#and I can see people walking on the sides above the surface

[monstersighing]

MDNI 18+

Summer Storm

Tentacled Sea God Monster x AFAB Reader

Words: 1600

Content Warnings: NSFW, tentacles, non-human genitalia, light somnophilia, blindfolding, come play, praise kink, face fucking.

A prequel to this.

+++

You move to the town in spring. It’s a quaint place next to the sea and the job you lucked into keeps you busy during the day, but the nights are lonely.

The locals are nice enough but seem shocked whenever you tell them you’re living right next to the seashore. The rent was suspiciously low and the homes on either side of you are empty. You assumed it was because it was out of season and the other houses were holiday homes. Once, your colleague muttered about bewitching sea creatures. You laughed because who believes in things like that in the modern world. You chalked it up as a story made up to scare out-of-towners.

+++

Summer should be over, but a late heat wave has you hot and restless. You’ve left the window open a crack and the breeze blows over your skin as you lie on your bed. It’s humid and you’ve stripped down to your underwear. You hope the weather will break soon.

No one comes to this end of the beach to walk or even in a boat to fish, perhaps because of the sharp rocks that poke out of the sea, visible even at high tide. You leave the curtains in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in your bedroom open at night. You don’t bother to close them when you slide your hands up to palm your chest and tease each nipple.

You’re restless, so you tease your hands over the sensitive skin of your thighs, circling your fingers closer to your cunt and then away, over and over. You think about what you want: to be held tight, to be told what to do, to be fucked until you can’t think. You slide two fingers across your leaking cunt, gather the wetness and rub it over your clit. When you push those fingers inside your hole you imagine being fucked into and brought to the edge of pleasure over and over until your cunt not being filled would feel like a loss. You come hard, with your pussy clenching at your fingers.

I want someone to take me, you think as you fall asleep.

You dream of walking out of your home and onto the sand, and then into the cool water of the sea, guided by a voice that tells you it will give you what you want; that it will give you what you need. The water laps against your ankles, and you wade forward until you are knee-deep. You turn and look at your home on the seashore, your bedside lamp lighting up the bedroom.

You sense a presence behind you. Before you can turn, hands grasp your arms and sharp teeth press into the side of your neck.

“Mine,” a voice says, warm and possessive.

A body, tall and broad, presses against your back and then you feel something slipping over your waist. You look down to see tentacles. Tiny pinpricks of light shift over their surface, and their tips stroke across any exposed piece of skin they can reach.

“Yours? Take me then.” You push your underwear down your hips and kick them into the water, and press your ass back against the body behind you, then--

You wake up to the blare of your alarm.

After lying in bed for a few minutes replaying the dream – how vivid it was, and how strange - you shake it off and get up to get a shower before work.

+++

This dream is different. You’re laid out on your bed and being covered with a thousand touches. Tentacles shift against your thighs, others squeeze your breasts and use their suckers to pull at your nipples, making them stiff and tender.

You push your thighs together, aching for friction.

“No,” a voice says.

You jerk and open your eyes, but it stays dark. Your hands reach up and you feel something pressing across your eyes. Heavy, cylindrical, cool to the touch: another of this creature’s appendages, then? It’s pressed lightly across your eyes, like a blindfold.

“I came for you,” a voice says from above you. It’s the voice from the dream, low and vibrating.

“You- you were a dream.”

“I’m not that. I am what the people here used to call a god of the sea, and worship as such. I hear pleas like yours. And I decide whether to answer them.” The bed dips under his weight and you smell the bright marine scent of the sea god as he crouches above you. His hands press down on either side of your head, and he rumbles in your ear, “I heard you, and then I saw you. You looked so desperate laid out on your bed. So alone. I decided to answer. And now I am here.” He presses a thumb to your lower lip and strokes. “Do you want me to continue?”

You nod your head.

“Out loud.”

“Yes,” you say.

“Good girl,” the sea god says, and you feel a rush of heat flush down your face and neck.

“My name is [name], not girl,” you say.

There’s a huff of amusement from the sea god, and he says, “You may call me Lir.” And then the tentacles around your thighs tighten and pull your legs apart and fold your knees.

Lir’s finger trails up your slit and begins to rub at your clit. “You look perfect,” he says. You feel vulnerable, exposed like this.

“I want to see you,” you say.

“When you’ve earned it.”

He kisses you then. His mouth tastes of salt. His finger continues to rub at your clit as a tentacle joins it, circling your entrance. It pushes inside slowly, the girth increasing as it goes until you feel stretched and full. Another feeler wriggles in after. The two tentacles set up an undulating rhythm, pushing in and out in counterpoint. Pleasure rises within you in overlapping waves.

Lir’s position above you means you can feel his cock graze the skin of your heaving belly and drip pre-cum on your skin. The brush of his cock, the sound of his tentacles inside your wet hole: It’s both too much and not enough. But when you try to shift - to push the tentacles further inside or pull away, you’re not sure - the appendages on your thighs just grip tighter, holding you immobile.

The tentacles inside you twine then stiffen further, pushing at the walls of your cunt. You tilt up your chin, a silent please to be kissed, and Lir does. As his tongue slips into your mouth there is a simultaneous push in and up by the tenacles inside you, and they hit a spot that turns everything into white noise. They return to that spot again and again until you come with your hips trying to jerk up and failing, your body still pinned in place.

The tentacle over your eyes slips away, but you keep your eyes closed. The ones in your cunt untwine and slowly slip out of your swollen hole, leaving you feeling empty. Your legs are lowered to the bed.

“You were good,” Lir says. “So you may open your eyes.”

You do, and you see he is beautiful. Bent above you so your face is almost touching his, you can see his skin is mottled in shades of dark and paler grey. His eyes are large and intense, and his hair surrounds his face in black waves. His face looks kinder than you imagined, and his mouth is wide and generous.

You look down and see the proud jut of his cock. It’s thick, with a ring of suckers near its base. A fringe of small feelers surrounds it where a man might have pubic hair. You want it in your mouth.

“Please,” you say, “please let me-” And you don’t finish because Lir’s hands are around your waist to pull you up against the headboard of the bed. He rises and pushes his cock towards you, and you lean forward to suck it into your mouth.

The thickness of Lir's cock makes your mouth stretch wide, and drool drips down your chin. It’s too long to fit fully so you alternate between taking as much as you can and pulling off to twist your hand around the base whilst lapping at the head. Lir’s hips shift minutely back and forth. His hand settles on top of your head but it doesn’t push. With a frustrated noise, you pull your mouth off his cock and say, “Do it.”

Lir's hands tighten in your hair, and he pulls your face forward until your lips are stretched around the ringed base of his cock. You feel it head slam against the back of your throat, shift back and then slip past as he fucks your face. Back and forth, back and forth: his cock fills your mouth so fully that you can’t breathe. Your eyes water as he holds your head against his crotch and his cock slips deep into your throat. You feel his cock twitch, and with a grunt, he pulls you off and tilts your face back. He grips his cock with his other hand and pumps it - once, twice - and comes across your mouth and chin in spurts.

When your breath has become less ragged, you lean forward, close your eyes and lick the head of Lir’s cock clean. The tendrils around the base of his cock fan across your face as you do this, brushing the spilt come into your mouth for you to swallow. Your mind drifts, and it’s only Lir’s hand on your face that makes you open your eyes again.

“Sleep now,” Lir says. He turns you onto your side and settles behind you. His arm drapes over your waist, and his tentacles tangle around your legs.

“Sweet dreams,” you say. Lir makes a noise that might just be amusement and presses a closed-mouthed kiss to the back of your neck.

You look out of the window and see that it has begun to rain.

#monster smut #nsft #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster romance #monsterfucker #monster lover #terato #exophilia #monster fucking #monster kink #monstersighing #tentacles

[ecneremili]

The One With The Proposal

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), slight BDSM (use of cuffs), delayed orgasm, P in V sex, unprotected sex (people pls be safe), creampie, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Well... Okay. There's a few things you need to know about this piece of work you're about to read. This is actually a part of my series that I'm writing on Wattpad. I will put the link below in case you want to read the whole thing. It's not finished, I'm still writing it. This chapter, however, can be a standalone and can be viewed as a one-shot, so I decided to post it here, too. I wish you an enjoyable reading. Oh, and this is not read through, so if you find some mistakes, pretend that you didn't.

Wattpad acc link: here

Spencer Reid. A man known for several things. His knowledge. A brilliant man, whom the FBI owes many thanks. Uncountable cases that he helped solve that would probably stay unsolved without him. His blabbering. He had a whole paragraph ready to shout out on anything you say. The sky? Fun fact... The book you're looking at? Fun fact, the author actually... A specific person who's dead or alive or never surfaced for something they did? Fun fact about them...

You will never see him wear anything outside of professional clothes. Comfortable professional clothes. Sweaters, cardigans. He sometimes reminds me of older women who wrap themselves in their cardigans. You will never hear him swear. Not in public, anyway. The most he said once was goddamn it. The entire team was left in shock. Penelope was even scared of him that day.

He will stutter in conversations and situations that make him even slightly uncomfortable. He has a germ thing. He never shakes hands or hugs with random people. He makes contact with his friends, me, and some close people like his mother, Diane.

Now put all that into an image and try to picture that man. A shy, uncomfortable, boyish man. Stuck reading books when he has free time. No, no. He cancels plans to stay indoors and read books. Even re-read them.

That same man proposed to me half an hour ago. It was small, intimate, and sentimental. We walked by the restaurant where we confessed we loved each other. He let my hand go and I took a few steps ahead. When I turned back, he was down on one knee and held a small box in his hands.

I said yes.

I said yes more than once.

He was the sweetest man. He was mine. I loved to be loved by him. Delicate, heartwarming, caring and sweet. The man I just described above.

That same man was driving us home at the moment, his dick hard, bulging in his pants, one hand or the wheel, the other deep in my cunt while curving his knuckles at a new angle as he fucked me.

Every person has two sides.

And boy, oh boy, did I love his other side.

Everything anyone knew about Spencer, they would say he would be a sweet, whiney, submissive man during intimacy. I beg to differ.

His fingers twirling inside me, I huff as I refuse to moan just yet. I hated the way he could make me fold so, so easily. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. My mouth is open and I can't hold in pleads from him. His fingers are long. I love his fingers. But his cock is bigger.

