#i'm really just digging my own grave here

[zahri-melitor]

“It was only six feet,” muttered Dick.

“What did you just say?”

Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “I know you woke up in a grave and it was very traumatic for you, but you’re acting like this is the only time it had ever happened to anyone. You just had to dig straight up. Do you hear me complaining about it?”

"I'm sorry, did my ongoing trauma from being beaten to death and then waking up in a confined box make you feel uncomfortable, Dick?"

"You just keep going on about it like you're the only person who has ever experienced this. It sucks. No question. But getting out for you was basically on easy mode."

"It tore my fingernails off. I almost SUFFOCATED."

"That is part of being in a coffin, yes Jason."

“What are you talking about?” Tim walked into the room, towelling his hair dry from his shower.

“Being buried alive.”

“Digging myself out of my own grave.” Jason and Dick answered simultaneously.

“Well which is it?”

Jason glared at Dick. “Digging myself out. Dick here thinks that I’m blowing things out of proportion by being slightly upset about that building partly collapsing on me tonight.”

“Well, that is a conversation I can’t contribute to, so I’ll leave you both to it and go to bed.” Tim dropped the towel in a laundry basket and started to walk away.

“Tim,” Dick reached out to catch his arm. "What do you mean, which one?"

Tim shrugged a shoulder. "Well the only insights I have about being buried alive are 'sit tight and wait for rescue and slow your heartrate so you're not using so much oxygen' so I don't really think I need to be here. Good night."

"When have you ever needed that? And if you did, you didn't try to dig yourself out?" Jason said skeptically. "That's your view? Stay in one spot and wait for help? Because trying that in Ethopia worked so well for me."

"I was under a concrete slab. There wasn't much that I could do."

Dick tugged Tim around to face him more fully. "And when was this exactly? I don't remember that case report."

"It was during AzBats; that's why you haven't read it. And I was fine. Steph eventually got me out."

They stared at each other. Dick looked away first. "I wish you'd had more support back then."

Tim smiled, one side of his face quirking up. "You had your own problems."

"Wait a minute. Back up. When was this?" Jason interrupted.

Dick looked back at Tim. Tim rolled his eyes up slightly. "When Tim here was a little baby Robin. Thirteen or so."

"Excuse you, I had had my fourteenth birthday by then. I had my licence."

"Oh I'm sorry, when he was fourteen years old. And far more grown up."

"That's right."

"You were buried alive under concrete?" Jason sounded incredulous.

"It happened. Why, did you think you were the only one? Dick once tunneled out of a grave sideways and almost fell off a cliff into the sea."

"I didn't think you knew about that time," Dick said, his voice soft.

Tim grinned. "You left some notes in your own computer system about it."

"Stalker."

"You like me that way."

"You've both also been buried alive?" Jason threw his hands in the air.

"Mmhmmm." Tim yawned and stretched, walking towards the stairs.

"As I was saying, it can get a bit tiring listening to you go on about it," Dick added, following him.

"I DIED!"

"Yes and you never ever let any of us forget it." Dick slung an arm over Tim's shoulder, then turned his head back to look at Jason. "Want some hot chocolate before bed?"

#fic snippets #Robin 3-5 and Nightwing 127-128 exist folks

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3

Tag List: @flame-343

#part 4 #danny phantom #dick grayson #dc #dp x dc #dp dc crossover #dcxdp #dcu #danny needs help #dick needs help #danny needs a hug #dick needs a hug #being a vigilante is hard #danny's a hypocrite #reverse adoption #work life balance #but it's being explained by a hypocrite 7 years younger than him #danny is going to make sure dick takes care of himself #is it really adoption if the kid shows up one day and just doesn't leave? #death is a legal barrier #danny's pov from part 1

[unreliablesnake]

Bliss (Ghost x f!reader)

Summary: Ghost gives in to his feelings, putting the fact he's above you in the ranks aside, and meets you after your latest mission.

Note: Part 2 of this, but it can be read as a stand-alone. / Here's the happy ending, I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warning: SMUT, MINORS DNI! Afab!reader. Fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v.

A little voice in the back of his mind kept telling Ghost to break down his walls. Let’s not worry about ranks, let’s not worry about consequences. Keep it a secret, make it some fun sneaking game just for the two of you.

To his disappointment, you kept your distance after that night. Not like he could blame you after he made it clear there could be nothing between you. While he stood next to Price in the briefing room, you looked at him every once in a while, your eyes showing the kind of sadness that made it hard for him to focus. He wished he could hug you, tell you he was sorry and he made a grave mistake by pushing you away.

Because as the days passed, he became more and more sure that he should give in to his needs. He wanted to be with you, but strictly outside of work. This way he could keep a little distance, he could sell himself the idea of breaking the rules.

Soap noticed that something had changed between the two of you, but he only dropped half a sentence before changing his mind. He knew better than to dig into his superior's private life. Whether he had asked you or not, Ghost didn't know. But for his own sanity, he assumed he did not.

The night before they could finally go home, he was scrolling your Instagram profile while lying on his bed, smiling to himself every time he saw a picture of you. It was rare, mostly found among the photos you were tagged in, but he was grateful for each and every one of them.

Suddenly he felt the mattress shift as someone sat down on its edge. He turned off the phone's screen and put it down next to his head to see who it was. When his eyes landed in you, he felt a wave of guilt passing through his body.

"Why are you torturing yourself?" you asked kindly as you reached out to place a hand on his chest.

His skin burned where you touched him, making it really hard to resist the urge to put his hands on top of yours. "What are you talking about?"

You let out a sigh at this. "You liked those photos by accident, I guess. Ghost, you said we can't be together, yet you keep looking at my photos. I'm gonna ask you again. Why are you torturing yourself?"

As he propped on his elbows, Ghost thought about the answer. "I don't want to be away from you," he admitted so honestly that he surprised himself. Well, based on the look on your face, there was no turning back now. "I know I said we can't be together, but I can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. Why are you like this, huh? Why are you so irresistible?" he asked, his question nothing more but a barely audible whisper.

With a smile, you leaned closer and slowly moved your hand up to his neck, your fingers brushing the hem of his balaclava. "Meet me after the mission," you told him quietly, your voice carrying the sort of authority that made it impossible to say no to you.

Ghost knew he was at your mercy, there was no way he could say no to that. He wasn't strong enough. So he took your hand in his and moved closer to give you a kiss through the fabric of his mask, savoring the feeling just in case this was the first and last time he could do it.

"Come on, I know you want to meet me," you tried kindly, your eyes locked with his as you waited for his response.

"Fuck, love, how could I say no to that?" the lieutenant breathed against your lips.

And he sent you a DM to discuss the details, making sure to keep the conversation online so the others wouldn't know about it. He didn't want conflict. He didn't want tension. The tension between the two of you was more than enough on his plate.

Three days later he was standing in front of your door, this time without his usual mask, his hand raised to knock. But he hesitated, he wasn't so sure anymore about this date. No, he could do it. He shouldn't be that–

"So you're just gonna stand here without letting me know you're here?" he heard your voice all of a sudden.

When he looked up, he noticed you standing in the now open door, your arm resting against the doorframe. You looked so happy and relaxed, the total opposite of what he usually saw during missions. With your trendy clothes and light makeup, he felt like kissing you on those cherry red lips.

"God, why are you like this?" he asked from no one in particular before acting on his instincts and pulling you into a kiss.

You giggled against his lips as you pulled him inside by the front of his shirt. "And you're really handsome. Have you been told that?" you inquired with a wide grin when he kicked in the door and pushed your back against it.

He gently bit on your lower lip, happy to hear a satisfied moan escape you. "We're not gonna leave for dinner, are we?"

You shook your head in response, letting him know that he was free to do whatever he wanted. And Ghost didn't need you to repeat yourself, he took the lead without hesitation, his hands moving to remove your clothes with precise and calculated moves.

Ghost's hands roamed your body as if he was trying to memorize every inch and every curve, turning it into a core memory along with everything you were about to do tonight. Because he was sure this would be a night to remember, he could feel that what you had there was truly magical.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled against your neck, enjoying the way you pushed your body against his upon hearing his request.

You gave him the directions to your bedroom, moving in perfect sync with him until the point he picked you up and gently laid you down. Ghost kneeled down next to the bed then wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his mouth.

"Prop on your elbows, sweetheart, I want to see your beautiful eyes," he ordered you sternly, making you do as he said while his tongue ran along your already wet cunt. "Look at you. I barely did anything and you're already having trouble focusing on me."

While Ghost laughed at this, you couldn't mirror his reaction. Your thoughts were somewhere else, somewhere much higher, but he didn't mind as long as your eyes were on him. He gently sucked on your clit, the mewl leaving your swollen lips sounding like music to his ears.

It wasn't a race, but he wanted to win, and winning meant drawing an orgasm out of you as fast as he could. He wanted to see how badly you wanted him, how your body reacted to his touch, and so when you tried pressing your thighs together only from feeling his tongue exploring your pussy, he pushed them wider apart, not giving you the chance to stop him.

Your eyes were hazy when he looked into them again, which drew a satisfied smirk on his shiny lips. He let go of one of your thighs and gently dipped a finger into your needy hole, slowly pumping as he returned to your puffy clit, sucking on it as if he was having his last dinner in this world.

You threw your head back in pleasure when he pushed another finger inside you, whispering his name over and over again, begging him to keep going, to make you come. "Simon, please, I can't," you whined between your moans, your hands twisting the sheets.

Ghost let out a deep growl as he put his other hand on your stomach to keep you in place. "Come on, love, come for me," he said, his eyes fixed on you, looking for the eye contact that could hopefully push you over the edge.

And the moment you looked into his amber eyes, your body began to shake, meaningless words leaving those perfect lips like a prayer as you finally reached your first high. He lapped up every drop of your flowing juices, just like he was a man starved, and he couldn't stop smiling while he watched your body slowly relax again.

He licked his fingers clean before pressing one more kiss on your cunt and getting rid of his own clothes. He signaled you to move on the bed, and you crawled up to the headboard, your hand reached out to invite him closer, legs wider apart to give him enough space. He gave you a sloppy kiss, simply loving the way his cock teased your entrance.

"Mind if I don't use a condom? I wanna feel you, baby," he asked between kisses.

You were probably still too lost in the sensation your orgasm left behind to think straight, so you agreed, and he was bad enough not to care about whether or not it was the right decision to make. He wanted it too badly to play nice this time. And if it came down to it, there was always a morning after pill to solve the problem.

So he pushed the tip in, teasing you just enough to earn your whispered pleas for more, begging him to finally fill your needy cunt. But for now he enjoyed this little game of his, only giving you the tip before pulling out, slowly turning you into a desperate mess.

"Si, please," you begged again as you reached up to grab his bicep.

"You want me to fuck you this badly?" he asked with a smirk, then leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

You returned it, hungrily devouring him while moving your hips in a futile attempt to get him to finally make a move. Ghost thought for a second, wondering if he should stop being cruel and just give you what you wanted so badly. Seeing the look in your beautiful eyes, he let out a sigh and decided not to tease you any longer.

