#essential vehicle checks

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#cod mw fanfiction #cave writing #John Price x Reader #x reader #dark fic #Price please keep your dogs on leashes they are terrorizing women #The boys missed the real retirement party because they got emergency deployed and they've been trying to reschedule all year long #Good thing they've got such a good gift to make up for it #The homies in discord agree: These guys are unsettling

[jobean12-blog]

Slow Ride

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 3,002

Summary: Joel picks you up (sorta rescues you) and your attraction to him is instant even with the state of the world, but does he feel the same?

Author's Note: Honestly, my friend @lizette50 shared the gif below with me and just his hands on that steering wheel sparked 3k words of nonsense. I'm not only obsessed with his neck but also his hands (and the rest of him!) Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy 💕

Warnings: there's some tension- both sexual and other, softness, grumpy Joel, flirting

The gif below is from pinterest HERE

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The sound of tires on the road draws your attention from your hiding spot but when they skid to a stop you stay in your unseen position and sneak a look. You can never be too careful and staying hidden and quiet has been an essential part of your survival so far.

But all your rational thoughts drain and every muscle in your body coils tightly as you lay eyes on the man that steps out of the old truck.

Before anything else registers, you notice the way he moves. His long, thick legs carry him surely toward the nearest broken-down car and when he bends over to check the gas tank you get a glimpse of his ass in the tight jeans.

With a huff of frustration he straightens and walks toward another car, this one closer to you, and you can see the hard set of his jaw, his eyes much the same as they scan his surroundings.

You can’t stop your gaze from tracking down over his broad shoulders and wide chest.

Without remembering to keep quiet you shift to get a better look and accidentally knock into a rusty metal part, sending it careening down to the pavement with a loud clang.

His gun is out and cocked before you even register your error and with shaky hands you stand up and reveal yourself.

He locks eyes with you across the small space of separation and you have the satisfaction of watching his shoulders relax and his eyes slowly peruse you from head to toe. Perhaps it was merely to check if you were armed…or infected…or maybe he just wanted to look.

Either way, it sets your nerve ends tingling and when his gaze lingers, warmth races across your skin.

“I’m not a threat,” you say, squaring your shoulders but keeping your arms and hands high above your head.

He still doesn’t speak and keeps the gun trained on you, his expression wary.

“I promise. I’m just trying to get to Jackson.”

At the mention of Jackson, his eyes narrow and he steps closer. You don’t budge.

“How do I know you’re not infected?” he asks.

“Well, I’m all alone and have been for days. I’d let you check me out but we just met…usually I have a man at least take me out to dinner first.”

Your joke gets the opposite reaction you hoped for. His jaw clenches and his teeth grind under the pressure.

“I do need a ride though.”

You lower your hands, smoothing them over your hips and brushing the dust from your knees.

“That is, if you don’t mind me bumming one.”

Your hope starts to slip with his extended silence.

He finally drops the gun and pinches the bridge of his nose.

You slowly walk forward and extend your hand to introduce yourself. He stares at it for a moment before taking it in his larger one.

“Joel,” he rumbles.

“You wouldn’t leave a girl stranded, would you Joel?”

“Fine. Get movin’.”

You slide a glance across the console of the rattling old pick-up truck and watch him under the cover of your lashes. He hasn’t looked at you once since loading you into the vehicle, instead keeping his dark eyes glued to the road, jaw still tight with obvious tension.

You were sure you caught him giving you another once over when you bent down to sift through your bag but by the time you felt his stare and peeked his way he was muttering something incoherent and running a rough hand through his hair.

“So…” you start, turning his way slightly. “How long is the ride?”

He shoots you a look that says, “are you serious?”

“Shouldn’t take us more than a day.” He grinds his teeth, something you’ve come to notice he does often, and lifts his eyes to the rearview mirror. “Long as we don’t run inta any trouble.”

“I see…” You cross your legs, hoping to appear relaxed. “Maybe we’ll see something cool on the way.”

His bushy eyebrows shoot up to his hairline but he doesn’t grace you by meeting your eyes when he asks, “ever been to Wyoming?”

You’re surprised silence keeps you quiet for longer than you mean to be and you see his hands flex on the steering wheel.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to ask me any questions.”

He sends you an unamused look. “Ain’t one for much talkin’ these days.”

You nod in understanding but don’t hide your smile. “And no, I haven’t. But I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”

“What do you plan on doin’ when we get there?”

With a shrug you turn to look out the window, tracing your finger down a smear of dirt on the other side of the glass.

“Help out of course…and I was hoping I could do some planting. You know grow food…or something like that...breed animals…farm?”

Your thoughts trail off as you realize how silly and inadequate your plan sounds but you turn when you feel the heavy weight of his stare and realize he’s studying you.

“You know you should keep your eyes on the road,” you say with a half-hearted smile.

He stares for a beat longer before turning his attention back to driving.

“Yeah because there’s so many other cars out here.”  

You gasp. “He makes a joke? Pull over, I think I’m feeling dizzy.”

He merely grunts in reply but you’re sure you catch the side of his mouth twitching with a smile.

“What do you plan on growin’? The weather can be pretty harsh in the winters.”

“Do you really want to know?”

He frowns at the windshield.

You let out a yielding sigh and start to rattle off a list.

“I dunno…I was thinking maybe…mangoes, bananas, pineapple! Oh kiwi!”

At his dark look you smile brightly to assure him you’re joking.

“Very funny.”

“About time you noticed.”

His gaze turns from the road back to you, raking down your body and back up to meet your face.

“Oh, I noticed sweetheart.”

The interior of the truck suddenly becomes too hot and you start to crack the window for some fresh cool air.

You try your best to settle into the seat and focus on the rush of the scenery, letting the tension filled silence stretch until he speaks again.

“What are you thinkin’ about over there?”

Unsure of where to take the conversation after that unexpected turn, you fall back on your humor.

“Kiwis..and mangoes and bananas..”

This time you see the corners of his eyes crinkle with a genuine smile and you cheer inwardly.

His hand relaxes on the steering wheel before tightening again, long fingers wrapping easily around the worn leather as he slowly slides along the curve, the action drawing your attention and holding it.

His hands are big, dwarfing the wheel with rough and calloused fingers. Your thoughts quickly drift away from tropical fruits and fill with the fantasy of how it would feel if he touched your bare skin.

You seek the air from the window but find it too warm and gently press the back of your hand to your cheek. Your skin is hot and it does nothing to alleviate the feeling so you let your hand drift to the top buttons of your shirt and undo them, leaving the material agape.

When he shifts in the driver’s seat you try not too look. Try not to notice the way his legs are spread wide and his jeans pull tightly between them.

He turns and catches you staring, holding your gaze before his drops to your lips. The hot look in his eyes, the one that continues to dip and linger on your exposed neckline, is hard to ignore and your breath hitches.

By the time you reach Jackson the air inside the truck is thick with tension and you throw the door open and take a deep inhale.

Tommy runs to greet Joel, his eyes shifting to you suspiciously. They talk in hushed voices, Joel standing with his head cocked, hands on hips and signature clenched jaw.

Tommy finally smiles your way and walks over to greet you. He’s handsome and much friendlier than Joel and you instantly feel welcome.

“I can’t believe you survived the whole ride with him,” Tommy jokes.

A laugh bubbles from your throat.

“I see you inherited all the charm and wit.”

Tommy’s smile widens and he casually throws an arm over your shoulder as he leads you into the town.

“I like her better than you already,” he shoots over his shoulder at Joel, who follows your steps with a scowl.

After you get settled in your new place Joel comes to retrieve you for a bite to eat.

“Hungry?” he asks

“Starving actually.”

His dark eyes study you before he gestures toward the large bar/hall with an arm held out. You walk ahead and feel the press of his hand at your lower back as he reaches to open the door for you.

You lean into his touch and search the space, feeling slightly overwhelmed as several sets of unknown eyes turn to examine you.

Joel’s fingers splay at your back, sending tingles along your spine, then slide over to the curve of your waist. He pulls you into his side and walks you to an empty table.

“Don’t mind them,” he whispers. “They aren’t used to new people.”

You nod and miss his touch instantly as he releases you to pull out your chair. Your meal is eaten in relative silence but you don’t miss how his eyes drift to you at every opportunity.

“You know,” he starts, surprising you once again by speaking first, “if you need help building anythin’ for your plants…your mangoes, I can help.”

You giggle at his joke and lean in closer.

“Do you know a lot about farming?”

He pauses with the spoon half way to his mouth and the corner of his lips lift slightly.

“Enough.”

You let out a playful scoff. “That’s convincing.”

“I can definitely build you plant beds…”

“I’ll take any help I can get,” you say with a smile.

The next week goes by in a blur of meeting new people and adjusting to new routines. You still can’t believe you’ve found a safe place to be. It may not last forever but for now you’re going to be nothing but grateful.

You seek Joel out regularly, stealing as much time with him as you can even if he remains quiet more often than not. He’s more talkative than before and always answers your questions, adding an occasional playful joke here or there, but seems to prefer the comfortable silence between the two of you.

It’s on one particularly warm and sunny morning that Joel scratches at the back of his neck, a feeling of anxiousness crawling over his skin. He tries to tamp down the twitch of alarm but it’s useless, the sense only growing stronger as more time passes.

Where did you say you’d be this morning?

He drops the tool from his hand and heads for the old barn shed, remembering your words about looking for some old planting equipment. He’s almost at the partially closed doors when he hears voices. At first he can’t make out the words since they are hushed but when he hears your clear, “no, move,” he pushes open the doors with a bang.

He enters the barn with his fingers digging into his palms and his breath coming in deep through his nose. Your eyes shoot wide when you see him and Jack, the man who has you cornered, follows your line of vision and steps back immediately.

“You ok sweetheart?” Joel asks through clenched teeth.

You look at Jack and narrow your eyes. “I am now.”

“We were just…” Jack starts.

Joel holds up his hand and steps closer to Jack. “If you ever have trouble understanding the word ‘no,’ again, I’ll be more than happy to explain what it means.”

Jack stiffens at Joel’s dangerous tone and warning words and with a barely perceptible nod he walks out without looking back.

Joel’s eyes follow him until he’s out of sight then he moves purposefully toward you with long strides.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says quietly. “Are you ok?”

“You’re sorry?” you repeat. “But…”

“I didn’t warn you. I shouldn’t have let him within ten feet of you.”

“Well you took care of it. I don’t think he’ll ever come near me again.”

“Better not,” he grits out. “Or he’ll have to deal with me.”

A small smile plays upon your lips and you take a step closer, resting your hands on his biceps.

“I should be thanking you.”

You stare up at him and in a move he never expects you lift your hands to his hair and slide them through his soft curls, pulling him down for a kiss.

For a moment you think he’s going to pull back but when your tempting curves mold to his body and you let out a soft moan he smooths one hand up your back and the other around your waist, tucking you into him as he deepens the kiss.

You whisper his name, brushing your lips to his and getting some air before you kiss him again. He walks backward until you hit the wooden wall behind you, his entire body slotted against yours so you can feel every inch of him.

“Fuck,” he groans out, maintaining intense eye contact when he traces your jaw with his thumb then gently sweeps it across your swollen lips.

“Been wantin’ to kiss you since the moment I laid eyes on you sweetheart,” he admits.

“Just kiss me?” you ask, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

He dips his head, his nose softly bumping yours as his lips hover above yours.

“No…not just…”

“JOEL?!”

At the sound of Tommy’s loud call Joel grumbles a curse and rests his forehead to yours. He reluctantly steps away but takes your hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, gently kissing your palm and then the curve of your fingertips.

He doesn’t say anything as he backs away and disappears between the doors with a tender release of your hand. You remain rooted in place, unable to do more than press your tingling fingers to your tingling lips.

When the rest of the day passes without any sign of Joel you start to worry you imagined the spark between you and maybe pushed him too far. Dinner time comes and goes and you still don’t see him but before you head to your small house to retire for the night you catch Tommy’s wife, Maria, outside and rush over to ask her if she’s seen Joel.

Her expression is somber before she answers.

“They left this morning,” she says quietly as she delicately rubs her belly.

“Left?”

Maria nods. “Trouble at the border. Tommy wouldn’t get into details but he seemed worried.”

You swallow thickly and thank her, letting her know to get you if she needs anything. Once you’re back inside your place you lean against the door and go over every interaction and every word, although few, between you and Joel.

Why didn’t he tell you and say goodbye? When would he be back? He had to come back…

Two full days pass with no sign of them. You linger at the window every morning and night, hoping to hear the distinct clop of hooves on the dirt.

It isn’t until midnight comes and goes and the clear sky is filled with twinkling bright stars that you’re awakened by the sound of a heavy knock at your door.

You startle from your sleeping spot on the couch and listen again, wondering if it’s your imagination.

Knock, knock.

“Sweetheart. It’s me. Let me in.”

You stand just beyond the threshold, your fingers hovering over the doorknob.

“Open the door for me darlin.’ I have to see you.”

The lock turns and very slowly the door opens.

You’re standing there in his flannel, barefoot and fragile.

“You’re back,” you state, your tone wary.

He waits for any sign of apprehension then brushes past you and spins around, taking you with him and bracing one large hand above your head to push the door closed with a click.

When he leans in closer and crowds you against the hard surface your lips part in awareness and his mouth grazes yours gently.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you before I left.”

“Joel,” you start, shaking your head. “You don’t owe me any goodbyes…”

“But?” he adds.

“I was so worried…and I missed you.”

His fingers fall to the buttons of his shirt, slipping through the large openings at your waist and coasting over the front of your panties.

“Missed you too sweetheart. Been thinkin’ about how sweet those lips taste for the last two damn days.”

Without wasting another moment he brings his mouth down on yours, a low groan spilling from his throat. His hands cradle your face, his lips trailing along your jaw to your ear.

“Are you gonna let me find out if you’re sweet all over? he whispers.

Instead of answering, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug him down for another searing kiss. He presses you harder against the door and circles his hips so you can feel him hard along your stomach.

“You gonna give me a nice little taste darlin’?”

