted into an ambulance; you lifeless on a cold slab in some distant part of the city. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
The redhead rounded the corner at breakneck speed in her high-heels, starting to dial your number with shaky hands. But the door to your office was slightly ajar and a dim light was spilling out into the hallway. She breathed an instant sigh of relief, calling your name as she booted her way into the room. “Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack—“
Melissa froze in her tracks. A bloody white t-shirt had been discarded on the coffee table, and your helmet sat on the little sofa beside your desk. Its visor was shattered and there were long, ugly scratches on the side. “Melissa?” Your voice sounded strange and faint from inside the bathroom.
She dropped her bags and sprang toward the door, jiggling the handle. “Open this door right now or I swear to god I’ll break it down.”
She heard the familiar huff of your laugh, cut short by a grunt of pain that made her heart clench. “Gimme a sec,” you said softly.
“Right. Now.” Patience had never been one of her virtues.
She shifted back and forth, willed herself to be calm. There was some shuffling, a few more agonizing seconds, and finally the click of the lock. Melissa pushed the door open carefully and you stepped back until your hips hit the sink.
Her hands were on you in an instant, insistent but soft, surveying the damage. You gripped the edge of the porcelain for support, blinking hard through an unpleasant wave of dizziness.
“You should see the other guy,” you said, hoping to ease the tension rolling off the other woman in waves. She ignored you, gently running her hands over your body as she made a thorough inventory of every bump, bruise, and bloody scrape. You swallowed thickly, unsure what to say. Finding yourself half-naked in front of Melissa Schemmenti had not been on this morning’s bingo card. Your heart hammered in your chest.
“I’ve been trying to put on a clean shirt for the past 10 minutes,” you explained lamely, gesturing to the oversized Abbott Elementary Field Day tee folded on the vanity. “But I’m moving a little slow.”
That was an understatement, especially now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off. The EMTs had diagnosed you with one or two cracked ribs, some gnarly abrasions, and plenty of bruising where your bike had slammed into the median. But mostly they had diagnosed you as lucky. Very, very lucky.
“What’s broken?” Her tone was clipped, still tight with fear.
“Nothing.”
She gave you a “cut-the-bullshit” look and you folded instantly.
“Maybe some cracked ribs,” you amended, trying to make this sound as breezy as possible. “It’s ok, really. It looks worse than it is.”
You sucked in a shallow breath as her fingers ghosted over the bandages on your side. Green eyes flashed up at you in outrage.
“It looks worse than it is?” she repeated softly. You shivered as she rested her hand on your hip. “Well, it looks pretty fucking bad. It looks like that tonto bike almost got you killed.”
You swallowed nervously, caught off guard by the absolute iciness of her voice. “It wasn’t my fault,” you tried to explain. “Actually, it was—“
“I don’t want to hear it!”
You flinched as she practically spat the words at you, splotches of red rising in the ivory column of her throat. Her legendary temper was something you’d seen in action plenty of times. But this went beyond angry.
“There’s no excuse for putting yourself in danger, capisce? It’s unacceptable to me!” She was shouting by now, eyes brimming, chest heaving.
You placed a tentative hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off and turned away, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was a gesture you’d seen her make only a handful of times—during the always-tense active shooter drills and, on one frightening occasion, when they’d briefly lost track of a student during a field trip. Seeing it now, and being the cause of it, made you feel miserable.
Melissa had barreled into your life about a year ago when you first started working at Abbott. You liked her immediately. Leather pants, mischievous smirk, loud as hell. She was all rough edges and no apologies. More than anything, she was complicated. Guarded but generous, tough but tender. A dozen fiery contradictions that made your heart race.
She teased you from the first moment she laid eyes on you—for being the new kid on the block, for being a “touchy-feely” therapist, for being a millennial. Rather than making you feel ostracized, the attention lit you up. At first you’d worked your ass off just to impress her, to earn her respect. Then you saw what a dedicated teacher she was. You started seeking her out for advice about some of the more troubled kids in your care, going for drinks with her on Fridays, getting her to open up to you. By the time she realized what was happening, you’d slipped straight past her defenses.
“Sorry,” Melissa said gruffly, wiping at her eye makeup. “I shouldn’t’a yelled.”
“I’m sorry, too,” you said, shifting off the sink and limping toward her. “Why don’t you head down to the teacher’s lounge and get a cup of coffee? I can clean up here and meet you in a bit, you don’t have to deal with all this.”
She looked up at you defiantly. For the first time, she noticed a cut near your hairline. There were small butterfly stitches pinching the skin together. All the fight went out of her at once.
“You think a little blood is gonna scare off a Schemmenti?” She reached up and cupped your jawline. Tender.
“I ain’t lettin’ you out of my sight,” Melissa added with a growl. Tough.
She took a moment to drink in the full miracle of you, alive and mostly in one piece. And what a piece it was. Her gaze drifted down to your sports bra, your low-slung riding pants, the band of your boxer-briefs just visible on your waist. Melissa shook her head, withdrawing her hand.
“Need some help gettin’ dressed?”
You blinked, refocusing on her with considerable effort.
“Bet you say that to all the girls,” you said.
Again you felt a little ripple of shyness, exposed and disheveled in front of Melissa who looked good enough to eat—as always. Thick red hair cascading over her shoulders, clothes that hugged her figure in all the right places, gold necklaces with pendants of the saints cradled in the valley of her creamy cleavage. She smirked, unfolding the fresh t-shirt and giving you an appreciative once-over.
“You been working out?” she asked.
You chuckled. “Glad someone finally noticed.”
Melissa pursed her full lips and tilted her head to the side. “Not bad.”
You knew this was just a game to her. She was a flirt by nature and she loved to make you squirm, make you blush. Still, your stomach twisted pleasantly at the compliment.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she continued, noting your obviously pleased expression. “It’s a little dramatic as far as cries for attention go.”
“What do you mean?” you asked as Melissa guided your head carefully through the neck of the shirt, tucking a few flyaway strands of hair back into place. You shivered at the featherlight feel of her fingertips around the shell of your ear.
“Playin’ evil knievel,” she clarified. “Just for an excuse to take your top off in front of me.”
“Look who’s talking!” you fired back. “For all I know, you hired that guy to run me off the road so you could get me alone in a state of undress.”
Melissa, who had been grinning at you from under her long eyelashes and fussing with the hem of your shirt, stilled. The smile slid off her face.
“What’d ya say?”
You frowned, backpedaling. “Sorry, bad joke—“
“No, not that part.” She waved her hand, gold bangles clattering. “The part about someone ran ya off the road? On purpose?”
You nodded your head.
Her voice dipped back into a decidedly frosty register. “And you’re just now tellin’ me this?”
“Well, I tried to mention it a second ago but then there was all the yelling,” you explained. “And you know how I feel about yelling.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “You feel that it ain’t productive,” she said, applying heavy air quotes around the last word.
“But I appreciate that it’s a cultural norm in many families,” you said. “I know Italian-American households—“
“Jesus fucking Christ!” she exploded. “Someone tried to fucking kill you! Do you appreciate that?”
You winced at the volume of the outburst, headache lurking in the base of your skull. “Yeah, I reported it to the cops who came to the scene, okay? They’re looking for the guy.“
Melissa placed a red lacquered fingernail under your chin.
“You’re never riding that death trap again, you hear me, kid?”
Her green eyes, challenging and possessive, bored into yours. You wondered what would happen if you defied her, told her no, refused outright. The only problem was…you so desperately wanted to give her exactly what she wanted. Not just today, but every day. Trying to please Melissa Schemmenti had become a kind of obsession, a thrill you chased at your own risk.
“Well you don’t have to worry,” you said, mouth suddenly dry. “The bike is totaled.”
She gripped your chin, intent on eliciting a promise. “I mean it.”
A shiver went through you at her low, commanding tone.
“Ok, ok,” you relented. “I’ll be a good girl, mommy.”
It was supposed to be a joke but the words came out as a desperate whine. You felt a flush of color rising in your cheeks as Melissa quirked an eyebrow at you—half scandalized, half delighted. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, the intercom crackled to life. The sudden noise made you both spring apart.
“All faculty please report to the assembly hall in 15 minutes.”
You hissed at the sudden movement, curling over slightly. Melissa’s hands shot out to steady you.
“You alright?” she asked. All traces of teasing laughter had vanished from her face. “What am I, an idiota? Of course you’re not alright. I should drive ya home!”
“No,” you said, waving the suggestion off wearily. “I don’t wanna be by myself all day. I’ll go crazy.”
“Look at youse,” she argued, concern clouding her eyes. “You can barely stand upright. Your helmet looks like it was in a blender, for chrissakes. You came this close to…to—“
She made a small choked noise, unable to finish the sentence. Her hand flew up to her mouth and she squeezed her eyes shut, clearly trying to block out some unwanted mental image. You intertwined your fingers with hers carefully, sweetly, and brought her hand away from her face.
“Nothing happened,” you said evenly. “I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re fine.”