At first he went slow, pushing his cock into your cunt slowly, giving you the time to get used to his size. Your tight pussy felt like heaven, and he didn't think he could last long if you didn't relax soon. "Love, try to relax," he told you quietly, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"It's hard to relax when you're filling me up so well," you whined before pulling his head down into another kiss.

He began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, feeling ecstatic from hearing your sweet mewls and moans, feeling you press your body close to his as you arched your back from pleasure. He felt your cunt clench around his cock, keeping him deep between your velvety walls, and sending him closer to the edge.

He sped up, going a little harder maybe, but not hard enough to hurt you. He paid attention to your reactions, making sure you enjoyed every second of your time together. When your breathing and the noises you made changed, he knew it wouldn't take much for you to have your next orgasm.

So he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb, earning a pathetic whine from you in return, but he didn't stop, it only made him more determined to give you what you deserved. "Come on, baby, I know you're close," he told you before kissing your neck.

And soon enough you finally came around his cock, causing him to reach his high as well not long after that, but he was still focused, he still wanted to fuck you through it. You were overstimulated, completely lost in the sensation, and he simply couldn't get enough of this sight.

He raised his body to kneel between your legs after he pulled out, pushing his leaking cum back into your cunt as he proudly smiled to himself. There you were, a broken mess despite him not even going that hard on you. This was intimate and caring sex, not the rough stress relief he usually experienced with other women.

You were special, the light in his dark life, and the more he thought about it, the more sure he became that he didn't want to let you go. He crawled back next to you, pulling you against his chest before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Mind if I stick around for a few more days? I could use more of your perfect little pussy," he suggested cheekily.

You let out a quiet chuckle before giving him a soft kiss. "I wanted to ask you to stay, so we were thinking the same thing."

Ghost wasn't used to this, but he loved this feeling. He loved how calm and happy he was around you, how easily you could make him forget about his crappy life.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #smut

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Dirty Thirty

Prompt Day 24: Birthday | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Childhood Trauma, Language | Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Steve & Gareth, Eddie Turns 30, Birthday Blues, Hurt/Comfort, Steve POV

"It's his dirty thirty," Steve says, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear, "We have to do something."

Gareth laughs through the receiver.

"Well, you can dig your own grave if you want to, but I'm definitely not crawling in it with you," Gareth says, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. 

Eddie usually loves his birthday, but several weeks ago the decree came down that he wanted nothing for his birthday. He wanted to pretend it didn't exist. But is Steve really supposed to do nothing to celebrate Eddie's thirtieth birthday? That's a milestone. 

Eddie almost didn't make it to twenty-one. But he did, and that birthday party was so fucking wild that Steve still doesn't remember everything that happened. All he knows is he woke up with a tattoo on his arm that looks suspiciously like Eddie's handiwork, though Eddie still denies it. 

So, Eddie turning thirty should be celebrated. Maybe not a kegger that ends in beloved, if unplanned, tattoos. But still. Something special. 

"What if-" 

"No," Gareth says, "whatever you're thinking. No." 

Steve sighs, in disappointment. 

Gareth's right, is the thing. Eddie isn't one to say he doesn't want something, but secretly does. He said he didn't want anything, so he really doesn't want anything this year.

Steve knows Eddie isn't the type to dwell on getting older. He usually loves that shit. Loves that he lived, and has kept on living. So, this is out of character, and hard for Steve to swallow.

"I know," Steve finally says, "you're right." 

"What was that? Say it again, a little louder. You know my hearing is shitty from years of drumming."

Steve laughs, "Gareth, you're right. Even if I loathe to admit it." 

Gareth cackles, but then turns serious.

"I know you mean well, Steve-o. But let's just do what he wants, okay? Not what we want. Of course, I'll want you to throw me a huge dirty thirty. Strippers coming out of the cake, the whole nine yards," Gareth says. 

"I think your wife might have something to say about that," Steve says, dryly. 

Gareth just laughs. 

Steve finally relents, "Okay, I won't plan anything." 

"Smart man," Gareth says, and hangs up the phone. 

Gareth is Eddie's best friend, but maybe Steve should float this situation past Jeff and Goodie, too. Just in case. Get a second and third opinion. Gareth isn't the be-all and end-all. 

So, Steve gives them each a call.

Jeff is kind, but firm, with his hard no vote. 

Goodie is a hard yes, but it's a trap, and Steve knows better than to fall for it. 

It doesn't take long for Gareth to call back. 

"Steven." 

Steve hangs his head, "I just had to ask them, okay?!" 

"No means no!" Gareth shouts.

"I won't do shit, I promise," Steve says. 

"You better not," Gareth says, and hangs up on him for the second time today.

And Steve doesn't plan anything. 

Eddie turns thirty, and nothing happens. Steve hates it. 

He takes Eddie out to eat, but Eddie wouldn't even pick somewhere nice. No, he just wanted to grab food from the taco truck that always sits in the parking lot of the hardware store.

So, they eat messy tacos, standing up, outdoors, in January, while people carry lumber to their waiting trucks. 

Eddie never mentions it's his birthday, and nobody else does either. 

It's weird. 

That night they lay in bed, and Steve feels like he's missed something big here. It's a gnawing sensation in his gut, and he hates it. Eddie doesn't even seem in the mood for birthday sex. Not that he needs a reason to get Steve into bed, but he usually likes to pretend it's a special gift, just for him, and Steve always goes along with it. 

Not tonight.

Tonight, they lay in the quiet, and Steve feels like this whole day, this whole week, has been off. He's running through every damn thing that could have led up to this, when Eddie finally speaks.

"I'm older than my mom ever was, now," Eddie says in the dark. 

And there it is. The piece Steve was missing. Of course. 

Steve rolls onto his side, wrapping his arm around Eddie. Hugging him tight. 

"I'm sorry, honey, that must be weird." 

Eddie nods, and then tucks his head into his own chest, and cries. Steve can feel his back shaking with the movement.

Steve presses his face into Eddie's back, holding him. There's no fixing this kind of hurt. Steve knows. Eddie has to feel it. But Steve holds him tight, and Eddie lets him, leaning back against Steve's chest, seeking comfort. They've been that comfort for each other for years, a decade now, even if Steve gets it wrong sometimes. Still can't read Eddie's mind, as much as he'd like to, especially in times like these.

"I'm sorry I've been so weird," Eddie says, his voice thick.

"I love you," Steve tells him.

Eddie suddenly rolls in his arms, pressing his face into Steve's neck. Steve just hugs him tighter, rubbing his back. 

"I feel like I'm a little kid again, crying like this," Eddie says, and Steve presses his face into Eddie's hair.

"It's okay to cry," Steve tells him, because it is. It took Steve a long time to realize that, because crying wasn't okay growing up in the Harrington household. 

But as an adult? If he wants to cry. He'll fucking cry. Steve finds he always feels better after he's let it all out. 

"I know," Eddie says, "but it hurts today like it's fresh, and not decades old. I hate it."

Steve rubs his back, then pulls back, "Put on your shoes."

"What? Why?" Eddie asks, and Steve touches his arm, urging him on.

Twenty minutes later, Wayne is holding Eddie as he cries, and this is definitely what Eddie needed. Steve's absolutely sure. 

Eddie can't have his mom, but he still has Wayne. His dad, in all the ways that matter.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #birthday #hurt/comfort #steddie #steddie ficlet #birthday blues #steve harrington #gareth (stranger things) #eddie munson #wayne munson #gareth & steve harrington #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

[frogchiro]

Hello um, I was the anon who told you that I thought Makarov and Graves were the same person when I was still new

Well I don't have the game nor I have the gadgets to play it to know the lore and I have some questions...

• What's the difference between Makarov and Graves? And who really is the one who killed Soap? (Deeply sorry if anyone seeing this got spoiled)

• Who's Valeria? I've been seeing edits of her and I know she has something to do with bombs in the lore but that's all I know (unfortunately)

• Are KorTac and TF141 enemies or they completely do not know each other at all

• What's the general idea or the summary of the lore of Modern Warfare 2?

It's fine if you can't answer all or some of it, I'm not really trying to dig into the lore but I need some clearance up because sometimes when I read fanfictions about COD, I read stuff that's part of the lore and I have 0 context about it, also I want to show genuine interest in COD because I don't want people to think that I'm just here for the hot characters (I am) Because I don't wanna be *that* type of girl that the COD fandom hates *cough* annoying girl who says she's a fan of COD but has 0 knowledge about the lore *cough*

Again ot's fine if you can't answer some or all of it, just really curious here

-✰anon (can I claim it? :3)

Please don't worry about it and I will happily amswer these tothe best of my knowledge♡

WARNING: MAJOR spoliers under the cut, if someone doesn't want to get spoiled then do not proceed!

I really hope I explained it as well as I can♡

1. Makarov is the main antagonist of Call Of Duty Modern Warfare both the original version and the now reboot although in MW1 he didn't appear at all and wasn't even mentioned, and in MW2 he was a background antagonist. He's the leader of the the Ultranationalist Konni PMC group who want to 'restore glory to Russia' and basically control the world. It was Makarov who killed Soap in both the og series and in the reboot although in the original it was indirectly by an explosion he caused and in the reboot he shot him in the head.

Philip Graves served as an secondary antagonist in MW2. He's the commander and founder of the PMC group Shadow Company and he was working closely with General Shepherd and then 141 during the events of capturing Hassan in Al-Mazrah. He betrayed the 141 on orders from Shepherd and then supposedly died, killed by Soap and Rodolfo Parra from the Mexican Special Forces in the epilogue of MW2 but then in one of the Season Episodes(?) it turned out he didn't die and is still working with Shepherd now to capture Makarov.

He didn't have a role as big in MW3 as he had in MW2 but he returned to work alongside 141 again before he was put on trial together with Shepherd but, as it turned out, he betrayed the general to save his own ass and denied everything he did in MW2.

2) Valeria Garza also known as 'El Sin Hombre' "The Nameless" is a drug lord/cartel lord who was an antagonist in MW2 when 141 worked with the Mexican Special Forces while in Mexico where they hunted for Hassan. She was the one who ruled in Las Almas with an iron fist and helped Hassan to escape from the military/transport the missiles. She was captured and put in prison but in Season 2 (I think) it showed her escaping the prison and for now her whereabouts aren't known.

3) KorTac and 141 as far as in game campaign canon goes they never met or worked together. I don't really know if this is really canon or fanon but as far as we know they're opposite fractions and are enemies.

4) MW2 has quite many storylines, the general main one is that Task Force 141 chase and have to capture Major Hassan Zyani, an Al-Quatala member who wanted revenge for General Ghorbrani, another terrorist who was killed in the prologue. During an attack on a base where Hassan supposedly was, Ghost and Soap discovered american ballistic missiles that had absolutely no business being there.

From there on it was a chase after Hassan and the missiles and how did Al-Quatala get them. It turned out that it was General Shepherd who ordered the missiles moved in an 'under the radar' operation with the help of Shadow Company because he wanted to send them to the Middle East (supposedly to aid Farah Karim) but the convoy who was responsible for moving the missiles was attacked and killed by Konni soldiers who then took them over and ultimately sold to Al-Quatala. Shepherd and Graves covered the incident and because the 141 + Laswell and Mexican Special Forces were close to finding them out, Shepherd ordered Graves to kill them.

