#imagine me is one of the worst books i’ve ever read

[hells-wasabii]

So I came down with Covid yesterday :(

I was seeing if you were open to do one with Alastor and a sick reader? I don’t do requests often, this is so new to me💕❤️

Hi! I hope you’re feeling better by the time you read this! Covid isn’t fun at ALL, but I hope you enjoy the read!

Character: Alastor

Type: Headcanons+Drabble (Alastor x sick!reader, Fluff)

Alastor as a caretaker would honestly be a sight to behold. And he’s surprisingly good at it? Then again whenever his mother would fall ill he was right there to nurse her back to health, so he’s got a little bit of experience in that department.

Speaking of his mother, he would go out of his way to cook something for you, more specifically soups and the like that she would make for him when he was sick. Something full of nutrients to help you get back on your feet. When he would get sick as a child he had his mother to rely on, and now, you would have him. You were his partner after all. He couldn’t just leave you in such a state.

He would personally oversee that you’re well taken care of. Whether it be fresh linens for your bed or water to drink should you wake up thirsty. Whatever you needed, he would have it to you just as quickly as he could. It was odd seeing him so… nurturing, but then again the radio demon did have a habit of showing you sides of him that the rest of hell would never see.

You were sick, there was no doubt about that. You had been for nearly two days now. The first day hadn’t been that bad, at least at first. You didn’t even know it was possible to get sick in hell, and yet here you were, laid up in bed recovering from one of the worst fevers you’d ever experienced. It made you wonder if hell had some sort of super-flu or something of the like

It had quickly escalated to the point that it felt as if you could feel your bones. The second day you had spent much of asleep, a fact that had been a small relief on your aching body. That is until the fitful fever dreams came along. Oddly enough you found yourself trying to solve puzzles as a means to break the fever. It never worked.

The only thing that really kept you grounded when you were conscious had been the chills that left your muscles aching. Of course, you knew that sickness couldn’t kill you in hell, especially not a sinner, but by god did it feel like you were dying. 

Everything had been a haze up until a couple of hours ago. 

You had already decided by that point that the only thing worse than actually being in hell was being sick as hell in hell. But you did count yourself lucky, you did have one hell of a caretaker, after all. Groggily you opened your eyes to look over at the demon reading in the plush armchair in the corner of your room. You’re not sure how exactly he knew that you were awake, but the radio demon lifted his gaze to meet yours not even moments later. You noticed his smile softened just a bit before he spoke.

“Glad to see you’re awake, darling.” The radio demon said gently, sliding a bookmark between the pages of his book and setting it down on the seat of the chair as he got up. “Give me a moment to fetch you something to eat, I imagine you’re quite famished. I’ve prepared a soup I know you’re just going to love, my mother's recipe!”

The soft lull of a radio playing music from your bedside table met your ears. You thought you could recognize that song, you were sure it was one you had heard Alastor humming before. It brought a smile to your lips. You decided that you quite liked that song, as well.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #alastor x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor

[strangeandoff-putting]

why I'm happysad that they let Numa be the narrator in Society of the Snow.

So if you, like me, have been more than a little obsessed with the story of Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 for a very, very long time, your stomach probably dropped like mine did when the narrator introduced himself as Numa Turcatti. (My immediate thought was, "why would you do this to us?!") If you went in blind, I feel for you!

But while the film gave us a version of Numa, since it's from his perspective what it doesn't really give us is the group's perspective on him. He comes across a bit like an outsider, and although, yes, his only surviving friend was Pancho Delgado, he wasn’t an outsider for long at all. On the contrary. So, here are a few excerpts from the books that tell you more about what he was like and how much they all loved him, because I feel like that’s important.

From Alive, Piers Paul Read:

Next to Parrado, Numa Turcatti was the most generally beloved of the boys. [...] Since he had known few of the boys before leaving Montevideo, it was proof of his strength, simplicity and complete lack of malice that he became so loved and respected by them.

On celebrating Numa's birthday while trapped under the avalanche:

The boys gave him an extra cigarette and made a birthday cake out of snow. [...] Many would have liked to give him a better time on his birthday, but instead it was he who improved their spirits. "We have survived the worst," he said. "From now on, things can only get better."

From Society of the Snow, Pablo Vierci:

‘When I talk about Numa, I can’t help but cry,’ says Coche Inciarte. ‘He’s the best person I’ve ever met in my life. However tenderly I cared for those who were losing heart, Numa did it much better because he never got tired. He was constantly aware of everyone else’s distress. He radiated peace, he never gave up, and when he came near me, I felt like Jesus Christ himself was among us, with such mercy and compassion in his eyes. I don’t know where he got his strength.’ ‘I could never imagine him living in everyday life, because I met him and I loved him in that torment of the Andes,’ says Coche. ‘He had a hard time eating, like I did. We ate the bare minimum in order to survive. I lost one hundred pounds, he lost more. And just like me, his leg became infected after the avalanche. We operated on our legs together with a razor blade. But he deteriorated more quickly than I did, because he had given so much more; he had been too generous.’

Moncho Sabella:

Numa taught us about the anonymous heroism of giving more of himself to others than he reserved for himself. In that balance between solidarity and selfishness, which decided whether you lived or died, he tilted the balance in favour of the others to the detriment of himself. [...] And when the avalanche came and covered the plane, the one who worked the hardest, the one who removed the most snow so that we could come back to life, was Numa. Again, he was exceeding his own limits. [...] In the end, his immune system was so devastated that he got one infection after another. We gave him antibiotics and the doctors on the mountain attended to him every day, but finally he left us. And with him, we all died a little more.

Gustavo Zerbino:

I always remember Numa up there, full of despair, when he told us that he would rather die watching the sky, walking, instead of ending life immobilised in a cave of broken metal. For that reason, after the avalanche, he kept digging and removing snow without rest until he burned himself out with exhaustion. He always thought that his time had come but he wanted to work until the final moment, doing whatever he could to help. I cared for him all those days; I saw how he was hurried to the brink of death, with no defences, getting one infection after another. I went up to him and first I gave him a kiss on the cheek to greet him and asked him how he was doing. He just stared at me with a kind of infinite peace. He never complained. But Numa was quickly deteriorating: from that physical strength and vigour he had had at the beginning, he finished as a skeletal dying boy. He held on to his characteristic qualities until the end though. He was that same stoic guy when he was strong and when he was wasting away.

‘Gustavo Zerbino didn’t tell us the whole truth [about the expedition] because he didn’t want us to be discouraged. When I asked Numa about it, he couldn’t lie and he told me: “As far as we went, all you could see were more mountains.” But even so, he always wanted to be an expeditionary. “I want to go,” he told me, even though I knew at once he could never go, he was too exhausted and too hurt.’ So Numa approached Daniel Fernández, knowing that he had influence over the others, and he tried to convince him: ‘I can do it, Daniel, please believe me. I can do it.’ Daniel recalls, ‘When I told him that his injury made it impossible, he started working even harder than ever, like a bull, shovelling snow to unbury the plane after the avalanche to show that yes, he could do it.’

Finally, from Alive, after Numa died:

On this particular afternoon, Javier Methol lay at the back of the plane. "Be careful," he said to Coche as he rose and stepped over Numa's body. "Be careful not to step on Numa." "But Numa's dead," said Parrado. Javier had not realised what had happened, and now that he understood his spirits dropped completely. He wept as he had wept at the death of Liliana, for he had grown to love the shy and simple Numa Turcatti as though he were his brother or son.

I'm not sure the Numa we see in the film is quite the same person that he actually was on that mountain, but I'm so, so glad that he got a voice. He fought so hard for them all.

So, yeah. In the immortal words of Jake Peralta,

#numa turcatti #society of the snow #alive #andes plane crash #Uruguayan air force flight 571

[lucky-draws]

(transcript + some notes/explanation under the cut:)

i feel like the context of this is maybe only apparent in my own head LOL so basically ive kind of imagined an au where, based on the rebirth ending, james has succeeded in bringing mary back to life, but also maria, and also james gets killed in the process. so it's basically just maria and mary alone in the townTM trying to figure each other out. and this is a letter maria sends mary at some point basically. transcript in case the font is annoying to read:

Mary, You’ll have to forgive me if any of this sounds a little weird. I haven’t written anybody a letter in years, and I’m not sure if I have much of a way with words. Though I’ve been spending a lot of time in Ernest’s library lately, so hopefully some of his great literature has rubbed off on me. Somehow, I had this idea that I never liked reading much - that it wasn’t really my style - but I ended up getting kind of hooked. His dusty old books sure aren’t the worst company in this town, at any rate. I wonder what we really are, you and I. I used to think of us as two music box dolls: dancing side by side, spinning in perfect unison to somebody else’s tune. Like a pair of clocks keeping the same time. Two parallel lines, and an impossibility for us to ever intersect, to face each other head-on without some kind of disaster.

We’re not completely identical, though. If you looked closely at me - if you could bear to do that - you’d see all my imperfections. I lack your fine details. The paint on my lips is messier, my joins are showing, and there are bits of sprew left between my fingers. Pick me up, and you’ll feel how much lighter I am - I’m missing a lot of internal parts, you see. I’m a knock-off - we were cast from different molds. You were born of nature, while I was born from your very own killer. But I suppose I don’t need to tell you that. Do you hate me? I understand if you do. Or maybe I’m not so important - maybe you can only think of him. Or perhaps you’re trying not to think of anything at all when you sit by that lake for hours on end. I don’t know how you can stand it - going to the lake every day. It's so quiet. No ducks, not even a single bird. I’d go crazy, I think. That’s why I like to stay at the bar: there’s no one here either, of course, but it feels easier to imagine there might be. To pretend that we’ve only just closed, that those drinks on the table belonged to the last customers, and not to me. I’ve been so restless lately, sitting in the bar all night. I wonder if - no, I guess I’m hoping that - something’s going to give, soon. I think I’m losing the beat  - I’m spinning slower than you are. I think it’s because I keep getting distracted, always thinking of you. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s simply because you’re the only thing in this dreadful town that’s not a monster. But I think you must be as lonely as I am. Much more so, probably. And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you’d only reach through the mirror and touch me. I’m full of missing pieces, I know - but I have this notion that between us, we might just be able to come together into something like a real person. You know, some days I feel I hardly know who I am; but other times I feel so sure that I’m beginning to dance to my own beat. It’s no fun dancing alone, though. Well, I guess you know where to find me. I’ll be waiting at the bar tonight. I always am. I’ve waited there every night - for something, someone, anything, anyone - for what feels like forever. But these days, I’m just waiting for you. See you around, Maria

#silent hill #sh2 #silent hill 2 #maria silent hill #mary shepherd sunderland #just realised you can see the cursor in some of these because i was being insane and creating these in google docs. oh well <3 #i was gonna do an art piece w like the music box doll visuals and a bit of text but then i realised i had much more than just a bit of text #so it became a whole ass letter

[strawberryspence]

this is PLATONIC. love can be platonic. and that’s what this is. if i see anything non-platonic stobin tagged in my rbs, i will delete this.

this is inspired of that quote from dolly alderton, “nearly everything i’ve known about love i’ve learned in my long time friendships with women.” i said the word love so many times, it’s not real anymore.

anw, happy stobin month. their friendship means so much to me. so here’s something sappy.🍦

-

“What is love?” El asks him, with that bright eye curiosity that makes her— that makes her the best of them all in more ways than one.

Steve blinks at her, dropping the whisk he’s holding and thinks.

What is love?

It’s easy.

Steve smiles to himself as he thinks of a time where he would have floundered for an answer, searched for it in the empty corners of his heart and home, in the unblinking red light on the voice machine; waiting for something, anything.

Nearly everything Steve Harrington knows about love he has learned from Robin Buckley.

First, Steve learns how to fall in love with the most unlikely person in the crowd. Robin was, and will always be a better person than him. From her, he learns how to fall in love, admit it, and accept the fact that it won’t always get reciprocated. That’s okay, because in exchange of that rejection, would be something better than he could ever imagine.

Love is a friend. A real friend.

Second, Steve learns that love— is love. It isn’t something meant to be put into a box, it isn’t just one thing. It’s not just girls for boys, or boys for girls. It’s for everyone, it’s for anything your heart wants.

And when he finally came to the realization that he didn’t fit that box too, Robin held him for hours. Assured him that it’s okay, that if that’s who he is, she will still love him because of it, never despite it.

Love is being true to yourself. It’s freedom while being held by your person.

Third, Steve learns that love can be quiet. It’s not always hiding under the covers as your parents fight from across the room, it’s not loud pounding music as the love of your life tells you that you’re bullshit.

It can be found in quiet afternoons, while reading a book with your best friend. It can be found in quiet evenings, as you both try to paint in silence. It was sitting, in a field behind a stolen RV, making molotovs in silence, both terrified they’d be dead tomorrow. It can be found in the middle of the night, after a terrifying, too real nightmare, just bundled together holding each other's hand.

Love is quiet. It’s peaceful and content, even when its hard.

Fourth, Steve learns that love— the real one— doesn’t have an expiration date. He once thought that it’s always been like that, that for him it’s always been meant to be like that. There is an end date. That one day day everyone he loves will realize what he truly is… bullshit. Like when his parents started to learn that he was too much, and too little of what they want and needed, they started leaving more often or when Nancy realized she deserved someone better, it’s over.

Maybe, he’s still waiting for the day when Robin finally realizes that she’s so much better than him, that she could find someone better, that Steve can’t really be her platonic soulmate. Because soulmates— God— they’re two halves of one whole. But how could he ever live up to that? He doesn’t think he could ever, not when Robin’s got all the good parts when they were split into half.

But there’s an unspoken trust. A tiny voice in Steve’s head that tells him, above all the noise and self loathing, a voice that sounds so similar to Robin’s says, “Robin won’t do that to you. Not ever.”

He holds onto that voice, clutches at it with shaking hands.

Love is… Love is there. And you will pray, and hope, and beg that it never leaves. But love is also trust, so you hold on with that blind faith.

Fifth, Steve learns that the best love— it’s in the in betweens.

Love is when Steve’s having the worst migraine, so Robin cleans the store for him instead. It’s when his best friend got him a brownie, because she thought he’d like it. It’s when his bestfriend brushed his hair after a rough night, even if it’s drenched in sweat and tears. It’s the scar in his thumb from when the vodka bottle broke as they made molotovs. It’s when she finally snaps and locks him and Eddie in the pantry so they can talk about their feelings. It’s her weirdly proud smile when she opens the pantry, and they’re making out like their lives depended on it.

It’s popcorn stuck in between the couch from movie nights. It’s paint stains in his favorite blue jeans from the one night they painted his room. It’s the chip on the plate when they were eating and she chipped it from laughing so hard. It’s that old post note on the fridge that says, “Got you milk, Dingus!” that he never removed.

Steve Harrington has learned of love from everyone. From Dustin, to Max, to Eddie, to the rest of the kids. Even Hopper and Joyce, from Nancy and Jonathan. In some ways, he’s learned from his parents too.

It’s all different.

But in his core. In his truest core, in his deepest soul.

It’s all from Robin Buckley.

El is still looking at him, with a fond smile, like she can see the montage playing in his head. You know what? Maybe she does see it.

“What is love?” Steve repeats her question.

El hums, nodding.

“Love is a U.S.S Butterscotch Sundae.”

El giggles at his answer as Steve winks at her.

Steve turns to the open window above the sink. There’s laughter coming from the yard, where the kids are playing in the pool. Eddie’s reading Nancy a book, as Jonathan and Argyle lounge around.

Steve meets Robin’s eyes, and she smiles at him, raises a hand to wave at him.

Steve waves back at love personified.

(In Steve’s room, there’s an old recipe book. Given to him by his Grandmother, it’s filled with different recipes, some 50 years older than him, some newer. There’s a piece of paper tucked in between the pages, with a blue and white border and a little sailor hat. It’s stained from use and dirt. It’s not old, it’s not new, it’s from two summers ago. It’s a handwritten recipe with a note at the bottom.

Harrington,

I wrote this down because you kept forgetting the freaking recipe for the USS butterscotch sundae. Keep it with you, you dingus.

Buckley.)

#THIS IS PLATONIC #MY PLATONIC SOULMATES #stobin rants #platonic stobin #stobin my favorite platonic soulmates #stobin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #they get to be happy and alive #daeheadcanons

[forever-rogue]

I’m new to your blog and am LOVING your fics, and of course I’ve been rewatching narcos so I’m daydreaming about Javier Peña constantly

I like to imagine a scenario where Peña is at the bar again after a shitty, stressful day at work, and you (stranger) inquire about why he’s so gloomy, and soon you have him laughing and genuinely having a good time. Total fluff. Hardass Peña blushing and full belly laughing? My heart.

