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#Distressed Flannel
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Sanford and Son's Salvage Yard Distressed Flannel Shirt
This item is for a one-of-a-kind bleached "Sanford and Son's Salvage" flannel shirt. A perfect flannel shirt for any Sanford and Son fan!
CONDITION: All of our flannel shirts are brand new and washed twiced.
No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.
SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.
FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.
COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.
Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.
Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.
Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!
Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.
Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.
#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt - #TVsitcom
This item is for a one-of-a-kind bleached "Sanford & Son's Salvage" flannel shirt.
No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.
SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.
FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.
COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.
Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.
Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.
Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!
Thank you for visiting Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations, we truly appreciate your support of small businesses. We also personalize our products, please reach out to us with any personalizing any of our products, additional fee's may apply.
Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com to view more products.
#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt - #TVsitcom
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ilovenycee · 18 days
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differentcoloredkids · 11 months
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ONE TANDY BOWEN SCREENCAP PER EPISODE (Cloak & Dagger: Season 1)
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denim-bias · 6 months
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y0urbestie · 1 year
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Im not wearing all black this is more dysphoria inducing than wearing lingerie and a dress or whatever.
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Feminine looking women but with masculine energy.. pls ruin my life
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flannelclothing · 7 months
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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[Chapter 16] || [Chapter 18]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're getting there.
Gaz's outfit is 100% a rip off of this fanart by the lovely @temeyes.
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Chapter 17: Guard Dogs
You don’t exactly know what you did to deserve this.
You really don’t.
You went on Tinder one time. One night after work.
So why the fuck do you have three men lurking around you like guard dogs?
Ever since the Ethan incident last Friday, they’ve been taking turns going to pick you up at work and walking you home.
Monday - Kyle
Tuesday - Simon
Wednesday - Kyle
Thursday - Simon
It wouldn’t be so bizarre if it weren’t for the fact that people (especially your coworkers) stare when there’s suddenly men waiting for you after work… 
Especially when one of them is a 6ft4 man that’s built like a fridge, giving everyone copious amounts of side-eye as they walk out.
And then you wonder why they ask you get asked questions the next morning.
Today, Friday, you exit work to see not one, not two, but all three of them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. They look frankly adorable, all beaming at you as you come out of work and preening themselves a bit.
Kyle’s on the far left, wearing a cream-colored hoodie with a blue flannel shirt atop, black cargo pants and white and black Air Jordans. The hoodie is pulled up over his hair and his hands are tucked into the pocket of his hoodie.
Simon’s next to him, in the center, wearing black boots, jeans and a black parka with an inner pollar layer that’s zipped up all the way, so as to cover his mouth, in lieu of his usual mask. His hair is sticking up all over and you just know he put hairgel on it. 
Johnny’s on Simon’s other side, the far right, and wearing a pair of distressed blue jeans, a shaggy burgundy Ramones t-shirt and an unzipped grey hoodie jacket. Just like Kyle, he’s also wearing some Nikes and they’re so pristine and clean you’d swear he’s gotten them from the box a minute ago.
“Hi…?” You said in surprise as you adjusted the sling of your laptop bag on your shoulder.
“Hey!” Johnny greeted you.
“Hi, lovie.” Kyle said with a beaming smile.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Simon said simply and nodded upwards at you.
“What are you… doing?” You trailed off as you came to stand in front of them, your eyes going back and forth between them.
“Couldn’t decide who should come get you. So we decided to both come” Simon told you sincerely. “And since the two of us were coming, Johnny wanted to tag along.” He added.
“Why are ye talking like I’m a puppy that couldn’t be left at home by myself?” Johnny said with raised brows.
“Because you were begging for us to take you with.” Kyle retorted from Simon’s other side.
“Go fuck yourselves.” Johnny added. “You look nice.” He complimented you with a boyish grin.
“In my work uniform?” You retorted as you looked at him with a playful look of disbelief.
“Aye.” He replied. “Always love seein’ someone all knackered and sweaty after work.” He admitted.
“Johnny are you flirting?” Simon asked and he gave Johnny a look that could kill someone.
“Aye.” Johnny replied with a mischievous look in his eyes and pursed his lips together. “Is that forbidden now?”
“Mate…” Kyle quipped, his tone a soft warning.
“What? They already got two blokes after them, can have another one.” Johnny remarked with the same casualty of someone saying they ‘might as well have another biscuit from the box’.
You blinked away the surprise at the flirting. It was still bizarre to have one man like Simon interested… And you felt overwhelmed to have Kyle on top of it… And now Johnny too?
“Okay, erm… So… let’s go?” You announced and turned to start marching up the street to work before anyone could say anything else.
The guys followed behind you wordlessly, in a formation lead by Simon… like you were a mother duck and they were your ducklings… Or, rather, like they were your pack of guar dogs.
-
You’re standing by the door of your kitchen feeling like a guest in your own flat. 
Kyle and Simon are cooking… without even being asked. You stopped by the shop and they immediately announced they’d cook for you and… now they are.
Johnny’s sitting at the dining table behind you, sprawled open and sipping a can of Monster he got himself at the shop when you were all there.
“Okay, what’s up with you?” You announced as you watched the two men move about your kitchen as they made your meal. Simon’s was first in charge of chopping and dicing things… and now he’s in charge of frying… something, while Kyle takes care of basically everything else.
“What do you mean, lovie?” Kyle asks as he turns to glance at you while stirring something.
“You all came to pick me up together… And now you’re cooking for me…” You trail off as your nails clink a bit against the glass of wine they poured you. “What’s going on?”
“You’re adorably annoying with how perceptive you are, you know that?” Simon asks as he glances back at you as well before plucking something out of the frying pan and to a dish on the side. The oil sizzles loudly when he puts something else down to fry.
“Thank you.” You say with a playfully smug tone as you shift around. “But you didn’t answer the question.” You remark.
“After dinner, alright?” He answers and Kyle makes some sounds of agreement.
“They want to be yer boyfriends, officially.” Johnny says behind you and it causes you to whip around to look at him… Which also made Kyle drop whatever he was holding, in shock.
“SOAP!” Both Simon and Kyle shout, scolding the Scot who’s sitting at the table with a broad grin on his lips.
“You… You do?” You ask as you turn to look at them, mouth parted in surprise.
“Yeah...” Kyle replies as he looks at you. 
Simon simply nods and turns away to focus on the food he’s frying.
“I… I’m honored…” You admit and feel your cheeks warming up so bright you fear you’ll start sweating. “I…”
“I’d like a shot at it too, if ye don’t mind.” Johnny adds. Once again, all eyes turn to Johnny with another ‘JOHNNY?!’ which causes him to laugh.
“I’m serious.” He replies. “I’ll gladly date ye too.” He adds.
Your eyes widen. “You-”
“Mhm.” He adds.
“No.” Simon replies as he turns around once more.
“What do you mean ‘no’, L.T.?” Johnny asks in exaggerated offense.
“I mean, I don’t wanna date you.” Simon adds.
“I- Wait.” Now it’s Johnny’s time to get flustered. “Date me?” Poor lad, his whole face warms up bright red.
“Y-Yeah… Kyle and Simon kiss each other sometimes.” You announce and out of the corner of your eye you catch both of the other men stiffening up.
“I KNEW IT. I FOOKIN’ KNEW IT!” Johnny jumps up to his feet, spilling his Monster can on the table. “Ah, shite!” He says as he scrambles to pick it up again before it spills too much.
“What do you mean you knew it?!” Simon asks in shock.
“I KEN YE LIKE EACH OTHER! SAW THE WAY YOU SHARE THOSE COY LOOKS BETWEEN YE!!” Johnny shouts as he points a finger at the two men.
You’re pretty sure they’re all blushing now, you included.
“We didn’t share any looks!” Simon says defensively.
“DID TOO!” Johnny insists. “AND I TAKE OFFENSE TO YE NOT WANTING TO DATE ME, L.T.!” He adds. “I THOUGHT YE LIKED ME!”
Your eyes widen and you move your head side to side trying to keep up with the banter between them as Johnny marches his way into the kitchen so him and Simon can keep bickering.
“Are they always like this?” You find yourself asking Kyle, your eyes widened as they shout your house down.
“Yeah… This is a tame day for them actually. Should hear how they are on comms during missions.” He leans over to whisper in your ear.
“Ah…” You say softly. “I don’t know if I can handle dating this all the time.” You quip playfully, making Kyle laugh.
“You’ll get used to it.” He adds.
As you two continue watching the two men arguing, during which Simon is still, somehow, still tending to the food… You find yourself sneaking little pieces of carrot from the salad Kyle’s making.
Only to stop chewing halfway and let your piece of carrot fall right out of your hands when Johnny suddenly grabs Simon by his face and plants a big kiss right on the taller man’s lips. No warning.
At that moment, Simon looks every bit like Kyle did when they kissed for the first time. Perfectly statue-like still, eyes widened, both hands hanging in the air as if he was frozen…
Johnny’s hands are wrapped around Simon’s face, his palms over his ears, and fingers in his blonde hair, their mouths pressed together…
And then Simon comes back from the trance he’s in and his hands wrap around Johnny’s head too, his fingers digging into the back of his mohawk as their tongues battle together.
“Jesus Christ…” Kyle replies next to you, voicing your exact thoughts.
Once they pull apart, both the men are blushing red and out of breath, eyes widened.
“Ye’ll date me now?” Johnny replies.
Simon doesn’t reply, he simply turns around to finish cooking.
“I think that’s a yes.” You finally announce, finding your voice softly.
Johnny turns to look at you and smirks. “From him or from you?” He asks with a cocked brow.
“Both.” Simon quips with his back turned.
“I think that was the hottest kiss I ever witnessed.” Kyle says softly.
“I’ll give ye a smooch too, don’t get jealous, Gary.” Johnny quips and winks at Kyle.
Then, the Scot grabs a paper towel from the roll and walks toward the door to go mop up the spilled Monster from the table.
But not before he cups Kyle’s face and stealing a peck off his lips…
Then, he does the same to you… before licking his lips at the end. 
“Your wine’s tasty.” He adds, before slinking back out of the room.
You’re left blinking away the shock with an equally stunned Kyle next to you… And you’re pretty sure Simon’s stunned too…
Meanwhile, Johnny’s giggling to himself in the living room.
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
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toxicanonymity · 5 months
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being bad and looking good.
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2.8k, raider!Joel (dark) x f!reader | Raider Master SUMMARY: You look hot but get punished for acting up. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe P in V, possessive Joel, creampie, manhandling, angst, joel makes you cry, rough, spanking, choking. He's a bad guy, not a kink practitioner: no rules. He cares, and you enjoy the dique, but you're captive. A/N: HYPOTHETICAL because I didn't want to figure out where to place it in the timeline. Set vaguely in the past. This is for a lingerie ask as well as readers who have requested feral/mad Joel or sweet pea being bad. @javier-penas-wifexx420 @arcanefox207 IMMERSABILITY: Reader has hair that can be held/pulled. Joel can lift reader. Reader has no height/size, so fill in the blanks for whether he has to bend his knees to enter you, etc.