Graves was declared K.I.A after Soap and Rudy exploded the tank he was supposedly in and Valeria later admitted that the last missile out of three was heading with Hassan for Chicago where then they moved and ultimately killed Hassan. In an ending scene it was revealed that now 141 are chasing after Vladimir Makarov therefore kickstarting the events of MW3.

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mwii #☆anon

[shallowseeker]

Okay, Sam has a point in 12x03 The Foundry, but I’m so kicking him in the teeth for how haughty and contrary he’s being during this whole conversation.

Yes, Sam. I’m pretty sure Dean knows your mom isn’t a “thing.” Jesus H. You blockheaded brat.

Dean, true to his own emotional interiority, wants to give Mary time and space. On the other hand, Sam is logically sound in his analysis—that she’s probably burying herself in hunting to mop up her grief.

THE BOYS ARE AT THE GRAVEYARD DIGGING UP THE GRAVES OF ALL THE CHILDREN AND SALTING AND BURNING THEIR BONES.

Sam: Grim work.

Dean: Yeah.

Sam: You know, I’m worried about Mom.

Dean: Why?

Sam: You're not?

Dean: She's back. I mean, yeah, she's still working out the kinks. We're all still working out the kinks. But, I mean, can't we, for once, just not turn everything into a problem? You know, can we, for once, just have ONE good thing?

Sam: Mom's not a thing.

Dean: …okay.

Sam: Look, I'm happy, too, Dean. I am. I'm overjoyed. But...there's something about her. I mean, something's going on with her.

Dean: Yeah, she's adjusting.

Sam: No, she's struggling. I mean, she's trying to bury herself in hunting to avoid dealing.

Dean: And how do you know that?

Sam: Years of personal experience. I don’t know man. Uh...like mother, like sons.

DEAN LOOKS PISSED AT THE CONVERSATION, BUT DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING MORE.

Once more, Sam assumes that everyone else’s coping strategies should look exactly like his own, or else it’s proof they’re not coping at all. (I mean, he could be right. But the problem is that he assumes he is. He barely knows this woman!)

To his credit, Dean shows a lot of patience in this conversation. Sam may have a point, but he’s being an ass. (“Mom’s not a thing.” Really, Sam? You’re treating your brother like he’s stupid.)

Even Cas, with his, “What has she said to you / what have you said to her?” was a more nuts-and-bolts, actionable kind of helpful.

///

Here with Sam, Dean shuts down and disengages from the conversation, and it’s not solely because he’s in moderate denial about Mary’s unhappiness. Part of it is down to Sam’s conversational style.

(Sammmmmmyyyyyyy~eeeeeh I am strangling you with my bare hands…)

///

But yeah. Bless him. Sammy overthinks. Dean ruminates but doesn’t seem to get so far in his own head that he force-fits his perspective onto everyone else.

This is another area where, ironically, Dean and Cas have better emotional intuition than Sam (even if they don’t always know it).

///////////////

(Text Attributions// Supernatural scripts here via @spnscripthunt. Transcripts are located here via SPNWiki. Visit their Tumblr to donate.)

#spn the foundry #tfw + coping #tfw + grief #sam & dean & mary #spn 12x03 #sam overthinks #sam + neurodivergent

[bananadrinkxxx]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞 (1)

[Aemond Targaryen x female Lucerys Velaryon • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: sex content, fights, harassment, angst, smut, domination, violence, targcest (uncle/niece)]

Only for 18+

[description: Boarding School - Modern Setting. Lucerya avoided her uncle for years but Aemond remembers and he is on his mission to make her life a living hell.]

Masterlist for all available parts (click here)

Aemond Targaryen was a fucking psychopath.

An absolute, without any restrictions, full-time psychopath. A psychopath without a good fibre in him. 

She couldn't believe her mother was doing this to her.

Didn't she feel any love for her only daughter? Not a little bit.

Hadn't it occurred to her for a second, just a second, that it might be dangerous to let her sixteen-year-old daughter with her eighteen-year-old uncle to boarding school in the middle of nowhere?

Normally maybe not a big problem, but if you consider that she had removed an eyelet from her uncle's eye socket in her youthful carelessness, the whole thing might not be so safe anymore.

"You are dramatic," her brother Jace had replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure he'll have forgotten it long time ago."

Sure, because you forget the loss of an eye just like that.

Did he think she was an idiot or was he the idiot?

She was dead. She was as good as dead.

Her body would be found in some container, in a sack, in a dustbin, or in a grave that Aemond Targaryen would dig especially for her and a headstone which said, "Here lies Lucerya Targaryen, that girl who once had two eyes", because she was quite sure that her uncle would remove her eyes before he would murder her.

"Maybe I should post an Instagram Story," Lucy mused aloud. "According to the motto, she warned us all and nobody believed her. Then my story of pain will be aired on Netflix and Mum could buy her own island with Uncle Daemon."  

"Or you could buy some tranquilizers," Jace suggested. 

"Aegon is the much bigger problem," Jace started. "Balea informed me that he is stupid and has to repeat the year and now I have the fabulous honor of being in the same class as not only with Aemond but him as well. Sister, that's a problem."  

Yeah of course, a murderous uncle who was after your life wasn't a real problem.

Lucy didn't really feel sorry. Jace was a boy and, if she was to believe his unqualified statements, he was popular. He had a lot of friends and Aegon wasn't known for being very brave.  

She, on the other hand, was new at this school, weak as fast because life made her an girl and she didn't know a living soul in this goddamn dump.

And like she said, Aemond Targaryen was a psychopath.

King's Landing. What idiot gave a school such a name?

“Do you really think he is still angry about it? It happened a long time ago,” Rhaena asked.

“Wouldn’t you still be angry about it?” Balea asked back and Rhaena made a face. Of course she would be angry. Every normal thinking person would be angry, and Lucy couldn't even blame him. It was an eye, after all.

She regretted what she had done it, but it happened and there was nothing she could have done to undo it.

Aemond Targaryen had lost an eye and it was her fault.

After their headmaster, Corlys Velaryon, who was also her paternal grandfather, made some boring speech to the whole school, dinner was served in the great hall.

The school was housed in an old castle and while Lucerya found the name of the school more than silly, she had to admit that she liked the accommodation.

She had been looking for Aemond, but it was only her uncle Aegon who had let his gaze wander over her body and winked at her.

Disgusted, she had turned around and after dinner she had been taken to her room with her cousins (and recently stepsisters too, she didn't want to talk about how that had happened).

The girls lived separately from the boys and at some point this boarding school reminded her of Hogwarts. There were common rooms, shared showers, shared rooms and she had to share her room with three other girls. This school probably didn't think much of privacy.

"I'm going to take a shower," Lucy informed her cousins and Helaena. Helaena was her aunt, a pure but weird soul.

Probably the only reason why she was happy to have to go to this school.

Baela and Rhaena played with their phones while Helaena looked up from her book and smiled at her.

"Beware the beasts beneath the boards."

OK, thank you.  

Lucy grabbed some new clothes, towels, shampoo and wearily made her way to the shared showers.

It was already a little after nine and bedtime was at half past nine, so she had to hurry.

She felt like she had to run half a marathon before she got to the showers.

The warm water was a real blessing on her skin and for a brief moment she forgot where she was.

She closed her eyes, relaxed and enjoyed the warm patter of the water on her body.

She turned off the water to soap up and sniffed her shower gel, which smelled of lemon cake.

"Oh my god, right there, oh fuck."

Lucy stopped in shock.

That was a joke.  

That had to be a fucking joke.

"Harder," the girl's voice said while making sounds Lucy only knew from some porn videos.

Not that she's ever seen any. She was a good girl.  

There were only two options for Lucy now.

Either she continued to shower and pretend nothing happened, or she would walk out of her shower and tell these two depraved souls that this was no place for their sins.  

Or she would stick to the third option, pretending not to exist and waiting for the two strangers to piss off after having the enlightenment that this place was hardly a suitable place for their physical needs.

"You're so tight," a male voice moaned and Lucy's brow furrowed. She knew that voice from somewhere.

While the girl was screaming so loud that Lucy was pretty sure half the school had found out about therr sexual act in the WOMEN'S SHOWER, Lucy stood in her shower cubicle with shampoo in her hair and freezing, wishing that she could disappear from this world.

After what felt like an hour of waiting for the two to finally finish, her wish finally came true and the girl climaxed with loud moans.

She heard a few more skin slaps until the boy finally came too. At least he had stamina, she had to give him that.

"No one has ever satisfied me like that," the girl informed him, giggling. Oh my god.

She heard it rustling and after the noise of few kisses, the door was opened and silence fell in the room.

Lucy let out a relieved breath.

The whole time she had tried to breathe as quietly as possible, which wasn't easy at all.

No one would believe her, not even she herself believed what had just happened to her.

Dissolved, she turned around and was about to turn the water back on when suddenly her shower stall was ripped open.

Screaming, she turned around and stared stunned into the face of Aemond Targaryen, who let his eye travel over her naked body.

His silvery blonde hair was loose and he was wearing a black shirt and black sweatpants.

It wasn't fair that he was wearing so much and she was wearing so little. Which meant literally nothing.

"Lucerya," Aemond breathed softly.

Lucy tried to cover her body with her hands as best she could.

"Hello Aemond, what's up?," what the fuck, "I was just showering right, so could you-"

"Were you listening?" He wasn't serious, right?  

"No? I took a shower and-"

wtf, was that him?  

She had just listened to her uncle having sex?

"I got here first. You came and-"

"Hmm, I really came," Aemond interrupted, and she wanted to kill herself. Just kill herself. Well, maybe her uncle would do that for her.  

"Long time no see," Aemond said, letting his gaze travel over her body again.

"The last time I saw you you were six years old playing with kitchen knives."

"Ah, right, good of you to bring up the subject," Lucy interjected.

Change the topic, change it. She wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

He raised a eyebrow.

 "I wanted to apologize for this unfortunate accident."

Aemond frowned and raised both eyebrows. An eye patch covered his shattered eye and a scar ran across the left side of his face.

Kind of sexy. If he wouldn't be her uncle and if it wouldn't have been her who caused his injury.

A smile developed on his lips before he walked towards her. Needless to say, it was not a very trustworthy smile. It was that serial killer smile before they took their victims apart.

She totally felt safe here.

Startled, Lucy took a few steps back and was pinned against the cold shower wall by Aemond.

He pressed his body against hers and grabbed her chin with his hand. He gently pressed her cheeks together, making her mouth part slightly.  

"Unfortunate accident?" he repeated her words.

When he said it like that, it sounded totally stupid.  

"You broke Jace's nose and you didn't stop," Lucy justified herself. Her wet brown hair hung in curls over her face. "I had to do something. You said you will kill him."

"You mean you took my eye for giving your brother some good deserving slaps?"

He was ironic. That never boded well for psychopaths. 

"Look, I guess we see things a little differently but I'm sorry, okay?"

Aemond stared at her for a moment before starting to laugh.

"You're sorry? You took my eye and after more than ten years the only thing you say to me is that you're fucking sorry?"  

"Okay, wait, yes, it-" Aemond squeezed her cheeks tighter.

"You're not sorry, niece. You liked the feeling of superiority, and do you want me to confess something?"

