#i fucking love ao3

[stevieschesthairs]

COUGH COUGH eddie munson COUGH

#I EDITED THIS MYSELF #i fucking LOVE ao3 #ao3 is the fucking BEST #STEDDIE #steddie is canon because i say so #gay pride #anyway #ao3 #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #eddie munson #st4 #stranger things #the upside down #headcannons #steve harrington

[bababaka]

Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.

So. After the ddos attack on ao3.

I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.

I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.

Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.

Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.

I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!

At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.

Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.

That warmed my heart.

Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.

Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.

Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.

#fanfiction writer #fanfic #ao3 #ramble #it was a naruto fanfic #a narusasusaku fic #also had another thing #i commented on my fav fic that hasnt been updated for a while #i didnt pressured the author to write #because you dont fucking do that >:( #but #just freaked out and talked about how much i loved their writing and the fic #two days later they updated the fic #and then told me i inspired them to finish the chapter #and that's what you're supposed to do! #interact with the author #the fic! #no need to pressure them into writing! #sometimes just words of love and support is enough! #be nice to your writers! #or im gonna smash some sense into yall

[cyriite]

this is epic

#i fucking love ao3 #sai's thoughts

[iaminjail]

michael mell gets bullied by an evil supercomputer.png this is not a michael gets squipped au btw lol i just wanted to draw smth silly. anyways i love this guy forreel <3

cropped ver.

#be more chill #bmc #bmc fanart #michael mell #bmc michael #hellooooo bmc fandom #(my voice echoes distantly along an empty hallway) #yeah idk be more chill pops up in my head every year or so and i go mentally ill #this time specifically i randomly thought of that sick as fuck bakunawa au #like dawg that one og fic was my first ever favorite fic on ao3 #(bmc is the first fandom i even looked up on ao3 too) #soooo yeah i reread it and its one of the few things in this world that nostalgia didnt rose tint #its still banger i still love that fic to itty bitty bits #anyways uh rant over. bmc will never let me leave. help.

[mrghostrat]

Big Name Feelings - 5/?

chapter 5: first hug, first kiss

None of Crowley's 4K lenses or selfie-cams in sunbeams did any justice to the depth of his amber irises, which positively shone in person, even in the diminishing light of their hotel overheads. The stark cool glow of the iPad screen glinted off the rivulets of brown, brightening and blending the lightest edges into a silky gold. He spent hours every day pouring over palettes and hand mixing the perfect pigments, but that yellow was the most beautiful colour Aziraphale had ever seen in his life.

[ full size art ]

#i swear to god it feels like 1 day has passed since i updated but ao3 is telling me it's nearly been a week SO #let's do this 😈 #i fucking love this art you guys AAAAAAAA #good omens #good omens au #gomens #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fic rec #rat writes #good omens art #rat draws

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc fanfic #wip game #thanks for the ask <3 and thanks for helping me remember this fic lol #also huge thanks for having the prompt linked because i have S O M A N Y prompt wips that i can't ever post because i've lost the post #didn't really know how to get danny to calm down #that's a lie #i have a few ideas of where this can go but no motivation for it - not against all the other wips #i'll keep at it and ig post to ao3 should it actually start looking alright #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #dudes did u kno u can pin shit to your clipboard on desktop because i fucking love that #also if you use the windows key + . there's like emojis and shit #(((φ(◎ロ◎;)φ))) #<- and kaomoji too!!!!! #anyway that's been fun facts and fanfic with me. ur welcome #oh shit my writing tag #hailsatanacrab🦀🦀writes #at some point 'oh shit my writing tag' will just become my writing tag #anyway thank you again for the ask #good night everyone!!!!!

[aboveweirdest]

Big fan of fanfiction. Shit's wild, one moment you're reading about the most unhinged crack plot and/or unspeakable smut, then the author will hit you with a dissertation about how gods are just as humanly flawed or a heartstopping line like "eternity ends with you"

And then back to the egregious fucking without pause. What an art form.

#motherfuckers giving me whiplash #of the emotional variety #fucking love that shit #i will waste hours of my day on exactly this #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #ao3

[phvnthom]

Reading back all your ao3 comments is literally the highest form of self-care

#it's such an EGO BOOST #but damn it's so sweet seeing that ppl actually give a fuck about what you've written #especially for me who doesn't have object permanence #it's reaffirming seeing them and reminding myself it's all real and that I actually wrote my fic #like damn i did THAT #either way i love all of you forever <3 #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #w

[thetrinitytest]

#the animosity between these two is so palpable it’s suffocating. of course i think they should make out sloppy style #listen i love jack x ianto as much as the next TW girlie. can’t get enough of jack x john’s relationship dynamic either #and i think jack x john x ianto is a god-tier ship (and a personal favorite) and is CRIMINALLY underrated and overlooked #but there is also something about john x ianto specifically #the POSSIBILITIES #they’re haters they’re lovers they’re enemies they’re allies #they’re the jealous type they love (and hate) the same man they desperately need some serious counseling and will never EVER get it #they got paraphilias out the wazoo they are far too emotionally unhealthy to be in a proper D/s #they’re at each other’s throats and they’re down each other’s throats #they set each other on fire and now they can’t get enough of the flames #they will never fully be honest and vulnerable with themselves or each other (except for that flicker of a moment when they are) #the reasons they hate each other become the reasons that they don’t #they are having the fuck nastiest hate sex as we speak #it’s so delicious. i am fascinated by them #i have so many thoughts about them if i genuinely wasn’t shit at putting a story together i would be bombing their AO3 tag w fics #spreading the johnto agenda fo today #torchwood #johnto #john hart #ianto jones #john x ianto

[thesmuttyduchess]

#just girly posts #im just a girl #this is a girlblog #just girly things #smutty smut smut #hornyasf #actually psychotic #dark romance #dark fantasy #evil man #coriolanus snow #feyd rautha #paul atreides #anakin skywalker #simon ghost riley #fantasy high #ao3 #just girly thoughts #smut #choked while fucked #morally grey characters #villain #hot villain #girlblogging #i can fix him #hornyposting #but daddy i love him