He pulls into our parking space and he removes his hand from under my dress. He walks out and comes around to open my door. I begin to come out when he stops me, picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. I yelp, feeling almost powerless. He slams the door and locks the car and continues to carry me up almost three flights of stairs. The apartment door flies open before we go in. He closes it with his leg and heads directly to our bedroom.

I can't help but blush. I felt like a tiny girl. How disgusting that the tiny girl imagined all the things he would do to her in a few moments. He slides me down and steps back to look at me. His eyes scan me, from the smallest hair on the top of my head all the way down to my toes. There's a devilish desire in his eyes, his mouth parted ever so slightly. His eyes come back to mine and he, almost growling, says, "I kneeled for you, now go ahead and kneel for me."

Tingles run down my entire body. I don't hesitate to obligate his request. Not a request. He demanded. And I wasn't going to defy this. I wasn't going to defy him. Not breaking eye contact, I slide down on my knees, perfectly aligned with his belt. I look ahead, seeing him painfully hard in his pants. I slide my hands up his legs and start undoing his pants. Every clank makes me tingle between my legs.

There was a specific time when a powerful, strong and independent woman only wants, no, only needs to be told what to do. I raised myself from nothing. No one helped me. I could only thank myself for everything I have accomplished in my life. I would listen to no man. No man had the power over me. No man could take nothing from me. Except him. He had all of me wrapped around his little finger.

And I didn't mind.

Being submissive to someone means so much more then people think. It means trust. It means love. Truth be told, not every submissive person tends to be like that in everyday life. Don't get me wrong, I know what comes to mind when you think of someone like that. Porn taught us so wrongly. And this? This was so much more intimate then just porn. This was desire, lust, and pure neediness.

After undoing his belt, I pulled down his pants, tugging his underwear to, removing them to. I would skip everything just to feel him. Being released from his clothes was hitting him sweetly as he took a sharp breath when my eyes fell to his dick.

I look up, almost lustful, maybe waiting for him to tell me to touch him, maybe even to beg me, a whole 180 to what I just described myself as. His eyes were dark and watching me from a high. He simply smirked, almost reading my mind and what was going through it.

"Go on," he half whispered, voice deep just like the darkness around us, "be the slut the outside world has no idea you are."

And that was all it took. My hand takes his base before I stick out my tongue and slide it up his entire length. There was a lot of length. He inhales, pushing a groan down his throat at the first touch I plant on him.

This was going to be a long night.

The kiss I leave at his tip as I start stroking him with my hand sends his head falling back. The motion pushes his curls off of his forehead. I loved when his hair fell on his face. It made him look messy. It made him look more flustered. And the image of him like that made me throb between my legs.

After enough slow-play, I stick out my tongue and take him in my mouth, slowly, reaching as far as I could before I feel him touch my throat. He feels he reached far and he groans. The funny thing is I had taken only half of him. He looks down again, his hairs flying back to his face. His fingers twist around in my hair and tug slightly, almost like he was checking the grip he had on my head.

But I soon found out it wasn't the grip why I thought he wanted it. He held my head in place as he started to rock back and forth. He was using me. Using my mouth to be precise. And he started fucking it. At first it was slow, almost shallow thrusts, reaching where he first did. But as time passed, he became more fierce. He started going deeper, hitting the back of my throat with more force making me gag. My eyes started to water as I had no control over anything. His hand held my head in place as he now almost pounded into my mouth.

As he continued, I could feel him twitch on the top of my mouth. And so did I. I felt my panties dampen with every second that passed. I was horny because my boyfriend, my fiancé, was fucking my throat like it was just something for him to use.

Muffled moans and occasional groans escaped his mouth. He was about to finish. I could easily tell by the increased speed of his thrusts and their force. Finally, he pushed himself almost the whole way, deep into my throat and let himself release there. I gagged pretty hard, trying to keep him down and not throw out his cum.

He pulled himself out and let go of his grip on my hair. His hand slid from behind to my chin and he lifted my face up. He was taking deep and long breaths, his chest falling and rising every time. His eyes scanned me, a fucked mouth, watery eyes and bright red cheeks. Must have been quite a sight.

"Swallow, baby." he said and left his mouth slightly opened, watching as the small bulb went down my throat and he smiled in satisfaction. "Good girl. Your turn."

He bent down and picked me up to carry me to the bed. Back facing the mattress, he climbed on top and roughly kissed me. I loved when he did that. After what I just did, he didn't hesitate to kiss me. He didn't get disgusted to do so. His fingers hooked around the hem of my dress and he pulled it off in one quick motion. I was left in my bra and panties that were already soaking wet. Every time he saw me like that, dressed but not dressed, I'd get shy.

I never liked my body. And yet he worshipped it.

"God, you're so gorgeous." he hovered over me, his eyes trailing over every inch of my body. I shivered from his words that sounded like a prayer. It was half whispers. Like he was afraid that if someone heard what he had, it would be stolen from him.

His lips come down and start kissing my neck, my weak spot. Just the warmth of his kiss makes me moan, eager for more as I buck my hips up towards him. I feel that I caress his cock against my thigh, and as soon as he feels it, he pushes my hips down with his hands.

"Needy, are we?" he chuckles against my skin as he now slowly moves lower and leaves a trail of kisses at my collarbone.

"I hate when you do this." I whine, my fingers roaming through his hair.

"You hate when I kiss you?" he says between kisses, one on my shoulder, one at the base of my neck, one directly in between my breasts.

"No, I-" my words get interrupted when I moan. I feel him smile when he hears me. "I hate when you make me wait. You tease. Every time." I take a deep breath in between every sentence to take in his kisses. As much as I did hate the delay of the actual sex, I loved feeling him everywhere. I didn't know what I wanted more.

He continues kissing, his lips reaching my stomach and he stops. I look down to see him slightly smirking as he is settled just between my legs. I feel shivers. He lets go of my hips and slowly pulls down my panties, sliding his fingers down along my legs in the process. He is continuing to tease me with every touch he leaves on my body.

When I finally think that he is going to stick his tongue at my cunt, I am yet again met with disappointment. He comes over me and trails his hands, slowly, around my back as he keeps looking me in the eyes to catch every whiney face I make as I plead him to fuck me already using no words. But he knows. Oh, he knows that's what I'm asking of him.

He unhooks my bra and I am completely naked. His shirt comes off as he makes us even. Again, I hope that he will now go down. It doesn't have to be his mouth, I'll be happy if he would just stick his fucking fingers into my pussy and rummage through it. But, no. He bends down and kisses my breasts, moving from one to the other. Kissing it, sucking on the nipples, squeezing them with his hands.

If he was kissing and/or sucking the right he would be squeezing the left. There was no space left for me to catch a breath. Then, he bit down on one, just enough to make me squeal. He chuckled with my tit in his mouth. I had enough. I gripped his hair and pulled him up to my face.

"What do you fucking want from me?" I say with a whiney voice. I sounded desperate. I hated it. I loved it, too.

His face had a drunk smile across it. He was enjoying this. My torture was satisfaction for him. Fucking great. "I want you to beg." he said through a whisper. His head was tilted back as I was pulling his hair.

I hated to beg him. Especially to do what I wanted. I knew he knows what I want, but he loves when he makes me break and I have nothing left but to fucking beg him to do the most unholy things to me.

I roll my eyes. "No." I simply say.

He smirks and bucks his hips so his dick slides over my dripping cunt. My entire body arches and he smiles again. "Beg, my love. Use that mouth for something else then a place for me to dump my cum."

That mother fucker. "You assh-" he bucks his hips again and breaks me mid-sentence. I growl at him.

"I don't think that's how begging works. C'mon. Beg me to fuck you. I know you want to."

It was weird hearing him swear. Not just swear, but use vulgar words in general. I used them everyday. It was like saying 'hi' to someone. But Spencer? Noup.

I gave up. I close my eyes and just make peace with my fate. "Please, Spencer."

He bends down and kisses my lips. "You have to be specific, my love. What do you want from me?"

I'm boiling at this point. Do I have a choice? If I want to be fucked, not really. "I want you to fuck me, please me, make me cum. I'm fucking tired of being teased." I practically cry out the last part.

He smirks and I let go of my grip on his hair. He doesn't move, he is still looking me directly in the eyes as he slides one hand down and caresses my inner thigh. He goes over my cunt with his entire hand and I loudly gasp. He watches, enjoys the reactions he gets as he touches me. He brings his hand up and licks his two fingers and then slides them down again.

Baby, you don't need no more moisture, I'm wet enough.

His hand finally connects to my core and he starts making circles around my clit. My body erupts. I no longer have control over my reactions. My eyebrows furrow, my mouth is wide open and it's letting out moans, whines, sounds I didn't even know I could make. And he simply watches. From time to time he would bend down and kiss my neck, maybe even bite down on it, making me buck my entire body up.

"God, you're so fucking wet." he says and starts rubbing up and down my entrance. "You're so pretty. My pretty girl."

I'm melting. Melting into his sinister hands that are touching me in the most horrid ways. And I wouldn't stop him even in a million fucking years.

He slides the fingers in, gently, slowly, caringly. I let out a loud moan, slapping my mouth after I do. Just as I did, his other hand takes my wrist and pulls it off. Holding it, he collects my other hand and pins both of them above my head. "Why would you do that?" he asks. But I don't answer, it's a rhetorical question. "You sound so beautiful when you moan for me. You sound so pretty."

His knuckles are now buried deep inside my pussy and he starts to pump them in and out. When he slides them back in, his thumb hits my clit and he curls his fingers inside just enough to hit that little spot. Every movement he made was followed by that wet sound. I just knew his fingers were drowning in my arousal, and I just knew he was so eager to put his cock inside there too.

He kisses my jaw, my neck, my cheeks. He is enjoying this. Pleasuring someone you truly love is pleasure to you as well. His other hand in on my thigh, pulling it away so he has better access and can slide in deeper then he usually could. In between my own sounds, I can hear him groan whenever I jerk my hips upward and slightly stoke him against my leg.

I want more. Now, I'm just desperate because I don't want to finish now. I want to cum over his cock while he is buried all the way inside. I want him to see that little blub in my stomach appear and disappear as he fucks me.

Like on cue, as if he heard me, he pulls his hand away and climbs the bed again. Pushing my legs fully apart, he aligns himself at my entrance. He pushes, but purposefully jerks himself up so he slides against my clit. I see him place himself on my abdomen as if he is looking how far he goes when he's inside.