Joel lets it slip how close the abandoned mall is, and you can't stop thinking about going there. You want to get something for him.  He always brings you things and you never have anything to give him other than food you've foraged and flowers for the trailer. One day, you insist it would be fine with Joel if you go to the mall. You make it sound like you've discussed it. Carter is skeptical, but he feels bad for you. He finally breaks down and agrees to take you. 
When you're there, you're walking through the mall and notice Carter's head turn all the way toward a particular storefront as you walk by. You wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. He keeps the same stride, but you slow down to look.
It's a lingerie store. Most of the mannequins are bare or have clothes hanging off them, but there are huge, fading posters with women of all shapes and sizes sporting lace teddies, babydolls, bralettes, strappy garters, and the floor is littered with them. 
Carter sighs when he realizes you've stopped at the store. 
As he slowly walks back to you, scratching the back of his neck, you ask, “Do you think Joel would like it if I had something from here?” The question feels almost rhetorical, but there's that bit of insecurity, too. 
“Uh, I dunno. Sure, I guess.” Carter doesn't seem comfortable. He agrees to let you go in for just a minute to see if you find something, but you have to stay in view. And you think you do. It's a two piece with a sheer, strappy top. The bottom is more modest than a thong, but it has a slit in the crotch that makes you clench your thighs together thinking about Joel.
—-
When you get home, you put it on in the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror. You think it looks good, but it's not a full-length view. And you're not quite sure if it's fitting right. How much tit is supposed to be showing? How tight should it be? You put the flannel back on, but leave it open when you come out. You feel a little more covered than you are, since the nature of the fabric shows a lot. 
Carter's sitting at the kitchen table casually shuffling a deck of cards.  He looks at you for only a split second before his face hardens, and he abruptly looks away. “Jesus,” he drops the cards on the table, and the chair groans against the floor as he stands up. “The hell are ya doin’?” he awkwardly turns around, pulling up on his pants a little. 
“I just wanna know if it looks-”
“--'m sure it looks great,” Carter runs his hands through his hair in distress as he looks out the window.  Then, he tightly crosses his arms, and they stretch his sleeves even more. “Now get outta here,” he tells you. He rocks forward onto his toes, then back, waiting for you to leave. 
Is he mad? You step further into the kitchen and try to meet his eyes in the reflection. 
His voice is stern. “Go put some goddamn clothes on.” 
“Sorry, I wasn't–”
“Now.” He means it. You stand there stunned for a moment with your lip quivering. He's never been angry at you before. 
“NOW.” He points toward Joel's room, veins bulging on his hand and arm. He doesn't turn around to look at you, but you see the flush from his cheeks creeping onto his neck and ears.  
You go to your room and sniffle as you button the flannel. Then you put on a pair of shorts, curl up on the bed, and cry. 
After a few minutes, there's a soft knock on the bedroom door. “Ya’okay?” 
You only sniffle, “I'm sorry,” in response. 
Carter sighs. “I shouldn'ta snapped at ya, darlin’. But ya just – can't do that, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Shit, you're a pretty girl, okay? But it ain't my business how ya look. . .in somethin’ like that.” 
“. . .I know, I wasn't thinking.”
“Now, if you're dressed and wanna play rummy, I’ll deal. . .”
You smile to yourself through your tears. 
—--
You dry your eyes and come out to the kitchen, but something in the air is different as you pull out a chair and sit down.
“Carter, please forget it,” you plead and try to get him to look at you. It feels like you broke something.
He finally makes eye contact and forces a little smile. Then he concentrates on the cards as he deals. “Two, two, three, three,” he counts the cards out loud for each of you as he deals. He finishes, and while you're studying the hand you’re dealt, it's quiet. In the corner of your eye, Carter's gaze falls to your now fully-covered chest, but he quickly pulls his eyes away and looks straight down, fidgeting with his cards. You feel awful. What if he can’t look at you the same? It was stupid to try to show him. Of course it would look good to Joel, he likes everything on (and off) you.
______
When Joel gets home, you're in the bedroom alone, sitting on the bed in the lingerie and flannel. As he enters through the kitchen, his boots are heavy on the linoleum. Your heart races with a moment of doubt - how are you going to explain this? But he bursts in the room grumbling, “goddamn Harold, tryin’ to get us all killed.”  He takes his shirt off over his back, tosses it to the laundry, and looks at you. He pauses and devours the view for a few seconds before he slowly approaches, chest heaving.
He looms over you as you sit on the bed. He uses both hands to nudge the flannel off your shoulders, and it pools behind you. You take your arms out of it. He grabs a tit and rests his other hand on the nape of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your skull. His chest lets out a low growl as he feels you. Then his fingers trail up the strap on one shoulder. He plucks it and it snaps against your skin.
Joel’s face darkens as he asks, “Where’d it come from?” When you don’t answer fast enough, his hand traces up your throat. A chill spreads across your chest. His thumb brushes the side of your neck, then slides over to lift your chin and make you look at him. “Where.”
“I wanted to do something you’d like.”
“Where,” he repeats, then clenches his jaw, waiting. 
“You said the mall wasn’t far, so–”
He raises his voice. “You went to the mall? Where was Carter?”
“It’s okay, he was there, even found a part for the van in the parking lot.” 
Joel’s nostrils flare, and he grips your jaw. “Carter took you to the mall.” 
Your eyes water with panic. “No, it wasn’t his idea--”
“To buy somethin’ like this.” 
“I wanted to get you something. I didn’t know they had this stuff —”
“He's got no business takin’ ya anywhere. And sure as hell not somewhere sexy.”
You're worried for Carter and grateful he’s not around. “I swore the mall was okay, that you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know there was somewhere sexy,” your voice trails off. 
Joel shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “You don't say what's okay. You don't KNOW what's okay. Get up.” 
He forces you to your feet then turns you around.
“I thought you'd like it,” you sniffle. “You always do things for me.”
“He grabs your ass, lifting your butt cheek and lets it drop. He clicks his tongue. “well, I sure don't like how ya got it.”
“I'm sorry”
“Think ya need a reminder who's in charge here.”
“I know,” you sniffle in agreement, sensing what's coming. He sits down on the bed and manhandles you into lying face down over his knees. You feel a twinge of arousal even before he shifts your position and your hip brushes the hard shape in his jeans. 
You hold your breath as he brings his hand back, then it lands with a sting and you yelp at the force. You bury your mouth in your arm as he brings his hand back again. He repeats it on the other cheek and you let out a muffled whimper that sounds more aroused than you should be. 
“Like bein’ bad?” He asks, then spanks you again. 
“No.” 
His hand lands with a sting one more time and stays on your skin to grab the plush of your burning skin. “Ya like this?”
“. . .I dunno,” you whimper, unsure of the right answer.
He feels between your legs, his thick finger finding  a damp slit in the cotton crotch of the lacy underwear. He slips a finger inside the garment, giving you a shock of need when his knuckle nudges your dripping hole.  “Ya do, don't ya? Get up.” He grabs your arm and stands up, forcing you to your feet. He holds your hair and stares you down sternly. “This ain't for fun, baby, it's your safety” He lets go of your hair and looms closer. “Understand?”
You nod and reflexively back up. Something tells you it's not just about your safety. 
“AND Carter's. You tryin' to make me hurt’m?” He asks. Joel gets closer and you keep backing up toward the wall. 
“No,” you sob. “Please don't. He’s good, so good, he wouldn't even look at me. He respects you so much”
A new rage flashes across Joel's face and he lowers his voice. “He wouldn't . . .even . . .look at ya,” he mutters too calmly for your comfort. He takes a deep breath, looks you up and down again, puts his hand on your chest, fingers spread wide, and walks you harshly into the wall. His bare chest heaves. ”But ya gave him the chance, didn't ya,” Joel nods. You've dug your hole so much deeper. 
“I was only thinking about–” Joel’s hand comes to your neck as you croak out, “--you.” You don't know what you were thinking. Joel doesn't either. He slowly shakes his head, nostrils flaring. 
He pins you with his hips, and his hard cock digs into your front, making you gush.  
“Forget who ya belong to?”
“No,” you whimper. “I’m yours.”
He pulls his hips back and quickly unfastens his pants. You bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of his cock. It nudges under the bottom hem of the lingerie top to reach your body. You feel his skin hit your lower belly, and it makes you weak with desire. “Only wanna be yours.”
He kicks your feet apart to spread your legs, and he brings his lips to your hair. “Then ya do what I say. Understand?” 
“Yes sir,” you whisper, then he shoves his hand between your legs, using two fingers to spread the slit in the fabric of the crotch. 
“‘s’for your own good,” he adds. 
He nudges the slit with his cockhead. The fabric doesn’t open wide enough, so he rips the slit more, then you feel his tip at your wet little hole.  He holds his cock in line, then grabs your ass and shoves up into you all at once, bottoming out. The force makes your back and shoulders drag up the wall. With your feet now off the ground, your knees bend, cradling his hips. He holds you by your ass, adjusts your weight, and your back is against the wall. You balance your arms around his neck. His thick cock retreats then punches into you again. 
He's so thick, each time he pushes in, it feels like he’s taking up your whole body. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking past you. The grip of his fingers hurts enough to feel good, to feel his desperation, how much he has to have you–for him and only him. 
He grunts and growls and breathes heavily, stomach heaving against you. “You're mine, sweet pea.”
“I am,” you agree. 
“No one else can have ya.” His words get broken with the force of his thrusts.  “No one else can see ya.”
“I know.”
You moan as he buries his length in you roughly, and he mutters “goddamn,” tightening his grip on your ass. You’re overwhelmed by the fullness of his cock, his skin against yours, his breath in your hair, his body pinning you there. All of it makes your insides swell with mounting pleasure. 
“I love being yours,” you pant. 
He fucks you in relative silence for about two minutes, the room filled only with the sounds of his brutish grunts and unbridled sighs, your little moans and whimpers, and the squelch of his stiff cock pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.
He adjusts your weight and looks down at your body from time to time, letting your upper back rest against the wall as he rails into you. You’re reassured that he likes the fit, at least. Your legs wrap loosely around him. 
The pressure in your lower belly builds with each grunt, each thrust of his cock. Soon, his breath becomes shaky and the drag of his cock quickens. Then he bottoms out sharply with a groan, drawing a sigh from you as he begins to pulse. He thrusts into you slower, more controlled, and you rock slowly against the wall. The rhythmic swell of his shaft within your walls and the warm seed spilling from his tip make you clench around him. You moan his name, tighten your legs, and he sighs as your cunt chokes his cock. 
When his balls are empty, he slides out, and the fabric pulls with his cock as he withdraws and lets you down to the floor.
—-
Joel sighs, crams his wet cock into his pants, and fastens them again.