I just wanted to share but of course feel free to use it if you want! I just am obsessed 😂

AN | Just some softness with our fave DEA agent! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Javier

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d seen him walk into the bar many times now. He’d come in all sorts of moods, easily evident by how he carried himself. It was also easy to tell how his day went from the amount of drinks he ordered. You always made them, passing them along to him silently, never engaging in much conversation of any sort besides taking his order and payment. You wondered if he even really remembered you or if you were just another part of his evening routine. 

Whatever he thought of you didn’t change the fact that you were curious about him. But you weren’t about to impose yourself upon him. If he ever wanted to talk to you, you’d indulge him but that would have to be on his terms. You didn’t want to scare away one of your best and most regular customers after all. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a slow day with few patrons throughout the evening. You were half tempted to close up shop, but decided you weren’t that pressed to go home and opted to keep the place open. The worst that would happen was that you had no more people come through and you’d be left to your own devices. If that happened, you figured you’d get a head start on some deep cleaning. It really wasn’t too bad, plus you liked the bar you managed. Unlike so many others, it had a warm and inviting ambiance and most of the people that came through weren’t too bad. 

Just when you were about to give up that any one else would come in, you heard the front door open, accompanied by a soft sigh that had become very familiar. You looked up from the book you were reading - cleaning could wait, you had decided - and smiled when you saw that it was him. He was the last person you had expected to see tonight.

He came up and sat at the bar, at his usual spot, not even bothering to wave you down today. There was no reason to after all, it wasn’t like your attention was occupied by anyone else. You tried to squash your nerves as you walked over to him, wondering what type of mood he was in today. It had been hard to read from his walk for once so you quietly padded over to him. 

“Hi,” you cringed slightly when you realized how high pitched and squeaky your voice sounded, “hey. What can I get you?”

He hesitated for a moment before turning his eyes towards and looking you over. If it had been any other man, you might have felt worried or awkward, but no with him. His gaze was not unkind; and you liked his eyes. Warm brown with crinkles in the corner that you were almost positive showed up whenever he smiled, “you’re not from here.”

You blinked at him a few times before slowly nodding in response. A small smile tugged up the corners of your mouth, “no, I’m not. Have you just noticed or is it just a guess?”

He hesitated before sitting back and stifling his laugh, “it might be the fact that you just started speaking in English to me.”

“Oh,” you mentally slapped yourself; you normally didn’t make that mistake anymore but apparently your mind had gotten the better of you. Plus, you knew that while he was fluent in Spanish, he was American. It was easy to tell when you were in the same boat, “oh. Well, yeah, yes, you’re right. I’m not from here. And neither of you.”

“Nope,” he agreed as you grabbed a glass and started to pour him a drink, “Texas.”

“Texas,” you repeated, passing him the drink, “I’d ask what brings you here, but somehow I have a feeling you’re either not allowed to tell me or you’re not going to.”

“A bit of both,” he took a long drink as he studied you intently. He was fairly certain that you were friend and not foe, but he wasn’t quite ready to take the full plunge into trust just yet, “mostly the latter. What brings someone such as yourself to working in a bar in the middle of Cali?”

“Came to Columbia for school and then just…didn’t end up leaving. And I don’t just work here - I manage this fine establishment,” you gestured around, feeling proud of the space you’d turned into a friendly and cozy space, “you’re around a lot, so it can’t be too terrible.”

“Not at all,” he agreed, setting his glass down and tapping his fingers along the counter of the bar, “company’s not too bad either. Can you have a drink or is that…a big no?”

“Normally I don’t drink on the job,” you admittedly as you reached for another glass, “and I’m not a big drinker to begin with but I’m willing to make an exception every once in a while. Like you said - company’s not too bad.”

And then he laughed. A lovely sound that went straight to your heart and made your bones feel like jelly. You really liked him so far, so all you could do was hope he wouldn’t turn out to be one of the bad ones, but something in your guy told you that he wasn’t.

“What’s your poison?” he watched as you combined a few things to make your drink.

“It depends,” you decided to take a chance and make him one as well, “but tonight it feels like an old fashioned kind of night.”

"Classy," he raised his glass to you in a small salute as you snorted in amusement, "so you're making a special exception to drink with me, huh?"

"Mhmm," you took a long sip and leaned against the counter, "like I said, it's not what I normally do, but I feel like I can trust you."

"Trust me?" He asked. You nodded, "how so?"

"You've never hit on me, you've never been rude to me or anyone else, and you tip well," you swore you could see a slight blush well up in his cheeks, even in the low lighting, "which makes practically a dream man."

"Now you're just flattering me," but he was laughing - a deep, warm sound that seemed so genuine, "I'm sure there's plenty of men out there just like that but better."

"You've clearly never been a young woman out by herself late at night…or anytime really," you sighed lightly, "it doesn't matter if it's here in Columbia or anywhere else in the world. A lot of men are just…terrible."

"Yeah," he let out a long sigh and shook his head, "unfortunately I know what you're talking about."

"And you haven't done anything like that," you grabbed the bottle from under the counter, "which is why tonight's tab is on the house."

"What's the catch?" Oh yeah. This man could read your mind. You poured his refill before smiling coquettishly, "you're trouble, I can already tell."

"The catch is," you leaned on your arms on the counter so you were as close to him as possible without jumping over the counter, "you gotta tell me more about yourself. Deal?"

He studied you - intensely - before offering you a crooked grin, "deal."

"But?"

"You have to answer my questions too."

"Deal," you held out your hand which he eagerly shook, "deal."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your deal turned into a lot more than you bargained for. In only the best ways, which you hadn't really seen coming.

When you struck up that first conversation with him, you'd ended up talking for hours, well into the early hours of the morning. And it had all felt so natural and easy, like you'd known each for so long and so deeply.

It became a regular thing after that, with Javier coming in regularly - not to drink necessary but to spend time with you. It was easy and made him less nervous when it was under the guise of getting a drink. 

He came and found you at least a few nights a week, and you'd come to know so many sides to him. You could easily tell when Javier had a stressful day, when he'd had a good one, or was just tired to his bones. You still weren't positive exactly what he did for work, but you knew it wasn't anything to take lightly.

He'd even become what you considered a friend. You hoped he thought of you as a friend too.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You could sense that he was in a fantastic mood as soon as he came into the bar, a visible spring in his step. It made you feel better too - lighter, happier. 

"Hi Javi," you turned your attention to him immediately as he sat down in his usual spot. You leaned against the counter and gave him a smile that always made his heart skip a few beats, "how's it going?"

"Better now," and oh. His answer made you positively weak. You felt your entire face warm up as you took a second to look away so you wouldn't completely lose it, "how was your day, trouble?"

"Same old, same old," you shrugged, "uneventful but much better now."

"Dime," he mirrored your position and you were suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. The idea that you could lean in and kiss him was dizzying. 

You could play coy, could pretend you had no idea what he was talking about…but you felt bold. You were well aware of the fact that you'd both been beating around the bush, playing a little catch and mouse game. But something had to come to a head, right? You cocked your head to the side and gave him a coquettish smile, "you."

"Me?" You swore you could see a little flush of pink coloring his cheeks, "you sure about that?"

"I am," there was no going back now but somehow you didn't mind that, "you make my day better, Javi. Even if you're only there for a little bit at a time."

You watched his jaw tense as he seemed to be mulling something over deeply. Part of you was already panicking and worrying about having said the wrong thing. But then - he smiled and tapped his fingers along the countertop, "yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You make my day a lot better too," he let out a long weary sigh and you couldn't help the lovesick little expression you gave him, "you're going to be the death of me, you know? You're just trouble."

"But the good kind, I hope?" you were sure there were other people around there needed to be helped for once but you were more than happy to let your coworkers step in and help for once. At least tonight. Javier made a small sound before playfully shrugging, "Javier!"

"Yes," he promised after a few beats of playful silence passed between the two of you, "the best kind, sweetheart."

"Consider your drinks on the house tonight," you went to go and grab a glass but he caught your wrist and stopped you, "Javi?"

"This is probably stupid of me to ask," he sighed for just a moment, more at the situation than anything else and you raised an eyebrow, "but do you want to go out sometime? Maybe not for a drink but…something?"

"Are you asking me on a date?" you blinked at him with wide eyes, almost unsure if you'd heard him correctly.

"Umm…yes?" His first thought was that he had fucked something up, "but only if you want to of course. No pressure-"

"Yes," you cut him off as soon as the realization of what he had said hit you, "yes. I'd love you to."

"Really?" You were surprised that he seemed so surprised. Had he not gotten the very strong signals you'd been putting out? You thought you were being so obvious this whole time.

"Really," you promised, "I was wondering if you were going to ask."

"You-" he paused for a moment before laughing softly, "you are something else."

"I am," you gave him a cheeky wink, "you'll find out. But Javi - I really like you too."

"When are you free?"

You looked around the bar and decided it was empty enough, "now?"

"Now?" He repeated and the two of you grinned at each other like fools, but you nodded, "now is perfect."

"Let's go!"

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x fem!reader #pedro pascal #javier pena one shot #javier pena imagine

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from anon and some of my own ideas that had to be written down because Loki demanded it. This is technically Part II to this Imagine!

Words: 2492 Warnings: implied smut, biting

Your hair was still wet when you got out of the water, your back numb from the gushing waterfall Loki had kept you pressed against while fucking the life out of you and you were sprawled out on the blanket. Loki conjured a soft towel for you both to dry off and afterward, you ended up leaning against his chest as he fed you some of the grapes and read you passages of the book he had brought. It didn’t matter you couldn’t understand Old Norse—his voice was mesmerising either way and certainly the best form of aftercare you’d ever had.

Hours must have gone by. Hours filled with even more sex, passion, and some of the most profound conversations you had had in a while.

But once the sun began to set and the lagoon got darker and darker, Loki stirred and you, much to your dismay, decided to return to the palace through the stables to go unnoticed.

“Thor will decapitate me.”

“As if you care what Thor thinks,” you said, chuckling.

Loki smirked. “I don’t. But I do quite fancy my head, pet.”

Pet. There it was again. Before your mind could swoon over his new nickname for you, you were interrupted by a cute and boyish voice the very moment you entered the stables.

“Prince Loki! Shall I prepare your horse for you?”

The stable boy emerged from behind a wooden wall carrying a pitchfork. He was sweaty from the manual labour and his clothes were filthy from working with the horses. He was cute though. You could tell he had a heart for animals straight away.

“No need, Edri. I’m just passing through. Avoiding attention, you understand.”

“Of c—oh. You brought company. Oh…” He paused, blushing. “You brought beautiful company.”

You smiled at him but not without noticing how Loki tensed up right next to you. His arm came up to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to make a statement. Edri immediately cleared his throat and forcefully ripped his gaze away from you.

“Well then… I haven’t seen either of you, my prince.”

“Thank you.”

“Loki? Can I see your horse?”

“I’ve just fed her. She’s right over there?” Edri offered before he could answer.

Loki gave you a smirk and a defeated sigh. “Very well.”

The experience did not disappoint. After Edri led you into one of the boxes, you were greeted by one of the most beautiful black mares you had ever laid your eyes upon. She seemed friendly—and she immediately let you touch her and even neighed in delight when Edri slid you an apple to feed to her.

“What’s her name?”

“Skelmir—it’s Old Norse for Trickster,” Loki answered.

You chuckled. “So she’s as mischievous as you then?”

“Occasionally.” He winked.

“She likes you. Skelmir is one of the shyer horses around here,” Edri explained. “Animals can tell if one has a good heart.” His gaze was soft and gentle—and it lingered long enough to make Loki seethe, it seemed.

“We should head inside now. Shall we? Edri.” His voice was stern and you chuckled once more, realising with a start that Loki was jealous the stable boy was flirting with you. There was no real danger here, of course—he was cute but it was Loki who had stolen your heart. But you were flattered. The fact that he was jealous meant he cared, right?

You nodded, tearing your mesmerised glance off of Skelmir, and followed Loki back into the palace. Not even a moment later, an aggressive voice echoed through the palace walls.

“Loki!”

Loki sighed. “What?”

You both turned, facing a fuming Thor.

“Where were you two? The entire palace was looking for you!” The God of Thunder spoke your name reproachfully. “You were supposed to remain supervised, Father said—“

“I was supervised,” you offered.

“By Loki! There is a reason we have asked you to stay away from him.”

“Oh, please.” What’s the worst thing I could do? Sleep with him? You grinned at your thought.

“Where did you even go? Why is your hair wet?”

Neither of you answered and Thor sighed. “Well, what’s done is done, I just hope Loki didn’t twist your head with his nonsense too much.” Your grin grew even wider—and Loki joined in. Part of you wanted to tell Thor, just to see his reaction but perhaps for now, it was for the best not to tell him that you had quite literally fucked the God of Mischief.

“We’re having a midsummer celebration in the throne room tonight. Everybody is welcome.”

You turned to Loki. “What’s that gonna be like?”

“Drinking, dancing, eating, and karaoke. Surprisingly, it’s not too different from celebrations on Midgard.”

“Karaoke? On Asgard? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Well, I’d dare assume the songs we sing are nothing like what you are used to from Midgard but essentially, the concept is the same.”

“I won’t miss that then. But only if you get up there and sing too,” you teased, grinning at him. Thor tilted his head in confusion, clearly not used to somebody being all flirty with his adopted brother.

“I’ll have a maid sent to the guest chambers to dress you for the occasion,” Loki said. And with that, and perhaps to not raise even more suspicion in Thor, he walked off with a final wink.

You didn’t realise how hungry you were until the maid came knocking on your door about an hour later, a selection of dresses in her hands—the decision was quickly made to wear the green one she had brought. It took her half an hour to get your still a little damp hair situated before finally, she escorted you to the throne room that had transformed into what could only be described as a food hall.

Your eyes scanned the room and you smiled awkwardly when Volstagg waved at you.

“Looking for someone in particular?” Loki offered, appearing behind you. Your heart skipped a beat and you spun around, joining him at the table he led you to. The other people chatting away and drinking there you did not recognise but that wasn’t important. Not even the fact that Volstagg and the others looked downright shocked upon you choosing to sit with Loki rather than with them mattered.

“You look beautiful, pet. One could mistake you for an Asgardian.”

“Thank you. I’ll blend in then. Is that the stage for the karaoke?” You pointed at an elevated platform next to the throne.

“It is indeed,” Loki said while a maid came by to pour you drinks.

“I don’t see a microphone.”

“You don’t need one. The stage is enhanced with magic. Once you step on it, your voice will be heard across the entire throne room.”

You clinked your glasses and then, the celebrations began.

You got tipsy fast, the Asgardian mead messing with your mind only one drink in. Loki needed a few more to let go. You learned from one of the men sitting at the table with you that Loki used to be the most hedonistic party guest one could possibly invite to a celebration.

You did not doubt it—because after a few more drinks, Loki stumbled on stage and sang an Old Norse song. He even changed to lyrics of the chorus to English so you could sing, clap and dance along and just for once, it seemed, all was well.

No one was judging him for attempting to take over Earth but rather for how much mead he’d already downed. You’d possibly never had this much fun in your life. And even though you’d refrained from singing a song yourself, you soon found yourself in Loki’s arms, dancing like there was no tomorrow.

The sexual tension between you grew with every beat until eventually, the God of Mischief leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Let me take you to my chambers, pet.”

You nodded with wide eyes, unable to ignore the wanton pulsing between your legs. Next thing you knew, you were on Loki’s bed on his armchair in his chambers, kissing him senseless.

“Loki…” you mumbled against his lips. “I wanna…” Another kiss, leaving you breathless.

“Wanna suck you off…” you choked out. Loki pulled away for a moment, surprise evident on his gorgeous face. He tilted his head with parted lips.

“You truly are the most peculiar mortal I have ever met.”

You grinned. “Would you say I’m also the most endearing one?”

Fuck, you felt like a teenager again. Loki and you spent half the night making out, exploring each other’s bodies, and coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of one another. By morning, he was familiar with every square inch of your skin and the soreness between your legs… it spoke for itself when you opened your eyes in his chambers when the sun was up again, naked, satisfied, and happy. Heavens, you’d spent the night making love to a god, after all! Life couldn’t get any better than that… right?

You rolled over, briefly distracted by a stinging pain in your neck. Ouch. Loki had gotten quite rough at some point last night, attacking your sensitive skin with his teeth and sucking and nibbling wherever his mouth had landed on.

“Good morning, pet…” Loki purred.

You smiled sleepily. “Good morning.” You sighed. “I want to spend the entire day in bed,” you stated. But then, your stomach growled.

Loki chuckled. “I’d dare say your body disagrees and needs sustenance after all the… activities last night.”