Your fingernails lightly drag down his chest, watching as his eyes darken and the muscles in his throat work over his hard swallow.

When your hands fall to the first closed button of his shirt, the one you’re still wearing, he groans and let’s his gaze fall to track the movement. You slowly unbutton it and drag a finger down, parting the fabric until you reach the next button and do the same, inch by inch exposing your bare skin.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re drivin’ me outta my goddamn mind.”

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the busted engine

lilac, chapter one

a/n: the plot of this series came to me like fucking lightning, essentially all at once with how quick it fell into place. sometimes it's like that, sometimes magic happens in your brain. I hope you all enjoy this ride as much as I am having writing it. get ready for everything, because I've got twenty chapters planned out and ready, and spoiler, they aren't all just gonna be insanely wholesome small town cuteness... we getting angsty... we getting the drama.... but most of all, we be getting slutty. strap in folks.

summary: “I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, car trouble, meet cute

word count: 2674

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Your vision couldn’t help but linger every time it drifted over your hands gripping the steering wheel. The immense weight the sight of your bare ring finger lifted off your shoulders was so overwhelming that you found yourself fighting tears from blurring the road before you. 

The sun was beginning to set as you had been driving all day long, not stopped for even a second to let the gravitas sink in of what you’d done at the crack of dawn. 

The fear of Preston stirring from his slumber and finding you in the midst of sneaking out still hadn’t settled within your gut. Your paranoid brain still compelled you to check the rear-view mirror every couple of seconds just in case the sleek sportscar of your former fiancé would appear.

You had finally done what he had drilled into your mind you weren’t capable of. You’d left him for good. 

Equipped with only a small backpack of your belongings, the last thing you’d done before sneaking out of the apartment had been to toss the ring he had so insistently forced upon your finger into the trash. 

Ripping you out of your cloudy thoughts, your car suddenly began to cough like a mythical monster that was dying. 

“Oh shit…” you felt the vehicle begin to slow as ominous smoke started to billow out from under the hood. Mindful of the bushy pine trees framing the road, you guided it to the edge just in time before it gave out. 

Stepping out with an exhausted sigh, you promptly cracked the front open to take a look, though what you saw within didn’t soothe your worries as all of the fumes oozing out only made the broken engine look like that much more of a mess. 

“Fucking great,” you mumbled heatedly, fiercely slamming the hood shut in an effort to relieve some of your abundant stress. Curving back around, you swung the passenger side open and rummaged for your phone, though when you located it, the only solution it flashed you was a blinking red battery icon before the screen went completely black, “seriously?” 

Not knowing if you were about to scream or burst into tears, you chucked it back inside before hurling your spine against the side of the car, leaning against it as you cursed up at the grey sky. 

Was this the universe showing its true bias? You’d hoped that was the one thing money couldn’t buy, but perhaps you were wrong, just like he always said you were. Perhaps it would be best if you went back to the city. His reaction towards a stunt like this couldn’t be that bad compared to what you had endured before, could it? 

The sound of another vehicle cresting the thicket on the rural road caught your ears and you turned your head to see a navy-blue truck appear.

Your hand shot up to wave it down before you could even ponder the action. Fearing that it was a lost cause by the speed the driver was going at, it caught you by surprise as it suddenly came to a halt a ways in front of you. 

“Are you alright, ma'am?” the driver asked as he slammed his door shut behind him. The tall man certainly looked like the type to call the area his home. Dark beard scraggly and hair in unkept waves long enough to tickle the furrow lines decorating his forehead, his wide palm traced the lines of the truck as he made his way towards you.

“I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

Eyeing your busted vehicle a moment, his low timbre then rumbled out once more, “sure,” as he reached into his pocket and fished out his telephone.

“Thank you so much,” seizing it, you swiftly clicked it to life, “you have no idea what a lifesaver you are–, oh fuck,” your vision zeroed in on the lack of bars in the uppermost corner, “of course there’s no fucking services out here,” your eyes briefly screwed shut and your jaw clenched in an effort not to scream, “it’s fine, it’s fine! I’ll just walk then!” you tried not the throw it as you handed the phone back to the helpful stranger, “I’m sorry that you had to stop for nothing, but thank you anyways.”

Swinging your door open to yank out your stuff, the stranger’s feet stayed fast, “what direction are you headed?” 

“Dunbrook,” you answered as your body folded to reach your tossed telephone.

“You wanna catch a ride?” he unexpectedly offered, causing you to bump your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow–, what?” you blinked back at him through the windshield as your hand shot up to rub the top of your now sore head, “no, I couldn’t… I–, uh, I kinda recognise this area, the town is not too far from here, so I can walk, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, but it’ll properly still take you all night. Please, it’s no bother, I’m headed in that direction anyways.” 

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you slowly retracted out of the vehicle, “you sure?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, attempting a faint smile in order to soften his gruff and intimidating features. 

“Alright,” swinging your backpack on you slammed your busted car shut, “thank you.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, you clicked on the seatbelt and slotted your bag between your legs. Fiddling tensely with the straps for a moment, it dawned on you how your sleeves were still rolled all the way up to your elbows from when you had checked under the hood. Pulse instantly picking up and thumping in your ears, you hastily tugged them back down to cover the lavender bruises peaking out. 

Had he noticed?

Hearing the door slam to your left, being too caught up in your own mess, it only caused your form to jump in the seat.

Trying to play it off as nothing, you attempted a casual, “I’m Y/n by the way,” though your voice came out much more strangled than you’d intended. 

Catching your flickering eye a moment before turning the key, he likewise enlightened, “Pete.” 

Your bottom lip didn’t escape the prison of your teeth the entire ride, gnawing subconsciously at it as you purposely stare out at the wild flora you passed in order to not look at the advantageous stranger. 

Though after you passed the crooked sign welcoming you back to your small hometown, Pete’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“So, where can I drop you off?”

“The inn,” you turned your head to inform him, “the Lilac Inn, if you know where that is.”

“Yeah, I know it,” he nodded, sucking in a knowing breath as if he didn’t need any more information to figure you out, “so you’re a tourist? One of those nature people who come out here to hike or something?”

“Not exactly,” was all the explanation you offer as you watched the familiar scenery come into view. 

Dunbrook. To call it a town was very generous indeed as the whole population could properly fit under the same roof if they really wanted to, and they often did. The rolling fields of wildlife that surrounded the village also divided and broke up the infrastructure of the old settlement, causing most of the homes and businesses to not all the clustered together as you had grown accustomed to seeing after moving to a metropolis as vast as New York. 

Every familiar structure rolling by evoked memories long ago buried and forgotten. The corner where you fell learning how to ride a bike. The quaint general store where you once stole a lollipop, walked for all of 48 seconds before turning right back and apologising to the owner with tears in your eyes. But most of all, the large Victorian structure at the bottom of the tiny town by far held the fondest of memories in your heart. 

The dust puffed up around the truck as you rolled down the narrow dirt road, the bushy lilac trees that flourished all over the property haven not quite yet come into bloom, yet still forewarned your destination that already peaked over the tops. 

“Here it is,” Pete exhaled as the car came to a stop before the vast veranda, “the Lilac Inn.” 

Eyes glued to your childhood home, you stepped out of the truck, “thank you,” slamming the door shut, you turned to add awkwardly through the rolled down window, “and also thank you for not turning out to be an axe murderer or something,” a nervous laugh swiftly bubbling out at the notion.

Glancing back at your bumbling form, he simply flashed you a tight-lipped smile and said, “you have a good trip, ma'am.” 

“You too–, I mean, you have a good, uhm, rest of your life,” you fumbled as your feet slowly backed up, “it was nice meeting you, Pete.” 

“Yeah, you too,” he just managed to reply before you spun your mortified flush away from his stare and scurried up the steps of the porch. 

Pushing the creaky, stained glass adorn front door open, you tiptoed inside. 

The lighting dim and the atmosphere nothing short of comforting, a smile finally bloomed upon your lips as you let out the breath you’d been holding for who knows how long. 

Peeking around the corner into one of the sitting rooms, you only spotted one patron sitting by the small round table next to the crackling fireplace, working away at a puzzle. Either the others had gone to bed already or this fellow was the only one staying here. 

“Excuse me,” you gently interrupted from the archway, “would you happen to know where the owner, Harvey, is–”

Though before you managed to get out the remainder of the sentence, a bustle from the kitchen answered your question for you, “every time I forget to whisk long enough and every time I say it’s gonna be different, but this time I mean it!”

Sharing a knowing look with the guest, you chuckle, “never mind…” 

“This time I won't just stop when my arm feels like it’s gonna fall off,” even though it was clear he was talking to himself, his usual vibrato still carried, “oh no, no, you just wait and see how light and fluffy you turn out this time, cake!” 

Poking your head through the ajar door, you spotted the familiar greying man grumbling into the contents of the bowl he was furiously beating with a whisk. 

“Dad?”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, your father gasped, whisk jolting upright as he laid his eyes upon you, subsequently splattering some batter across the kitchen, back near the sink, “Y/n?” he exclaimed, his eyes growing to the size of saucers, “is that really you? Is my little baby girl really standing in my kitchen or is this a hallucination?”

“Hi,” your head tilted in a soft chuckle. 

Starring at you as if you were just a newborn puppy, “oh, come here, munchkin and give your pops a hug!” the moustachioed man’s arms went wide and pulled you in, dripping whisk still in his hand as he blubbered into your hair, “ah, I’ve missed you so much,” squeezing your form in the magical way that only parents could, “I haven’t heard from you in, well I don’t even know how long, that’s how long and if you ask me then that’s too long,” he pulled back, cupping your cheek as he gazed at you, “you don’t write, you don’t call.”

“Not true, I do write,” you corrected him light-heartedly, “and you don’t have a cellphone.” 

“Well, there’s the telephone out in reception, why would I need more?” he shrugged, lending you to then slip out of his grip, swiftly boosting your own form to hop onto one of the empty counters, “also, your last letter was 10 months ago.” 

“No, it wasn’t, was it?” you gasped, thinking back.

“You can check the date, they’re still in the cookie tin up there,” he gestured to one of the top shelves before reuniting the whisk in his grip with the large bowl on the table. 

Only briefly glancing up at the enamel box, you already knew that you didn’t wanna revisit them. However vague the letters were, which they always were, you were still certain that they’d have the power to send you right back there into Preston’s iron fist, even though you’d never even mentioned him once in all the years you’d been with him. They only ever really contained small talk and pleasantries, never about something so personal as to whom you were dating, but you also didn’t share at all as things took a turn for the worse, when you were in so deep that you felt like you couldn’t escape. Perhaps it was out of pride, perhaps it was to shield him from the truth, or maybe even in a way yourself, not admitting to the fiend you had welcomed into your own bed, creating some false reality as a coping mechanism. 

Averting your gaze, you then uttered softly, “I’m really sorry dad,” gliding your right thumb over the jagged edge of the counter as you gripped onto it with both fists.

“Ah, it’s fine,” he waved a hand, “you’re young, out there living your life. You shouldn’t have to check in with your father every few seconds. I am aware that you’re 29 after all. Although, you know I wouldn’t be a pose to just a little bit more…” he winked, playfully bumping the side of his hip against your shin before picking up the speed of the whisk once more, “so, did I forget it’s my birthday or did you just miss your old man?” his jovial glance flickered between you and the batter. 

“Can I stay here a while? I just need some place to,” lay low, “figure things out, you know?”

Whisk halting, his gaze upon you grew in concern, “of course you can, honey. Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay, I just–, uh… needed a change,” not looking him in the eye, you spoke, “I don’t know to where or what I’m gonna do next, but I do know that I don’t wanna go back,” you felt a lump of emotion swell up in your throat, “and I won’t just stay here for free, I’ll pay you rent,” you tried to appease the stubborn sensation of being a nuance to everyone, even to your own kin, “though I don’t really have any money right now, so I’d have to get a job first, but that’s fine, I’ll figure something out–” 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” your father cut you off, “you can stay here as long as you want, it never stopped being your home even when you moved away. Still keep your room exactly the same, just in case,” he offered you a warm smile, his silver moustache stretching wider, “how about you just give me a hand around here, huh?” 

“Alright,” you exhaled, “deal.”

His grin turning more mischievous, he then noted slyly, “you know I’ve always dreamed of you taking over this place one day, running the family business…” 

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled, “not this again…”

“Just think about, you could–”

“Dad, I’m not gonna take over the inn! Running a place like this isn’t what it used to be back when your parents opened it up. You might have always been dead set on taking over it, but I haven’t.”

“I know, I know,” he gracefully backed down again as he always did, “you want adventure, isn’t that what you called it when you went away for college?” 

Adventure… it was that kind of philosophy that had sent an innocent young girl into the arms of a devil…

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #frank castle angst #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort

[virtualreader]

roadside temptations

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: the car breaks down on the way back to the prison when you and Rick were coming back from a small run, and you figure out a way to kill time.

word count: 1,7k.

warnings: fingering, manturbation (female reciving), thigh riding, unprotected sex (p in v), cursing, praising, dick riding, etc. not proofread.

requested: yes (by anonymous).

+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!

As the car continued along the road, the gentle rumble of the engine slowly began to transform into a more noticeable rattling sound, and the once smooth ride became slightly more unstable as the vehicle began to wobble ever so lightly.

You and Rick had gone on a supply run to gather the essentials - medical supplies and food - and anything useful you could find. Given the current state of things, you knew that every little thing counted. It was supposed to be a day's journey; however, as luck would have it, your vehicle did not seem up to your wishes, as it malfunctioning and running slower than usual.

“That doesn’t sound exactly nice and smooth,” you said, pointing out the worrying clatter coming from the motor. “Do you think we should stop and check it out?”

"It's probably best if we do," Rick agreed. He didn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, having just a couple of hours left until sunset. "'M gonna pull over to that siding, and I'll take a look at it.”

Rick did as said, stopping the car when he had reached the pull-off. He opened the driver’s seat door and step out, heading to the front of the car. You watched as Rick popped open the hood and began to inspect the engine, a troubled expression breaking across his once calm features after he poked around a bit.