“Don’t use your therapy voice on me,” she warned, dabbing at her eyes again. She looked down at your hands loosely joined together and brushed a finger over the back of your knuckles. When she spoke she sounded uncertain, none of her usual cocksure confidence.
“You swear you’re alright to stay for the day? You won’t…make yourself worse?”
“I’m fine,” you repeated. “Just hurts when I…”
“Move? Breathe? Blink?” she guessed, tone sarcastic once more. “Am I gettin’ warmer?”
You winked. “You’re red hot.”
A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “And don’t you forget it, baby.”
Melissa considered you for a moment. She didn’t like the way the skin around your eyes was pinched, or the protective way you held yourself. But she also didn’t like the idea of you being on your own all day. Better to keep you close.
“Alright, alright,” she said. “You can stay, but on one condition—you don’t overdo it.”
You rolled your eyes. “We work in an elementary school, not the ThunderDome.”
“No jokes,” she insisted. “I mean it, say you swear.”
It was a rare display of vulnerability from Melissa, who walked through life making demands rather than requests. You schooled your face into a serious expression. Looping your little finger around hers, you brought your fist to your mouth.
“I pinky promise,” you said. “Seal it with a kiss?”
Her eyes flickered down to your lips and lingered for a fraction of a second too long. Even a year into this dangerous dance with Melissa, you weren’t quite sure where the line was, or what would happen if (when?) you found it, crossed it.
“Millennials,” she said, but her voice was husky. “What’s next, gonna ask me to join your polycule?”
Slowly, you both leaned in. You were close enough to smell her shampoo and the bright citrusy lotion she used on her face. It made you swoon. Her eyes closed as you both planted chaste kisses on your fists, faces only inches apart.
The tacky sound of Melissa’s lip gloss making contact with the inside of her own hand sent an unexpected jolt of arousal right to the pit of your stomach. Suddenly, you found yourself lost in a little fantasy, wondering what it would be like to pull her close, to drag your fingers through her hair, to feel the inside of her soft mouth with your tongue. A familiar and ferocious longing—one that you worked very hard to neutralize during working hours—seized you, painful and roaring and undeniable. A longing for more of Melissa, for whatever she would give you.
The other woman cleared her throat suddenly, breaking the spell.
“You ready, hon?” She was gazing at you cautiously, like you might break apart. You shook your head, hoping you didn’t look as strung out as you felt.
“Sorry,” you said. “Let’s head down to the auditorium.”
She smirked, looping an arm around your waist and helping you out of the bathroom. “I’ll say this for ya,” she said, flicking the lights out and closing the door behind her. “You sure know how to start the new year with a bang.”
Chapter 2
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look at us | joel miller



pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2748 warnings: 18+ blog; Smut, maybe even smut with no real plot, Nipple play, orgasm through nipple stimulation, praise, multiple orgasms, using arousal as lube, mutual masterbastion (f & m), cum eating/sharing, mirror watching, my horrible attempt at keeping a conversation flowing during sexy time, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself, fluff, established relationship, mentioned that reader is wearing a dress & bra but has zero descriptive features, can be read as no outbreak or prior to outbreak Joel, there’s no Sarah in this universe notes: this is a reimagined version of an older fic i posted and didn’t really like for some reason. Switched the characters and reworked it a bit. Smut is so hard to write for me, I just question the whole thing in its entirety and never want to do it again. But I love this storyline so much more now as Joel that I honestly don’t even care if the smut is wonky— I just want joel now. This writer supports Palestine and does not share or support the views of tlou creator.
It’s a heady sensation.
Visceral. Demanding. Gratifying.
His touch. A grounding force that burns through you, igniting every nerve ending in its wake.
Plaint and warm, your body blooms with a carnal appetency.
He’s emboldened by every sound he plucks from you. The softest whimpers that fall from your lips, kiss every single inch of his dewy skin. He’s forever addicted to your willingness to take what he has to give you— always wanting more.
Generous. Attentive. Steadfast.
Earnestness bleeds into a lustrous selfishness. The anticipation palpable, watching as you come apart in his arms, your pleasure is his forevermore.
It’s intuitive, the way he’s drawn to you. Most mornings, taking advantage of what little time he has with you, before work is pulling you both in different directions. Then you’re reunited for the evening and he’s making up for lost time, devouring and satisfying, well into the next day.
An endless cycle of being connected and reconnecting.
When weekends come around, he’s selfish. Overindulging beyond his means. Knowing he has ample time to relish in the closeness. Met with endless opportunities to have you near in any capacity as the hours of the day tick on, time he doesn’t take for granted.
Today is no different. From the moment the truck backs out of the driveway, beginning the several mile drive across town in the direction of Tommy’s home, he’s reaching for your hand.
Palm to palm, fingers perfectly intertwined as your hands stay connected over the center console of his pickup. The afternoon sun streaming through the window, adding to the already budding warmth that’s building between you. The conversation is light. Joel listening intently as you share details from your week, his thumb working over your knuckles as you move through the highlights of your story.
The remainder of the drive has a comfortable lull as the miles roll by. Music streaming through the cab, the lyrics provoking a wave of affection. Joel’s lips find the top of your hand periodically, his gaze never breaking from the road ahead. Your heart racing instantly at his instinctual gesture.
The gathering of friends— barbecuing, music and laughter, doesn't deter him from keeping you within arms reach.
Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back, fingers lightly dragging back and forth over your tingling spine, as you both exchange hello’s and hugs to the group friends in attendance scattered around the backyard
While Tommy is busy tending to the food on the barbecue, Joel and you are caught up listening to Paul, Tommy’s old army buddy and the newest hire at Joel’s construction company, share stories from his and Tommy’s time together in the military. Both of you enthralled by the recounts of close calls and embarrassing moments for the younger Miller brother, only to be interrupted by a flustered Tommy calling for Paul to grab plates and napkins from inside.
The minute you’re alone his hand is wandering south, grabbing at the meat of your ass and pulling you flush against him. It’s the first moment you’ve been alone since arriving and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to take advantage of it.
You smile into his kiss, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as he leans in close, his hushed words fanning across your ear.
“You look so damn pretty in that dress. Can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” The husk in his voice nearly makes you melt further into him, not even surprised by the cool dampness coating the silk panties you chose today, just for him.
“Hmmm— your hands haven’t left me since we got here.” You muse.
“I like havin’ you close.”
“You’ve made that quite obvious, Miller.” You joke, before he’s silencing you with another less than chaste kiss.
Dinner is served as the sun begins its descent. The air dropping a few degrees cooler, has goosebumps pricking at your skin. But it’s nothing compared to the shiver Joel is causing you, his hand nestled between your legs under the table.
You find it hard to focus between all the lively conversations being volleyed across the table, dishes being passed around and laughter cutting through friendly onslaughts of fuck you’s.
Joel mindlessly massaging at your thigh as he talks. Filling everyone in on the projects he’s started around the house, while your brain is muddled with thoughts of Joel’s hands and only Joel’s hands.
You can’t be positive it’s a deliberate move— or is it? You’ve been with him long enough to know what a calculated man Joel is.
He leans forward to reach for the ketchup bottle, his other hand shifting further up your thighs, his demeanor is cool and even as his fingers brush over your clothed mound. His fingers slowly gliding over the very drenched fabric. You swallow a thick gasp as your hips cant forward on instinct, chasing his retreating hand, your cunt aching and desperate for more of his teasing.
The wink he shoots you as he settles back in his chair is all the evidence you need to know his plan worked.
“Look like you saw an infected zombie or somethin’. Everything okay, Baby?” You want to kiss the devilish smirk right off of his handsome face.
“Y-yeah.” Horny and desperate for you, but fine.
“Y’sure about that? Those perked nipples of yours are tellin’ a different story, Sweetheart.” He quietly calls you out. You glance down to see the thin fabric of your summer dress and lace bra are no match to conceal the hardened peaks— your body so easily betraying you is nothing new.
“We should head out soon.” You say softly, Joel nods immediately, the silent agreement has you eager for what’s in store when you arrive home.
The ongoing conversation among the others is now muted background noise as you stare into his needy eyes, your hand cupping the side of his face as your thumb traces over his plush lower lip.
“We’re headin’ out. Thanks for havin’ us, Tommy. Hope to see y’all again sometime soon. ‘Night.” Joel rushes through announcing your departure, pulling you from your seat, his body crowding behind you as he ushers you towards his truck.
“You’re not even gonna stay and help clean up?” Tommy pouts from his chair.
“You’re a big boy Tommy, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Joel yells over his shoulder with a two finger wave as the gate clicks shut, home and you are the only thing cares about for the remainder of the evening.
“Fuuuuuuuck— Joel!” Your mind slowly seeping into a deep pleasured state.
There’s little recollection of leaving Tommy’s house and the drive home, other than Joel’s unrelenting need to have you close at all times— no complaints from you whatsoever.
Joel’s firm grip on your hand when he all but drags you to the bedroom of your shared home, clothes stripped at the foot of your bed in a hasty fashion.
The accumulation of Joel’s fiery touches throughout the day were merely effortless foreplay, all considered and aiding in his profound efforts that have been unfolding since arriving home.