D rather not.  

The fingers of his other hand slid over her face, down her neck, down her arm, the base of her breasts.

His hand was just everywhere and nowhere. 

"I like it too. I could do anything to you now, sweet little niece and you wouldn't be able to fight back. I could do whatever I want and there's nothing you could do about it. You would be completely at my mercy."  

Lucy's heart was pounding violently against her chest.

A tingling developed between her legs. What the hell?

She was sick. She couldn't believe his words aroused her. Not Aemond was the psychopath (ok, he still was) but her.

"How lucky for you that all I want is your pretty eye, niece," he whispered and his hot breath hit her lips.

With these words he released her and turned around.  

He left her naked, wet and aroused.  

Lucy was lost.

Lucy had no idea how to process last night's experience with Aemond.

He had left her in the shower in complete disarray and hadn't even looked at her this morning.

He had played with her and she had let herself be played with.

And as expected, he wanted her eye.

She would call her mother and make it clear to her that if she didn't rescue her from this hell, she would soon have no daughter.

"Next Monday we have our first school trip. As we want to welcome the new students to our school, the students who have been to this school for years will show the new students around," Mrs. Velaryon, the headmaster's wife and Lucy's grandmother looked down the rows.

She had brought several generations together.

"The new students, after I call their names, please step forward and pull a name from this bowl," she pointed to a glass bowl with white slips of paper, "and read their partner's name loud and clear. Each student has then been assigned a student who'll take care of them for the next few weeks."

What a cute idea.  

Lucy wanted to throw up. She turned to Jacaerys, who winked at her. He knew his grandmother would do that shit.

If she was lucky, she would get her brother or cousins.

When her name was called, Lucy walked forward and gave her grandmother a wry smile.

She reached into the bowl and prayed to the gods that she would pull anyone but the one whose touch could still be felt on her skin.

Lucy opened the note and wanted to kill herself.

Surprising how many times she wanted to kill herself that week.

That had to be a joke. It could only be a joke.  

She stared at the note in disbelief.  

"Who did you get, Lucerya?" her grandmother asked.

Lucy looked up in shock at Aemond Targaryen, who gave her a satisfied smile. Apparently he was already imagining a hundred types of torture in which he could torment her undisturbed. 

Killing seemed the only option now.

Self-harm was no solution but sometimes when it was about Aemond Targaryen and his lost eye, maybe it was.

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #dark aemond smut #dark aemond angst #dark aemond #dark aemond targaryen #modern aemond angst #aemond targeryen angst #aemond angst #hotd angst #ewan mitchell smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #aemond smut #aemond x wife #aemond x wife reader #aemond fanfic #hotd fandom #house of the dragon fandom #ewan mitchell fandom #aemond fandom #hotd fic #hotd fanfiction #aemond fic #rhaenyra targaryen #game of thrones

[reallyromealone]

Hello! Can I make request for TR where the reader is Chifuyu's younger brother (like by a year or so?) and like Chifuyu invites his Toman friend over, who are surprised he has a brother. And the reader being a sweetheart offers to cook dinner for the group, then while their eating Tomam just kinda flirting with reader (especially Sanzu or Mikey?) with Chifuyu just standing there mildly offened by it. Anyway have a good day/night :>

Oh you guys play me like a fiddle huh

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Chifuyu offered Toman to eat at his place he wasn't expecting them all to be incredibly down bad for his brother-- specifically Sanzu and Mikey.

Sanzu who was as lovable as a rabid dog was actually in the kitchen helping (name) as Mikey sat at the counter being the "supervisor"to it all. "God baby boy is wifey material" smiley said watching (name) work in the kitchen and show Sanzu now to chop (ingredient) with a gentle smile as Mikey demanded his attention back to him.

Chifuyu just sighed as he watched everyone watch (name).

When (name) came in with the food he was practically bombarded with compliments and flirts, sat between Mikey and Sanzu yet again as Mikey practically demanded (name) feed him "hey (name), you seeing anyone?" Draken asked bluntly as he eyed (name) hungrily and everyone stared at him expectantly especially the two beside him "not at the moment no" (name) said softly with a smile as he ate his own meal, Mikey stealing a bite and the room halted.

An indirect kiss.

"Mmm delicious (name)! I could have your food everyday!"

"Thank you--- oh Sanzu you have-- lemme just" and with that (name) gently cleaned up Sanzus face, a domestic air around the two that had everyone glaring at him and to dig his own grave "thank you my queen" he said seriously causing (name) to blush slightly.

"U-uh no problem?"

If there was one thing the Sanos were known for besides gangs it was none of them could flirt to save their lives "I hate spicy foods" Mikey said simply before looking (name) dead in the eyes before continuing "you have cool eyes"

"Oh? Thank you, you do too"

Yeah (name) definitely didn't pick up on the flirting from Mikey and no one could blame him because what the fuck was that?

During dessert (name) was asked questions by everyone and he tried to answer them the best he could but some...

"What do you wanna do?"

"Oh! I'm working towards (profession)!"

"You wanna get married one day?"

"Maybe, I'm really letting the chips fall where they may"

"You a virgin?"

"Ye--wait what?!"

"That's enough questions!" Chifuyu said suddenly "hey (name), you had that thing you were working on yeah?"

"He can do that later, right (name)?" Mikey said with a smirk while snaking his arms around the others waist while Sanzu played with his hair, the two silently agreeing to let the other touch the pretty matsuno "uhh... I'm gonna get more drinks!" (Name) said as he abruptly stood up and darted to the kitchen.

"So cute" Mitsuya said with a half smirk as they watched him leave "so Chifuyu, why didn't you tell us you had a hottie brother?" Baji said almost accusatory as Chifuyu sighed "please don't say that about my brother..."

No one saw Sanzu sneak off to the kitchen to see (name) red faced and preparing a tray of drinks "you need anything?" He said into (name)s ear causing the other to jolt and turn to look at him, their faces a hairline away from one another "u-uh I'm fine! You're a guest you shouldn't have to worry" (name) said as Sanzu gently took his hand and kissed his pulse point through his mask with a wink "let me handle it" he practically commanded the other who was to stunned "oi! Don't hog (name)!" Mikey said venomously as he entered the kitchen and pulled him close "we made a deal!"

"My apologies my king" Sanzu said seriously as Mikey pulled (name) back into the room and practically cuddled him and poor (name) just wanted to not be here.

"So (name), you got any plans this weekend?" Smiley asked smoothly with his charming smile and (name) just shook his head "you wanna take a ride with me this weekend then?" Smiley said with some more... explicit subtext but sadly that just sparked a war on who was going out with (name) that weekend.

By the end of the night (name) had everyones emails and a few managed to steal a kiss from him.

"Fuyu...." (Name) said to his brother who sighed "your friends are weird" (name) said seriously before going to his room and passing out.

#tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #chifuyu x male reader #chifuyu x reader #toman x male reader #toman x reader

[siriusleee]

I'm singing this for the father, of that young daughter, whose heart I broke. 

read more of my work here read all of the drabbles in this series here on ao3 a drabblistic series. simon riley x reader

The apartment is exactly the same as he remembers it; she leaves him at the door to disappear into her bedroom, wet hair dripping down her back. Simon finds himself drawn to the pictures on the wall, finger tracing the outlines of their younger selves. On the table below is a stack of newspaper articles - he flips through them, trying to find something to do with his hands and still how they shake.

 Her father's name catches his eye. Each one is about his death, about how their little section of Manchester will be emptier without him, without his restaurant that fed what must have been half the city. At the bottom is her father's obituary. He doesn't get a chance to read it before she interrupts his snooping.

"He died last year - a heart attack." "You didn't stay to work at the restaurant?" 

Simon refuses to look at her, his fingers tracing the edges of the newspaper where she clipped the article. 

She scoffs, and he hears her feet soft against the carpet. The smell of her fills him as she comes beside him, a damp towel in her hands. 

"I can't even run the kettle correctly. Dad knew that - he sold the restaurant to the city to turn it into some childcare center or something before he died. He had been sick for a while."

"I'm -" She cuts Simon off before he can even think about what to say.

"It broke his heart you know - when they published that obituary about you. I didn't know if you were really dead or not, but I couldn't tell him that. He was so upset that the military wouldn't have a real funeral for you. He paid for an empty grave and a headstone for you. I buried him in the next plot over."

Simon wants to die right then - to disappear and take the pain he's caused away with him. She turns away from him, throwing the towel over the chair. 

He drops the newspaper clippings softly back into place and turns towards her. She's staring at him, arms crossed over her chest. She's so beautiful he's pinned in place by her. He wants her to scream at him, to throw something at him, to turn back some of the pain he's caused her back onto him. 

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are." 

She fiddles with the hem of her shirt, sinking down to sit on the arm of her couch. 

"I'm sorry too."

His feet move of his own accord, carrying him halfway across the room before he catches himself. 

"What do you have to be sorry for?" His voice is thick and rough; for the first time in ages, his mask is suffocating him.

She can't look him in the eye as she speaks. 

"I should have never told you that I never wanted to see you again. We grew up together Si; I don't ever remember being away from you. I know how it was for you - how your job is for you. I just -" she breaks off, picking at a spot on the couch, "I was so wrapped up in you I didn't have anything for myself. I didn't know what to do without you and it was killing me."

Simon reaches out towards her, and she doesn't stop when his hand lands on her knees. Her skin is like fire beneath his; he has to remind himself not to dig his nails into her skin.

His heart is stuck in his chest as she reaches forward to wrap one hand around his wrist. 

She slides his hand off of her knee and stands so close Simon can feel the heat rolling off her body. 

"It's late Simon; we should get to bed. I work tomorrow."

"I can leave if you want me to."

"You can stay if you want."

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #my fics #ghost cod x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod x you #ghost

[thelastofharrington]

the hard with the soft

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A/N: hello! this is my first joel fic that i've ever written! i'm really excited about it and made this whole blog just to post it lol. there is plenty of smut in this so mdni! let me know what you think :)

summary: Falling in love with Joel Miller was something that happened to you little by little, and then all at once. To say the chemistry was immediate would be a complete lie. At first, you couldn’t even tell if he wanted you around, let alone wanted you in his bed. No, when he rescued you that day from one of Bill’s well-laid traps, you were certain he would never see you as anything other than a nuisance. A pest he had to take care of. 

Oh how wrong you were.

tags: praise, porn with context, slow burn, mutual pining, joel is soft on the inside, reader is down bad fr, non-canonical, rip bill and frank, takes place a year/two years after the show starts, love in the midst of an apocalypse is beautiful y'all

word count: 7k

i hope you enjoy!!!

Part 1: The Stumble, 1 Year Ago

You were hungry. Starving, even. You had been left behind from your group of outcasts three days ago (or had it been four? You were too exhausted to keep track of the time) when you twisted your ankle and couldn’t keep up the pace. You weren’t overly friendly with your most recent pack of ragtag survivors, mostly seeing them and each other as a mere means of survival rather than company. You hadn’t known friendliness or love from your packs since your parents got bit five years ago. Your parents couldn’t have known that three years after they brought you into the world it would fall apart, nor did they know they would both die protecting you from that same world they blindly brought you into. It’s been hard, but you’ve made it through and it actually was your birthday this week, the big 24. What a way to celebrate – being abandoned by the only thing keeping you safe and becoming walking bait for any clickers nearby. But still, you had fairly good spirits all things considered. Until you fell into an eight foot hole. 