Rick followed instructions and stopped the car at the pull-off. He got out of the driver’s seat and walked to the front of the car. You observed as Rick opened the hood and inspected the engine.

After poking around for a while, a troubled expression crossed his previously calm features. Rick slamed the hood shut with a loud bang, and, with his thumbs in his pockets, returned to the car, behind the wheel.

"Looks like we're stuck here for a while," he said, turning to face you.

“If only you’d listened to me when I told you,” you scolded Rick. “We should’ve checked everything was in order before setting off.”

He was in such a hurry to depart that he didn't even stop to verify the condition of the engine. He was to blame for your setback.

While you rebuked Rick, his gaze remained glued to your lips, moving as you spoke.

"Are you listening to me at all?" you asked Rick, shaking your head in exasperation.

“God, you're so fucking hot when you're mad," he said with a smirk.

"You're a lost cause, you know that, right?" you sigh, still trying to hold onto your annoyance with Rick, on the brink of succumbing to his pleading eyes.

"Maybe," Rick responds with a wry smile, "but you long for this lost cause to touch you." His voice is playful and teasing, and it has the abillity to snap you out of your anger.

It's not that you don't appreciate Rick's sense of humor and charm - it's just that sometimes, it can be a little too much, especially when you're in a stressful situation like this one. But as he sits there beside you in the car, his eyes sparkling with mischief, you can’t help feeling the fluttering butterflies, the same ones you got back when he first started flirting with you.

As he moved his hand along the exposed skin of your thigh, you felt a rush of desire course through your body. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine and you found yourself yearning for more. You wondered what it would be like to have his hands explore every inch of your body, to feel his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as you melted under his touch.

You gave in to your desires and crossed over to the driver's seat, straddling Rick.

In a sudden and spontaneous movement, he grabbed your arms and pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips against yours in a fervent and ardent kiss. If you could not make it home, you might as well enjoy the privacy the deserted roads provided.

You interrupted the kiss, opening your eyes to observe his face, which you held in your hands. You noticed the way his eyes sparkled in the fading light, and the way his lips curved into a small smile. How you had gotten so lucky to have found someone like him in this chaotic and unpredictable world?

You buried your face in the crook of his neck and sucked, savoring the salty flavor of his perspiring skin. The lustful action elicited a grunt from Rick, and seeing him enjoying it only made you hornier.

Unable to resist the temptation to indulge your erotic desires, you began rubbing your denim-covered pussy on Rick's leg. The sensation was electric as you indulged in your carnal urges, your body responding with increasing arousal and a sense of unbridled wildness.

"Behave, babygirl, " Rick gasped, trying to keep some semblance of control. “Quit that if you want me to please you anytime soon.”

But you were relentless, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Rick's voice was strained as he fought to keep his composure, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of desire and amusement. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart race.

Despite his warning, you couldn't resist the temptation to tease him, to see just how far you could push him. You continued to grind your hips against his leg, feeling the friction and the growing wetness between your thighs. Your breathing became more and more erratic as the pleasure built inside you, and you could tell that Rick was struggling to keep up his facade of control.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" he growled, his hands tightening on your hips. "Because if that's your plan, it's working."

You smirked, feeling a sense of power in the way you were able to affect him.

"Maybe," you said, your voice low and sultry. "Or maybe I just want you to take me right here in this car."

Rick's eyes widened at your boldness, and for a moment you thought he might actually give in to your demands. But then he shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips.

Rick pushed a hand against your chest, gently but firmly, conveying both his desire and authority, moving you back so he could access the button on your shorts, and, using just one hand, he undid it effortlessly. There was little space inside the tea green Hyundai SUV, hence the steering wheel digging your back as the man under you battled to roll your pants down.

"No panties?" You gave a feeble smile as the corners of your lips turned up when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear under your shorts. "You sure are a dirty little slut, ain't you?”

His large hands griped you tights, spreading your legs so you were stradling his lap. Your eyes closed, anticipation taking over you when his hard boner grazed your crotch through the denim fabric. You moaned in response to his fingers caresses in your cunt, which soon turned into a swifter rub, his middle and ring finger at both sides of your clit.

As the passion between you and Rick grew, you heard him whisper in your ear, "You can get louder, can't you?" and you responded by letting out a moan of pleasure.

The sound only seemed to encourage him as he continued to touch and explore your body, his hand working its way up under your shirt until he reached your tit, stroking it between his cold fingertips. You were completely under his spell, and you loved every moment of it.

A gasp left your mouth when he slided a finger inside you without prior notice.

“Rick.” you muttered in a submissive wail.

“What do you want, honey?” he teased, adding another finger to his pumping. “Is it me?”

You hummed in agreement, your eyes closed and head tilted backward as your walls squeezed his fingers. Signs of an impending orgasm emerged, the swell of bliss making its way up your core.

Yet, your expression of rapture quickly changed to one of disappointment when Rick's fingers left your hole, the sense of emptiness outweighing any pleasure.

"If you want to come, you better beg," he growled in your ear, and you knew you were completely under his control.

“Please, Rick” with a soft whimper, you begged him to take you, to make you his completely. “I want you, I want you to fill me.”

Without a second thought, his own urgency beyond human limits, Rick pulled the lever under the bottom of the seat, and it swung back, increasing the wiggrling space. He pulled up his shirt and pulled down his trousers before freeing his throbbing member from the suffocating fabric of his stone grey boxers.

At the sight, your mouth watered, and you eagerly mounted his erect, precum-dripping cock. you began to bounce up and down, your hips meeting in a sensual rhythm with each thrust.

"Attagirl," Rick praised you amidst his own gleefulness.

The car may have broken down and left you stranded on the side of the road, but in that moment, all you could think about was the intense desire that had overtaken your body. You wanted to feel Rick's hands over you, as your bodies melted into one, to be completely consumed by the zeal of this moment.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Rick whispered in your ear as you rode him, your hips moving faster and faster as you approached the brink of orgasm.

You moaned in response, your body writhing with pleasure as Rick's hands roamed over your body, touching you in all the right places as you rode him harder and harder.

You reached your peak, your body shaking with ecstasy as you came hard, your walls contracting around Rick's cock as he pumped into you one last time before spilling his own release inside you.

As you collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily, you couldn't help but think that getting stuck on the side of the road might have been the best thing that ever happened to you.

#twd #amc #the walking dead #twd x reader #twdxreader #rick grimes #rickgrimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes x reader fluff #rick grimes x y/n #twd rick #grimes

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen: Room For Three

Plot: Two weeks after Silver Lake, Joel, Y/n and Ellie travel the final stretch to Salt Lake City.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: language, implied violence, implied attempted SA, detailed description of s*icide attempt, mention of loss of a child, injuries, (16+)

A/N: Well, we’re almost to the end….I hope this grand finale for Joel and Rosebud is equally as enjoyable as the show’s finale. I still haven’t recovered from it…

A small detail that I had to retcon because of the timeline of Joel at the triage clinic…the breakup now occurred two days after Sarah’s death rather than three. I played with it as much as I could, but that’s what fit the best.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who doesn’t have their age/range specified in their bio.

Read on, my loves! Enjoy the mind-numbing fluff before the angst…❤️‍🩹

—————

Y/n felt frozen.

It had been two weeks since Silver Lake, since Ellie and her had fought their way out of, and delivered. a gruesome fate, Joel catching them in the aftermath. Stuck somewhere between being present and comfortably dazed, Y/n felt like she couldn’t fully pull herself out of the numbness that had set in after their escape.

They’d arrived just outside of Salt Lake City, Joel and Y/n briefly left Ellie to rifle through abandoned vehicles for supplies. Joel moved around with the freedom he had weeks before, his injury having fully healed. Y/n, on the other hand, had slowed down significantly. The fight with David had left her with at least two cracked ribs, causing every breath and step to send waves of pain through her. It had caused them a longer travel time.

“Find anything?” Joel asked from the front of the RV.

Y/n dug through the bathroom cabinet, finding a few loose tampons and old, visibly used, toothbrushes.

“Nothing for you,” she announced, sticking the feminine products in her backpack and exiting the bathroom. She found Joel going through the kitchenette.

“Check it out,” Joel victoriously held up a can of Chef Boyardee, “For Ellie.”

Y/n smiled softly, “She’ll like that.”

The change in Joel that had occurred on his and Y/n’s fateful night in Jackson seemed to be long-lasting. He was smiling practically all the time, his voice had lifted from its gruff timber, and he was unbelievably talkative. Y/n had watched as the man she loved slowly came back to himself, she was trying her hardest to meet him there.

She finished up looking for supplies, kneeling on a dusty old couch and checking the space between it and the wall.

“Oh my gosh,” she muttered.

“Hmm?” Joel hummed, still searching for more food.

Y/n reached into the crack, pulling out the mutilated body of an acoustic guitar and holding it up to Joel in stunned silence. He finally turned around and matched her surprise, a small chuckle escaping him.

“Wow,” he marveled.

“I know,” Y/n flipped it in her palms, looking to see if there was any possible way for Joel to play it.

“Busted to hell,” he said, having crossed the room to examine the instrument, “Lemme see.”

Joel took it into his hands, attempting to hold the splintered wood with pieces dangling off it, and form a chord on the fretboard. The sound that came out what horrendous.

“I guess you need it in one piece for it to sound good,” Y/n grimaced.

“Yeah, little bit,” Joel smiled, setting the instrument on the couch, “Nice to dream though.”

“Yeah,” Y/n said, her tone far off as she watched Joel hesitate to take his hand off the guitar’s neck. All along the journey, there’d been little moments where she’d recognized him from twenty years before, but this…this was an essential piece of who he was.

Joel dragged his eyes up to meet Y/n’s, she was smiling at him.

“What?”

“It’s just really fucking unfair that the world comes to an end and you still look this good,” Y/n commented.

Joel practically snorted, shaking his head at the compliment, “Haven’t showered in three weeks.”

“Notice that I said look and not smell,” Y/n smirked, crossing her arms and pushing off the wall to walk past him.

Joel reached out, grasping Y/n’s elbows and gently pulling her back to him. Despite her slow progress, her ribs were still a nuisance, and he’d handled her like china since Silver Lake.

“How they feeling?” Joel changed the subject, spreading a hand across Y/n’s abdomen.

“Not as bad as the other day,” Y/n answered, taking as deep a breath as she could so Joel could feel the motion, “But it’d be nice to sit for a while.”

It wasn’t a request so much as a pipe dream without the smoke. Y/n needed more time to heal than they had.

Feeling powerless against the body’s healing capabilities, Joel stroked his thumb over Y/n’s belly and kissed her forehead.

“Hey,” he mumbled, bending down to pick up a box near their feet, “You always destroyed me in this. Think Ellie might like it?”

Y/n looked down at his hands, it was a Boggle box, something she hadn’t seen in a long time. She glanced up at Joel, admiring how hard he was trying to make their lives any brighter.

Joel could feel Y/n’s eyes on him and met her gaze, “You’re starin’ again.”

Shaking her head and smiling, Y/n pressed a kiss to Joel’s shoulder and walked off towards the RV door.

Joel watched her leave, she was moving slow with something other than pain. Neither her or Ellie had been the same since Silver Lake. Y/n had given Joel fragments of the harrowing tale, but he had yet to have the whole story. He knew better than to push, they’d come to him when they were ready, but it broke his heart to see the two of them anything less than whole. Making a point to grab the board game and the Beefaroni, he left the RV.

Y/n paced herself as she crossed the highway, still timing her inhalations in the beat between steps. It didn’t take more than one or two long legged strides for Joel to catch up with her.

“Good news, we don’t have to hunt tonight,” Joel called to Ellie, who had her back turned to him, “Ellie.”

The girl was seated in the back of a flatbed, still as can be.

“Ellie,” Joel called out again, the third time a little louder.

Y/n sighed, knowing she was in her own world. “El!”

She finally turned around.

“D’ya hear me?” Joel asked.

“No,” Ellie replied, her voice sounding painfully innocent, “What?”

“Well, I found this in there,” Joel gestured back to the RV before holding up the can, “Beefaroni. Chef Boyardee.”

Sensing that this was a big victory for Joel, Ellie forced as much a smile as she was capable of, “Oh, cool.”

Joel’s grin faded, thinking the nostalgia might have been enough to get a genuine reaction. Y/n trailed behind him as he made his way to the truck.

“And have you ever played this?” Joel held up the game for her, “Boggle. It’s a word game.”

“Mm-mm,” Ellie shook her head.

“Well, if you wanna beat me at somethin’,” Joel continued, “It would be this.”

Y/n watched the exchange, leant up against the side of the truck and trying not to look directly at her people. It hurt to see Ellie glazed over just as much as it hurt to see Joel trying so hard to break through the layers of trauma.

“Well, all right then,” Joel announced, sensing Ellie’s mood, “We’re gettin’ close.”

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie nodded.

“Hospital’s that way,” Joel nodded down the freeway, “May be the one we’re lookin’ for.”

“Got it,” Ellie pushed off of the flatbed.

Y/n waited for Ellie to grab her backpack before falling into step with her. The girl didn’t have a particular favorite between Joel and Y/n, but with Y/n having been present for the events at Silver Lake, she was drawing closer to her. Closer being a relative term…

“Take this for me,” Joel held out the rifle to Ellie, letting her hold it as he strapped his backpack back on, “Thanks.”

The three of them set off once more, but not before Joel snuck one last longing gaze at the inside of the RV, or rather its contents.

“They had a guitar in that RV,” he began to tell Ellie, “It was all smashed up, but got me thinkin’, maybe I should find one. I haven’t played in forever. In fact, I was thinkin’, maybe I could teach you. I bet you’d be great at it.”

Ellie gave a slight chuckle, it was her best try.

“Do you wanna learn how to play guitar?” Joel asked, his hopeful gaze sitting on Ellie’s face, recieveing no answer. “Ellie?”

“Hm?” Ellie snapped back to the conversation, “Oh, yeah. That’d be great.”

Joel looked behind Ellie’s back and met Y/n’s waiting gaze, the helplessness in his eyes so very clear. He didn’t know how to bring her back.