“You look so fuckin’ good. Look at us, Baby.” The low gravel of his voice is overwhelming, but laced with pure authenticity. You lift your head just enough as your eyes slowly flutter open, trying to catch a glimpse of what he sees in the full length mirror positioned on the wall across from where you both are in bed— a mere coincidence that it was placed in there when you moved in.
“‘M l-looking, J-joel.”
It’s exquisitely striking how your cunt flutters madly against the cool air of the bedroom. The sight alone is better than any pornography you’ve consumed together.
Joel sitting up against the headboard holding your body close to his. Your back firm and tacky against his chest, breathing in rhythmic unity.
His feet hooked around your ankles, keeping your legs spread out as he hones in on the two luring forms glaring back in the mirror, a view that will forever edge out his own fantasies of you.
His large hands hold the weight of your breasts with pleasing dexterity, whispering the most beautiful obscene things into your ear.
I love your body. I love the way you moan. Missed your pussy all day. God, you’re always on my mind. Fuck, you’re makin’ me so hard. Louder. Fuck. Look at me.
Your gaze finally catches Joel’s in the reflection. It’s direct and overwhelming, his warm brown eyes flickering with a bold desire igniting a ripple of goosebumps over your body.
You’re both possessed by the new wave of arousal, glistening in the afternoon light, as it ardently drips from your pussy down to the bed sheets. Desperately craving to be devastated by this handsome man.
Joel’s thumbs swipe over your hard sensitive nipples, pulling a breathy gasp from your lips. Your head falling back into his shoulder as you let the sensation fully consume you.
“You like that don’t you?” You can only manage to hum in response, which encourages him to continue his work over the pebbled skin.
“Y-yes. You know how much I d-do.”
Joel knows this. Well enough too. It’s a normal occurrence that you find yourself in this identic state. Your body buzzing and exhausted, molded against Joel’s. His cock weeping and begging for relief, snuggly nestled between your roaring bodies. His skilled hands reducing you to putty.
Rolling. Pinching. Pulling. Flicking.
Each thorough caress sends an intense and deep feeling of delirium surging through you. Building and building the delicate structure for an elaborate release.
“So perfect all laid out for me. You gonna come for me?. I think you’re almost there, Baby. Just need a little more, huh?”
“Joel— I-I don’t think I can this time. N-need— oh fuck Joel! I need a little m-more.”
You’re cut off when you feel Joel’s fingers faintly slide over your throbbing clit and bypassing it completely. He swipes through your wet folds. You think he might finally give in. Plunge one, maybe two of his thick fingers into your aching heat, caress your velvet walls until you’re coming undone. Your body jolts as he gathers your arousal on his fingers, then abandons the ache and returns to his previous ministrations.
His arousal slick digits glide over each of your perked nipples. The wet eager strokes have your back arching as you moan into the room, your body tense and vibrating.
“Joel— yes! That feels so good! fuckfuckfuck! I— I’m so close Joel! D-don’t stop!” You let out a sharp moan.
“I ain’t stoppin’, Sweetheart. So fuckin’ beautiful. Can’t wait to see you come, Baby— just let go.” His hushed words paired with the way he rolls your stiff nubs between his fingers is just the push you needed, your climax vibrant and beautiful as it erupts, spreading through you faster than you can announce its existence.
Joel watches you fall apart in the mirror. Your breathless state has his hips grinding against your lower back as he continues to clutch your breasts. The glimmering beads of sweat rolling down your throat and chest, joining the layer pooling between your bodies.
It’s the view of your cunt that nearly takes him out, empty and pulsating, he’s never been so proud of a sight. He adds the mental snapshot to his backlog of imagery he’ll store of you until the end of his days.
“God, Joel. That— that was amazing!.” You say, peeling your satiated body from his.
Turning to face him, you sit in the space between where his legs are sprawled open, your hands massaging at his calves. You take in how enticing he looks, laid back on the stack of pillows, a slack grin on his handsome face as he slowly pumps his hardened cock.
You’re completely entranced by the sight, all thick and tempting. Biting at your lip teasingly, a hand all but subtly slips between your legs and your fingers begin delicately tracing circles over your clit.
Husked gasps falling from Joel’s parted lips as he alternates his movements. Long languid strokes over the length of his shaft then pausing briefly, his grip stilled and tight around the base as the reddened tip slowly leaks.
You gasp as the warmth of your sex engulfs your fingers triggering another gush of arousal to trickle down your thighs. Your other hand still connected to Joel’s leg, grounding your floating form to him.
Joel's eyes scan you, absorbing your blissed-out state, his hand matching your own steady movements, rhythmically moving over himself, his breaths now emerging as heavy pants.
Your fingers enthusiastically moving in and out with ease as your hips writhe keenly in search of the perfect position. The remnants of your previous orgasm are still lingering, beautifully aiding in the build up of the next. Your brows pinched in pleasure.
The room is dense with sexual humidity. Doused in a mixture of the ambered vanilla candle you burn frequently and a sweet ambrosial musk.
“Fuck— how’d I get so fuckin’ lucky with a woman like you? fuck!.” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, neck taut and nose flared as he tries to breathe through how good he’s making himself feel. “Why don’t you— shit —c’mere.”
“Mmm-ah! T-tempting, Baby. ohgod! Think I’ll stay put. I’m actually enjoying the view quite nicely from here. You look so good like this, Joel.” Seeing him accept your praise is a vision you’ll never get tired of, allowing himself to give in and take what he needs.
Your fingers graze over that delicious little spot with success, a cresting wave set in motion, the sensation causing your walls to convulse. A moan escapes your lips, paralleling with Joel’s own sounds. Your head involuntarily tilts back, as you ride out the euphoric moment.
“Shit! Sweetheart, I’m— I’m gonna— Hnng!Fuuuck!”
Joel’s fist erratically pumps over his length, his eyes locked on your naked form, ragged breaths and eager moans. Your eyes struggle to stay focused through the hazy chaos, drawn to his flushed body, paralyzed with an ample dose of desire as he nears his finish.
“Come for me, Joel.” You’ve shifted yourself a little closer to where he’s eagerly working himself over, encouraging him to let go.
He does— white hot ropes of cum paint his stomach, his actions slowing as the last few drops spill over his hand. He breathes out a deep sigh, giving you a lopsided grin as his arms fall to his sides. Eyes heavy with a mixture of lust and love.
“Fuck— now will you c’mere?”
You draw your lower lip between your teeth, now hovering over where his now softening dick rests against his stomach. You don’t break eye contact as you lean down and lick at the sticky mess.
“Goddamn— Ah!” Joel hisses, the warmth of your tongue dragging up the length of his cock. Lapping at the dappled layer of silky brininess covering his lower abdomen, purring with satisfaction as you swallow it.
“God.Damn.” You echo his words back to him, your lips move over his— he groans at the taste of himself still on your tongue.
A slow, content smile forms on your face as you tenderly kiss his neck, followed by a series of soft kisses down his chest and stomach.
“Gimme a minute— just need to regroup and then I’ll be ready to go again.”
“Whatever you say, my love.” Joel’s arms wrap a you and you melt into him. “Or I can draw us a hot bath and we can soak until we’re prunes.” A yawn perfectly placed at the end of your suggestion.
“Sounds like a plan. How ‘bout we nap then soak?” You sleepily hum in response.
"Love you, Sweetheart," Joel whispers, before pressing his lips to the top of your head.
“Mmm— love you, Joel.”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#no outbreak!joel miller#pre outbreak!joel#pedro pascal#wildemaven writes#pedrostories
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Look Who's Inside Again pt. 2
Jenna Ortega x fem!reader
"Try making faces, try telling jokes, making little sounds."
Summary: Emma Myers is suddenly hired to play a new role in the project, and she's trying to be your wingman.
a/n: I love writing an awkward and shy reader
Part 1. Part 2.


I wake up to the sound of beeping outside my trailer. I dramatically roll over to check the time, grabbing my phone to read 7 am. I plop onto my back, still having another couple hours. The beeping stopped, followed by someone giving some sort of instructions. My curiosity overtakes my desire to stay under my blanket, forcing myself out of bed.
I find myself looking at myself in a full length mirror. I'm wearing an oversized graphic tee and athletic short shorts. I also have the craziest case of bedhair.
I swing open the door to the trailer, forgetting I just woke up and I still have bed hair. I lean outside the doorway, holding onto the wall to keep myself from falling. I see a truck positioning a new trailer next to mine. I see a new face outside, instantly recognizing her as my friend Emma Myers.
The last movie I was in starred Emma Myers as the main lead, I was the lead's roommate. I didn't have many scenes, but that was definitely my the biggest project I've been in before this. I'll still occasionally find posts online about shipping our two characters.
I was lucky that Emma and I instantly hit it off when we met. I can't explain how it was different to this current movies cast, but there's just something so approachable about her.
My quick steps rock the trailer as I hurry to the bathroom. I manage to do as much of my morning routine as possible before the sound of a knock on the door fills the room.
