#no phone tag with the towing company | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soullumii · 1 year

Text

stranded | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: you get stranded in the middle of a blizzard. joel comes to your rescue. you share a bed for warmth. things escalate from there...

warnings/tags: 18+ content, MDNI!, smutttttt yurrrr (vaginal fingering, unprotected piv sex, dubious consent, lil bit of somnophilia, joel is packinggg), no outbreak!joel, modern au, implied age gap, soft!joel, pet names (peach, baby, darlin', sweet girl, sweetheart), lil bit of joel being jelly, cuddling to keep the cold at bay, fluff, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 7.6k (idk what the fuck happened)

“Damn it!”

You press down hard on the gas pedal, grimacing when your engine revs but the car doesn’t move an inch.

Your tires skid uselessly over the snow and your headlights reflect into a white wall of nothing—the snowfall so thick you can’t see anything in front of or around you, as if you’re trapped in a snow globe. The road is practically gone from existence.

The only thing you can hear is the wind whistling and the staticky sound of Carrie Underwood’s ‘Jesus Take the Wheel’ going in and out on the radio.

Yeah, you wish he would right about now.

“Fuuuck,” you whine, eyes stinging with unshed tears. You hit your wheel in frustration, dropping your forehead onto the horn. It honks pityingly.

Of course, the one time you were actually going out, you had forgotten to check the weather.

You’re probably going to die out here on this back road through the woods. There’s no one around, not that you can tell, and you’re low on gas. You were going to fill up once you got out of the woods and back into civilization, but the blizzard had other plans.

Your stomach rumbles, crying out for the dinner you had skipped in hopes of having a hearty, post-sex meal with the hook-up you are—or were—on the way to see. Though, that’s certainly not happening, and the snacks you usually had stuffed into the glovebox are gone, your sister having stolen them last week after you dropped her off at school.

(Darn that growing goober!)

You don’t have anything that might prove useful in this situation besides the long, slim heels on your pumps (which could be used in defense), and the thin peacoat wrapped around your shoulders. You check your phone to see if you can call a towing company, but of course, it has zero bars.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper, pressing the heel of your palm to your watering eyes.

“It’s gonna be fine,” you say to yourself, picking your head up and rubbing away the tears in your eyes. You take deep breaths and put the car into park. “You’ll be fine.”

The sudden sound of a knock on your window startles you so bad you yelp, jumping in place as ice cold terror rises up your spine.

You can hardly see who had knocked, only their gray silhouette in the white blizzard.

The stranger knocks again.

“You alright in there?” The shadow asks, a hint of a Texan accent curling their vowels. Shit. It’s a man.

You slowly grab your shoe from your foot, holding it so the heel faces the window, and snow blows into your face as you carefully roll it down an inch or two for precaution, because who knows if it’s a fucking cannibal-axe-murderer who preys on unsuspecting women stranded in the snow. Maybe he does this every year—maybe this is his prime harvesting place and time.

Your eyes are wide as you peer through the opening warily, heel at the ready.

He’s close enough now that you can make out a prominent scowl, hard brown eyes, salt and pepper hair…

…wait a minute. You’d recognize that glower anywhere.

“Joel?”

Your lungs suddenly remember how to work again, and you inhale on a shaky breath. The hand holding your shoe drops to your thigh in relief.

His brown eyes narrow. “Peach…? The hell are you doin’ out here?” He asks, and Jesus you forgot about that stupid nickname he gave you. It sends butterflies loose in your stomach. “It’s a goddamn blizzard.”

You scowl in exasperation, though, at his obvious observation. “Yeah, I think I know that, Joel. What are you doing here?”

“I heard a honk, figured someone needed help.” He looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on the circles of mascara around your eyes. “Guess I’m right.”

You straighten in your seat, the gratitude you feel at his presence is overshadowed by the need to look self sufficient and capable, because you are. You’re a grown ass woman! So…

“I don’t need your help,” you huff.

He arches a brow. “Really.” It’s not a question.

You glower. “Maybe.”

Joel leans an arm on the frame of your car, and taps your window once more. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

God, this is so embarrassing!

“Fine.” You roll up the window and turn off the car. Joel tugs the car door open as far as it can go and offers a gloved hand to help you out. You wobble a bit when you step out in your heels, grateful that Joel is there to steady you. Though, the feeling sours a bit when he huffs in disbelief at your shoes.

You send him a glare, “I had plans for tonight, okay?”

“In the middle of a blizzard?” He deadpans.

“It wasn’t that bad when I first started driving.”

“Riiiight,” he drawls, “Well, I’m sorry to say, peach, but you ain’t driving in this mess anymore. You can stay with me tonight.” He says, closing the car door behind you.

Stay? With him?

“Joel, I couldn’t bother you with—“

“I wouldn’t offer if it was a bother.”

Joel’s as stubborn as a bull, more so than Ellie. And she is stubborn. You don’t argue, because it’s fruitless to argue with a brick wall like him. And, faced with freezing to death out here or staying in a well-insulated building, choosing the latter is obviously the right thing to do.

“Okay,” you relent and point to your trunk. “I have a bag back there.”

He raises a brow. “Heels and a bag…What kind of plans were we talkin’ about here?”

A hook up, Joel, you mentally drawl. Because…that’s exactly why you were out.

Like hell you’ll tell Joel that, though, he’d disapprove. He’s always been the protective type. You’ve known him since your junior year in college, after your families practically merged. But you’ve never seen Joel as another dad. He’s always been…something else to you.

“A trip to Nunya.” You supply instead of the truth, crossing your arms over your chest to try and conserve some heat.

“Nunya?” Joel’s brows furrow.

“Yeah. Nunya business, Joel.” You give him a sardonic smile.

He shakes his head and sends you a look you’re quite familiar with, the one that makes you feel inches smaller. And ten degrees hotter.

Joel sighs in exasperation and wordlessly wrenches the trunk open. He slings your bag over his shoulder as if it weighs nothing.

(It weighs a lot. You’d know, you shoved five different erotica books in there, just in case your date failed to make you orgasm.)

(Though thinking about Joel probably would’ve been enough.)

You lock your vehicle with a bemused glance. “What are we gonna do about my car?”

“I’ll tow it out tomorrow,” Joel says. “Roads are a fuckin’ mess right now.”

You trudge behind Joel to his quaint cottage sleeping cozily between tall pine trees and chubby evergreens. The porch light is on, and the windows glow a comforting orange. Puffs of smoke drift up from the chimney. It looks warm and inviting, like straight out of a Christmas movie.

You’re impressed at how close you managed to strand yourself to his house. Maybe Jesus really did take the wheel.

Joel kicks the snow off his boots on his front porch, then opens the door, gesturing for you to enter first.

When you breach the doorway with Joel at your heels, warmth settles over your cold-bitten cheeks along with an alluring aroma of meat and tomato and spices that hits you in a wave. You’ve never seen Joel cook anything other than Chef Boyardee Beefaroni, or burgers on Tommy’s rusting grill before, so this is certainly a surprise. It could be Sarah or Ellie’s cooking, but last time you checked, Sarah could cook eggs and Ellie could cook, well, nothing.

“So did you hire a personal chef to make whatever smells so good?”

He sets your bag down in the foyer with a grunt and shrugs out of his coat. “I made it.”

You can’t help the disbelieving laugh that bursts out of you, and the slightly offended look on Joel’s face only makes it harder to stop. You cover your mouth with your hand, but you’re absolutely positive he can see the mirth lighting in your eyes.

Though he’s offended, there’s a twitch to his lip, as if he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m perfectly capable of cooking.”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” you try to stamp down your giggles. “Yes, you’re capable but… is it edible?”

Your stomach decides in that moment to start rumbling, and he smirks.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

You take your coat off and follow Joel towards the kitchen. As you follow, you take in his aggressively Texan decor and furniture. Paintings of cowboys and horses and mountains are hung artfully on cozy, beige walls. The Eagles’ discography drifts merrily in the air from an old record player. There’s a guitar stationed in practically every corner. It’s all so very Joel, though the random space ornamentals and butterfly drawings sprinkled about are so very Ellie and Sarah. It makes you smile.

“Where are the girls?” You ask, because usually those little stinkers would be stationed at the dining room table, bickering over the answer to a ridiculously difficult math problem.

“At Dina’s,” he answers, taking off his gloves and dropping them on the table. “They wanted to play in the snow.”

Oh. So you’re here alone with him. Anxiety prickles at the edges of your mind, sinking in your stomach.

“I guess I was the only one that didn’t know about the blizzard, then.”

“You must be livin’ under a rock to not know about it.”

You grumble in protest, but your grievances disintegrate on your tongue as you enter the kitchen and near the simmering pot. You breathe in the aroma, the smell so powerful it's almost like you’re actually tasting it.

You look over your shoulder at him. “Is this chili?”

He nods. “Want some?”

“Absolutely.”

He comes up beside you to open a cabinet. “Go ‘head make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll bring it out to you.” Your mouth dries at the sliver of skin that peeks out beneath his flannel as he reaches up.

You force yourself to turn around. “Wow. Such a gentleman, didn’t realize you were capable,” you say, your saccharine sweet tone doing well to mask how flustered you feel. You can breathe easier the second you exit the kitchen and enter the living room.

His voice follows you. “A simple ‘thank you’ ‘stead'a this attitude would do you some good, y'know?"

"I know," you sing-song, grinning as you settle yourself down onto his couch, grabbing a blanket from a basket on the way. A fire crackles in the hearth and you study the flames with fascination as warmth spreads across your skin. You tug the blanket around you, pulling it up to your chin.

Joel emerges a minute later and your gaze darts from the fire to the bowl he holds out to you. “Here.”

“Thank you, Joel,” you say emphatically, accepting the bowl and cradling it in your hands.

He smiles, “There we go. Guess you do have some manners.”

You give him a half-bow. Joel just smiles in that familiar way, like you’re just so ridiculous he can’t believe it. It makes your stomach curl giddily.

Having rolled up the sleeves of his flannel to his elbows, Joel’s forearms are on display, muscles flexing as he tosses another log into the hearth, and you drop your gaze to your chili, as to not get caught staring. He sits down in the armchair adjacent to you with his own bowl.

You blow on the steaming chili before taking a bite, an involuntary moan releasing from you the moment it hits your tongue—paprika, peppers, tomato, cumin. It warms your stomach pleasantly. Who knew Joel could cook so well?

“This is so good,” you mumble around your bite.

He swallows his own chili down, pupils large as he watches you. “Edible enough for ya?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“Mmhmm,” he hums, unconvinced, but he’s smiling at you again, and you can’t help but return it.

Comfortable silence lapses between the both of you as you eat your meals. Joel finishes first, of course, setting his bowl on the coffee table and leaning into his chair with a satisfied groan. He throws an arm over the back, spreading his legs. You watch him while he watches the fire, heat licking through you.

Eventually, after you slow down, you speak again.

“Thank you, Joel, seriously, for letting me stay.”

His eyes find yours and he nods. “‘Course, peach. Wouldn’t’ve let you freeze out there.”

You nod and glance around, taking in his cabin. A large, stone fireplace is set in the wall, a tree trunk coffee table stationed in the center of the living room, some handmade wood carvings of horses and other animals scattered about. There’s a drawing of himself sitting on the mantel, “To: Joel, From: Ellie” signed at the bottom. Your heart swells.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been here,” you remark.

“I know,” Joel says. “You should come around more often. The girls miss you.”

Your smile turns shy and you feel a spike of bravery. “What about you? Do you miss me?”

He takes a moment to answer, a veiny hand coming up to rub at his beard as he leans on the arm of the chair. Onyx eyes drag down your figure. “‘Course I do, darlin’”

Heat pools hot and thick between your thighs at that look, and you’re about to press him about how much he really misses you when a buzzing in your pocket captures your attention. Your phone. Guess you have some bars now.

marcus: where r u?

Oh right, the hookup!

you: blizzard blocked the roads. won’t make it tonight.

marcus: ok.