The three of them hiked through the city, heading in the general direction of the hospital. They eventually snaked through an alley.

“Okay, so this is what I’m thinkin’-“ Joel began to lay out their plan.

“Cut through that building to get around that stuff,” Ellie nodded towards the massive pile of rubble ahead, “Find the skyscraper, go up and look around.”

“Uhh, actually this time,” Joel changed course, “I was thinkin’ we blast our way through that rubble. I found some dynamite in that RV back there.”

Ellie’s ears perked up, while Y/n just smirked, “Really?”

“No,” Joel answered, “So we’re gonna cut through that building, find a skyscraper and look around,” he turned back and gauged Ellie’s reaction, “But I had you goin’, didn’t I?”

By virtue of having lived through the whole of the pandemic as an adult, it was easier for Y/n to be drawn out by Joel’s loving attempts. She’d seen the worst of humanity long before Ellie was born, and that allowed her to chuckle at Joel’s joke.

The threesome climbed the tallest skyscraper they could find. The lack of much inside told them that it had been abandoned before the pandemic had started.

“Look at this place,” he muttered as they walked past pallets and exposed beams, “Talk about bad luck. Military drops bombs, not one of ‘em hits the building you’re tryin’ to demolish.”

Y/n smiled at nothing other than the fact that Joel was talking so much before unlatching a gate to a closed off area of the site. Inside were tables with schematics and loose supplies, along with their only way to the next floor.

“Think I found our way up,” she announced, staring up at the open floor at least ten feet above them.

Joel came to her side and evaluated the height, the tip of an old ladder dangling over the edge. Y/n was in no condition for him to lift her up and retrieve it.

“I get you up there, you can drop that ladder down,” he called out to Ellie, “Maybe we go through that way. Come on, I’ll give you a boost.”

Y/n glanced over to Ellie, once again tuned out of their conversation and absentmindedly looking over the building schematics. Once Joel noticed her as well, the two of them made their way over.

“You okay?” Joel asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ellie turned away from the table and averted her eyes.

“It’s just you kinda seem extra quiet today,” Joel said, trying to tiptoe around the matter, “So…”

“Oh,” Ellie quickly changed gears, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Joel reassured her, “Did you hear what I-“

“Yeah,” Ellie replied, “Boost. Got it.”

Without another word on the subject, the three of them walked back to the wooden pallets. Joel took the main spot holding Ellie’s foot while Y/n stood by, ready to help her if she wobbled.

“One, two,” Joel grunted, “Up!”

He lifted Ellie into the air and she shimmied her way onto the next level, Y/n nervously held her hands out like she did every time they did this.

“You good?” Y/n called up.

“Yeah,” Ellie twisted the rest of her body onto the floor. She started to lower the ladder down to Joel when her eye caught something, “Whoa…”

Ellie dropped the ladder, letting it slide past Joel and Y/n and clatter to the floor.

“Damn it, Ellie,” Joel exclaimed as he went to pick it up, “Shit.”

“Stay there,” Y/n called, trying to help Joel lift the ladder and instantly feeling the pain in her ribs, “Ah!”

Joel took the whole of the weight, “Don’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/n grunted, clutching her abdomen. She hated being out of commission just as much as Joel had hated her babying after his own injury.

Joel leaned the ladder against the next floor and helped Y/n up, waiting at the bottom until she was all the way up in case she fell.

“You gotta see this,” Ellie cried out.

“Gee,” Y/n groaned as she carefully rolled onto her stomach, “If only we had a way up…”

Joel followed suit, pulling Y/n to her feet with great care. “Ellie?!”

“Up here,” the girl yelled, she was already on the next level.

Y/n nodded towards the staircase, “Go, I’ll catch up.”

Reluctantly, Joel let his hand slip from Y/n’s waist and ran up the stairs, chasing after Ellie.

Y/n slowly made her way up the steps, stopping every thirty seconds to take a deep breath before continuing.

“Rose,” Joel would yell down every few seconds, telling her where they were.

“Here,” she’d call back, measuring the distance between their voices.

Eventually, Y/n made it to their floor, Joel was waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He took her hand, helping her up the rest of the way and the two of them walked through the cinderblock halls that at their end revealed…

Life.

Through a massive hole in the wall, a giraffe poked its head in, eating shrubbery that was growing on the building. A little further and there was at least half a mile of green grass and trees growing in the middle of the city. Ellie’s silhouette tied the whole picture together.

Y/n’s breath caught in her chest, it was beautiful.

Joel walked close behind Y/n, letting her take everything in first. He carefully removed his rifle and set it down beside him.

“Don’t scare it,” Ellie whispered.

“I won’t,” he promised, going to the greenery and ripping off a chunk.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.

“It’s all right,” Joel assured her, looking back expectantly, “Come on, hurry up. Come here.”

Y/n nudged Ellie forward, the girl took the leaves from Joel and came back to her spot. She carefully held out the plant to the giraffe, which took it quicker than she’d expected.

Joel held out another large handful to both Y/n and Elie, beaming down at them as they giggled, feeding the giraffe with childlike joy. Something magical was happening. The light was returning to Ellie’s eyes, her nose was scrunching up as she laughed. For the first time in two weeks, she was Ellie again. And because of that, so was Y/n.

Y/n stood beside Ellie with tears in her eyes, the trauma had lost. For just one minute in time, things felt okay again.

“So fucking cool,” Ellie said, just before the giraffe began to walk away, “Aw, where’s she going?”

Ellie took off through the building, chasing after the animal, “Come on, come on, come on, come on.”

Joel spun as he watched her leave, eliciting a laugh out of Y/n.

“You started it,” she smiled.

Joel threw the rifle back over his shoulder and grabbed Y/n’s hand, pulling the two of them down the next hall.

They pushed through the rusted door they’d just heard slam open and shut, and found themselves with an even better view of the greenery. The singular giraffe was part of a heard, six of them, including a baby, grazing in the flower dressed grass. The color alone was more than Joel or Y/n had seen in a while.

Tearing his eyes away from the nature, Joel looked to Y/n, who was struck speechless at the sight. They stood there, both drinking in the separate beauties they’d both been without for so long.

Once Y/n’s eyes caught Ellie, she tugged Joel down the steps and they came to stand beside her.

“So,” Joel said to Ellie, bracing himself against the wall, “Is it everything you hoped for?”

Y/n glanced down and smiled, remembering the first time he’d asked that question.

“It’s got its ups and downs,” she answered before smiling out, “But you can’t deny that view.”

Y/n was too caught up in both Ellie’s momentary joy and her own to catch Joel’s falling face.

“Look, I don’t know exactly where this hospital is-“ he started.

“Yeah, we’ll find it,” Ellie said with quiet confidence.

“Sure, it’s just-“ Joel squinted, searching for the right way to phrase what he wanted to say, “Maybe there’s nothin’ bad out there, but so far there’s always been somethin’ bad out there.”

Ellie shrugged, “We’re still here though.”

“A little worse for the wear,” Y/n grunted, readjusting her stance to accommodate her ribs, “But still here.”

“I know,” Joel replied, “I’m only sayin’ there’s risk.”

Y/n finally started to pay attention to what he was saying, how he was saying it.

“We don’t have to do this,” Joel turned to Ellie, “I just- I want you to know that.”

“What do you mean?” Ellie rotated to face him, “What else are we supposed to do?”

“Yeah, I’m a little lost too,” Y/n nudged Joel’s shoulder, making him split the difference and face them both.

“Nothin’, we just go back to Tommy’s,” Joel answered, “We forget about the whole damn thing.”

It was a shock to Y/n’s system, but not as much as it should have been. What started as a mission to save the remnants of humanity, had evolved into one goal: saving Ellie. The girl had never just been a salvation to Y/n, since the moment she’d met her, but after three months of caring for her…Ellie was so much more than just a cure. Running in the opposite direction to ensure her safety wasn’t the most insane idea for Joel to have.

“After all we’ve been through,” Ellie smiled sadly, “Everything I’ve done…It can’t be for nothing. I know you mean well. I know you wanna protect me, you have,” Ellie glanced past Joel to Y/n, “You both have. And when we’re done, we’ll go wherever you want. Tommy’s, sheep ranch, the moon...”

Joel and Y/n both smiled at the memory.

“I’ll follow you guys anywhere you go,” Ellie said with a finality to her tone, “But there’s no halfway with this. We finish what we started.”

Joel was satisfied with Ellie’s answer, it was her choice and no matter how much she’d follow him or Y/n, it was a two way street.

She had also just referenced a conversation took had never actually taken place.

“El, can you,” Y/n’s hand squirmed against the brick wall, “Can you give us a sec?”

Ellie’s eyes darted between Joel and Y/n, unsure of what had happened somewhere in between her words, “Sure.”

The girl meandered back the way they’d come, no doubt waiting to eavesdrop on the other side of the door.

Joel, for the first time since before Y/n and him had reconciled, was afraid to look into her eyes. He was scared to find an answer he didn’t want.

“We, uh,” Joel’s fist lightly bumped the brick, “We never actually talked about…us…did we?”

Y/n puffed out a deep breath, “No, we, uh…we did not.”

“Huh,” Joel replied, staring out at the giraffes, hoping they would distract him from dropping to his knees and begging Y/n to do what he hadn’t been strong enough to do.

Stay.

Y/n had spent the last three months technically still a Firefly without doing any of the work. Somewhere between Boston and Salt Lake City, she had stopped feeling like one altogether. Without Marlene there or the security of a base of operations and daily tasks, there had been room for something else to fill that void.

Ellie and, eventually, Joel.

“I know you…” Joel already felt he was going to fuck up the conversation, but was trying to delay it, “I know that when we get to the hospital, you’ll probably go back to work but I…” he struggled to keep what he truly wanted to say silent, “I just-“

“Joel,” Y/n held up a hand, turning fully towards him and smiling, “Stop.”

Joel did as requested and shut his mouth.

“I’ve spent the last twenty years just,” Y/n sighed, “Just wandering in circles. Trying to find some way to make the world better. The Fireflies gave me that chance and though our methods haven’t always been the most,” Y/n frowned, “Peaceful…I like to think we’ve done some sort of good.”

Joel’s chest tightened, sensing where the conversation was headed.

Y/n looked back out at the greenery, her confidence suddenly withering under the intensity of Joel’s gaze. “But you,” she said, finding the strength to look back, “You were all I ever really wanted. You, Sarah, Tommy…” Y/n’s throat began to clog with emotion, “You guys were it for me. And I never thought I’d be able to get that back and then…” she shrugged, “I got it.”

Joel’s eyes were starting to mist, it was unavoidable to feel the ghost of Sarah’s presence every time Y/n mentioned their family.

“And I don’t think I could handle losing you a second time,” Y/n strained, smiling past the tears, “I know I couldn’t.”

Joel felt around for her hand and held it as tight as he should have two decades before.

Y/n inhaled deeply, “So this is the last job. That it’s. After today,” she cupped Joel’s cheek, tenderly rubbing her thumb over his scruff, “I’m all yours.”

It was everything Joel wanted to hear, everything.

“We go back to Tommy’s,” Y/n continued, “We go back to that house, and we make it a home.”

The pure relief that released through Joel’s body made him nudge closer, his forehead dropping to touch Y/n’s. He shut his eyes, savoring the rhapsody of the life she was laying out for them.

“I love you,” Joel muttered, the words hanging in the slim space between them. He said it with all the earnestness of someone still trying to make up for their sins.

“I know you do,” Y/n fingers brushed Joel’s lips, trying to reassure him that he didn’t need to prove anything. Their past was their past, and their future would be their future.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Joel said, shaking his head against Y/n’s “I know I gotta earn it.”

Y/n wet her lips and smiled, “I actually said something along the lines when you were passed out.”

Joel pulled back just enough to scan Y/n’s face, “Oh, you did?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/n hummed.

As patient a man as Joel was, he was eager to hear the words he’d been deprived of so long. “You feel like…repeatin’ yourself?”

“Mmm,” Y/n’s smile turned coy, “Not really, no.”

Joel smirked, “No?”

The adoration in Y/n’s eyes couldn’t have been more real, “No.”

Tugging her hips forward, Joel’s lips stretched into a grin as they pressed a deep kiss to Y/n’s.

Y/n had watched her future with Joel come back to life, plummet to its near-death and reawaken in the span of two and a half weeks. She had spent twenty years trying to atone for her failures, and selfishly, she wanted to rest. She wanted to wake up every morning and fall asleep every night in Joel’s arms. She wanted to teach Ellie how to tend to a garden and cook actual food. She wanted to meet Tommy’s kid.

She wanted her life back.

“Are you two done over there?” Ellie called through the rusted steel door.

Y/n and Joel chuckled as they broke apart, Joel lovingly rubbing the tip of his nose against Y/n’s. In a matter of days, they’d have the rest of their lives to hold each other, kiss each other. After they completed their mission, they never had to spend another day apart.

—————————

If Joel and Y/n had made any peace with what had happened to them, it was overshadowed by a darkness only one of them could see.

A half mile from the skyscraper and through a tunnel, lay the carcass of a triage clinic. Joel and Y/n recognized the skeleton immediately, both of them tensing internally for different reasons.

“Was this a FEDRA thing?” Ellie asked, blissfully oblivious.

“No,” Y/n answered, her hand interlocked with Joel’s, “The army set these up the day after the outbreak. Medical camps for people to get their wounds tended to.”

Joel’s finger anxiously rubbed against Y/n’s hand, “They had us in one just like this.”

“With Sarah?” Ellie asked, it was the first time she’d spoken the girl’s name out loud.

“No,” Joel answered, “She was gone already.”

“Oh,” Ellie nodded, “So what was wrong with you guys?”

“I took a bullet to the side,” Y/n said, thinking about the white scar that rested just above her waist.

Joel pointed upwards to the mark on his temple, “It was for this.”

“Ah, the guy who shot and missed,” Ellie remembered from one of their earliest conversations, “I figured that would have happened later.”

“No,” Joel said plainly, “Second day.”

“Wait,” Y/n’s brow creased in confusion, “Why am I not remembering this?”