It was in this hole that you realized a couple of things:

You’ve stumbled upon a domesticated piece of land. Someone somewhere near had the time, safety, and resources to dig an eight foot hole. 

If your ankle wasn’t sprained before, it was definitely sprained now considering how you landed on it.

You might have just fallen into your grave.

It was a series of progressively worse realizations, to say the least. 

Time had already felt like a concept out of your grasp for the last 20 years, but now there was truly no way of knowing if you had been down there 20 minutes or two hours when a shadow was cast on you. A man-shaped shadow. A man-shaped shadow with a gun. 

The gun was pointed right at you, the sun casting a halo around this giant man’s head. He towered over you as he held his stance firm and still. No one said anything as you both stood, unwavering. 

“I come in peace?” You finally choke out, unsure of what you could possibly say to save your own life right now. 

He doesn’t move, just croaks “How’d you find this place?” You notice the fragments of a Southern accent, nearly lost to the wear and tear of an apocalypse. 

You clear your throat and try to muster up the courage to speak with conviction. “My group abandoned me when I twisted my ankle early this week. I’ve just been aimlessly wandering.” You pause, unsure of if the next sentence will be your last, “This ankle of mine really hurts by the way. Your hole here isn’t really helping, considering I landed on it.”

You see him move his head out from behind the gun and look down at you slightly, then he moves back to position. “Are you armed?”

“No, I’m barely legged.”

He does not laugh.

“That’s something we call a joke, you know, since I can barely walk and all.”

His weight shifts again and he finally puts down the gun. “I’m going to help you out, but after that you better see yourself out of here. I don’t want any more of this and I don’t want any of your friends wandering this way either.”

“I don’t have any friends. I don’t have any family. I’m just me.”

He scoffs, “Sure, kid.”

“I’m also not a kid. I’m 24 years old and I’m hungry and my ankle hurts and why do you even have this hole anyway?!” You notice yourself turning hysterical but you don’t even care. You’re unarmed and you’re hungry and you’re all alone for the first time in a very, very long time. This man holds all of the power to help you and you’re not going to give up until he does. 

He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does it’s in the form of him reaching down into his utility belt and pulling out a rope, and throwing you the other end. “You get one meal.”

You didn’t even know a meal was on the table, so you hobbled your way behind him as fast as you could. You ended up at a white, well-kept house behind an industrial strength gate. “How the hell did you find this place?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making you worried that you said the wrong thing somehow. Finally, when you’ve reached the front door, he huffs “It belonged to a friend.”

================================================

Part 2: The Fall, 6 Months Ago

That one meal turned into two days which turned into a week which turned a month which turned into six. You owe most of your thanks to Joel’s 14-year-old companion (contraband?), Ellie. She was instrumental in convincing Joel to allow for you to stay. If it weren’t for her, the first dinner would have easily been your last. But she was so taken with you and excited to have another girl let alone someone under 30 hanging out with them. Not that she didn’t adore Joel, or him her in his own little ways. But you were just such a breath of fresh air to her that Joel couldn’t help but allow for you to stay. 

Your role in their little group wasn’t quite clear. Joel did all of the hunting and patrolling necessary to keep this little slice of paradise exactly that, paradise. Ellie’s only job was to stay safe, and you decided to pick up the slack wherever you could. Dishes, clothing repairs, cooking dinner. Ellie didn’t need a nanny by any means, but you basically became a live-in housewife. With none of the perks, despite your daydreaming.

The last six months had been tumultuous for you to say the least. The presence of Joel constantly by your side made a lot of things very difficult. Like focusing, or keeping the weakness out of your knees, or the heat out of your dreams. He was hot, there was no denying it. If he hadn’t been waving a gun in your face the moment you met, it probably wouldn’t have taken you until the end of your first dinner to realize this. But not only was he hot, he was stoic. He was still and firm, a guiding light in this uncertain world you and Ellie both came of age in. He had a cold exterior, but judging by the way he treated Ellie, and eventually you, you knew there was some warmth bubbling beneath the surface. You knew he carried immeasurable hurt on his back, Ellie had told you about his daughter, Tess, Bill and Frank, and that was only the things Ellie knew. Who knew what was in the even further past of this sturdy man. The big, beautiful, brooding man who took care of you and Ellie despite his best instincts. 

You had only very recently gotten over your sprained ankle, taking a full 12 weeks to heal from the severe sprain. This was another saving grace for you in the beginning. Joel liked to pretend that he was heartless, but he still didn’t have the heart to send you on your merry way with only ¼ of your appendages working to their full capacity. He tried to kick you out after your first dinner despite Ellie’s whining, only to be able to only stomach three of your hobbling paces out the door. 

“Oh for God’s sake get back in here why don’t ‘ya,” You remember him sighing.

He took such good care of your ankle, at night when you’re all alone you can still feel the way his calloused fingertips massing you so gently. The hard with the soft; the essence of Joel Miller. 

“Does this hurt?” He asked four weeks in, as you sat for your nightly ankle exam. Starting your very first night, after dinner he would take your foot into his lap and exam it and massage it carefully for upwards of 15 minutes. You weren’t a doctor, but you knew enough to know that a nightly exam was excessive and unnecessary. But even at the very beginning you knew this was his way of showing you that he cared, that he wanted you safe. It was around this time that you realized that Joel had a soft spot for stragglers, for the outcasts who just needed somebody. Between you and Ellie, that much was clear, and it just made you fall faster for him than you thought possible. 

This realization and the true weight of it didn’t come to a head until one day where you decided to go out and try and collect some berries from the woods on the other side of the gate for a pie you wanted to make Joel for his birthday. You had seen him do it a million times, you thought you could get away with it. Until you heard that sound. 

Everything was fine, you had collected your blueberries and you were on your way, and then you heard it. You hear it before you see it, but soon enough you see it all the same. You had your gun with you, but your reaction time was nowhere near as fast as Joel’s was. The clicker starts stalking your way when you lose yourself to your impulses and just start running. You know better than to scream, but you get close. You run and you run and you’re looking back to make sure you’re not going to get caught when you smack into something six foot and massive. Joel’s chest. After you make eye contact you look up and make eye contact with him. He’s silently fuming, fists white knuckling around his gun. 

You go to speak when he stops you, “Don’t.” He whispers right before he shoots the clicker dead with no hesitation or struggle. The walk back to the house is silent, and not because he’s afraid of being found by the clickers. 

The slam of the front door is the first sound you’ve heard in minutes. He whips around and you swear you can see smoke coming out of his ears. “What the hell was that?!”

“I-” You start.

“You know what? I don’t want to know. I can’t hear from you right now.”

You say nothing.

“That was so completely careless! Do you not understand how we do things around here? You stay, I go. It’s as simple as that.” He’s pacing at this point, waving his hands wildly as he works through his anger with you. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You pause, “I thought you didn’t want to hear from me.”

He stops pacing and looks at you, “Ha ha ha very funny. You’re a real smartass, you know that? If I hadn’t been there God knows what would have happened. You could have gotten killed!”

You look down at your feet, trying to hold back tears before you look back up. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

He sighs, physically decompressing. “Well you went about it all the wrong way. I don’t need anything nice from you, you do enough around the house and with Ellie anyway,” He pauses, “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you had gotten hurt.” He says this last part in a whisper under his breath, barely able to look at you.

“But it’s your birthday!” You choke out a sob. You’re so mad at yourself for putting yourself in danger and upsetting the man who saved your life six months ago. 

“What? No it’s not.” He says, confused.

Then, a lightbulb goes off for both of you as your jaws drop and you yell in unison, “ELLIE!”

Turns out, Ellie just wanted some pie.

================================================

Part 3: The Catch, Present Day

A lot can change in six months. But also, a lot can stay the same. You’ve grown very accustomed to the life you live here, in this big beautiful house, with your small makeshift family. Ellie is 17 now and makes Joel take her on test drives in Bill’s old truck around town. Joel has definitely gotten used to having you around, and even converted Frank’s old studio into a bedroom for you a couple of months ago. A real upgrade from living on the couch for the first eight months. 

Life is pretty standard, all things considered. You’ve heard more stories about the men who ran the house before you and you think they’d be happy to have people like you living a life like this in the home they built together. It’s a beautiful thing, to have some normalcy in a world fallen apart. 

You spend a lot of time with Ellie, who has developed a crush on one of the QZ traders. She’s tall and lean and tougher than all hell, you can see what Ellie sees in her even if you’re personally afraid of her. This realization on Ellie’s part has prompted a lot of impromptu sleepovers in your art studio turned bedroom, almost all of which are ended by Joel standing in the doorway going on about keeping quiet out of respect for your elders. You have to remind him every time that you too are an elder.

It’s also the summer time which means there’s lots to do outside. You never really learned how to tend to a garden so Joel’s been teaching you how to take care of the one Frank started all those years ago. You two keep it up with the seeds you get from trading with those select few still at the QZ, and it’s been a really special time between the two of you. It also doesn’t hurt that he prefers to work in the garden shirtless. 

“Hello? Hello? Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” 

You snap out of the trance you were in from watching him hoe or row or whatever it is he’s doing with that gardening tool that makes his arms and back look like that. “What? Sorry, I zoned out.”

“You’re never going to learn if you keep daydreamin’ like that.” He gruffs before starting his spiel on strawberries all over again. 

You really can’t get a read on him. Sometimes he treats you as an equal, someone who has a shared interest in their work and in the safety of Ellie, but other times he treats you like you’re a toddler that can’t help but knock their head on the corner of a coffee table. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want you hurt, which you admit gives you butterflies, but if anything between you is ever going to transpire (like you desperately need it to), he can’t see you as just some kid. You’re turning 25 next week, dammit. You deserve some respect. But you’re just not sure how to get it, how to make him see you as a true equal. Someone he can rely on, put his faith into, and even care about on a deeper level. 

The opportunity of a lifetime presents itself one day in the form of something actually rather unfortunate. Joel finally gets hurt.

It’s a pretty normal day until then. You and Ellie practice driving, you journal, listen to some old records. It’s too hot to spend too much time outside, but you definitely make sure to check on the strawberries considering the lecture you got from Joel last week. It’s midafternoon when he comes straggling in, clutching his left arm in his hand and seething through the pain.

You immediately jump up from the couch, “Oh my God, what happened?”

He sinks down on the chair next to the piano, not looking at you. “Nothing, just go get the first aid kit.”

That answer is nowhere near good enough, but you go and get it anyway. Ellie is out in the backyard and doesn’t hear the commotion. When you return with the first aid kit you press on, “You have to tell me what happened so I can know how to treat you.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as you kneel in front of him, opening the kit. “It’s nothing, just gonna need a couple stitches.”

You pry his right hand off his arm and see a deep gash on the bottom of his forearm. It’s not too long, but it sure is deep. “Jesus Joel, what the hell happened?”

He shifts and sighs once more, whispering something under his breath that you can barely hear.

“What was that?” You ask earnestly.

He whispers again, slightly louder this time, but he’s talking too fast to make out what he said. 