“You okay?” He asks, catching his breath. 
“Yeah,” you mutter. “Where are you going?”
“Gonna pay Carter a visit, down at the house.”
“Please, Joel, it was all my fault,” you beg. “Don’t do it.” 
“Ain’t gonna kill’m. This time.” You still don’t like the look on his face. 
You follow him across the room, reach for his arm, and your fingers land lightly on his inner elbow. He pauses, still without his shirt on, and looks down at your hand on his elbow. He turns around, reads your face, then goes over to the bed without a word. He sits and manspreads.  “I was desperate to make you happy,” you plead, fidgeting with the hem of your top.
Joel scrunches his face. “Ya do make me happy, sweet pea.”
“He didn't even wanna take me,” you insist.
“Then he’s gotta learn to say no.” 
You hesitantly come closer, unsure if he’ll turn you away, but he lets you between his legs, then you sit on his thigh and keep fidgeting with the hem of your top. 
“He says no all the time,” you assure Joel. 
“Does he,” Joel mutters skeptically.
“I made it like he would've been saying no to you.” 
Joel shakes his head, looking at your mouth. “That ain't right, but he knows better, baby.” 
“He yelled at me,” you offer, hoping it doesn't make things worse.
Joel's brow furrows and his tone sharpens. “Ya gotta stop lyin’, now. It's pissin’ me off.”
“I'm not! He was mad.”
“Oh yeah? What'd he yell?” 
“Told me to go away and put on some clothes.” 
Joel’s chin lifts to look at the ceiling and he takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “What the hell got into ya, huh?”
“I dunno,” you mumble. “Feel like I'm going crazy, stuck here all day.” Joel looks at you. “But you take good care of me,” you clarify, “and I love it here.” 
But that’s not what Joel’s thinking about. 
“Wanna fuck him? Suck his dick?”
“No!” You're on the verge of tears again. “God, Joel, please don't talk like that.” Your face is scrunched up in pain. 
“Then don't act like it.”
“I was–okay, I get it.”
Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, “What if I told ya to suck his dick?” 
“No!”
“You'd say no to me?” 
“I’d ask if I really have to.” 
Joel's face slowly softens, like you found the only acceptable answer. “And why’s that?”
“Cause I only want yours.” 
“Hm,” Joel nods. 
“Please, Joel. Stay here, don't go to him. . .you can talk to him tomorrow.”
You put your arms around Joel's neck and study his pensive face. Then you bury your head in his neck and whisper “Sorry.”  His hand slowly comes to your back. You dip your head and lightly brush your lips against his collar bone, then return your face under his jaw, and he nestles his head over yours. Your wet lashes blink against his skin, and his hand slowly slides on your back. Somehow, it feels like more comfort than you deserve. 
“Ok, baby,” he whispers and wraps both arms around you.
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if you wanna know whether Carter sees sweet pea that way, check out he's only human.
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Their present-day story will continue, but I don't have an ETA, sorry. Unless the next one gets split up, it'll have fluff, two moods of smut, angst.
I appreciate all your comments that let me know what you enjoy and what curiosities you have. Thank you so much for reading, and thanks for your support. Love you all.
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Text
Be Strong When You Are Weak, Brave When You Are Scared and Humble When You Are Victorious Distressed Flannel
One-of-a-kind bleached " Be Strong When You Are Weak. Brave When You Are Scared And Humble When You Are Victorious " high quality, affordable distressed flannel shirt.
No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.
SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.
FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.
COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.
Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.
All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.
After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!
Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!
Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!
Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.
LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!
website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop
facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/
instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/
goimagine.com/ https://goimagine.com/granny-and-grandpas-custom-creations/
pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations
WEDDINGS: We do take custom orders for weddings! If you are interested in ordering a large group of shirts, please message me directly to set up a custom order. It is recommended that wedding orders be placed at least 2 months in advance so that we have enough time to create, ship, and exchange any shirts that do not fit.
#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt
This item is for a one-of-a-kind bleached " Be Strong When You Are Weak. Brave When You Are Scared And Humble When You Are Victorious " high quality, affordable distressed flannel shirt.
No two shirts will ever be exactly alike so please aware and embrace the differences. All shirts are carefully curated, hand-dyed, and re-purposed so that each shirt is going to be different from the next in terms of color and plaid print.
SIZING: These shirts vary, many are unisex and come in men's sizing. They can be worn by both men & women. Ordering your normal t-shirt size is recommended for a regular fit. Going 1 size up works well for a baggy/oversized fit. Women's or Children's Specific sizing will be noted on the photo/variation options selected.
FABRIC: All these shirts are made of cotton or a cotton/poly blend. Measurements and thickness vary slightly by brand.
COLORS: Each flannel is unique, and no two shirts are going to look exactly alike. Colors are sent at random. Because the colors often change throughout the bleaching process, I cannot take specific color requests for these shirts.
Care instructions: Turn item inside out, machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry is recommended.
All items are created or designed by Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations. We also print and heat press our items using our professional, commercial grade heat press! Each design is made with High Quality, Heat Transfer Vinyl.
After a package leaves my hands with the post office, Granny & Grandpa's Custom Creations is not held responsible. Current Turnaround Time due to upcoming Holidays - 1-5 Business Days. While we always use priority shipping options, once shipped we cannot guarantee delivery due to the backlog current being experienced USPS/UPS/FedEx. If you have a strict deadline, please message me when ordering so that I can note any rush requests. Ownership of packages turned over to USPS transfers to the Buyer. We are not responsible for lost, held, damaged packages or delayed packages, once your package(s) leaves our Shop it is completely out of our control. Thank you for understanding!
Thank you so much for supporting our "small Granny & Grandpa's Shop", we truly appreciate YOU!
Please visit www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop to view more of our creations!
Due to different picture lighting settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.
LET’S GET SOCIAL & BE FRIENDS! Like, Tag & Follow us for Our new Creations, Inspiration & Giveaways!
website/ www.grannygrandpascustomcreations.com/shop
facebook.com/ https://www.facebook.com/GrandpaHandmadecreations/
instagram.com/ https://www.instagram.com/grannyandgrandpacustomcreation/
goimagine.com/ https://goimagine.com/granny-and-grandpas-custom-creations/
pinterest.com/https://www.pinterest.com/grannyscustomcreations
WEDDINGS: We do take custom orders for weddings! If you are interested in ordering a large group of shirts, please message me directly to set up a custom order. It is recommended that wedding orders be placed at least 2 months in advance so that we have enough time to create, ship, and exchange any shirts that do not fit.
#flannelshirt - #grannygrandpascustomcreations - #distressedflannelshirt
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tarjapearce · 8 months
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Unfit
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Warning: Just fluffin' and mild angst.
Summary: Mama isn't feeling well. Comfort ensues.
A/N: Was under the seasonal blues and wrote this. ~ Hugs if you're not doing that good as well. ❤️
Rain had been waning through the day only to return full force on bed time. Sometimes you wished to have Rosie's or Benjamin's deep sleep. Even Gabriella's. But all you could muster was to sit on the bed's edge and let the heavy emotional toll that had crept like a crawler in your head, to hang. Just like your head and your slumping shoulders.
Be it the weather or your recurrent thoughts about the many things that had transpired in your life to sit before you, in half a circle. Ready to throw their worst at your mind. You felt like being the object of their judging and scrutinizing gaze.
Family, followed by fears, next to it anxiety, and in the last seat, insecurities. Their presence alone had made you grip the bed's edge with such force you could feel the sturdy springs.
A shaky breath gave a green flag to your tears, allowing them to slid down your flushed cheeks. The past few days had been rough on your head, if not the whole week. But motherhood had grope you by the neck so tightly and kept you as busy as ever, you had forgotten on how to process your emotions correctly.
Ironic as it was you were always encouraging your own children and even Miguel to do so. And sometimes, like right now, your emotional needs were too loud to be neglected any further.
The rain's tempo increased, letting a rumble tear through the sky and light it up with a lightning. Miguel entered the room, slipping into a red flannel, his favorite, but stopped in his tracks upon seeing you.
Wobbly shoulders, silent sobs and sniffs and the sheets crumpled underneath your fisted hands on the mattress.
"Mi amor?"
His voice forced to wipe the tears instantly, allowing the cushioned surface to breath for a moment, and still you were unable to face him. The bed dipped behind you under his weight, his hand reached for your defeated shoulders, maneuvering you with such care and gentleness that had you at the brink of breaking again.
It was only when you were embraced by him, smothered in his arms and chest that you broke. His muscles tensed for a second upon hearing you so distressed. Had he done something? No. It wasn't him. It was something more complex than that.
He shushed you while his hands ran through your hair, reassuring, comfortingly smooth. His lips kissed your forehead, making the silent affirmation of being there for you. His other hands rubbed small circles on your back, coaxing the calm that had hid behind your surfacing messy feelings.
"Wanna talk about it?"
His voice a soft murmur. You nodded.
A few more tears were shed before you tried to settle the shaky and brokenness in your own voice at bay. Your nose sniffled as your lip quivered.
"I... I feel overwhelmed. Afraid and tired."
His thumbs wiped away the fresh tears and looked at you, coaxing you to continue.
"I feel so unfit in so many levels it's ridiculous." You heaved, trying to ease the knot in your throat, "I feel like I'm not being a good mother, that... Im not a good person to be around sometimes, so unfit for you."
He frowned but listened. Bloodshot eyes turning glossy once more
"I know you love me to death but... sometimes my head play such dirty tricks on me is stupid how easy I let them win." Your lids dropped for a moment before let your eyes resume their stare on him.
"I feel so overwhelmed at little things, that shouldn't have that effect on me. Cause you're always there, reminding me  of how amazing I am, but my brain it's simply unable to grasp around it."
The lump in your throat engorged, making it difficult to breath.
" I feel unfit for being a mother cause it's hard. I love my babies to death, but I can't help but feel that I'm slacking at something and... and...-"
His arms squeezed you gently and held you closer, hiding for a second your trembling face in the crook of his neck.
"I'm so sorry to be just bawling over stupid thoughts and making you stay up later than usual."
"Mi reina." His tone was firm, yet soft, fingers reached for your chin making you to gaze at him once more, "You have nothing to apologize for."
He sighed and removed an unruly strand out of your face.
"I sometimes feel this exact way too. I feel a shitty husband, that I'm not properly taking my role as your friend, and so many other similar things. But"
He inhaled, making you mimick him.
"By the end of the day they are nothing but thoughts. I know it's hard to fight them. Hell, feel kinda hypocritical right now by saying this but-" He smooched you.
"You are not your thoughts, cariño."
His words were the balm your broken spirit craved. And it craved it badly.
"I can't help but feel like every day is a bad day. Gabi has grown so fast I'm... starting to dread her teenage phase."
"We all have bad days. Today is one of them too, nothing wrong in that. And she'll be good. We've raised her well."
Your head was shaken with a weak nod.