Joel let Y/n’s hand slip from his as he started to walk sideways, stopping in their tracks. If they were going to spend the rest of their lives together, they had to do it honestly. But he didn’t think he could handle looking into Y/n’s eyes while saying what he was about to.

“Well, I’ve gotta hand it to the Army people,” Ellie continued walking, “They were way better at stitching you up than I was.”

“I still don’t remember this,” Y/n said, a little louder from frustration with her memory.

Joel took just enough breath to get out the truth.

“It was me.”

While Ellie and Y/n both stopped their steps at the same time, the realization of what Joel meant hit them at different speeds. Y/n knew immediately.

“I was the guy who shot and missed,” Joel expanded, his eyes flicking in Y/n’s direction and quickly turning back down. He moved to sit on a piece of concrete, removing his rifle before doing so.

Ellie followed, coming to sit next to him, but Y/n stayed planted where she was, unable to move.

“There’s no story,” Joel began to explain, “Sarah died…and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that.”

The day spun back in Y/n’s head like a VHS tape being rewound over and over. She played back Joel, in all his grief crazed delusions, telling her she was a liar and storming off. His fist breaking through the glass window of the truck before stealing it and speeding off. His glassy, grief-struck gaze…

The signs were all there as to what happened after he’d left.

“And I wasn’t scared either, I was ready,” Joel looked off, remembering the feel of false peace that had fallen over him in that moment, “I couldn’t have been more ready.”

Y/n’s lip trembled before anything else, hesitating between crying and staying silent.

“When I-“ Joel hesitated, chewing on the side of his lip, “When I…went to pull the trigger, I flinched. Still don’t know why.”

Joel didn’t dare look up at Y/n, lest he lose what nerve he still had. “Anyway,” he went back to addressing Ellie, “The reason I’m tellin’ you all this-“

“I know why you’re telling me this,” Ellie interrupted.

“Yeah,” Joel sighed, “I reckon you do.”

A few beats of silence rested between them, Y/n’s tears pooling in her eyes, Joel staring ahead at the ground and Ellie, with one foot back out in the light.

“So time heals all wounds, I guess,” the girl mused.

Joel, for all his initial denial, knew exactly what had caused him to be able to talk about his trauma so freely. Three months of raging against his instincts, fighting ever smile, laugh and loving gaze, had landed him right where he’d never wanted to end up. Except it was all he wanted, every single part of it.

He looked to Ellie first, “It wasn’t time that did it.”

When her understanding gaze crossed with Joel’s, he glanced over to Y/n, still stuck in place with her red cheeks and puffy eyes.

They hadn’t just saved his life, they had brought him back to life.

“Well, I’m glad that-“ Ellie eventually gathered the words, her voice on the verge of cracking, “That didn’t work out.”

Joel nodded, “Me too.”

Y/n finally took a step forward, before her feet practically flew her forward to Joel. She came to stand over his leg, drawing his face upwards until she had the whole view.

Joel’s wet eyes gazed up into hers, the freedom that came with the terrible truth granting him to strength to face her.

Y/n tilted Joel’s head so she could see his temple and the terribly tragic scar across it. With shaking fingers, she grazed the skin and it all suddenly became real. Joel had really almost gone through with it. She flashed back the pain in his eyes the day he’d abandoned her, the sorrow, the grief, the utter despair…

His hand trembling, Joel reached up to encircle Y/n’s wrist, trying to be with her as she processed it all. He was the source of so much of her pain, and all he wanted to do was give her a future built on hope. This was the last time he’d ever hurt her.

If Joel would have pulled the trigger, he would have changed the lives of everyone around him or that ever would be around him. Tess wouldn’t have had a partner, Tommy would have certainly died in an act of bravery, and Ellie and Y/n would have been dead before they ever left Boston.

But none of those thoughts crossed Y/n’s head. All she could think about was how utterly empty her life would have stayed if she never would have seen Joel again.

With a stifled sob, Y/n wrapped her arms around Joel’s head, pulling him into her chest and burying her face in his hair. Joel fisted the back of her shirt, feeling a stitch in the fabric pop from the force he was holding her with. Y/n ignored the ache in her ribs, she needed to feel Joel more than anything.

They stayed lost in each other until Y/n moved to press her lips to Joel’s temple, softly kissing the scar that had almost kept them apart. Joel felt ripped to pieces and entirely complete at the same time.

The last divide between them had been shattered.

“I love you,” Y/n whispered against the scar. Joel dug his face deeper into her chest, oxygen deprivation mattering not so long as he was swallowed by her body.

Y/n tried to pull herself together, it wasn’t until Jackson that she’d be able to let herself fall apart fully. She smoothed Joel’s wild hair back down as much as she could and dragged her palm under her eyes. Joel’s hands traced the sides of her hips on their way down from her back, paying extra mind to her ribs.

“We should probably get going,” Ellie announced, too overcome by both her own emotions and Joel and Y/n’s.

“Yeah,” Y/n and Joel both hummed a variation of as they dried the remnants of their tears. Before they took another step, Joel grabbrd Y/n’s hand again, locking her into his side.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?” Joel asked, his voice somewhat cheerful again as he looked to Ellie.

“What?” Ellie glanced up expectantly at him.

“Shitty puns.”

“Oh, Lord,” Y/n smiled.

“Oh ho-ho,” Ellie exclaimed, twisting her backpack to pull out the book.

Y/n gave a mock salute, “That’s it. This is where I leave you,” she began to let her steps drift away from Joel, “Give the Fireflies my regards.”

Joel smiled deeply, pulling her back into him. Ellie was already searching through her book for the perfect page.

“‘People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow,’” she recited, catching Joel’s disapproving stare after, “Too soon?”

He snapped out of his fake-out, grinning after, “No, it’s topical.”

Ellie laughed, “Oh, I love this one! ‘Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Why?’”

Deciding to egg on her less enthusiastic guardian, Ellie looked across their row, waiting for Y/n to reply.

“Why?” Y/n said, rolling her eyes in good humor.

“‘Cause they’re meteor,” Ellie delivered the punch line.

Joel grimaced, “Oh, that’s terrible.”

“If you’re gonna set me up,” Y/n complained, “At least pick a good one.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie exclaimed, “That was actually good.”

“That’s a zero outta ten,” Joel finished.

“All right, all right,” Ellie flipped to the second page, “‘What did the green grape say to the purple grape?’”

Y/n snorted, already guessing where the joke was going.

“‘Breathe, you idiot,’” Ellie answered.

Joel’s lips crept upwards, “That was a three out of ten.”

“Seven, minimum,” Ellie corrected.

“I’ll go as high as five,” Y/n countered.

“Yeah, five,” Joel agreed, swinging his and Y/n’s hands a little, “Five outta ten.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped in shock, “Five?”

The clink and the hiss from behind them turned them all around. Y/n and Joel spotted the flash bomb, their bodies reacting quickly and throwing themselves over Ellie.

The three of them were knocked to the ground in a smoky haze.

Five seconds or five minutes, no one could tell. Y/n couldn’t clearly see more than a few inches in front of her, spotting Joel’s watch and Ellie’s grey sleeve.

“Joel,” she could hear Ellie calling out past the ringing in her ears, “Y/n.”

“El,” Y/n called back, attempting to move with the new pain in her abdomen, “Joel.”

“Y/n,” Joel breathed.

Thudding footsteps broke through the next layer of hearing loss, Y/n blinked a couple times to see Ellie’s body being picked up.

“Joel,” she cried, “Y/n!”

“Ellie!” Joel yelled, reaching to grab Y/n’s hand as they struggled to pick themselves up.

“Ellie!”

It was the last thing any of them heard before everything went dark.

————

TYL Taglist: @bachiracore @stolenxkissess @kayleezra @the-wistful-reader @allthesesonsofbitches @goth-detectives365 @trippovert @rh1nestonecowg1rl @emiliaserpe @khaleesihavilliard @frietiemeloen @gracie7209 @dorck26 @thegirlnextdoorssister @alanis-altair @mariwinns16 @whosscruffylooking @endofthexline @alexiaricciardo @eonnyx @pedrosmexicangf @scarlettequinn @ao-sleepy @toinfinityandbeyonce2 @deanlovescassie @turmoil-ash @sorrowjunky @kpopslur @xxlilyxx90 @midgetpottermills @presidential-facts @scoopsnini @tubble-wubble @jamesdeerest @burninggracesandbridges @star-wars-lover @lucyhotchner @cococola-cocaine @witheringhqarts @fall-writes @alwaysdjarin @xxmoonn @emilia-the-artist @wand-erer5 @boneyarrd @lizard-zombie @themultifandomofmadness @cassidylea123 @paleepeaches @mxltifxnd0m @kettlekatie @ultimate-cinephile @gloryekaterina @caramelkatsukis-bitch @whovianayesha @memeorydotcom @deadunicorn159 @get0ut0fmyr00m @siriuslymooned @emmyeed @superbreadsoul @hellu-people1 @ourautumn86 @inas-thing @noraapple05 @givemylovetoall @luvwanda (tags cont. in comments)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers #twenty years later

[depraved-gf]

PART 1 OF 3.5 [PREMATURELY ENDED]

**There will be no more updates unfortunately. I've been ghosted. :(

MASSIVE TW'S: CNC, STALKING, RAPE FANTASY, ETC ETC. Basically if you are triggered by intense, dark kinks or sex, please do not read. I do not censor words.

*tagging under #repressedh0e's adventures

Aight so, I can't tell anyone else this because they'd probably call the cops lmao, but I know I can tell y'all freaksss about what happened today. Essentially, I'm being VERY marinated in a cnc stalking scenario for the very first time... Finally! And according to him, it's going to be a very slow burn for anticipation.

--------------

So, I've been talking to this local guy for a lil bit that's very, very much into cnc just like I am (and y'all, he's a whole FOOT AND 2 INCHES taller than me, and has the biggest fucking cock I've ever seen. I'm not even lying - this man is going to rip my little, only-had-sex-with-one-person body to SHREDS). Once we both got a good vibe, we moved towards more kinky territory, talking about safe words, limits, and scenarios for when we eventually meet. He then asked me to send a single photo outside of my bedroom window, and promised he'd find me.

Intrigued, I sent it. I can see my city from my window. Beautiful, really.

But within 15 minutes, he sent me a live snap of my apartment building with the caption: Found you, princess. After losing my shit (in a good way), I confirmed it was my building, and he said he actually lives really close by.

I suspect you're in a corner apartment, 2nd or 3rd story, I'm not sure yet but I'll figure it out. I say nothing. I'm not giving any hints. I'm impressed by his perception at this point. But I am, in fact, on a corner on the 2nd story. How will you figure that out? I ask in innocent curiosity. All I get back is a 🤫 emoji.

And then, maybe 3 hours later, I get a random snap - a chat that simply says, I have a question, Isa. I told him to shoot, go ahead and ask!, and again, he simply asks:

Do you have a fan in your window?

I freak the fuck out (again, in a good way), and confirm that, um, yes... I enjoy the cold, and why do you ask?

About a second goes by, and he sends a live snap of MY 2ND STORY BEDROOM WINDOW with the caption, You can't see me, but I can see you.

How the FUCK this man was able to tell it was my window in a fully wrapped around 6 story apartment building, just by the angle of my one photo, was astounding. I was truly perplexed.

I then get another ding before I can truly wrap my brain around what was happening.

Turn your light off.

I do as I'm told.

I then receive a live video of my bedroom window, with the light shutting off.

I freak out a third time (y'all already know I'm soaking by now), but I realize I couldn't see him. There were 4 cars a little ways down the street, parked in the night. Any of them could've been him. None of them could've been him. I can't see you.. Is all I managed to type out through trembling fingers. It was so intense, and I was so turned on, I barely knew what I was saying at this point.

His response: Good. Let's keep it that way... For now.

Not long after as I'm continuing to try to look into any and every vehicle, I receive a live video. It's him stroking his massive cock in his car with the caption, You know what I want.

Y'all. When I say I about came undone, I MEAN IT. My heart is pounding, my pussy and inner thighs are both absolutely drenched. The moment is so thick with sexual tension, and I'm so entranced in it, I could've sworn I saw god at that point lmao.

But I continue looking out the window, my light still off so I can see into the night. But nothing. All is still. And finally, the car in the very front down the street slowly drives away.

About 5 minutes go by, and it feels like a lifetime, before I receive a chat: You're so close to me. I'll be watching. Waiting. Checking on you every time I go out. Stroking my cock outside your apartment until the day I can finally tear those holes apart.

--------------

Y'all, I... have been dreaming of living out a stalking scenario since I started becoming interested in sex as a teenager. I begged my ex, and while they were into cnc, it was never like this.

Never in my life did I ever imagine these scenarios to be so intense in real life. It's so damn different when it's really happening. Intense, I use that word a lot but there's legitimately no other way to explain it. Exhilarating, even. Psychologically it fucks with you, because you truly never know when they're looking at you. He could be outside right now as I'm typing this, stroking that huge cock, thinking about raping my holes, and I genuinely wouldn't know it. And it turns me on so, so much.

I absolutely cannot wait to see what else happens. 🫣

***DISCLAIMER: yes, I'm being safe!! I've told my roommate and another good friend all about him/the entire situation and the man was of course good with that as well. I'm very willing in this situation, and incredibly aware of any red flags that could arise, pls don't worry<3***

#repressedh0e's adventures #cnc cw #cnc kidnapping #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #rough cnc #cnc stalking #stalker #stalking fantasy #tw stalking #stalk me #cnc somno #rapedoll #rapekink #rapetoy #rough kink #r@pe k!nk #r@pe me #r@pe tw #r4p3 kink #r@petoy #r@pe kink #r@pe fantasy #rap3 fantasy #rap3 me #rap3doll #rap3toy #free use cnc #free use toy #free use kink

[doobnnoob-tf2]

What are the mercs' taste in vehicles?