“Joel, come on. What happened?” You’re tending to his wound now anyway, but you really do need to know. 

He sighs, bringing his free hand up to pinch between his eyes. Avoiding eye contact with you he finally says, “I was walking back from trading when I saw a flower. I wanted to get that flower for you for your birthday. With my shears in one hand, I leaned down to get it, and I lost my balance and I tripped and I fell on top of the shears and they stabbed me.” He pauses, “There,  you happy? Now that I’ve humiliated myself…” He trails off. 

You’re too stunned to speak. You just keep staring at him, unmoving.

“If you’re not going to fix this up, give me the kit so I can do it myself,” He huffs at you.

You swallow and smile at him, trying to find the words. “Joel Miller, you secret softie. You maimed yourself in the pursuit of trying to do something nice for me, the girl you claim not to want around.”

He locks eyes with you for the first time during this conversation, “I never claimed that.”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment until you clear your throat and turn your attention to the wound at hand (or should you say, at arm?). “Let’s get this stitched up, ok?”

“If Ellie asks, tell her I did something super manly and tough to get these stitches, ok?”

You let out a laugh and nod, “Sir, yes sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been three days since Joel hurt himself trying to do something nice for you and it has not left your mind even for a moment. You’re laying in bed wide awake, tossing and turning wondering what this could mean. I never claimed that he said so earnestly to you. I never claimed that. The four words echo in your brain like a megaphone. It’s been torture being around him as if nothing has changed. As if you haven’t changed on a molecular level after those four words rearranged every fiber of your being. It may be nothing, but it also could be something. It could be the that takes what you’ve been craving for almost a year to leave your daydreams and become a reality. Maybe he meant it in a friendly way, maybe even in reference to your working relationship of raising Ellie and keeping her safe. But if that were the case, why did it feel like all of the air in the room stood still? Why did he look to you like he was a puzzle that only you could solve? 

Cordiality be damned, you had to know the answer. 

You sneak out of bed and up the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie in her room on the first floor. Joel may be modest, but he still took the primary bedroom upstairs when they moved in. You avoid the creaking steps up the stairs artfully and end up at his door. It is only at this point you realize how crazy this is. You’re standing outside his door in the middle of the night with no plan and, frankly, no pants on. This is a recipe for disaster that you’ve quickly talked yourself out of. You go to turn around when the door swings open, Joel looking alert. His body visibly relaxes when he sees that it’s just you, and then tenses once more as his eyes trail down our body to the long length of your bare legs. 

“What are you-” “Sorry I was just-” You say at the same time.

You laugh, trying to break the tension. “Sorry, I was just leaving.”

“What are you doing up here, Y/N?” His body was pressed up against the side of the doorway, blocking it almost entirely with his broad stature. Shoulders resting on the side of the doorway, arms and feet crossed, he looked in no hurry to get you out of there. 

“It doesn’t really matter, I answered my own question. I’ll just head back downstairs,” You go to walk away when he grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to face him.

“Must’ve been some curiosity if it’s keeping you up at night.” You’ve never heard him talk like this. Not just the words he was saying but how he was saying them, they were smooth and slow and rich like molasses. It instantly made your mouth dry up and your knees weaker.

“I um, I was just wondering-”

“Yes?” He prompted, his hand still on your arm. Had he ever touched you before this? Surely you would have remembered the heat. 

You look him in the eyes and see a glint, even in the darkness. This spark of something gives you the courage to move along. “I was just wondering what you meant by saying you never claimed you didn’t want me around.”

His hand drops from your arm and the heat is replaced by an instant rush of cold in his absence. He looks away from you and doesn’t speak. 

Fearing you said the wrong thing you cower and turn to walk away once more. How could you have been so stupid? This isn’t just a matter of personal politics, this is a matter of survival. You have no one besides Joel and Ellie and if you get kicked out for bringing feelings into what is a basic need for shelter, food, and water, you will never forgive yourself.

You’re almost to the stairs when you hear him rumble, “I just meant that I have always wanted you around.” You whip around and see him looking at you, his gaze trailing down your body and then all the way back up again. “I want you here. Always have.”

Not moving towards him you speak, “Then why do you act like I’m some sort of helpless child? Why do I not have any real responsibilities? I could be out there, with you, trading and gathering intel. But instead I get, what, strawberries?”

“You don’t get it.” He looks down and shakes his head.

You walk back over to him, softly, so as not to spook him again. “Then help me understand.”

He looks at you with a softer gaze this time, “I keep you here, away from all of that, because I can’t risk you getting hurt,” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “It would kill me.”

You’re stunned. “Joel,” You start before he lifts a hand and cuts you off. 

“And I give you things like strawberries because I want you to have a chance at a good life, a simple life. One I can’t promise you forever but can promise you for right now. One I know you don’t even remember having.”

Your heart is beating immeasurably fast inside your chest. You never considered that these menial tasks were actually normal, and good. Cleaning up after dinner, growing strawberries, talking about crushes with Ellie. In the midst of wanting to prove yourself, you completely forgot to take stock of all that Joel had given you already. All the things people dream about in this day and age. 

You reach a hand up to touch his face, “Thank you. Thank you for giving me something good,” You pause, “I wish I could give you something good in return.”

He leans his head into your hand and closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, “You are my something good,” he says so low you almost miss it. 

But you don’t miss it. You hear it loud and clear. You hear him loud and clear for probably the first time since you’ve met him. He is stoic and strong and brooding and brave, but he is also caring and thoughtful and safe. He is the hard with the soft, and he’s been giving you both all this time right under your nose. 

You decide to do something risky. You lean in for a kiss. You put your hopes for survival at the back of your mind and for the first time in forever you prioritize living.

It doesn’t take more than two seconds for Joel to pick up on what you’re doing and reciprocate. His arms immediately move from crossed over his chest to around your waist, pulling you deeper into the kiss. He pulls you so deep you cross the threshold of his bedroom, kicking the door shut on your way in. 

“Be quiet or you’ll wake Ellie!” You half scold, half giggle as you make your way towards the bed. 

“Sorry!” He giggles back. Joel Miller. The Joel Miller giggled into your lips. You could hardly believe your ears. 

If his words were like molasses, his kiss was just as sweet. Not too pushy, but with enough force to let you know that he was in charge. He guides you to the mattress with his body and his mouth, making you feel like you’re flying. You’re sprawled out with your legs over the edge of the bed when he finally pulls away and stands before you. 

You look up at him with hooded eyes and heavy breaths, “Why’d you stop?”

He runs his hands through his hair, “I just never want to forget this.” And he dives back down to you, not giving you a moment to respond. 

When he comes back his kiss is still sweet, but with a heat you’ve never experienced before. Granted, all of your past experiences were minimal, probably in the back of an abandoned, decaying car, and in the midst of an apocalypse, but you knew enough to know that it didn’t normally feel like this. 

You part your legs so he can insert his body between them, propping his arms on either side of your head as he kisses you deeply. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you, needing as much of him on you as possible. 

“Somebody’s eager, huh?” He asks you between kisses.

Your resolve is officially broken, you’re laying it all out on the table. “You just have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

He pulls back to look at you, “Oh, I think I have an idea. You tend to have a staring problem, darlin’”

Your face flushes instantly. He lowers his lips to your ears and whispers, “I do too, I’m just a little more subtle with it.” He places kisses on your neck and then trails back up to your ear, “Your body drives me crazy, baby.”

Suddenly his hands are everywhere. One is up by your head so he keeps his balance while the other is trailing up and down your chest, your stomach, your neck. He’s everywhere all at once and it still isn’t enough. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist so you buck up to create even more friction than there already was. 

“Easy there, baby, I’ve been waiting an awful long time for this, I want to take it slow with you. Gotta treat you right.” He pins your waist down to the mattress with one hand. “Let me take care of you, baby.” His look is so sincere all you can do is nod. “Good girl.” 

With that, he takes his hand pinning you down and runs the tips of his fingertips along the waistline of your underwear, teasing you. You whine.

“Patience baby,” A kiss on the cheek, “It will be worth it, I promise,” A kiss on the other cheek. Then his fingers are tugging them down inch by inch until you’re completely bare to him from the waist down. “So pretty,” He says, almost to himself. 

Before you have time to acknowledge what he’s said, the same gentle fingertips that were teasing you a moment ago land on your most sensitive spot, creating a feeling of pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. Your body somehow tenses and melts into the mattress at once as he works you slowly but surely. 

“How does that feel, baby?” His voice is rough around the edges but soft at its center, he genuinely wants to gauge your reaction, as if your whines and body language weren’t enough. 

“Itfeelssogood” You slur out, hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. 

He kisses your neck, “Good. Now,” He moves his finger to your center and thrusts it in, moving his thumb back to your clit. “How does that feel?”

He’s working you up so good, you feel like you’re floating. His pace is the perfect mix between rough and conscious, never taking his eyes off you for even a second. You can tell he’s loving this as much as you are, and not just because you can feel his erection through his boxers. 

You moan as he works you before answering, “Joel it feels so good.”

“Such a good girl for me, so wet and ready. Is this what you were thinking about when you couldn’t sleep?” He whispers in your ear as he picks up the pace. 

You can feel something building deep inside of you, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and never at this magnitude. It’s coming on strong and fast, you can almost reach it. “Yes, this is what I was thinking about. I was thinking about your hands on me.”

“Mmmm that’s what I like to hear baby, what else were you thinking about?” He grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boxers, “Were you thinking about this?”

You moan and nod your head, he’s continuing to pick up his pace and you’re getting closer and closer. 

“I want you to cum for me, gorgeous. Please cum for me.”

You throw your head back and moan again, “I want to cum for you.”

“Just focus on how good it feels baby, you’re so close I can feel it. Be a good girl for me.”

And just like magic, you’re there. It hits you like a freight train and your whole body is consumed. You’re tensing and writhing and it definitely isn’t normally like this, but you’re just so overcome with emotions for this man and pleasure and all of the things that drive a girl crazy. 

He coaxes you through it with lots of reassurances and hair pets, and then finally you’ve come down. “Thank you,” You say as he brushes some hair out of your face.

“Don’t thank me yet darlin’, I’m not done with you yet.” And with that, he hauls your body up to the head of the bed, making sure your head is all settled on the pillows. He sits back on his knees and takes off his shirt, nodding at you to do  the same. You’re left completely bare and he in his boxers alone. You’re mesmerized by his body. Age normally should have broken him down, but for him he seems to have only been built up. You had seen him in the garden but this, this was something entirely different. He was raw here, with you. 

“This is what I meant by you needing to be more subtle. You don’t need to undress me with your eyes, baby, you just gotta ask.” He stands up and drops his boxers, revealing himself to you fully for the first time. He’s big. Like, real big. And thick. You don’t let yourself dwell on the mechanics for more than a moment, but you do wonder how it’s going to fit.

He gets back in bed and hovers over you once more, “Are you sure about this? We can stop at any time.”

You nod your head, “I’m sure. Never been more sure about anything, actually.”

He gives you one more kiss, a firm one with the promise of a good time. You run your fingers through his hair and tug slightly. He moans into your mouth. “You sure are an eager one, aren’tcha?”