"Look at how deep I can bury myself in you, love." he admires and glides his fingers over my skin. He pulls back and leans over to the drawer next to our bed. For a moment he rummages through it. "Shit."

I look over, trying to figure out what was going on. "What is it?"

He pauses and looks at me. "We don't have any condoms."

Well shit.

But I put on my big girl face. "And?"

He looks slightly surprised by my reaction. "No protection?"

I shrug. "What's the worst that can happen?" I smirk, moving myself lower on the bed and connecting myself with him. He really was hard.

He says nothing and just enters. He pushes in with quite a bit of force. I let out a quiet scream at his motion. I still needed time to adjust to his length. But he didn't care. He was already in full force, starting to pick up the pace of his thrusts. His hands go down and wrap around my hips and he uses them to pull me on himself as he continues to pound me.

The room is filled with my whines and moans, the sounds of our hips connecting and slamming against each other, and his groans. I love when he groans. I know he feels good. I make him feel good.

"You're so tight. It's so warm inside." he says through rough groans.

His fingers are diving inside the skin of my hips. I feel pain as he squeezes them. I push the feeling away, I even don't have to. The feeling of his dick hitting my deepest point is strong enough to push it away almost instantly.

The repetitive slamming into me lures my finish to approach. It's forming in my gut and I feel it slowly coming as he continues fucking me mercilessly, rough and fast thrusts.

"I'm gonna cum- Oh, God, Spence." I saw, although I'm not sure how I managed to.

Just as I said that, I felt my climax get at its highest point, and I was about to finish-

He pulls out.

What the fuck?!

"Wha- what are you doing?" I stutter, the high still in the air but it's fading away.

He looks down and has a wicked smile on his face. His cheeks are deep red and his hair is damp from his sweat. "I'm not done with you. Turn around."

I'm mad. Furious. I want to defy him so badly, I want to say 'no', maybe even flip him off. But I want to finish. I was just about to. So I do as I'm told. I prompt myself up and turn around and stand on all fours on the bed. Might I add that this is my favorite position.

I expect him to align himself again and continue to thrust like he did, but he gets off the bed and walks over to the corner of the room. The corner where he keeps his bag for work. I hear a clank before he walks back behind me. He places his hand on my upper back and slightly pushes, indicating for me to lower myself even more. My face and chest lay on the mattress. My ass is now the only thing in the air.

This position gives him more access. I am ready for it to hurt before I can adjust myself to his length again at this angle. Yet again, I don't get what I'm expecting. He takes my wrist and places it behind my back, then the other and connects it with my other one. I hear that clank again. He takes one of my wrists again and puts the metal around it.

It's his fucking cuffs.

He puts his cuffs on and thugs on the chain between them to pull my arms back. He pulls so much that I have to lift myself slightly off the bed. I tremble. Out of excitement. Our of slight fear. Out of horniness, simply.

I feel him bend down and kiss my back. He knows I love that. It feels very intimate to me. He kisses down my spine and then slaps my ass. I yelp, not just by the sudden contact, but also because he slapped it pretty hardly. Not enough to leave a bruise, but it will definitely go red in a few seconds.

"You ready?"

There are certain points in our sex life when he asks, or even simply warns to hold on tight to anything. Since I was obviously restrained, he's asking. That is enough to know this was going to be really good.

"Yeah." I whisper, my face buried back into our bed.

"You know I love you, right?" he whispers again and pushes his tip into my cunt.

My breath trembles since I was still sensitive from the high I missed a few minutes ago. "I know."

"Good. Because for the next few minutes it might not look like I do."

He didn't give me time to respond. He slammed himself inside, making me scream out. This was enough for the neighbors to hear. He started thrusting. I still wasn't adjusted to this position, and his cock was hitting from a new angle that allowed much better access. I felt pain. But, God, was it good. My eyes started watering from the pain as I couldn't take it. I prayed that my pussy would stretch just slightly so I could take him a bit easier.

After a short while, I did. The slight pain was still there. It couldn't really go away from the force he was driving himself in. And then it happened. He slapped my ass again. It was a strong slap. His hand was big enough to cover my entire cheek. I yelp at the sudden pain.

As he continues to thrust, I feel him occasionally twitch. That can mean only one thing. He is about to cum again. Just when I realize that, he speeds up. He pulls on the cuffs and makes me get up from the bed. He's pulling hard enough to hold me in the air.

He hits again, going back to squeeze after. I feel the slight burn of his slaps. Another one connects to my skin and with it I feel that high again. I don't want it to escape again, so I bend slightly so he feels me letting him slide even deeper.

Spencer quickly realizes what I'm trying to tell him, but there's not much left before I feel him hammer himself once, then again, just as I feel my climax release. I scream out, and I feel him empty himself inside.

It takes him a few seconds to calm down before he lets me fall down on the bed again. I'm a fucking mess. He takes off the cuffs and places my hands on my sides before he bends down and removes my hair from the back of my neck and kisses in that spot.

"My perfect girl." he cooed. "You're so fucking special."

I breathe deeply. "Well..." I begin as he lays down next to me. "That was fun." I feel his cum drip down out of my cunt.

He chortles. "That's one way to put it."

I was about to marry this man. I loved every inch of him. Every version there was of him. There was nothing that could take that away from me.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid prompt

[granolawriting]

Sarahs teacher ༊*·˚

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Joel saves you from a uncomfortable interaction with a drunk, and it quickly devolved with him fucking you in a single stall at the bar. Though when you see the little drawings his daughter leaves in his car, you peice together your connection only after it's too late.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, age gap, grey hairs so hes about that old, picture part 2 joel cause he's the sexiest, also this outfit he has on is pretty acruate to how I pictured him while writing, hair pulling, p in v, creampie, surface level degrading (slut, whore), praise degrading (pretty slut), pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby), southern hospitality!, crazy confident and blunt, breif harassment (not by joel), biting, leaving a mark, dom!Joel, sarah mentioned/met

word count: 4.4k

masterlist

inspired / requested by this wonderful anon!

Clanging of glass against wooden tables, the saturated musk of whiskey and heated bodies overwhelms your senses as you walk within the bar. 

You watch as men raise voices in argument over games blaring on TVs hung high over the center of the room, feeling eyes trace your shape as you make your way to the counter. 

“Just water for now, please.” 

The bartender obliged, and as you sit down upon old wooden barstools with short backs to provide minor support to your height off the ground, a pair of eyes seems to fall on you that feels a bit more welcomed than those prior. 

Hair fell long right above his eye, salt and peppered hair that was well groomed though currently unkempt in a way-- as though the day had been long on him. Multicolored stubble compliments the smirk of the man that gazed upon you with dark brown eyes hooded by thick lashes. His skin was tanned, and complemented greatly by the dark brown of his jacket coupled with the muted greens of a flannel below it. He had his sleeves rolled up, seeing both his elbows placed on the counter as a glass of whisky was held lightly between a few fingers over the cup just a few inches from his face did he soak in every part of you with his gaze. 

His eyes resting on yours set your body aflame, the confidence of his intent made you compelled to want to let him do whatever he wished. A man probably twice your age, like a fine wine did he fire off nerves within you that even men you adored couldn't properly emulate. He was experienced, cocky. He wasn't shy about getting what he wanted like most men your age, and that felt new to you. 

You were getting ahead of yourself, within the few seconds that held eye contact between you and this stranger you felt an eternity of lust seep deep in the pits of your stomach. There was no means to even believe that was his intent, the most you can really give yourself was the complement of his elongated gaze affixed on you. But after a few moments his eyes tore away and engaged in what played on the TVs, and watched as the people went by. Leaving you to yourself for a moment to yearn for him, after so much as a glance. 

… 

“This drink came from the man right down there.” 

What sat before you was some sort of vodka tonic, and as your head moved to glance upon that stranger once more with a welling of anticipation for his next move, a different hand shot out and waved to claim that prize. Your heart sank. Some 20 something stood to approach you, a hat upon laid back hair that sported some football team you knew nothing about, and the careful steps of a man trying to impress whilst also being a few drinks in. he slides up tho the empty space on the counter next to you, and elbow propped against your side to lean in, does the stench of cheap liquor and sweat permeate your senses as he begins to talk to you. 

“Mm, what's your name, pretty lady?” 

A scoff quietly escapes you as the slur of his words make any attempt at flattery obsolete.

“What's it to you?” 

Brows furrow at the harsh response to his kind gesture, he retorts;

“Well I just bought you that drink didn't i? Don't I deserve a little somethin?” 

A little something what do you look like? A hooker? 

“You don't deserve a damn thing. I didn't ask for this cheap thing.” 

He leans in a bit closer to you, closing the gap of space between your body and his as you grow increasingly uncomfortable with his advances with no way out.

“Oh come on don't be like that, listen, how about we get a few more and you can join my buddies over there. We’ll have fun.” 

Slowly you move yourself away from his body inching closer to you,

“No, I think I'm good where I'm at.” 

He grabs your wrist as you try to leave, with the untamed grip of a man not wholly sober and increasingly offended; 

“Oh don't be like that, are you even here with everyone? You’re just asking for attention.” 

A new voice chimes in from behind the both of you. 

“Now, the lady said she don't want anythin to do with you. Aint no sense in tryna force her, especially if you want to keep that nose of yours unbroken. Ya understand me boy?” 

The stranger from earlier, carrying deep southern drawl and a sternness in his voice comes to you like a guardian angel. He looms over the short heighted man in comparison, with an air of dominance and intimidation that supersedes anything that that could have done in comparison. 

“You didn't tell me you were with someone. I.. I'm sorry sir.” 

His voice shrinks at the sight of conflict with him, he turns to you then to him for apology, before scampering off to his friends with a tail between his legs. 

The man turns to face you now, dwarfing you in his shadow as he looks at you. There's a kind smile in his eyes, with a soft smirk on his lips as he goes to take the place of the man before him. 

“I'm sorry that man was bothin ya darlin’. Aint no way to treat a lady like you.” 

your ears perk up at that final part-- a lady like you. You feel flush at his flattery, giving a moment to shift your body closer to his ever so slightly to lean into his words. 

“A lady like me hm? And what does that mean?” 