Scout: sports cars, but he'd never actually drive it. he talks about how he wants to own those kinds of cars just to show off, and when anyone asks him what he'd drive he gets stumped. he hasn't thought that far ahead and will avoid the question

Soldier: tanks, if he's being unrealistic. but if he's made to be realistic about his answer, then Jeeps. not because he enjoys offroading (that isn't him saying he "has a shortcut" and then jerking the truck off into a nearby field), but because they're the most well known of army vehicles. and his father owned one

Pyro: Volkswagen Beetles specifically, especially the old-timey ones. they're cute, that's it

Demoman: he loves antique cars, they're his guilty pleasure. he loves going to old car shows and checking them all out. things like old buggies from the early 1900s, to anything that's just considered outdated in terms of what's popular, those are the kinds of vehicles he likes

Heavy: he isn't picky, not in the slightest. as long as he can fit inside of it and it works, then that's good enough for him. that essentially limits him only to big trucks rather than cars, but that's fine

Engineer: pick-up trucks. he has no other preference beyond that, he just wants something with a truck bed that he can load things into for transports. he doesn't care about getting whatever's new on the market, as long as it still runs then that's good enough for him

Medic: he stole a wedding catering van, he really doesn't care or have a preference. as long as they're keys in it and it can make for a good getaway, that's good enough for him. he's technically not legally allowed to drive anyway

Sniper: any sort of big, beefy truck that does off-roading. he hates small cars because he needs the leg room, and will only tolerate being inside one if he absolutely has to. he can never justify spending a lot of money on luxury purchases because he's always known the simple life, but that won't stop him from drooling over the truck in the lot he just spotted that he can see himself driving deep in the woods in

Spy: sports cars. ones that go really, really fast. he enjoys flying down the road like he's trying to escape the scene of a crime (and sometimes he might be!) and he prefers doing it in style. the more expensive and the more "fuck you I have money" vibes it gives off, the better

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sharing one braincell

[mylarena]

absolutely fucking ruined by the concept of soap thinking that ghost shouldve left him behind in las almas. him not understanding why ghost waited for him. him being confused the entire time, but not questioning it because it wasnt the time for it. he was more of a liability than a help, considering his bullet wound.

why did ghost lead him through the city when he couldve just gotten out by himself with a lot less risk of getting caught? he supposes the "we're a team" could be an answer, that ghost felt obligated to keep him alive, but with the amount of danger ghost had been in? he logically shouldve cut his losses and gotten the hell out of dodge. a sergeant isnt worth as much as a lieutenant - soap isnt worth as much as ghost.

it doesnt make sense to him. but he never asks- never feels like its the right time, despite them spending so much of it together.

and isnt that fucking baffling as well? ghost hangs out with him. he seems like hes with him more often than not. hes always ghosting - haha - him, always watching him from the corner when the team goes out for drinks, always on comms during missions, always checking his injuries after he gets out of medical.

soap teases him for getting soft with him sometimes, ("so you do like me?" "i like you alive."), but he never makes fun of him. if it were ghost who was injured so often, he thinks he would be the same way. but ghost isnt- hes too well trained and careful to be in and out of medical as much as soap is. reasonably so, considering his rank. hes important to the team, one of the essential cogs to keep the group functioning.

its during a mission that soap finally breaks and asks.

it had been something fairly simple- clear intel, a solid plan, just something in-and-out. but the intel wasnt clear enough and the whole situation went to shit. they were ambushed, and soap was caught on the other side of the battlefield, shot and immobilized. the place was crawling with hostiles, soap was barely staying hidden in some tiny office room that they hadnt checked.

when ghost asked for his status, urgent, he gave him a straight answer: he was incapacitated and wouldnt be able to make it to evac with the rest of the squad, and he was surrounded by enemies that would likely find him soon. he asked for ghosts own situation with evac, knowing that the longer they waited for him the more danger they put the entire squad in. ghost told him that the squad was leaving as they spoke, and so soap expected the line to go silent soon. but it didnt- ghost kept talking to him, keeping him awake. there was no noise of a vehicle in the background either, which confused him, but his mind wasnt really at its peak at the moment, so he didnt really pay attention. what he paid attention to was ghosts shitty dad jokes and the banter he prompted.

he lost track of time and sat in a sort of daze, having lost a lot of blood and still losing it. then ghost asked what building he was in. he mindlessly answered to the best of his ability and waded through his thoughts for a few moments before realizing the implications of the question. so he asked, voice slurred.

"wait, why d'y'need t' ken?"

"because im almost there, johnny."

and soap is even more confused.

"ye didn' go with th' rest o' th' team?"

" 'course not, johnny."

"b't... i'm..."

"what room are you in?"

"i- uh... one o' th' off'ces.... whdya mean, o'course not?"

"i wasn't going to leave you behind, johnny."

theres a short pause. soap can feel his eyes getting heavier.

"did you think i left?"

"...wel'... aye. ...sir."

"why would i-"

"mmmmsir... gettin' real sleepy."

"shit. stay awake, sergeant. keep your eyes open for me, im almost there."

"y's're?"

"absolutely certain, johnny. stay awake for me, yeah? ill be there in a few seconds."

"thou' y'left."

when the door to the office opens, he sluggishly moves for his gun, before be sees the comforting sight of ghosts mask. he drops his arm back down to his side

"lt."

ghost sounds breathless in his reply,

"johnny."

the man is by his side in an instant, quickly running his eyes over him before putting pressure on his bullet wound.

while he does makeshift medical treatment, he does his best to keep soap awake. keeps him talking. occasionally patting his cheek when his head starts to list sideways.

by the time hes done, soap is barely hanging on by a thread. he cant carry his own weight when ghost hefts him up, letting out an indiscernible mumble when he lifts him up and starts on his way out. he doesnt stay awake much longer than that- ghost is warm and hes cold, and the swaying of his gait is soothing. ghost asks him to stay awake- orders him to, borderline pleads him to- but its a losing battle. he passes out, trusting ghost to keep him safe.

later, when he wakes up in the medbay, he'll end up being asked why he didnt think ghost was coming back for him. but for now hes out like a damn light.

#myposting #soaptag #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #mydrabbles #myaus #its 6 am!!!! time for writing!!!! ive been writing this for an hour i think. roughly.

[vixensbrainrotts]

HIII love ur hcs and stories sm 😩😩

can i request a smoker and skater reader x mikey where she teaches mikey to skate?

AAAAA THANK YOU IN ADVANCE (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Hit the Curb, Baby! - Manjiro <Mikey> Sano

Content: Ask- based

Warnings: smoking, allusion of an accident (?), not proof read

Summary: Mikey’s always admired your skating skills, so come the day you finny agree to teach him, he’s over the moon.

Vixens two cents: I absolutely can! Thank you so much for asking, I loved writing this one! (and it was a lot more casual than what all else is in my drafts right now.) I’m glad to know you’re enjoying my content :D. Feel free to let me know if you think of anything else, or if you have any thoughts about this one! As always- REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! Now enjoy!!

“Watch your feet you dunce, you’re gonna kiss the concrete and crack your skull if you don’t.” You snark from where you’re sitting on the curb, a sharp exhale of smog billowed up in front of you, shrouding Mikey from your sight.

Mikey groaned in response, stepping off the board and throwing his head back into his neck like a toddler would. Snapping upright again he inspects the skateboard closely. How in the world can he swerve lane to lane on a two-wheel high-speed vehicle, but fails to stand straight on what is essentially a piece of wood with four wheels?

You chuckle as you got up, slipping your jacket off your shoulders and approaching him. “Before you do something dumb again, lemme show you.” Mikey looked at you curtly before obeying and stepping away, giving you some space. He inspected you closely as you took a drag from your cigarette and blew it away from him, keeping the cig tucked in your left hand as you approached.

“Look, It’s not that hard, you just have to keep your chest up and your feet parallel, shoulder width apart.” You step onto the board leisurely, rocking back and forth to prove a point.

“Come here.” You guide him to stand in front of you, looking down on him from atop the starter board. “Oh, wow I’m taller than you for once.” You mutter and smile slightly.

Mikey’s stomach tingles weirdly when you say that, and his eyes dart up to yours, trying to find a trace of anything akin to the way he felt. Wordlessly he obeyed and stepped in front of you.

“Good. Alright. Now match your feet to be the same distance apart as mine.” You spoke and took one last drag from the cig, flicking it into the nearby gutter with excellent precision.

Again, Mikey followed your orders, shuffling his feet to be about as far apart as yours were on the board. He looked down to check the distance, and then looked up at you again, waiting for your approval.

You gave him a satisfied nod and reached out both your hands. “Take ‘em.” His eyes widened a tiny bit, and he hoped you wouldn’t notice how clammy his hands were. Despite the worries he grabbed your hands and let you guide him.

“Replace your feet with where mine stood.” Your voice was lower due to proximity, and the way that you looked at him when he rose to a stand on the board made his stomach flip.

Looking down at you he once again momentarily realized just how close you two stood, and his mind started racing.

Did he put on deodorant earlier? What about cologne? Surely it’s worn off by now… did he even manage to brush his teeth after breakfast? Yeah, he did- but he had some snacks earlier so that’s down the gutter for sure.

He was snapped out of his daze by the loss of warm skin contact as you pulled your hands away from his, letting him stand on his own.

“Good.” You said as you stepped away, watching him balance his weight on his own. “Just stand there for now.” You said, and as you spoke Mikey started focusing more on what was happening around him. He looked down at his feet that stood sort of securely on the board, and let his gaze drift from his torn-apart sneakers to the street, the curb you were sitting on, the path you two walked down earlier, and finally the sigle lamp that lit up the lonely road you two were on.

„Rock your feet back and forth, shift your weight like you’re reeling up for a kick.“ You urged him a little, keenly waiting for him to move. He took your advice wordlessly, not daring to move anything you didnt tell him to move.

Carefully, he looked down at his feet again and pretended that he was about to kick some nerds face in, softly and slowly shifting back and forth on the board. You hummed in approval, and Mikey’s ears perked at the sound.

“There you go.” You said and stepped closer to him again. “Tighten your core and set your shoulders back, I’m gonna push you forward so don’t resist.” Mikey felt his skin tingle where you touched him at the waist, warm hands firmly grabbing his torso and stepping close to his body.

“Ready?” You asked and he gave a determined nod. “Let’s go.” Despite the warnings you gave him, Mikey still flailed little when you started pushing him, the smooth concrete beneath him sounding in the signature rumble underneath the wheels.

You laughed a little when he caught his balance, assuring him that “I’ve got you.” Mikey breathed shortly and allowed himself to get used to the feeling, to remember how his feet were positioned, and more importantly how your hands felt on his waist.

“I’m letting go, just roll for now, we’ll get you used to standing first, yeah?” You say, a little louder due to the noise, and with one last push, you stay standing and sent him on his way.

Standing alone and tall on the board, Mikey felt like he was on top of the world. Confidently he stood and glided down the street a bit further before the acceleration slowed and he rolled to a stop.

“I did it!” He exclaimed, still standing half-frozen atop the skateboard, not daring to move in fear of falling. He heard you approach him from behind and cautiously turned his head to look at you. You carried a soft, sweet expression as you looked at him with a proud smile. “You did! How was that?”

“Great! Again!” His smile was cherry and wide across his face, and he was sure he looked like an idiot right now but he really didn’t care. Not when he had you here, teaching him one of your passions.

“Again?” You asked and reached for your back pocket, producing a box of cigarettes out of nowhere, flicking the lid up and taking one out, letting it dangle from between your lips. “Yes, again!” Mikey replied, still not having moved from his position.

“Alright Tony Hawk, let’s get you back to starting position then.” You smiled as you offered him a hand, the other reaching in your jacket that you had shrugged on again and taking out a lighter.

Mikey took your hand graciously and got off, only sort of stumbling once his feet met solid ground again. He picked up your skateboard and tucked it under his arm, straightening and looking to you again.

The little flame produced from your lighter flickered across your pretty features, casting a shadow under your eyebrows and across your nose. You inhaled, lighting the tabac with a crackling noise, and then looked at him. Your eyes met, and Mikey felt his breath hitch, his hand tightening a tad around yours.

You smiled at him wordlessly and let the flame die, tucking both the box and the lighter away again, and turning to walk back to your curb. Mikey watched you, heart stuck beating out of his throat until he felt a tug at his hand, making him fall forward and into step with your pace.

You hadn’t let go. So, hand in hand the two of you returned to your curb, and you continued to puff and laugh and push, and he continued to wobble and stand and glide and walk back giddily joining your hands together.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #x reader #tr content #tokyo manji revengers #tr headcanons #tokyo rev #sano mikey manjiro #mikey sano #mikey x reader #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x you #mikey x y/n #sano majiro x reader #manjiro x y/n #tokyo revengers sano manjiro #tokyo manji gang #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #tokrev manjiro #manjiro x you

[visit-new-york]

Is there a fee to walk or drive across the Brooklyn Bridge?

The iconic Brooklyn Bridge stands as a testament to engineering prowess and connects the boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn. Its majestic towers and web of cables make it a must-visit landmark for tourists and locals alike. However, a common question arises among those planning to traverse this architectural marvel: Is there a fee to walk or drive across the Brooklyn Bridge? In this article, we'll explore the details surrounding access fees, if any, and shed light on the experience of crossing this historic structure.

Walking Across the Brooklyn Bridge:

One of the most popular activities for both tourists and New Yorkers is walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. The good news for pedestrians is that there is no fee to walk across the bridge. The pedestrian walkway is suspended above the traffic lanes, providing stunning views of the Manhattan skyline, the East River, and the Statue of Liberty. Walking across the bridge is not only a fantastic way to enjoy the scenery but also a great form of exercise.

Biking Across the Brooklyn Bridge:

Similarly, biking across the Brooklyn Bridge is a popular choice for cyclists. The bridge features a designated bike lane, allowing riders to enjoy the journey between Manhattan and Brooklyn with ease. Much like walking, there is no fee for cyclists to cross the bridge. Biking provides a unique perspective and a quicker mode of transportation, making it a favorite option for commuters.