"As for being a bad mother, cómo es que dicen los jovenes?" (How do youngsters say it?)
His bushy eyebrows squinted as he tried to remember to then lit up at getting it, "You... Uh... You tripping?"
That earned him a little giggle from you, his eyes softened at the gesture.
"Dios mío, don't say that again." You couldn't hold back an ugly snort.
"No Cap. Just fax."
You cringed and giggled in between little hiccups.
"Fax? What are you even talking about?"
He spoke in between titters and silent laughs, but the idiocy of it all had made you laugh and curl up closer.
"You gotta slay my queen."
"Stop, oh my god"
"Pero ya, hablando en serio." (But hey, talking in all seriousness) He cleared his throat and cupped your cheeks.
"You're the best mom, wife, woman and best friend I could ever have. And I'm a blessed man to have you and my little spiders."
"Even if they are so..."
"Annoying at times? yeah. They are. No judgement here. Parenting is hard."
You nodded a bit too enthusiastically.
"Nothing wrong with admitting we get tired from time to time."
"I wished we could have vacations from it."
Your tears had been long dry, but your face remained on his chest.
"We will, once Rosie is a bit more grown. How about that?"
"I'd love to, yeah."
"Go to a girl's night with Jessica and MJ in the meantime. I'll handle the kids."
"Really?"
"Claro. Can't have my wife feeling shitty and do nothing about it."
Miguel kissed your forehead once more and squeezed you in his arms.
"You're always taking care of us that you often tend to forget about yourself."
"Learned that from you" You half chuckled and he swatted your head gently.
"No aprendas mañas." (Don't learn the bad things)
You giggled and he caressed your cheek gently. Eyes softening at you
"Feeling better?"
"Kinda. Gimme a kiss"
He did and smothered you closer.
"Anything else you wanna talk about?"
"Not really."
"Segura?" (You sure)
"Yeah"
"C'mere." He hooked his leg on yours, trapping your body underneath it and part of his torso. You didn't squeal like other times, rather relished in his warmth.
"Te amo, Miguel."
"También te amo."
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oncomingnight · 9 months
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Yandere! Slasher x Fem Reader₊˚⊹♡
These Boots Are Made For Breakin' Teeth..!
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Sebastian was the son of an incredibly well known movie mogul, whom of which helped ignite his adoration for a very specific genre of film, horror. Due to the success of his father's career, he was raised in an environment surrounded with money and awaiting opportunities.
Sebastian was part of a friend group filled with stereotypical personalities, the rich girl, the nerd with glasses, the jock, the quiet girl and the peaceful pacifist. He'd been friends with them all the way from elementary to currently, high school.
His style consists of flannel, woolen jackets, darkly colored long sleeved tops, tank tops, slightly unbuttoned shirts, rolled up sleeves.
Despite his almost permanently unimpressed expression, he'd be, undeniably, the sweetest man you were to ever meet. You wouldn't even have to be struggling with a task for him to swoop in and take care of it himself, the favor always being followed with a slightly teasing remark.
"Looking to get yourself hurt, y/n?" "No, really, I'll take care of it. Go on and relax with the others, wouldn't want you worrying your pretty little head about this."
Sebastian has never murdered anyone without a realistic reason, but everyone has different interpretations of what is necessary and what is not. He's a smart guy so he'll always wear a mask when he's about to go into the night, searching for his target. Many of the people that he has left for dead are people who have caused you or his family emotional distress. He finds anyone that isn't 'overly' protective of their close ones as useless and a waste of air.
Who is he but your protector?
He is the best gift giver that there is, it's almost frightening how able he is to know exactly what you want. His gifts are always color coordinated, accompanied with photographs he's taken of the two of you together.
He's the type to form his fingers into 'bunny ears' when the two of you are posing for a photo and placing them behind your head.
Don't be surprised to find him beside your bed with your favorite beverage, food, snacks and movie dvd when you aren't feeling like yourself.
He's a highschool senior that's got enough money to last him several life times, of course he's going to attend as many parties as he can. But, he's never going to go without you or if they purposefully only invite him. Sebastian keeps a hawkseye on you whenever the two of you attend a social outing together, making sure no one is being a bother or approaching you with malice.
Sebastian would do absolutely anything to see you show that smile he loves so much. Whether that means taking you to an early screening of a movie you've talked about wanting to see, taking you on a road trip surrounded by country roads as Lord Huron's 'The Moon Doesn't Mind' plays, purchasing concert tickets for you to see your favorite artists live, booking a trip to the countryside of a European country whilst staying in a secluded cabin or just going on a simple coffee run.
He has a wooden box that is filled with photographs, letters and trinkets related to you. Yes, he has a necklace of yours that he had swiped and carefully placed into his box of memories.
He hopes you don't mind!
As I've said before, his tough exterior doesn't mean a thing when it comes to the soft center he's got on him.
He has a Pinterest board dedicated to how he'd like your wedding & honeymoon to look, based on everything he knows you'll enjoy.
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fredwkong · 11 months
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Sneakerhead
(inspired by a prompt from the incredibly welcoming @idesofrevolution​ )
It started because of some shoes.
Joel really wanted some classic Air Jordans, the 4s, black with red accents. He’d been having some trouble dating lately, passing out of his early 20s, when girls just wanted a guy who used deodorant. In their late 20s girls wanted shit like 401(k)s and moving in together. Joel’s solution? Date younger.
To do that, he needed some new style. He’d been grabbing streetwear for a while, but the Js would be the centrepiece, what he needed to perfectly set off distressed jeans and an oversized flannel. With his slender frame and boyish looks, with some new style Joel was sure his clean lifestyle would attract plenty of younger dates.
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The shoes remained elusive, however. Too expensive to buy new, impossible to thrift. Finally, a gay guy acquaintance of Joel’s mentioned Sneaker Swap, a trade/sale site. He offered to send Joel a special invite link, an unreadable look in his eyes. Apparently this link would fast track Joel’s account progress somehow, give him unique access to shoes. Some gay kink thing, probably, Joel thought.
When he got home from the bar where he and the guy had met up, Joel followed the link and downloaded the app. The app took a while to load, he noticed, but the loading spiral was pretty nice to look at, so it was fine. It was one of the Js in the middle of several swirling concentric circles with a rainbow pattern.
Finally, the app loaded, inviting Joel to make an account. He input his shoes size, blinking at the afterimage of the spiral in his vision. When the main page loaded, and sneakers started to populate across the screen, his dick jumped unexpectedly, probably a side effect of being so close to finally having his Js and getting a date.
The guy Joel finally ended up buying his Js from lived across town, so Joel drove to his house to make the trade. As soon as he pulled up, he noticed a rainbow flag in the front window. The guy had seemed pretty intelligent and straightforward while Joel negotiated, but when he opened the door the guy seemed totally out of it. He barely remembered agreeing to the trade, he tried to grope Joel’s ass, and worst of all, all he was wearing were some tight boxer briefs and his sneakers, which gave off kind of a funky smell.
The dumb guy left Joel standing next to his shoe rack while he went to go find the Jordans and their box. As he waited, a distinctive smell started to fill Joel’s nose, the rich, buttery aroma rising off of the pile of used shoes in the rack. This guy must not own any socks, Joel thought in disgust. If those Js were gonna smell this bad, he might need to look for a new pair. He started to load sneaker swap, watching the spiral turn for several seconds.
Maybe the smell wasn’t that bad, he realised, sniffing the air again. It wasn’t like he wanted his feet to smell like that, but it wasn’t so surprising for a guy to want to fill his shoes with his essence. Mark his territory. Show off his manliness.
Joel had drifted back toward the shoe rack by the time the guy came back with the shoes. He spotted the Sneaker Swap app, still loading on Joel’s phone.
“Huhu, what a great app,” the guy grunted, handing over the shoebox. “Totally changed my life, bro.”
“Uh, thanks, man,” Joel said, handing over cash for the Js and pocketing his phone. He wrinkled his nose at the smell coming off the guy’s hairy muscles. “Thanks for the shoes.”
“Totally,” the gay guy’s eyes zeroed in on the bulge in Joel’s pants. Joel hadn’t even noticed his erection. “Hey bruh, if you want to,” the guy paused and licked his lips, “trade sneakers again sometime, hit me up.”
Joel beat a hasty retreat back to his car.
As he drove home, he kept thinking about the smell of that guy’s shoes. It was almost like it was still in his head, fogging up his brain. In fact, it was getting stronger. Joel pulled over and grabbed the shoebox from his passenger seat. He hadn’t smelled it in the house, but his fancy new Js were impregnated with the smell of the guy’s feet. Joel groaned, now he would have to figure out how to clean the shoes without ruining them.
Joel kept the shoes in a box in the back of his front closet, not wanting to have to smell them while he figured out how to wash off the stench. By the time he had finished his dinner, though, a faint foot funk was permeating his kitchen like a haze. Those shoes were powerful. Joel loaded up Sneaker Swap. Maybe they had a forum that could help. At the very least, he wanted to comment on the guy’s profile so other people knew what they were getting into.
The loading spiral was so relaxing. Joel could just sit and watch it… Some time later, Joel found himself looking at the main page of the app. When had it gotten so dark? He’d been about to do something on the app. He was going to—he was going to look for more shoes, right. He was already planning more outfits with different pairs.
The next morning, Joel was leaving for work when he saw the Js he’d bought yesterday sitting out on his shoerack, their smell eye-watering at close range. Had he put them there? He must have. The smell seemed different today, more complex and deeper, there was almost an appeal to having it filling him up… Joel shook his head. He should have looked up how to clean them last night, his whole house was gonna smell if this kept up. He went to open the Sneaker Swap app, and watched the spiral load.
He was nearly late for work, he spent so long looking at shoes to buy. How was he getting so absentminded lately? He must have had a latent interest in cool shoes this whole time, he reasoned.
The pattern continued. Every time Joel passed through his entryway, he smelled the musky Jordan 4s on his shoerack. He thought about cleaning them or putting them away, and started to load up Sneaker Swap, then got distracted by looking at shoes. It was starting to affect other parts of his life, too. A girl at work commented on how spacey and airheaded Joel had been acting lately. He just shrugged, unable to think of an answer other than, “Sorry, head’s full of shoe stink.”
By the time his next paycheck came through, Joel had three different pairs on hold with local bros. He was jittery and excited all morning, then loaded up into his car for an afternoon driving around to make the trades.
It was… weird. Joel couldn’t put his finger on it, but all three of the guys he met were different than he’d expected. Maybe it was how slow and stupid their voices were, or their nudity, or the fact none of them had washed or put on deodorant. All three wore their sneakers in their houses, and all three had a pile of smelly shoes by the front door. But every time Joel tried to think about it, the smell of all the shoes seemed to overtake his mind. All three guys had such unique scents to them, Joel found himself fascinated.