You scoff at the lack of depth in his response. Not even a “stay safe out there”? Jesus. You settle into the couch with a frustrated sigh, head thumping against the cushions, eyes falling shut as exhaustion creeps into you.

Boys always thinking with their dicks. Why do you even bother?

“What’s that about?” Joel asks. You peek an eye open at him. Firelight dances across his tan skin. He gestures to your phone. “That gotta do with the real reason for your trip tonight?”

You rub your temple, “Yeah.”

He hums. "...Listen, I know it's none of my business but—“

"It was a hookup, Joel," you interrupt, already knowing where he was going with that. He tends to do that, beat around the bush so much until you’re desperate to just say it. More desperate than he was to know it. You’d rather just skip that whole process.

"Oh,” his brows furrow.

"Yeah," you repeat dumbly, fiddling with the blanket.

"There, uh, ain't no shame in that, darlin'."

You quirk a skeptical brow, "I know."

"Alright," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact with you. Awkwardness settles between you.

"Things are just a bit dry," you supply, though you have no idea why you're still talking, or why you described yourself and the state of your love-life like that because Joel doesn't need to know that. Nobody needs to know that

But it captures his attention, because he's looking at you again, though this time annoyance is written on his features, along with something else you can’t name, his eyes practically black. Damnit, you knew he’d disapprove, even if he claims there’s no shame in it.

“And you went to some random boy for that?"

You straighten on the couch. "Who else am I supposed to go to, Joel? You?” Sarcasm drips from your words.

What the hell is he implying?

His gaze jumps to the fire, the muscles in his jaw clenching, his fingers flexing on the arm of his chair. "Never mind I said anythin'."

Your arms cross defensively over your chest. "I don't need your judgment, Joel.”

"I ain't judgin'."

"Sure sounds like it."

He stands abruptly, running a hand through his peppered locks. "I'm not, I just—listen, it's gettin' late. You should sleep. I didn’t have time to get the girls’ room ready, do you want my bed?”

You shake your head, "Couch is perfectly fine, Joel. Thanks."

“You sure?”

“Yes, Joel. I’m a grown woman who can handle her decisions.”

"I know that.” Frustration laces his words. He sighs, hand coming up to rest on his belt. “Just... let me know if you need anythin'."

“You got it.”

He turns the living room light off on the way to his bedroom down the hall. You don’t watch him leave.

Once he's gone, you change into your pajamas and settle yourself on the couch beneath a blanket or two. The crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside lulls you to sleep faster than you expect.

-----

“Fuck.”

The aggressive shivers that wrack your body are what wake you up in the middle of the night.

Your blanket is wrapped tightly around you, but it’s a thin, furry thing. Nothing like the down comforter you have at home. The fire has also gone out in the hearth, low flames flickering in the ash.

You pull the blanket up to your chin, curling in on yourself as the cold permeates your skin.

Aside from the chattering of your teeth and the squall outside, it’s eerily silent in the house. You realize, now, that the whooshes from the heating system you had grown accustomed to before are gone

Shit.

You reach for the lamp on the side table, pulling down on the chain. It doesn’t turn on.

“Shit.”

You sit up, blanket wrapped around your waist. The power is out. The snow storm must’ve knocked out a power line. It’s too cold to stay out here with only your thin blanket and the clothes on your back. And Joel had said…

Let me know if you need anythin’.

You really don’t want to bother him, but the goose flesh rippling across your skin and the pathetic way your lips are quivering, along with the shudders that wrack your body as it attempts to maintain homeostasis are not something you can just sleep through.

You tightly wrap your blanket around your shoulders and tiptoe down the hall. You can see a warm light from Joel’s bedroom, the flicker of a flame on the cream walls.

You slowly push the door open but hesitate at the sight of Joel buried comfortably beneath his comforter. You don’t want to wake him… but his room is awfully toasty from the fire crackling away in his own hearth. And his bed looks absolutely heavenly.

You steel yourself and pad to the side he sleeps on.

“Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t respond.

You lean over to gently push his shoulder. “Joel.”

“Mm—“ His brows furrow, and he scrunches further into the blankets, reminiscent of a cat curling its paws over its head when woken up.

You push his shoulder again, a bit harder this time. “Joel. Wake up.”

He swats at the air, as if your hand is a fly buzzing around his ear. “‘M awake,” he mumbles against the pillow.

“Joel—the power went out. I’m freezing.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes still shut. He’s no doubt rolling the words around in his head, trying to make sense of them through a sleepy haze.

Then, when he does, he wordlessly scoots back and reaches for the comforter. He lifts it, offering the space next to him to you.

“C’mere.”

You splutter, taken off guard by the invitation. “What? Joel—“

“‘M not askin’, peach. C’mere.” The last word leaves his lips like a command, and you straighten reflexively, apprehension holding your limbs hostage as want curls dangerously low in your abdomen at his tone of voice. That should be enough warning to not climb into bed with him.

You debate telling him to get his ass up and give you another blanket along with a couple more logs in the hearth so you can avoid any kind of proximity between you (lest you feel those capital-f Feelings), but you can practically feel the heat radiating from the bed and his body beckoning you in.

Oh fuck it.

You let loose a shaky breath and hesitantly slip beneath the covers, facing away from him. You stay glued to the edge of the bed, careful not to let any part of you touch him. Your legs curl into your chest for extra measure. Immediately, it’s so much better. So warm. So comfortable.

And it smells like Joel.

You inhale the earthy and spicy scent of him that lingers on the linen as your head sinks into the soft pillow, but your inhale chokes off as Joel’s strong arm snakes around your waist beneath the comforter, his large hand burning like a brand when it settles hot over your stomach.

He pulls you into him, the sheets swishing as he tucks you into his body. Your back slots against his warm, broad naked chest. His bare legs intertwine with yours, his pelvis almost flush against your ass, only covered by a thin pair of briefs.

Holy shit.

You can feel everything.

“Joel?” You question, voice quivering at the sudden closeness. “What are you doing?”

“Keepin’ you warm,” he mumbles against the nape of your neck.

You do feel warmer, though it might not be entirely because he’s holding you, but rather because of how he’s holding you. He’s curled around you, like a koala around a tree, thighs bracketing yours.

You can feel his beard scraping at the nape of your neck, breaths puffing against your feverish skin.

His thumb is rubbing softly along the pudge of your tummy, palm branding your skin, his fingers dipping innocently beneath the hem of your shorts.

You can barely breathe, or even think, heartbeat stuttering as arousal pools liquid hot and heavy between your legs. Every unknowing twitch from Joel’s fingers makes it worse. Every touch of his calloused fingertips against your skin is pure agony. Every brush of your ass against his pelvis has you throbbing. You stare wide-eyed into the darkness, gaze roaming the pitch black, as if something out there could make you forget about the ever-growing desire you feel for Joel.

You can’t sleep like this.

It seems like Joel can though, appearing to already be deep in slumber. He hasn’t moved in a few minutes, his exhales even and slow against you.

You try to ignore the wetness between your legs, ignore the instinctual urge to roll your hips back against him. You should just go to sleep. But this ache you feel, pounding and deep and relentless…You have to do something about it, even with Joel holding you close.

He won’t mind…right?

But how are you supposed to touch yourself with Joel’s hand in the way?

You could just move it. That’s the right thing to do, but it feels too good, so hot and heavy on you that you just don’t want to, and as a result, an idea so absolutely fucked worms its way into your mind, lust and desperation destroying any last semblance of rational thought. You could…

No. No. You can’t do that. He’s a human fucking being, not a hand shaped vibrator.

But… you really want to, and he’s asleep so…he won’t even know…right?

You make up your mind and slowly curl your fingers around Joel’s deadweight palm, biting your lip in concentration and shame as you carefully urge his hand further into your shorts. After each nudge of his palm, you wait to see if Joel gives you any sign of him being awake. But he’s dead asleep. After a moment, you keep going.

This is so fucked, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you finally feel his thick fingers brush over your clothed folds.

“Shit,” you whisper, breathlessly, holding back a whimper. You manipulate his hand so that his palm is resting large and warm over your aching clit, while his index and middle finger are placed heavily above your heat.

And then, you really say fuck you to your morals.

You give an experimental thrust of your hips into his palm, shuddering at the contact against your clit. Then you wait to see if Joel reacts, your head tilting a bit to look over your shoulder. But Joel hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a word. Good.

Confident he won’t wake, you rock your hips again and again, holding onto his hand with your own, pressing it down with each thrust of your hips to get that sweet contact. The heel of his palm bumps your aching clit with each thrust, and you bite back moans and whimpers well enough, but you can’t hide the deepening of your breaths as you climb closer and closer to your climax.

Everything else fades away as you just focus on that one goal. On crawling over the edge. You hardly feel the growing smirk pressed to the back of your neck, or the way Joel’s cock is now hard against your ass as you grind against his palm.

“F-fuck,” you huff, eyes tightly shut as you ground yourself in his presence behind you, the beat of his heart thudding against your spine, the rise and fall of his chest, the light, unconscious brush of his lips on your neck. Closure is on the horizon as you imagine him lifting up on his arm and leaning over to actually get you off, his teeth biting down on your shoulder as he thrusts his fingers into your aching cunt.

“Joel—“ you quietly moan.

The moment his name slips from your lips, his hand suddenly pulls back, and you let out a frustrated groan (he can’t do that!), which quickly turns into a squeak of mortification (oh yes, he absolutely can!).

Because Joel is awake.

He. Is. Awake.

And he knows what you were doing, his chest rumbling against your spine as he—is he fucking laughing at you?

“Needy girl, aren’t you, peach?”

Mortification ignites in your cheeks, nausea pooling in your stomach. “Joel, oh my god, I’m so sorry—“

His hand gravitates to your thigh, curling around it. He pulls it up, inserting his knee in between your legs and he griiiinds it into your clothed cunt. Your desperate apology is cut off by a reflexive wanton moan, your back arching as pleasure reverberates inside you.

“‘S okay, baby, I understand. So fuckin’ desperate you had to use me while I was sleepin’, huh? Didn’t get what you wanted earlier so now you’re searchin’ for somethin’ else, hm?”

His large hand finds your waist again, sliding down your stomach to inch beneath both your shorts and your panties now. You gasp as his fingertips find your clit easily.

“I’m just a ‘lil offended I wasn’t your first choice,” he chides, fingers slipping through your soaking folds. “But I like this much better than you findin’ some boy to get you off. You need’a be fucked by a man, darlin’. Ain’t that right?”

His words send heat straight to your core, thighs clenching around his knee as he ruts it against you while simultaneously stimulating your clit with his fingers.

“Yes, Joel,” you moan. “Need you.”

His teeth scrape against your throat when he growls, “Goddamn right you do.”

You can’t believe this is happening.

Joel slides his hand further into your panties, his middle finger curling in to sink into your soaked cunt. You choke on a gasp.

“Who’s the guy?” He asks, randomly, while his finger rocks into you.

You can’t think as Joel inserts his ring finger alongside the other, stretching you so deliciously. “W-what?”

“The boy you were gonna see tonight. Who is he?”

Who was it? Mark? Matt? And why does he care? You don’t know, you don’t care, only thoughts of Joel Joel Joel consume your waking being.

“I—I don’t know, Joel. Please, oh my god.”

He hums pityingly. “Poor thing can't even remember his name.” His other hand comes up to slide through your hair, gripping the locks at the nape of your neck. He tugs, and you melt. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget mine.”

He doesn’t need to worry about that.

Joel moves his thumb to circle your clit as he thrusts his thick, long fingers up and into you, curling them to hit that spot that has your heartbeat dropping between your thighs, desperate and loud and begging for release.

“Hhhoh— Joel!”

“Tha’s right, baby. So goddamn wet. You’ve been dealin’ with this for awhile now, huh?”

You nod into the pillow on a broken moan as his fingers withdraw and sink into you at a steady pace, his thumb circling and circling and circling.

“Words, baby.”

You cry out, hands gripping the pillow. “Yes, yes. Joel. Been wanting this f’so long.”