[arkhammaid]

max has always been fascinated by the way the tifosi treat charles. it's fanatical, pure insanity, the way they grasp for him, hands reaching out to touch. and that was before charles won the WDC, way before, even back then when they still had seb in ferrari.

he has seen the jokes, the cursed jesus!charles picture and tifosi kneeling in front of it, he has seen babies handed to charles as if they're asking for a blessing- he has seen many things, which just prove to him how much the tifosi love charles. they love him more than seb, more than schumacher, heck, on some days one might think they love him more than ferrari.

but the insane thing is... charles loves them equally back. he bleeds red, he drives red, he dreams red, he wins red. it's his color, mind, body, heart and soul and the tifosi know it.

their behavior doesn't change when lewis joins ferrari, their favorite is still charles. but it starts to change, when charles beats his ongoing streak of WDCs, claiming his own.

it's then, when max begins to see the true power of tifosi and their belief.

or

tifosi * their belief in charles + a ferrari WDC win (by charles) + a sprinkle of insanity = man turned god charles leclerc

OR

in which i'm too lazy/busy to write a proper lestappen fic worthy of this idea (maybe in the future, maybe i'm opening the docs rn to set up a draft, maybe-) which is very much PJO/greek mythology inspired, based on the idea that gods only have so much power if mortals believe in them. but what if millions of mortals start to actually believe and pray to someone they think is blessed, the predestined, a god to them?

heavily inspired by these infamous pictures and this incredible fanart (and ofc the jesus!charles poster, yk which one i'm talking about...)

#charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #yes. yes this is max finally realizing he has the feels for his childhood rival it only took for said rival to turn into a fucking immortal #-for him to actually realize it. #men are fools (especially them) but we love them anyways #f1 #IF i ever write this fic i promise i will put it on ao3 and reblog this post. but i will not promise that this idea will ever become a fic #fic idea

[python333]

task force 141 getting gaslighted by [reader] — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the title says, tf141 gets gaslighted by [reader]... nothing serious, dw!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings gaslighting, but used in extremely stupid and unnecessary ways, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], probably ooc but i'm a little more confident in this one than the last one!

note i'm so sorry that this is so long... it's like 3k+ words :{ and the soap and gaz sections are a majority of those words LMAO also tysm to the people who reblogged my last post?? thats so sweet?? im crying?? it was my first post too so i was just hdjsfhjdhsfjf tysm tysm!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ price is basically your dad atp.

➥ so it’s safe to say he knows about pretty much all of your weird little antics and shenanigans.

➥ this includes your tendency to gaslight people about the stupidest shit possible.

➥ trust him, he was a victim of this.

➥ the first time it happened, it was just too perfect of an opportunity for you to pass up.

➥ price was trying to eat his food in the mess hall, when you had sidled up right next to him at the small table he was eating at, and commented on his food choice.

➥ “Oh, nice. We got the same thing.” you’d said, setting down your tray of chicken, rice, and potatoes right next to price’s bowl of soup.

➥ at first, he thought you were just joking, and gave you an amused look and commented something along the lines of you being blind because you absolutely did not get the same thing as him.

➥ you take your gaslighting very seriously. this is not a joke.

➥ so you insist that you did in fact get the same thing, and you shoot a very confused look at him for good measure. your definitely-serious tone throws price off, because there’s no way you could possibly think you both actually got the same thing…

➥ … right?

➥ cue the rest of your lunch being spent alternating between eating your food and arguing that, “But we did get the same thing!” while price can only counter with, “No we did not!”

➥ now you may think that this is the point where you give up.

➥ it absolutely is not.

➥ see, price’s first mistake was giving you leeway to argue with him over this. his second mistake was suggesting that you ask someone to come over to the table and settle this by telling you both if you did get the same thing for lunch.

➥ naturally, you chose soap, because who else would encourage your bullshit with the same enthusiasm he does?

➥ long story short, he agrees to come over and settle the very weird argument you’ve started with price, and takes a very close look at both you and price’s chosen food items for the day and after you shoot him a glance that tells him everything he needs to know he confidently says, “Aye, these’re the same.”

➥ price has never recovered from the crisis he had after that entire interaction.

➥ so, the next time you do it, he knows exactly what to do.

—

When you sat down next to Price during lunch, he immediately got a sense of deja vu. Which is weird, because you sit next to him everyday, so what could possibly be different about today?

“Oh, nice. We got the same thing,” you’d commented offhandedly, setting down your tray of food, of which was just about the direct opposite of Price’s meal. Oh, so that’s why I feel like this has happened before. Price stared at your tray for a moment, flashbacks running through his mind, recalling his trauma from the last time this happened.

Then finally, cautiously, he agreed, “... Yeah. Whatta coincidence.”

You didn’t know if you should feel disappointed, happy, or shocked by him agreeing with you this time. You were fully prepared to pull Soap and Gaz aside to take a look at both of your trays of food and agree that they were the exact same meal, down to the portion sizes and everything. After a quick moment of thinking, you smile at him with the most innocent smile you can muster and eat your food, ignoring the sigh of relief Price lets out when you don’t begin to argue with him.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ actively enjoys being gaslighted.

➥ in the sense of like, how many ways can he defend himself in ways you can’t argue with?

➥ he’s like the gaslighting victim version of markiplier with the whole ‘i’m not a masochist, i just wanna see how much pain i can handle’.

➥ so safe to say he very much encourages your gaslighting.

➥ the first time and only time you ever gaslighted him was when you were both hanging out in his room, both of you on your phones, soap watching ‘my babysitter’s a vampire’ after you told him you thought he’d enjoy watching it, and you scrolling through social media to pass the time.

➥ then, you got an idea.

➥ “Soap?” soap perks up at the sound of his name and hums in acknowledgement of you talking to him, “Have you finished that show I recommended to you yet?”

➥ “Nah, I’ve still got a few episodes left.” he’d responded.

➥ “Really? What season are you on?”

➥ “The last season, season two.”

➥ “... What do you mean the last season?”