Once again he doesn't properly cower at the confrontation of very bold flirting -- you can tell this isn't his first time playing this kind of game. And you were more than glad to play along. 

“Well, just mean a lady pretty as you, that's all.” 

Coy smile coats his face as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Oh well, thank you sir. Can't say it's every day a handsome man like you comes to my rescue.” 

Sir. his eyes flick up from his drink to the sound of that, and you notice this time. 

“No bother, names Joel.” 

Joel. Where have I heard that name before? 

“Ahh, well, sir Joel, I'll be heading to the bathroom for a bit. Think you'll still be here when i'm back?” 

You hop out of your chair, brushing off and readjusting the dress you wore as you centered yourself on the floor once more. 

“Mm I'm sure I will sweetheart.” 

He smiles as his drink is raised to his lips once more from hovering fingers over it's top, he sends you off with a wink and the knowledge that as you walk away he gets a greater view of the body he could only see from across the bar. 

…

Knock knock 

“I'm in here.” 

In a single stall are you leaning over a metal sink to correct makeup and hair in the mirror of the bathroom. You didn't need to use the bathroom, just needed to fix your makeup if you thought you could have any more confidence with Joel. 

Knock knock knock 

“Dude- i'm fucking in here.” 

You go to open the door and chew out whoever was pounding on the door, like there weren't other stalls to use. Though as you crack open the side of it you see Joel standing before you, before quickly pushing his way inside it as well. Turning you around does he pin you against the wall adjacent to the door itself. 

“Listen here darlin’. I wont play coy, there aint nothin I want to do to you more right now then to have ya all to myself. I cant fuckin stand it.” 

His hand lays flat on your shoulder as it pushes you against the wall, the other hand making its way to cup your jaw. His calloused fingers stroke your cheek as you stand there speechless. 

“Use your words baby. Come on, I know you fuckin want it.” 

“Y-- yes sir. I…I wouldn't mind” 

You stammer out a weak consent that seems to be the only thing that can come to mind as you grow intoxicated by his scent, his aura. Whisky coats his breath as he looms over you, the smell of his cologne masking scents of sawdust and tobacco as you feel his heat on you with how close he stands to you. 

“Good.” 

His lips smash into yours, feeling his tongue immediately trying to invade every part of your mouth, taste every last drop of your spit as though he was addicted to it. His hands trail up and down your body as his fingers pay no regard to the loose fabric that made up your dress. Gripping your waist he let up from your kiss, turning you around to face the mirror that was just moments ago used as a means to fix your makeup, now you found yourself pushed down onto the cold metal of the sink that still held your eye makeup and brushes. His hands traced all up and down your back as though he was worshiping the body below him, standing right at your backside you could feel his bulge growing from the inside of his worn jeans. 

Fuck hes big. 

His body falls to cup yours, fully clothed does the request become but a low whisper deep in your ear as his hand trails up your neck to your hair, pulling it back as your back arches to compliment the placement of his bulge. 

“Good girl. Now don't you look so pretty?” 

He refers to the mirror in front of you, and as you gaze at yourself within it you see hairs falling in front of your face, as arms twice as large as yours grip onto your hair to force your face to look directly within the mirror. You look at him, watching as his face contorted into what looked like a proud lion with his fresh prey. His smirk was selfish, and the way he looked at your body made you feel naked. Undressing what was left of you with his eyes, he didn't leave any more room for imagination as he let up from you for a moment to unbuckle his belt. Watching as the jeans fell to the floor with a heavy clunk, and all that remained was his boxers that swiftly followed. You couldn't see his cock, but as he grazed it along your folds you could just feel how much there was. 

“Now ain't that a sight. All this ‘cause of me hm? Gotta say I'm honored.” 

He pushes your panties down, a trail of your own slick following suit that leaked down your thigh unabashedly. You feel a heavy hand pressed down onto your back. 

“Arch your back for me darlin’.” 

And as you do so, you feel him grab your ass, slapping it and pulling it apart to look at your heat before you could feel his tip directly at your entrance. He lets it linger for a moment, cupping himself to you slightly and brings your hair back to look at the mirror once more. 

“Look how pretty of a fuckin’ slut you are baby. Absolutely drenched for my cock, you better take it good alright? I'm not here to play nice with ya’.” 

You nod your head as much as you could in understanding before you felt him piercing you. It was so much, too much. You felt as though you were going to be split open entirely as the first pulse he did in you felt as though he’d never reach the base. As he grew to be halfway inside of you you felt full to the brim, biting your lip with closed eyes to try and take it all without a whine. 

You feel a jerk of your hair as he went deep into you. You felt his body flush against yours but with eyes closed he yanked your neck up to look at him. 

“Don't close your eyes, baby. I want you to look at me.” 

A steady pace was founded soon after, feeling him go in and out of you elicited timed whines and moans, your brain felt as though it was melting in a way, the only thing that your body could think of as every pounding force inside of you made your nerves shoot off and you felt it everywhere in your body. Down to your fingers was the sense of taking in every vein, every curve, every little inch of his cock as it used you like you were some toy. 

Your fingers fall to your own clit, desperate to cum on his cock already do you draw circles over your own throbbing parts, as your mind grows numb at the feeling of the two combined. Though Joel is quick to notice. 

“Do you want to fuckin’ cum for me darlin’? Come on now all ya gotta use is your words and I can do all that for you. You're mine right? My pretty little slut.” 

His free hand snakes over your thigh to find your fingers, pushing them aside as his calloused fingers match the same motion you had just done but with greater intensity. Your whole body is at his disposal, feeling nothing but the pleasure he's giving you, your hands grasp at nothing to try and stabilize yourself against his cock. Looking at the mirror he forces you to watch as he groans over you, watching the sweat drip off his hair down onto his chest as he grows less and less controlled in his movements. You watch as your own face pathetically contorts into inexplicable pleasure, you are addicted to him. The way his cock feels inside of you, his fingers on your clit. You feel your heat building up in your stomach quickly, a flame sweltering in your stomach that was going to peak at any moment. 

“God-- fuck Joel, i’m going to cum. Oh my god--” 

You feel yourself contract on top of his cock, your insides desperately wrapped around him as you finish. your legs shake but as he presses himself into you even more you cant move almost anywhere. 

“Fuck you feel so good, god-- so fuckin’ good i'm--” 

His fingers still trace a sensitive clit as your body moves involuntarily to the rhythm of his cock inside of you, your body completely overwhelmed as he finishes inside of you after only a few more strokes, you feel a heat fill deep inside of you. Keeping it in for a second does the excess of his finish seep out of the edges of you, trailing down your leg onto the floor. 

Jagged breath fills the air that was once filled with groans and whimpers, shallow breaths to try and come back to reality fill your lungs as you lay against the counter ever still. You listen as Joel adorns his jeans once more, looping the belt into propper hole before grabbing paper towels from the nearby dispenser. His hands travel down the side of your leg where you and him mixed together in remis of pleasure and slowly takes the dry towel to it, mopping up all that he left on you. 

“Here ya go darlin’. Now, turn ‘round for me.” 

Waiting as you turn slowly, your body just getting in tune with being able to move on it's own again you face him. A face covered in sweat, hair stuck to his face he still looked enchanting. He takes you in, a look of yearning and hunger still coated his eyes as he looked you up and down.

“This’ll only hurt for a second sweetheart.” 

His fingers move the straps of your dress to your shoulders, moving them down to expose your chest. Bending down does he place small kisses on your chest, but before you could question it you felt his teeth sink into your chest. Sucking with intent to leave a mark, shallow pants meet fingers through his hair as you whine softly. Soon his lips let up, and a wet mark along your chest remains. 

“Didn't want ya to forget me too quickly. Just say this is a little reminder of me.” 

Joel smiles at you, a wink following his brazen claim on your body well after tonight somehow made you more attracted to him. There was something so matter of fact, demanding about him. He just took whatever he wanted and it had just happened to be you. The perfect combination of southern charm and degradation was enough to fuel you for a lifetime off this very night. 

He opens the door for you as you exit, following you out swiftly after does the walk to the general bar feels like your own walk of shame in a way. But were you really ashamed? They all knew what had just transpired, but part of you was proud of it. Joel certainly was. 

“You got any ways of gettin’ home sweetheart?” 

His voice inquired from behind you, making you turn to face him once more as more proper light shone on him giving him even greater features to be enamored by. 

“Oh well, my place is around a 20 minutes walk from here, so that's how I got here.” 

His brows furrowed at that notion, though it's better than any alternative of driving here with the intent of getting drunk. 

“Seems like I'll be takin’ you home then. You want anything before take ya?” 

“What? No- you don't need to take me home. It's such an inconvenience and-” 

“Listen sweetheart. It wouldn't be right of me leavin’ you hear all by yourself after all we just did. It's only proper.” 

You acquiesce. He does make a good point, and as he opens the door for you once more he leads you to his old truck, the seats smell of wood and coffee and you survey the insides to see a small drawn picture of what seemed to be him and a small girl upon his dash. A medium of crayon depicted two simple figures holding hands under a sun. 

“I didn't know you were such an artist Joel” 

You nudge him, teasing him about the photo briefly. 

“Now, you know I didn't do all that. Was my girl Sarah, made it when she was about 5 I think. Shes my whole world that little girl.” 

His smile lit up at the mention of his daughter, one that left you a bit dumbfounded because you didn't expect him to be a proud father given his introduction but you had no doubt he was a good one nonetheless. 

The drive home was slow but soothing, low country music played on his CD player as he drove down the road to your apartment. And as you signified to him which one was your place he pulls off to the side and drops out of the truck before you. Opening the door for you does he lead you out and to your door, with a kind farewell that despite all his degradation can never override his innate hospitality. Bidding you farewell as he leaves back into his truck, there's no part of you that feels as though you’ll ever see him again. But for a hookup, it's the nicest way you’ve ever been treated after. By a longshot. You won't be quick to forget him, with or without his hickey. 

…

School bells ring in your ears as you stand atop a small ladder that gets you to the top of the ceiling to tack on the final decoration for your parent-teacher night. It’d been over a week since you’d met Joel, and as the Friday before a long weekend creeps up on you the last thing you need to do is go through a line of parents and hope none of them have bad things to say about you. You fancied yourself a very good 7th grade teacher, with some of the children within your grade holding bright futures ahead of them. Specifically Sarah, not only was she a rising athlete but she was incredibly academically gifted. The anticipation to meet her parents grew purely out of curiosity, on what kind of scholars they were to raise such a well behaved child. 