“Should’a come to me first. Would’a helped you out a long time ago,” he drawls.

Yes you absolutely should have, based on how quickly you’re approaching your orgasm.

Your cries are so loud, but you don’t care, focusing only on your pleasure and the feel of Joel’s mouth on your throat.

You’re finally getting what you want. And fuck, is it amazing.

Your eyes roll back as it all builds up inside you, Joel’s hand unrelenting as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re scorching, everything hot and intense, your stomach tightening, your legs stretching out as the pleasure builds and builds.

Fuck, you’re gonna cum—

It rips through you violently, eyes prickling with tears, your thighs clenching as your walls bare down repeatedly around Joel’s fingers, making him groan.

“Good girl,” Joel murmurs, hand eventually inching out of you and your shorts to squeeze your thigh appreciatively as aftershocks run through you, thighs quaking and clit throbbing. “That’s what you needed, huh? S’it feel good, cummin’ all over my fingers?”

His fucking voice!

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, sinking into the sheets, eyes drooping shut as pleasure lulls you to sleep.

He tsks, “Wake up, darlin’ I ain’t done with you yet.”

His beard scrapes against your neck as he moves to your ear.

“It’s my turn to use you.”

Your eyes shoot open. Fuck.

Joel pulls your panties down your legs as far as he can, and you squirm to wriggle them off of you.

He pulls away for a moment, but when he’s back, the bare, hot, thick length of him is pressed between your ass cheeks, and a full body shudder runs through you.

Holy shit, he’s big.

He grips your thigh again, but this time he throws it over his own. And then you feel it, the slick head of his cock as he guides it through your folds.

Oh fuck.

“You okay, peach?” He asks, laying a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Now you have tears in your eyes for an entirely different reason. His hand slides across your waist and up beneath the hem of your shirt, palming your breast. Your nipples tighten.

Your mouth feels dry and you swallow down a lump of lava. “Y-yes, Joel.”

“Good. Wanna give you all of me, how’s that sound, darlin’?”

You will take whatever, anything you can get from Joel.

“Good, Joel. Yes, please, oh my god.”

“There are those manners.”

A desperate whine slips from your lips as he directs the head of his cock into you, slowly and carefully, his hand running up and down your thigh in comforting strokes. God, he’s stretching you so much, hot and thick and pulsing inside you. It’s almost painful, but it’s a welcome pain.

“Jesus, Joel,” you moan when he stops to let you breathe, “You’re so big.”

“I ain’t even halfway in yet, darlin’.”

“W-what?” How is that even possible?

“You can take it.” He says, sliding in some more and fuck you don’t have much of a choice. but you can, and you will because he feels too fucking good, and you’re ready for him to make you feel it into next week.

“Is…is it all the way in yet?” You ask, thoroughly stretched and filled.

“Almost, sweet girl,” he breathes. “Goddamn, you’re tight.”

That makes you clench down even more, and he releases a pained groan behind you. “Relax, darlin’, c’mon.”

You do your best and let yourself sink into the bed, taking deep breaths and concentrating on the crackling of the fire.

And then, he thrusts fully into you, filling you up completely, and your mind is right back to him, a soft cry slipping from your lips into the pillow.

“There we go, tha’s it. Good job. Taking me so well,” he croons, stroking your side.

“F-fuck me, Joel, please move.”

He squeezes your ass in his large palm in retaliation to your command. “You use me, I use you, remember?”

But he listens anyway, likely desperate to move himself, because then he’s gripping your hip with a large hand and pulling back just to sheath himself fully into you once more, his cock head bumping against your cervix, and holy fucking shit.

“Joel!” You cry, and he leans over to kiss you, teeth biting at your plump lower lip as he thrusts into you again.

And again.

He rolls into you at a steady, bruising pace, and you’re practically boneless as you just take it. Cries and whimpers and moans spilling out of you like a gas leak as he mouths down your throat, sucking and biting and oh my god this is way better than just getting yourself off on his hand.

Then Joel shifts, pushing at your side to press your stomach into the mattress. You whine as he pulls out of you to situate himself behind you. He grabs your hips with both hands and pulls them up and backwards, easing himself back into you until your ass meets his skin, then he rolls his hips, driving his cock deep from a brand new angle.

All you can do is sob into the pillow.

He’s so fucking big, so fucking deep you can’t think of anything else besides him and his wonderful cock, or the filthy things he’s whispering into your shoulder blades.

His large hand plants itself on your spine, and your hands scramble for purchase on a pillow.

“Sweet girl, taking me so fuckin’ well,” he purrs. “You were desperate for this cock, huh? God, I wish you could see yourself. Split open on me like this. Your little boy toy wouldn’t be able to fuck you like this, ain’t that right?"

You shake your head. God, why did you even make that dick appointment in the first place?

You hadn’t even realized what being fucked by a “real man” meant until now.

Joel knows how to fucking deliver, you guess that’s why he’s so successful in his contracting business. He’s delivering you straight to that blessed release.

You clench around the girth of him, the filthy sounds of your arousal echoing in his room along with the cracks and snaps from the fire burning steadily in the hearth.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you definitely will be able to after this because you’re mindless as he fucks you into oblivion.

“Joel, fuck—mmph—!”

“Yeah, that’s right. Can’t say anythin’ but my name.”

His breathing has become more labored, desperate grunts escaping his lips as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s getting close, deep and gravely moans falling out of him as his thrusts become harder and more sporadic.

His hand sneaks around your front, spanning your entire stomach as he slides down to your soaking folds, his middle and ring finger finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and giving them a gentle tap before circling, using that same method from before that had you squirming.

You writhe on his length, legs falling out beneath you as your orgasm swells within you.

“Please Joel,” you whimper into the pillow.

“I’ve got you,” he promises.

It’s there, filling your body, building and cresting and searing white-hot through your limbs.

And then he thrusts a certain way, hitting that spot within you, and his fingers are circling and—

Yeah.

You fall boneless to the mattress as you come apart, your arousal coating Joel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your release, stroking your spine. Pleasure floods through your body as the tension releases, and tears freely fall as you cry into the pillow.

Because goddamn it!

How can something feel so good?

And then Joel’s pulling out of you and letting loose a long, satisfied moan as he comes all over your back, hot stripes painting you.

He collapses next to you, groaning something about his back.

And you can’t help but laugh, delirious and soft, and Joel’s laughing too, brown eyes sparkling. His calloused hand comes up, runs his thumb along your jaw, and he’s smiling at you, soft and unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

“You alright, peach?”

“Ohhh yeah,” you giggle, sighing with contentment.

You’re gonna be feeling this for days, just like you wanted.

Joel’s lips brush against your forehead gently, and you’re too tired to acknowledge it, slumber pulling you under far too quickly. You think you can feel the gentle swipe of a wet washcloth on your back before you pass out.

-----

“Fuck…”

The bed is empty when you wake, and a spike of anxiety shoots through you as you sit up. A fire still crackles in the hearth, a fresh log dropped in the ash. On the night stand is a note, beneath it, one of Joel’s t-shirts, your jeans, and a pair of your underwear.

Mortification climbs through you as you read:

Peach,

My bathroom’s on the left if you’d like to shower. I hope you don’t mind, I went through your bag to get you some panties underwear. Lot of books in there. You sure like to read.

Oh god, he found your erotica stack. The covers are not misleading, either, he definitely knows what kind of books they are. You force yourself to keep reading through the humiliation.

I’m out picking up Sarah and Ellie, I’ll be home soon. There’s pancakes on the counter. We’ll tow your car when I get back.

Also–about last night…we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But, I want you to know that if you ever need something like that again, I’m here. And for anything else. I’m here. Always.

See you soon.

Warmth fills your body and you reread those last sentences over and over.

Always. Does he really mean that?

You check the alarm clock on his nightstand–it’s eleven fucking a.m. Holy shit, you haven’t slept that late in a long time.

When you stand, an ache radiates through you, and memories of last night flit in your mind and along with them, a fresh new wave of arousal. You scramble for the shower.

You emerge fresh and clean twenty minutes later, smelling like Joel, having only his body wash and shampoo to use. Each inhale is practically torture, and the ache between your legs is just another reminder. Seeing yourself in his shirt makes it worse. You try and push it away.

You descend the steps, halting when you hear the sound of Ellie’s voice from the kitchen.

“And I was like, pew pew! And I got both of them out!”

Sarah’s scoff of disbelief follows. “Nuh-uh! You didn’t even hit me!”

You creep down the steps, smiling a bit at Ellie’s outcry of “Yes I fucking did!”, and then you hear it–Joel’s low laugh, the Texan drawl.

“You kiddos are gonna drive me crazy. Just eat your damn pancakes.”

“Why’d you make these in the first place? You don’t even like pancakes,” Sarah teases.

“Uh…”

You decide you should probably help him out. “Hey girls.”

Three heads snap in your direction. The eyes of one skirting down your body, a blush creeping across his cheeks. The other two brighten in shock.

“What are you doing here!” Ellie gasps.

“We haven’t seen you in forever!” Sarah adds.

You enter the kitchen and come up behind them to pull them in for a hug, your arms hooking around their necks. You smush their cheeks against yours. Ellie grumbles, Sarah laughs.

“I know! I’ve missed you guys so much. I’m just super busy with being an adult and all that shit,” you say, letting them go so they can breathe. You round the island, grabbing a plate and stacking two pancakes on it.

“Well, stop being busy. We miss you,” Ellie says.

“If I could, I would.”

“Why are you wearing Dad’s shirt?” Sarah asks, eyes narrowing, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips.

“I–um–” the question catches you off guard, and you scramble for an excuse, eyes flicking to Joel desperately. He clears his throat and crosses his arms over his broad chest, now covered in yet another, dark flannel. How many does he own?

“Snowstorm stranded her here last night, and she didn’t have any clean clothes,” Joel says, definitively.

It’s not a lie at all, and yet, it feels like one.

Sarah and Ellie exchange a look that says, yeah fucking right. You shovel pancake into your mouth to try and cool down the blush in your cheeks.

“Speakin’ of,” he continues, “I’ve got the tow dolly all hooked up so when you’re done, we can tow your car out.”

“Great. Thank you, Joel.”

His brown eyes flick between yours, his hand coming up to rest large and warm on your shoulder. “‘Course, sweetheart.”

You finish your pancakes without any more embarrassing questions from the girls, thank God, and then you’re out in the snow wearing a pair of Joel’s boots stuffed with socks (they’re too big, but they’re better than heels) and bundled up in one of his coats, watching Joel tow your tiny car out of the snowbank.

It’s just as cold as yesterday, though the dreary sky has cleared into a baby blue, the sun bright and high above the clouds. The roads are clearer, the snow plows having come by not too long ago.

You grimace as you hear your car groan and creak as Joel pulls it out of the snow, big puffs of it falling off the roof in clumps. Eventually, it’s on solid ground once more, and he tows it back toward his cabin.

Back in the driveway, Joel hops out of his truck and double checks your car. He pats the roof of it when he deems it accetable. “All good to go, sweetheart.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you so much Joel, seriously.”

He nods, though he looks…nervous for some reason. “‘Course, darlin’. Glad I could help.”

You don’t really want to leave, but you’ve bothered him long enough, so you stroll to the driver's side and go to open it, but suddenly Joel’s hand comes down to keep it closed. You look up at him confused.

His expression is hard, serious as he looks down at you. “Do you regret last night?”

Well. You were not expecting that. You thought that, maybe, it would just remain undiscussed. A blip. Something you both shared, but never spoke of again. You know your answer, though.

“No. I don’t.”

“Good,” he says, eyes dark, “me either.”

He opens the door for you, pauses for a second then shuts it, voice desperate. “I just need to say this, before you go.”

You nod, encouraging him to go on.

He takes a deep breath, rakes a hand through his graying locks. Pinches the bridge of his nose, and shuts his eyes tight. When he opens them again, there's a hard determination in them. Your pulse quickens, your legs turn to jelly.