➥ you two go back and forth, with you insisting that no, you told him to watch ‘the vampire diaries’, not ‘my babysitter’s a vampire’.

➥ the entire thing goes on for at least thirty minutes before soap sighs and insists that you’d told him to watch ‘my babysitter’s a vampire’ one last time, and you finally break.

➥ you break out into a small fit of laughter, and stop yourself to take a deep breath and admit, “Yeah, I did.”

➥ honestly, soap is very impressed by your determination to manipulate him. 10/10 would encourage you to do it again. in fact, will help you gaslight anyone you so please.

—

You and Soap were sitting in his room, him on the bed and you on the floor sitting down on one of his pillows. You’d just been scrolling through any and all apps you had, even going through your photos app, bored out of your mind, when you suddenly got an idea. You turned off your phone and looked over at Soap.

“Soap?” He tapped on his phone screen to pause the show he was watching and hummed, looking over at you. “Have you finished that show I recommended to you yet?”

“Nah, I’ve still got a few episodes left,” he’d answered, sitting up and cracking his knuckles.

“Really?” you’d asked, feigning confusion, “What season are you on?”

“The last one, season two,” he replied, showing you his phone screen. You looked at it for a moment before drawing your eyebrows together in pseudo-confusion.

“... What do you mean the last season?” you’d asked, “There’s eight seasons.”

“Uhh…” Soap looked back at his phone screen, confused, and tapped his screen a few times before he shook his head, “Nay, there’re two seasons, c/n.”

“Are you watching the right show?” you’d asked, watching as Soap nods confidently, and yes. You had set down your phone, ready for this new form of entertainment.

“Yeah. My Babysitter’s a Vampire, right?” he said, hoping for confirmation that he’s watching the correct show. You slowly shake your head negatively.

“No, I told you that you should watch Vampire Diaries,” you’d clarified, watching as Soap started to disagree.

“Nay, ye told me tae watch the Babysitter one,” Soap argued, quickly pulling up his text messages with you, “I reckon I’d ken if ye told me tae watch Vampire Diaries.”

“Well, I did,” you argued back, “I told you, verbatim, ‘hey you should watch Vampire Diaries, I think you’d really like it, since you like making fun of old 2000s shows with me’. I texted you yesterday about it.”

Soap raised an eyebrow before he’d turned his phone to you, showing you your text messages from yesterday, where you definitely did not tell him to watch Vampire Diaries. You took a good look at the text messages, before looking up at Soap, concerned, “Are you okay? That clearly says what I said it says.”

Soap looked baffled, and it took everything in you not to laugh, “Nay, ye messaged me tae watch the Babysitter one, so I’m watchin’ the Babysitter one!”

You two went back and forth, arguing over what the text actually said. You’d constantly deny everything Soap saw and he’d argue back in the most flabbergasted tone that ‘Nay, it’s richt there, I ken I’m no’ goin’ daft!’ and you argued back that he’s definitely seeing things because how could he possibly be reading the text but see completely different words than what it actually says?

Eventually, you both stopped arguing, taking time to catch your breaths. You had taken one look at Soap’s miserable facial expression before breaking out into a small fit of laughter, giggles spilling from your lips as you tried to muffle them by putting your hand over your mouth.

“Ye ‘nd I baith ken that the text says you want me to watch My Babysitter’s a Vampire,” Soap breathed out, watching you try and muffle your laughter.

After you’d taken a moment to catch your breath, you admit, “Yeah, I know.”

Soap’s eyes widened and he immediately said, “So ye admit it?”

You nodded affirmatively and he groaned, flopping back down onto the bed, the action having made you giggle even more. “Ye’re a bampot,” he’d grumbled, though there was no serious anger or irritation behind his words.

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ now why would you even try this, huh?

➥ have you MET the dude?

➥ he absolutely will not fall for it.

➥ he won’t encourage it, won’t argue with you, in fact he’ll shut you down with a simple “No.”

➥ you’re too scared to even try again after the first time you tried it.

➥ the first time you tried to gaslight him, you were both just walking down the hall together.

➥ you tried convincing him that gaz was off on a mission when you had just passed by him.

➥ the look he gave you… my god.

➥ “No he isn’t.” i’m so sorry please let me jump off a cliff i’m sorry i made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment and i don’t expect to be forgiven i’m simply here to apologize mr. simon ghost riley lieutenant sir.

➥ you never try to gaslight him ever again.

—

You thought it was a good idea at the time. You don’t know what drugs you were on or what meds you were off, but you decided that, yeah, I can totally gaslight Ghost with no repercussions, that’s definitely possible. So here you are, walking right beside him, the both of you going to completely different locations but he doesn’t need to know that.

When you first sidled up to him, walking by his side down the hall, he looked over at you for a moment and was just a bit confused but didn’t say anything otherwise. The two of you passed by Gaz, who was minding his business just walking past the two of you. He gave you both a quick nod and you made a point to nod back, not only out of respect but because you thought it would make your gaslighting session just that much better.

Just a minute after passing Gaz, you sighed and commented, “Can’t believe Gaz is on that super long mission right now. Two weeks is crazy.”

Ghost had slowly turned his head towards you, a sight that made your stomach drop because oh God I definitely fucked up, and simply said, “No he isn’t. We just saw him.”

I think I just shit my pants. “Y- yeah, right, right, definitely, no clue what I was thinking,” you blurted out, stumbling over your sentences because oh my GOD I’m gonna piss myself why is he so scary lord have mercy on my soul. Ghost raised an eyebrow at you, before huffing out a small laugh and continuing his walk, amused by your sputtering. You let out a sigh of relief as he simply walked away, and you headed in the correct way of where you're supposed to go, completely chickening out of your original plan.

—

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

➥ oh that poor poor boy.

➥ probably gives into it and just lets you gaslight him tbh.

➥ like maybe if your argument/gaslighting isn’t too strong he’ll argue with you, and sure he still won’t win but it was worth a try, but if you’re gaslighting-gaslighting him? he’s just gonna agree with you.