Parents began to pour in before too long, the clock ticking from 4 to 6, conversation over conversation about the behavior of students, curriculum taught, and teaching philosophies wore you out by the time there was a little less than 30 minutes left of the window to greet parents. 

A clock shining at 6:16 made you feel as though your day was done, no real stragglers came in at the last 15 minutes, and as you finished up with the ones who came in the last 30, you began to relax at your desk for a moment. 

Until, of course, you see the thick curly hair of a certain sarah enter your classroom. You felt rejoiced, noting that if you had to deal with anyone, it’d gladly be her and her parents. Though as you watched with a smile on her face as she walked in it was soon no longer matched by you once you saw who her father was. 

Alone in the classroom did you stand across from Joel, whose daughter he held softly by her shoulder. your heart sank. 

What are the fucking odds? 

His usual confident demeanor was completely wiped by what seemed to be genuine shock at the sight of you. 

“I'm sorry we’re so late miss, dad always works super late so I can never come as early as I want. This is my dad, Joel!” 

Thats where I knew his fucking name from. 

Sarah breaks the silence with apology on his behalf, followed by an introduction as you slowly lower yourself within your seat once more and usher them to sit across from you. 

“Oh- oh, there's no worries. There's still time before we technically finish, so I'm more than glad to see you Sarah.” 

Your conversational tone is light, you keep eyes on Sarah while trying to talk to her about school and life, hearing about her new position on the soccer team is the only thing keeping you sane as the same musk you tasted down your throat is sitting right across you once more. 

Sarah's eyes darted over to the entrance to the classroom, spotting what seems to be one of her friends who also arrived quite late. 

“Oh-- dad. Dad, I'm going to go say hi to my friend. Can I go? Please?” 

“No sarah, you’ve gotta stay right here.” 

A diversion of eye contact with you that put all eyes on a whining sarah led you to chime in at the sight of her dismay, 

“Oh it's alright, there's a few things i’d like to speak to you about anyways.” 

She darts away without a second thought, taking your word more to heart than her own fathers. 

So there you two are sat-- eyes locked in on one another as you watch Joel's demeanor falter. He’s barely the man you met at the bar, all semblance of confidence gone to be replaced with a much more sheepish embarrassment at the face of his daughter being directly connected to his hookups. 

“So, Mr. Miller then is it?” 

You take this as a means to taunt him. 

“Funny seeing you here isn't it? Your daughter is exceptional, I'll give you that. But doesn't every day something like this happens does it?” 

He clears his throat, arms crossing as he lies back slightly upon the chair. 

“Now, I mean no disrespect here but you can’t be tauntin’ me like this darlin’. Taking everythin in me to not pin you over that desk just like I did before.” 

Your cheeks grow red and flushed. He wasn't sheepish, he's holding back. If it wasn't for his daughter being right down the hall he’d probably already have you wrapped around his cock again. 

Silence consumes you two once more as you feel your words choke in the back of your throat, you don't have a proper response to something so brazen but his eyes read yours and he makes it clear you needn't say anything at all. 

“Listen sweetheart, if I spend another minute in here with you you’ll probably wanna shut that door and hope no one comes a knockin. So I'll save you the trouble. How’s about you give me your number, and I'll make sure to find time to see you again.” 

You scramble for pen and paper to give him what he wants, you now sheepishly handing him your number as you watch him rise from the seat and straighten himself. 

“Was meanin’ to do this last time. I ain't felt anything as good as you for as long as i can remember. Usually I wouldn't do this, bein’ sarah's teacher and all, but hope you can understand that I can’t resist another night with you.” 

He grabs the paper from trembling hands, feeling his calloused fingers graze yours once more, shooting a shock of nerves to heat up your lower stomach from a mere touch. 

“I’ll see ya around darlin’.” 

A wink and a smile are the last thing you see of him before he takes himself to your door, disappearing as you hear a group of young girls as he walks into the hallway all clamoring something about Sarah as he takes her home. 

You’re left sitting in an empty classroom once more, a clock shining at 6:28 as your cue to leave is imminent. But as you look around you, all you can see is Joel. Every place you look there you are pinned against it with a skirt ridden up and cock shoved inside of you. Even in the empty space in the middle of the classroom you see your knees bare against linoleum as his hands grip your hair and guide it up and down him. You yearned for him, you needed him.

A text chime snapped you out of your trance. 

“5pm, tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.” 

And it seems like he needed you too. 

“And wear what you wore today, I want to take it off of you myself.” 

#joel x reader #joel smut #joel miller x reader #joel fanfic #joel #joel tlou #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro x reader

[celtic-crossbow]

I Don’t Ask Much, I Just Want You

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Sexual Themes; Oral (m receiving)

Summary: You know just how to convince Daryl to socialize.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

It was late in the evening when you found yourself in a warm bath and pillowed against Daryl’s chest. You held his left hand above the water, toying with his long fingers. You would bend and straighten them before lacing your fingers through his. No rhyme or reason, just comforting. Twisting to look back at him, the archer had his eyes closed, damp hair sticking to his face and neck. His hair was so long now; nearly to his shoulders. You loved running your fingers through it, scratching his scalp until he was almost purring.

“Soooooo,” you began, returning your attentions to his fingers. Daryl made a noise behind you to indicate he was listening. “Rick wants us to go to the party in a few days. Just to boost morale around here. I told him we’d be there.” You winced when he groaned.

“Why’d ya do that?”

“I know, but he’s right. The people need something to lift their spirits. Everyone’s gonna be there.”

“All the more reason to not go.”

You could tell he wasn’t angry. Daryl was never one for socializing, preferring the quiet of your home to any outing you could think of that involved other people. You were usually alright with that; he had met you in the middle and would accompany you on walks and even hold your hand when you asked. He would even venture to Aaron’s sometimes to work on the bike without closing the garage door. He did a lot of things outside his comfort zone for you. You smiled and brought his hand to your mouth, pressing gentle kisses to each knuckle.

“I could possibly make it worth your while.”

“Ya got my attention.”

You smirked. Gotcha. Turning over, you pressed yourself against him and slid down a bit. “Want to see how long I can hold my breath?” The hunter arched a brow. With a wicked grin, you slipped below the water.

Daryl watched curiously until he felt the warmth of your mouth around him. One hand gripped the edge of the tub, while the other tangled in your hair. He let his head fall back and kept his grip light, not even guiding lest you need to come up for air. You had a way of leaving him wrecked and pliable, ready to give in to anything you asked.

Before you surfaced, the amount of time you spent working him into a frenzy beneath the water was impressive to say the least. You barely took in a lungful of air before his mouth crashed into yours, leaving you breathing harshly through your nose.

"So," you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair. You leaned your head back and to the side as his mouth found your neck, nipping and sucking the wet flesh. You worked an arm between your bodies, rising above him before sinking back down, your body accepting him into your warm, slick center. The string of curses that left his mouth was absolutely filthy. With a roll of your hips, the water splashed around you and Daryl fell back heavily with a hiss. "About that party?"

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon walking dead #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl imagines #the walking dead daryl dixon #Spotify

[simonsdoll]

kind of an angsty/flufffy ask but the 141 + könig + graves reaction to making reader cry at work (like they got mad at you and snapped and then you start tearing up and sobbing)

You can make reader civilian or military up to you 💖

MW2 men’s reaction to

making reader cry

Includes: Price,Ghost,Soap,Gaz,Konig and Graves

A/n: Thanks for the request! I kinda cried making these btw. Hope you like!

PRICE

- He irritatedly yells at you and curses sick words at you making the room go silent as he takes off his hat and throws it on the ground. He impulsively kicks a chair towards your direction. With the swift motion of his hands going up you get startled and start to feel your eyes collect with tears in shock. He’s never done that before and his mean words has you frozen and breathing shallow

- As he snaps out of his maddening state, he sees tears fall down your face as he notices the closed fists to your chest awaiting more yells from him. Your erratic breathing giving you goosebumps

- He acts quickly and he hugs you,apologizing over and over again. Starts reflecting on his actions as he soothes your crying. Making sure he does better next time things get stressful and to not repeat himself again

GHOST

- He slams you onto a wall and aggressively tells you how irritating you are and how he wishes he doesn’t see you after every mission. Said it in a heartless and cold manner as if he didn’t regret a word. He walks backwards with a fist to his mouth to keep him from saying more awful things to you

- He stares at you silently realizing what he just said to you. He sees you hold the wall behind you in fear and anger. Hot tears running down your face as you get an unpleasant feeling in your stomach. You run to your barrack room and quickly shut the door

- When you let him in to talk,he stands there awkwardly before he starts to quietly apologize to you for his hurtful words. Telling you he didn’t mean anything and that you mean so much to him even the rest of 141 but that he doesn’t show it. He brings you in for a side hug while he carcasses your shoulders making sure your tears stop falling. He reminds himself that people have feelings and he should be more considerate with his choice of words

SOAP

- He shouts at you as he arrogantly degrades you for everything you do and how much of a bother you are every time you come near him. In a realization, he covers his mouth with one hand and runs his fingers through his hair with the other

- You shake your head side to side and your lips began to tremble trying to push back the heavy tears in your eyes. As soon as he loses his temper, he embraces you in a tight hug and starts apologizing profusely. Taking back everything he said telling you it’s not true. His voice starts to shake in fear he’s ruined the bond between you both

- He wipes the tears from your face one by one whispering that he’s so so sorry and asking himself ; what type of person is he, yelling at someone like that? Reassuring you that your never a bother and all those hurtful things he said were just because he was irritated. Starts promising himself he’ll work better on managing his feelings instead of taking them out of people

GAZ

- He yells at you as he throws an object at you in hopes you leave him alone. Telling you to fuck off and sarcastically tells you he actually cares when you tried venting to him about your problems. He let you know how bitchy you are when he’s around and hopes you remain silent forever

- His hands shake as he throws his hands above his head in shock. Doesn’t know what came over him and why he dared to say that to you. He looks at your change in breathing and at a loss for words when you begin to cry holding any surface for balance