On the drive home, Joel barely noticed the three pairs of shoes stinking up his car, too busy thinking about how all those shoes had smelled at the source, where the guys he’d bought his Js from kept all their dirty sneakers. In a daze, he carried the three smelly boxes into his house and absently set the three new pairs of shoes next to the first, which he still hadn’t tried on. He kept meaning to clean them, he should look up how on Sneaker Swap… The loading spiral was so captivating…
Later, Joel found himself sitting on the floor next to his shoerack, his phone open to Sneaker Swap in one hand and one of his new Js in the other. Another couple shoes were in his lap. He took in the complex, different scents of each of the guys he’d bought them from, some salty, some bitter, and one even an almost sweet scent. It was like a signature, their unique trace on the shoes, something he’d be honoured to add to now that he’d inherited the legacy from them.
The next morning, Joel sniffed himself and decided he probably didn’t have to shower this morning. He looked at the deodorant on his bathroom counter, puzzled, and then threw it in the trash. While he ate breakfast, Joel loaded up Sneaker Swap and, after watching the spiral for a while, started looking at shoes. When he got ready for work, he grabbed the first pair of Js he’d bought and shoved his socked feet into their musky interior without a second thought.
Joel had the style now, but he noticed that he was having even more trouble scoring dates now. Girls seemed put off by the manly smell that Joel was building up. He’d started going to the gym more, and showers just seemed so much less important than building up his personal brand of musk to fill in to his shoes. At one bar, a girl wrinkled her nose at him as soon as Joel came up to the bar and she fled. Meanwhile, a passing boy in some little sexy shorts paused walking past Joel, nostrils flaring. Joel watched as the guy’s little dick suddenly tented out his tiny package, and smirked when their eyes met.
He was noticing guys more and more lately. At first, it was just their shoes, like the spiral from Sneaker Swap appeared around the feet of any guy in Js. He kept wondering what it would be like to smell a guy’s feet for real, rather than just through getting his musky shoes. His collection was growing, and each time he went to get new shoes the guys he traded with got more fun. Their houses were full of such hot scents, and their hot, smelly bods looked and smelled so good. They kept pressing up against Joel as they passed him their shoes, passing on their musk to him to take care of. It was so hot.
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As much as he loved the thick, musky smell permeating his house now, Joel still hadn’t gone all the way and stuck his face in one of his Js. He didn’t know if he could take the smell that close to the source. The day he brought home his tenth pair of shoes, though, Joel decided that his little collection deserved to be commemorated on his Sneaker Swap profile. He opened up the app and watched the loading spiral.
He recollected himself as he hit “post” on his new profile pic. He looked at it. His Js were neatly laid out on the shoerack, but off to the side, there he was, in the picture, his face buried in one of the 4s, the first ones he’d bought with the red accents. As likes and comments started to pour in from the guys he’d bought the shoes from, a chorus of “bruh” and “noice” and “sniff that sneak, dude” Joel realised that he was still holding the shoe over his mouth and nose.
Right in the back of his mind, Joel had an instant of fear. Was this really him? This stinky sneakerhead? He’d been different before, clean-cut and even straight! He instinctively took a deep breath, and his negative feelings vanished as all his thoughts were overcome with the salty, musky tang of the shoe, so much stronger at close range that it was a physical sensation on his tongue. Joel’s growing foot stench had blended with the buttery scent of that first dumb himbo he’d bought the shoes from.
It felt like his whole mind was being filled up with musk, slowing his thoughts down like they were moving through molasses. Everything was perfectly fine. He had his shoes, he had his musk, and his big cheesy cock. Life was pretty much perfect for a dumb sneakerhead like him.
The next morning, Joel woke up in bed, cradling one of his Js against his face like when he’d fallen asleep. He didn’t bother putting on more than some boxers and a used pair of socks, sticking his feet into a pair of sneakers as he got out of bed. A new user on Sneaker Swap wanted to buy a pair of his 4s, and after that he’d invited the guy he’d bought his first pair from to come over and check out his collection. Hopefully Joel would be able to get his mouth on that guy’s hot, smelly feet this time.
He needed to message that guy who’s given him the link to this app. Maybe he could give him a reward, Joel thought, kneading his weeping cock through his boxers.
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sempersirens · 11 months
Text
a bird in your teeth, III
masterlist
summary: joel deals with the aftermath of a traumatic experience
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
warnings: 18+, mdni, neighbour!joel, age gap: reader is early-mid 20s, joel early 30s. no break-out. reference to past SA, trauma, nightmares, general symptoms of PTSD. eventual smut
a/n: hello lovelies! slightly longer part ahead. i've decided to make the next part the final installment of this mini-series, i wanted to explore some more intimate aspects between joel and reader that didn't quite fit here. i hope you enjoy! <3
word count: 3.5k
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The sweet chirping of birdsong felt like Mother Nature was playing a cruel joke on you as you stood on the side of the street, arms hugged tightly around yourself. You felt as though the birds were laughing down at you, cackling at your wretched state, sharing an inside joke at your expense. As dawn drew in, her rosy fingers pulled at the remnants of the night's sky. The beauty of the orange and pink hues was wasted on you. To you, it served as a reminder that even as a new day rolled in, the memories swarming your mind wouldn't fade quite as swiftly.
When Joel's truck came hurtling towards you, all notion of time had faded away. You couldn't tell if seconds, hours, or even days had passed since you had lowered your phone from your face. Fifty dawns and dusks could've gone by for all you cared.
The heat from your pumping heart manifested into a blush that crept up your cheeks, and the consequence of your damsel-in-distress phone call settled in your gut.
Joel was here. You had called him, and he had come.
"What happened?" His expression was stern, hair disheveled, and flannel shirt almost comically misbuttoned. You would've laughed if you could remember how.
He grazed your bloody lip with this thumb.
"Sweetheart, what happened?"
"This was a mistake..." You became aware of his hands now on your arms. "Please, don't touch me."
The words tumbling out of your mouth must've sounded as limp and pathetic as you felt. Joel's eyes softened into confusion, and then concern. You didn't have the energy to pull away, but you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye anymore. You feared his gaze would open every locked door inside of you and allow the mess to collapse onto him.
He said your name, softly, removing you from his grip and opening the passenger door.
"Let me take you home."
As you had done all night, you silently obliged. Joel guided you into the truck, his hand hovering over the crown of your head. He closed the door gently and made his way into the driver's seat, starting the ignition in silence. Was he angry? You couldn't work it out. His knuckles were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel they had turned white.
"Joel, please don't be angry with me."
"I'm not angry. I'm taking you back to my place, gonna get you cleaned up, and then when you're ready..."
"Is Sarah okay?" You interrupted.
"Sound asleep. I gotta take her to school in a coupl'a hours, but I'll come straight back to you."
This wasn't right. You shook your head in soft defiance, staring at your lap where your hands sat, fingers interlocked. As you thought of all the trouble you had caused him, you noticed your thumbnails digging into your hands so sharply that you had drawn blood. You turned your palms shakily onto your bare thighs to hide the fresh droplets.
"Honey, where are your shoes?"
Joel's soft inquiry snapped you out of your trance; you hadn't even realized you'd left those fucking cowboy boots on the bedroom floor in your rush out of the front door.
"I left them... I-I didn't think to..." Your breathing became erratic again, chest heaving with each rise and fall feeling like a weight was crushing into your ribcage.
"Hey, hey hey. Breathe. You're with me. You're safe with me, you know that." He reached across your lap and squeezed your still interlocked hands, filling his lungs with air and then exhaling slowly through his mouth like he was a midwife guiding you through childbirth.
You copied his rhythmic breaths, focusing on the emerging purple colors now littering the sky. It was cruel for the sky above you to be so warm and inviting.
You wished for an English February; for thick layers of ice coating the ground with black ice hidden underneath. You wanted it to be the cold that had caused your muscles to freeze, or the harshness of a dry wind to be clawing down your throat. You wished you could blame the weather for the way your body was reacting.
Of all people, you didn't want Joel to see you as weak. You internally reprimanded yourself for pulling him out of his home, away from his daughter to come and save you. Your body and soul had never taken to relying on others easily. Who had you become? You were supposed to be strong. You moved across the world all by yourself, for god's sake.
"What's goin' on in that head of yours?"
"Everything."
The remainder of the journey was silent.
Joel pulled into his driveway, soon exiting the truck and jogging to your side to help you out.
"Easy, darlin'."
He carried your handbag on one arm and looped the other to support your waist. With his free hand, he unlocked the door and closed it quietly behind him.
"Sarah's not gonna be up for another couple hours, you go make yourself comfortable in my bedroom, I'll bring everything y'need."
You gave him a pathetic nod before traipsing up the stairs you had watched Sarah scurrying up only six hours ago. Despite your years of friendship with the Millers, you had never actually gone into Joel's bedroom. You had snuck a peek or two inside whenever the door was left ajar if you passed on your way to the bathroom, but had never set foot inside.
His bedsheets were haphazardly thrown back, half dangling onto the carpeted floor. The fan on his dresser was still humming, sending ripples through his pillowcases. You were reluctant to make yourself at home as he had instructed, so perched on the edge of his bed eyeing the posters dotted on his walls. His bedroom looked like it hadn't changed since his 20s, reminding you of how young he must've been when he started a new life to bring up Sarah in a home he could call his own.
Joel appeared at the door, shutting it softly behind him. He was balancing a steaming mug and a first aid kit in one hand, and some pillows from the sofa under his other arm. He set the mug down on the nightstand beside his bed. Tears swelled in the corner of your eyes at what you recognized as the Yorkshire Tea he kept stocked in the cupboard, especially for you.
"Want you to sit back and get real comfy, alright?"
"Okay."
You hesitantly lifted your legs to rest on the bed, shuffling backward towards the headboard. Joel set the first aid kit at the foot of the bed and leaned over to place the pillows behind your back.
"That okay?"
You nodded your head without looking directly at him.
Wordlessly, Joel walked around to the other side of the bed, setting himself down with a barely audible groan. He brought the first aid kit into his lap and started sifting through the contents.
"You mind if I take a look at your lip?"
"No. I mean - that's fine."
You parted your lips slightly, Joel's fingers lifting your chin up towards him.
"Washed m'hands, promise."
He pulled your bottom lip down to inspect the wound, cleaning the now-dried blood from your chin. The silence in his bedroom made his touch even more intense. You'd felt his hand on your waist, or accidentally brush past your bare skin now and then, but this... You had never been touched by anybody like this before. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly as he put all of his focus into handling you with care.
You had been with your fair share of guys before; boyfriends, one-night-stands, whatever. But the way you felt under Joel's gaze in this moment, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger, made you feel like nobody had ever truly touched you before. Like you were brand new. It made you want to sob. You had to start regulating your breathing again to prevent your lip from wobbling, shattering your impenetrable exterior.
"M'I hurtin' you?"
Finding courage hidden somewhere deep inside of you, you leveled your gaze with his. This close to his face, you could've sworn you saw his pupils dilate.
"No. It's fine, thank you."