Reluctantly, you got out of bed. He was not wrong. You were starving. You walked over to the mirror naked, examining the hickeys he gave you last night. The one on your neck wasn’t a hickey though. It was an actual bite mark.

“Shit, Loki, I had no idea you’d be so kinky in bed.” You chuckled, practically admiring it. Loki came up behind you, his hands stroking over your upper arms as his blue gaze crossed yours in the reflection.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not more than hickey, surprisingly. I suppose you don’t have make-up here to cover this up though? That’d be easier than explaining to the rest of Asgard why the Earth girl suddenly has a bite mark on her neck.”

Loki waved his hand and the bruise disappeared. “Wait, did you…”

“It’s still there. I’ve concealed it. We can head to the healing room once you’re dressed.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Loki!”

The banging on the door that followed had the God of Mischief sigh.

“Loki, I know you’re in there! There’s someone here to see you. You have a lot of explaining to do, brother!”

Loki frowned.

“Who?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I don’t normally get visitors from other realms. At least none that announce themselves officially and march straight through the palace doors. Get dressed, pet. I shall take you to the healing room right after.”

You nodded, putting on the clothes he conjured for you, and gave your hair a quick brush before you followed him outside, making sure that nobody saw you leaving his chambers. You made your way through sun-kissed hallways. It was a beautiful morning and you could already smell the Asgardian delicacies waiting to fill your tummy.

Still, you were curious about who Loki’s mysterious and unannounced visitor was. So you joined him, pushing the thought of breakfast to the back of your mind for now. In sight came a blonde woman with a suit of armour very similar to Loki’s, a guard right next to her to ensure she didn’t pose a threat.

“Who is that?” you whispered.

Loki swallowed thickly, his lips parted. His voice was a mix of relief and surprise. “That… Sylvie.”

“Your Asgard doesn’t look too different from mine, actually,” she said by way of a greeting.

“What are you doing here?”

“What, are you not happy to see me?” she mocked. Loki pulled her into an embrace. You felt a twang of jealousy inside of you.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay. Come in. And tell me what you’ve been up to. Have you heard from Mobius?”

“Not yet. Communication is a bit brittle across time and space. I have a lead on Renslayer though. You won’t like to hear it but she was last seen with Kang.”

“Great. So that’s another problem on our growing list.”

“Who’s that?” Sylvie nodded toward you and all of a sudden, you felt self-conscious about yourself. You lifted your chin in a feeble attempt to feign confidence.

You told her your name before Loki could answer, followed by a quick explanation as to why you were here. “And who exactly are you?” you asked then.

“She’s… me,” Loki answered for her. “Well, not exactly me but one of my Variants—from another corner of the multiverse, if you will.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Sometimes I wish I was, pet.”

“Pet? What’s going on?” Sylvie scanned your form—then, her eyes fell on your neck. “Is that… You idiot! You marked her?”

You frowned. How could she even see it? But you supposed that if she was a Loki, then she was able to see right through his concealment. “What? What does that mean?”

“She’s human, Loki! It’s a miracle she’s even alive!”

Loki glared at her, daring her to keep speaking all the while your confusion kept growing. Marked you? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Can we speak about this in private? Preferably where not the entire palace can hear us?”

“Loki, what does she mean?”

“The bite mark of a Frost Giant,” Sylvie explained coldly, “it’s like a magical seal that signifies a partnership between two Frost Giants.”

“So… what… does that mean I have magic in my veins right now?”

Sylvie ignored you. “What were you thinking, Loki?”

“I was drunk!”

“Of course you were.”

“Oh, don’t think for a second I wouldn’t have done this had I not been. She’s fine.”

Just this morning, you had asked yourself what exactly Loki and you were. Calling him your boyfriend seemed inappropriate but quite apparently, you now had an answer to your question. Partner.

Loki did not seem like the type of person who would sleep with just anyone. Having fun and giving pleasure was one thing but even then… the God of Mischief surely was selective with his lovers. You bit your lower lip. You hadn’t known about the meaning of this bite mark but you couldn’t say you minded it. If that was his way of making you his, you’d receive it with open arms. You could only imagine the exciting kind of future you’d have with Loki—even if it would take a while to convince whoever this Sylvie was that just because you were human, that didn’t mean you’d let anyone mess with you or keep you away from the cheeky God of Mischief.

A/N: Come check out my blog if you like for more Imagines and my novels! ♥

#loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki #thor #thor imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #mcu imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #loki show #loki series #loki series imagine #loki show imagine #tom hiddleston

[pellaaearien]

Hey so here’s a really mean Sandman thought I had...

I just finished reading The Kindly Ones for the first time. (Yeah.) And I must say, it was a very interesting experience from the perspective of someone who both watched the show first and has also been hanging around deeply into fandom enough that I’ve absorbed spoilers/meta/whatever else surrounding the end of the comics before reading them to draw my own conclusions.

Now I have. And I think I’ve come to some interesting ones.

First off, naturally, Neil Gaiman has written the ultimate tragedy. Everything comes full circle, every decision made with the best possible intentions has the worst possible outcome, and it was always going to be this way. It’s a masterstroke, and as I read I was less sad than admiring at the completeness of it, the way everything slots into place so neatly.

Ever since I spoiled myself for the ending (which I’m glad I did,) I’ve read quite a bit of Kindly Ones meta. Many words have been spilled around the subject of “if someone had just SEEN what was wrong...” but MANY people did! Fiddler’s Green. Matthew. Nuala. And, of course, Hob, who Dream walks out on - again - because he’s being too perceptive. Again.

I was also reading the book with the foreknowledge that this is all an elaborate suicide plot on the part of Dream. After all, as Death says at the end, “the only reason you got yourself into this mess is because this is where you wanted to be.” And, later, when Dream says he has made all the preparations necessary, “You’ve been making them for ages. You just didn’t let yourself know that was what you were doing.” To which Dream replies, “if you say so.”

So we have lots of people saying lots of things about Dream, but what do Dream’s actions say for themselves? Because I must admit, reading the book knowing how it was going to end threw a lot of those assumptions into a new light.

Let’s go back to the conversation with Death. Dream says: “I did not plan this, my sister. I had imagined that I would be able to keep events here in check. I intended to play a waiting game, in which, ultimately, no harm was done.”

This I believe. One of the things that never sat right with me was Dream sitting back and letting his creations suffer, if his intention all along was to destroy himself. I don’t believe that’s in character for Dream in any incarnation.

What was Dream’s motivation? Dream is tired. He says so himself. He’s been tired for a long time, probably even before his imprisonment and having to basically remake the Dreaming and since then he hasn’t had a moment’s peace, what with Season of Mists and Orpheus and everything else. I think meeting Daniel planted the seed in his mind, that there was an out. As Death says, “...the stuff you do. Where you do it, and you won’t even admit to yourself it’s what you’re doing.” 

Meeting Daniel was that moment for Dream. Someone who could take over his responsibilities in the Dreaming. He can’t just walk away, like Destruction and Lucifer. That’s not who he is. I think Dream’s plan was to wait for Daniel to grow up some, and then... something. ??? profit. Maybe he would’ve gone to the Fates himself and taken their punishment for Orpheus. (Because he does, as Nuala astutely points out, want to be punished for Orpheus).

BUT, Daniel gets stolen while he’s still a baby. So Dream sends Matthew and the newly-remade Corinthian after him. Lyta, meanwhile, instigates the Furies, so now they’re on a ticking clock.

(I don’t, personally, think that Dream freed Loki with the intention of setting all this in motion, but that’s up to reader interpretation.)

Dream makes preparations. It certainly seems like he’s making peace with the fact of his death. He visits Nada (a small boy in Hong Kong), does a census of the Dreaming, acknowledges his servants, feeds pigeons, examines his properties in the waking world, and reviews various treaties and agreements to which the Dreaming is subject. He is responsible. He’s getting his affairs in order in case things don’t fall the way he expects them to.

When his Griffin is killed, Dream tells Furies: “I can create another, who would not even know that it had ever died.” Cold, perhaps, but very in keeping with the type of backwards kindness we’ve seen from Dream throughout the series. He also says: “This is my world, ladies. I control it, I am responsible for it. You with neither destroy it nor will you destroy me.”

The last part, as we know, is simply true. The Dreaming can be restored endlessly, and even if the facet known as Morpheus is destroyed, Dream will continue. But it’s the first part that’s significant. I control it, I am responsible for it. That part says to me that he would not allow his creations to suffer. He is responsible for them. And yes, he could restore them with a thought, but why bother? If he’s trying to get himself killed, why doesn’t the story just end here and now? With the Furies and Dream alone in his throne room?

Clearly, he’s waiting for Daniel. He can’t allow himself to be removed without a successor in place. Once the Furies leave, he immediately calls Matthew for an update. Matthew comments on how cold Dream sounds - he’s feeling the pressure.

Fiddler’s Green is killed. Does Dream say “I can create another?” No. He immediately goes in search of Lyta, to hopefully negate the wrath of the Furies. A stopgap, as the Furies would find another avatar in time, but Dream is taking action. He is not passively letting his doom collapse around his ears.

He’s foiled by Thessaly (all my homies hate Thessaly). While they are estranged exes, Thessaly admits that protecting Lyta from Dream was “not entirely” to hurt him: she struck a deal with the Three for a bit more life. Hurting Dream was an added bonus. She knows Dream well enough that he won’t break the rules in order to kill Lyta.

Dream is visibly upset by this. He won’t break the rules, but Thessaly’s actions (and his own, by extension) mean that more destruction will be wrought in the Dreaming. Lucien takes him to task for it:

Lucien asks why he isn’t restoring the things the Furies destroyed, but it makes sense to halt the source of the destruction first, rather than needing to fix things over and over again. Dream is at a loss. His plan was foiled and now he has no way to hold off the Furies. And Daniel is still missing. He could summon his sister right now (as he says, “by his own hand or another’s”) but that would leave the Dreaming in disarray, and he won’t do that.

Now to add Nuala’s summons into the mix. While Death will later point out that yes, Dream could have rejected the summons, I think it’s important to remember that he does actually try, at first:

“I must most earnestly beseech you...” That is begging. That is literal begging from Dream of the Endless, and it doesn’t stop there.  “You do me a disservice, Nuala,” Dream says, after Nuala quotes his promise back to him. He tries to get out of it! But Nuala won’t let him, throws his words in his face, and thereby seals his fate. Because Dream of the Endless, if nothing else, keeps his word, follows the rules. As he says later: “If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves.” 

He can’t just leave his realm like Destruction. He can’t ignore the rules and kill Lyta anyway. He can’t go back on his word and reject Nuala’s summons. If he did that, he would no longer be Dream.

So, he sets Daniel up in his new role as best as he can with the time he has left, and then he takes his sister’s hand to prevent any further damage to the Dreaming. Death accuses him of planning the whole thing, and perhaps that’s true. Perhaps he saw where the pieces were laid on the board and manipulated them to his advantage. I certainly don’t deny that ever since Orpheus he had intended to take himself out of the picture, one way or another. But I truly don’t think he meant for it to happen like this. I don’t see him as a cold-hearted chessmaster, forcing himself into a corner until he has no way out, with his creations’ existences hanging in the balance. I think he had a plan, and tried to stick to the plan as best he could, as the true tragedy spun into place around him: it was always going to happen like this.

Are y’all ready for the mean thought?

Because thinking about it this way, if truly all he wanted was a way out, he could have expedited the process at any point. As I hope I have shown here, to the contrary, his behaviour reads to me as someone who held out until the absolute bitter end, until he literally had no other choice. What are we to make of this? On the one hand, we have Death’s accusation about  “...the stuff you do. Where you do it, and you won’t even admit to yourself it’s what you’re doing.” Maybe that’s true. Death knows Dream, and knows what she’s talking about.

On the other hand, we have a scene, way back at the beginning, with Hob. (Hob who, incidentally, doesn’t seem all that surprised to see Dream outside the confines of their century meetings, given that he thought their toast during Season of Mists was a dream, but I digress.) (Dream also goes to see Hob the instant there’s any inkling of trouble, again, as he does in Season of Mists, but I digress a second time.) And Hob is, as in 1889, too perceptive by half. As Dream is walking away, Hob says:

“You take care of yourself.”

What if Dream went to Hob, knowing his friend, being perceptive, would guess that something was up?

What if he just wanted to be reminded that someone cared whether or not something happened to him?

He gave Hob a promise that he would take care of himself. And so he did, in the face of overwhelming odds. (Odds that he may or may not have set in motion himself, true, but that just makes it more extraordinary.) Until he couldn’t any more. Until taking care of the Dreaming took precedence over taking care of the aspect, Morpheus.

Because Dream of the Endless always keeps his word.

#the sandman meta #the kindly ones #dreamling

[starry-eyes-love]

Chapter 6- You're Forever Mine

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary | Things finally boil to a steaming head between you and Joel. After much discussion Joel decides to spend the night sleeping next to you to help calm you. He reads you a steamy bedtime story and then holds you after you wake up from a horrible nightmare (please read warnings about nightmare below before reading). You get a major dark glimpse into the reader's past and how she met Joel (he's the savior in her story). 

Important Note:  This chapter has a lot of very graphic scenes that are mentioned that happen to the f!reader during a dreamstate nightmare flashback. If you don’t want to read about these types of details, then skip the flashback scene at the Boston QZ five years prior in the story.  You can still understand the story without reading the flashback scene. See warnings below. 

Words: 12.0 K (I’m not sorry)

“Baby, if you can’t see why, then I’ve really screwed up. If ya can't see why I want you darlin’, then I don’t deserve you in my life. I’m not Dave honey, I never have been, nor ever will be.  If you can’t see that then please honey, just let me go and see my daughter. I don’t want to be in a world where you think I’m a monster. Please.”

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI for whole story

Flashback: Dark content during flashback with David (aka Dave): language, vio!ence, abu$e mentions several types, name calling, degrading references, death, b!ood and gore (please see note above, you have been warned this is very dark content). 

Rest of story: Smut, language, Joel begging (it deserves it’s own warning), heavy knife references, references to abuse, tension (a lot scattered about), Joel referencing death and death of his daughter, angst, f fingering, m handjob, a lot of smutty parts (you have been warned), use of the word ‘love’, Joel and the reader being an ass (hey it’s relationship dynamics), Joel reading smut out loud to F!Reader (yeah, we’re doing it), fluffy parts sprinkled in, breast feeding kink via smutty book read from Joel, size kink, daddy kink, age gap (not disclosed), body reference (without being too specific), g spot reference, name calling (baby, honey, little girl, etc.)…and I think that is it.  Finally the heat is turning up with these two. Enjoy :) 

Story

Joel was wound up tight, stressed, and not in a good way. This thing between the two of you was starting to boil to a head and he didn't like it. He hated this back and forth that was going on. He hated that he didn't know from one day to the next if he was going to scream at you for fucking up his life, even in the best possible way. Or if he was going to give in and fuck you, just to get out all of his pent up frustration.  God, he needed to relieve himself. It had been way too long, and this constant edging between the two of you was giving him the worst case of blue balls that he could ever imagine. He wanted to bury himself so badly inside of you, throw caution out of the window and give in to his body's needs to have you. That was what it was now, a deep rooted need to release all of his anxiety, anger, and pent up frustration of trying to be the good guy for you.

Joel wasn't a good man, he knew it. Sure, at one time he could be gentle, tender, and loving. He suspected that those emotions were still buried deep inside of him. But ever since the world went to shit, Joel had to survive. He had to kill people in order to survive, and he'll do it again if he must. But you, you were different. You were kind, soft, gentle, but also a fierce woman. There was no one on this Earth that Joel feared more than you, especially when you were pissed off at him. 

Joel saw first hand how you handled frustration. You'd bottle it up inside and then explode later. He'd seen how you’d kill people with your knife, how you'd keep stabbing them long after they were dead to release that anger that you had. An anger that he was just starting to understand. People wronged you in life, took your innocence far before they should have. This fact made Joel want to scream and see red whenever he thought about it. People had prayed upon you, took advantage of you at your weakest, and he wasn't ever going to let that happen again.

Joel also hated seeing you feel weak. It didn't bother him that you couldn't do everything, hell Joel couldn't grow plants, and yet here you were making it work slowly in the house. You had your strengths; the ability to find things hidden, anticipate things, and even take a mothering role with Ellie.  But one of your best abilities, Joel thought, was your ability to get underneath his goddamn skin and drive him crazy. This fact alone pissed him off, but also excited him because he loved your fire, attitude, and passion in life. The worst part, you knew you had this effect on him.

Joel was lost in thought, thinking about you when you were showing Ellie how to string together a bow and how to sharpen a knife. God, it turned him on to hear you direct her on how to stab and kill people.  He knew that you could survive in this world, even if he wasn’t around.  Most men wouldn’t like this type of independence or fierceness, but for Joel, this was the biggest turn on. The only thing that he wished for was for your nightmares to quit haunting you.