“I like you, peach,” he says. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me because of the whole single father thing. And, also because I’m me. But I just thought I’d tell you how I felt, because,” he huffs out a laugh, shakes his head, “I’m thinkin’ you might like me, too.”

Your hands are shaking, and not because of the cold. Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket with how lucky you've been these past fifteen hours.

“I’ve liked you since the moment I met you, Joel," you confess.

“Oh,” he says, breathless, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your own grin forming to match his.

The breeze shakes the evergreens, drifting flakes of snow onto Joel’s graying hair. His nose is reddened by the biting cold, but his eyes are warm as he smiles down at you.

“Not gonna lie to you sweetheart, I’m kind of glad you got stranded here.”

"Yeah, me too," you laugh, and then you pull him down to you, pressing your lips against his, smiling into the kiss.

This kiss is the exact opposite of the one he gave you last night. It’s careful, sweet, tentative. He reveres your mouth, rather than ravishes it. You’re both bundled in multiple layers, standing in the freezing cold rather than lying naked in a warm bed.

And yet, it’s just as perfect, if not more.

Eventually Joel pulls back, hands heavy on your waist. He’s still grinning. His hands frame your face, his thumb running softly along your cheekbone.

“Peach,” he says. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller

4K notes · View notes

winniethewife · 2 months

Text

I walked with you once upon a dream

(William "Ironhead" Miller x F!reader)

Words: 539

A/N: For the Triple Frontier Write-a-Thon.

Will’s phone was ringing, the caller Id flashing that it was the woman he had been dating for just a few weeks. He was hesitant to call her his girlfriend, they hadn’t really talked about it yet. He reaches for his phone and slides to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Will! Thank god you answered. I hate to bother you, but my car broke down on my way home from work and I need help. I don-” he could hear the tell tale whimper of tears in her voice and acted instinctively, interrupting her with a gently soothing voice. “Just send me your location, I’ll be right there.” He says with a reassuring tone, he could hear her sigh with relief on the other end of the line,

“Thank you so much. I owe you one.” She sounds significantly calmer when he hangs up the phone. When he gets her location he’s surprised because she shows up not so far from a suburban neighborhood. He thought she would be somewhere near town, but he realizes, he has no idea what she does for a living. As he gets into his car he ponders the possibilities. Is she a house cleaner? A Nanny? Door to door sales-woman? Will feels a little embarrassed, he hadn’t even asked her what she did for a living. He tried to rack his brain for anything that she might have said, not coming up with a single thing she had said. He pulls up behind her on the side of the road and gets out of his car. As he walks up to her door he was wracking his brain for a way to ask her what she does when he sees what she’s wearing. A full on ball gown, and a tiara. Will does a double take, this was not what he was expecting at all. She rolls down her window.

“Hey, thanks so much, I didn’t know who else to call.” She says with a smile.

“No problem…princess.” He says with a slight laugh before looking her over. “I will admit, I’m a little surprised to see you…dressed like that.”

“Oh, god. I forgot I hadn’t told you. I work for a party princess company.” She says as if that will explain everything to him. He looks at her puzzled.

“And that is?” he asks as he leans on her car looking at her.

“I get hired to dress as a princess and show up to kids birthday parties.” She explains. “Sometimes other events too, but mostly parties, hence Party princess,”

“Ah, I didn’t even know that was a thing you could do…” Will smiles and rubs the back of his head sheepishly. After getting under the hood and figuring out that this was not something he could fix on the side of the road they called roadside assistance and as they waited for the tow truck to some he asked her several questions about her job and she happily answered them. After the tow truck came Will drove her home. As he pulled up in front of her place she leans over and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you…prince charming.” She says with a cheeky smile. He chuckles slightly.

“Anything for my damsel in distress.”

Masterlist

Tag: @triplefrontier-anniversary @romanarose

#triplefrontier2019 #triplefrontier #triple frontier #x reader #Spotify #triple frontier fic #william miller #will miller #William “Ironhead” Miller #William Ironhead Miller #William Ironhead Miller x reader #female reader #william miller x reader #will miller x reader #will miller x you #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnman x reader #Charlie hunnman fan fic #x fem!reader

93 notes · View notes

sydsaint · 5 months

Text

It's time for Holiday fics!!!

Summary: The reader is volunteering at a Christmas event for WWE when her long-time friend Austin brings his new tag partner with him.

Friday morning, well before Smackdown is scheduled to start, Grayson and Austin are booked for a holiday charity event with a few other superstars and talents from the company. Including the current NXT women's champ and Austin's long-time best friend, you.

"So, how come you've never mentioned this Y/N chick, Austin?" Grayson asks Austin as they make their way through the parking lot of the event center.

"I don't know." Austin shrugs. "You were on NXT not that long ago. I guess that I just assumed that you knew her." He explains.

Grayson shakes his head. "Nope. Never heard of her. Is she hot?" He teases Austin with a laugh.

Austin rolls his eyes and pushes Grayson's arm. "Ew. no!" He sneers. "Y/N's my best friend! She might as well be my sister, man."

"Yeah yeah." Grayson grins. "Do you remember the number of the booth we're supposed to be at? Because I forgot." He admits.

Austin groans, having also forgotten what booth they're supposed to be at. He begrudgingly pulls out his phone and dials your number.

Across the event center, you are helping stack some fake presents up in a neat pile for the display when your phone buzzes in the pocket of your Santa skirt. "Austin? Where are you?" You glance at the caller ID before answering. "You're late by like an hour." You scold him.

"Yeah, sorry, Y/N." Austin chuckles. "Umm, Grayson and I are kind of lost. What booth are we supposed to meet you at, again?" He asks you.

"Really, Austin?" You roll your eyes playfully. "We're in booth 43? It's one of the ones near the middle of the center." You explain.

Austin remains silent for a moment, but you can tell that he's thinking really hard through the phone. "Yeah...and where is that?" He asks you with a sheepish chuckle.

"You are so useless." You make a lighthearted complaint. "Where are you right now? I'll come get you guys."

Austin relays his position to you before you hang up on him. You dismiss yourself from the rest of the volunteers for the moment and go in search of your best friend and his new boyfriend.

A few minutes later Austin and Grayson are chatting while they wait for you to show up. Austin is going on about Smackdown later when he notices Grayson's eyes widen while looking over his shoulder.

"Grayson?" Austin attempts to get Waller's attention back on him. "What are you staring at?" He asks and turns around to find you heading down the hall toward them.

"Holy hell, mate. Is that, Y/N?" Grayson asks Austin through a slacked jaw.

Austin nods and watches you power-walk down the hall in your little Santa jacket and matching skirt. "Yeah, that's her." He nods. "Hey! Stop drooling!" He makes Grayson's chest when he catches the awe-struck look in Grayson's eyes.

"Austin! There you are!" You strut over to the pair. "And you must be Grayson." You briefly eye Waller standing next to him with a dumbfounded look on his face.

You wait for Grayson to introduce himself, but Waller remains silent. So, Austin makes the introduction for him. "Yeah, this is Grayson." Austin nods. "I like the outfit by the way. very cute." He teases you.

"Bite me, Austin." You roll your eyes. "Just wait until you see the Santa's helper costumes they have for you two." You tease him right back. "Come on! We still have a lot of stuff to do before people start showing up."

You turn sharply on your heel and start marching back the way you came. Austin follows at your heels and Grayson finally musters up the will to speak once you're a bit ahead of them.

"Well, I know what I'm asking Santa for Christmas." Grayson jokes with a cheeky grin.

"Come on man." Austin groans.

You make it back to the booth with the boys in tow and promptly put them to work helping set up the display.

A couple of hours later everyone is taking a small break before the event center opens for the day. You are perched on a crate wrapped to look like a giant present and going over the inventory list when Grayson saunters up to you.

"Now, if I ask nicely, do you think Santa will stick you under my tree this Christmas?" He asks you with a flirty smile.

"Oh, so he can speak?" You peer over your checklist.

Grayson chuckles and is quick to rebound from your little quip. "Yeah, you'll have to forgive me for that." He grins. "But it's not every day that I get to see a woman as stunning as you."

"Oh my god!" You laugh. "Austin! Please come get your boy before he embarrasses himself some more!" You call out to Austin standing on the other side of the booth. "You're gonna have to try harder than that if you want any action from me, Waller." You inform Grayson with a sly grin.

"Yeah?" Grayson replies before Austin walks over to him. "Perfect! I love a good challenge, sweetheart." He informs you with a wink before Austin drags him off.

The event center opens and people start to pour in. The day flies by as you sign autographs, take photos, and hand out merch all day. But seeing all the happy fans makes it all worth it.

Around lunch, you are taking a small water break while your line is empty and watch Austin and Grayson working their line. You observe Waller harmlessly flirt with a couple of girls who come by the booth for a picture and can't help but roll your eyes.

"He's cute, isn't he?" One of the volunteers walks up to you while nodding toward Grayson.

"Maybe a little." You admit. "I think that the accent is doing most of the work though." You joke.

The volunteer shrugs but agrees with you. "Yeah, but I'm okay with that." She jokes.

You both laugh and a few kids walk up to your line so you get back to work.

At the end of the night, everyone is taking down some of the stuff for the booth when Austin and Grayson come up to you again. "Hey, Y/N, Waller and I are gonna grab dinner and drinks after we're done here. You want in?" He asks you.

"Yeah, sure, I could use dinner and a drink." You nod while tearing down an empty box. "As long as Grayson's buying." You add with a grin.

"Pleasure is all mine, sweetheart," Grayson replies. "Just promise that you won't change out of that outfit." He teases you.

You laugh and get back at him. "Only if you keep that one on." You nod to his and Austin's matching Christmas Elf costumes.

"Hey! We both know I make this work." Grayson replies.

#wrestling #wwe #wwe fandom #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #grayson waller #grayson waller x reader

44 notes · View notes

joanquill · 2 years

Text

"Yep. We're lost. In the fucking woods."

Nummer 26 Character: Sherlock Is it okay when it’s in modern times So i had this idea that he and yn (his girlfriend) are in France. It was before he meet William and John. (He also said once’s he was in France so I thought abt this) but whit yn and he wanted to go on a date w her but then, after it got lost in the woods bc the car didn’t worked anymore and thought it was okay to walk but then got lost. Sorry if it’s to much

Sherlock Holmes

A/N: This is set in France before Sherlock met John and William in the UK. I only used google translate for the French part since I don't know French. Apologies if it's wrong ^^"

Tag/s: Modern!AU, Fem!Reader, Established Relationship

"Yep... It's busted," Sherlock grumbled as he closed the hood, making you bite your lip.

"Oui... Oui, je comprends... Merci pour votre temps," you declined the call with a sigh, turning to Sherlock.

"The tow company said it'll take at least two hours to get here," you muttered, looking around the road.

"Maybe we can ask for help from a-AAHHH!!!" you screeched as something jumped out of the bushes, revealing a small squirrel.

"Pfft," Sherlock covered his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he turned away from you.

"Shut up! It's your fault for making me watch horror movies last night!" you punched his back repeatedly, making him laugh.

"Yes, yes... Sorry," he smiled as he rubbed your head, making you grumble.

"Then should we walk? It should be close by," Sherlock suggested, looking around the road.

You pursed your lips as you looked around, the darkness of the forest and the rustling of leaves giving you an uneasy feeling.

"D-Don't you think we should stay in the car? And you know... Not wander around like a bunch of characters in a horror movie?" you asked as Sherlock took your things from the car.

"It should be a fifteen-minute walk from here, and you said the tow company's gonna take two hours," Sherlock answered as he double-checked the car.

"Do you want to stay here for that long?" he asked, making you shake your head.

"Then let's try walking. We can always go back if you want," Sherlock locked the car, but you were still wary.

"But you can stay here while I check around," Sherlock offered as he tossed you the car keys, leaving you behind.

"H-Huh?" you fumbled the keys as you tried to catch it, "Hey! Wait for me!" you shouted, running after him.