"You're doin' so well, honey. Keep breathin' for me." He moved his thumb to stroke your jaw as he spoke.
"I'm sorry, Joel."
"Don't say that. This ain't your fault."
"How can you say that? You don't even know what happened."
"Don't need to. But, I'd be grateful if you'd be so kind as t'fill me in."
You sucked a breath in and brought your knees up to your chest. The birds outside the window began mocking you with their song again.
"You get in a fight? W'that friend of yours who picked you up earlier?"
Oh god. He really had no clue.
"No, nothing like that."
"Somethin' while you were out? Sweetheart, someone had t'have busted your lip like that?"
"I said no."
"So what, you don't remember? You taken somethin'? You're scarin' me, darlin'."
He was pleading. It was dripping all over his face, this deep despair searching your features for the answers your voice couldn't quite give him.
"No, I do. I mean- I said it, I said no. To a guy. O-one second I was falling asleep and then... he was just there, Joel. He appeared out of nowhere. I thought he had gone home. And I was saying no but he was all over me. He was everywhere."
Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks, a dichotomy of relief and anguish flooding through your veins so intensely that any hope of maintaining a stoic facade had long washed away.
You didn't make a sound as you sobbed. Your entire body jerked with each breath, snot ungraciously dripping onto your upper lip. It didn't matter. Joel wrapped you into him without hesitation, your face nestled against his shoulder. He rocked you in his arms, back and forth, back and forth. Your sobs intensified into his t-shirt, eyes squeezed shut. You could feel the tears clinging onto the material, but all he did was hold you tighter.
"Oh, baby girl. It's okay, I got you. I got you now."
"I'm so sorry, Joel." You choked the words out.
"Don't you dare apologize. You let everythin' go. Give all that hurt t'me. I'll take it for you."
Joel pulled you into his lap, your legs collapsed underneath you. He placed a hand on either side of your face, holding you inches away from his own. He had never seen you like this. It shattered his damn heart. He had to keep blinking to fend off his own tears.
“You did the right thing, callin’ me.”
Every inch of him wanted to go back in time to you lingering in the doorway and ask you to stay the night. Hell, he would've gone back to that first time he saw you and taken you in his arms like a sailor returning home from years at sea. The only reason he'd even had the courage to turn up at your front door, mumbling something about burgers, was because Sarah had caught him peeking at you through the curtains for the first few days of you moving in. If you like her so much, why don't you ask her on a date? She had asked so innocently. But she was right; it was that simple. He fired up the grill before straightening himself up and jogging across the street. A Glenn Campbell record had been echoing through your house, something he found even more endearing when he was struck by that accent of yours.
He wanted to tell you that the reason none of his first dates made it to a second was because none of them were you. He was setting these poor women up to fail; how could they ever compete with you?
But right now, you were here. Safe in his arms. He was going to do everything in his power to bring that light back into your eyes.
An hour or so passed like that. You pressed against his chest, falling in and out of a dreamless sleep, Joel's fingers grazing soothing patterns on your arm.
The sound of Sarah's bedroom door closing jolted you awake.
"Ssh, it's okay. S'just Sarah getting ready t'head out. Gimme a minute to go say good mornin'."
You nodded in response, mustering a small smile.
You felt tiny alone in his bed, the absence of his body leaving you feeling hollow. You pulled the covers up to your chin and drew you knees up to your chest, dreading to think what Joel would tell Sarah. She called me in the middle of the damn night, what was I s'posed to do? Maybe she'll get the hint and leave. Imagined narratives swarmed your mind.
Why was it so hard for you to accept his help?
"Oh my god," you gasped, sitting up. "Daisy."
In your state, you had left her there all alone. Mark seemed like a nice enough guy, but didn't they all?
You reached for your handbag hanging off of Joel's door handle and searched for your phone.
14 missed calls. You tapped your foot against the floor anxiously as the dialing tone sounded.
"Moooornin' Ms. Cocktease. How's ya head?" She chirped, the relief that engulfed you allowed your body to slack back onto the bed.
"I am so glad to hear your voice." You breathed.
"That's romantic. You gonna tell me what had you scurrying off in such a hurry at 3am? Y'left your damn boots behind."
"I was... really worried about missing my 9am. It's with my thesis supervisor."
"Sweetheart, a love you but you gotta learn to relax once in a while. Let off some steam! Unclench your jaw, woman."
"I know, I know. I'll work on it."
"How'd you get home, anyway?"
"Oh, um. I called a cab."
"I feel like you're lyin', and I intend to find out what's goin' on. I swear to god if you're fuckin' that old man I'm not gonna know whether to be proud or-"
"Listen, babe, I'm glad you had a good night. Give me all the gritty details over coffee tomorrow?"
"Oh fine. Enjoy your meeting."
The line disconnected as Joel re-entered the room.
"Hey, sweetheart. I'm gonna drop Sarah to school, but I'll be right back. Need me to pick you anythin' up from your place?"
"No, that's okay. I should get out of your hair-"
"I'll be right back."
He walked over and placed a kiss on the top of your head.
---
Joel couldn't concentrate for the entire drive back to his place. He had to pass the street he had picked you up from hours prior to get to and from Sarah's school. The image of you standing there so broken, now knowing exactly why, filled him with grief for the version of you he knew and adored. He wished he had known there and then what you had endured. He knew how strong and capable you were of looking after yourself, so he had to fight every urge to raid each block of flats along the street to find the guy who had done this to you.
He flexed his knuckles back and forth over the steering wheel, forcing himself to go straight home. Back to you. However you decided to deal with this, whether it be today or in five years' time, he would be behind you.
What he would do to find that pathetic excuse for a man, that boy, and slowly take each finger off that he had dared to touch you with. He would make him hurt in ways he didn't even know he could feel pain.
Joel's mind flicked back to the image of you breaking down in his arms and he sucked a breath in to steady himself. He wished he could take all of your pain away and alter the course of the last six hours to have you waking up in his arms unscathed.
He returned home to find you curled up asleep in his bed sheets. He crept under the cover next to you, about to pull you back into his arms when you started thrashing your arms and legs.
"No, stop!" You murmured, still fast asleep.
"Sweetheart, it's me. Hey, hey, hey. It's me. It's Joel." He spoke, holding your face between his hands to try to coax you out of your nightmare.
"Wake up, darlin'. You gotta wake up. It's me, you're safe."
Your eyes finally widened, consumed with fear and confusion. You searched your surroundings and backed away from Joel's grip, still calculating where you were and what the threat was.
"You're okay. Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby."
"Joel... I'm sorry, I-"
"Stop apologizing, I'm sorry. I didn't mean t'scare you, honey."
You sat in silence for a few minutes, slowing your breathing back down and ridding the sound of blood pumping in your ears.
"Do you mind if I have a bath, please?"
"Anything. I'll run you one now. Sarah has some o'that fancy girl soap if you want?"
You smiled softly.
"Sure, that sounds nice. Thank you, Joel."
Before heading to the bathroom, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, lingering with his lips on your skin for longer than he had before. Your eyes fluttered closed as you listened to his footsteps out of the bedroom.
Part of you was desperate to scrub away Elijah's touch until your skin was raw. But, another part of you didn't want Joel's smell to fade from you. In his arms his scent had consumed you, replacing the smell of your laundry detergent with his.
You squeezed your eyes tightly and shook your head.
Stop this. You're projecting onto him. He's looking out for you out of the kindness of his heart and you're taking advantage of it.
You tried to distract yourself from the fixating on the feeling of Joel's lips against your skin by shedding last night's clothes and replacing them with his dressing gown. Which of course also stunk of him. Great.
"S'ready." He called.
Catching sight of you in his dressing gown, Joel had to remind himself to close his mouth.
"Suits you." He smiled.
The bathwater was obscenely pink, bubbles almost escaping over the side of the tub.
Joel stood uneasily as you smiled at the domesticity of the scene.
"I'll give ya some privacy. Make myself busy downstairs. You just holler if y'need me, alright?"
"Joel, wait. Would you... it's stupid."
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"Would you sit with me? I really don't want to be alone."
Joel’s response came so quickly you didn’t even have time to feel bad for being so forward.
"Of course I will. You get yourself comfortable, I'll wait outside the door."
You discarded his dressing gown onto the floor, sinking into the warm tub. You ran some more hot water, feeling unsatisfied until the water was hot enough to leave your skin red wherever it touched.
"Come in." You called, your torso submerged underneath the bubbles with just your collarbones and toes poking out of the pink waters.
Under any other circumstance, he would've dropped to his knees by the side of the tub and told you that he had never seen someone look so perfect before. Your flushed cheeks and hair bundled behind your head against the tiles made Joel feel like he was staring at an oil painting in a gallery.
He adored you. Fuck it, he was in love with you. From the very beginning.
Joel lowered himself onto the closed toilet seat, arms resting on his knees.
"Temperature okay?" Was all he could muster.
"I added a bit more hot, I hope that's okay."
"You women and your damn hot water." He teased. "S'absolutely fine, honey."
Neither of you spoke for a little while, you rested your head back and soaked in Joel's protective presence.
"Can I ask you somethin'?"
"Of course, Joel."
"Did he..."
"No. It's funny actually, he couldn't get it up." You said dryly.
"But he tried?"
"Yeah, he tried."
"I'll kill him."
Joel's protectiveness overwhelmed you, feeling for the first time in your life that you had someone unconditionally in your corner. You lifted your arms from the water to cover your face in embarrassment, revealing finger-shaped bruises that had formed on both of your upper arms.
"Fuck," he breathed when he caught sight of the way you had been mistreated.
He knelt down beside the bathtub, gently pulling your hands away from your face.
"What can I do, honey?" He searched your face for an answer. "Tell me how to take all this away for you."
"Joel, you've done so much already. More than I could ever ask from you."
"I just wanna fix it."
By nature, Joel was a fixer. He patched up Sarah's knees and elbows after soccer games. He bailed Tommy out of jail more times than he would admit. Hell, he even fixed things for work. It was what he did.
"I want you to take me back there." You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you had been holding. "To the apartment. I need to go back."
"Y'sure that's a good idea?"
"I am. But I need to go in alone. I just want to know you'll be waiting outside for me if I need you."
"Sweetheart, I'll always come when you call."
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bunnylovesani · 5 months
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The Bratty Belle
Chapter 3
Summary: You drop your car off at James' shop and spend the day together, bonding more than expected when you receive a distressing phone call that makes your dark past come to light.
Tw: mentions of abuse/molestation/suicide
WC: 4k
Anxiously slamming the door shut, you got into your rusty car and started the sputtering engine. You almost lost control several times on the short drive over to James’ garage but tried your very best to park as sensibly as possible once you spotted him standing outside in his striped work suit, wrench in hand. 
“You okay?” He asks tentatively as you exit the vehicle, shortly after hitting the curb.
“Yeah! Yeah, great.” You squeak, brushing some dust off your dress and stumbling over to him in your clacking heels. He looks like he’s about to say something about your driving skills but just about manages to hold it in. 