"And you turn it like this to secure it" you said to Ellie, showing Ellie how to finish attaching the string for a bow.

"That's so fucking cool y/n. Joel, you did a great job showing her this," Ellie said looking at the bow amazed.

"Not my doing Ellie, that's something she knew all on her own." Joel said, taking a slow sip of the whiskey that he was holding, a small find he got from the cellar outside.

"Seriously? You knew something Joel didn't?" Ellie asked, looking at you shocked. 

"Who do you think taught him how to thread it?" you said with a smirk.

Ellie glanced over at Joel, who started to blush and rub the back of his neck in embarrassment.  "Don't make fun of me darlin’" he said, shaking his head and laughing at how shocked Ellie looked that you had actually taught him how to do something. 

"But Joel, I thought you like knew everything," Ellie said, pushing his buttons on purpose.

"I don't know everything, never have kid. And you,” he said shaking a finger at you, “Stop that damn smiling and laughing over there." You were quietly sitting on the floor next to Ellie, softly laughing to yourself at Ellie's statement, watching her push Joel’s buttons. The amusement of this entire situation was just as much for your enjoyment as it was hers.

"Didn't say anything" you said, trying to keep a straight face, but failing miserably.

"Look here smartass, I may not know how to make what you're doing" he said waving his hand, jestering towards the bow. "But you better believe I know how to shoot that darn thing." And with that you stopped laughing and got up. Shooting a bow was always a touchy subject, one that Joel knew you had.

You walked to the kitchen and started washing your hands, not that you needed to, but it was something to do to get your hands to calm down at the memory. Joel could sense your unease as Ellie continued teasing him.  Joel was only half listening to her, the person he was paying attention to was you.  He saw the way your breathing spiked and became labored, he also saw how your hands were shaking when you went past him. At the sink he saw you vigorously rub your hands underneath the water, acting like you were trying to wash off the signs of blood, which he knew was yours that you were seeing and remembering. Damn it, he thought, she’s having another fucking flashback.

As Ellie continued talking, Joel stood up and approached you slowly in the kitchen. When he approached you and saw that you were still rubbing your hands fast together, scrubbing hard and not acknowledging him, he slowly wrapped his arms around you. He placed his hands on top of yours under the water and said "leave it baby. He's not here. Come on.”  Joel then shut off the water, took your hands that were still trembling, and turned you into his chest. As he slowly caged you in his arms he began to slowly rub his hand up and down your back, humming that little tune to you that he did all of those years before. 

What you didn't realize was that you were shaking so bad in Joel’s arms that Ellie had noticed.  Ellie approached the pair of you and said "Joel is she ok? She's shaking really bad and she looks like she's-"

"She's fine Ellie, don't worry” you heard Joel say. When you glanced up at him you felt a single tear leave your eye, and a horrible tremor went through your body at the memory of the last time you attempted to shoot a bow. “You're ok, shh I got you" Joel said, while tucking you gently back into his chest, and wrapping you up in his arms. “Just listen to my voice baby, just me” and then he began slowly humming that song to you again.  

As he continued to comfort you, you felt him gently sway you back and forth, rubbing your back, and planting kisses to the top of your head. Your mind was so far in the past that you didn’t hear Joel tell Ellie to give you guys a few minutes alone. The only thing that you could hear was the ringing in your ears at a memory that you wanted to forget.  ‘Stupid bitch. *Smack* I'll teach you a fucking lesson. *Smack, Smack.*’  Even after all these years, you still could feel the sting on your skin from the abuse Dave did. As soon as you involuntarily flinched at the memory of a hard hand to your face, you felt Joel tighten his grip around you while saying "it's gone. He's gone. You're safe with me baby, shhh. It's ok," and then he went back to humming that song that you loved until the memory of Dave left you once again.

You didn't know how long you stood there embraced in Joel’s arms before you heard him say "do ya want me to sleep next to you tonight baby?" When you didn’t answer he pulled away and then gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. "Might make the bad nightmares stay away if I sleep next to you honey," he continued in a soothing voice. You had to admit, not sleeping next to Joel has made the nightmares come back with a vengeance. You haven't hardly slept in weeks, which meant you were more susceptible to bad dreams and horrible flashbacks.

"I don't want to be a burden on you," you said.

"Ain't a burden love, never have been."

"Joel I-" you began to say before Joel interrupted you.

"Come on, let's get you tucked into bed darlin,' you look exhausted." Joel then took your hand and led you into your bedroom, holding your hand the entire way. Once inside of your bedroom he quickly got you situated sitting on the bed. “Hang on a sec,” he said and then disappeared back down the hall.  After a few moments Joel reappeared with a worn out old flannel. He handed it to you and said "here, put this on. It’s mine and I know you like the way I smell."

Slightly embarrassed and turning a shade of red you took his flannel and said “thanks.” You did like how Joel smelled, but you didn’t think he knew it. “We both are getting comfortable tonight love” he said as he chucked a set of comfy pajamas for himself on the bed. 

"Wow, aren't we both domestic" you said, shaking your head at seeing Joel change into an old T-shirt and fuzzy pajama pants. 

“Yeah, well, I need it. And by the looks of ya, so do you darlin.’” Joel smirked as he unbuckled his pants and slowly took them off while looking at you. You knew you needed to turn away, but when you noticed Joel removing his boxers, you couldn't help but stare. God he was big. You could see that even in his softened state that his cock hung heavy between his legs. You didn't realize that you were staring with a slightly open mouth until you heard his Southern drawl.

“Baby, nothin’ good comes outta you looking at me like that. Come on, eyes up here darlin.’” Joel said teasing you.

You immediately felt embarrassed at what you were doing, starring at a grown man’s crotch.  Yes he was your boyfriend, but you didn’t have that type of relationship with him at the moment.  “Oh God Joel, I’m so sorry” you said, burying your head in your hands and turning 20 shades of red.

Joel chuckled and said “Baby, I love you looking. But I don't think it's the proper answer right now to our problems of lack of sleep between the both of us. So come on, let's get you changed and tucked into bed honey.”  When you didn’t move Joel walked up to you and gently grabbed your hands and said “Come on, arms up for me.”  When you slowly raised your arms above your head, Joel lifted your shirt up as you kept your eyes closed.

“Angel, open your eyes and look at me” he gently whispered.  When you did, you found that he met you with dark intense eyes, like a wolf who just found his prey. As you looked at him you noticed that he lightly licked his lips while he eye fucked you. You noticed that he slowly looked down your chest, tracing the curve of your breasts with his eyes.  When you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor, Joel just about fainted.  

“Fuuck” Joel growled, looking at you standing before him with nothing covering your chest. If he was a better man he'd turn around and give you privacy, but he wasn't. It had been too long since he had a beautiful woman standing before him half naked. When you slowly bent down and pulled off your pants and panties, Joel almost came right there on the spot. 

As you stood in front of Joel completely naked, you found yourself slowly tracing your hands along your curves. You cupped your breasts and said “do you want to touch them?” as you slowly twisted your nipple while letting out a soft moan. 

“Baby, you- you can’t do this. Fuck woman, I’m-I’m not gonna be able to-” Joel said, slowly reaching out to touch you, but stopping midway before he did. He wanted to put his hands overtop yours, to feel the softness of your plump breasts underneath his callused hands. But Joel knew he couldn't, while shaking his head he said in a low voice “look at me scolding ya about starring, and I’m doing no different. Finish getting dressed, and let's go to bed baby.”  

With a satisfied smirk you turned your back to place on his flannel, and then buttoned it up. You decided to forgo putting your bra back on. You grabbed a pair of clean black lace panties, a rare find but something that you were glad you found in storage. As you turned around you saw Joel staring at you wide eyed. “Baby, I- that’s not” he said, glancing between your chest and ass. He was trying to figure out how he was supposed to sleep next to you tonight, knowing you were practically naked next to him.

“Look here cowboy,” you said in a sarcastic tone. “I ain’t sleeping fully clothed so you can just fuck right off now if ya think I should.” When you approached your side of the bed, you froze.  Chewing on your lip for a moment you finally asked, “is it safe for us to be dressed like this and all relaxed Joel?” You stared down at yourself, picking at the edges of your clothes, thinking that how you were dressed was both silly and stupid. 

When Joel glanced over at you, he noticed your meek expression, lack of confidence, and the fact that you were chewing on your lip in a worried state.  Sleeping fully relaxed in this world wasn’t something anyone could afford to do anymore, but he knew it was something that you both desperately needed tonight.  "I put up new defenses around here. I also installed two deadbolt locks to the door. I think for one night we can let our guard down a bit. I don't know about you baby, but I need one night where I'm not on the fucking edge. I'm so wound up honey that I-”. That's when Joel saw it, fear mixed with longing behind your eyes, and that was a dangerous combination. With clearing his throat he added, “ya darlin’, it’s safe for tonight.”

Joel wasn't kidding about needing to be comfortable.  He had reading glasses, a book, and a lamp that was turned on, giving the room a soft glow.  When he sat down, he sat with his back against the wall. His rifle and his knife were set next to the bed, just in case. After he was situated, he looked over at you and said "come on baby, come to bed" while patting your side of the bed.

Shaking your head and giggling slightly you said, "I never would have thought in a million years that Mr. Joel Miller would actually say 'come on baby, come to bed.’ Kind of a special occasion, if ya ask me."

Joel glared at you and then quipped, "ok smartass, just lay down and don’t give me any more of your sass."

Smiling to yourself at his little quip, you laid down next to him, facing him. After you got situated, Joel tucked the blankets over you, bent down, and kissed the top of your head saying "now go to sleep baby." He then put his reading glasses on as he sat there and silently started reading to himself. 

As you laid there you listened to Joel slowly breathe. You focused on trying to match your breaths with his, and in time you felt yourself finally starting to relax. The longer Joel read, the more you saw his muscles unclench, and his brows unfurrow. You laid there curled up in his flannel, holding the sleeve up by your nose, while slowly inhaling his scent. Joel was right, you did love the way he smelled.  He smelled of pine, cinnamon, wood, and Joel.  An intoxicating scent that left your head spinning, but also something that you could describe as home. You were somewhat in a daze, thinking about stuff that has recently happened when all of a sudden you heard Joel say, "Ya need to stop thinking so hard." 

"What?" You said, slightly shaking your head in an attempt to focus.

"You're thinking too hard darlin’," he said, still reading his book.

"How am I thinking too hard?"

"Baby, you're breathing hard, shifting your legs, and sighing to yourself."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize that I was doing any of that" you replied in a meek voice.

"S'alright darlin'. What were ya thinking about anyways?" When you didn’t respond, Joel stopped and looked over at you. 

"Just wondering where you found those glasses" was all that you said.

Joel cocked his head saying "that’s bullshit darlin'. That's not what's got ya all twisted up. But to answer your question, I found these in the cellar outside. They're regular reading glasses, and just so happens they’re the type of ones I need.” Joel then returned to reading his book.  

You laid there quietly, chewing on your lip and thinking about some things that were bugging you a lot recently.  Somehow Joel must have seen you out of his peripheral vision as he said with a sigh, “So what are you really thinking 'bout?"

“Just wondering what you’re reading?” you said, pressing your thighs together, not wanting to voice your actual true concerns. Laying this close to Joel wasn’t helping your sex drive.  You haven’t been able to get yourself off recently due to how stressed out you were. But tonight your mind kept wandering to what Joel looked like when he changed in front of you, and you wondered how he'd feel again inside of you. You couldn't believe how delicious his cock looked, all hanging heavy between his legs.  You could practically feel the rush of arousal out of you when you saw him earlier. You didn’t think that telling Joel, nor asking for his help, would be appropriate tonight. You remembered how he dealt with your starring earlier.  He told you that you two shouldn't do anything, and for you to stop.

Joel looked over at you as you kept shifting under the covers. He knew that you really didn't want to know what he was reading. But Joel wasn’t in the mood to argue with you tonight. Replying with a bit more sarcasm than he intended Joel said, “a book darlin.’ I’m reading a damn book.”

“No shit sherlock, I know you’re reading a book Joel” you said with a sarcastic eye roll.  After a moment of shifting around uncomfortably again you added, “can you, um, maybe read it to me out loud?”

Joel froze and looked over at you. “Darlin’, this ain’t one of those types of books.”

“I know what type of book it is Joel, Jesus. I know the author. She likes little Westerns that have two people- um. You know they- uh. They-

“Fuck.” Joel said, finally looking down at you with one eyebrow raised.

“W-what?” you said, looking back up at him with innocent eyes.

“She has them fuck darlin’, is that what you’re trying so hard not to say? You're fumbling with your words and acting worse than a toddler trying to talk.” he said, while closing the book and looking at you. 

“Jesus Joel, an asshole much?” you snapped, completely turning red at his reference. Tonight was just not your night, so you turned away from Joel and laid there facing the other direction. You mumbled under your breath “you know, you can just fuck off. You don’t even understand what it feels like to not have someone want to fuck you, or to not be able to get yourself off.” 

If Joel had to describe your mood tonight it would be moody, emotional, and down right irritating.  Of course he understood what it was like to want to be with someone.  Jesus, you were wearing his flannel with black panties on with no bra.  He hadn’t had sex with anyone, specifically you, in months. He's attempted to get himself off, but again hasn't been able to. He also understood what it felt like to be frustrated, and God damnit, he wanted to smack some sense into your ass at that statement you just said. God help me, this woman is trying my fucking patience tonight, he thought.

For the next several minutes you heard Joel silently turning the pages of his book.  Usually the silence wouldn't bother you, but tonight your nerves were on fire. All you wanted was for your so-called boyfriend to kiss you, make out with you, do something to take away these weird feelings that you had. You were hopeful that laying in bed next to him was going to lead to maybe some other things.  Hell, that’s why you agreed to lay next to him in the first place. But apparently Joel wasn’t interested.  Truth be told, he never really was interested in you anymore.  So with another big sigh, you realized that you were just going to be sexually frustrated for a while. Yeah, great, fucking perfect.

Joel was attempting to unwind by reading the book he held.  God, he was wired.  He was so turned on and sexually frustrated by watching you earlier that he wanted nothing more than to bury his aching cock deep within your warm walls. He could practically smell your arousal tonight, the honey sweet aroma that he knew and grew to love. He thought reading a simple Western would help him calm his nerves.  What he didn’t realize was that the author wrote a lot of graphic sex scenes in the book. And those graphic sex scenes weren't helping his frustration nor the hard on he had for you.

After a moment of contemplating, and hearing you sigh once again, he decided to say fuck it, and read out loud to you.  What’s the worst that could happen, he thought, if anything maybe tonight I’ll finally get fucking laid.  So with a big inhale, and deep exhale, Joel started reading to you out loud.  

“After a night of blissful romance, by morning’s first light he was gone again. She could tell by the way the growing baby in her belly was kicking, that it missed their Papa as much as she missed her strong man. She tried convincing herself that he’d be back before winter, but she knew deep in her heart that was not the case.  Winter turned into spring, and with it, came the birth of her son, Joshua.  Giving birth was hard, especially when her man wasn’t by her side. But the neighbor lady, a woman who had 5 children, helped her with the process. Then one day when Joshua was 3 months old, a familiar Southern drawl came from across the room “fuck darlin’, ain’t you beautiful.”

As Joel read out loud, you turned back around to face him.  You glanced up and saw how his natural curls slowly swayed at the turn of each page. How he’d use his tongue to gently lick his finger right before he’d turn the page. You also saw how Joel would periodically lick his lower lip, as a way to moisten it as he slowly read out loud to you.

“He watched her from across the room as she fed his son. After not being around a woman for many months, he found the soft suckling noises, and the light bounce of her breast, as his son fed to be something exotic.  He slowly felt himself become hard at watching her nurse him.  There was something so incredibly sexy about a woman feeding his child, and he was desperate for proper release.  He found a chair in the corner of the room and slowly took a seat.  He quietly palmed his cock in his jeans at the sight of you.” 

 “When he watched you switch sides, he nearly exploded in his pants.  You left your other breast hanging out of your bra.  It swung heavy, gentle side to side motions as you rocked your son. He studied it, the curve and slope of your engorged tits. He saw a little bit of milk drip out from where his son had just finished feeding from you. God, he wanted to walk over there and pick up your heavy breasts and massage them.  He knew they hurt you, being twice the size from what they normally were, he could see how much they made you ache.  He also wanted to taste you, to lick the little drop of milk off from them, and then finish milking you dry with his mouth.  He wanted to taste the warm, wet rush of milk in his mouth as he suckled from you, nipped you, and got you to moan for him.  He knew your breasts were always so sensitive, but right now he knew he could get you to cum just by nursing from you himself. Feeling himself strain hard against his pants, he slowly unzipped himself and took out his aching member.” 