You hugged Sherlock's arm tightly as you walked along the side of the road, watching your environment closely.

"Don't worry, (Y/N)," Sherlock reassured, ruffling your hair.

"If a bloodthirsty squirrel jumps out again, I'll protect you,"

"Oh, shut it!" you scowled, making him chuckle.

"(Y/N), we're literally in broad daylight,"

"But we're in the middle of nowhere," you countered, holding onto him tightly.

"No," Sherlock showed you his phone with a GPS, "We're not. We'll be fine," he kissed your fingertips, "Trust me," he smiled, easing your anxieties a little.

"Okay..." Sherlock muttered, raising his phone to the sky.

"Wait here. I'll be right back," Sherlock hollered as he walked off, moving his phone around.

"H-Huh? Okay..." you mumbled as you looked around, your head snapping in each direction.

You paced around the side of the road, trying to ignore your anxieties.

'Relax, (Y/N)... Sherlock will be right back and-' you saw the bushes rattle, making you freeze.

"I-It's just gonna be a squirrel again," you muttered, but you kept your eyes focused on the bushes, readying yourself to run.

"Hey-" you felt someone grab your shoulder, making you jump and scream, scaring off whatever was in the bushes.

You quickly turned around and saw it was Sherlock covering his ears.

"Sherlock!" you shouted, furrowing your brows and balling your fists.

"Don't scare me like that!" you cried, your vision growing blurry as you wiped your eyes.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to..." Sherlock apologized as he hugged you, rubbing your back.

"...Did you get any signal?" you asked, wiping your tears.

"Yeah... About that..." Sherlock nervously laughed, confirming your fears.

"Yep." you sighed in defeat as you hid your face in his chest, "We're lost. In the fucking woods."

#yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #halloween #sherlock x reader #ynm sherlock #sherlock holmes #jq halloween event

40 notes · View notes

elphantasmo · 11 months

Text

The post about the Karen's for hire made me think about the absolute bullshit I had to deal with yesterday. I had to be in a different part of the city yesterday for a mandatory thing all day for work. This required me to wake up earlier than normal and I just didn't have time to make breakfast, so I ordered Starbucks to be picked up and headed down to the garage to leave. I get to the garage and I round the corner and my parking space is empty. Like. My car was just straight up gone. So I head upstairs and go check the parking lot, thinking that my partner may have taken it and didn't park it in the garage. Still no car to be found. At this point I'm running later than I was and I'm in a full blown panic thinking someone stole my fucking car. (also, my work bags are in the car so yeah...) I call my director, explain the situation, and she's like "handle that and don't worry about today". Cool. I call the police and they inform me that my car was towed and gave me the information to the tow company. Now I'm really fucking mad and confused. I was in my assigned parking spot and my car is up to date on tabs and whatnot. I call the tow company and they tell me they towed me at the request of my leasing office because I was parked in the wrong spot and that there was a tag on my car. What. The. Fuck. So I call the leasing office the minute they open and go into this back and forth about it being my assigned spot and how I shouldn't be towed. The woman is like "we assigned that spot to someone else". The whole time I'm on speaker phone and my partner chimes in and goes "Well can you tell us what are our assigned spots then?" We can hear typing and the woman go "oh...oh no." and she asks if she can transfer us to the property manager. Apparently they assigned my spot to someone else and should not have towed my fucking car. The property manager said they will credit our rent with the cost of the tow, the uber to get to the car, and an extra 100 dollars for our troubles. But it took me pointing out that they were paying for this mistake because I didn't fuck up and they did. Was a shit way to start my day yesterday.

#long post #chatty cassie

3 notes · View notes

ghostsinthecellar · 2 years

Text

the oxygen saga so far - we sell our house, and are about to move out of state. we know the company mom gets oxygen through isn’t available in the new place, and her insurance plan isn’t either - we return her rented machine and tanks. at no point during this return is it mentioned that we should keep either the machine or the tanks for the trip or while waiting to get a new provider - we move. mom cancels the insurance on the way, they say she has to keep it until the first and then it’ll end - we get here. mom has her own secondhand stationary oxygen machine, we have some personal tanks that we get refilled at a welding company 40 minutes away - mom’s machine starts malfunctioning. she makes an emergency appointment with the family doctor so he can get her set up with a new medical supply provider, we go to get more tanks refilled in case the machine stops working altogether, we get 4 out of the goal of 6, the truck has an issue on the way back and we’re towed home - mom plays phone tag. for days. with the doctor, the new supplier, medicare, the old supplier. at first the new supplier says they just need more information. then tests. then they say she’s locked in with the old supplier for two more years because medicare works in five year shifts and she spent three at the old supplier. medicare says no no you should just need your id card and a prescription. supplier says no we only work this way, we can rent private but it’s $340 a month for just the machine no tanks. we buy a refurbished machine for $450 and it’s supposed to be here 6/3/22 (today) by 6 (waiting still for that) - old supplier says we can’t help you, we don’t work with people more than 50 miles out, their closest office is 100 miles away, we should have taken the stuff and someone should have told us to take the stuff but then we would have been charged for the stuff because they don’t service people so far away, they say try a different provider or go to the emergency room because then they’ll have to start the billing period over again - medicare says old supplier should supply anyway because they just have to bill a different insurance - mom’s now in a conference call with medicare and rotech. rotech says no we definitely told her to keep the equipment, we wouldn’t have charged her even though we wouldn’t have had a way to get our equipment back or help her because she’s outside out zone

#Charlie babbles

6 notes · View notes

william8130 · 5 days

Text

Top Tips for Hiring the Best iPhone 15 Pro in the UK

The iPhone 15 Pro is a powerhouse phone, but its hefty price tag might make you consider alternative options. Here in the UK, phone contracts offer a way to spread the cost and potentially snag valuable extras. But navigating the world of contracts can be tricky. Fear not, intrepid iPhone seeker! This guide equips you with the knowledge to hire an iPhone 15 Pro contract.

Know Your Needs

Before diving in, assess your phone usage. Are you a data hog who streams constantly? A photography enthusiast needing ample storage? Identifying your primary needs helps narrow down your contract options.

Data Allowance: Data is king! Plans range from a few gigabytes to unlimited. Choose a plan that reflects your average usage. Exceeding your data allowance can incur hefty charges.

Storage: The iPhone 15 Pro likely offers multiple storage tiers. Consider how much you store – photos, music, apps – and choose accordingly. Upgrading later might be difficult or expensive.

Network Coverage: Not all networks have equal coverage across the UK. Check coverage maps to ensure you get a good signal where you live, work, and travel.

Once you understand your needs, it's comparison time! Utilise price comparison websites or retailer apps to compare different contract offers. Pay attention to:

Upfront Cost: Some contracts come with a small upfront fee to lower monthly payments.

Monthly Cost: This is the ongoing cost of the contract. Factor in any additional charges like line rental.

Contract Length: Contracts typically last 12 or 24 months. Choose a length you're comfortable with – breaking a contract can incur fees.

Included Extras: Some contracts bundle data boosts, free accessories, or subscriptions to music/streaming services.

Look Beyond the Big Names:

Consider trusting professional phone rental in the UK that piggyback on the major networks. They often offer competitive rates, especially for data-heavy users. However, their customer service might be less extensive.

Read the Fine Print:

Don't get caught out by hidden fees! Scrutinise the contract for early termination charges, additional service fees, and data overage costs.

Seek Expert Advice:

Don't be afraid to ask for assistance! The top iPhone rental company will be there to help you find the best contract for your needs.

The Final Thoughts

With these tips in tow, you're well on your way to securing the perfect iPhone 15 Pro contract. Remember, the best deal isn't always the cheapest – prioritize features that align with your needs and consult with the best phone rental in the UK.

#Hire an iPhone 15 Pro #phone rental uk

0 notes

flowerskelley83 · 5 months

Text

Sell Used Car - An Overview

In case you wish to scrap any type of scrap auto, we're presenting contactless cash by e-transfer. That is a vital update within our payment methods for all These who would like to scrap cars in Scarborough and Markham. Phone Towing and Scrap Car or truck Removal and get fast cash in your scrap auto. Automobile recyclers clear away and properly eliminate all harmful supplies and fluids, which include motor oil, brake fluid, and coolant. This makes sure that these substances usually do not pollute the atmosphere or hurt human overall health. The work we do is hard, we desire you might see what every day’s perform is like inside our sneakers! Chiefly we drive through all of it hoping we might make a variance in our consumers’ life, plus the environment. These elements might be recycled and reused, giving a sustainable source of assets with the manufacture of new EVs. It’s also safer to convey a loved one or Close friend when selling the car to A non-public celebration. Also, make sure you opt for only legit sorts of payment like a cashier’s Look at or on the internet alternatives from highly regarded financial institutions. The needed info when selling an auto varies based on your site. junk car removal mississauga has It really is very own procedures and polices. Here is a list of a number of prevalent matters to rearrange just before selling, but you'll want to perform some further more research on any Exclusive necessities your point out might have. That not simply deflated the price of used Teslas but forced many other producers to chop their price ranges. Our job is concluded swiftly. We're familiar with both of those cars and also the salvage market, so we're prepared to give you a fair price tag. Our workforce of committed motorists will take away any junk or scrap motor vehicle you could have regardless of its issue or shape. Advertise your automobile domestically or regionally, and in as quite a few spots like online Sites for instance Scrap auto removal Brampton, scrapcars4cash.com and many others. Make sure to attach the picture of your car. You may as well use newspaper, World wide web, tv and magazines for advertising and marketing. You may as well take your vehicle to scrap yard for the quote. This promoting features quite a few Positive aspects it builds customer pleasure or constructive anticipations of Many of us. It is possible to emphasize the most effective features from the automobile inside your advertisement like new tires. Wonderful company, genuine price , no haggling over the quotation provided whenever they arrived, prompt service ,fantastic folks to manage. I like to recommend them for all scrap car removal wherever in Durham Area. Corey Hayward You should make sure you take out all belongings like 407 transponders and plates. We do not accept garbage in cars possibly. We buy all types of junk and scrap cars in Oshawa whatever the size, condition, make, and product. Get the top price tag to your scrap and junk vehicle now! For used electrical autos (EVs), price ranges are down by about a 3rd nationally previously calendar year. And if that pattern continues, it is just a make any difference of time until finally used EVs will not likely only Price considerably less to power and keep but additionally to purchase.

#scrap car removal mississauga

0 notes

ecodweeb · 5 years

Text

Electrify America’s growing pains

I’ve been too busying driving to stop and post, but I had to pen some thoughts about Electrify America and their roll out. I’ve been using them a lot lately, and the experience is 3 out of 5 stars…

Let’s start with the bugs I’ve found. First, for some time now, PlugShare has shown two EA sites “coming soon” in Durham and Hillsborough.

I drove out to the Durham location about a week or two before I bought the Hyundai, and not a thing was there. No construction, nothing. Strange… all the other sites had broken ground when they popped up on the map. So, on Friday (the 14th), I checked the Electrify America map like I always do. Lo and behold - they had the Durham location marked as live, and there was a PlugShare check in that confirmed it was operational as of the 13th! Weirdly, both that Hillsborough and Durham sites showed “live” on Friday…

I drove out to address listed for the new location – 3414 Hillsborough Rd in Durham – and there was no Electrify America. As you can see from the screenshots above, standing at the alleged location of the site the EA app map shows I’m about 9 miles away from it (despite being at the address listed for the site). Thanks to PlugShare, we knew the address of the correct Sheetz – so off we went!

I found the chargers, and 3 of the 4 were operational. The one that wasn’t had physical damage on the front of it. I plugged in long enough to get 1.2kWh of energy and then called customer service to report the location issue. After that, I emailed photos of the damage at the site as they requested and went home to sleep before my long day of volunteering.