➥ like at that point anything you say is law and he is a law-abiding citizen.

➥ if your argument is strong enough and he’s tired enough he will genuinely believe you, too.

➥#savegazfromreader

➥ the first time you tried to gaslight him, it was pretty easy. you two had just finished sparring, with you coming out on top, much to your own surprise. gaz had given you a lighthearted pat on the shoulder and went off to shower, when you had the best idea you’ve ever had.

➥ you had groaned and playfully complained, “I can’t believe you won that.”

➥ gaz turned around, confused, and was like, “Won what?”

➥ cue the next 5 minutes being spent by you saying that gaz had won and arguing with him that he did win.

➥ “Honestly, you don’t have to lie and say I won. I appreciate that you don’t want me to feel bad, but I can take a loss.”

➥ hes so confused omg.

➥ starts gaslighting himself into thinking he won, then he’s like ‘wait no i didn’t’.

➥ but he still goes along with it because… what else is he supposed to do?

➥ ever since then he’s been your main gaslighting victim, and your favorite.

—

You hated the feeling of being sweaty, but you hated the feeling of someone else’s sweat even more. Maybe that’s what tripped you up that day, letting Gaz swipe his leg underneath yours and force you to fall down onto the mat beneath you, where he then started counting to ten, as per usual with sparring. But luckily for you, you were able to grab his ankle and yank it towards you, making Gaz fall on his ass and letting you straddle his chest and begin to count to ten just as he was doing earlier.

Of course, you dramatized your counting, because who would you be if you didn’t? You emphasized every number and your lips twitched into a small smile as you watched Gaz scoff and look away from you, clearly fed up with your theatrics. Once you were done counting, you got up and held out a hand for Gaz, who took it and got up, letting out a huff and patting you on the shoulder.

“Good job,” He’d said, smiling down at you, stepping off the mat and walking over to the bag of stuff he’d brought with him. After that small interaction, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to gaslight him. It’s not your fault! Who else would pass up an opportunity like this?

You groaned and stepped off the mat, muttering, “I can’t believe you won that. I really though I had you.”

“Won what?” Gaz questioned, looking back at you, confused.

“The spar?” You answered, though you made your answer sound more questioning, as if confused on why he’d even question your words. As if it was obvious that you hadn’t won. Gaz simply looked at you, very confused, trying to figure out if you’re joking or not. By the serious look on your face—a poker face you’ve worked on for the longest time—he figured that you weren’t not kidding, which worries him a bit.

”... No, you won that spar,” Gaz insisted, before nervously joking, “Remember? Thirty seconds ago, when you kicked my arse after I thought I had you down?”

“Honestly, you don’t have to lie and say I won,” You laughed, walking over to Gaz and patting him on the back, “It’s not like I’m a sore loser or anything like that. I can take a loss.”

He was so confused, and continued to insist that you had won the small sparring match, and got more and more confused the more you fought with him on this. He was so sure that you had won—you did, didn’t you?

He eventually just sighed, and ‘admitted’ that you were right, he did win. Satisfied, you smiled up at him and reminded him that you can take a loss, and you went on with your day. And if you heard him asking Price if he could go through the security cameras for a moment, requesting to go back to that specific time the two of you had sparred, no you didn’t.

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #taskforce 141 #task force 141 #tf141 #tf141 x reader #platonic #platonic taskforce141 #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #again...... fucking hate tagging #listen i love tagging on ao3 but #tumblr is a diff story #tags are my diary fr

[beardedjoel]

closer | part one

joel x f!reader. non-apocalypse au

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

story summary: you are staying with your parents, helping them move into their new house in austin. what happens when joel miller, the attractive neighbor you've been eyeing obsessively starts to show you some much wanted attention? 4.9k words.

chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), masturbation (f and m), reader is described in a few outfits (shorts and cropped shirt) and as having hair, this chapter is mostly expo and some ~flirtations~

a/n: been posting this mostly on ao3 for a while but thought the tumblr audience might also enjoy my self indulgent joel smut story <3

It’s well into your second week staying with your parents, and you’re laying in the grass in their backyard, reading the latest off your long list of books you’ve been itching to get into. It’s pleasant but already getting hot as you lounge in the shade, the Texas summer heat not yet at its peak for the day.

You came to stay with your parents in Austin after they officially moved here several weeks before you arrived, and your mom called you in a panic because your dad broke his leg falling down the stairs while they were moving in. You remember sighing loudly, your accident prone dad had finally broken something, and of course it was something this major.

You had already planned to move here after a job offer at a new startup in Austin was too alluring to pass up on, and after graduating from your Master’s program you had no further plans before this came along. So you came a few weeks before you planned to, hurriedly packing up your things in Chicago and coming to help your frazzled mother before planning to eventually find your own place and get settled at your new job. It’s been mostly relaxing aside from the moving and your anxious mother buzzing around constantly, almost like a little vacation before you start the rest of your life after years of college.

You peer up from your book, seeing their dog Benny, a chocolate lab, running around the yard with a smile. You stifle a yawn before taking another drink from the iced coffee set beside you in the grass, the glass sweating onto your hand. You go on high alert quickly, though, when you see that your parents’ neighbor is pulling out his lawn mower in the yard next door. This is the other perk of staying here - Joel Miller, the man who lives next door, the man you’ve been obsessed with since the first time you laid eyes on him. You haven’t managed to say a word to him, but every time he’s outside you’ve watched him as casually as possible, trying to learn more about him, observe him. You feel completely creepy half the time that you’re so interested in everything he does, but it’s hard to help it when he’s the most attractive, alluring man you’ve ever seen. He’s definitely older than you, although you can’t be sure by how much, but none of that matters to you as you lay your eyes on his toned form across the way, taking in his tanned skin, slightly tousled dark hair, and beard yet another time.