“Come on through, I’ll give you the grand tour.” He opens the door and gestures for you to enter. A shiver courses through your body when his hand brushes past your lower back as you skip into the garage. 
“It’s not much but it’s mine.” His voice echoes against the walls of the open space, tall ceilings and greasy oil spills in abundance. 
“I like it!” You chirp, eliciting strange looks from some of his colleagues who wondered what the scantily clad floozy was doing in their workshop. 
“Uh, guys- this is Bunny. I’m servicing her car.” James explains once he catches sight of their puzzled expressions and they nod at you courteously. “Through here is my office.” He continues the tour and guides you to a small but sleek room complete with a desk and computer. “Leave the car with me overnight and I’ll have it ready for you in a couple days. Do you need some driving lessons while we’re at it?” He chuckles as he leans on his desk, crossing his dirtied arms. 
“I can drive perfectly well, thank you very much.” You huff, cheeks flushing at the memory of the cat you almost ran over on the way here. 
“James, where’s your other tool kit- you know the one-oh. Hey.” A brunette woman with a button nose and a blue flannel shirt pops her head in. A flannel that looked suspiciously similar to the one James wore the other day.
“Hi.” You quietly reply, insecurity enveloping you. She saunters over to him and rests her elbow on his shoulder, brushing past you lightly in the process. “We have to get the Beetle fixed by Tuesday- the woman called to push the deadline up.” 
“Seriously? Who does she think I am, her personal servant?” James recoils and the woman chuckles. 
“Relax babe, you’re all knotted up.” She chuckles as she massages his shoulder lazily with one hand. 
“Oh, and this is Bunny. Bunny, meet Vanessa. Vanessa, Bunny.” He points between you while tiredly pinching the bridge of his nose. Your lips form into a thin smile as you feel yourself shrinking. 
“Aw, she’s adorable. Shy too. What’s she doing here?” She looks you up and down broodingly. 
“Ask her yourself.” He pushes himself up off his desk and gives you a subtle wink as he heads out of his office. “Bunny, give me your keys and I’ll park the car into the garage. Meet me out back.” 
You nod obediently as your gaze follows him out, eyes eventually meeting Vanessa’s in an uncomfortable silence. 
“So. You’re his new neighbour, huh?” Vanessa opens up a pack of gum and takes a seat in James’ chair, not offering you any. 
“Yeah. Moved in last week.” You shuffle nervously under her unfaltering gaze, steely and cold. 
“And you’re already getting a free servicing job out of him. You work fast.” She smacks her lips and you scrunch up your nose at the strong scent of spearmint emanating from her.
“Oh no, I have every intention of paying him for all his-“
“He told me not to charge a cent for this job. Told me to put all costs on his card.” She interjects monotonously, making a stark difference to the chirpy demeanour she had when he was around. 
“Oh. Well, I didn’t know that.” You reply earnestly, feeling a slightly threatening aura lingering in the air.
“Now why would a cold, self-absorbed man like James suddenly want to start doing charity work well into his 30s?” She scans you scrutinizingly and the hair on the back of your neck stands up. 
“Are you accusing me of something?” You reply boldly, sensing her opinion of you had already been formed. 
“I don’t know, Bunny. That depends on what your intentions are.” She straightens up in her seat and blows a bubble with her gum. 
“James is waiting for me.” You head out towards the door, wishing for an end to this painfully tense interaction. 
“You sure that’s not all he’s waiting for?” She quipped and it took every last bit of strength to ignore her, continuing your march out the door.
Pacing to the garage where James told you to come, your head spun with confusion; why would he want to pay for you? You knew the parts wouldn’t come cheap and he’d made it clear he wasn’t trying to pursue a relationship with you- so what did he want? 
“That was quick. Thought you and Vanessa would’ve been chatting for a while longer.” He comments as he slams your car door shut, having just reparked it. “What’d she say to you?” He asks suspiciously after seeing your perplexed expression. 
“Nothing. Just didn’t find the conversation too riveting. Would rather see what my favourite mechanic was up to.” You joked, stepping closer towards him. He raises his bushy brows and cracks an earnest smile, pearly whites contrasting against his sweaty, tan face. 
“So what’s the verdict? Is she wrecked beyond repair?” You ask, peering over his shoulder to observe the rusty hunk of metal you called a car. 
“Of course not. I’ll have her good as new by the end of the week.” He pats your shoulder as he walks by you. “Let’s go for dinner.” 
“Oh?” Before you can even object, he’s unzipping his work suit and walking towards his truck. 
“Get in.” He opens the passenger side door and you find yourself jumping in without a second thought. 
“Burger and milkshake sound good?” He starts the engine with a roar and you nod in response. “Get this on.” He reaches around you and clips your seatbelt into place. 
“Thank you.” You’re filled with confusion over his strangely paternal behaviour as Vanessa’s words echo in your head. 
Glancing over to your left, you ogle the way he keeps a firm hand on the steering wheel, tapping the leather with his fingertips. His side profile is so entrancing, chiselled jawline and Adam’s apple framing his strong features perfectly.
“What are you staring at, you little creep?” He grins and you snap your head back to face the front. 
“You have something on your face. Bit of smudged oil.” You point at his cheek unconvincingly, hoping he doesn’t check in the rearview mirror.
James pulls into a parking lot outside a quaint little diner and parks the car carefully before jumping out to open the door for you. You got the sense that he wasn’t usually such a cautious driver. 
“A girl could get used to this.” You giggle as you take his hand and hop out of the car, walking with him to the entrance.
“It’s concerning that you find basic chivalry impressive.” He mutters, guiding you to a chequered cloth clad booth in the corner of the establishment before taking a seat with a heavy huff. 
“You tired?” You ask, sitting prettily opposite him. 
“Long day. Like every day.” He looks away, grabbing the menu a little too fervently. “What do you want?” 
“Oh, umm...” You peer over and scan the menu but the endless options have your head spinning- you’d always been infuriatingly indecisive. 
James patiently waits for a couple of minutes as you flick through the extensive pages before summoning a waitress over with a raised hand. 
“I’ll have a hamburger and coffee- leave the jug- and a double cheeseburger and strawberry milkshake for the lady. Don’t forget the fries.” He fires out and hands the sluggish waitress the menu back. 
“How’d you know that was what I wanted?” You squeak out, watching the waitress ring the order up in the kitchen. 
“Lucky guess.” He winks. “Too hungry to wait for you to analyse the whole menu. Hope you don’t mind.” 
“No, but a double along with a milkshake might be a little much?” You giggle, remembering how you’d eaten already before you came by. 
“Well, I have to keep you full. I can’t imagine how grumpy you get when you’re hungry.” He shakes his head at the thought. 
“Here’s that milkshake for the lady and a big ole jug of coffee for you, handsome.” The waitress saunters by and pours his drink into a mug, bending over to accentuate her cleavage. 
“Thanks.” He looks her up and down for the briefest moment before ducking his head, weaving it away from her to meet your eyes again. “How’s the shake, kiddo?” He smiles as you take a sip from the stripy red straw.
“Delicious. But I make it better.” You flirt, noticing the sulking waitress frowning as she trudged away.
“I’ll have to taste it sometime.” The expression on his face is calm and sincere with a hint of something in his eyes that you can’t quite explain. 
“James?” You intoned, dragging out his name. 
“Yes, Bunny?” He played along. 
“That day before you came over for the first time, were you arguing with someone on the phone?” You queried innocently, knowing already that he was. 
“You could say that.” He sighed and waved his hand dismissively as the food arrived, delivered by a waiter this time.
“Who with? It looked quite heated.” You coaxed, keen to know more.
“You talk a lot. Eat your food.” He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat before taking a big bite out of his burger. 
Not wanting to push his buttons any further, you abandon your curiosity for the time being and tuck into your meal.
You and James exchange several glances as you eat in a comfortable silence, that familiar bubbling feeling rising in your chest every time you made eye contact. Once you’d finished, James swiftly paid the bill- leaving no time at all for you to voice your protests and effectively silencing you by getting up and heading out the door. 
“Thanks for the lift home.” You murmured once you’d gotten back into the car and he looked at you with an expression that neared disgust. 
“What was I supposed to do, leave you to walk home after I’d taken you out? Honestly, what kind of fucking idiots have you been hanging around?” He scoffs, shaking his head and you shrink down into your seat. 
He wasn’t wrong, you’d never been around the gentlemanly type before and spending time with James was making you shamefully aware of that. 
“Would you like to come in?” You ask sweetly, swaying on your tiptoes once he’d walked you to the front door. “I have some more of those girl scout cookies you liked.” 
“Maybe just for one.” He chuckled at the mention of the sweet treat before strolling into your apartment. 
“Here you go.” You retrieved the pastries from the kitchen and handed them to James, who was standing patiently in the arch under your doorway with an endearing smile painted on his face. “I added some other things I thought you might like.” 
He inspected the transparent bag laden with cookies, cinnamon swirls and chocolate croissants- lovingly wrapped with a satin pink bow. 
“It looks so pretty, I don’t even want to open it.” He stares at it in disbelief. “Thank you. This is so nice. No one’s ever….you really made all this?” 
You nodded and his earnest gratitude warmed your heart. 
“I should be the one thanking you.” You brush your hand against the side of his arm. “I’ve never been shown so much kindness.” 
“Jeez, kid, it was only dinner.” He chuckles.
“And it’s only some cookies.” You assert and he stares at you with a look of understanding unlike one you’d ever seen before. “I know about the car too. Vanessa told me.”
He curses under his breath and looks away, almost looking embarrassed. 
“And you don’t even want to sleep with me. I’m confused, James. Why are you being so good to me?” You stare into his eyes searching for an explanation. 
“Bunny, how can you even say that?” He grabs your face affectionately with furrowed brows before awkwardly retreating his hand a moment later. “You…I don’t even know what to say to that. As if that’s the only interest a man could have in you.” 
“Well, isn’t it?” You ask dejectedly.
“Of course not!” His hands settle for holding your wrists, needing to touch you in some way but not wanting to overstep. 
“So what reason do you have?” 
He looks so conflicted that it takes him a little while to form his next sentence. 
“You seem like a good kid. If I can help you out, I’m happy to.” He replies with a heavy sigh- as if he’s releasing thoughts that shouldn’t be there. 
“And your girlfriend doesn’t mind?” You ask curiously. 
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks. My business is my own.” You look down and notice how firm his hold over your wrists still is. “And I wouldn’t go as far as to call her my girlfriend. We’ve only been out on a couple dates.”
Try as you may, you couldn’t stop the wide grin that spread across your beaming face.  You expected him to scold you in his usual cocky manner- to make some kind of comment about how that didn’t mean he was interested but he simply smiled back. 
A shrill ringing filled the room and you recognised it as the sound of your phone. 