- He quickly holds your hands and guides you to sit down. Starts repeating to you that it’s his fault and he apologizes over and over again between sentences. Wipes your tears and he comforts you by whispering sweet words into your ear. Telling you he doesn’t mean any word he said telling you it’s the exact opposite. Beats himself up to stop acting on his impulsive behavior especially if it affects others

KONIG

- Shoves you to the ground accidentally not keeping in mind how strong he is. Calls you so overbearing and hates how affectionate you are. Telling you how he sometimes wishes to rip you off him at times

- You keep yourself propped up on one elbow while the other flies to your chest. A pain begins to form in your chest as your heavy tears result in your inability to speak. He tried walking past you quickly stepping over you, but he snaps out of his troubled thoughts, turning around as he sees you crying on the floor. He walks quickly to you and picks you up taking you to the bedroom and sits you down at the edge of the bed

- He falls to his knees and looks up at you with tearful eyes. He’s crying and regretting ever laying his hands on you in such a cruel way. He hugs your waist murmuring countless apologies in German. He thinks you hate him and he starts to tell you the best he can through sniffles that he didn’t mean anything and how he’s never going to treat you like that ever again. He’s more careful of his actions and tries his best to de-escalate things when he gets mad

GRAVES

- He yells at you with an enraged tone of voice.He starts punching the wall leaving dents as he vents about all the problems he has and how your just one of many more he has to deal with that stress and irk him. How you provoke the worst out of him and when missions get tough he doesn’t bother looking out for you

- With every punch to the wall,the room echoes and shortly after it’s filled with your choked sobbing. You back away slowly from him trying to create some space between you both. He rubs his knuckles looking down at the floor as his breathing stops. He looks back up to you watching hot tears rush and fall down your face. He runs fingers through his hair trying to figure out why he confessed such terrible things he didn’t mean

- He walks slowly up to you apologizing over and over again trying not to startle you anymore. He kneels down on one knee as he starts degrading himself for acting such a cruel way towards you. Looks up to you and says sorry again but with watery eyes making sure you know he means it. He promises himself to not show that ugly side of him anymore in hopes of losing you

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Check Masterlist for more

#ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #cod mw2 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost modern warfare #call of duty #tf141 #tf 141 #task force 141 #captain john price #captain price #konig call of duty #konig #konig mw2 #konig cod #cod captain price #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mctavish #phillip graves #graves mw2 #cod philip graves #graves cod #graves mwii #call of duty gaz #cod

[your-averagewriter]

"I would treat you better than him."

Summary: Aonung doesn't treat (y/n) well and Neteyam won't stand for it any longer. (Neteyam x reader with slight Aonung x reader).

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: bullying, shouting, manipulation, fighting, kissing, making out?

-

"I'm sorry, Aonung." I try, timidly. 

"Sorry isn't good enough (y/n)!" He shouts at me and I look around checking if there are people nearby. If people see him shouting at me then he'll get even angrier with me but I don't see anyone as we're tucked away in a secluded part of the beach, concealed by rocks.

"I'm sorry." I say again, tears brimming my eyes. "I won't do it again." I say pulling my arms close to my chest in case I have to defend myself. I've never had to before but he's unpredictable in this state.

He takes a couple of breaths with his hand on his forehead. 

"Just go," He says, relenting. "I'll see you later." He says as a question but I know it's not really voluntary so I just nod hoping to get it over with.

I scurry away and get ready to meet up with the Sully's, we're going to the Tree of Souls. One of the most beautiful places on Pandora, and even to this day I live in awe of it. Everyone's coming except for Kiri who said this morning that she was feeling a bit ill and was going to stay back today. That includes Aonung and his friend or maybe multiple, I don't remember.

Once I'm done and mentally ready after the jarring event earlier I head out to meet with Lo'ak and Neteyam.

I walk up to them, greeting them with a smile and a wave.

"Hey, guys." I say as they saddle up their ilus.

"Hey, (y/n)." Lo'ak replies.

"Hey." Neteyam says and he sounds a bit off but I decide not to question it, especially in front of a group of people.

Joining them, I saddle up my ilu and we await the others to turn up. They do quite quickly and as soon as Aonung turns up he wraps his arm around me and places a kiss on my head.

There seem to be two sides to Aonung, the nice side and then the not-so-nice side. 

When Aonung places a kiss on my head I don't miss how Neteyam's jaw clenches and his eyes seem to turn cold but it's too late to question it.

We start swimming and I can't help but smile seeing all of the beautiful creatures and nature surrounding us. 

Soon we get near the Tree of Souls. The entrance is surrounded by bizarrely shaped rocks forming arcs which can only be explained as awe-inspiring.

We bring the ilu above water and slowly drift towards it making sure that the newcomers get the full first-time experience. 

I smile, watching their faces gazing at the beautiful scenery, it is truly incredible.

Eventually, once we're close enough, Tsireya says for everyone to dismount so that the Sully's can connect to the Tree of Souls for the first time.

We slide off of the ilus and dive into the water, swimming towards the Tree of Souls. Aonung keeps me by him, swimming next to me but I can't help but feel Neteyam's eyes on me. I glance over at him and kind of catch him looking at me but he doesn't look away, he's seemingly glaring at Aonung?

They connect their queues to the trees and the experience seems to be overwhelmingly positive and wholesome which is good, there are occasionally some negative responses from those who have lost loved ones and such.

I swim over to the Neteyam and Lo'ak wanting to see how it went. Aonung tried to swim after me but I calmly place a hand on his chest and a kiss on his cheek, signaling for him to stay with a soft smile before I swim over.

I tap Neteyam on the shoulder as I reach the surface. Both the boys turn around.

"How was it?" I ask them with a smile.

"So cool!" Lo'ak says still excited only making me smile more.

"Neteyam?" I ask and he looks like I've just pulled him from a day dream or something.

"What?" He asks a little shaken.

"I asked how it was? The Tree of Souls?"

"Oh, yeah it was cool." He says with a forced smile and I decide to move on.

After a little while we all head back, not wanting to be back later than told. Once we get back we all split up again and head to our respective pods.

Bouncing along the Marui I make my way towards my pod. My pod is one of the furthest from the centre, however it is closest to the sea which is a positive.

"(y/n)." I hear a quiet voice say my name from around the corner. I turn to look and walk around to be met with two glowing yellow eyes in the dark. I squint and see that's it's Neteyam. Walking towards him, I feel confusion overwhelm me, why is he here? Did he need something? Did I forget something?

"Neteyam?" I ask the figure mostly covered by shadow. "What are you doing?" I ask, curiously.

"I need to talk to you." He says, moving to stand in the light. I stay quiet urging him to continue. "Can we go somewhere quieter?" He says looking around at the families eating their meals. I nod and follow him to the beach, a quiet part, though not the same as where Aonung takes me.

"So?" I ask, trying to not sound impatient but I properly come off like that. "Sorry." I say quietly and he looks confused. "I didn't mean to sound impatient," I say quietly even though no one could hear us even if we were shouting. I know he's not like Aonung, he won't shout at me but I still have that little voice in the back of my mind telling me he will.

"(y/n)," He says and my ears perk up.

"Yeah?" I reply.

"I'm not going to shout at you…" He says, the corners of his lips downturned.

"I know." I say and try a smile.

"He's not good for you." He says after a pause, out of the blue.

"Who?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Aonung, he's not good for you." He repeats. "I've seen him shouting at you. He's not a good person and he doesn't treat you well." He says and I can sense him becoming angry.

"You just don't know him." I dismiss.

"I don't need to know him to know that he doesn't treat you right."

"He treats me how I deserve, sometimes I just- I do things that annoy him or things I shouldn't. It's my fault when he shouts at me."

"Did he tell you that?" He asks, mixture of surprise, sadness and anger in his voice.

"It doesn't matter whether he told me that-" 

"Of course it does! He's manipulated you into thinking that it's your fault." He shouts and it's the first time I've ever heard him shout. He takes a deep breath and places both his hands on my shoulders. "(y/n), he doesn't treat you well." He says slowly and again I feel myself tearing up.

"Well what am I meant to do?" I ask getting tearful. "Break up with him?" I ask.

"Yes!" He says like it's obvious.

"No one else would want me! No one else would have me!" I say, now in tears.

"Did he tell you that?" He asks, ears pricking up in anger.

"Yes, he made it very clear," I say in a spiteful tone. "No one would treat me any better!" I shout and it goes silent. After a few seconds, Neteyam speaks again.

"I would." He says and stares right into my eyes sending a shock down my spine.

"W-what?" I stutter out.

"I would treat you better than him." He repeats.

"Why?" I ask, my tears not stopping but slowing.

"Because you're beautiful, intelligent and you can do no wrong." He says with his full chest. "He shouldn't treat you like that and I refuse to watch him do so any longer. Now, you don't have to go with me, you don't even have to entertain the idea, but I refuse to watch him treat you like shit any longer."

I stand frozen for a moment, replaying the conversation in my head again and again.

"I care about you, Neteyam," I say quietly and I watch as his ears and tail droop, anticipating a letdown. "That's why I'm about to do this," I say taking a quick breath before placing a soft kiss against his lips. I pull back before he reciprocates. "I think you're beautiful as well," I say quietly, impressed with my sudden burst of confidence.

His yellow eyes stare into my blue ones and soon his lips are back on mine. His hands slowly make their way to my face, he cradles it like I'm a delicate flower which is a refreshing feeling.

His lips work slowly against mine as my hands move to his nape, I run them through his braided hair relishing the feeling of our bodies close to each other. The waves lap against the beach in the background as Neteyam's freckles glow, piercing through the darkness.

I pull back away from him and he looks into my eyes slightly confused. I slowly pull his hands down from my face and place them around my neck as I lean in towards his face. I kiss each of his freckles, softly and I try to get them all as he starts chuckling.

"What are you doing?" He asks. "Are you trying to kiss all of my face?" He asks chuckling, the kisses tickling.

"I'm kissing your freckles. They're pretty." I say with a smile which stops him from chuckling. He just looks into my eyes.

"How did Aonung get someone as sweet as you?" He questions to no one in particular, pressing a kiss to one of my wrists as I hold his face in place.

-

AN: I'm sorry that Aonung isn't that accurate to his character, I just needed someone relevant to the plot to play the bad boyfriend character.

I hope you enjoyed reading!