You find it hard to go back to concentrating on your book, although you’re certainly pretending to as you periodically look at him through your sunglasses while he mows his lawn. Even from afar, you can see the sweat glistening on his forehead and neck as he works out under the sun, and it’s driving you insane to think about how it would look up close. You can picture a bead of sweat running down the back of his shirt, and you have to force yourself to snap out of it. When the hell did you become such a horned up monster like this? It has… been a while since you’ve been with anyone, and even then those past encounters were pretty underwhelming, you muse to yourself as you continue to peek over at Joel. He reaches his white t-shirt up to wipe the sweat off of his face and you have to bite down on your lip as you see a glimmer of his stomach appear and then disappear.

Fuck, you need to go inside and cool off.

You snap your book shut, gathering your things and heading back towards your parents’ house, to the small detached apartment above the garage that came with the place. They hadn't thought much of it initially when they purchased the home, but for this situation it worked out perfectly - as a grown adult you were dreading the lack of personal space that would surely come with staying with your parents. This small apartment was a great surprise to find out about after agreeing to come to Austin early, affording you a bit of privacy. And thankfully you have it, you think as you quickly fling yourself onto your bed, letting the air conditioning cool you off and try to wipe the downright nasty thoughts you’re having about your neighbor you don’t even know from your mind.

The more you try to fight it, the more the thoughts invade your mind, and not for the first time since you noticed Joel, you give into the thoughts and slowly reach down into your linen shorts and start touching yourself, feeling the wetness that had already formed just from seeing him mow the lawn and the racing desires you were having about him. For fuck’s sake, you think to yourself as you feel it, but move on quickly to imagining what was under that shirt, imagine undressing him and kissing him and fucking him. You just know he’d be a good fuck, a giving lover - he has a confident, sexual appeal to him that feels so undeniable. You rub your clit in slow circles, trying to picture his hand being the one to do it, and come quickly at the thought, biting down on your fist to muffle your panting moans just in case your parents could hear. You haven’t yet figured out the amount of noise traveling from the apartment to the rest of the house, so better to be safe than sorry. You lay, breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling for a bit, debating yet again on finally talking to him. There’s no way you’d even be able to get a sentence out at this point, and you laugh to yourself trying to picture it.

Instead, you keep yourself busy around the house for a while with your mother while your dad attempts to unpack some things from a chair, his leg fully casted. You both roll your eyes jestingly at his effort, and continue to organize until your mom decides she wants to go pick up some dinner. When you sit down with them that evening to eat, you notice Joel through the kitchen window, which has a decent view into his yard. He’s cooking on his grill, holding a beer in the other hand, taking a swig from it. You sigh quickly, irritated that you can’t even eat your pizza in peace without his distractions. Your parents both eye you, your mom asking if anything is wrong with the food, and you shake your head.

“No, I just… remembered I was supposed to call my friend back in Chicago - you remember Sofia? So I think I’ll just eat the rest of this up in my space, if that’s okay,” you say, lying right to their faces.

“Of course, don’t miss your little date with Sofia,” your mom smiles at you, and you excuse yourself, grabbing the plate of pizza and going through the sliding glass door to the backyard. The entrance to your apartment is along the back of the garage and up a flight of stairs, so you have to cut through the yard to get there. As you approach the stairs, it takes you nearer to Joel’s fence and your view of him at his grill. His back is turned, but when you walk closer he turns slightly, just enough to catch your eye. He raises his beer slightly as a greeting and gives you a smile, and you’re barely able to smile back due to the nervous butterflies you now feel under his gaze. You rush quickly now, darting up the stairs and heading into your apartment.

Coward, you think as you set the pizza down on the counter of the small kitchenette and hold your head in your hands until you can calm down. You do indeed end up calling Sofia, filling her in on the latest news of your “hot neighbor” as you two have been naming him, and she laughs in earnest at your complete inability to speak to Joel, that she’s never seen you like this about anybody, but continues to encourage you to go for it. She says she knows you’ve got it in you, but you aren’t sure anymore. You can’t tell if she’s a bad or good influence on you, but you do know you desperately want to follow her advice and simply begin by having a conversation with the man. Maybe once you talk to him, you won't feel this insane desperation towards him anymore, maybe he’ll be boring, maybe he’ll seem uninteresting if you get to know him. Somehow, you think as you try to fall asleep that night, you doubt all of that to be true.

“Mother fucker…” you mutter angrily to yourself the next day, attempting to do… you truly have no clue what you’re attempting to do to fix this gate, but you’re stubborn enough to keep trying. Your parents are both out of the house at work today, and you were told to try and be productive, so here you are trying to do just that, desperately poking, prodding, screwing and unscrewing pieces on this latch.

“That’s quite a mouth you got on ya there,” a deep, slightly rough voice with a southern accent cuts in. You gasp lightly in surprise, having not heard him coming with how focused you’d been. You turn your body and look up from your crouched position, shielding your eyes from the sun shining behind him. It’s Joel Miller, right there in the flesh, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to him. He must have come up behind you from the pathway that leads to the driveway of the house when he saw you struggling with the gate. You can see the lines in his face a little better - his tan, speckled skin, and brown eyes are catching your attention much more at this distance. You suppose you’d known he had brown eyes, but as you rise up to meet him, you’re absolutely mesmerized by them.

“I… uh,” you stammer, still surprised he’s talking to you. “My mom would kill me if she knew a stranger heard me talking like that,” you laugh a little, rubbing your neck nervously, feeling how it’s sticky with a layer of sweat from being out in the hot sun. You can’t believe those are the first words you’re uttering to Joel, the one you’ve been trying to find the perfect thing to say to introduce yourself to, and you end up talking about your fucking mom. Just great.

“Good thing I ain’t a stranger then, I’m a neighbor,” Joel replies, looking at you with a small, friendly smile. You see his eyes roam quickly over your whole body, taking in your shorts and small cropped tank top leaving little to the imagination. You feel your cheeks go warm under his gaze taking in your features.

“Yeah, but I don’t even know your name, so where does that leave us?” you lie, acting as if you hadn’t casually asked your parents about him as soon as you could fit it into a conversation.

Joel lets out a little chuckle, his whole body seeming to rumble slightly with it. “Right,” he says, and you think he may be able to see right through you with his scrutinizing eyes. “Your folks didn’t tell you anything about me, then?”