Driving Across the Brooklyn Bridge:

Unlike walking and biking, driving across the Brooklyn Bridge does not come without a cost. There is no toll for vehicles heading from Brooklyn to Manhattan. However, vehicles traveling from Manhattan to Brooklyn are subject to a toll. It's essential to note that toll policies can change, so it's advisable to check with the relevant authorities or online resources for the most up-to-date information.

Tips for a Memorable Brooklyn Bridge Experience:

Timing Matters: Consider walking or biking during less crowded times to fully enjoy the experience without the hustle and bustle of heavy pedestrian traffic.

Photography Opportunities: The Brooklyn Bridge offers fantastic photo opportunities. Capture the breathtaking views, the intricate architecture, and the cityscape from different vantage points.

Weather Awareness: Be mindful of the weather, as the experience can vary significantly based on conditions. A sunny day might provide clear views, while a foggy or rainy day can add a touch of mystery to your journey.

Conclusion:

In summary, there is no fee to walk or bike across the Brooklyn Bridge, making it a cost-effective and enjoyable activity for residents and visitors alike. However, drivers heading from Manhattan to Brooklyn should be aware of toll charges. Whether you're interested in a leisurely stroll, an invigorating bike ride, or a scenic drive, the Brooklyn Bridge offers an iconic and memorable experience for all.

#New York City #new york #newyork #New-York #nyc #NY #urban #city #USA #United States #buildings #travel #journey #outdoors #street #architecture #bridge #Brooklyn Bridge

[usafphantom2]

Wind tunnel testing was so draining using so much electricity that it would deplete the electricity for an entire town .

This one-twelfth-scale Blackbird wind tunnel test article sits proudly on display at Blackbird Airpark in Palmdale, California. It was used for initial wind tunnel testing after the CIA awarded the A-12 contract to Lockheed on September 14, 1959. I would love to “borrow” this beautiful model and hang it in my home.

The model is constructed of a rugged, heavy stainless steel. To save money, the model was developed with three interchangeable forebody sections, representing the A-12, SR-71, and YF-17. The aft body of all the Blackbird aircraft are essentially the same. All you had to do was replace the nose and you would have a different air frame.

Reading in Ben Rich‘s book, the “Skunk Works” Rich logged hundreds of ($10,000 to $15,000 an hour) wind testing the Blackbird . Wind tunnel tests help inventors and manufacturers better understand the nature of the flow of air over and around a vehicle or object, as well as the effects it causes on that object, especially aerodynamic forces. Ben would travel north to Moffett Field and test at NASA Ames Research Center” We found that running Mach 3 pressures for several hours drains so much of the electricity that was needed by local industry that we were forced to test only late at night, working until dawn.’’ In other words, the local businesses and homes would not having enough electricity. It was that draining. Ben Rich, and his group would then travel back down to the Skunk Works in Southern California. Ben literally did not have time to sleep! His hard work paid off Ben was the designer of the engine's inlets that would move backwards up to three feet to position it’s shockwave to minimize drag. Ben later designed the F117. Check out this one minute video.

TAP ARROW BUTTON TO VIEW 👇

m.youtube.com/watch?si=3sOS7…

Written by Linda Sheffield

Source, the “Skunk Works”

Habu, by Curt Mason

@Habubrats71 via Twitter

#Youtube

[starwrighter]

I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)

(Chapter thirteen)

Gone with one issue on to the next, post haste! It was like this year was pelting him with problem after problem. Of course, a quantum destination would be the next space on his bingo card of disasters! Why wouldn’t it be?! If there’s one thing the universe would never give him it was a break. That nap was a curse! He made up for too much of the sleep he’d lost back home. Now, there was karma to pay for those extra few hours of sleep. 

Granted, he felt better than yesterday, but was it worth the quantum detonation? Temptation says yes but logical thinking says no. Logical thinking also said nothing he could’ve done would’ve prevented the damage to the drive core. It would have already started to degrade from seawater pouring in before he even got there. It was nice to know this one thing wasn’t his fault, but it wouldn’t soothe the anxiety of knowing the Aurora was going to explode.

The damage a drive core from a ship the Aurora’s size could cause would be catastrophic. The radiation alone was a planet-ending event. Could he prevent this with his limited access to his powers? There were no blueprints for a radiation suit in his PDA and he doubts he could make one himself. Building what was essentially a hazmat divesuit strong enough to protect him from the lethal doses of radiation the aurora was dishing out wasn’t the same as building a table. Did he still have any kind of immunity to radiation? 

Regardless, he’s a Fenton! He got irradiated for breakfast! 

Swimming back to his base, Danny began pilfering through his storage. If he’s even going to try attempting to stop a quantum detonation, a seamoth would be helpful. Not only did it sound cool as hell, it’d make traversing through the waters a piece of cake! Only… The blueprints wasn’t there and data corruption was to blame. Cursing, Danny collapsed to the floor, scrolling desperately through all the blueprints over and over again. He’d regained the blueprint for the mobile vehicle bay, but there was no amount of tampering that’d give him the Seamoth. The mobile vehicle bay was useless without a vehicle! 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Danny decided this was the perfect time to check the radio. Any information concerning the rendevuos would be a life saver!

Swimming back to his pod, a cloud of rot spilled into the ocean. The foul odor of the remaining goo assaulted his nostrils. Nausea bubbled in his stomach, bile crawling up his throat. He crawled back into the pod. They say the smell of human decomposition was one the human body was hardwired to recognize and Danny could now say with confidence that rotting halfa was the same. Even if he’d been completely unaware of the lifepod’s contents the smell alone sent a shiver down his spine. It was easier to dissociate the pile of goo on the floor before it’d decomposed to this extent. Dried blood stained the floor any green that’d been there was gone without a trace.

This…This would be a gruesome site for whoever was going to collect the life pods after this was over. It’s a difficult scene for him to see for ancient's sake! It was funny to think that despite the horrid smell and blood, he’d rather have found something like this in Lifepod 3. Bodies, or at least more than a PDA entry to prove someone was here! He’d perfer finding blood and rot than have the dead be forgotten so easily. They’d died within the meager three hours Danny had been unconscious, and been torn into by local wildlife until nothing remained before anyone could respond to their distress signal.

Tearing his eyes away from the puddle, Danny sucked in a deep breath, regretting it instantly as putrid air filled his lungs. His PDA screamed, biohazard warnings taking over the screen, begging him to leave. With a shake of his head, Danny covered his nose with his hand toddling towards the radio. The device was flashing and Danny couldn’t hit a play button harder than he had today. 

“Playing pre-recorded distress call…” Waiting on his tippy toes Danny stared at the device with hope-filled eyes as a human voice sounded through the pod.

“This is Ozzy from the cafeteria. What the hell guys?! They didn’t warn us this might happen!” Danny’s heart sank as the message continued.

“Our pod was almost crushed by the seamoth bay on the way down, now we’re hanging on the edge of a cave system and this grim-looking snake thing’s trying to eat through the hull! Come get us already!” 

Saying that didn’t sound good would’ve been an understatement. How many hours had it been since this message was sent? A grim-looking snake thing? He has someone like that outside. Chances were they weren’t talking about the same snake thing.

 Dami has a snake-like body, but he resembles more of a dragon or a sea serpent…Dami hadn’t even made an attempt to hurt Danny or his little base. Sure, he scratched the glass but Danny had a feeling those claws were capable of much worse. Trust was a strong word to use when talking about a giant sea monster but Danny was confident Dami wouldn’t freak out and try to kill him for no reason.

All he’d done since seeing him was give reason after reason to kill him! Honestly, Dami just seems confused by his existence, but to be fair Danny is too. Logically he should be permanently dead, erased from every plane of existence but something gave him a third chance at life. Now he’s everyone’s problem!

Updating the signal to his PDA Danny crawled back out the lifepod, a signal to follow and materials to gather.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire

#Idk how Danny's going to fit in the seamoth #subnautica au #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp

[diytransport]

What To Expect When Using A Car Transport Service In Atlanta: A Comprehensive Review

Are you planning a move or need to transport your vehicle to Atlanta? A car transport service can save you time, money, and hassle. In this comprehensive review, we will explore the benefits of using a car transport service, factors to consider when choosing one, a step-by-step guide on using the service effectively, its cost in Atlanta, and whether it's worth it. So buckle up as we dive into the world of car transport services in Atlanta!

Benefits Of Using A Car Transport Service

When it comes to using a Car Transport Service Atlanta, convenience is vital. Instead of driving your vehicle long distances, you can have it picked up and delivered to your desired location. This saves you time and effort while ensuring your car arrives safely.

Moreover, using a car transport service can be more cost-effective than driving the vehicle yourself, especially when considering factors like fuel costs, wear and tear on the car, and potential overnight stays. It's a hassle-free way to move your vehicle without adding extra mileage or risking road incidents.

Additionally, a reputable car transport service provides peace of mind, knowing that professionals are handling your transportation process. They are experienced in moving vehicles securely and efficiently, giving you confidence that your prized possession is in good hands throughout the journey.

Factors To Consider When Choosing A Car Transport Service

Several factors should be considered when selecting a car transport service in Atlanta to ensure a smooth and reliable experience. First and foremost, consider the company's reputation. Look for reviews from previous customers to gauge their satisfaction and reliability.

Check if the car transport service is licensed and insured. This will give you peace of mind, knowing that your vehicle is protected in case of unforeseen circumstances during transit.

Another critical factor to consider is the cost of the service. While finding a competitive price is essential, be wary of unusually low quotes as they may indicate subpar services or hidden fees.

Additionally, please inquire about the types of vehicles they can accommodate and their delivery timeframe. Ensure their schedule aligns with your needs to avoid delays or inconveniences during transportation.

Communication is critical when choosing a car transport service. Opt for a company that provides clear communication channels and keeps you informed throughout the process for a stress-free experience.

Step-By-Step Guide On How To Use A Car Transport Service

Using a car transport service in Atlanta can be straightforward and convenient—first, research to find a reputable company that meets your needs. Look for reviews and recommendations from other customers.

Next, contact the car transport service provider for a quote and schedule your vehicle's pick-up date. Provide accurate information about your car's make, model, and condition.

Prepare your car for transportation by removing personal belongings and ensuring it is clean for inspection. When the driver arrives for pick-up, inspect your vehicle together before signing any paperwork.

During transit, stay in touch with the transport company for updates on your car's location and estimated arrival time. Upon delivery, inspect your vehicle again to ensure no damages during transportation.

By following these steps carefully, you can have a smooth experience using a car transport service in Atlanta.

Cost of Using a Car Transport Service in Atlanta

When considering the cost of using a car transport service in Atlanta, it is essential to weigh convenience against price. The rates for transporting your vehicle can vary based on factors like distance, type of vehicle, and any additional services you may require.

Some companies offer competitive pricing packages that cater to different budgets and needs. It's wise to request quotes from multiple providers to compare prices and services.

While cost is an important factor, quality should not be compromised. Look for reputable companies with positive reviews and a track record of delivering vehicles safely and on time.

Factors such as insurance coverage, delivery timelines, and customer support also affect the overall value of the service. Be sure to clarify all details before deciding to ensure a smooth and stress-free experience.

Conclusion: Is Using A Car Transport Service In Atlanta Worth It?

Using a car transport service in Atlanta can be a convenient and stress-free way to move your vehicle from one place to another. It can also save you time and mileage on your car, along with the assurance of professional handling, so it can definitely be worth considering.

When choosing a car transport service, consider factors such as reputation, insurance coverage, delivery options, and cost. By following a step-by-step guide on how to use a car transport service effectively, you can ensure a smooth experience.

While the cost of using a car transport service in Atlanta may vary depending on distance and vehicle type, it is important to weigh this against the convenience and peace of mind offered.

In conclusion, Using a reputable car transport service in Atlanta can provide reliable transportation for your vehicle while offering convenience and protection during the process. It's worth exploring this option if you're looking for an efficient way to move your car without adding extra wear and tear or stress.

#Car Transport Service Atlanta

[fluffykiddosstuff]

What is love? (nines X gn Reader)

BABY DON'T HURT ME NO MORE

Hum hum sorry guys, btw happy holidays even if I'm reaaaally late ! It was  sooo nice! There was even snow where I live!

------

You and nines were friends since last month, he came as gavin's partner two months before that, being gavin's best friend, you helped both of them to get along, you took a liking to the android, wondering why he wasn't deviant when every other android did. Connor told you it's because his software is far more advanced than the others androids, for exemple, Amanda wasn't a part of his system unlike connor had, when connor got him out of cyberlife, she instantly got erased by the rk900 software, just like a virus.

It was late in the dpd, everyone was gone, except you, nines, Gavin, hank and connor, you were all teamed on the same case and it was getting frustrating at this point.

"ugh we are not making any progress! At this rate my head will blow up.." Gavin said massaging his temples

"yeah I agree, I'm taking a break, hey, wanna go to the bar to forget this?" hank looked at you and gavin

"heck yes I am old man" Gavin got up and followed the lieutenant when you on the other hand declined politely, still wanting to re-read the reports of your case, connor chased after them, making sure they weren't intoxicated too much. Well that leaved only you and nines in front of the laptop, you readed again everything from the report out loud so nines could hear you.

"a couple was found nearby Detroit playground, an android and a human, both were shot in the chest where the heart is stated, either the killer is a surgeon due to this kind of presision, or it's an android who scanned them"

You massaged your temples just like Gavin did earlier, it was infuriating, no clues, no witnesses, you were to the  point 0 on this case, nines got up without you noticing and got you a cup of your favorite drink. You muttered a "thank you" before drinking it and looking at the screen again.

"detective, if you aren't feeling well you can go home and rest, I can work alone on this, plus, a good rest is essential when you want to achieve something"

You nodded and started to get up and gather your belongings when he stopped you in your track.

"wait I actually have a question before you go detective"

"yes what is it?"

No one spoke for like 5 minutes, he seemed to think before he was gonna ask what he wanted.

"don't you find it weird?"

"what?"

"that the couple was a human and an android?"

You thought a little about it, yeah it was a bit odd because androids didn't got their rights long time ago and still are scared or angry over humans for their loss, same for the other side, but they are exceptions after all.