Taglist:

@neptunes-curse

@7kavva

@coconut-dreamz

@melatonindaydreamz

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x yn #neteyam x y/n #avatar x you #avatar x yn #avatar x y/n #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar the way of water x you #avatar the way of water x yn #avatar the way of water x y/n #fanfic #fanfiction #neteyam fanfic #neteyam fanfiction #avatar neteyam #avatar the way of water fanfic #avatar the way of water fanfiction #avatar fanfic #avatar fanfiction #fluff #x reader #x you #x yn #xy/n

[hazelnelliesgf]

Reflections

17 yr old!Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Ellie decide to camp out by a lake during the summer. Seems like Ellie has a fun filled night for you both.

Warnings: none yet.

Proof-read!!

Words: 0.8k

The sun is low in the sky as you and Ellie walk down a small wooded path, followed by Joel. Ellie is talking about how people used to get to space before the outbreak and Joel is fiddling with a map, trying to help you both find your way to the lake. After a while, you both spot the lake from afar.

"Race you!" Ellie screams as she runs past you, laughing and giggling. You look back at Joel, who shrugs his shoulders and chuckles at her. By the time you start running, Ellie is almost at the lake's edge.

"Wait up!" You yell, almost stumbling as you stand next to her. She's sat down, her feet dangling off the cliff. The lake resides below, the blue water making small waves. The wind is mild but noticeable, making it perfect weather. Joel finally meets both of you there and sets the backpacks down, catching his breath. Ellie looks back and then looks up at you. She smiles before getting up and grabbing her backpack.

"This damn tent won't do I want it to!" Ellie grunts, flapping her tent around in anger. You giggle at her, finding her struggles funny. You walk up to her and take the tent from her hands, showing her how she could fix it. You then pop the tent up and it stays. Ellie looks at you in embarrassment.

"Next time, don't get so worked up. Yeah?" You say, patting her on the back lightly. She smiles and nods, putting her hands on her hips. You finish your own tent as Ellie starts creating a place for your fire. She collects firewood and places it in the middle of your two tents, racing to find more after she slams them to the ground. The sun then starts setting, the light from it painting the lake a beautiful orange and red. You and her sit at the cliff's edge, swinging your legs as you stare at the trees infront of you.

"It's so pretty tonight, hm?" Ellie says as you both stand up. You hum in response as she walks behind you. Suddenly, you feel her push your back and you fall into the water with a "SPLASH!". You rise to the water's surface to see Ellie laughing her ass off at you. You frown sarcastically at her before you see Joel sneaking up behind her. Joel then pushes her and she yells as she falls down the cliff. She hits the water and swims back up to see your face. You're uncontrollably laughing at her, trying to stay afloat. She stares at you whilst you're laughing and she swears there is an invisible halo above your head. Her brain can only point out the beautiful things about you right now, like the way the sun shined and glistened on your damp skin or the way your smile made herself grin. She swims closer and closer to you, a mischievous smirk is creeping across her face. Suddenly she's on your back, splashing around and laughing. You both splash and swim around in the lake for a while until the sun fully sets and Joel has cooked up dinner for you both on the campfire.

"Last one there is a rotten egg!" You squeal as you quickly swim to the lake's shore and start running bare foot back to the tents. You can hear Ellie groan and chuckle before splashing around and running behind you. She finally catches up and sits beside you, the side of her body pressed up against yours. She sticks her hands out infront of the fire like a child, smiling as she does so.

Sometime later, whilst Joel is snoring in his tent, Ellie drags you from your sleeping bag and out into the cold, dark night.

"What?" You ask, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes.

"Cmon, I have something to show you."

She holds onto your hand tightly, winding in and out of the tall trees. She stops in the middle to two trees and sits down. She pats the space next to her, beckoning for you to sit. You sit down reluctantly and stare forward, waiting for her to say something.

"Do you like the stars?" She asks, her voice sounding soft and gentle.

"I love them. Why?"

She leans back and you do too, revealing a sky full of stars. You gasp in awe at the sight you're seeing, your eyes widening at the glinting sky. You turn to Ellie with a massive smile on your face, laughing in disbelief.

"How did you know about this place?" You ask, still in utter shock at the stunning sky.

"Joel took me here once. He said its where him and Tess used to stay when the infected got too much in Boston. So they would just... run away." She looks at you and back at the sky. You can tell her tone has shifted to a sadder one, and you cuddle into her side. She wraps an arm around you in comfort, and continues staring up.

"I love you Ellie." You say, looking up at her from where you're nestled into her side. She looks down and brushes the hair out your face before kissing your forehead.

"I love you too."

©️ copyright to @hazelnelliesgf 2023

#ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams #ellie x reader #the last of us part ii #ellie the last of us #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #the last of us 2 #ellie williams fanfic

[l-tothe-og]

Rhaenyra's coronation feast but lucemond has their rhaewin moment when some green supporter makes a bastard joke towards jace on the dance floor and baela jumps them bcs that's treason and daemon didn't raise no bitch

Rhaenyra holds her head high. War was evaded, even when it seemed imminent a few years back. Her coronation is a lavish, grand affair that sees the greens sitting at the same table as the blacks, none too fond, none too contemptuous.

In the years since the supper in which Aemond had raised a toast to her sons, her heir and the future lord of Driftmark, and called them Strong, her half-brother and son had become increasingly close.

They'd stayed in King's Landing that night, and for many moons more. The Red Keep became home once again. And as it had, Rhaenyra noticed her second son becoming more like her every day. He was witty, rebellious, and woefully in love with his uncle.

She's sitting at the head table, looking out over a sea of people, catching glimpses of her sons Jace and Luke periodically as they spin and dance with ladies of the realm when she first notices Aemond on the side of the dancefloor. He's watching someone in the crowd, she can tell by the way his eye stares intently at something she can't quite pick out.

"Lucerys." Her King Consort says to her. She looks at Daemon, and then to Aemond, and sighs. "He can't take his eye off of him." He adds.

"I can see that. Everyone can see that."

She opens her mouth to speak again when Jace's voice rises above the chatter in the great hall.

"Say it again! I dare you to say it again." She stands from her seat, hoping to get a better look at what's going on. The hall goes silent, and the response to her son is heard by everyone.

"It was a jest. One would think you were Strong enough to take it in stride."

Jace, her hotheaded son, looks up to her. She begs him with her eyes not to do anythign rash. She is queen now, they can deal with him otherwise. Daemon apparently, does not tell his daughter the same calming direction. Baela, without warning, winds up and punches the man with all the jokes.

Commotion breaks out. Rhaenyra loses everyone in the crowd. She moves from her chair, intent on finding her children and getting them out, but Daemon stops her. Rhaena surfaces from the fight, holding Baela back with all her might. Two guards get to Jace but the fight continues on without him, many others have joined in. Luke. Her sweet boy is lost.

"Luke! Where is Luke?"

She looks for his hair, those brown curls too damn plain to pick out.

Daemon grabs her hand, she looks to him briefly, but it's enough time to see him nod toward Aemond.

In an instant, her half-brother is in the thick of the crowd. She prays for her son, and is answered quickly because of the eye that watches over him. Luke, caught up in the middle of the fight, is pulled out swiftly by Aemond.

He fights it with all his might, but her second son is hoisted over Aemond's shoulder and carried to safety. He pounds Aemond's back all the way back to the head table, spitting blood from a spit lip as he yells curses at him.

She begins to make her way over to them once Aemond puts Luke down. Only, she stops when Aemond wipes the cuff of his sleeve across Luke's mouth, getting rid of the blood in tender strokes.

Once Aemond's wiped his lip clean, Luke leans forward and touches their foreheads together. He whispers something Rhaenyra makes out to be, "Kirimvose, qybor."

Aemond reponds not in words, but in tipping his head up, and kissing Luke. Blood smears to the corners of both of their lips.

She looks away, and hopes the commotion of the fight is enough to distract everyone from the moment at play between her half brother and son.

She walks back to Daemon, who is holding their youngest child in his arms.

"Do they remind you of anyone, my queen?"

She does not answer, and chooses instead to remember her first husband, her lost lover, and the younger man her husband used to be. She looks back once more at Aemond and Luke, no longer kissing, but stained all the same.

#lucemond #a bit of daemyra as well #bc i love them #and needed to write rhaenyra having a vizzy t moment #lilsfic

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 24

I'm wrapping up one story arch with this chapter, time to move on and move even deeper in to the TLoU world together with Frankie and the rest of the boys.

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings have their own post, please heed them if needed.

Series Master List

For a few minutes you all watch the flames take hold, but then Benny turns, his eyes are red from tears and smoke, but the grief has been pushed down. Instead his eyes are hard, his jaw set. He steps back towards the three of you, huddled together, holding each other up and you feel a shiver go down your back. You’ve never seen Benny like this, the rage simmering, barely contained just under the surface, is frightening, but Frankie and Pope seem to know what’s coming.

“I need to kill Myers, will you help me?”

It’s a question that doesn’t even need an answer, ‘Will you help me?’  When Benny walks towards the crowd outside the incinerator area you’re all behind him. The crowd is uneasy, the soldiers too, their guns still aimed slightly above the heads of the people. There seems to be even more people now than when you arrived, shifting around the edges of the street, some teens hanging on to lamp posts to see over the heads of the crowd. Frankie grips your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, as if he’s preparing to pull you to safety at a moment's notice. 

“Is it true they raped her?” someone calls from the crowd and Benny looks towards the voice. 

“Yes!” he calls back, his voice clipped and hard. “They took her for trying to protect a boy, they beat her, broke her bones, and raped her before throwing her dead in the back of a truck. Myers and his men.” The last word he spits out and the crowd hisses, their anger aimed at the soldiers in FEDRA uniforms. They are quickly becoming symbols of all the injustices FEDRA have dealt out to the people of this QZ. 

“Punish them!” someone roars from the back of the crowd and the shout is echoed across the street as more voices start shouting for revenge. The soldiers nervously adjust their grip on their rifles, glancing at their commanding officer in the middle. He aims his gun at the first line of people. 

“Go home!” he calls, “go home, FEDRA will make sure the woman’s death is investigated.” 

The crowd jeers at that, some booing loudly. 