“Not really,” you say sheepishly. He doesn’t seem to buy it, but he plays along.

“I’m Joel,” he reaches out a hand, “Miller.”

You tell him your name and grab his hand to shake it. His grip is firm but gentle with you, and you can feel how hard his large hands are from working with them. You try not to have a visceral reaction from touching him, but you can feel yourself shy away from it and you hope to any higher being that he doesn’t notice.

“What’cha workin’ on there?” he asks, gesturing to the gate.

You press your lips together, feeling embarrassed at him having seen you fail so miserably at your handiwork. “Just trying to fix this gate for my parents, the latch is messed up or something,” you say, biting your lip nervously. Joel gives a wry smile with his head cocked as you attempt to explain.

“Lemme take a look, darlin’,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder to gently move you to the side. You try not to let your mouth hang open at his use of a pet name and the feeling of his hand touching your bare skin. You don’t know how it got this far, these few weeks spent watching him from afar, that you’d fallen head over heels for the man based on sight alone. Now that he was talking to you, touching you, there was absolutely no turning back now. You need more, all of your senses already hungry for him, and you force yourself to reign it in as quickly as you can, blinking to focus on what Joel is doing.

He inspects the latch, testing it a few times before calling you over to look more closely. You can barely breathe as you stand next to him, the warmth of his body radiating towards you, but despite the heat of the day, you find you don’t mind it at all.

“Now see here?” He says, pointing to an area on the latch mechanism. “This is all bent up, no wonder it keeps poppin’ open.” You realize he must have been watching you attempt to fix this for longer than you’d thought, if he knew that the latch had kept popping back open on you. The thought is equally tantalizing and embarrassing and you can’t help but wonder what he was thinking of you as he watched. You realize he’s looking towards you now, awaiting confirmation that you understood what he said. You make quick eye contact, but decide to focus your eyes on the latch instead so you don’t immediately lose your train of thought.

“Ah, okay. So... what do we do, then?” You bite your lip again, then silently curse yourself for the nervous habit.

“Could try hammerin’ it back into place until you can get a new piece,” he says with a small shrug, still standing close to you. “You got a hammer in that toolbox of yours?” he asks, motioning down to where it rests near your feet. You bend down to grab it for him, feeling his eyes on you as you grab the hammer and hand it to over him. He shows you what he’s doing and explains along the way, but you can hardly pay attention - his toned arms, tan from being out in the sun, are bulging out of his dark t-shirt as he puts the effort in to knock the latch back into place are the biggest distraction. You nod along and appear interested, sneaking a quick glance at his arms or concentrated face every so often.

“All done, should do for now,” he says, quickly testing the gate’s latch, then turning to you with another friendly smile, his brown eyes catching yours again.

“G-great, thank you,” you say, knowing you want to keep the conversation going, but unsure of how to keep his interest. What the hell could hold his interest about a stuttering, inexperienced woman like you? “Really, I appreciate it. Who knows how long I’d have been out here trying to fix that.” You laugh a little, and it comes out nervous sounding, which makes you nearly cringe. But Joel just continues his lopsided smile at you and hands the hammer back over.

“My pleasure, darlin’, felt like the neighborly thing to do,” he replies. You think you might pass out if he calls you darlin’ one more time, you swear it. “Got anything else you needed my help with?”

You try not to look too stunned at his offer, knowing it’s your chance to try and get to know him better, and not wanting to mess it up.

“Actually, y-yes,” you say, and it’s the truth. Your parents house came with a few projects that have now become your problem since you’d offered to help out. “I was going to try and fix this cabinet in my parents’ kitchen, but you don’t have to -” you start, but Joel interrupts you quickly.

“Let’s go on then, show me,” he says, putting a hand out for you to lead the way. You walk through the newly fixed gate and into the backyard, leading him towards the sliding glass door.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take up too much of your time, I can probably figure it out,” you offer as you start to open the door.

“No offense honey, but the way you were fightin’ with that gate, I think you could use my help in here,” he says, his accent thick on the word ‘honey’ and you feel yourself sink into the feeling of it, a warmth low in your belly that spreads outwards. You just give him a nervous but appreciative smile as you lead him into the kitchen. The air conditioning immediately brings you relief from the way your cheeks are burning, just being around Joel sending you reeling. Goosebumps coat your skin and you cross your arms instinctively at the cooler air hitting you and shut the door behind Joel after he enters. Benny comes in the room, sniffing at Joel, and Joel pets him and gives him a scratch behind the ears with a soft smile before Benny trots off. You try to hold back a smile at the immediate green flag popping up with how sweet Joel was with Benny.

“Sorry about the mess, uh, still unpacking everything here,” you apologize, walking past some boxes and taking note of all the piles of stuff yet to get put in its place. “Did you… want some water, or anything?”

Joel nods. “You’re a polite thing, aren’t you,” he drawls, eyeing you, and the way he says it makes your skin tingle, the hairs on your arms standing up. “Raised in the south, I assume?” he says, watching you think for a moment which cabinet your parents had unpacked the glasses to and quickly finding one, trying to hide your slightly shaking hands as you fill the cup at the sink.

“Er, yeah, San Antonio,” you say, handing him the glass. He takes a lengthy sip then looks back in your direction.

“What brought your folks to Austin? Brought you to Austin?” he asks casually, leaning against the countertop now. He sure is making it easy to continue the conversation, which is exactly what you were hoping for, him carrying the brunt of it while you try to get your footing.

“My parents wanted to be a bit closer to family, buy a smaller house, that kind of thing. I’m just back here from school in Chicago to help them settle in since my dad broke his leg right after they moved. And a job offer here in Austin kind of sealed the deal for me,” you ramble nervously, unsure of what to do with your hands so you tug anxiously at your shorts.

“Hm,” Joel says, considering you and tilting his head to the side. “Awful sweet of you to help out.”

“T-thanks, it’s not a big deal, just for a while until I get set up at my new job,” you say as a shaky smile crosses your face. You’re looking at the floor on and off for most of the conversation, trying your best to meet his eyeline.