I glance at my reflection one last time, satisfied for the moment, before going to open the door. On the other side I find Emma with a smile on their face.
Emma practically tackles me to the ground in a hug. "Surprise!"
I wrap my arms around her. "Not much of a surprise." I say with a smile. "Kinda difficult not to hear when they're setting up a new trailer."
Emma loosens her embrace with a smile, taking a step back down off the trailer. There's a chunk sound where's Emma's trailer is, causing both of us to turn our head towards the noise.
"Emma!" A voice comes from that direction. "Your trailer is all set."
Emma sticks her arm towards the voice, sticking a thumb up. She turns back to me. "I'll see you soon I gotta." She points with her thumb towards the trailer. "You should come keep me company after you finish getting ready."
"I definitely will." I say with a smile.

I knock on the door to Emma's trailer, seconds later I'm met with her smile on the other side of the door.
"Y/n! Come on in!" She takes a step back, making space for me to pass through.
My first few steps up the stairs slightly shake the trailer. I take a look around before finding a seat. "So does everyone bring string lights?" I ask with a smile while Emma is in the process of hanging more of them.
"Mostly girls." She states after she finishes the last of her decorations. "Most trailers I've seen guys in are barely decorated."
She takes a seat next to me, her body twisted to face me. "So, you been getting along with the crew? I know how you can be with new people."
"It's been okay, Jenna's nice." I say, looking at the floor to avoid eye contact.
"Oh yeah? Jenna's nice?" She says with a smirk.
I manage to bring my eyes back to hers, my eyebrow raised. "What?" I say with confusion lacing my voice.
"Oh nothing." Her smirk strengthens as she readjusts her seating to sit on her knees facing me. "I just remember us having a conversation before about how I was so lucky to work with Jenna in Wednesday. Something about how she's so pretty and cute and gorgeous." She looks up towards the ceiling when she says the adjectives.
My face instantly flushes with a red heat. "I don't know what you're talking about." I state suspiciously fast.
"Omg you so totally like her!" She says too loudly.
My eyes widen slightly as my blush worsens. "I don't! I... I hardly even know her." I turn to the side to avoid facing Emma directly. "And besides, she said in her book-"
"You read her book? that's so cute!" She's practically beaming, confident about my feelings about her now.
I was about to speak until a knocking on the door interrupts me. Emma looks towards the noise. "The door is open!"
The person opens the door, taking a few steps in to reveal Jenna. My face flushes a deeper red at the thought of what she could've heard.
"It seems you're settling in nicely." She says, admiring the decorations.
"I was until this one distracted me." Emma lightly pushed me.
Jenna looks at me for a moment before looking back to Emma. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to go on a walk or something if you were done decorating. You could come along as well Y/n if you'd like"
A mischievous smile finds its way onto Emma's lips. "Unfortunately, this one is distracting me from settling in."
"I assumed you just finish-" I start to speak before Emma interrupts me.
"You should take her away from me, so I can manage to finish decorating." She stands, pulling me up with her before lightly pushing me towards Jenna.
Jenna looks at me with a smile before addressing Emma. "I'll take her off your hands."
Jenna heads to leave the trailer. I hold back a minute to find Emma giving me a wink, causing me to blush again before following Jenna out.
Jenna leads me to a small trail that circles around a pond. The sun glistens off the water along with the reflection of the trees.
We walk on the concrete path side by side, some of my steps an awkward distance to avoid stepping on the cracks. The silence between us is comfortable as we admire the scenery around us.
"So..." Jenna draws out the o. I move my eyes from the water to glance at Jenna before looking away again. "You've read my book?"
I feel my heart rate increase as my face flushes in embarrassment. "You heard that?"
She chuckles. "The walls of the trailer are thin."
I find myself silent for a moment. "Is that okay? That I read your book I mean."
"I don't mind, I mean it's published for a reason." The path starts to lead to a dock by the water.
The sound of our footsteps on concrete transition to footsteps on wood as we near the railing facing the water. I notice ducks swimming across the reflection of trees and clouds.
"Did you hear anything else?" I ask almost in a whisper before resting my hands on the wooden railings, staring at the wavy reflection in the water.
Jenna is silent for a moment, deciding what she should do or say. She rests her hands on the railing as well, the side of her hand coming into contact with mine.
I instinctively pull my hand away until she gently wraps her pinky finger over mine. "I might've heard more." She says with a smile.
I feel my heart jump out of my chest at her words and actions, my face being the only red thing reflecting off the water.
"Is this okay? The touch I mean." She asks looking at me.
I nod without hesitation, tightening my pinky around hers.
She is silent for a moment, looking at me with a cute smile. "You might've said something about how I'm pretty, and cute, and gorgeous."
I find myself sliding down to my knees, covering my face with my left hand. My right hand still in place on the railing with Jenna's and I's pinky's still interlocked.
I feel Jenna look down at me. "I usually try to know the person more before I make any moves like this." Jenna inches her hand closer, slowly starting to cover my hand with hers. "But you know that. You've read my book."
She starts to gently pry my fingers off the railing. "There's something different about you, something authentic." Her fingers find their way around mine, our hands now in the air resting below the railing.
"You're not afraid to be yourself." She pulls me up by our interlocked fingers, causing me to find my way to my feet.
I turn to see Jenna's dark eyes on mine, seeing the reflection of the water within them. I find a new found infatuation in her eyes. She turns to look at the water.
I find my legs shaking at the thought of making any sort of move, wondering where this came from. I take a step closer, our connected hands resting by our sides. I take another awkward step closer till our shoulders touch.
I feel my heart jump out of my chest yet again, as I slowly and gently lower my head to rest on her shoulder.
We found ourselves mesmerized by the ever-changing reflections on the water. I lose my eyes on the reflection of the sun, the closest color on the water to match the hue of my face.
a/n: this was shorter than I expected and definitely unrealistic, but I still hope you enjoyed :)
taglist
@mirage018
@thekid4466
#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x female reader
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oh sweetheart pt. 2.5
pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader
word count: 1.2k
rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)
warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol,
summary: ellie gets your phone number.
author notes: hi just something small for a filler, setting up for the next part, hoping to have it posted up friday the 1st! thank you for reading! pls reblog, comment, or like! i love the support, and thank you for over 1000 likes and 100 followers!! it’s a great feeling
italic = ellie and bold = reader
part 2.5 | part 3
series masterlist <3
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.



its been a week and a half since you last saw her when she drove you home from the match in her old busted truck. thoughts of her plagued your mind all week. you wondered if she was working. you wondered if she was out with friends. you wondered if she was thinking about you. she is but you don’t know that. you’re not aware she’s thinking of you also. thinking of the way the smell of strawberries stained her car after you left. thinking of the way you said you like it when she calls you sweetheart.
both of you wonder when the next time you’ll see each other is.
its a wednesday afternoon, you’re currently sitting on the couch with dina. she’s the only friend you have down here so far and its not weird that she’s dating your brother. she has come over a bunch, helping you shop, getting little things for your apartment, watching movies and of course, getting high. which is exactly what you’re doing right now. you both sat on your old lumpy couch and watched the iron man series that you had on dvd, not paying to much attention to the tv, but rather your conversion.
��so no luck still? you should just come work with me at the farm, i mean i love it- the horse shit not so much.” dina exclaimed.
“yeah its like no one is hiring, i may have to take you up on that, i still wanna keep looking though, maybe something will come along.” you told her.
“yeah avoid horse shit as long as you can, something will come along don’t worry!” she said trying to make you feel better knowing you’re stressed. but at the end of the day, you need something to fill your time besides thinking of the boxer that drove you home.
you guys just sat and talked then eventually as the credits rolled for the last movie, you got up and started to clean up the mess from the pizza you ordered earlier. after you went to the kitchen and put the plates in the sink, you grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses and made your way back to dina still in the living room. you hold it up to her and with the look on her face, you knew she was thinking the same thing.
by the third bottle, it was 10pm and you’ve run out of weed and not much wine left but you both are feeling great, laughing and giggling like kids. its nice to have a friend you thought.
“what are you doing friday night?” she questioned.
you responded to her, “probably exactly what im doing right now” you both laughed.
“well there’s another match this weekend, me and jesse are going if you want to come along again, ellie will be there too.” she replied. you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when she said her name.
“woah! what’s with the smiling and the blushing…” she joked asking. you didn’t tell either of them what happened that night at the first match. from outside or inside, they assumed you both got an uber and you didn’t tell them any differently.
“nothing, i just thought she was nice thats all.” you said trying not make any signs of anything more.
“oh she is!,” dina started, “well maybe not at first but once you get to know her, we’ve been friends for years now,” she laughed and kept going, “she fights at the gym sometimes, but she works there too, its a good hang out space plus cheap drinks. plus she’s bringing us the restock.” she finished as she picked up her weed jar.
“oh you get it from her?” you inquired, thinking back to the faint smell of weed in her car when she drove you home.