Joel stopped and took a deep breath to steady himself before reading on.  God his cock was fully erect right now, leaking precum and throbbing against the sheet.  He wanted you to put your mouth on it, to touch it, something to help relieve the desperate need and ache that he felt.  In an attempt to get this situation under control, before he made a fool of himself, he said in a breathy pant, “maybe uh, maybe we shouldn’t finish this darlin’, It ah, shit, it kinda gets really vulgar in a second.”

“Finish reading the fucking chapter Joel, please,” you said with a rush to your voice. When he glanced at you he could tell that you were just as worked up. You were sweating, your eyes were closed and your legs were closed tight.  You slowly rocked back and forth, trying to find a little bit of relief for the tension that was building fast in your core. God you two needed to blow off some steam together and soon. 

“Look here little girl” Joel said with a bite to his voice. “Don’t go and snap at me cause you’re fucking frustrated. I won’t keep readin’ if ya can’t be nice.” Joel then noticed you shuffle underneath the sheets, putting your hand in-between your legs, and pressing your legs together again while whispering “sorry, it’s just hard.”

As Joel sat there he watched how hard you were pressing your thighs together, gently rocking yourself into your hand. Fuck, you looked hot and bothered, and he was hard as hell.  He wanted to see how far you’d go to relieving yourself, so he continued reading out loud. 

“Up and down he stroked his cock, working himself up. He noticed a good amount of precum drip from his slit at the sight of the woman nursing. When she looked over at him he growled low saying, ‘when you’re done with him, you’re gonna come on over here and bounce on this dick properly darlin’.”

“After she was done nursing, and had put the babe down to bed, she slowly sauntered over to the man in the room. She had no intention of riding him, but she couldn’t help with how worked up she’d been, and how long it had been since she had a man between her legs.  She found herself straddling him and very slowly lowering herself down on his cock. When she was fully sheathed she started moving back and forth, up and down, and then back and forth. She worked him hard, giving him everything that she could with her hips, fucking him like she’d never see him again. The more she worked him, the more she felt that familiar coil tighten deep within her belly as her tits swayed and bounced in his face.”

“‘I feel it darlin’, keep fucking going’ he said as he started helping her rock faster into him and attaching his mouth to her nipple. When he bit down she yelped, saying ‘fuck yes, harder.’ He smiled as he continued to lick, nip, and suck her gorgeous swollen tits. He started meeting her thrust for thrust, jack hammering up into her, chasing his own high. ‘Why did I stop fucking this’ he said, moaning into her as he felt her walls flutter around him.

“‘Mama, I know you're close. Come on, give it to me’ he growled, grinding her hard on him. One, two, three hard thrusts in and she felt her coil snap hard in her stomach. She felt a gush of fluid rush his cock and then he tipped over the edge growling in her ear. He continued thrusting as he worked them both through their highs, grunting each other’s names in the process. As soon as they were done, he picked her up and took her to bed where he showed her what being home truly meant. They both tipped over the edge multiple times into eternal bliss, needing each other for forever more.”

When Joel finished reading the chapter he closed the book and heard himself panting hard. He looked over at you and saw that you had your eyes closed and was slowly rocking back and forth with your hand in-between your legs again panting hard. Fuck you looked hot.  As soon as you noticed Joel had stopped reading your eyes snapped open and you glared at him with blown out pupils.  

“Maybe uh-maybe we should uh-”

“Goodnight Joel” you whispered while you rolled over and laid there in silence. Joel just looked at you puzzled, about to ask if you wanted to maybe do something when you said “please turn out the light, I’m kinda tired and wanna go to bed.”

“Yeah sure” he said, turning out the light and slipping down into the bed.  Joel laid there staring at the ceiling, thinking when he said “do you wanna-”

“No, goodnight Joel.”

“Yeah, ok. Goodnight darlin.’” Joel laid there confused, not understanding what had happened. He didn’t know if you were embarrassed at him seeing you worked up or if he somehow hurt your feelings.  After laying in silence for a bit he was going to ask if you were ok.  But before he did, he heard you say “before you asked what I was thinking, I was just thinking what we're gonna do once we find Tommy. Like where do I go? Do I live with you or am I supposed to be on my own or what?”

Joel didn’t answer right away, as he didn't know the answer. This was something that the two of you hadn’t discussed. He wanted you to stay with him, but he didn’t want to force you to stay either.  Apparently his lack of communication right now upset you.  “Just forget I asked,” you said. “I'll just figure it out myself."  And with that you fell into a deep sleep.  But as you started to dream, your mind decided to recall a memory that you truly wanted to never remember again…

Dreamstate- Flashback to Boston, QZ- 5 years prior 

(graphic content)...if you want to skip this section go to “flashback end” in bold below to pick up the regular story again. Please read warnings before proceeding reading flashback, this is very dark content.

“You’re so fucking stupid, how can you not be able to do this. Like every dumb idiot can shoot a bow, well everyone except for you.” Dave snarled at you when you couldn’t even pull back the bow.

“Well I don’t know Dave, maybe teach me how to do it instead of ridiculing me. Like what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you acting like this? You’re supposed to be my boyfriend” you said, snapping at him.

“Boyfriend? Nope, I’m not your boyfriend” he said with venom, as he downed the last of the amber liquid in the glass bottle.  “Boyfriends are people you care about, and you honestly don’t give a fuck about me. So why should I care about you in return? You’re just a stupid liability that I have to deal with, and one that I can’t seem to get rid of.”

You watched Dave drink, knowing what was in store for you tonight. When Dave drank, he usually became violent with you. It was a standard routine that the two of you had, and one you were honestly sick of. You wanted out, that was for certain. You wanted to get as far away from this piece of shit guy as you could.

In order to cope and deal with the fact that you hated your life, and that you wanted out and away from Dave, you took another job. You were smuggling goods secretly on the black market of the QZ and Joel Miller was the man that you were working with. Tess, Joel’s partner, had approached you after she had seen bruises on your arms during your normal QZ job. Dave usually never gave you any bruises that people could visually see. But something recently happened, and he no longer cared.  So you walked around with bruises, where the world could see who you belonged to. When Tess saw this, it angered the hell out of her. So much so that she introduced you to Joel, in an attempt to help you earn enough money to get out and away from Dave.

“If you wanna get out of there, you come talk to me or Joel, and we’ll get you out, understand?” Tess said while working a shift with you. All you did was nod your head, but you didn't take her up on her offer until Dave broke your collarbone. That's the night you went to see Tess at home. She helped clean you up and then let you stay over. 

When Joel got home he said “what’s she doing here?” while pointing at you.

“She's spending the night Joel, she got roughed up a bit and needed care.”

Joel approached you and lightly grabbed your chin, examining the bruise that was forming on the side of your lip. “Better get some ice on that darlin’ before it swells.” That night Joel slept on the couch and insisted that Tess and you took the bed.

You started doing odd jobs on the side for Tess and Joel. Joel never questioned you of why you wanted the side jobs. Just like he never questioned you of why you had bruises on your arms or hickies on your neck.  The time you showed up with a swollen black eye though he said, “darlin’ it ain’t right what he’s doing, no guy is worth that.”

As Dave's anger increased, so did the extra jobs.  Tess and Joel threw every side job they had at you in an attempt to help you get enough money to leave. Finally after months of pulling double shifts, you had enough money to leave. This made you happy as you no longer had to feel afraid of Dave anymore, but you were so wrong. 

“You know what Dave, fine” you yelled snapping back at him. “I can’t keep doing this with you. I’ll just pack up my shit and-”

“Don’t flatter yourself Y/N, you know you ain’t leaving, where would you even go?” he said, baiting you.

“Anyplace other than with you Dave, so just fuck o-” 

“Where you just about to tell me to fuck off?” Dave said, sneering at you.  “Bad move honey. I may not be a genius, but I ain’t stupid. I found your extra stash of money, real sweet hiding it in a sock” Dave said while holding up the sock.  

Dave reached in and grabbed the wad of money that you had earned. When he started the money on fire with a lighter you yelled “what the fuck are you doing Dave? My god, don’t burn that.” You lunged at the sock to try to put out the fire.

Dave kept pushing you back until all the money was burnt to ash. You fell to your knees defeated and angry that he'd take this last bit from you. You heard him laugh behind you saying, “think again sweetheart, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. Now get the fuck up.” 

When you stood up you felt anger and bile rise up from the pit of your stomach. That was almost a year's worth of pay down the drain. You had pulled extra shifts, did side jobs, sometimes almost died, trying to save up enough money to leave. You put up with Dave’s shit, allowing him to mark you with his mouth when you hated the very sight of him, just so you could get up and do another job for cash. Now the asshole burned it up like ash, just so he could watch you seethe in anger. He didn’t care if he had extra money, money meant nothing to Dave. Power is what Dave craved. If money that you earned was going to take his power away from him, he'd burn it up just to make sure you'd lose all control.

When you turned around you didn’t care about playing nice anymore. When you first got to know Dave, you thought that he was someone who cared. You quickly found out that was a lie. “You’re an asshole” you yelled, smacking him hard across the face.  As soon as you smacked him you watched his eyes glaze over, and then the other side of him came out. 

“Ok, fine bitch. You wanna play like that, then let’s fucking play like that.” Your vision blurred as Dave hit you across the face. You then felt him hit you again, and again, and again, and again. When his one hand got tired, he then switched to the other but this time with a closed fist. You tried to fight back, but the more you struggled, the more he pinned you down on the ground. With both of his knees on either side of your arms, you couldn’t move. You eventually tried to relax, knowing that the more you fought the worse it was going to be. But this didn't stop him.

“You know,” Dave said, “I think I’m just gonna just take what I need this time from you. You seem to always run your fucking mouth off, saying you want to be my girlfriend, so why not take what's mine, right?” You then felt the rip of your jeans beneath you. You tried to fight him off, realizing what he was after, and what he was going to do. Dave and you had never had sex, and that was something that he always hated. 

“Dave you can’t, please, don’t. I’ll stay. Just don’t do that, don’t take that from me” you yelled as tears streamed down your face as you tried to fight him off. You fought for your life, because honestly it felt like this was it. But the more you fought the angrier he got until you felt the snap of your ankle, and then the searing pain that went with it. He broke your ankle so you couldn’t run away. You then felt him take his knife and cut you deep on your thigh, right up by your mound as he said “gonna make sure this is deep enough, so you have a scar here forever to remember who the fuck you belong to.”

You tried to fight him, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t get him off of you. And then finally you felt it, the searing pain in your groin as Dave forced himself all the way into you. He took the last bit of innocence that you had, you were now truly broken. 

You laid there crying, sobbing, wishing that death would take you. You must have been making too much noise because you felt Dave's hand on your mouth with a knife at your throat, yelling “shut the fuck up.”  You thought ‘please, just cut me and let me die here’ as you heard Dave moan above you. He continued to take what he thought belonged to him.

“Fuck, why have you denied this to me for so long, huh?” he said. You knew it wasn’t a question that he wanted answered, it was just something he was saying. “Gonna do this every fucking day now with you, Jesus. Fuck, will you at least stop fucking crying and pretend to at least enjoy this” he said, as you felt another smack across your face. You turned your face away from him so only your bad eye was upright, the one he beat hard with a fist. You didn’t want to look at him with the side of your face that you could still see out of. 

You laid there and tried to will the tears to stop, but they never did. You felt him tighten his hand around your throat as he squeezed the life out of it. “Fucking look at me, I know little lady you can still see out of one eye, not that fucking stupid. You look at who owns you, you hear me” he yelled, as he yanked your face towards him. When you looked up at Dave, you saw the monster that he truly was.  Somehow in the last few years a man who was kind and gentle to you turned into someone who was this. You thought that maybe this was him all along. You tried to convince yourself of that as a way of coping. 

As he continued you suddenly felt your head get dizzy from the lack of oxygen. You knew that you were done. That this was the day you were going to die. There was no more compassion in Dave’s face anymore, only a monster that was going to kill. You’ve seen this look in his eyes when he's killed other people before, so you knew you were next. 

As you laid there accepting your fate you heard a deep voice yell “what the fuck are you doing, get the fuck off from her.”  You saw Dave get yanked off from you by someone, but you didn't know who. 

“Mind your own fucking business, old man” you heard Dave yell back in return. You then heard a struggle followed by three soft bangs of a gun. It was a gun that had a silencer on it, you knew this because it was sold on the blackmarket of the QZ, and Dave usually carried a gun with a silencer on it. 

As you laid still you heard the person who shot the gun approach. At first you thought it was Dave, that he was coming back over to finish what he started. But when you heard the Texan drawl of “darlin’ are you ok?” the flood gates opened up and you fell apart. You knew that voice anywhere, the voice of Joel Miller.

Joel kneeled down by you as he gently sat you up. “Are you ok?” he said, looking you over to see what was all wrong. When he noticed the blood that was coming from in-between your legs, he shrugged off his flannel shirt, wrapped it around you and said, “ok, come on. Let’s get you outta here, and get ya cleaned up.” He then picked you up and carried you back to his house. 

Once you were cleaned up Joel got you situated and laid you down on his bed. Tess wasn't home, she was out working according to Joel. In an effort to try to get you to sleep, Joel laid you on your side and tucked you tight into his chest. One leg went in-between your legs, and he slowly stroked soothing circles on your back saying “it’s okay honey, I got ya and nothing bad is ever gonna happen, just breathe.” He started humming that little tune that you’d come to know and  love so well…Flashback end

Back to Regular Story

“y/n. Y/n. Y/N” you heard Joel yell, but it sounded muffled to your ears.  The only thing that you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat and the labored breathing that you were doing. “I can’t do this, he hates me, he wants to hurt me, I’m all alone" was all that you said out loud, still stuck someplace inside of your nightmare.  You were drowning in anxiety, breaking out in a cold sweat, and not realizing that you were still in fact dreaming.

“Baby, wake up” Joel yelled, shaking you as he tried to get you out of the nightmare.  You haven’t had this kind of a nightmare for a long time, and this fact burned hot in Joel’s chest.  He didn’t want you remembering the past, remembering the night that he killed Dave. He knew that’s the nightmare you were having because you always said words like “please don't take that Dave, don't cut me. I'll be good, I promise” and finally you'd yell “please just kill me, I wanna go home,” like you were doing right now. If that son of a bitch was still alive, I’d kill that motherfucker yet again, Joe thought to himself.

Joel was rubbing your arms and trying to wake you up as you started to thrash in the sheets. “Baby come on, come on honey it’s me, you gotta wake up” he said, feeling his heart ache at you trying to run away in your dream with your eyes still closed.  All of a sudden you sat up in bed and let out a blood curdling scream, clothes drenched slick with sweat, and body shaking all over.  As soon as your eyes flew open you saw Joel was sitting upright, right in front of you. He grabbed you and held you saying “baby I’m here, I'm here. You’re safe. No one’s hurting you. It all was just a bad dream honey, all of it. It was just a bad dream.”

“Joel” you said, shaking, touching his face, not believing that it was really him and that he was there.  “Dave, he, he-” 

“Shhh baby, c’mere, I gotcha honey, I gotcha” Joel said while wrapping his arms around you and tightly holding you against his chest. “He’s gone baby, he’s gone. Shhh.” Joel felt the tremors and aftershocks go through your entire body, up your spine, as you came down from your nightmare.  Joel slowly rocked you back and forth, and side to side, humming to you and reassuring you that you were alright. 

"Baby, can you look at me." Joel said with the gentlest voice, after humming to you and rocking you for a while. When you opened your eyes you saw him look at you with the softest eyes. Your lip quivered hard as your tears kept falling. Why are men cruel, why do they always hurt me, and why can't anyone love me? you thought to yourself. What you didn't realize was that you voiced your thoughts out loud, and Joel heard them. You tried to calm yourself down, but your throat burned. After taking a few breaths to steady yourself you felt the world start to spin on its axis. Your heart raced and you felt the sob that you were trying to hold back escape your mouth.

 "Oh baby, c’mere." Joel said as he grabbed your head and tucked you into the crook of his neck. He started humming to you that song again that you knew so well, the one he hummed that first night to you.

"It-it’s so beau-beautiful. Wh-what song is that?" you asked as you slowly finished crying yourself out. 

"I used to hum it to Sarah when she was little. It's a song I wrote before she was born." Joel said as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, holding you firmer to his chest to protect you.

"It truly is beautiful, Joel." 

"Yeah she is beautiful. She's right here in my arms, and she's all mine." Joel said while he rubbed your back.