“One second.” You giggled at James and he nodded, stepping aside to answer your call. Looking down at the bright screen, you saw it was your step-sister calling. 
“Daisy?” You picked up hesitantly- you weren’t exactly on speaking terms.
“Dad’s in the hospital. It’s not looking good.” Her grave voice exhaled and a shiver ran down your spine. You hated when she referred to him as your father.
“W-what’s wrong with him?” You ask with morbid curiosity.
“He was in an accident. Hit head-on by a drunk driver on his way to work this morning. You need to get here!” She choked back tears. 
“I don’t know, Dais…” Your mind flooded with childhood memories of your stepdad. Not a single one was pleasant. He might’ve been Daisy’s dad but he sure as hell wasn’t yours. 
“What do you mean you don’t know?! There’s no question, you need to come here and see him now!” She shrieked, desperation laced in her voice.
“I told you I’d never set eyes on that man again. This doesn’t change that.” You tried your best to sound stern despite the pain that was building. 
“I can’t believe you’re being so selfish. Distancing yourself from your family just to prove a point when we already know you lied.” The venom in her voice strikes you to your core. 
“I have done nothing but tell the truth. You all chose to take his side.” The tears started spilling. “My only real family was my mother. And he is the reason she’s no longer here.” 
“She’s got no one to blame but herself. She took the easy way out. I guess you’re a coward just like her.” 
“I hope he dies. Slowly and painfully.” You spit down the line before hanging up and throwing your phone across the room, a sobbing fit racking through your body. 
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” James rushes over, wrapping his arms protectively around your shoulders. You’d forgotten he was even here but you were glad to be shrouded in his warm embrace. 
“My stepdad…he’s dying- and I’m happy about it? And I think I might’ve messed things up forever with the only family I have left. I’m a terrible person.” You choked out the words between snivels. 
“I don’t know about the rest but I know for sure you’re not a bad person. Calm down sweetheart, everything’s okay. I’m here.” You weep into his chest, staining his shirt with thick tears. “Why do you hate your stepdad?”
“Wh-when I was a kid, he’d - well he’d-“
“Take your time, angel.” He pulled you in closer when you struggled to get the words out. 
“When my mom first married him, he’d sneak into my room at night and do things to me. I was too scared to say anything. He said it’d be our little secret.” You shudder, feeling more vulnerable in this moment than you had in years. 
“Bunny…” James looked distraught, his face contorted and twisted into a look of disbelief, sorrow and disgust. “And you feel bad for wishing he’d die? If the bastard survives, I’ll go to that hospital and finish him off myself.” 
You stop the stream of tears for just long enough to gaze up at him pitifully- in a state of utter confusion that someone could feel so much empathy for you. 
“And I take it your stepsister doesn’t believe you?” He continues, rubbing your back in an attempt to instil you with calm. 
“No.” You sniffle. “She thinks I’m making it all up.” 
“Did your mother know?” He asks cautiously, careful not to upset you any further.
“No, no I hid it all. It was only a couple years ago that I worked up the courage to let it all out. Thought it would help but it turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. It filled her with such regret and shame that she didn’t even get to finalise the divorce before she… she couldn’t live with herself knowing she’d let that happen to me. So she, she-“
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He pulled you down on the couch, sweetly kissing your forehead and smoothing your hair as you cried your heart out. 
“Daisy’s right- I am selfish. If I’d never said anything, she would’ve still-“
“Don’t.” He interrupted you. “Don’t you dare blame yourself.” 
You were used to being rattled beyond repair whenever you came into contact with your stepfamily- but you weren’t used to having someone alongside you to pick up the pieces. Something so unfamiliar had never felt so good. 
“Will you stay with me?” You asked with such tooth-rotting sweetness you were sure he couldn’t refuse. His eyes darted back and forth and he licked his lips in thought.
“Like, for the night?” 
“Yes. Just one night. Please.” Your reddened, glassy eyes looked up at him sanguinely. 
“Of course.” He whispered, rubbing the side of your cheek with his thumb. “Anything you need.” 
Your faces were barely 2 inches apart but your gaze was stolen by his soft lips, plump with temptation. He said anything you need, right? Leaning in a little more until the tips of your noses were touching, you planted a gentle kiss on his parted lips. They rested against each other for a moment before James kissed you back, snaking his hand into your hair as he brushed his lips against your own passionately. 
“Wait.” He pulled away with a wet smack. “You’re vulnerable right now. This is wrong.”
“Then why does it feel so right?” You attempted to close the gap between you but he backed away again, imposing an ever bigger distance. 
“Bunny.” He warned, not budging. 
“Okay. I’m sorry.” You looked down in shame. 
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He looked out the window and you both suddenly became aware of how rapidly night had fallen. “Let’s get you ready for bed, hm?”
“But what about-“
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He quickly resolves the matter and stands up before heading to your bathroom. “Come on, let’s get that makeup off.” He beckons you and you slug over to him. 
“But I look awful.” You sulk, hesitant to reveal your natural face to him despite crying most of your mascara off. 
“That’s not possible.” He mumbles in a low voice, handing you some pre soaked cotton pads. 
You swipe the black streaks away and wash your face as he leans against the ledge of the bathtub. 
“All done. Are you gonna run away screaming now?” You playfully cover your face with your hands but he stands up and tucks your wrists down. 
“You’re perfect.” He stares right through you, not letting you wriggle out of his grasp until his words sink in. 
“Thanks.” You mutter uncomfortably, not sure what to make of the feelings he was bringing out in you.
You amble over to your room and change into your pyjamas; James being the gentleman he was closed the door behind you and waited patiently.
“You can come in.” You call out and he enters after a few moments to find you in your comfiest set of fluffy pyjamas. “Usually I wear something a little more cute but today, I just-“
“Stop explaining yourself.” He interrupted you again. He loved doing that. “You’ve never looked cuter. I like my girls a little fuzzy.” You giggle and playfully slap his hand away as he pinches your side. 
“Thought you said you don’t see me in that kinda way.” You questioned teasingly.
“And it’s time for bed, little lady.” He chuckles and you throw a pillow his way. “Under the covers, c’mon.” 
You shuffle into bed as he tucks you in, folding the frilly duvet in around you until you were safely cocooned. 
“Alright, all tucked in. You gonna be okay?” He raises his eyebrows with the cutest concern and you nod drearily. “I’m right next door if you need something. Good night, sweetheart.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning the lights off and walking out. 
After several hours spent tossing and turning, you resign yourself to a night of no sleep. The cogs in your mind whir with dizzying speed and the memories that resurface make you nauseous. You shook your head every time the image of your stepdad, twisted grin beaming down at you took shape but it wasn’t enough to clear your dirtied mind.
Sitting up with a huff, you turned your bedside lamp on and wondered if James was asleep yet. Creeping out the door, you heard his light snoring from down the hall as you tiptoed to the living room. 
He looked so peaceful snuggled around the thin bedspread you kept on your couch but it dawned on you that in your distress, you’d forgotten to give the man a proper blanket. Quickly backtracking to retrieve a quilt, you grabbed your favourite pink one before going back to precariously swathe him in it, trying not to rouse. 
“Mm, Bunny?” He whispered sluggishly, still half asleep. 
“Just giving you a blanket. Go back to sleep.” You hushed before turning around to walk away but you felt a strong grip wrap around your wrist. 
“Are you okay?” He opens his dreamy blue eyes and sits up a little.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just can’t sleep.” You admit, already feeling bad that you’d woken him up.
He shuffles back a little before grabbing the corner of the blanket and lifting it up. 
“Come on. I know you want to.” He smirks and you bite your lip shyly. 
Moments later, you’ve crawled in beside him and you’re enveloped in his arms- the musky scent of his faded cologne lingering under your nose as you press your face deeper into his chest. He held a protective arm around your shoulder as yours lay slouched around his waist, the heavy weight of the duvet pressing down comfortingly on you both. 
James fell into the arms of Morpheus soon after and the gentle hum of his breathing resonated through the night, helping you fall into the most peaceful slumber you’d had since you were a child. 
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thewriterg · 8 months
Text
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭
pairing(s); luke danes x fem!reader
summary; to prevent you from loosing a leg Luke helps you with your Halloween decorations to save your limbs and his nerves —flufftober day; 10—
word count; 580+
warning(s); reader giving Luke grays, fluff, pet names, and language
playlist; baby I’m yours by cass elliot
A/n:—GIFs; @slayerbuffy & @clwnstim— can’t say I’m too sad to see flufftober go because I suck at fluff
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“What the hell” Luke muttered rolling into your driveway with the turn of his steering wheel the tail of his truck following behind him as he squinted at the sight of you on the top of your roof artificial spider webs hanging from the pillars of your porch small plastic spiders peaking through the white web
The brunette didn’t rush out of the car until he began to watch your unsafe attempt of getting down from the top of your home aka with out a latter
“Hey! You’re killing me smalls!” You smiled down at him having got back to the surface of the roof of your home at the sound of his scolding voice that held no room for argument
“If i was waiting for my knight in shining armor to come rescue me then i declared i am no damsel in distress i shall save myself” You mocked in a posh gilded voice while Luke rolled his eyes in in response seeming over your act
“If you don’t come down right now I’m leaving you to the hocks” You gasped at the statement a hand over your heart and the brunette practically over the whole situation at hand
“You would never” You sat down your legs dangling over the ledge of the roof your arms crossed and a small mock pout on your face if you searched up ‘4 year old in time out’ Luke was sure your picture would pop up front and center
“Listen here you, if I have to come up there” You giggled at the stern finger that was pointed towards you garnished with stern ice blue eyes you hummed in response twirling a loose thread on your sweater your eyes tilted towards the sky ‘contemplating’ your decision
“God woman are you crazy!?” The brunette hissed as you slid from the roof barely able to catch you in time your frame secure against his flannel covered chest sitting you down on the ground giving you a few extra seconds to make sure you were settled
“Oh please dear lord, will you be ever so kind to help me hang the decor around the the castle” You spoke while Luke’s eyebrows furrowed at the borderline terrible accent shaking his head in disbelief or disgust you couldn’t quite tell
“Get in the house and bring me the boxes” the brunette grumbled and you giddily skipped your way up the porch into you home searching for Halloween decorations
💌💌💌💌
“Boo!” You screamed causing Luke to flinch his body jittering as you snickered at the shivering of his shoulders just having finished pinning the last 3D bats over your door frame
“Jesus Christ! You are insane you hear me!? Lala loopy” He hissed speaking with his hands to emphasis his point as you smirked before putting up grabby hands at the blue eyed pale man while he backed away declining the offer with a passion
“My big helper you have saved the kingdom from a unfulfilling castle and your reward is a lay of my lips” You made a high pitched smooch sound from your lips before placing it on his cheek the stubble tickling yours in return
“You’re gonna be the death of me woman” Luke uttered as you turned your back towards him pressed against his front half before he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as the wind currents picked up around you both
Luke could argue about the best time of the year
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©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify
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