Saturday was an action-packed day. My friend, Seth, and I worked at a yard sale benefiting the SAGE program at the LGBT Center of Raleigh. At 11:30, we departed the yard sale and headed towards Florence, SC for a car show with an EV showcase. We stopped off in Lumberton to charge, which is where the next bug reared its ugly head…

I plugged into the first station, but it never recognized the car. I plugged into the second station, and it charged about 7 minutes and then stopped. I moved to a third station, and that one charged the car to completion. I used the app to start the session on all three chargers, and after the charger would say “plug in here,” the app would tell me an error occurred and my charge had failed. Despite that, two of the stations did initiate a charge. The first time it actually started charging, I got the progress indicator in my mobile app. However, the last charging attempt presented me with a charging indicator that showed 0%. I ignored it, until we got to Florence. It was still there, despite the session having ended and both the push notification to the app and the text message said my charging session had ended.

Opening up another site while the “active charging” banner is on screen is quite difficult. It’s one of the criticisms I have about the app. As of this writing, I still have the above stuck on my screen (but EA support emailed me back at 2p today and said they were looking into this).

Also, three of the 5 charging spaces were ICE’d at Florence. I called EA and they said to get the tag # and description of the car and ask the Walmart Customer Service team to page the owner and threaten the car could be towed. Nice idea, but I didn’t test it out. EA really needs to have a predatory towing company to address this.

I also want to talk about Electrify America’s billing policies. They base your tiered pricing on how fast your car says it can theoretically charge upon initial communication with the station. As a rep told me, my Hyundai reports that it can draw 83kW - which puts it in the $0.42/min tier, even though it never exceeds 70kW actual draw (and anything 75kW or less should pay $0.15/minute). I’ve brought this up three times with Electrify America, and I keep playing phone tag with a woman named Paris who seems like she wants to discuss the issue with me… if we could ever get on the phone together. No one has a direct line in customer service, so I have to go through the queue and request a call back every time I miss her call. It’s beyond infuriating.

So, sometimes my car (and what circumstances determine this, I don’t know yet) will report it can only draw 75kW - which puts it into the $0.15/minute charging bracket. A few weeks ago, coming back from a graduation party in VA, I thought that the car would report different max charging speeds based on the battery’s state of charge. On our trip up, we charged at 49% and 51%, and both times we were in the $0.15/min tier of pricing. On the return, we plugged in at 8% and it was $0.42. I stopped the charge at 52% and reconnected, and it still put me in the $0.42/min tier. That theory is out.

Going to Florence, it was super hot outside. I left the Bluetooth OBD adapter, so I couldn’t monitor the battery temperature on this trip (which I regret). Every charge - and we did a total of 3 - were at the $0.15/min rate. I’d like to think maybe EA has changed their policy, but I know it’s just my car reporting it is charging slower (for whatever reason).

So, yeah, I’ve found two bugs in the EA app/map and I’ve been fruitlessly trying to get a hold of some one higher up to discuss this pricing policy. As the story develops, I’ll update the blog. Stay tuned.

#blog #evadventures #electrifyamerica #hyundai #ioniq #2019

0 notes

toabelovednightmare · 1 year

Text

A Weekend at the Beach

Characters/Pairings: Brarg. Martin, Luciano, Sebastian, Miguel, Manuel, Maria, Catalina, Daniel, Julio, and Francisco (read the tags after you finish reading).

Notes: I wrote this for what I think was the 2019 Brarg Week. Something must have happened because I didn’t get around to finish it even though I really liked it. Anyways, here it is.

Warnings: This is a WIP that will probably remain a WIP forever.

So maybe they all had been too optimistic about the weekend. It was summer, the beach was two hours away, and they were completely free because the meeting for Saturday had been postponed. The South American summit would resume on Monday night, so they had all the time in the world to camp on the beach, and drive back to the city on Monday. They had enough money and time, so a short improvised road trip wasn't that hard to plan.

Of course, they didn't tell their bosses. They didn't have to, since they were simply going to do what they always did: get extremely drunk, party and, maybe, hook up. But that's what they all usually did in their free time, so it was not like they had to explain what they were going to do "while in the city."

Saturday morning, they rented three cars, bought some tents and food, and drove to the beach town, and well...

The sun was shining brightly over his face when Luciano opened his eyes.

It took him a whole minute to remember where he was, why he was there, and why Martin's arm was wrapped around his torso. Then, he heard hysterical shouting in the background. He lifted his head from the sand to look in the direction of the noise.

Then, he jumped to his feet.

The cars were getting towed. Miguel was screaming, making up all sorts of excuses to try to stop the tow truck operators. Manuel was screaming at Miguel for suggesting they park there. Maria jumped in the remaining car and drove away at full speed before anyone could stop her.

And, oh boy, was it about to get worse.

Martin woke up cussing. He was bright pink, like a shrimp. He accused Luciano of letting him sleep in so he would burn like a piece of steak. Luciano argued back, saying that Martin had been the one who wanted to "sleep under the stars" to begin with when he obviously was just too lazy to build a tent. Martin threw his arms in the air and reminded him that he had been too drunk to stand up after Luciano had "playfully" pinned him down on the sand.

The truck was then ready to leave with two of the three cars they had rented.

Martin ran to hold the door of the tow truck driver as the man tried to leave. Two minutes later, the operator was out of the truck and about to start throwing fists at Martin. Martin kept screaming non sensical stuff that made Luciano consider that, perhaps, the Argentinian was still too drunk to function. One second he was going off about how they could sue the towing company for their clear "abuse of power," the next he was screaming about how he was going to find where the man lived, and turn his life into a living hell.

They all had to pry Martin off the driver's door again. The truck left with the cars. Maria was still M.I.A. Catalina had disappeared behind some dunes while trying to get some signal on her phone. Sebastian, who had been sleeping like a baby inside his own tent, emerged to ask if someone had seen his glasses.

Luciano noted the strong smell coming from Sebastian's tent and wondered until what hour of the night he had stayed up smoking weed. Poor Sebby was now blindly searching around the campsite. He was completely oblivious to the mess going on around him.

Manuel and Martin were arguing. Miguel was trying to find something to eat for breakfast, and Daniel and Julio had followed Catalina--it had been a while since she left. Where the hell was Francisco? Great. They were now missing half the group.

Luciano was about to go help Sebastian when Martin stomped back to him fuming and demanding that he help him rub some Icy-Hot on his back before he passed out from the pain. He rolled his eyes and called the Argentinian overdramatic but decided to help him anyway.

They crawled inside an empty tent, and Luciano went on and on about how Martin was like a whiny baby. Martin was lying on his stomach, wincing and mumbling curses. Luciano laid kisses between his shoulders; no one was watching, so it was okay.

Martin stared at him out of the corner of his eye. After a couple of minutes of massaging, he let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. Luciano brushed the hair out of his eyes and whispered a secret in his ear. Martin smiled.

The siren of a police car approaching destroyed their little moment. Two police officers walked towards their camp. Apparently, some blond intoxicated guy had threatened to kill a poor tow truck operator. They gave a quick glance around, and then decided that they were taking Sebastian--he looked intoxicated enough and was kind of blond--to the police station.

Martin tried, he really tried to stand up and stop the officers from taking his dear cousin. But moving hurt. A lot. So he ended up moaning in the sand while he watched the officers grab and push a very confused and alarmed Sebby into the police car. Sebastian was screaming, "police brutality" at the top of his lungs, but the officers wouldn't listen to anyone--since they all looked like a bunch of drunk clowns.

Manuel had given up trying to make sense of the situation at that point. Miguel had made sandwiches. Martin was still rolling on the sand, suffering loudly. Luciano was wondering how they were going to explain everything to their bosses.

He tried to imagine the presidents when they noticed that all the South American nations had gone missing. They were never going to hear the end of it. And they could kiss the rest of their holiday goodbye.

Martin asked if it was his fault that the police took Sebastian, to which Manuel replied yes, Miguel said no, and Luciano kept silent. They were so screwed. It was getting late.

Catalina, Daniel, and Julio returned to the camp. There was absolutely no signal anywhere near. There was, however, a group of sketchy-looking dudes hanging out a few miles from there. They had jumped them and stolen their phones.

Luciano asked if anyone could remember how far away was the nearest "actual town". They would have to find Sebastian before even thinking about how they were going back to the city. Had the cops said where the police department was?

All these innocent questions started another argument, now between Martin and Daniel. Daniel was convinced that Martin had thrown Sebastian under the bus to avoid the consequences of his own stupidity. Martin couldn’t believe he was getting accused of betraying his own blood. Meanwhile, Miguel was freaking out because, apparently, guns had been involved in the whole phone ordeal. Julio rolled his eyes and explained that the guns were probably fake toy guns, but Cata and Dani wanted to "play it safe."

Amid all the fighting, Luciano wondered if he wouldn't be better off disappearing between the waves.

#latin hetalia #drabbles #brarg #WIP #lh: argentina #lh: brasil #many other south american countries #sorry but i´m too lazy to tag them all #don't worry #fran was sleeping in the backseat of Maria's car #they went to grab breakfast before going back to the camp

1 note · View note

imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

Text

You, Always You: Part 9

Steve stole a glance over to the top of his menu, his blue-green eyes watching you as you mouthed the ingredients of the choice you were peering over. As your eyebrows furrowed and that slight frown had formed on your face at the unsightly ingredient that you had no favouritism for, he had cracked a soft grin and was thankful that you couldn’t see his reaction to you.

The small event that he had taken you to, to check out the hotel and the restaurant hadn’t been as short of an affair as he would’ve liked, and it had gotten to the point where he had to call Andrea and let her know that the two of you would be out for the rest of the afternoon.

While she was undoubtedly professional through the phone, Steve had known well enough that she was smirking on the other line, and he could picture the exact look on her face when she told him to ‘take his time.’

“Do you know what you want?” Steve had questioned, splitting his time watching the kitchen staff run through a soft open to a few private dinners. It was the standard procedure, and Steve had intended for the two of you to experience it and go back to the office; however, when he had arrived with you in tow, there was more to it than just a quick visit.

Steve had taken you on a tour of the reconstructed and renovated hotel from the ballrooms on the lower floor to the penthouse suites at the top of the hotel that boasted nearly unobstructed views of the skyline. The private balconies of the penthouse suites had been standard for these types of hotels, and Steve had seen the same kind of view over and over again. It wasn’t anything new to him, but seeing you so captivated with the ideas, with the beauty of the city and the clear skies, had been a sight he would never tire of.

It was devastatingly hard not to slide into the space beside you, to slip an arm around your waist and whisper all the hidden secrets he had held close to his chest, in your ear. It was a hard and torturous moment to see the sun hitting you with such an ethereal glow that made you appear as a goddess that was tempting him with every breath and not feel the clutch of your fingers on his jacket as he kissed you tirelessly.

The temptation, the driving need to feel you against him, to have you quiver and moan into his mouth, had almost brought him to his knees as he grappled with the idea and had nearly lost the battle. However, you were not alone, the two of you were in the company of the general manager, and despite the urgency in which Steve wanted to kiss you, he would not steal your breath in the presence of another person.

“Mushrooms. Why do so many things have mushrooms?” you had frowned again, and when your nose had scrunched at the thought, Steve had sighed wistfully and set the menu down, happy to stare at you as if you were the sun, moon and stars themselves.

“Would you like me to order for you?” The offer was put out there as your waiter had started to approach the table, his gold name tag pinned against a sleek black vest with a white collared shirt beneath and the same matching dress pants.

“Do you remember when we snuck out in the middle of the night and walked to the corner store?” You had snapped the menu shut sharply, then set it aside.

“You forgot your jacket and refused to take mine.” Steve recollected the memory and the feeling of his hands shaking as he took every step cautiously, that younger version of him afraid to embarrass himself in front of you.

“I didn’t want you to get cold.” You defended and briefly sat back as the waiter had reached for the menus and tucked them under his arm.

“What can I get started for you, Mr. Rogers?” The waiter was courteous, glancing at the pair of you equally.

“Two of the specials, one without mushrooms.” Steve had glanced at you, his lips twitching and a smile threatening to cross his face when you had bit down on your bottom lip. However, there was a moment when he was tempted to draw your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth and run the pad of his thumb across your flesh to feel it quiver beneath his touch.