“A bit shy too, it seems,” he smirks a little, but not in a condescending way - it’s friendly, and almost sweet. “Seen you round, but you’ve never said hello,” he says. You think you can’t possibly feel any more flushed and embarrassed  around him, but there it is, that familiar burning feeling rising to your cheeks.

“Neither did you,” you retort, trying to sound brave and sassy, maybe the type of girl Joel would be into. He laughs a little at your comment, and you wonder if you’re on the right track.

“Fair point there,” he replies, “Didn’t wanna scare you away, I ‘spose.” His tone is teasing, but you have to wonder quickly at the content, that he was... worried about scaring you away. Does that mean he’d noticed you, wanted to get to know you as well, but didn’t know how to approach? You brush off the runaway thoughts, assuming he was just joking around and being friendly, because there was not a chance any of that was true. You picture yourself in his eyes and nearly shake your head - of course none of it could be true.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you say back, surprising yourself with your own words, feeling a rush of pride that you were able to flirt with him, even if just a little. Your response gets another smile out of him, and he seems to take note of your flirty tone with a small raise of his eyebrows.

“Let’s take a look at that cabinet, then,” he says, putting the glass down on the counter. You show him the slightly crooked upper cabinet that’s been driving your mom nuts, the one you swore to her you could try and fix today. You aren’t sure if you want to even explain the whole truth to her when she sees with surprise that it actually got done - you think she might be upset with a stranger being in the house, but like Joel said, he’s a neighbor, not a stranger. “You got a power drill?” he asks, interrupting your thoughts.

“Oh, um,” you say, thinking out loud, “I think it’s around here somewhere,” you immediately start looking around busily, trying to remember where your dad said he put it in this current mess of a house.

“No worries, let me just go and grab mine,” he offers, leaving out the sliding door and you standing alone. Finally. You release a long, slow breath, realizing you’d practically been holding it without noticing. You try to shake off the nerves, not let Joel get to you so much - he’s just your neighbor, just some guy, you shouldn’t be this puddling, nervous mess around him. But the way you felt being so close to him when you’ve been pining for him from afar has far from left you, you think as your stomach turns with butterflies.

Joel returns before you can fully calm yourself down and begins working on the cabinet. When he reaches up to use the drill on the hinges, his shirt lifts slightly, just enough to see a sliver of skin around the waistband of his jeans. You’re mesmerized by it, and feel warm all over again despite the air conditioning blasting through the house. You’re currently lost in wondering what it would be like to grab a fistful of his shirt and continue lifting it up, revealing his stomach and chest, the little peek of hair you can see there.

The intermittent noise of the drill as he works has become background noise to the downright filthy thoughts you were having about Joel’s midriff, so you don’t fully notice when it stops and Joel turns towards you, catching where your eyes had just been staring. You inhale sharply, caught in the act, and avert your eyes, rubbing your arm and trying to look casual. You swear you hear a quiet chuckle come from him and you know your expression gives you away, but you dare to bring your eyes up to his face, which is watching you with a knowing smirk.

“All set,” he says, seeming to choose not to comment on the situation, which you silently thank him for. He made quick work of fixing the cabinet, and now you truly don’t have any other projects for him to work on, feeling a small pit in your stomach at the thought.

“Thank you,” you squeak out, still reeling from your embarrassment. “My parents will be relieved that all of this is fixed now, but I guess no thanks to me.” You laugh at your own confidence this morning, thinking you had the ability to do any this handiwork today when you’ve hardly fixed anything around the house in your life.

“Don’t think you’ve got a handy bone in your body, darlin’,” he jokes. “Tell you what - why don’t you tell them it was you, take all the credit,” he says, giving you a wink. A fucking wink. It’s quick and you almost think you imagined it, but it makes your knees feel like jelly.

“Oh, n-no, I couldn’t do that,” you say, furrowing your brows with a quick shake of your head. Joel chuckles, the sound rich and ringing in your ears beautifully. You realize you want to hear it a million times more, that you don’t think you could get tired of hearing that sound come out of his beautiful mouth, those plush lips so fucking inviting it’s driving you insane.

“Like I said, such a polite girl,” he teases, and your cheeks continue the way they’ve been steadily warming since you two started talking. “Well, you know where to find me if you ever need more help ‘round here,” he says, turning to head for the door, then after a few steps rotates back towards you slightly. “Or anything else,” he adds with what you swear is a devilish smile on his face. You feel your breath hitch at the words and almost can’t say anything at all, your mouth and throat drying up and refusing to make any noise for several seconds.

“T-thanks again, really,” you say, still dumbfounded, as he reaches the door. You follow closely behind, trying to be polite and close the door behind him - there it is again, damn it, the word polite.

“Take care.” He gives you another quick smile and walks off, leaving you standing in the doorway for a few moments before you blink hard and regroup, finally closing the door.

Joel leaves your house with a smug grin plastered on his face, his thoughts reeling from his interaction with you. Of course he’d noticed the sweet girl who arrived one day next door at his new neighbor’s house, the one who lounged around in the backyard in sexy summer clothes - little shorts and cropped shirts - trying to stay cool but making it hard for Joel to focus when he was struck by how beautiful you are. Of course he’d noticed how you noticed him, at first maybe thinking you were just being a little bit nosy, but then seeing the way he’d constantly feel your eyes on him, your expression changing over time as you continued to watch him throughout the weeks. He could sense the lustful look in your eyes even from afar, and did his best to keep his glances at you as short lived as he could stand. It was when he saw you laughing for the first time, fully and whole-heartedly, on the phone with someone as you twirled a strand of your hair, that he knew it was bad, that he was already in too deep.

He saw you always reading, writing in a journal, or sunbathing with headphones on, and it was mesmerizing to watch you in your element, Joel thought. He’d also noticed, whenever he did any kind of work in the yard, how you would watch more intensely, and his own thoughts would begin drifting into something inappropriate, until you’d get up in a hurry and head up into that little apartment above the garage. He didn’t want to make any assumptions on what you were doing, but seeing you rush away looking hot and bothered into a private place always left him feeling a bit of the same way. He’d already lost count of how many times you’d popped into his mind as he masturbated, despite him trying to avoid it, you always wormed your way in there, an image of you always being the final blow, the reason he came.