"Joel I-"

Joel pulled back and cupped your face in his large callused hands while slowly swiping your tears away. "Y/n, let me get this out first baby, okay? I care so much about you baby, truly I do. It destroys me to see you like this. That fucker, Dave, he’s gone. Ya hear me? You gotta stop letting him in like this. No more baby, ok? Now c’mere.”

Joel then laid you down on the bed and tucked you into him, the same way he did that first night. “I'm not him mama, I never have been.” Joel continued to brush your tears away while whispering in your ear "stop cryin' baby. You forever have a home with me, for as long as you want it, Ellie too.”

“But for how long” you say muffled into his chest. Joel pulled you away and looked at you to continue, not understanding what you meant.

“How long do I have a home Joel?  Am I gonna be the roommate that gets to watch you bring women back to your house and fuck them in your bed? Is your bed ever going to be our bed, or am I just the person you're forced to be with? Am I just a fucking doormat that you hurt over and over again Joel, someone you fucking forget because you're too afraid of feeling something. ‘She's too young, he's too old, you can't be together, it's wrong.’ It'll be worse than David. You're gonna hur-hurt me w-worse than he did. Why can't you just love me?" There it was, in the broken silence of the room, that you told Joel your biggest fear.

Joel couldn't believe it, that you didn't understand his feelings for you. You weren't a doormat, and he sure as hell wasn't that good for nothing David. "Baby, you ain't ever gonna be a doormat, ok. I honestly don't give a fuck what people think if we're together. They can all just fuck off if they don't like it, including my brother Tommy. You and Ellie, you're my whole life, and nothing is ever gonna change that" Joel said, holding you tight to his chest. 

After holding you tight for a few minutes he then pulled back and said “I'm committed to being yours, ya hear me? Fuck mama, you feel that" he said while slowly grinding his hard bulge into your pelvis. You both let out a low moan at the sensation. The two of you were both so worked up from this back and forth edging that has been happening that any little friction sent you both over the edge into wanting to fuck the other person bad. 

While looking at you, Joel adjusted the angle of his pelvis and ground down a little more into you. You could feel his entire outline of his cock right now, and God he felt good, and was rock hard. "You do this to me mama, just you. No one else. So quit your fussin' about it. Ya hear me? It's only you that I want in my fucking bed and no one else" he said with another delicious grind of his hips. 

“It's you that I want.” *hip grind* “It's you that makes me happy.” *hip grind* “It's you that I wanna spend my life with.” *hip grind* “And it's you that I wanna fuck.” And with that admittance Joel crashed his lips into yours and kissed you with a deep hunger that he felt for you. As he skimmed your bottom lip, you opened your mouth to grant him easy access. 

You both were so worked up that you couldn't stand it anymore. “Baby please” you panted. “Please, Joel, please.”

Hearing you say his name all wanton and needy like that unlocked something deep within his body. He had a primal urge now to have you. Joel quickly grabbed your shirt and ripped it open, which sent the buttons flying everywhere. He didn't care though, he desperately needed you. 

Joel quickly started to devour your chest. Grabbing, sucking, and biting your nipples in a heated frenzy. He grabbed one of your legs and hitched it higher up on his hip to open you up. In a heated mess, Joel grabbed your thigh by the permanent scar that David had left. He dug his fingers into it while whispering in your ear “I'm gonna fucking mark you as mine properly, baby.” And that's when he felt it, you froze and started breathing erratically.

Joel slowly pulled back, realizing what he just did. He looked at you and saw a mixture of want and fear across your face. He just realized that you weren't fully out of your nightmare in your head. “Baby, I- I didn't mean it the way that came out.”

“I know” was all you said, taking a slow shaky breath. 

“Fuck” Joel groaned as he sat up, dragging a hand down his face at his fuck up that he just did. “You know, I'd love a fucking smoke right about now” he said out loud, more to himself than you.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Joel asked.

“Why do you wanna have a cigarette now? Don't people usually smoke after sex, not when this shit happens” you say, jestering in-between the two of you.

“I don't know, maybe cause I'm embarrassed and now nervous.”

“Wh-”

“Are we now playing 20 fucking questions, y/n. Jesus.” Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No Joel we're not” you snap. “I'm just trying to understand and salvage this fucking night. So why did you stop?”

“I think that's pretty obvious by the look you're still giving me.”

“What look?”

“Jesus, we are playing 20 questions. Y/n, just-”

“So help me God Joel, if you fucking tell me to leave it or drop it I swear to God, that the knife that is on your side of the bed will be stuck in your damn heart. So unless you wanna truly die tonight, I suggest you fucking start talking.” you said, snapping hard at Joel.

Joel looked down at you with a smirk on his face. There was that attitude that he knew and loved from you. Your anger and frustration was like an amazing fire, one that if Joel wasn't careful, would burn him to death. But the longer he sat there tonight, looking at you, the more he truly didn't care. He'd welcome the chance to get burned by your flames tonight. At least it’d make him feel alive, and that's something that he hasn't truly felt for a long time. 

“I'd like to see you try it” Joel said, bending down to whisper close to you. “I don't think you have the fucking guts to do it.”  As the stare down between Joel and you continued, you noticed that Joel widened his smirk. “Just as I thought,” he said, “you don't have the guts. You're all talk, and no fucking do y/n. And I'm not surprised. I honestly thought that you'd have the guts to do what you needed to do to survive. Apparently I was wrong.”

Joel knew he was playing a deadly game with you. But he didn't care, he wanted to snap you out of this problem you kept having thinking that you weren't good enough for him. So if he had to bite hard and yank hard on the Lion's tail to get a reaction, then that's what he was going to do.  After a brief moment of hesitation, Joel saw something snap inside of you. In a blink of an eye he watched your calm exterior morph into something like an intense rage. You flung yourself on him and grabbed his knife. The two of you wrestled for a moment until Joel was finally on his back, his hands up in surrender as you held the knife to his throat. 

Joel laid there with blown out pupils watching you. This form of anger turned him on, and made his dick twitch in his pants. Apparently you did have the balls to take him on. As Joel laid there he watched your outer exterior falter, and watched you start to second guess yourself. “Do it,” Joel said. “Y/n if you're gonna do it, don't think about it, just do it” he growled.

“I-I” you said, shaking your head.

“Come on baby, just do it” he said, looking at you with concern in his eyes as yours welled up with tears. “Baby, if you think that all men are like Dave, then fucking slice my throat. Let me go see my daughter, let me have my baby girl back. Just do it.” To emphasize his point Joel grabbed your wrist and pushed the knife into his neck more, but not where it was cutting him yet.

“Why?” you sobbed holding tight to the knife, but not letting go. “Why beg me, why not just do it yourself if you don't want to be here? Why do you need me?”

When Joel looked into your soft eyes it was then that he knew you couldn’t see it. That you couldn’t see that he loved you.  He didn’t want to open his heart and say those three little words yet, but he felt it. He loved you. But he, himself, was also drowning in emotion at this fact, just like you were.

“Baby, if you can’t see why, then I’ve really fucked up. If ya can't see why I want you darlin’, then I don’t deserve you in my life. I’m not Dave honey, I never have been, nor ever will be.  If you can’t see that then please honey, just let me go and see my daughter. I don’t want to be in a world where you think I’m a fucking monster. Please.”

Joel could see the war that was going on in your head, the struggle of wanting to say that every guy was like Dave and then not.  You knew that Joel was nothing like Dave, but still you couldn't be sure. Joel was moody, quiet, and sometimes cold. But even in the coldest of moments Joel still found compassion for you. He looked out for you and even protected you by killing Dave, when Dave attempted to take everything from you. Truth is, you were scared to death. You were scared to death to give yourself completely to someone else for fear that he'd do exactly what Dave did. That he'd lie and then destroy you.

As you sat there straddling Joel, holding the knife to his throat, you felt a horrible burn collect in the back of your throat. Eventually you couldn't hold it in any longer and a horrible sob escaped your mouth. Your mind was fighting hard to break free from the abuse that had happened from Dave.  

Joel could see you struggle with these emotions, as you wore them plain as day on your skin, unable to hide them. When Joel felt your grip on the knife falter he gently grabbed you and flipped you on your back. “I don’t want to be in a world where you hate me darlin’” Joel said, while putting the knife down and grabbing your hip to hitch it higher to open you up.  He slowly moved his one hand down to trace the outline of your slit through your panties, his other hand held your hands above your head.

“You're denched, baby” Joel whispered as he rested his forehead against yours while slowly circling your clit on the outside of your panties.  “I don’t want to live in a fucking world where someone else gets to touch this mama.”  Joel slowly moved from your clit down to the center of your weeping hole and then back up to your clit. 

“Fuck baby, I need you” Joel said, panting at how turned on he felt.  “Something tells me that you need me too” and with that Joel yanked your panties to the side as he crashed his lips onto yours. He quickly made fast work on your clit, alternating between feather light tickles to heavy circles.

“We're going to stop working each other up darlin’” Joel said, making fast work of your clit. “I can’t do it anymore baby. I fucking need you.” And with that admittance Joel deepened his kiss.  You two sat like that. Joel overtop of you holding your wrists above your head, while he slowly licked into your mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile his other hand kept circling your clit, trying to give you release.

“Joel, please I need to-”

“I know baby, I know.  Let it happen, honey. Trust me, I got you. Let go.” And with that Joel felt your clit swell then spasm hard as your back arched off the bed. You sobbed and bucked your hips up hard against his hand, chasing your high, moaning Joel's name.  When overstimulation started Joel released your hands and started to just rock back and forth into you. Grinding his hard bulge into your drenched heat. Joel had removed his hand from your clit, and placed it on your head, to caress your head. He also continued to deepen his kiss in your mouth. The two of you sat there for several minutes, exploring each other's mouth while Joel slowly rocked his hips into you.

Joel kept rocking into you, showing you how much he cared, how much he loved you.  He couldn't say the words yet to you, soon, I'll tell her soon, he thought. The longer he made out with you, the more you both started to pant. You moved your hand down and slid Joel's pants off his hips as you started rubbing his swollen member. “Aw darlin', fuck” Joel said when you wrapped your hand around his head and gently squeezed. “Please baby, don't tease. I can't, I can't, fuck mama, don't tease me,” Joel panted and begged you to continue.

“Baby, shhh” you said as you stilled your movements. You immediately heard Joel groan in frustration, with his eyes closed, and his forehead touching yours. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna take real good care of you.”  With looking down at Joel you noticed that he was throbbing hard against your hand.  “Jesus Joel, does that hurt baby?” you asked running your thumb gently over the swollen reddened tip.  As you did you heard Joel let out a hiss at the sensation. “I’m gonna take care of this baby, I’ll make it feel better” you cooed, slowly stroking him again.

“God please” Joel begged, breathless, panting hard when he looked into your eyes.

“What? What do you need Joel, tell me honey and I’ll do it.”

After a few more slow twists of your hand at the reddened tip of his cock you heard Joel let out a strangled groan followed by a breathy “Don't. Fa-fucking. St-Stop.”

“I won't, baby, if you promise to use your fingers. Joel fingers- ah- f-fuck me with your fingers. I want them deep baby. I promise though, I won’t stop touching you” you said panting.

Joel quickly shifted and yanked your panties all the way down.  He also quickly removed his shirt, and finished taking off his pants the rest of the way. He wanted to feel skin on skin contact with you. When he looked at you he saw that you had blown wide pupils. “Come here and let me fuck you with my hand, Joel” you said in a sultery voice.

“Fuck woman, if ya talk like that you’re gonna kill me” Joel said, panting and quickly getting situated back between your legs.  

Joel and you quickly found a rhythm. You stroked him while he fingered you. Joel also explored you with his mouth, kissing you passionately.  The longer it went, the more the two of you were panting heavily and rutting hard against each other.

“God Joel, baby I need-”

“What do you need darlin’, come on tell me- fuck” he said moaning as you stroked him faster.

“I need to come Joel, I need it so bad” you whined.

“You’re gonna cum for me darlin’, gonna give me another one?”

“Joel fuck, baby” you said as Joel pulled your leg up to widen you out for him.  He reached deep within you at the spongy part inside and your eyes rolled back in your head with a long moan.  

“Yeah mama, daddy knows where that fucking G-spot is.  Come on baby, soak daddy’s fingers with that beautiful pussy.  Pretend it’s my cock darlin’.  Come on, soak ‘em” Joel said growling in your ear as he picked up the pace fucking you hard and fast in your drenched tight hole.  He added a second finger and your eyes rolled back in your head, hand stumbling trying to stroke his cock fast through it.

“Joel I can’t” you said as you attempted to relax with pleasure, plus try to get him off.

“Let me do it mama, just hold your hand on my cock and I’ll do the rest.  I’ll fuck your hand as I fuck this pussy full with my fingers.  Pretend I’m inside of you baby, now come on, let daddy fuck ya good.”

Joel picked up the pace, rutting hard into your hand chasing his own high.  “Fuck baby, god you feel so damn good, mama. I haven’t- fuck- I haven’t fucked myself since I came in that pretty little pussy last time” Joel admitted out loud.

“Oh baby, fuck. Right there. Joel, honey, you need to come. Damn it. Come on Joel, you need to come with me, I'm almost there.  God, Joel. Blow your load on me, let me see it.”

“Filthy fucking woman” Joel growled, snapping his hand and hips hard into you.  “Filthy fucking mouth, I’m gonna fuck that beautiful mouth real soon. Make you take my cock all the way back like you’re meant to.  Fuck y/n, I’m close, you’re gonna need to come soon darlin’, I can’t wait much longer.”  You felt Joel’s thrusts become sloppy in your hands, so you added a bit of pressure and started moving your wrist faster to get him there sooner.

“Fuck- babe. Shit, I’m gonna, fuck I’m gonna-” Joel said while putting his forehead against yours as he came with a loud groan.

“Come Joel, come for me baby” you said while you felt him swell and then release his cum all over your hand and stomach. You followed him over the edge with your own release, coating his fingers as he kept pumping them in and out of you.  

When Joel finally found release he felt his vision go white as his balls drained of all his pent up anger, frustration, and energy that he had from not being able to come since the last time you two had sex. As he came he heard himself swearing while gently rocking back and forth into your hand as white rope after white rope of his seed came out of him.  When his cock was finally spent, and he started to soften, he opened his eyes.

“Hey you” you said as you both came back down to Earth.  “You ok, did I do that ok? Was I too-”

“Baby, stop. That was- fuck woman. That was amazing.” Joel said as he continued to slowly pant, trying to get his breathing under control.

“Good,” you said while kissing his forehead, “I’m glad you liked it.”

“How about you?” Joel said while picking his head up and slowly removing his fingers from your soaked cunt. “Did that-”

“Fuck Joel, that felt amazing” you said while laughing and blushing. 

“Good baby, so glad to hear.” he said, giving you a slow kiss to your mouth. When he was done he rolled onto his back and slowly calmed his breathing.

“We’re a mess Joel” you said laughing at how soaked you and him were with both sweat and both of your releases.  

“Give me a minute for the blood to go back to my brain honey, and then I’ll get up and get us a towel to clean up with.”

“Has it really been that long for you? That you haven’t come since we had sex in the woods a few months back?” you asked while you gently nudged him.

“I said that out loud? Fuck” Joel said with a groan.  “Yeah baby, it is, or was,” he said while sitting up and slowly standing up. Joel exited the room and went to the bathroom to clean up.  After he was done cleaning himself up he came in with a wet washcloth and a dry towel and slowly cleaned you up.  When he was finished he placed them in the dirty clothes pile, making a mental note to make sure he washed them in the sink with soap and water later.

He laid down next to you in bed, still panting as he slowly came down from his high. He only had his pajama pants on, and not his t-shirt.  You had already grabbed his t-shirt and had put it on.  “C’mere” he said while pulling you close to him and tucking you on your side, against his chest.

As you laid there and listened to him breathing, you heard that it was starting to slow and even out.  “Did you mean what you said?” you gently whispered into the night.

“About what?” Joel said, with sleep lacing his voice.

“That I’m not a doormat, that you want me to stay with you, and that you only want me in your bed?”  After Joel didn't respond you said “just forget that I-”

With a sigh Joel said, “Baby.” When you didn’t acknowledge him, he gripped you tighter saying “y/n.” Finally when you looked up at his face you saw that he was looking down at you seriously.  “I meant every fucking word that I said.  You're not a doormat and you belong in this bed with me, and only me. Now go to sleep.” Joel then tucked you into him once again.

After a moment you said in the darkness “I love you Joel” and with that, you fell asleep.  When Joel knew that you were sleeping he also said out loud “I love you too sweetheart, always have and always will.”  Joel knew that he had to tell you soon that he loved you. But this admission in the dark, when you were softly sleeping in his arms, was good enough for now. As sleep finally took Joel he thought to himself I love you and you’re forever mine. 