"well laws are a bit weird recently but nothing state they couldn't be together"

Nines led spinned red and yellow, you looked at him when it hit you.

"you think they got killed because they loved each other?"

"that's a possibility, since the revolution, many people are still hostile on both side"

"yeah.. We should check the road cameras, maybe we could track a vehicle going in this area at the presumed death hour "

"that was what I was thinking, good conclusion detective"

You smiled and rushed a bit to him, he was still on the chair from earlier, you then kissed him on the forehead.

"you are a genius nines! We finally have a lead! I'm gonna send a message to hank and Gavin, I'm gonna go home now, see ya!"

Some blue tinted the android cheeks, he looked at you leaving the pretinct and touched his forehead where you kissed him, a warning going in front of his eyes.

Software instability ⬆️

He texted connor with his system and waited for his response.

"connor what is love?"

#detroit become human #x reader #fluff #dbh #dbh gavin #dbh gavin reed #dbh rk900 #Rk900 #gender neutral reader #neutral reader #gn!reader #gn reader #dbh hank #dbh hank anderson #hank anderson #Connor #Rk800 #nines dbh #nines #dbh nines #dbh nines x reader #nines x reader #Nines X gn reader

[xotication]

☆,

biker! ken hcs! (& car! guy ken cuz why not??)

biker ken

he rides a ninja 400.

before meeting you, he was for sure reckless. but after the two of you got involved with each other, he promised himself he’d be a lil more careful for you

everyone knows riding a motorcycle is dangerous as fuck, so he never wanted to have you worried

sometimes there’s night where he may go a lil too fast & ends up getting chased by police..

he texts you & tells you to have the garage open so he can just come in & have you close it immediately.. trust, you end up reprimanding him

he always takes you on rides when the sun is setting. idc, he tells you it reminds him of you

does wheelies just to scare you

one day you ask him to teach you how to ride & he says “last i checked, you’re already good at that”

you were left confused until it hit you.. “that is NOT what i meant!”

whenever he gets hit on, he mentions you with so much quickness

if a girl does happen to ask for his number, he gives them yours 😭😭😭 they don’t even know until they text you

if he ever gets injured, the first person he goes to is you, even if he feels that you can’t help. you’re his sense of comfort

like boy could lose a whole leg nd he’d prob call you first to let you know LMAO

his friends hate you bc they say you made him “soft” but you disagree completely!!!

you fear for your life half the time you're his backpack

he speeds through the smallest little cracks between vehicles on the freeway

he uses anything as a ramp & you hate it

when he's making sharp turns he touches the fucken ground with his hand "look how close we are!"

whenever you're in your car & he's on his bike, he always gaps you nd you think it's so mean. yet, he laughs every time

sometimes when he picks you up, he makes sure to make the most noise ever. that's mainly how you can tell he's arrived

i feel like his wardrobe is all black. the only color he has are the clothes you buy for him bc you tease him for being too emo

you also buy him a pikachu skin for his helmet as a joke, but he ends up loving it

he plays deftones on his rides, that or cigs after sex idc.. maybe even sign crushes motorist.. i feel like he's always in his feelings LMAO

whenever you guys are stopped next to a bus or a big semi truck, he always touches it

records pop vids & sends them to you..

car guy ken!

i honestly don't know what kind of car ken would drive..

it's between a supra mk4, nissan 350/370z, or maybe a 2013 bmw 3 :>

i mainly see him in a supra ngl

but whatever car ken drives, he puts WORK into.

you love being around whenever he's working on his cars tho, he'll be all dirty with oils nd shit but its so rawr

ken gets excited over new car parts too

one time you bought him a carbon fiber front bumper and he damn near cried over it

he put starry lights on the roof of the inside of his car to give you something pretty to look at

he lets you keep your little essentials in his glove department or his arm rest

you leave a scrunchie around his gear shift & glosses in his cup holder, plus lil makeup wipes in the lil side compartment on the door

i fear ken has road rage.. he hates slow drivers and flips people off so fucken often

not only that but this man never goes the speed limit???

his car is all blacked out.. so flying down dark highways with his headlights off is his fav thing to do

he hates when you opt out for driving your car.. especially when there's other cars being loud nd making noise. he feels left out, like a puppy taken from its owner

"baby, i wanna make noise too.." with the biggest pout you've ever seen.

one day he suggests that you guys save up for miatas so that your cars can make cute faces at each other & date. it was the sweetest idea ever

car guy ken handles all your car troubles. he's like your personal mechanic

he does donuts in empty parking lots

he did a burn out in your exes drive way & you didn't find out until said ex texted you fucken PISSED

"ken what the fuck??" "what.." "you know what!" "nuh uh."

takes you to car meets so he can teach you more about different cars & the mods you can add to them

can tell a car from the sound the engine is making..

lets you drive his car once & it was the scariest thing he'd ever done

"SLOW DOWN PLEASE"

"i'm going 70!??!"

"this is my baby, i don't want you to crash..."

whenever a car passes him, he takes it as a challenge & gaps them.

#anime #fanfic #manga #kaneki x reader #kaneki ken #headcannons #tokyo ghoul #fluff #tokyo ghoul re #kaneki #kaneki x you #xoti writes

[torchship-rpg]

Dev Diary 7 - Framework Systems

In Dev Diary 5, we talked about the core dice mechanic of the game; how tools create dice pools which are resolved with your character’s skills. In this Dev Diary, we’ll be talking about some of the universal mechanics which frame play around those dice checks.

Unity

Most of the resources tracked in Torchship are material ones; reaction mass, budgets, supplies, radiation exposure and stress levels. Unity is the one central exception which binds the game together.

Unity is a resource which abstracts the benefits of the trust, goodwill, and sense of community the crew of the rocket have with one another. It’s the personal capacities made available by harmonious operation, how the work put in by everyone is reflected and amplified in its representatives. In short, it’s the Power of Friendship, which as we all know is the most powerful of the five fundamental forces.

Unity is gained through the Impulses and Relationships of the player characters on an individual basis, but is placed into a group pool that anyone can use when they need it. Unity can be used for two things; the first is that you can buy rerolls on any of your Checks with it, giving you another chance to get the successes you need. The second thing you can use Unity for is to remove Stress, one of the four types of Harm that players can take and a common penalty stemming from Checks and Traits.

Having a good pool of Unity is how you offset the penalties that’ll stack up as the situation gets more out of control.

Unity is also created by introducing new members of the Crew. Your rocket leaves spacedock with a half-dozen crew characters defined; if you have six PCs, all your NPCs are just a number. That number is essentially a reserve of guest stars. If you need some Unity for a challenge up ahead, or you need an expert for a task none of the players have Certs in, you can bring in an NPC guest star to generate some Unity, defining who they are, what they’re good at, and playing a few scenes with them. After that point, they go into your roster to be brought back for situation rolls when needed.

In this way, the number of people who are not yet defined on your rocket becomes a quantum foam of potential skills, expertise, and relevant hobbies you can tap as needed. This also means that rotating members of your crew off the rocket when you resupply can be incentivised; if your PCs have picked up the skills you once needed them for, they can leave the rocket and maybe come back later as the captain of a vehicle in distress or something!

Investigation Checklists

As you go through your adventure, the GM can hand you Investigation cards as you come across things that are worth looking into. Investigation cards provide a Thing To Do when you aren’t sure what to do next; finding answers to the questions on the cards is always a good idea. 

There’s six types of Investigation Checklists: Anomaly, Site, Technology, Society, Individual, and Incident, each with four predefined questions and one blank spot that either the GM or the players (depending) can fill in with a very specific question. Finding the answers to these questions is how you do Science.

This ties rather directly into one of the framework rules regulating the conversation between players and GMs; whenever the players ask an in-universe question, the GM must always either give the answer, or tell the players what they need to do to find the answer. The Checklist basically acts as a set of pre-defined questions to ask the GM with additional mechanical incentives.

As you fill out the Checklist, it starts to give you bonuses related to the subject of the investigation. 3 Answers give you ongoing Advantage to all Checks involving it, while 5 Answers additionally gives a +1 to all your Checks involving it. When you approach a problem you’ve fully mapped out, you have a much easier time; you essentially get home turf advantage anywhere you’ve done enough science at.

Finally, knowledge is power, and that means that there’s bureaucrats who really like to learn about stuff. Each and every tick you make on a checklist is rolled as a d6 in a big pool at the end of the episode for a chance to generate Credits, a metacurrency we’ll talk about at the end of this update. You’re never quite sure what information will be useful, or for what, but science isn’t something Star Patrol is doing just for its own sake; anything you learn might end up being the key part for a technology, a treaty, or a military strategy.

It also means that investigation is never, entirely, innocuous. You might be studying the inside of a black hole for the pursuit of pure truth and scientific curiosity, but somebody back home might look at it and figure out a really funny trick to pull involving an artificial singularity and somebody else’s war rockets.

Relationships

This one is pretty simple. Every PC has a relationship to another PC, and we represent that with four attitudes you can have toward another person. Are they just a comrade, are they your best friend, are they a rival, or do you have a crush on them?

Every one of these affects the way you work alongside them. When you help your Bestie, you get an extra reroll, like there was a mini pool of Unity between you. You can generate Unity by one-upping your rival, so it actually benefits the whole team to have healthy competition, provided it doesn’t get out of hand.

And, this being a game by me, having a Crush is very funny. When your Crush helps you with something, an extra Unity is generated for the team… and you promptly have to reroll one of your successes as you start saying the dumbest things you could possibly say and your hands start shaking. You know, as you do.

Relationships are not inherently linked; you might have a Crush on somebody who considers you their Rival, for instance. However, it’s generally best for the team if relationships are symmetrical, because the bonuses stack with one another; two rivals competing will always result in 2 Unity for the team and Besties working together means 2 rerolls.

Mutual Crushes are the best though, because you get a proper will-they-or-won’t-they system. Every episode that goes by where the two are crushing on one another but having acted on it, you mark a track. When they finally get over themselves and smooch, you get a massive amount of Unity for each mark on the track, which also incentivises them doing this dramatic thing at moments when you absolutely need like thirty bazillion Unity for the task ahead. 

At that point characters become Sweethearts, which removes the rerolled Success as you stop being such a mess.

Scarcity

I’ve saved the best for last. Or worst. Biggest, for certain.

Torchship does not have replicators. They do not exist. There is no technology that magically turns nothing into something. Instead, your spaceship has huge stores of fuel, food, spare parts, print-stock, ammunition, reaction mass, and everything else it might need for the journey. Every spare inch of space not dedicated to somebody sleeping or a machine working is packed with shelves, boxes, crates, and storage tanks. Over the course of your adventures, you’ll use all that stuff up.

There are three broad categories of scarce resources your spacecraft carries with it. Your Reaction Mass is the stuff you shoot out the back of the engines to go places. The back of your spacecraft is basically one or more olympic swimming pools worth of water, hydrogen, decane, or other fluid for your rocket to use up, which can also be used as emergency coolant and, in some cases, as fuel for a fusion reactor. Even though you have an FTL drive, you’ll still use it up circularising orbits, manoeuvring in combat, and fuelling shuttles, probes, and missiles.

Your Supplies are a generic amalgamation of all the random stuff you have to carry to keep the rocket running. Just about everything worth doing costs supplies; you need it to build tools and shuttles, you spend it on repairs and medicine, you shoot it out of your guns and missile tubes, you breathe it and eat it every single episode. 

Rather than representing Supply as a big number that goes down until you’re out, you simply mark a tally down every time you use Supply. When the tally reaches your vehicle’s Supply Threshold, you take a Shortage; the GM tells you something is running low, or something that was running low is now out. There’s dozens of potential shortages listed in the rules, allowing the GM to pick one that is most relevant to how you’ve been spending supplies. You can run out of ammunition, food, spare parts, filters for life support, and weird matter for the FTL drive or gravity coils, among others. As time goes on, you’ll run out more and more.

Finally, most Star Patrol craft carry Antimatter, as fuel for the reactor and engines. You use this up sparingly when you overcharge either, or if you pack it into a missile to make a powerful antimatter warhead. You always have to be careful doing so, because antimatter is expensive, and running out means the next episode is going to be about you not having any antimatter and not being able to do very much about it. 

You can, to a limited degree, replenish these resources in the field through salvage and barter with others, but most of the time you’ll need to do it through official channels, either calling for resupply or trading with people using, you know, money. This is where Credits come in.

Credits are an abstraction of the surplus wealth of the Star Union, as well as representing the universal, antimatter-backed trade currencies of Local Space. You can buy any of the scarce resources above using Credits, and you can also use it to unlock new capabilities and technologies for the Union or improve your vehicle. It is to your entire civilisation what XP is to characters.

Credits are not passively generated; like XP, you have to earn them. As mentioned above, filling out Investigation Checklists can earn you some credits, but it might not be enough; you need to at least generate a minimum number per episode to cover your Union Dues, otherwise shortfalls back home start to be an issue. The rest of the Credits are earned by finding strategic resources that the Union can use; reserves of metals, lithium, and exotic materials, for instance, but also useful allies or destroyed vessels from hostile nations in wartime. Prospecting is very often the most lucrative, as you usually find plenty of resources as a side effect from snooping around.

Here’s the catch, tough; it’s not enough just to find resources in many cases, you need to secure them. That means making sure that your pesky rivals don’t have a claim on it, yes, but it also means ensuring that the resources can be extracted. A big load of titanium on a planet isn’t actually very valuable, but a big load of titanium on a planet with a local workforce friendly to the Union and sufficient spacelife capabilities will earn you a fair number of credits. 

Many resources, like exotic materials, simply don’t exist at all without being artificially created, so securing them is more about diplomacy than prospecting. Other times, there may be things that need solving to make the resources available; maybe it's in the territory of a state on the planet hostile to the Union, or the impoverished locals might not have the ability to build the infrastructure needed to exploit the resource. You can, in some cases, actually end up spending some Credits as developmental aid to ‘solve’ those issues and earn more in the long run.

You may notice this might, in some circumstances, create some perverse incentives. To which we respond…

Yeah. That’s the game.

#torchship #torchship ttrpg #ttrpg #dev diary