“yeah she’s got good stuff and nice deals, ugh its great, always easier to get it from someone you know,” she ended. you thought about asking her if you could tell her to get you some to and for some other non-obvious reason but she beat you to it.
“ill send her your number and she’ll text you.” she said to you as she pulled out her phone and sent a message. a few moments later, her phone rang and she answered, it was jesse waiting outside for her so she gave you a hug and grabbed her stuff and you walked her to the door.
you locked it before you turned around to sit back down on the couch, grabbed the wine glass and poured the last bit in your cup, you were still drunk and definitely feeling it. you heard your phone buzz and you picked it up, answering the call, not paying attention, thinking it was dina but the voice surprised you.
hey sweetheart
you didn’t expect her to call so soon, you haven’t even given yourself a moment to think about what to say beforehand. you weren’t prepared for this. you feel yourself getting nervous over the girl you only met last week but you just cant help it. she’s been on your mind since you met her.
hi ellie
dina sent me your number i hope that’s okay
yes she said she was going to
well in that case, she said you needed to buy
yeah we managed to smoke up all her stash and i haven’t gotten any since i moved here, probably cause i didn’t know where to get it
well no worries, i’ve got everything you need sweetheart.
thank you ellie, you said smiling but she couldn’t see you through the phone, you wondered what she’d think if she saw how red your face was right now.
you can call me el sweetheart, no need to be so formal.
she laughed through the phone, and then asked if you were coming to the gym on friday with your brother and dina.
they invited me but i hadn’t thought about it yet, not wanting to sound too eager about the potential thought of seeing her on friday.
mhm- well you should, we’re just gonna have some drinks and chill so nothing crazy. but i will have the weed for you then if that peaks your interest.
bribing me with drugs?, you laugh into the phone and she laughs with you.
if that’s how you want to put it sweetheart, sure
you smiled into the phone, not even sure how to respond to that before becoming flustered, before you continued,
i guess we’ll just have to wait and see then…
yeah i guess we will… goodnight sweetheart.
that was the last thing she said before she hung up and you sat staring back at a black screen. thinking that now she has your number and you have hers.
it’s almost 11 now as you brush your teeth, throw on a t shirt and cuddle up in bed. falling asleep to the thoughts of how friday was going to go when you finally saw her again.
#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#the last of us#tlou series#ellie tlou#pedro pascal#tlou game#tlou2#ellie williams series#ellie williams fluff#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams fic#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader
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Ranch hand Choso who has only said very few words since your dad hired him on 4 months ago.
“Thank you, ma’am.” When you give him supper.
“No, ma’am.” When you offered to have his room moved into the main house during the winter.
“Not heavy at all.” He spoke when having to haul over 150lb alfalfa hay bales by hand
“That won’t be a problem. Take my hand and hop in.” When you told him you needed a ride to the bar for your weekly catchup with your girlfriends, so he prepped a towel on the seat and helped you into his truck.
When those few words became more after a drunken cowboy got too frisky for his liking.
“What the hell did you say to her you slop eating bitch?” When a man tried to grab you up at the bar, soon after punching him only once to send him flying across the room.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. That was reckless.” He apologizes, the ride back to the house quiet, unsettling for Choso but not for you.
“You’ve gotta make it up to me for causing such a scene back there. Whatdya say, Mr. Kamo?”
“A proper date, ma’am. To show you how much of a gentleman I really am. One you deserve.” He quietly smiles, taking his hat off as he stands at the front door of the main house. “But only if you feel that I’m deserving of that.”
“Tomorrow night. 5:30pm. I’ll be here on the porch waiting on you.” You bat your lashes and walk into the house, leaving Choso with only the sound of the cicadas cheering him on as he makes his way to his truck.
“I’ve gotta tell my brothers about this. My first ever date!” He cheeses, cheeks pink as he turns the key in his truck and makes his way down the dirt road.
@mysteria157 I reread the cowboy Nanami fic and my brain went nuts so thank you for the inspiration of whatever this is heheheheee 🙃🙃🙃
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Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Pt. 1

Hello hello! So, I'm fully insane about this man rn. I can't help it. The brain rot has taken over my life and here we are lol. I wanted to write something that really focuses on the domestic fluff side of Reader's life with William, of course there will be some smut thrown in there too because I simply can't help myself 😂😂 Reader and William have just bought their first house together. This story follows their week long escapade of unpacking, making their home perfect, and going down memory lane. Lots of super cute stuff, chapters containing smut will be updated with proper warnings. If you enjoy this story and would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MDNI, 18+ CONTENT AHEAD, smut marked with divider, age gap (reader in 30's William in 40's/50's), some swearing, face sitting, cockwarming, size kink, a singular (1) spank to readers ass, slightly dom! William, praise, Will just wants to give his wife some tender TLC after a long day of lugging boxes around (if I missed any please let me know!
You can find my Masterlist here!
Word Count: 3,538
Part 2
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“I want to paint the living room green, I think it would look nice with our couch.” William drove down the road, a soft smile on his face as he listened to you ramble on about all of your plans for their new house. Business at the pizzeria had skyrocketed, which meant that he could finally give his pretty little wife the front porch, white picket fence house of her dreams. You should be pulling in about a half hour before the moving truck is scheduled to arrive, allowing the two of you time to empty out his trunk. You stood at his side with a giddy smile on your face, William thumbing through his key ring to find the new shiny gold addition to his collection. He slides the key into the lock, chuckling at your excited squeals as he pushes the door open. He grabs you by the wrist, stopping you from running inside ahead of him.
“Isn’t there some old wives tale about carrying your wife over the threshold of a house?” He mumbles out the vague details he could remember. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck with a giggle.
“It’s for good luck. Why? Do you want to carry me inside?” You smile coyly up at him.
“Well I’m not going to be the one bringing bad luck into our house.” He proclaims proudly, jabbing a finger into his chest. You let out a shriek as he scoops you up in his strong arms. You press a kiss to his scruffy cheek as you pass through the door. “Well, Mrs. Afton, welcome home.” He smiles down at you.
You spun around the empty living room floor, broom in hand as you did a quick sweep before the furniture got brought in. “Oh, Will, I'm so happy. Our own house.” You beam up at him. Your husband breathes out a chuckle, sweeping you up in his arms as he places a kiss to your forehead. Both of your attention was drawn to the windows as the moving truck rumbled into the driveway.
“Don't lift anything too heavy.” He orders with a firm point of his finger. “I hired movers so you don't have to struggle, if I see you doing too much you're going to be in big trouble later bunny.” You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you place a kiss to his chest.
“I promise I won't work too hard.” You fidget with the hem of his shirt. “I just want everything to be perfect.” You sigh with a slight shrug of your shoulders.
“I promise it will be, we have the whole week to get everything exactly how you want it.” He smiles, his thumb rubbing languidly across your waist. You excitedly threw open the front door, directing the movers inside before clamoring out to the truck yourself. William trailed after you, keeping a close eye on your excited figure. Your husband loved how passionate you were about everything you did, but you also had a tendency to overwork yourself. He sighs as he sees you struggling with a box, gently taking it from your hands and propping it against his hip. He glances around the trailer. “Here.” He nudges a box with his foot, one he had made a subtle marking on to signify it was one he packed light enough for you to easily carry. “Take that one, we’ll go put these in the bedroom.” He hops down from the back of the truck, taking your box from you and wrapping his hands around your waist to lower you safely to the ground. You practically skipped up the porch steps, scooting past the movers as you raced up to the master bedroom. Your mattress sat in the middle of the room. The white, sheetless bed was a stark contrast to the nearly black hardwood.
“We’ll need to go get a bed frame.” You sigh, setting down the box before collapsing on the mattress. William groans as he lays down by your side.
“I’m sure we’re going to have to get a lot of things.” He chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him. “We’ll take care of everything, doll, don’t worry.” You spent the rest of the afternoon sliding furniture around downstairs while the movers brought in the rest of the boxes. The sun had already set by the time everything was brought in. You collapsed onto the couch with a tired groan, finally kicking your shoes off as you sank into the worn leather of the cushions. William sits beside you, lifting your feet only to drop them back in his lap. You let out a pleased hum as you feel his strong hands knead into your aching muscles. “Day one is officially over.” The two of you exchange a sleepy high five. A soft smile spreads across your lips as you take a moment to look at your husband. His gold, wire framed aviators sitting low on his nose, his large calloused hands massaging your feet with the utmost care and delicacy. You were William’s entire world.
“Honey,” he perks up at your soft voice, calling out to him, “how about I throw something together for dinner so we can get to bed.”
“I don’t think we have any groceries bunny.” He rebuttals with a chuckle. “Are you up for a drive? We could go pick up some pizza.”
“But it’s so cold.” You pout.