“A drink, miss?” The waiter had glanced at you cordially as you had shifted on the seat.

“Water, please.” Your voice had been soft, and there was a glimmer of distance that had taken hold of you when the waiter had departed the table with your orders taken down.

“Are you okay?” Steve had leaned forward and reached for his drink, the rum and coke in a dark coloured glass, drawing a brief look from you before you had turned your attention elsewhere.

“I’m thinking.” You had murmured, and Steve was briefly distracted by the sound of your heels hitting the ground as you had kicked them off your feet.

“Anything you’d like to share?” Steve had lifted the glass to his lips and sipped on the concoction while you were in your head.

“That night, we snuck out, and I got cold….” You had drawn your hand up to your neck, grasping at the thin chain of a necklace that had been hidden partially by the shirt you wore. “I had known my mom was sick even then. She had these bad days where she could hardly get out of bed; of course, I didn’t tell anyone. And she didn’t…she couldn’t afford medication.”

There was a moment of pure vulnerability where you had instinctually curled in on yourself or had at least drawn your arms around your middle and tucked your chin into your shoulder. There was a glow about you that had been a result of the sun hitting the glass of the window just right, and that soft glow transforming you into an otherworldly being that was riddled with past sorrows.

“I never told anyone. I should’ve told you. I should’ve…even then, you were like…you were my safe place.” You had appeared downcast, the lightheartedness of the afternoon taking a turn as you revelled in painful nostalgia.

“Y/N,” Steve started to speak, just as he had shifted in his seat to come and comfort you.

“I never loved him.” Your admittance had cut him off; it had squandered the moment. “His name was John. I never loved him. I was angry, and I was lonely. I needed…I needed to feel. I need to feel something. I was so numb from pain that I just needed to feel…even if he had only added to the distress, it was at least something.”

“Sweetheart-“

“And then I got pregnant.” Steve had stood as you spoke, and he had moved around the table to stand in front of you, glancing over your shoulder toward the waiter who had approached with the first course of your meal and your water.

Steve had waved him away and waited until he had gone again before he had crouched down in front of you and placed his hand on your knee, his thumb brushing against the expanse of your flesh, his other hand coming to rest upon you, brushing away the singular tear that started to roll down your cheek.

He had brushed it away before it had fallen, and then he had kept his hand where it was, as you turned your head into his touch and your eyes closed. More tears had fallen from your eyes while your lip trembled, and you had relived that moment and the subsequent struggles over again.

“He left when he found out I was pregnant. He had walked away, and I thought…she pulled me out. She saved my life, Noelle had saved my life and she hadn’t even known it. If it weren’t for her, if it weren’t for the pregnancy, I would’ve been with him. I would’ve still been trying to deal with all the shit I had been through.”

It was a moment of vulnerability and a moment of clarity that had clued him into the inner workings of your psyche that had made you caught between hesitation and the desire to break free from your past.

You had felt guilty; you remained caught in this vile trap of remorse for going to university while your mother was sick.

And the emotional trauma of being so disingenuous with your feelings that you had almost committed yourself to a relationship that you didn’t want to be in, yet it was almost like a blinder that had made you forget how lonely you were.

It was a complicated mess of your guilt and your attempt to find something solid to stand on that had almost been the final nail to your spirit and your fire. This relationship that you had been in with your ex hadn’t been genuine and healthy, yet you were going to commit yourself to it for the sake of feeling…anything.

“You wanna get out of here?” Steve asked, and the sound had drawn your glossy, red-tinged eyes toward him, and through vision blurred by tears, you had questioned him in return as your voice was barely above a whisper.

“We can leave, we can take the day off, and we can go somewhere.”

“It’s my first day; I can’t-“

“I’m the boss, sweetheart.” He wiped away more of your tears, then slowly stood. “You can have as many first days as you need or want.”

“Steve-“

“Come on.” He had reached for your hand and helped you stand from where you sat. “Bucky can handle things for the rest of the afternoon.”

“I don’t…I shouldn’t….” Your protests had fallen short when the waiter had brought over the food in sleek takeout containers in a brown bag and handed them to Steve, who had taken them without question.

“You can. Trust me. You, more than anyone else, can.” Steve had only taken a moment to thank the waiter and drop a few high bills on the table, and then he had grabbed your hand and interweaved your fingers, gently leading you out of the restaurant.

“I thought I was ready for it.” You clutched the cheap coffee cup in your hand and shifted in the passenger’s seat of his sleek black range rover, the heat from the fan blasting toward you. “I was ready, and then I saw you-“

“I did walk into the glass window.” Steve’s lips twitched as he dug into the cheap brown bag and stabbed the fork into the greasy pile of cheese and gravy-covered fries. “I ended up spilling my coffee on myself.”

“I know. I…I was ready for today and then that kiss, and then the…hotel-“

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” Steve studied you from the corner of his eyes, his gaze dropping to your lips as the urgency to kiss you again had risen within him.

“One day, it had only been one day, and I had a breakdown.” You scoffed and raised the cup to your lips; the shifting of your emotions again had brought you a place of reflection.

“Hey,” Steve reached for your hand and squeezed gently, his thumb brushing over the rise and fall of your knuckles, “you don’t need to apologize. Not to me. And not for that kiss. It felt-“

“Like it had been a long time in the making?” You had smiled small, your fingers on your right hand drumming against the side of the cup. “I wish I could paint again.”

“You miss it?” Steve had finished off the mess of greasy fries in the bag and then set them in the back on the floor. “Painting?”

“I told you that he didn’t want me to anymore..? John? He told me it was too expensive.” There was regret in your voice and a burning longing in his chest to find the asshole ex of yours and give him a clear message. “There were too many bills, he needed booze, smokes and then there was food. The list went on and on.”

“You should paint again.” Steve shifted in the driver’s seat and briefly looked away, casting his eyes upon the sight of the shoreline and the water that was lapping at the steep edge. “I still have it. The painting you did of me in high school. I have it tucked away.”

“You’re shitting me. Do you still have it? Why?” You had genuinely been surprised, and that was another marker that set you apart from the other women he knew.

“You were amazing, Y/N. You had such a talent and…the way you painted my picture….” Steve had rubbed the back of his neck as a blush caressed his cheeks. “You were the only one who saw me as someone other than the skinny kid no one wanted to date.”

“I did.” You answered honestly with a confession that felt like it had been building for years. “I wanted to…date you. I was…scared, though. I was a shy kid; I didn’t…wanna ruin our friendship. I regret it. I regret not taking the chance because if I had-“

“We can fix it.” Steve had turned toward you, studying the rises and falls off your face, committing the shadows and conforms of you to memory. “We could date now. Unless-“

“I want to.” You cleared your throat, your gaze fixated on the white rim of the cup. “God, I have spent ten years, the better part of ten years in love with you, and I thought I had lost my chance.”

“You’re not the only one. But we’re here now. We’re here, and we have a second chance.”

“You’re also my boss. Won’t that…cause issues?”

“Fuck them.” Steve had drawn his hand away from the console between you and snaked his hand around to the back of your neck. “Fuck them all. It doesn’t matter what they think.”

“Fuck them.” You mumbled in reply against his lips as you leaned forward and closed the distance.

“Would you finally like to go on a date with me?” Steve asked, tilting his head and bumping the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’ve been waiting ten years to hear that.” Your eyes fluttered closed as the pressure of his lips on yours had drawn you together again.

“I’m not letting you go this time.” It was a promise sealed with a kiss.

#ceo!steve rogers imagines angst #ceo!steve rogers imagine angst #ceo!ari levinson x reader smut #ceo!ari levinson x reader fluff #ceo!steve rogers x reader smut #ceo!steve rogers x reader #ceo!steve rogers #steve rogers imagines angst #steve rogers imagines fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogersx reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader #you always you series #you always you masterlist #you always you #you always you part 9

98 notes · View notes

louisianaspell · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

AN: Hey! So it’s been a minute since I’ve posted a fic, I’m not even sure I’m still considered a writer at this point. Anyway, here’s a little something and I hope it’s okay and that you guys enjoy it!

It hasn’t been beta’d or proofread, so there’s probably some issues. Forgive me

This is my submission for @syntheticavenger ‘s How It Started - How It’s Going 5K Challenge

Congrats on the 5k @syntheticavenger 💖🥳🎉

I was given the situation: Furious at your car being wrecked during an Avengers fight

Warnings: cussing, non con groping (mentions), mentions of violence (not against reader), run in with police (brief mention)

I think that’s it, but please let me know if anything else needs to be tagged.

Enjoy!

“Yes, I understand that, but that’s not what my policy says… What?! How can it be an act of god? A man literally threw my car!… You can’t be serious, you really consider any damage caused by Thor to be an act of god?… Yea, no. I get that he’s called the god of thunder, but he’s technically a fucking alien and my policy covers that and anything caused by heroes and villains... Well that’s just great, thanks for nothing.”

You end the call, let out a frustrated scream and throw your phone across the room, thankfully it landed safely on your couch. A majority of your one day off was spent on the phone with your insurance company, getting transferred from one department to another, and being put on hold for twenty minutes, all because Thor decided to use your car as a weapon against some invading alien force. While you’re thankful that the Avengers were able to save the day, it wasn’t so great finding out that you had to pay towing fees because of where your car landed, and now finding out that your insurance wasn’t going to pay out because it was Thor who threw your car, had it been Iron Man or any other Avenger then of course your insurance would have gladly paid. So much for being like a good neighbor.

Full of righteous anger and channeling the souls of a thousand Karens, you gather up and shove all of your paperwork into your purse and march down to the Avengers tower, determined to make someone there pay for your damages. Somehow the universe was determined to keep you in a shitty mood as a man continuously grabbed your ass on the train ride, it only took three stops before you found yourself hitting him with your purse while screaming profanities about consent and personal space. You're sure you probably looked and sounded like a crazy person.

Afterwards you’re forced to walk several blocks to the Avengers tower, because even though it was completely justified, the cops kicked you off the train instead of Mr. Grabby Hands. Fuck the police. You try your best to look at the bright side, maybe a nice long walk will give you enough time to cool down a bit and not bite the head off some poor receptionist that’s just doing their job.

Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. The entrance of the Avengers Tower stands before you, only a glass door etched with the Avengers logo stands between you and hopefully some financial compensation for Thor throwing your car like a damn frisbee. As you open the door, even before you feel the cool air of the building’s air conditioning hit you, you crash into what feels like a brick wall. A brick wall and what smells like a pineapple and mango smoothie.

“What in the actual living fuck?!” You yell, as you look down at the orange colored drink dripping down your chest. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”

Two shocked super soldiers and Captain America himself, Sam Wilson, stand before you, apologies flowing from the three men like a waterfall. In your anger, it takes you a moment to realize that Bucky Barnes had taken off his shirt and was using his shirt to try and clean up the mess.

Your anger starts to fade as you watch a shirtless Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, rubbing your chest with his discarded shirt, spouting apologies in several different languages. It’s one of those moments that feels like it lasts forever but in reality it’s only a few seconds.

The sound of Steve Rogers clearing his throat and Sam Wilson’s attempt at holding back his laughter is what breaks the spell between you and Bucky, it’s not long before he starts apologizing for touching you, telling you how much he respects women, and offering to pay to have your shirt dry cleaned, even offering his own ruined shirt to you. As you watch the famed assassin trip over his words trying to fix the situation and awkwardly rant, it’s strange to say this about someone you just met, especially one that was practically giving you a breast exam on a busy New York sidewalk, but it was like every part of you was telling you that this gorgeous bumbling man was The One™️

—//—//—//—

“…and that’s how I met your father.”

“So if uncle Thor didn’t break your car, you wouldn’t have met daddy?” your daughter, Lucy, sleepily asked.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Bucky answers, tucking her in, “and he loves to brag about it, I bet if you ask him about it next time you see him, he’ll tell you all about it”

Lucy sleepily nods as she drifts off into sleep, you place a kiss on her forehead and wish her sweet dreams, Bucky does the same before you both leave her room and make your way to your shared bedroom.