That was the first night the both of you had a decent night's sleep since this whole thing started. You both were wrapped up tight in each other's arms, not letting go, locking the world out for just one night. If you could describe the feeling you both felt, that feeling would be home. You felt like you were at home, safe in each other's arms. And that was something worth fighting for. 

-End chapter-

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel and reader #pedro pascal #joel miller masterlist #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel the last of us #my journey to you #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us hbo #post apocalyptic #pedro pascal characters #you're forever mine

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC (Batfamily)

Birdwatch11 by smilebackwards

Tim hadn’t actually meant to start a popular Batwatch blog.

He hadn’t meant to start a blog at all honestly but by the time he turned eleven he’d accumulated hundreds of pictures of Batman and Robin on his Nikon DSLR and it had just seemed inefficient to go through the trouble of printing them and storing them in a box under his bed when BlogSphere had a perfectly adequate platform.

lost treasure by adelfie

"Dad, I don’t want to do this.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want. This is why we brought you here,” Jack hisses. “So we can get paid.”

Or: When a cozy night out with his parents turns into a night of captivity and torture, Tim is forced to seek protection from his worst nightmare - the Red Hood.

Hey There Demons by hitthedeck

Treating magical threats lightly is never an option, especially when that threat tears holes in realities. To combat this danger, a good hero must remain vigilant and in peak physical condition at all times.

Too bad Red Robin never got that message.

Or, in which even demons can't comprehend why Tim Drake is Like That.

Stranger Things

Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In by KiaraMGrey

When Steve finds himself alone and without friends, following his breakup with Nancy, he decides what he needs is a distraction. Maybe some new friends who don't remind him of the bullshit life he gave up. When he literally runs into Eddie Munson, school drug dealer and self proclaimed freak, an idea begins to form. Who better to show him what life outside popularity can be like, than someone who doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks?

And Eddie? Well, Eddie is just bracing for impact.

Everybody's Friend by AmethystUnarmed

"Hey Harrington,” Eddie calls, as Steve books it to the Beamer.

Steve stops, and is only the slightest bit nervous when he says, “Yeah?”

It almost makes Eddie feel bad.

Almost.

“How’s the character creation going?”

The absolute dread on Steve’s face confirms Eddie's worst fears.

“I... I'm not going to be able to play Thursday.”