“I’ll go grab you one of my coats, sweet girl.” He cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you. You let out a soft hum as you buried your face into the soft fabric of your husband's coat, the comforting smell of his spicy, musky cologne, machine oil, and cigarettes filling your nose. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle into his side as he drove up twisting back roads. The radio crackled softly, whatever song was playing was barely audible over the car's loud blower. You rested your hand on his thigh, William glancing down quickly, the sight of your wedding ring glinting in the soft light bringing a smile to his lips. He loved the fact that you were all his, his pretty wife, his little bunny. He loved how sweet and delicate you were. He had been hardened by years of working in his workshop and other strenuous jobs he had throughout his life, he barely registered this evening was brisk let alone cold. But he definitely wouldn't complain about you cuddling into his side for warmth, how your cheeks and the tip of your nose dusted pink from the chilly night air, how your fingers trembled as you tucked them under his thigh. He shuddered softly as you pressed your lips to his neck, the buzzing, yellow light from the pizza shop's sign illuminating the cab as you and your husband exchanged a look filled with need.
“Hurry back.” You shoot him a coy smile as he stumbles from the car.
The smell of warm crust and greasy pepperoni filled the car, the pizza nicely heating your lap. William’s arm draped over your shoulder, you allowed the rumbling car ride to rock you into his side. Your eyelids grow heavy as you try to keep yourself awake, a sleepy smile crawling across your features as you pull into the driveway. You sighed as you looked around at the mess of moving boxes, your dining table tucked away into a corner that would be too much work to get to. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch doll, I’ll be right back.” William’s hand quickly slips into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as he passes by. You flop back into the cushions, letting the pizza box rest next to you. Even with the short amount of time you’ve spent in the house you could tell how different it was from your old apartment. You and William had moved to the middle of the woods in Hurricane, your nearest neighbor at least ten minutes down the road. There were no sounds of your neighbors talking quietly through the walls, no footsteps of the dog that lived upstairs. The house was completely silent, outside completely pitch black. You jumped as William’s feet started to thud down the stairs. He pushes into the living room with a groan, dragging your mattress behind him. He drops the bed in the middle of the floor with a dull thump, twisting side to side in order to stretch out his back. “I’ll go grab some pillows and blankets.” He smiles at you.
“It’s just like our honeymoon.” You laugh as he pulls you up from the couch. He tilts your chin up with his finger, capturing your lips with his.
“Oh, trust me,” he starts in a sultry tone, “I wish I could spend this entire week in bed with you.” You dropped down onto the mattress, a soft sigh falling from your lips as he massages your shoulders. You smile at him as you watch him disappear upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a box full of your bedding and some pillows. Deciding you weren’t up for the challenge you left the sheets in the box. You piled your comforter and a few throw blankets onto the bed, you crawled in before your husband joined you with the pizza. You two sit side by side, your head falling to rest against his shoulder.
“It’s no Freddy’s.” You grumble at your lackluster pizza. William chuckles in response to your pouting.
“How about we swing by and see Henry tomorrow, I’m sure I can sneak you a piece.” He winks with a lopsided grin.
“That sounds perfect.” The two of you chat quietly as you eat your dinner. Your new house feels too big for just the two of you. You laid on your back, staring at the exposed wood ceiling, you blinked a few times to adjust to the all consuming darkness after William had turned off the light. You felt the blankets shift as he crawled into bed next to you. His silhouette outlined by the soft, pale light of the moon that streamed through the window.
“We should get a dog.” He suddenly whispers, making you giggle. “I don’t want you to get scared all by yourself.” He teases.
“Maybe that’ll get you out of that workshop earlier.” He playfully rolls his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist.
“You know, there’s nothing stopping you from coming to visit me.” He argues with a slight shrug.
“Except that everytime I do I end up sprawled naked on your workbench.” You smirk at him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the soft material of his tshirt.
“Occupational hazard.” He responds quickly. You both laugh as you cuddle into his chest. He cards his fingers through your hair, his lingering gaze studying your features. “You’re so beautiful, bunny.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush over yours.
His hand paws at your thigh, dragging your leg over his waist as he crushes you against him. You cup his face, deepening the kiss, his beard tickling your palm as you melt into him. Your legs lock around his waist as he rolls on top of you. His large, calloused hands wrap around your sides, pushing your hoodie up and over your head in one swift motion before his lips connect with yours again. You shivered slightly as the cold night air hit your naked body. He practically purrs at the sight of you, his lips hovering over your neck. Your fingers slid into his hair, a small squeal escaping your lips as he bit down hard on your sensitive skin. You bite your lip, letting out a soft hum as he pushes his hips into you, his already growing bulge noticeable through your thin shorts. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off me today, could you rabbit?” He smirks against your skin. You practically drooled over the sight earlier. William had a box resting on each shoulder, his skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat. He paused as he caught sight of you leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest as your eyes raked over him. He smirked, knowing that playful glint in your eye. He smiled as he noticed your cheeks reddening from your position laying below him. He hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts, placing featherlike kisses down your stomach as he eases them down your legs. You moan softly as you feel him nip at the skin of the inside of your thighs. Your back arches off the bed as he brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit, a broken moan leaving your lips. With how busy you had both been due to the move it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate. Your skin was already on fire from the small touch alone, William smirked as he watched your reaction closely. Your hands fisted in the blankets as he tossed your legs over his shoulders, his hot breath bouncing off your already soaked core. His arms slip around your hips, holding you firmly in place as he dove into hungrily lap at your folds. You moan out his name, already attempting to squirm away from his assault. He growls, dragging you closer to him. His fingers dig into your thighs with a bruising force, sure to leave marks behind. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his tongue swirls around your clit through your lace panties. He ate you out like a man starved, your soft gasps and quiet moans echoing in the empty room. You whined, tugging on his hair. “What’s the matter bunny?” He pushes your panties out of the way with his fingers, his skin growing slick with your arousal.
“I need you.” You whined, looking down at him with pleading, teary eyes. William gives in immediately with a soft chuckle, never one to deny you what you wanted. He tugs down your panties, placing soft kisses to your legs as he removes your final article of clothing at an agonizingly slow pace. He slides an arm under your back, pulling you on top of him as he collapses into the mattress. Your hands landed on either side of his head as you lost your balance, you blushed as you realized you were sitting on his broad, strong chest. He brushes your hair behind your ear before both of his hands wrap around your thighs.
“Come sit, bunny.” He coos, your face burning at his casual command. William absolutely loved whenever you sat on his face. However, he was well aware he would have to warm you up to the idea whenever he suggested it. You were always worried you were too heavy, you hadn't shaved, or you hadn't showered, and your husband always reassured you that none of those things were going to pose any problems for him. His beard tickled the inside of your thighs as you hovered over his eager mouth. His hands squeezed at your hips, groaning as your soft skin squished between his fingers. You cry out as he pushes you down onto him, his tongue lapping at your clit before he shoves his way in between your folds.
“Oh, fuck! Will!” You moan, your hips moving on their own. You let out a soft sob everytime his nose bumps against your clit. He growls, pressing hard into your hips as you try to wiggle away, his assault on your already sensitive cunt threatening to push you over the edge mere minutes after he starts. “Baby, it's too much.” Your voice shook as you tried to plead with him, years slipping from your damp eyes onto your cheeks as the coil of pleasure in your core wound tighter. William’s eyes were hazy as they met yours, his face smothered in your thighs as he greedily sucked your clit into his mouth. You tug his hair, making you groan against him. “I'm gonna cum.” It was all too much for you to handle, your body losing its rhythm as your climax threatened to rip through you. William let out an affirmative hum below you, knowing you were close by the slowing of your movements. He decides it's time for him to take over, determined to make you cum on his tongue. His fingers dig into the curve of your ass as he gradually increases the pace of your hips. You yelped as one of his hands suddenly connects with your skin, the mixture of pleasure and slight pain causing your soaked cunt to throb. Broken moans and whines rumbled effortlessly from your mouth, the fine tuned roaming of his hands paired with his expert tongue knowing just how you wanted to be touched to fall apart in his hands. William never got tired of making you finish. The way you would fall absolutely silent and still for a moment, mouth hanging open as no sound dared escape, your body taking time to catch up to the immense pleasure you were feeling. Now was no different. William felt his cock twitch at the sight of your eyes rolling back in your head, that brief moment of absolute silence making his ears ring before you screamed his name. He forced your hips to keep moving, never allowing your pace to slow as he felt your thighs shaking against his cheeks. You practically collapsed as he finally pulled his mouth off of you, a firm hand on your lower back keeping you upright as you shakily moved yourself back onto his chest. William reaches up to caress your cheek, wiping away tears that streaked down your skin. Your eyes felt heavy, you struggled to keep them open and on your husband as you came down from your high.
“Do you want to lay down?” He asks in a soft tone. You nod, collapsing into the mattress with a happy sigh. You hear the soft shuffling of William getting undressed before he gets under the blankets with a groan. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved closer, his fingers ghosting over your waist before your pulled back against him. You can't help but giggle slightly as you feel his erection pressed firmly against your back.
“You want some help with that?” You press yourself into him, his breath catching in his throat at the contact as he tries to stifle a growl.