“She really loves hearing that story doesn’t she?” Bucky asks as you both get into bed.

“It's a sweet story, me as the angry beast being soothed by you, the beauty, of the tale” you chuckle, “plus, it’s always fun telling her that you have no game whatsoever,” you laugh.

Bucky tries to act offended, “Hey now, I do too have game, I landed you, didn’t I?”, but he can’t hide that smile of his, the one that still makes your heart flutter.

“You did, with the help of a smoothie that let you get to second base in front of the Avengers tower before learning my name,” you tease. “Was that your secret to getting all the pretty dames back in the forties?” You laugh

“What is it that you young people say these days? Don't hate the player, hate the game, baby.”

#synths5kfollowerchallenge #howitstartedhowitsgoingchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan fanfiction

134 notes · View notes

smallblip · 3 years

Text

You asked, I deliver! Part II of Accidental baby acquisition💖 I lost one of the asks 😩 but anon who asked about baby Udo, I named the baby in your honour! Saddle up cowboys! I’m not good with sequels but here we are-

Babygate:

the scandal that implies that a certain boy band member cheated on his partner (another band member) and had a kid even when the mom was never pregnant.

- urban dictionary

—

Reiner thinks things are alright. Life is definitely picking up. Pieck still sends him excerpts of her dirty fanfiction to proofread, Bertholdt is still doing all he can to “retire at 30”, Annie might have eloped with said boyfriend. But he’s seeing Porco on the regular now, he’s really cute, he’s got a nice ass. Reiner can’t complain.

He’s also recently donated his Levi Ackerman standee. Only because it’s getting increasingly hard to reconcile the fact that he has a life sized cutout of his colleague’s boyfriend in his room.

What he can complain about is said colleague (and friend) dropping bombs on him. He’s one of the moderators of one of the bigger No Name servers. Sometimes he wonders if that’s a conflict of interest because, well, he knows the guy on a first name basis. But today he has other concerns. He sees his notifications blowing up and decides to go on the No Name server. And lo and behold. There’s a paparazzi shot of Levi and Hanji with a stroller taking a walk in a new channel called “MYSTERY FAMILY?”.

He cancels his plans with Porco. “Don’t text me for the next few hours, got a fire to fight.” He clicks send, and feels kinda bad, so he sends Porco really dank meme to appease him. (That doesn’t stop Porco from doing exactly what Reiner told him not to do and demanding an explanation every five minutes).

He forces himself to take a deep breath before texting Hanji-

“Hanji… I don’t mean to be rude but…

WHAT THE FUCK?”

—

So here begins babygate. A conspiracy theory that took the Internet by storm.

“Levi Ackerman had a secret marriage! He was keeping this from us from the start!”

“It’s a publicity stunt to keep No Name relevant during their hiatus!”

“It’s an elaborate scheme by the company to punish Levi for announcing the hiatus without their knowledge!”

“Levi’s mystery partner was sent by the lizard people to take control of his mind and produce half-lizard, half-human hybrid babies to take over the world! What a bitch!” (This is Hanji’s favourite).

And the internet’s favourite- this is all an elaborate scheme to cover up the scandalous love affair between Levi and Eren- the band’s guitarist.

“What the fuck?” Levi had said during dinner once, to which Reiner had to swallow his food and pretend he never read or actively looked up ereri content. Yes. Reiner knows the name of their ship.

Levi hadn’t been too worried before, but when pictures of them shopping for baby stuff leaked online, something snaps. Something snaps and Erwin tells him he needs more time to figure out the biggest PR crisis in No Name history.

It’s Levi. Levi is the PR crisis.

So in the meantime, no shock reveals, no more social media, (if possible) no more leaving the house with pregnant girlfriend in tow. “Don’t do ANYTHING.” Erwin had said, “especially not you!” Erwin had directed that at Eren, who suggested he makes an announcement. Erwin shudders. He remembers all the past scandals they got themselves into just because Eren, bless him, didn’t know when to shut up.

“I’m sorry…” Levi says to Hanji when they’re cuddled up on the couch watching a documentary on whale migration.

“Huh?” Hanji says, voice muffled through her incessant sniffling because “whales are delivered tail first, Levi! They wear their mothers like hats!”

He apologises for putting her through the mess that is him and his job. And Hanji smiles at him. He wonders if their kid will look like her. He’s hoping they would.

“Levi…” Hanji sighs, taking his face in her hands, “that night at the bar I thought to myself ‘this man has a face I would risk it all for’… I think this counts within the realms of ‘all’”

Levi scoffs, but a smile is threatening the corners of his lips. Erwin’s nagging over the phone fades a little and he sinks a little lower into the couch. He sighs one more time for good measure before saying-

“So… you wanna know which my favourite babygate theory is?”

—

“And you’re really not bothered by all this?” Reiner asks, in an emergency meeting that he had scheduled into her calendar. He hates that he’s packing things into her already busy schedule when she’s about to pop but, he figures it’s better now than when the baby’s actually out. He had booked a meeting room and everything, figuring if he projected some of the crazy shit they’re saying on the fan boards up on screen, Hanji would start taking this seriously. Because if Reiner knows anything, it’s that the fans will do anything to keep their ship afloat.

He scrolls past another post on the lizard people and Hanji gets him to pause.

“I mean… A little?” Hanji pinches her fingers together.

“Hanji…” Reiner sighs, “you and Levi discuss and rate babygate conspiracy theories you find online I don’t think you’re taking this seriously at all…”

Hanji looks at Reiner- an absolute state of panic. And she considers panicking for a moment. She’s read articles dissecting babygate and although they’re absolutely batshit, Hanji appreciates how well-researched they are. Which is a little scary. To be fair to Levi, he’s been trying to get her to worry. “I can’t keep you safe all the time, you have to be careful” like he’s going off to war somewhere. But it’s not in Hanji nature to worry about things like this. She’s a researcher at a lab who lived an ordinary life up until the point the universe hit her with a-

Sike! Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy! What are you gonna do about it?

And now she knows what headcanons and lemons are, and she really doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge. So Hanji decides, she’ll do nothing. She’ll go on indulgently long walks Levi in tow, she’ll talk his ear off about work. And like a good girlfriend, she’ll listen to his demos (and enjoy them) and tell him “are you sure anger rhymes with danger?”.

“I don’t really know how to worry about anything beyond our samples getting contaminated…” Hanji says, sheepish. Reiner sighs. He doesn’t want to be a wet blanket on Hanji’s life. He wants to be fun Reiner. Cool as a cucumber. Reiner who manages to make it through dinner at Hanji’s without having to excuse himself to hyperventilate in her bathroom because Levi is right there. And he’s so afraid that he might just be able to read his mind and find out he had looked up Levi Ackerman x y/n fanfiction once in his foolish youth (youth being approximately four months back)

Reiner shudders.

“Yeah okay… That’s um… That’s cool… Right?” He says.

Hanji shrugs.

—

So Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy. Now what?

You go into labour of course, with a matter of fact- “oh. Look Levi. The water broke.” All while refusing to leave the house until you demolish that amazing sandwich he made for you. You go into labour and you yell and grunt like a beast as you squeeze the life out of your baby daddy because he kinda deserves it. You both kinda deserve this pain. Take it as heavenly punishment for being horny and stupid if you will.

And in the middle of it Hanji thinks huh, this feels like a mix of a reality TV show from MTV and a badly written fanfiction. Except Hanji isn’t a teen mom and she’s too old for self-insert fiction that involves a lead singer of a popular band.

But Levi is here, and he doesn’t complain one bit even though he looks like he’s about to pass out. So as far as drunken one night stands go- this is pretty damn aspirational.

The baby enters the world with a huge cry.

“Kid’s got a huge set of lungs…” Levi says, but his own voice is quivering.

“Just like her dad…” Hanji smiles.

As he watches Hanji fall asleep with their baby on her chest, Levi thinks fuck it. Fuck keeping this under wraps. Fuck the fans and them enjoying how Eren gets on his nerves. Fuck Erwin and his “Levi. You’re giving me a headache. You are the cause of this headache.” Because the baby has Hanji’s nose and his eyes and he loves them more than anything in the world.

He snaps a picture of them and tags bigdaddyzoë-

“Welcome to the world, my love.”

—

Reiner can’t help the tears that well in his eyes after seeing the picture Hanji had sent him of the baby-

“He says hi to his favourite uncle!” Was the caption, and Reiner could only reply with a crying cat meme and an incoherent text that Hanji favourites.

He’s on the bus on the way to the hospital when his phone buzzes incessantly. It’s Porco.

“REINER WHAT THE FUCK.”

“LEVI ACKERMAN IS HANJI ZOË’S BABY DADDY?”

“HANJI ZOË MY PHD SUPERVISOR?”

“LEVI ACKERMAN OF NO NAME?”

“REINER WHAT THE FUCK?”

He sends a reply at the entrance of the hospital-

“Welcome to my world”

—

Reiner thinks things are alright. He’s one of the moderator of one of the bigger No Name servers, so he can block and remove people at his discretion. Some days he lets it get to his head. It makes him feel like a king. But today, he’s putting out fires.

Erwin decided their PR strategy was absolutely no strategy, because “they’re zooming in on the pixels Levi. Once they doubt the pixels, they won’t believe anything we’re saying”. With that. Babygate has officially taken on a life of its own. Eren still sends Levi babygate articles to annoy him, and to Hanji because she asked very nicely. Hanji thinks Erwin’s strategy makes sense, Levi thinks it’s just lazy. But Erwin framed a certificate that says “survived a PR crisis (sort of)” that Hanji had insisted be hung up on their wall, so that closes one chapter. Besides, Eren has been spotted going out on dates with a mystery girl. Which has the double effect of diverting attention away from Levi and exacerbating babygate because “see? Told you the company’s doing all they can to prove they’re not together!”

“Can’t you keep it in your pants?” Levi had thrown at Eren, to which he had responded cleverly with a-

“Could’ve said the same for you!”

Touché…

“See? That can’t be Levi! Look at how he’s smiling!”

“That can’t be a baby! Looks like an animatronic to me!”

“Do they even make animatronics that realistic?”

Reiner pins his “no slander” rule- one day they’ll get it. Or at least he would’ve gotten rid of all the people that don’t.

“Who’s this bigdaddyzoë anyway?”

“Maybe she isn’t real? Company probably invented her…”

“Heard she’s a crazy groupie who got knocked up…”

“Heard she’s hot…”

… several people are typing

—

“So… I heard from Reiner you were defending my honour in the server?” Hanji quirks an eyebrow.

Levi shrugs. Whatever goes down in the server stays between Leviackerman173810 (leviackerman and all 173809 permutations of said username had already been taken) and the hundreds of people who haven’t quite figured out he’s the real deal. Besides, Erwin has issued him three warnings so it’s best to lay low for now.

“My hero…” Hanji chuckles, pressing a kiss on Levi’s head. Below them, baby Udo wriggles and yawns against the fabric of Levi’s shirt. Cute.

So Levi Ackerman is your baby daddy. Now what? You look at your son and know he’s going to break hearts like his father of course. And if you’re Levi, you pray to god he never asks about babygate because Hanji has read up enough about it to be considered a connoisseur.

One day the internet will break when they find out the identity of bigdaddyzöe. But for now baby Udo has his parents wrapped around his tiny fingers and he doesn’t quite understand the concept of him being the spawn of every typical band member x y/n fanfiction. Or the centre of a very popular, very absurd, yet strangely believable internet conspiracy theory. Or the canon plot that has sunk one of the biggest No Name ships. And that’s okay.

#babygate was a 1D conspiracy theory #levihan #whoopwhoop!#levi x hange #levi x Hanji #Drabble #inbox #anon #mine #again Pieck is me #un beta-Ed I’m sure it’s full of mistakes #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #hange Zoë #celebrity au

136 notes · View notes