He grabs his member and lines it up with your center, teasing you slightly. You wince at the sensitivity from your previous orgasm. “You ok?” He asks gently.

“Yeah, just a little sensitive. But I’m ready. Please fuck me, Joel.” The words even surprise yourself as you say them. You’re not the best at being direct about what you want, but right now all you can do is rely on pure instinct. 

He chuckles darkly before lining himself up once again, “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he’s fucking you. Long, hard strokes that never feel like too much too fast. Just right. You feel the fullness of him immediately and it’s so divine you can’t help but arch into him and moan. Your fingers fly back into his hair as he thrusts into you with such precision, he hits your G-spot every time.

“Is that good for you, baby? Tell me how it feels.” He grunts as he pounds into you expertly.

“I love it, baby. I love it,” You’re breathless as you try to find the words to describe the way he’s making you feel.

He takes one of your legs and rests your ankle on his shoulder, opening you up even more than you thought possible and deepening the angle of his already deep thrusts. You try not to scream, so you grab a pillow and put it over your face.

He rips it off almost immediately, “Oh no, sweetheart. No hiding from me. I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.” 

You’re so incoherent you can’t even respond to his filthy words. You just moan in response and grab the sheets on either side of you.

He changes his pace a couple of times, switching from slow and long to fast and shallow, but it never feels out of place or off rhythm. He is just somehow so in tune with your body that he knows exactly what you need when you need it. 

You’re whining and moaning when he lowers your leg and gets his face up next to yours. His hand moves down to  your clit and he starts massaging it while he continues to thrust into you. “You’ve been such a good girl tonight baby,” He says through his own labored breathing. “Coming up here in your little panties practically begging to get fucked. Such a good girl.” You moan so loud he covers your mouth with his other hand, “I love hearing those moans baby but you gotta keep it quiet if you want me to keep going. And I know you want me to keep going.” 

You nod and he removes his hand from your mouth and sits back again, watching you from above. “Play with your tits while I make you cum.” You do as you're told, loving the feeling of his eyes fixed on you while you do exactly what he says. 

Once again, you feel something building inside of you. The combination of him inside you, his fingers working their magic, and his eyes on you makes it nearly impossible to resist the feelings as they come on strong. 

“I’m gonna cum,” You whine. 

“Do it baby, cum for me” He picks up his pace and you can tell he’s getting close himself, can tell he’s chasing something. 

It only takes a couple more seconds before you finish in an explosion of pleasure. You’re so out of it as you come down you barely register him pulling out and grabbing a tissue from the side table. What a gentleman. 

You’re both laying there in silence when the gravity of what just happened finally hits you. You just had sex with the one person that stands between you and certain death. This could ruin everything. You move to get up and go back to your room when you feel an arm on you, pulling you back down. 

“Stay,” He pauses, “Please stay with me.”

You smile softly at him and lay back down, but this time he wraps you up in his arms and spoons you. You can feel his breathing on the back of your neck and his calluses on your arms as he holds you. He starts tracing little circles on your skin with his thumb while he hums. 

“That was amazing,” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um, sorry if I came on too strong,” He pauses, “Haven’t done that in awhile.”

You turn around to face him and you rest a palm on his cheek, “It was perfect. You were perfect. I um, I just hope this doesn’t change anything?” You nervously finish.

He looks startled. He quits rubbing circles on your skin and moves back. “Yeah, no. No, it doesn't have to change anything.”

Clearly, you’ve struck a chord and you don’t know why or how. But you do know that you need to fix it. 

“I just, I know we’re in a precarious situation and I don’t want you to feel like our relationship has changed at all.” You begin.

He sits up fully with his back against the headboard, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Joel?” You join him up against the headboard, covering yourself with the blanket.

He sighs but doesn’t look at you, “If I had thought everything would stay the same I wouldn’t have done what I just did. I wouldn’t have opened the door and I certainly wouldn’t have let you in.”

You’re stunned and you’re scared, having no idea what he’s talking about. “What are you saying?”

Finally, he looks at you. “Dammit Y/N what if I want things to change?” He doesn’t raise his voice at all, but his tone is stern enough to send you aback. 

“What?”

Another sigh, “What if I want things to change? What if I want somebody who is going to be there for me at the end of the day in my bed? This world isn’t permanent and I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now. For now, I want this. For now, I want you. And I’m gonna keep wanting you until the thing that stands in the way of me and death itself disappears.” He pauses, “So yeah, maybe you don’t want things to change but I do. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” He looks away from you again. 

“Joel, I-”

“I don’t want your pity. I get it, I’m just some old man with a 17 year old basket case trailing behind me and you’re young and beautiful and just had an itch to scratch. We’ll continue with business as usual in the morning. Good night.” He flips over onto his side away from you. 

You huff. This is ridiculous, you think to yourself. You tap him on the shoulder.

“You should probably go back to your room, Y/N.”

You tap him on the shoulder again. 

He flips around to look at you, “What more could you possibly want from me?”

You cross your arms over your blanket covered chest, “What makes you think I wanted things to stay the same?”

“Gee, I don’t know, probably the part where you said ‘things don’t have to change’?” He says sarcastically as he sits back up to face you. “Wonder where I got that crazy idea.”

“I was just saying that in case you didn’t want anything to change! I’m totally at your mercy with everything, including my survival here, so sorry for being cautious.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his mouth does fall open in shock a little bit. 

“Joel, trust me when I say I’m not taking pity on you when I say I want this too. I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now, and for tomorrow, and for the next day and the day after that. I choose you and I choose Ellie and I want this. I want you. I want to be the one that is there for you at the end of the day.” You smile at him and grab his hand, “You’re my good thing too.”

His face softens and he grabs your joined hands with his other one and leans over to kiss you on the cheek. You lean into it and giggle as he begins peppering a bunch of kisses all over your face. The hard with the soft, that’s Joel Miller.

“Let’s go to bed, shall we?” You ask him as he leans over you, caressing your face.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.” He gives you one last kiss on the cheek and spoons you once more.

That night you dream of strawberries. Just fields and fields of strawberries. 

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel last of us #joel last of us smut

[beauregardlionett]

i have harbored a very quiet grudge against imogen's character and i never really post about it here because like...idk to me it felt a little baseless and not worth the fight from the people who do like her. but sitting here watching her interact with her mother? that's where it comes from. i'm sitting here chewing on my own hand begging her to just give up - to let her mother lay in the grave she's digging, to not fucking die alongside her out of some misplaced sense of being able to save a woman who does not want nor believe she needs saving.

it drives me up a wall that imogen still hopes for a mother in liliana when i have already cast the woman aside as a disillusioned lost cause. how horrid it is of me to condemn a character who still hopes and yet i still beg imogen to give up on this woman.

#it's the mommy issues don't worry about it #cr #critical role #c3e92 #beaureblogs #cr spoilers #imogen temult

[morkofday]

Hello 🤗 Which were your top 5 moments when you just knew the person on screen was in love?

i'm very sorry i'm a bit late with this but you know, life :'D i thought about this already before but only had the time to make this into a post now!

-

My Top 5 BL WhippedTM Moments

(or where i knew they were in love/feeling something/some type of way about a situation – sorry i took some liberties here)

I. Mork fixing Day's hair in Last Twilight episode 3

i know this doesn't exactly fit (maybe?) bc i cannot say if mork is quite in love here yet but this scene is glorious in showing a character realize they have feelings. the way mork pauses and just keeps stroking day's hair and wondering his face, if he likes it, if he likes him, and then has to snap out of it bc he gets so into his head – it's amazing. i love this scene. and it shows that mork did fall first, argue with the wall.

II. Yai seeing Jom for the first time in I Feel You Linger in the Air episode 1 & 2

sorry i couldn't find the exact moment as a gif so this will have to do. i just love how in the first episode, when yai first sees jom drop into the water from the boat, you can already see he's in love. i never questioned that it wasn't love at first sight for him – bc it so obviously was. he was gone the moment his eyes landed on jom and i really gotta admire the actor (bright? is that his name?) for so perfectly showing that.

III. Jaewon watching Jihyun fall asleep on his shoulder in The Eights Sense episode 2

these two are less obvious about their feelings bc of, well, reasons, but you can see it all here. i know jaewon goes through a journey before really accepting himself and those feelings, but jihyun is so comfortable about his own. but in this moment, you can see jaewon's walls cracking right open. he's extremely fond. and he's happy to have this moment, to be close to jihyun like this. also, i am just weak for sleeping scenes.

IV. Tien watching over Lomfon when he's sick in La Pluie episode 10

this is a perfect scene combining a character being sick, them falling asleep, and another character pining for them. you can see how badly in love tien is with lomfon at this point and it's astounding considering where they started. tien used to hate lomfon's guts with a passion but was the first one to realize and accept his feelings for him. i think in this scene you can see how much it hurts him to feel this way while lomfon is still figuring it all out.

V. Joke digs his own grave with Zo in Hidden Agenda episode 3

it always amuses me to no end when a character who has a secret crush insists on putting themselves into Situations with their secret crush. bc in most occasions, that backfires when they cannot handle those situations. that's joke as a character. and i love this scene for how ridiculous it is bc joke knows what he's doing and then he's the one who runs away from it. he's so stupid. it's adorable.

Bonus: Gun Gawin with Boss Cher in Our Skyy 2 x A Boss and a Babe episode 1

idk i just adore the look gun gives cher any time he has a chance. this man is so gone. he is so content just watching his bf be silly and adorable. you can literally see the hearts in his eyes and the syrup dripping from his lips. what a sap.

-

thank you so much for this ask and happy new year to you!! ♥

#last twilight #i feel you linger in the air #the eighth sense #la pluie #hidden agenda #a boss and a babe #our skyy 2 #this was a very good question!! #sorry i went a bit off topic with it tho #also i obviously forgot a ton of moments #bc gosh i love these type of moments the most ♥ #have an amazing upcoming year!!

[fulltimecatwitch]

sorry to get personal again today, but i got sick yesterday and since i'm unable to go the the women's march i today i will be screaming here

I know today is International Women's Day and for a lot of people it's a day of celebration and conmemoration and that's okay, it is important to remember and honor those who fought before us

But in you live in Latin America, then you know that today is not really a celebration. It is almost a day of collective grief for all us. Especially everyone who has lost a a sister, wife, aunt, friend, etc to murder or disappearance

10 to 11 women dissapear in my country ( Mexico) everyday

10 to 11 every fucking day

remember those fucking numbers because i sure do every day i wake up

10 TO 11

And in Mexico the goverment cares so little that it has provided basically zero help to stop this violence.

It's the very same people who grieve their loved ones who have had to organize themselves so they are able to get answers about what happened to their lost ones.

The Madres Buscadoras are a collective who searches mass graves all throughout the country in hopes that they can find the remians of their loved ones.

Imagine having to dig the bones and remains of your wife, your sister or your friend with your own hands because the police refused to do anything to help you

and the worse thing is that even the madres buscadoras have disappeared while searching their loved ones because they want to keep them quiet, they don't want them and us to know what happened

where is the justice in that ?!?!?!?