“You can't even keep your eyes open bunny.” He chuckles, you smile as you feel it rumble in his chest. You let out a dismissive sound, giving him a slight shrug. “How about we compromise?” You glance over your shoulder at him, curiously raising an eyebrow. Your eyes slide shut, letting out a soft hum as you feel his rough hands roaming over your skin. His fingers dip in between your thighs, gently coaxing them apart. You gasp as you feel his member prod at your entrance. “I could always fill you up before we go to bed.” He offers with a smirk, your face instantly flushing at the thought of cuddling up with your husband, trying not to squirm too much as he impaled you on his thick cock. You give him a nervous yet excited nod, the sight of you looking at him so sweetly as you chewed on your lip making it hard for him to not flip you over and pound you into the mattress. William assisted you holding your legs open, one massive paw wrapped around your thigh to allow him room to attempt to fit inside of you. You gripped tightly onto the sheets as he slowly began to push inside, the stretch from making it barely past his tip intense due to the lack of prep. “That's it sweetheart, just relax.” He purrs in your ear, pressing his lips to your shoulder. Another roll of his hips makes you whimper, feeling him slip slightly deeper into your fluttering cunt.
“Fuck, ‘s too big, ‘s not going to fit.” Your words slut as you tried to focus enough to speak. His pace was agonizing, you could feel every inch of him and every thick vein sliding over your velvety walls. You let out a shuddering breath as he finally bottoms out in you, the tip of his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. You felt like you would break in half at the smallest wrong move, even your slight shifting as you cuddled up with William had the edges of your vision going fuzzy.
“Such a good bunny, taking all of me so well.” His lips trail over your neck, you feel him smirk as you clench around him, repeatedly kissing and teasing what he knew was a rather sensitive spot of skin.
Your fingers intertwined with his, his strong arms wrapped protectively around as you're held flush to his chest.
“I love you.” You say quietly, feeling sleep trying it's hardest to pull you under. He gives your hand a soft squeeze.
“And I love you, sweet girl.”
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Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @loudchaosking (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)
#fnaf#fnaf movie#william afton#five nights at freddy's#fnaf movie spoilers#springtrap#steve raglan#william afton x reader#william afton smut#william afton imagines#william afton fnaf#fnaf william afton#william afton x yn#william afton x y/n#william afton x reader smut#william afton x you#fnaf steve raglan#steve raglan x reader#steve raglan x you#steve raglan smut#matthew lillard x reader#matthew lillard smut#matthew lillard imagine#fnaf x y/n#fnaf x you#fnaf x reader#mdni#skeleton writes
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moving in w joost fluff? eating takeaway pizza on the floor bc there isn’t a dinner table yet, unpacking old stuff from trips together, discussing where to hang paintings or how to furnish the place and that kind of stuff. just total domestic bliss. plzzzz I’m begging <33
Floor Pizza & Photo Albums
joost klein x reader
after finally moving in together, the two of you reminisce on how you two met and start planning your future.

word count: 1.3k
a/n: Im a total sucker for domestic shit i love this request so much. Also as someone who has moved at least once a year the past couple years i kinda need a chill moving party at some point aaaaaaaa
“ Do you want me to set the last box over here?” Joost gestures to a pile of boxes labelled KITCHEN and you nod. Setting is down, he takes a look at the work you two have left, dozens of boxes scattered around your guys new house. The two of you had planned to move in together after he asked you about a year prior. So after five years of dating, looking at too many places together, and waiting Joost to finish his tour, you guys finally found the right place to settle down.
“Thats the last box from the truck, right?” you asked, leaning up against the kitchen island.
“ya, i think so. this took longer than I thought honestly. we should have hired movers.” he laughed, wiping the sweat from his hands.
“yeah, and now we gotta unpack everything. and we can’t fully do that till all the furniture we ordered shows up.” you look to the barren kitchen and living room situation. “at least we got a mattress.” you add clicking your tongue in thought a few times before looking at him and smiling “ soo… Dinner?”
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This moment reminded you of your first apartment after college, but a little less lonely. The two of your sitting in a makeshift picnic in your soon to be living room, old blanket laid out to protect the hardwood from any crumbs from a bag of chips you grabbed. A box of pizza open and slowly being devoured with some beer to wash it down. a bit more relaxing than your first night at your last apartment. sitting on an air mattress, eating microwave ramen and rewatching a movie on your laptop. yeah, this time was a lot better.
“ That was not the first conversation we had i promise you.” you chuckled as the two of you reminisced on your guys past.
“ Yes it was! I met you at Alanis’s birthday! You complimented my tattoos and you were wearing that, that one thing.”
“that one thing.”
“yeah!”
“very specific.. and that wasn’t the first time we met.” you took a sip of your beer. “it was the week before actually.”
“No, I would’ve remembered you… wait, were you at the concert?” he asked, now more intrigued than ever. his head titled slightly in curiosity.
“I was. Alanis invited me.” you nodded.
“why don’t I remember you there?”
“because you got completely hammered the second the show was over. by the time she properly introduced us you were almost black out drunk.” You teased. He just winced.
“wow, im surprised you even agreed to a date if that was your first impression of me.”
“well I already had seen you at your worst, and you still looked pretty cute.” you smirked and leaned over to kiss him on his cheek before standing up and walking over to one of the boxes.
“Schatje, we can start unpacking tomorrow. Its late.”
“I know I know, Im looking for something.” You rummaged through one of the boxes with your name on it. After a second you found what you were looking for and pulled out a book before heading back over to a confused Joost, sitting back down on the floor next to him and leaning over so your shoulders touched. You handed the book to him and opened the cover up to reveal a photo album.
“I started a photo album after moving here.”
“I remember you used to bring those disposable little cameras everywhere. Thats why I bought you that polaroid.” you nodded and continued flipping through.
First few pictures were of your old apartment, the one you had just moved out of. The sad air mattress, a blurry mirror selfie, the old cafe you used to go to.
“after the first month I met Alanis. She saw me at the same cafe all the time and said I looked sad.” You pointed to the first picture of her you took at the cafe.
“Forever glad she befriended you by the way.” Joost murmured and kissed the side of your head. your face grew slightly red but you continued the small album tour.
“yeah, me too, moving to a new country was definitely overwhelming, but two months later,” you flipped through a couple more photos, your first day at work, a couple more outings with Alanis. “I met you, unofficially.” you joked. The top picture was him performing at his concert, He was shirtless and screaming some lyrics at the crowd. The picture below was of the two of you. He clearly was wasted, and had him arm around your neck. You were smiling, facing the camera, slightly buzzed, and the two of you were making the sign of the horns with your free hands. “you saw my camera and insisted we get a picture together.”
“How had i never seen these before? and Why am I barely learning of this now?” his hand touched the picture softly, like he was trying to absorb the memory of your first meeting.
“It was for like two minutes if that makes you feel any better. I had to leave immediately after. I just felt rude leaving without complimenting your performance. And I just never wanted to correct you when we were in public.” you reassured him, but he just kept gently brushing over the photos.
“can we frame it?” he asked. You shrugged your shoulders.
“if you want? I don’t wanna take it out but I can make a copy?” you replied, but joost had pulled the picture out and was stood up to walk to fireplace mantel and held the picture up. “be careful! your hands are greasy.” you followed him with the book to see what he was doing.
“It should go on this wall right here. in the center.” he imagined.
“we can, but its like, super tiny. shouldn’t we put something bigger over there? we can do like a collage maybe.” you saw the lightbulb go off in his head at the mention of a collage and you clutched the album in your arms tighter. “wash your hands first, then ill let you start pulling all the photos out.” he set the picture down so it rest on the mantel and stood back to admire the temporary decoration.
“Volmaakt.” (perfect)
“Well if my photos are going on the wall over here then,” you went to another box and pulled out a frame that had a funny portrait Joost had drawn of you on your fifth date. “I want this to go in the living room as well. we gotta have a whole art wall honestly.”
“I bet I could commision a painting from Daan to go above the couch.” he went and moved some boxes around to make the “couch” and another for a place holder coffee table and sat down on them. “ the tv can go over there. so you can hook up your game console.” he gestured in front of him then stood up again.
“maybe the book shelf can go somewhere on that wall?”
“hmm.” you stand next to him and stick your hands out in a frame shape and squint your eyes. “I can see it. You know what I think?” Your hands go back down and you look and him and grin.
“If we invite everyone over tomorrow they can unpack and move all the furniture for us.”
“They definitely will if we pay them in beer. Appie said he would bring my dogs over tomorrow anyway. I miss them.”
“me too, that's why the house feels so quiet.” you reply.
“well I can fix that.” joost goes pulls his laptop out of a bag and starts playing ABBA.
“The neighbors are going to hate us.” you laugh as he starts dancing and motions you to join in. “actually keep dancing I need to capture this.” you scrounge around in a bag of your for another little film camera and snap a quick picture of the floor pizza and Joost having his own mini dance party. satisfied with your documentation you go to join him, the two of you vibing to Gimmie Gimmie.
When the song ends you realize how tired you are so the two of you decide to retire for the night, and deal with the mess in the morning. Heading to the makeshift bed you had set up earlier with the queen sized mattress and a mountain of pillows, blankets, and stuffies. You simply let yourself collapse on the pile and Joost joins you, the exhaustion hitting you both. He feels his way through the blankets till he finds your arms and pulls you close to him so you guys can cuddle. In the morning you can deal with unpacking and furniture, but now you two can be next to each other, in the same bed, officially.