It was clear as day you were younger than him by a good amount, and he’d been having misgivings about it, thinking it was already borderline just how much he’d been unashamedly checking you out. But, when he saw you struggling with that gate, he couldn’t help but to watch with a little smile for a bit - you’d looked cute, your brow furrowed and concentrated, trying all the tools under the sun, having no idea what to do. He decided against his better judgment that it was time to step in and close the gap between you two, despite his reservations.

He hadn’t expected just how shy and nervous you’d be, based on your demeanor from afar and the way you’d been watching him. You’d seemed confident, cool headed, and a bit boisterous when you talked to your parents, or on the phone. It was sweet actually, he thought, just how shy he’d made you, but he hoped he hadn’t misread the situation and ended up making you uncomfortable. He found the way you’d looked so flustered and tripped up on your words so endearing, and the way you got a bit more bold towards the end of the conversation gave him hope. Hope for what, he wasn’t sure yet, but he was longing to find out exactly what you wanted from him.

You’re not crazy, you know that. You didn’t imagine the wink, and you certainly didn’t imagine the way he so slyly added on that last comment, saying to find him if you needed “anything else”. You spend the entire evening analyzing every moment of the conversation, then imagining what that ‘anything else’ could entail, and find yourself reaching a hand down your pants for yet another time that night, furiously fingering yourself with thoughts of handyman Joel fucking you on the kitchen counter. Then on your bed. His bed. The couch. Against a wall. In his truck. The list goes on and on, each new place you fucked in your head better than the last. You lay back, sighing, after you come again and still feel completely unsatisfied, knowing that you’ll remain this way until you experience the real thing. You go to sleep exhausted but with resolve that night, knowing you’re going to find out if there’s a possibility of fucking Joel Miller if it’s the last thing you do.

#PLEASE ENJOOOOY #i promise this shit gets juicy as fuck #this has been doing so well on ao3 i wanted to spread the love #fic: closer #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

[sandinthepipes]

The internet is awful 90% of the time, but then you remember that it has open source archives where you can access so much precious knowledge and informations and they're just sitting there for you to use. This is our Alexandria's library and it's greater than the original

#as a person who loves to learn the most random shit i really appreciate this kind of things #archives #library #archive.org #ao3 #because it's still an archive and i love it so #Wikipedia #when people don't fuck it up

[libby-for-life]

Okay. I got an idea for a request. If It's uh, okay:

Adam gets sent back in time all the way back in Eden to get a second chance at life after his death, but Lucifer —who used to have a bit of a yandere crush on Adam that never died out— is the one who gets to remember everything. And since he kinda gets what he did wrong the first time, he actually makes Adam bite the apple and be his "like it was supposed to be all along"

Also bit of Fanart for you, because seriously. Love your fanfiction a lot. I could gush about the potential, the characters and everything ughhhhaaaaaa *Sobs in spanish*

AAAAAHHHHH! MY FIRST FANART! IT'S BEAUTIFUL! I'M NOT CRYING, DAMMIT! I'M SWEATING THROUGH MY EYES!

But I do like your request! It would have to be a one-shot I'd post on ao3 because it would be a long one. Like, I'm talking a good 4,000 to 5,000 words to make sure it's good. But now that the idea is there, it's on the back burner.

Seriously though! I love your art style! Thank you for taking the time to read my book! When I posted that book, I honestly didn't expect it to blow up like this!

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #send asks #fanart #i fucking love this #AdamDies

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

when you mentioned in your tags that there was hardly any laughingstock i didn't believe you at first, but holy shit ur right. YOU AND @krasytoonz MADE ME INTO A LAUGHINGSTOCK BELIEVER. I WILL PAY TRIBUTE TO THESE SKRUNGLY FUCKERS SOON, MARK MY WORDS *shakes fist into the void*

no yeah Seriously though its just us out here, fighting for our lives in the fucking Trenches. in ten years someone is gonna use the word 'laughingstock' casually in conversation and im gonna have War Flashbacks

#no please get out while you still can #once you let them in all the way They Will Not Fucking Leave they are There Forever #the inside of my brain is just me huddled in a corner while they make out in the middle of my skull #BUT YEAH THERES BARELY ANYTHING #trust me whenever krasytoonz posts them i am instantly there to ravenously devour the crumbs like a rabid pigeon #they are my only outside source of barnaby/howdy #them and the side plot in Stamps by Indigopoptart on ao3 #oh the side plot my beloved.... im still starving but sometimes they trick me into feeling like im Feasting.... #and that one tidbit in Beautiful Boy Its Only Love by ImaginatorOf Things - also on ao3 ofc #and thats IT thats ALL I HAVE. all We have #shoving my entire fist into my mouth and biting it off while sobbing. screaming. etc. #oh the pain and joy of rarepairs... its been a while since ive been so taken with one... #who knows? with the power of friendship and this gun i found maybe one day it wont just be viewed as a crackship by the masses #rambles from the bog #gotta be honest. krasytoonz also converted me all the way #like i was tenuous about it at first... #it was just a Thought yk yk #i was like 'oh thats cute but like. as a side thing. a background thing. they dont have much going for them' #i think that was because i had nothing to enjoy outside of my own brain #i liked the very rare very jokey crumbs from a couple of clownsuu's posts #but it wasnt enough to make me go Theyre Mine Now #then i stumbled upon krasytoonz and one scrolling session later! i was fully hooked! just like that! #laughingstock went from a nebulous interest to a Permanent Fixture In My Braincase! #but yeah uhhhhh glad i could contribute to passing on the Illness #if you ever get free i will envy you #and to future me: if youre free i envy you as well. but i also pity you bc theyre so so good theyre so cute whats wrong with you- #i hate them & i love them & theyre nothing & theyre everything & they wont leave & ive locked the door