I'm so fucking tired of feeling this horrible pressure in chest everytime my mom or sister go out alone and the only thing i can do is pray and pray they get home safely

i'm tired of having to turn on my location and take a picture of my outfit every time i go out because if i dissapear those will be the only references my family will have of me

i'm tired of listening to how many of us have been killed or assaulted everyday on the news because everyday you hear of a new case

i'm tired of the violence and injustice against little girls

i'm tired of the violence and injustice against my trans sisters ( unsurprisingly Mexico is only the second most dangerous country to be transgender)

im tired of people who think marching, burning and vandalising monuments is not an appropriate way to protest because they rather defend a monument than our bodies

I'M JUST SO FUCKIN TIRED AND ANGRY BECAUSE OF HOW THEY HAVE TAKEN OUR RIGHT TO EXIST IN PEACE

i don't know what else to say, except that i really hope one day the international community talks about this more, especially all the gringos who have come to gentrify our country here and never show you this side of mexico

i will leave you the links for a movie and documentary you can see on netflix about the raw reality of women who dissapear on Mexico

Las Tres Muertes de Marisela Escobedo

documentary about Marisela Escobedo, a mother who searched for her missing daughter and was killed for it

Ruido by Natalia Beristain

movie about a grieving mother searching for her missing daughter who finds a network of support as she connects with other women whose lives have also been disrupted by violence

finally i leave you cancion sin miedo 💚💜

#international women's day #women's history month #women's rights #feminism #mexico #latinoamerica #ni una menos #gentrification #equal rights #reproductive rights #trans rights #feminismo #intersectionalfeminist #intersectional social justice #intersectional activism

[blood-starved-beast]

do you have any bloodborne fanfic recommendations? i trust your taste 💌

I'll admit I haven't read too much Bloodborne fanfiction and I want to (especially on Eileen the Crow and Fauxsefka) but I do have some recs. Warning in Advance that I am a Maria/Kos shipper so if you're not into that well a good number of these are moot.

Not listed in any order except maybe latest to oldest added to my bookmarks:

Carmina Abyssi by LunarLich (@nerendus) [KosxMaria] - goes hard man. idk where to begin to discuss it. The way Kos has a pre-emptive interest in Maria (haunting her mind) and the scene where Maria finds the Orphan in the corpse and Kos takes over to touch him one last time. Kos giving Maria an "out" but also Maria digging her own grave. There are so many details and symbolism and just urgh so good. Everyone knowing something is Wrong with her but no one knows/does anything about it.

lamprey by particulate - the atmosphere in this one is unmatched. The way everything feels slimy and gross and wet. Maria being a Sad Distraught Byronic Hero misplaced from some Victorian Romantic film, Gehrman Not Getting Her, Micolash being Micolash :/. Some details are very big oof.

Come, Let's Away to Prison by captainjackspearow is perhaps the first fic to make me consider the Gehrman+Maria Kos+Orphan and Moon Presence+Gehrman parallels in a serious light. Pity them both ngl.

Facile Oceanum by 0plus2equals1 [KosxMaria] is one I think of a lot. This one is so poetic and the description of the imagery is so vivid. And very dreamlike. OP also wrote some interesting Hunter/Annalise fic if I'm recalling correctly.

Ave Maria by xeboot is a Doll meeting Maria fic and one I keep thinking about a lot. Love the unsettling vibes from the Doll here, and the very dream-like logic going on.

Water Makes Many Beds by kiyaar is a Maria-character study and how she lived during the latter stages of her life. Really like the detail that she's contemplating suicide long before she actually takes the shot figuratively speaking.

How do you solve a problem like Maria? by Mosslynx (@pumpkaaboo) has my favorite depiction of the Hunter protagonist of Bloodborne. It is as inquisitive and strange and intellectual as I expect the Hunter to be. Also really like how the Doll is written, as all the references to the world outside of Yharnam being set at least decades after Bloodborne's in-game setting. The mystery of who is this mysterious Hunter is so well thought out.

waves by thalassashells is another character study. This one is a lot shorter, but man I am a sucker for imagery for fics in this fandom.

Ask me again when I start reading fics about other characters.

#lady maria of the astral clocktower #bloodborne #d asks #fanfic #fanfic recs

[finisnihil]

Heyo ATLA fan over here I keep seeing people praise the live action remake for being darker than the original and citing that the original cant be darker because it's animated and. I have thoughts on this.

The original ATLA couldn't get super gore type dark because of its RATING not its MEDIUM, it was being produced by a kid's channel. Animated media CAN be dark and NO i'm not talking about "adult cartoons". Look at shows like Blue Eye Samurai. Any DC animated movie. Animation is constantly associated with being childish just because its most often used in children's media and I mostly blame Disney for that because Disney is my arch-enemy.

Regardless, ATLA IS STILL DARK. IT'S STILL SUPER FUCKING DARK. The entire plot of the show and it’s themes center around really heavy topics like war, genocide, the rewriting of history, child abuse, oppression, deconstructing societal roles, the place of mercy in extreme circumstances, redemption, death and grief, trauma, and so so so much more ATLA was never subtle about its themes it just communicated them in a way that wasn’t overtly gore based and didn't have cussing.

Hell just look at Kyoshi she's literally documented as being ruthless in her persuit of peace, a foil to Aang and his ideals, and when you read her spin-off books you see why. Her childhood friend and crush who was raised under the false belief that he was the Avatar was fucking sacrificed in front of her face and later came back as a shambling husk of his former self that she had to put down like a rabid dog. She survived getting hit with lightning by a crime lord. She spent her early days as Avatar being hunted down by a man who raised her, who’s nickname was the Gravedigger because he buried his enemies alive after making them dig their own graves. That’s not even the full of it either. Kyoshi NEEDED to become ruthless to survive and you see that mindset in the Kyoshi Warriors and the Dai Li because those two groups are her legacy, she trained them, the darkness of her life bled over into that worldbuilding. When Aang asks her advice about Ozai she tells him to kill the bastard no questions asked because in her time hesitation on such things as mercy over justice is what got you killed.

I have so many thoughts about ATLA and it feels like many people miss the point. ATLA did not need to be given a “darker” medium to excel because it already excelled in its original one because live action is not adult media and animation is not child media and from what i’ve heard about the series it feels like the show forgot this is a story of children growing up in a hostile world that rests it’s fate on their shoulders.

The tone of the original show was childish despite it's incredibly dark themes and content because we were seeing the world through the eyes of Aang, Katara, and Sokka and later, Toph. Toph and Zuko's perspectives are way more jaded and darker because that's how they see the world and it's around when they become more involved we start seeing things with more weight than before. We don't need the show to be darker to be greater, it was great as it was because it was build on dark themes but did not let itself become drowned in them.

#Finis Analyzes #Nihil Dreams #Wow this is in both my personal and analysis tag #avatar the last airbender #atla

[carma-tjol]

Miscellaneous OPM Characters as Lady Gaga Songs

please read this oh my god I spent so much time... there's some meta scattered in there I promise.

Fubuki

Telephone

Bloody Mary

Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)

Telephone - because I watched an Instagram edit that used it and now I have it permanently associated with her. Fubuki has a fun and glamourous aesthetic and I feel like the song reflects that too Bloody Mary - because of the "I wont crucify the things you do" line. it reminds me of all the people she knows that are like. highly problematic but she's irremovably tied into their lives and ultimately accepts them. Eh Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say) - there are relationships she's had that fell tragically because of, while among other things, her own personal flaws and ego. It's tragic, but she really wasn't equipped to handle everything thrown at her at the time. there really is "nothing else [she] can say" anymore. Imagining her with this song puts a lighthearted twist on the woe of it.

Psykos

Summerboy

So Happy I Could Die

Teeth

MANiCURE

Summerboy - I like to imagine it as Psykos having the summerboy's POV. Feeling disposable and like she got played by Fubuki, she is left to sort of sourly reminisce on what could've been. So Happy I Could Die - for that INTENSE SAPPHIC ANGST. Also I like the concept of like. attempting to use sexuality to cope with severe internal turmoil. I love this song sooo much. Teeth - vibes I guess MANiCURE - "SHE WANNA BE MAN CURED!" so basically more sapphic stuff but campier and less gut wrenching this time lol.

Genos

(... god I initially struggled finding stuff for him HARD but ended up with 4 things. what.)

Replay

I Like It Rough

Shallow

Paparazzi (bonus)

Replay - Lady Gaga is talking about trauma and PTSD taking over and effecting every part of her life, which I feel like is relevant. "Every single day, yeah I dig a grave Then I sit inside it wondering if I'll behave" I Like It Rough - I've always interpreted this song as only ever experiencing harshness from people, not knowing how process kindness, and struggling to decipher sincerity. Which I feel like, removed from all the sex stuff, fits Genos pretty well thematically. Shallow - I don't really mean this in a ship way here (to be honest, one sided genos pining is my ideal! But that's not relevant here) but I can think of this song with Genos and Saitama's relationship and how at its core, One Punch Man revolves around them. They represent the central themes of companionship and how humanity is based on relationships with others. They try to "fill that void" with each other and Genos looks at Saitama worried, when will it be enough? (When will HE be enough?) Also I enjoy listening to songs where there is some form of disappearance or death and imagining the MA arc. I did that a tonnn with Sweet Talking Woman by ELO a while back, something about mixing the love song about chasing someone with the tragedy of the MA arc and how Genos became unattainable really clicked for me. (Fun fact, I had 182 listens for that song on my Spotify wrapped... pretty much all thinking of Genos) I'm supposed to be talking about Lady Gaga though oops. "Crash through the surface, where they cant hurt us We're far from the shallow now." They've experienced the same alienation, whether inflicted or self imposed and were able to drag each other out of it. Perhaps there's comfort in the similarity. Paparazzi (bonus lol) - If you enjoy leaning into Genos's weird obsession, this is the song for you! He's a little neurotic...

Flashy Flash and Sonic

I'm giving them the same song

Speechless

Speechless "In your tight jeans With your long hair and your cigarette stained lies Could we fix you if you broke? And is your punch line just a joke?" I connect it by thinking about how much weight their relationship held in their lives. Each of their dreams had the other in it. And I think that losing that was a bit worldshattering. "Would you give it all up If I promise, boy, to you?" Eyyyy we were left on a bit of a cliffhanger right? Flash was trying to ask sonic something but got cut off by the other ninjas. "We could-" we could what, Flash? we. could. what. (Team up again? Please I'm literally on my hands and knees begging, yet I know it's never that easy with OPM)

Amai Mask

Beautiful, Dirty Rich

The Fame

Beautiful, Dirty Rich - It's about fame! Living the high life! He's like a major celebrity and a diva so I think it works. Just ignore the bit where it says "but we've got no money" because he definitely has money. The Fame - similar thought process

Webigaza

Applause

Applause - She "lives for the applause!" The fame itself is empty without her fans.

Do-S (aka BONUS! other songs I like but had zero use for)

Love Game

Money Honey

Bad Romance

Poker Face

Government Hooker

Judas

not sexual enough for Do-S but I really like Americano too.

okay I'm done with these now I'm literally going insane

#opm #one punch man #opm meta #fubuki #psykos #genos #flashy flash #sonic opm #only tagging the more relevant characters lol #i listened to way too much lady gaga for this in the last 3 hours #i may have gotten in the top 0.05% for her in the wrapped this year but. imgonna die