#joost klein#joost klein x reader#joost fanfic#rpf#joost klein fanfic#joost klein x you#eurovision#domestic shit#writing requests
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Tough Like The Scuff On A Pair Of Old Leather Boots

Country Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Your bratty attitude is intolerable…
Warnings: None!
Title is from ‘Tough’ by Lana Del Rey and Quavo
Summer vacation never meant beaches and bikinis. It meant sweat, hard labor, and cow manure. Every year, you were shipped off to your grandparent's farm to ‘help out’. The labor got more intensive as they aged, and this year you came to find that they had hired a new farm hand. He was around your age, with suntanned skin and dark hair, and could barely conceal his disdain for you.
The midday sun beat down as Luke loaded hay bales into a rusted Chevy. You were supposed to help, but it was much more fun to watch him work. Occasionally he would wipe his face with the hem of his shirt and it was like a reward for withstanding the withering sun.
Unfortunately for him, there were a dozen bales left. He let out a low groan as he leaned against the tailgate. “You gon’ help, princess?”
You looked up from your perfectly manicured nails and shook your head. Sure, your sweet old granny had asked you to help out the poor boy, but it was too risky. “I don’t want to break a nail”
Luke rolled his eyes so hard that you swore he could’ve seen his brain. He stalked over, his scuffed boots stirring up dust and grabbed the bale that you had been sitting on. “Tough.”
You couldn’t be mad, not when you had just gotten the perfect view of his muscular arms and inhaled his musky scent. Reluctantly you picked up a scratchy bale and carried it over to the truck. The straws clung to your tank top but that was the last thing on your mind when he congratulated you with a rough “Good girl.”
#percy jackson and the olympians#percy jackson#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#southern#country boy#country luke castellan#lana del rey#quavo#lacy’s literature
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haiii I like your works sm, hope you'll like my request!!
James in his BL cowboy era works on ranch of reader's dad(reader is much younger than James). Reader and him fell in love with each other, while her dad is not good with it and prevents Reader from interacting with James. One night, James steals the reader away from home and they spend a passionate but tender first night together in his little ranch house, where Het takes her virginity and then tenderly takes care of her after making love... ahh I can't stop thinking about how hot cowboy James is😞
love ya!!
God, I love cowboy James, I hope you like it❤ Love ya too!
Warnings: Soft smut, age gap, loss of virginity
The cowboy and the rose
The summer air was thick with the scent of hay and wildflowers, a lazy breeze carrying the hum of cicadas across the ranch. I sat on the porch swing, the wooden slats creaking beneath me, as I watched James work in the fading light. There was something magnetic about the way he moved, his sun-kissed skin glistening under the weight of hard labor. My father had hired him months ago, but from the moment James set foot on our land, I knew he was trouble—the kind of trouble that pulled at me in ways I couldn’t explain.
James wasn’t like the other ranch hands. There was an air about him, a quiet confidence, the hint of a smirk beneath his dusty cowboy hat. He’d catch my eye now and then, his gaze lingering just long enough to make my heart race. It wasn’t long before my father noticed the way I looked at him—and the way James looked at me.
“You stay away from that man, Y/N,” my father had warned one evening, his voice firm as we sat around the dinner table. “He’s not good for you. Too old, too wild. He’ll bring nothing but heartache.”
I didn’t argue. There was no point when my father had made up his mind, but his words only fueled the fire inside me. James wasn’t reckless; he was kind. He’d stop to help mend a fence or comfort a scared horse, his touch gentle despite the strength in his hands. And when he looked at me, I felt seen—not as the rancher’s daughter, but as a woman.
We’d stolen moments where we could. A whispered conversation in the barn, our hands brushing as we worked side by side. Once, late at night, I’d snuck out to meet him by the river. He’d pulled me close under the stars, his arms wrapped around me as if to shield me from the world.
But my father’s disapproval loomed over us like a storm cloud. He’d started keeping a closer eye on me, his sharp gaze following me wherever I went.
That night, everything changed.
I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of my father’s rules pressing down on me. Then I heard it—the soft tap of pebbles against my window. My heart leapt as I peered outside. There he was, James, standing in the moonlight, his truck parked at the edge of the property.
“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely carrying through the night. “Come with me.”
I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my boots and slipped out the window, my heart pounding as I crept across the yard. When I reached him, he took my hand, his grip firm but warm.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.
He looked at me, his dark eyes steady. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
We drove to his small ranch house on the edge of town, the truck rumbling through the quiet night. When we arrived, he helped me out of the cab, his hand lingering on my waist. The house was modest, but it felt like a sanctuary. Inside, the scent of leather and cedar enveloped me, the warm glow of lamplight casting shadows on the walls.
James turned to me, his expression serious. “I know this is a lot,” he said, his voice soft. “If you want to go back, I’ll take you. But if you stay… I need you to know how much you mean to me.”
My breath caught in my throat as I stepped closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His lips met mine, the kiss slow and tender, as if he was savoring every moment. He led me to his bedroom, the simplicity of the space reflecting the man himself. There, in the quiet of the night, we came together for the first time.
James kissed me deeply, his hands cupping my face as he murmured against my lips, “You’re so beautiful.” The words sent a warmth through me, making my skin tingle. His touch moved down my arms, his fingers grazing my skin like a whisper, until they settled on my waist, holding me close.
He unbuttoned my blouse with care, his eyes meeting mine with each undone button. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice steady but filled with need. I shook my head, my breath catching as I helped him shrug off his shirt. His chest was firm and warm, and I let my hands explore the planes of his skin, marveling at how strong yet gentle he was.
When I shivered, he wrapped his arms around me, his lips brushing along my temple. “Cold?” he asked.
“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Just nervous. This is my first time.”
James’s expression softened, his hand coming up to gently cup my cheek. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I’ll take care of you, I promise. We’ll go slow, okay?”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I nodded, trusting him completely. “Okay.”
He laid me down on the bed, his movements deliberate and tender. His lips followed the curve of my neck, tracing a line to my collarbone as his hands mapped every inch of my body. I gasped when his touch became more insistent, his kisses trailing lower.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low but gentle.
“Yes,” I breathed, my hands tangling in his hair. “Please.”
His touch became more purposeful, his hands and lips exploring me with a reverence that made me feel cherished. As he finally joined us together, he moved with a slowness that showed his care for me, pausing just enough to let me adjust, whispering softly, ""Are you okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, moving with a slowness that showed his care for me.
He paused to let me adjust, brushing a soft kiss against my lips, his hand gently cradling my face. "How do you feel?" he asked, his voice a soothing murmur that wrapped around me like a warm embrace.
I hesitated, my words catching in my throat as I tried to make sense of the unfamiliar sensations. "I don’t know," I admitted softly. "It’s strange… but it feels right, being with you."
“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my nerves. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
I nodded, my breath trembling as he began to ease into me. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of discomfort and an unfamiliar fullness. Sensing my tension, he stilled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered, his thumb stroking my cheek. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
I exhaled shakily, relaxing under his tender encouragement. Slowly, he moved again, giving me a moment to adjust to every inch. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a low rumble of concern and love.
“Yes,” I whispered, my hands gripping his shoulders for support. “Don’t stop.”
He pressed another kiss to my lips, his movements careful and unhurried. As the discomfort faded, a new kind of warmth spread through me, and I found myself meeting his rhythm. His whispered words of praise and love grounded me, each one like a lifeline.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “So perfect.”
I clung to him, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. “I’m yours, James,” I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks.
He moved with a mixture of passion and tenderness, as if every touch and motion were a declaration of his feelings. The room was filled with soft gasps and murmured words, the world beyond the walls fading away entirely.
When we reached our peak together, I felt as though the stars themselves had fallen into the room. James collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms, our breaths mingling as we lay entangled.
Afterward, he cleaned me with a warm towel, his movements unhurried and soothing. “Does that feel alright?” he asked, his voice still husky but tender.
“It’s perfect,” I replied, watching the way his brow furrowed with concentration as he cared for me.
He climbed back into bed, wrapping the blanket around us and holding me close. “Come here,” he murmured, kissing my forehead. “I’ve got you.”
I rested my head against his chest, his heartbeat a steady reminder of everything we’d just shared. “I love you, James,” I said softly, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
He tipped my chin up, his lips brushing mine in a featherlight kiss. “I love you too, Y/N. More than anything.”
We lay there, the weight of the night sinking into us, but instead of fear, I felt a profound sense of belonging. For the first time, I understood what it meant to be truly seen, truly loved, and I knew I’d never let it go.
#metallica#metallica oneshot#metallica fanfiction#metallica fluff#jameshetfield#jameshetfieldxreader#james hetfield one shot#james hetfield fluff#metallica x you#metallica smut#soft smut#james hetfield smut#reqs open#nausicaamusiclover20
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