God. Dammit.

~~~

Steve's budding friendship with the Hellfire Club hits a few snags and Eddie wonders if all of this was even worth it.

Clone Wars

Standards of Professionality by Trixree

"Are we going to pretend I didn’t just find you fucking your General, vod?” Rex hisses over private-comm.

Cody doesn’t even turn his head to look at him. Rex can hear the smile in Cody’s voice when he replies, “No, because I am not fucking my General, Rex’ika. I am fucking Obi-Wan. We are professionals.”

5 times Cody and Obi-Wan struggled to maintain plausible deniability regarding their affections for one another + 1 time they decidedly Did Not

Shadowhunters

prosper matrimonium by smilebackwards

"Gorgeous, sweet, community-oriented,” Magnus ticks off the positive attributes on his fingers. And he’s sure he’ll find plenty more to like about Alexander Lightwood. “I imagine suitors are beating down his door. Please tell me he’s not actually dating Lorenzo.”

Cat hesitates. “Well, if you’re really interested in Alec, you have interesting timing to say the least.”

“How do you mean?” Magnus asks.

“Alec just put his name in for the prosper matrimonium.”

Or: The disaster with the Circle swings the Clave a little more progressive. And if Magnus wants Alec’s heart, he’s going to have to compete for it

The Umbrella Academy

To Be Where You Are (So Very Far) by bobee

He'd thought he'd seen it all.

Forty-Five years in a wasteland and two weeks saving the world, only to be taken for a year by a man guided by his own self-interest. He'd seen the horrors of what this life has to offer. It's all he's ever seen.

He just hadn't known that there was one out there meant for him.

(or, Number Five, the end of the end of the world, and the start of a new one.)

On My Terms by CivilBores

"I did what you asked,” he tells her. “Now, the briefcase.”

Her eyebrows raise in mock-surprise, red lips curling up her face in a sadistic smile.

“You didn’t think that was all, did you?” she asks.

AU: The Handler gives Five a slightly different deal.

#happy wednesday everyone #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #dc recs #stranger things recs #tua recs #sw recs #shadowhunter recs

[redroyalblues]

“So, imagine we’re all born with a set of feelings. Some are broader or deeper than others, but for everyone, there’s that ground floor, a bottom crust of the pie. That’s the maximum depth of feeling you’ve ever experienced. And then, the worst thing happens to you. The very worst thing that could have happened. The thing you had nightmares about as a child, and you thought, it’s all right because that thing will happen to me when I’m older and wiser, and I’ll have felt so many feelings by then that this one worst feeling, the worst possible feeling, won’t seem so terrible. But it happens to you when you’re young… The worst thing is one of the first big things that ever happens to you in your life. It happens to you, and it goes all the way down to the bottom of what you know how to feel, and it rips it open and carves out this chasm down below to make room. And because you were so young, and because it was one of the first big things to happen in your life, you’ll always carry it inside you. Every time something terrible happens to you from then on, it doesn’t just stop at the bottom —it goes all the way down.”

-red white and royal blue, casey mcquiston

@rwrbmovie & @rwrbsource rwrb week day 1 | quote

notes:

i don’t have anything visual to offer today but this is just such a criminally under-appreciated quote from the book i couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by. i think it captures and explains everything henry feels and does in such a poignant way that is so true and honest if you’ve been through something like what he’s experienced. this was the quote that— for me, when i read the book for the first time— made me have to set it down and sit with it for a few minutes just marveling at the fact that someone was able to capture the exact thought process i’ve had innumerable times in words so beautifully. it was a moment of such starkly real expression that i will never forget and it’s one of the many reasons the story and henry as a character are so special to me. thank you, casey.

#rwrbweek #rwrb #rwrbmovie #rwrbsource #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #red white & royal blue #casey mcquiston

[daryldamnson]

Corroded coffin makes it big, like sabbath big, and (after making sure that Wayne has been taken care of) Eddie starts spoiling you, buying you mountainsnof luxuries that he could only wish to give you when you first started dating. You have to remind Eddie that you fell in love with him and the small moments together, the money has never been an issue, you're favourite memories are the ones lying on top of Eddie's trailer stargazing and talking about nothing and everything

god he's so soft i want to kiss all of his insecurities away, thanks for requesting!

tw for one mention of alcoholism and abuse (in reference to eddie's parents), insecure!eddie, fem!reader coded but only in terms of dress/skirt wearing, 0.7k

title from primadonna by marina and the diamonds

“Baby, I don’t need this, you know that, right?”

It’s the dress you’d barely eyed up in the store window you’d walked past last week.  A while ago, back when touring meant bars with cheap beers and busking in city centres, you’d have paid it a little more attention - yearned over it a little more.

Nowadays, a pretty dress was just a pretty dress.  You had plenty of pretty dresses, and cute skirts, and tight tops, and fashionably ripped jeans.  That’s not to mention the veritable rainbow of shoes and matching handbags that had their own closet at the home Eddie had proudly presented to you after his first album had skyrocketed the charts.

“I can afford to give you anything you want now,” Eddie’s careful to make the distinction, ringed hand reaching out to land gently over yours.  “I just…  I want you to have everything you want.”

His voice is all too earnest in a way that makes your heart break.

“The dress is nice, Eddie,” you concede, smiling softly at him.  “It’s lovely, even.  But you know what I really want?”

You’ve known him long enough to know what that look in his eyes means.

Despite the confident façade he’d kept up since he’d first started high school, only exacerbated by crowds of fans and hit songs, Eddie could be a pretty insecure guy.

Most of it seemed to stem from his parents; disinterested at best - his mother had been more captivated by the bottle than her child, abusive at worst - his father had a similar predilection for alcohol that led to screamed insults and thrown fists.  Eddie had found a home - and a real father - in Wayne, but the damage had already been done.

He struggled to believe anybody could truly know him and love him anyway.  Love him because of that.  And even once he’d accepted that perhaps they did, he found it was all too easy to imagine them walking away, deciding he wasn’t worth the hassle or the effort.

So he bought things.

Years ago, in the times of garage band practices and one-bedroom trailers, he’d channelled this anxiety into mixtapes, and plucked wildflowers, and too many blankets, and always having your favourite drinks stocked.

You think of stargazing, and cheap beer, and horror movies smuggled from Family Video by Steve.  You think of the collection of ‘cool’ rocks in your jewellery box, and the annotations he’d made in between the lines so you’d think about him when you read your favourite book.  You think of personalised mixtapes with almost too much Sabbath, and him excitedly telling you about his plans for a new campaign, and the way his lips twitch when he sleeps.  You think of his uncontrollable hair, and his tattoos, and his heart.

“Anything,” he promises, wide brown eyes looking back at you almost desperately, and you know he means it.

“You.”  There’s a beat of silence as you bring up a hand to cup his cheek, leaning forward a little to hold his gaze.  “I just want you.  That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

It seems to take him by surprise despite how often you tell him this.  You watch his throat bob as he swallows, lips parting slightly.  “I…” he starts, voice cracking a little on the single syllable.  “You have me.  Always.”

You steadfastly do not mention the glassy shine that has taken over his eyes, but you feel your own mist up in response anyway.

“Then I’m good.  I’m happy.  I don’t need anything else.”

You say it like there’s nothing more obvious in the world.  Probably because to you there isn’t.

He lets out a pleased laugh, more a breath of air than anything else, as he rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes.

“Well,” you begin, a teasing lilt to your voice, “actually, I could do with a kiss as well.”

You pout your lips a little and look at him with the most pitiful gaze you can muster without breaking into a smile.

Eddie has no such qualms and his lips part into one of those grins where his dimples show, and his eyes crease, and you just feel warm.

“I think I can swing for that,” he murmurs, already moving in to press his lips against yours.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things headcanons #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #pretty little loserboy

[schweizercomics]

THE GREATCOATS by Sebastien de Castell

I drew these up as one of the (mostly literary) paper figures I do each month for Patreon.

Despite always being drawn to the trappings of fantasy, there are precious few fantasy books (or movies, etc) that have resonated with me. One very notable exception is the Greatcoats series, four novels that follow a trio of comrades from an effectively-dissolved band of dueling magistrates, who, in their heyday, had been charged with enforcing unpopular verdicts against politically powerful folks who had, until that point, been untouchable by the rule of law.

It’s kind of a thrust-the-Musketeers-into-a-medieval-setting thing, and there are swordfights and sucked-into-political-intrigues-even-though-you’re-ill-suited-towards-them a’plenty, for folks who like that sort of thing, and I very much do.

From the first read (I’ve now read them all thrice, along with a collection of short stories), these have become some of my very favorite books, and I could not recommend them more highly. They can, at times, be a hard read; the world in which the Greatcoats live is an unjust one, and whatever terrible things you can imagine people doing (torture, sexual assault, murder, animal cruelty, etc) can and probably are enacted in it, but what has, to me, set this series apart from some other “grim” fantasies is the balance between the knowledge that the world is an unfair, cruel, and terrible place, with the wholehearted belief that it shouldn’t, and doesn’t have to be. Idealism colors every action of the leads, and there’s something incredibly moving and powerful about characters who persevere against impossible odds towards fairness and justice despite encountering the very worst examples of their absence, never in ignorance or denial but out of pure stubbornness.

De Castell crafts a narrative with masterful control over how it’ll affect the reader; it’s melodrama in the best way, with huge operatic emotional beats. They never feel calculated – they’re all earnest, and they’re all earned. There are sections that make you weep, that make you laugh, and (I suspect this is the rarest, and most difficult to achieve) that make you want to cheer, stomp, salute. Moving speeches, incredible narrative payoffs, characters for whom you desperately root. Plus, of course, the suspense of peril and the best action sequences I’ve ever encountered in prose. De Castell’s first-person narration of fight scenes from the point of view of a strategist follows a pretty wonderful pattern of beginning the fight, edging the audience, and then turning to an aside that informs the context of the fight - a lesson learned long ago, an observation about the human condition, a technique frequently incorporated by duelists, an anecdote – and then return to the fight, the new context both heightening the peril and also providing a means by which the reader can fully appreciate the very clever way that the hero(s) win despite being outmatched. It’s a great internal “meanwhile, back at the ranch” and it gives each action encounter (and they are joyously plentiful) narrative weight.

Again, I can’t recommend the series more highly. It has some truly great characters – the leads, the supporting cast, the villains are wonderful and terrible, and the setting is rich and immersive. De Castell describes it as “swashbuckling fantasy,” and it swashbuckles its heart out.

You can get it in print, or in unabridged audiobook (Audible has it, and probably your library does, too), wonderfully narrated by Joe Jameson.

There are a number of other great characters, too – co-leads in their own right – but to draw them is to provide spoilers, so rather than do a whole cast, as I sometimes do, I’ve stuck to the three that you get from the first page.

Design (for process buffs)

There’s not too much visual description about the characters; Kest is described as of average height and build, with short hair, Brasti has hair long enough to tie back and a beard and is tall… and I think that’s it (at least so far as I’ve noticed, or remember).

There’s a tendency to make archers lean and wiry – it compliments the arrow imagery, and a tight, sinewy form seems a carryover of the bowstring to its user, but I wanted Falcio to be lean and triangular, and stoic Kest to be square, so it got me thinking that Brasti ought to have rounder features to offset and compliment the others. He’s a country boy, too, and where I’m from the troublemakers are often a little meatier, so it felt fitting, though it does suggest that he's physically imposing in a way the stories don’t push. But I kind of like that beefy, country swagger he’s got. He’s carrying two bows, as it’s a plot point that he has bows for different purposes: a fast one, and a powerful one.

The eponymous coats were tricky; they’re practically magic; serving as armor (via little bone plates sewn under the leather) and utility belt, with little pockets for whatever the story may require the characters need. I wanted a way to make them modular, so I figured on making a pretty sturdy chest piece that folds back to allow the coat to be open and unbuttoned, and a rolled epaulet that unrolls and can be used as a gorget to protect the neck during a duel (or from the cold).

I wanted each of the characters to be able to wear the coat differently, to reflect their personalities: Kest, always at the ready and doing things the “right” way, has his greatcoat fully rigged. Byronic Falcio needs to be able to dash about with tragic romanticism, so his coat needs to be a little more open – I probably should’ve had the chestpiece partially unflapped ala the Rocketeer, but I also wanted it to read clearly. And Brasti wears his because he has to, so he has all the trappings tied or buttoned back.

Last Thoughts

For artist and writer pals, I’d highly recommend listening to any of De Castell’s interviews on podcasts or on youtube; he’s generous with his process and has a lot of great thoughts about the act of writing.

#Fantasy Fiction #Swashbuckling #Sebastien de Castell #The Greatcoats #Greatcoats #Greatcoats Series #Fantasy Series #Book review #book recommendations #fanart #fantasy art #character design

[portiaadams]

The Best Gift Ever

I’ve rather been going through it. One of the worst parts is I’ve had atrocious writers block.

I can survive a lot but not losing my ability to disassociate.

Today is a particularly hard day, and the next couple of weeks aren’t going to be better.

So imagine my surprise when I came home to a box.

The first things I found

Followed by this

When I say I SCREAMED

This endpaper!

MY WORDS

But I truly lost it when I found these

The dust jackets. I sob.

My baby wearing its jackets.

I’m out of images but more goodies from the box.

Apparently @runn0ft reached out to @nodeadfandoms and roped in @fancykraken to create this for me.

Touched doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m so emotional even I don’t have words, and as you all know I usually have so many words. Poor @nodeadfandoms had to read all 488 pages of T3. And it’s so beautiful. Now I’m curled on my sofa with a physical copy of MY book.

#boardwalk empire #tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow #t3 #bookbinding #no dead fandoms #friendship

[esther-dot]

The only “anti Jonsa” argument that made sense to me is that not one of the characters will get a healing and healthy romance in the books because that’s not the story George is trying to tell. Going by the show, it’s not hard to believe 😕.

(about this ask)

Before I answer, I just want to say that shipping Jonsa and believing it will be canon are two different things. In fact, some of our most beloved fic writers do not think it was (in the show) or ever will be (in the books) canon, so there is no criteria as far as that goes for enjoying and creating for the fandom!

Martin has spoken about loving tragedies and tragic romances, so I’m very sympathetic to that concern. I no longer think we’re getting the ideal with Jonsa, so I even agree to a certain extent. However, the final book is called A Dream of Spring, and Spring carries certain meanings:

Knowing the book was initially going to be called A Time for Wolves, we know which house will benefit from this.

I view Dany’s goal of conquering Westeros, the intentional and unintentional catastrophe that she will cause during her invasion, as so antithetical to who Jon is, what he would be attracted to, and what Martin supports, that a mutual relationship between them wouldn’t merely be tragic, but would be the total undoing, moral and psychological undoing, of Jon. Think about how Ygritte disturbed him with her casual violence and then haunts him after her death, the toll a relationship with Dany would take on him, the state that it would leave him is goes beyond tragic, it’s purely destructive. for Jon to enter into such a relationship voluntarily would be part of Jon going down a very dark path he wouldn’t recover from. Imo, it wouldn’t be tragedy in the way people think of it, both dying fighting the others, but about mutual destruction. I don’t think that works with the tone we expect for the ending. Jon may not get a HEA, but it’s not a satisfactory ending to leave him in the worst place he’s ever been. I can buy a clean tragedy, I can’t buy that. Considering what’s in store for him, parentage reveal, the Others, Dany’s invasion, there’s already a lot going to be added to his plate, and at some point, you’d expect a bit of light to creep in there.

I’d imagine that comes in the form of romantic love, as Martin has what I would say is a high view of love. I’ve talked before about Sam and how he overcomes his fear that has ruled him for the sake of Gilly:

(link)

Love doesn’t just, randomly appear in the story, it changes the characters, for the better in this instance, it moves them and impacts the plot.

I don’t see in Jon the capability of rejecting the Starks, of betraying them in any way, and I certainly don’t think upon having siblings he believes are lost returned to him, he’d over prioritize an invader over their safety—he couldn’t with Ygritte, how much less likely now when his “new” family (the Watch) already betrayed him. If anything, I think his support and loyalty to the Starks will be hardened, even more resolute.

And if we read the Sam/Gilly scenes and see what Martin believes sincere love can do, I think we have reason to conclude that the Starks have the hopeful ending, so Jon will not end the story completely wrecked/a shell of a man, and instead, even in the midst of much personal trauma and turmoil, there will be a saving grace for him. Considering Martin’s stance on violence, it won’t be love for a warmonger that gives him a moment of peace or joy. Maybe we get the ideal ending for Jonsa, maybe we get a tragic ending for them, either way, I think it’s the only relationship that would allow for the right tone.

#dot chat #jonsa

[constantineshots]

as someone wit cancer (posting this anonymously because some ppl on the internet hear this and go fucking crazy) I’ve always found John Constantine is actually a really interesting rep In theory. I do think Delano like most things fumbles the bag when it comes to that topic but… it’s Delano what do you expect. I really like timelines where John gets treatment before it’s terminal (though usually that very idea seems out of character) or something it’s such a comfort hc. sorry for rambling. I was wondering how YOU interpreted johns cancer storylines as the John Constantine guy.

hey, you’re safe here, do what’s best for you! and I wish you the best. and never apologize for rambling! i love rambling. please keep rambling.

i’ll put this under a read more because i realized how long this is, but i hope it helps answer your question!

but as the john constantine girlie, it’s always been such an incredibly interesting plotline to me. he does take drastic measures to cure himself in the main vertigo timeline, and his interactions with other cancer patients and then realizing that this thing is terminal… it was intriguing. because it’s john. how he handles things is so much different than how others will. you’re never going to get the logical answer- “maybe he’ll get treatment.” “maybe he’ll go find healing magics that could help him.” “maybe he’ll go spend more time with his loved ones.” this is how most people would think to act. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have cancer, but if it were me, i feel like i’d be angry to be living on a timer, so i’d probably check a few things off my bucket list out of spite. not john constantine, though. instead he threatens a war in hell over his soul so everyone has to cure him.

john smokes cigarettes. we all know this to be a fact. however, he ends up getting terminal lung cancer as a result. it shows a very possible risk that most people aren’t willing to acknowledge until it’s too late.

i haven’t spoken to my mother in forever because our relationship was never good ( can’t you see why i like john constantine now? ), but in a way, it reminded me of her. she was a heavy smoker, and i, as a child who sometimes went over to her house begrudgingly, would be caught up in second hand smoke. as a result, these sorts of things were big worries of mine, and yet every time i told her she can’t do things like smoke inside the house and such, she’d just do it anyway. which put everyone at risk.

while, of course, cancer isn’t always caused by smoking, it can be, and she never took it seriously, not even when she was coughing badly and it was clearly dangerous for her health anyway. I don’t think she ever will.

within john’s character, though, we know he clearly didn’t care much. of course, he didn’t want to die because he knew he was going straight to hell at the time. so he concocted his little plan and ended up curing himself of cancer and not dying as a result… and then continuing with the bad habit. he’s a comic book character, so i guess it’s different, but i think it kind of sent the wrong message.

after a tale of john being distressed about having cancer and having to say goodbye to the people he cared about, or john meeting others who had cancer and being affected by the loss of someone who had died as a result of it, i think some expected him to put down the cigarettes. but alas, john has never been the kind of person to make good decisions.

so when i see him doing the smart thing in some storylines or aus that people write and so forth, i’m always stunned. like good on him, of course, handling his shit before it gets worse, but john has always liked to be a pain in the ass and wait until the worst possible moment. like the exact day he’s supposed to die for example. though i do enjoy these more, because it sends the right message…. john isn’t the kind of character you look to to give you the right message in most aspects. his political beliefs are good, but everything else is a dumpster fire.

but in my opinion, john constantine is a character- one of a rare few- who has cancer. there’s a described time of his struggles with it, some depression from it, the loss of someone he’d met who had it, and that was a journey. but then, in true john constantine fashion, the cornered rat idea he has, he cures himself of it- or, well, more forces some other beings to cure him of it, but hey.

that’s all i got, but feel free to explain further on anything you want to!

#asks #john constantine #hellblazer #tw: cancer

[forever-rogue]

Protective Nurse!Steve is everything to me 🫶🫶

Imagine the reader, being her clumsy self, fell down a few steps whilst walking down the stairs and it’s not too sinister until when she lands and bumps her stomach against something. More or less, possibly hurting Blob.

So she calls a friend and her friend drives her to the hospital as she curses herself and is worried that Steve will be annoyed. He obviously won’t be but still.

Reader’s crying in the back because Blob isn’t moving and she thinks that, because of some freak accident, she’s killed Blob.

When she gets to the hospital she gets checked over and finds out Blob’s alright, she’s happy but worried because the baby’s still not moving. And Steve runs into the room, comforting Reader since it’s obvious she’s been in hysterics and he’s usual Steve just being protective over Reader and blob and then Blob starts moving again and it’s just Steve letting her know that it’s not her fault and that accidents happen 🥹🥹

Wooft that was detailed 🫢🫢

AN | Okay, but clumsy girl was destined to have an accident but nothing would ever hurt Blob 🥺 I did take some liberty with this, but I hope y’all enjoy! This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Robin,” you huffed as you looked at the girl as she took the boxes out of your arms. The two of you had spent the last several hours looking through one of the local children’s stores…and probably buying way more than one baby needed. But now she was refusing to let you carry a single thing, “I’m not incapable of carrying a few light boxes.”

“No way,” she shook your head, arms stacked and laden with all of your purchases, “I’m not letting you hurt yourself or my niece.”

“I wouldn’t hurt myself,” you mumbled but stopped when you saw the way she raised her eyebrows, “fine. So maybe I’m a little clumsy but - but I haven’t hurt myself at all since I’ve been pregnant.”

“Impressive,” she laughed, her pretty eyes twinkling in amusement, “you’ve gone a whole six months without injury. That’s one for the books!”

“Har har,” you laughed softly, “you and Steve are just so cruel to me.”

“By pointing out the obvious?” The two of you started your walk back to the car, weaving your way throughout the outdoor mall. You felt bad that Robin was doing all the heavy lifting, metaphorically anyway, but you knew that she did it out of love and care. If the roles were reversed, you knew you’d be doing the exact same thing for her.

You stuck your tongue out at her, and started to go down the stairs…and promptly lost your footing, sliding down the wet, slippery stairs. It happened so fast and was over before you knew but at the same time it felt like it all happened in slow motion. By the end of it all you were on the ground, on your side and in some mild pain. The shock of it all was the worst and had you trying to catch your breath, as you looked at Robin with wide eyes.

“Oh no,” she almost dropped everything as she rushed over to you, her own eyes wide and worried. She took your hands and held you to sit up, taking your face in her hands as she looked you over, “are you hurt? Is…are you okay?”

“I think so,” you could feel the tears prickling at the back of your eyes as panic set in. It wasn’t so much pain, more so the worry that set in at the possibility you might have hurt the baby, “I-I…blob. I don’t think anything happened but I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” she promised, attempting to sound firm and sure so you wouldn’t panic more. One of you had to be strong right now and it definitely wasn’t going to be you. Robin gently helped you to your feet, brushing off any dirt clinging onto you, “I think it’s a good idea if we go and get you checked out, just in case.”

“The hospital?” your eyes widened, and a pout settled on your features. You hated going to the hospital…even the mere idea of it was enough to make your insides squirm. She nodded as a few tears pearled up and rolled down your cheeks, which she gently wiped. You sniffled, “I want Steve.”

“Well, let’s go and see Steve,” she offered you a meek little smile as she went to pout the discarded purchases. All she was going to focus on was getting you to the hospital, “I promise that everything will be fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded through a slow exhale, “okay.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Finding yourself in the sterile, familiar room once again felt like a weird dream. You sighed as you sat on the table, anxiously swinging your legs back and forth as you rested a hand on your belly. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as you waited for news, any sort of news at this point. Robin was still in the lobby and waiting for you, and you weren’t sure if Steve was going to be able to see you. You hated asking anyway, knowing how busy he usually was. 

Eventually a light knock came at the door and you startled at the sudden interruption of your quiet contemplation and fear. 

“Come in,” the door slowly creaked open and a huge wave of emotion washed over you at the sight of Steve coming in. The tears were back in full force, flowing down your face as your husband wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his chest, already feeling better from his mere presence, “Stevie.”

“Angel,” he pulled back and took your face in his hands, gently brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “it’s okay. It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey,” he put his finger under your chin as he turned your face up to meet his, “there is nothing to be sorry for. These things happen…and honestly, my clumsy girl, I’m surprised something like this hasn’t happened sooner. I’m glad you’re okay, and Blob is okay too.”

“What if I hurt her?” you asked softly, eyes wide with worry, “what if I hurt our baby?”

“She’s okay,” he put his hand on top of yours where it was resting against your belly and gave it a gentle squeeze, “you’re okay, she’s okay, we’re all okay.”

“Are you mad?” you looked at him with big doe eyes, tears glistening there and Steve felt his own heart break. He was positive that nothing was wrong with the baby, and he loathed the idea that you were blaming yourself for a complete accident, “please don’t be mad. I-I-I didn’t mean to.”

“Baby,” his voice took a more firm tone as he crouched down so he was eye level with you, “I am not mad or upset. I’m so glad you came, honey. The only thing I’m worried about is you. Making sure you’re okay physically and emotionally. Blob is safe and sound.”

“Steve,” your lip trembled with effort as you put your hand on his forearm as you held onto it tightly, “I haven’t felt her move.”

You saw the expression on his face pale for a moment before he collected himself and shook his head, “that’s okay, angel. She doesn’t move all the time, and just because she’s not moving now doesn’t mean something is wrong.”

“Steve,” you sighed heavily, “I fell and suddenly she’s not moving around? It doesn’t seem like a coincidence. Maybe I-I crushed or something. I just…our baby. Steve, I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her.”

Before Steve could say anything to try and talk you down, another knock came at the door as the doctor slowly entered. A small bit of relief washed over you when you realized it was one of your favorite doctors at the hospital. One of the many perks of marrying a nurse was becoming personally acquainted with much of the hospital’s staff. 

“Mrs. Harrington,” she smiled softly as she grabbed a pen out of her pocket to begin taking notes, “Steve. Normally I love seeing you both - but I don’t love seeing you here. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? You fell?”

“Yeah,” you hung your head, “I was with my friend and we were talking and walking down some stairs, they were slippery from the rain, and I just slipped and fell down some of them.”

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“I landed on my side so my hip is a little sore but otherwise it didn’t seem like anything was wrong,” you explained, Steve’s arm wrapping around your shoulder, “but I didn’t want…I panicked a little bit and came in.”

“Okay,” she studied you and you swallowed thickly, “do you think something happened to the baby?”

“She’s not moving,” it was a squeak of an admission as you tried to get her to move, “and she’s been active a lot lately. And I just…I want to make sure nothing is wrong.”

“I’m almost positive that everything is fine,” she insisted softly, “sometimes babies go through periods where they’re more active than others. There’s no rhyme or reason for it. But we’ll do some tests and get in and ultrasound just to make sure, okay?”

“Please,” you nodded, dabbing at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, “I just want to be sure that she’s okay.”

“And we’ll get you all the answers,” she promised, “you’re in good hands here.”

“I know,” you reached for Steve’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “thank you,”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You still felt half hysterical as you stared as you laid on the table, waiting for confirmation that nothing was wrong. Your shirt was pulled up and belly exposed, slathered in cold gel as the ultrasound tech got to work. You loved her too - she’d been with you since the beginning of your pregnancy and always had a reassuring presence about her. Steve was at your side, your hand clutched tightly in his. He kept whispering soft reassurances in your ear, which helped to ease your worry ever so slightly. 

“Alright,” she stuck the wand on your belly and started to move it around, and you almost held your breath. She moved it around, and you saw your little blob appear on the screen. That alone made you relax, even though you were well aware that there was still a baby there, “well, that is one good looking baby.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly and she nodded. The fact that you didn’t hear anything or see any movement, didn’t help however, “is she…is…”

The fact that the sonogram hadn’t picked up her heartbeat was making you nervous. The logical part of your brain knew that just because you didn’t hear the sound immediately didn’t mean anything was wrong. Steve grimaced when he felt how tightly you were squeezing his hand but kept his face as neutral as possible. 

She moved the wand around your stomach and you squinted as you stared at the screen to see if you could pick up any movement. Worry and fear squeezed at your heart as every horrible scenario ran through your mind. 

But then you heard it…softly at first but then strong and steady and nothing but relief washed over you. Steve let out a small sigh of relief as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 

“There we are,” she smiled softly at you, pointing out the different parts of the baby on the screen, “all safe and sound and healthy.”

“She’s okay?” you really didn’t trust anything right now but she nodded at you, “please tell me she’s okay.”

“She’s okay,” she promised, “steady heart beat and there’s movement. But just to do a full check up, we’ll do some blood work too, alright?”

“Yes please,” you leaned your head on Steve’s shoulder, “thank you so much. I feel silly now…but I’d rather just be sure, you know?”

“I understand,” she nodded sweetly, not judging you in the slightest. She’d seen this same type of thing many times before, “besides, it’s your first child. Everything is all new and different for you, so it’s natural to be worried and have heightened senses around…well, everything. But it’s okay - it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?”

“Right,” you closed your eyes and let out a long sigh, “sorry for panicking like this, Stevie.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, angel,” he insisted softly, “I’m sure it’d be the same if the roles were reversed. And now we know that she’s alright, and you are too. I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too,” you pressed a kiss to your cheek, “you and blob. So, so much.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey sweetheart,” your eyes opened at the sound of his soft voice, a sleepy smile tugging up the corners of your mouth. Steve was crouched next to you, brushing your hair out of your face, “have a nice nap sleepyhead?”

“Unintended nap,” you replied sheepishly, “I sat down for all of five minutes and fell asleep.”

“It was a long day,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before sitting on the couch next to you and pulling you into his lap. You made a small sound of contend as you made yourself comfortable and looked at him with soft eyes, “are you feeling alright?”

“Better now,” you promised, carding a hand through his soft locks, “now that we’re both home and cuddling. It was a long day…I can’t believe I just…fell. Well all of it.”

“Are we really that surprised?” there was a cocky grin on his face as he raised an eyebrow. You huffed playfully before gent;y pushing your hand against his chest. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist and your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “sorry clumsy girl, you know it’s all in good fun.”

“For all of you!” you groaned, “I’m the one suffering. Well…kind of. I’m not really hurt or suffering. Just the butt of the joke. I hope you're happy with yourself, Steve.”

“Very,” he snorted in amusement, “but more than anything, I’m glad my girls are okay.”

“Me too,” you agreed, “I’m glad Robin was with me and kept me calm. And I’m glad you were able to be with me.”

“I would have done anything to be with you,” he promised and you knew what he was saying was true. This was Steve after all, “you know that.”

“I do,” you promised softly, “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you,” he put his hand on your hand on your belly which caused Blob to flutter gently, “and you too, little Blob. Both my girls.”

“And we love you, Stevie.”

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