“There’s no justice from FEDRA!” a woman calls from the crowd and many voices go up in agreement, the crowd is getting angry, more people are shouting, there’s a movement in the mass of people, surging back and forth. One of the soldiers lays down his gun, crouching to place it on the street and stepping to the side, joining the crowd as he tugs off his uniform jacket. He’s met with cheers and slaps on the back as he disappears into the crowd, his C.O. roaring at him to fall back in line. Frankie is tugging on your wrist, pulling you to the side of the street, still in front of the crowd but away from the soldiers. Pope taps Benny on the arm and motions him to follow. He glances over at Frankie and you and turns back to the crowd. 

“We will make sure there’s justice,” he calls, but even his booming military voice has trouble being heard over the din of the crowd. “Cox is the one responsible! Not these soldiers!” 

But the crowd either doesn’t hear him, or don’t want to. Surging forward, maybe pushed by those behind, the first lines rush towards the commanding officer and the men still standing next to him. Pope grabs Benny’s arm and pulls him to the side, just as the rifles fire. You feel Frankie’s hand around your wrist like a vice, pulling you along the edge of the crowd, pressed up against the side of the buildings until you reach an alley. Behind you, you can hear the screams and angry shouts of the crowd as the gunfire echoes across the street. Frankie pulls you further in, away from the crowd and you hear heavy footfalls behind you, Pope and Benny are right on your heels. 

“We need to get back to the apartment,” Pope calls, “We need to get our gear together, things are blowing up.” 

“Follow me,” Benny says, catching up to Frankie and you, “there’s a shortcut through the old city hall up ahead.” 

Benny leads you through the city, it’s eerily empty, the only people you see are moving towards the area you just left. You spot a few FEDRA soldiers running towards their HQ, walkie-talkies crackling with information about what’s happening, as you duck out of their way, instinctively avoiding to be seen. 

It doesn’t take your small group to get back to the apartments, “Meet me in my place in twenty minutes,” Pope orders, “grab supplies as if you were leaving the QZ, just in case, we might not be able to return here afterwards.” Frankie and Benny nod, Benny taking the stairs, three at a time, up to his place, while Frankie unlocks your apartment door. 

“Grab the backpacks,” he says, hurrying into the kitchen to open up the cupboard that holds all the rations he brings when he goes outside the wall, as well as your emergency rations, dried meat and fruit, freeze dried camping meals, anything lightweight and easy to carry. The backpacks are already partially packed, a habit Frankie had put you in, not trusting this new world enough to not expect that a quick get away might be needed. And he was right, because now you hastily stuffed an extra layer of clothes, ammo and food in before pulling both yours and Frankie’s handguns from their hiding place. With a twinge, you grabbed the two photo frames Hannah had given you, slipping the photos out, one of you and Frankie, and one of Frankie, Lucía and you. 

Less than twenty minutes later you both walk into Pope’s apartment, Benny is already there. 

“Ok, good,” Pope says as he sees you close the front door, “we need to make a plan, and quick.” 

“The plan is to get to Myers, and fucking kill him,” Benny growls. He’s changed out of his FEDRA uniform and is in civilian clothes like the rest of you. As he speaks he puts his gun at the small of his back, sticking into his pants. A rifle hangs over his shoulder, Pope has one and he hands another one to Frankie. You watch as they all seem to fall into well rehearsed movements, each man checking their guns and the ammo, making sure everything is in place. 

“As satisfying as killing Myers sounds, Ben, we need a plan,” Pope replies, “If that crowd moves towards HQ, which I think they’re probably already doing, we can’t just walk in there, it’ll be on high alert.”

“Yeah ok, but the crowd is going to cause a distraction for them, we should use that to our advantage.” Benny says, he’s put his backpack and rifle by the door and now he’s pacing while the rest of you stand in the living room. “The main gate isn’t the only way in, there’s a way through the sewers, it was cleared just a few weeks ago. We go in there, find Myers, and Cox too, preferably, and end this whole thing in one go.” 

“That sounds like an idea, we come from behind and take them out one by one and they won’t see it coming,” Pope nods and Frankie rubs his hand over his beard. 

“How do we get out of HQ? If we’re spotted we’ll have every FEDRA soldier in the compound on our tails.” 

“There won’t be many, as long as the crowd is at the main gate, they’ll be distracted. And for the rest, we just make sure we’re not spotted,” Benny shrugs as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to sneak in the backway and take out two high ranking FEDRA officers. 

“Let’s start by going down there and seeing what the situation’s like,” Pope says, picking up his backpack and shouldering it and you bend to do the same. Frankie puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you. 

“You stay here, cariño, we’ll come back here when it’s done.” 

You open you mouth to snap back at him, he’s fucking crazy if he thinks you’re staying here alone when they go off on their mission, but Pope beats you to it. 

“That’s not a good idea, Frankie. FEDRA knows she’s with you, this is the first place they’ll come looking for any of us.”

“Can you go and stay with someone until we’re back?” Frankie’s looking at you again and you shake your head. 

“Frankie, I’m not staying behind, I’m coming with you,” you say, locking eyes with him, “There is no fucking way I’m just gonna sit and wait for you three to maybe come back.” There’s a hard edge to your voice and Frankie looks anxious, you can see his eyebrows knitting together as he sees the determination in your face. “And if things go bad and you have to run, what are you gonna do, detour to come pick me up first?” Your eyebrows shoot up, challenging him and Frankie looks unhappy, reaching up to take your hand and say something but Benny cuts him off. 

“I’ve been training her for five years, she can handle herself.” 

“She’s not a soldier, Benny,” Frankie grimaces over his shoulder, he’s still looking at you, pleading silently with you. 

“No, she’s not, but I’ve taught her how to fight, and you’ve made sure she can handle a gun. Christ, Fish,” Benny rolls his eyes, “I’m not saying put her front and center, but at least she’ll be useful and she’ll be safer with you than alone if FEDRA comes looking for us.”

Frankie’s jaw moves, he’s gritting his teeth while you stare at him, he knows that face, that expression, he’s not going to be able to convince you to stay. And a part of him knows Benny is right, you’re safer with them than on your own right now, it makes sense for you to come, much as he hates the idea. 

“Ok,” he says finally, “but you have to stay behind me all the time and do exactly as I say, cariño,” his voice is firm but you can see the worry bubbling behind his eyes, his hand squeezing your fingers tight. You squeeze back, reassuring him. 

“Yes, Frankie, I promise, I’ll stay right behind you.” 

He nods, “Alright, let's go then before I change my mind.”

It doesn’t take long for the four of you to get to FEDRA HQ, the warehouse area. The streets are still empty and as you get closer you can hear a large crowd shouting and yelling, things are definitely kicking off in the QZ. As you clear the last alley leading up to the warehouses you walk into the crowd, Benny leading the way, Frankie behind him followed by you, and Pope, at Frankie’s request, at the rear, covering your back. As you get closer to the main gate the voices around you get more agitated, through the crowd you can see soldiers firing warning shots into the air and people around you are armed with baseball bats, paving stones and in some cases, real guns. 

“We need to get to the side of this,” Benny calls back towards the three of you, dodging around a group of young men, all brandishing baseball bats at the soldiers on the other side of the chain link fence. The gate has been closed but the fence isn’t that strong, and it’s only a fence, it can easily be climbed, the soldiers look nervous. 

You get to the other side, a little bit away from the main gate, and Benny shimmies up a lamp post to get an overview of what’s going on. Just as he drops down again you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, man!” Frankie exclaims, greeting the old man who’s pushed himself through the crowd towards your small group. It’s Herb, the veteran and counselor, who’d helped Frankie with his PTSD throughout the years. They still saw each other a couple of times a month, but nowadays it was more about just hanging out, Herb often came over to your apartment for dinner too. He’d been a soldier with FEDRA for a few years, but left about a year ago, disillusioned with the organization. 

“Benny, I heard about Hannah, I’m terribly sorry,” Herb claps him on the shoulder and Benny nods, his jaw tightening. 

“Thanks, Herb, ‘preciate it.”

“I’m guessing you boys aren’t here to just shout at FEDRA?” Herb says, glancing at the rifles hanging over each man's shoulder. 

“Do me a favor, Herb,” Benny says, looking over at the main gate, “can you make sure the crowd keeps the attention of the soldiers at the main gate?” 

Herb gives Benny a long look, his mouth twitching with a small smile, “Sure, I’ll make sure they’re busy.” He tilts his head towards the gate, “Many of the FEDRA soldiers have switched sides, joined the crowd, and Cox and his men have retreated to the main building, they looked scared, they’re losing support quickly.”

“Thanks, man, we owe you one,” Benny nods and looks over at the rest of you, “Let’s get moving, get this over with.” 

“Frankie,” Herb says, putting his hand on the younger man's shoulder, “I know you’ve got this, ok?” Reading between the lines you know Herb doesn’t mean the actual mission, but rather the potential of Frankie’s PTSD flaring up if things get messy. 

“Thanks, Herb, I’ll see you later, stay safe, man.” Frankie nods to Herb and takes your hand as you follow Ben, Pope clapping Herb on the back before falling in line behind you again. 

Ben leads the three of you out of the crowd, through an alley and a block north of the HQ. It’s a neighborhood that was damaged more by the initial bombings and the buildings and streets are broken up. Most of the materials for putting up the big QZ wall was taken from this area, leaving the area empty of inhabitants and hard to navigate. But Benny takes you through the broken structures and down into a bomb crater that has a shallow pool of water at the bottom. Sloshing through it he ducks under a tangle of low hanging broken pipes and into a well hidden opening. 

“Fuck, this place still reeks,” Pope coughs from behind you as the distinct smell of sewer hits your nose. You pull up the front of your sweater to cover your nose, breathing through your mouth as you all pull out and switch on your flash lights. 

“What did they clear this place from, Ben?” Frankie asks, his mouth and nose covered by his hoodie. 

“Rats, a few infected and a lot of rubble.” Benny replies, shining the light further into the tunnel, glancing back to check everyone is ready to go. 

“I really hope you’re sure they got all the infected,” Frankie says. You hope so too, you haven’t had to deal with an infected since your dramatic entrance to the QZ five years ago and you don’t like the idea of having to face one in this dark tunnel. 

“We go quietly, cover our bases,” Ben says, moving forward, “follow my lead.” 

“Since when did Benjamin Miller become our C.O?” you hear Pope chuckle behind you and you can’t help the nervous snort that escapes you, earning you and Pope a frown from Frankie. 

The tunnel isn’t completely pitch black at first, thankfully, there are holes in the roof from the bombs where daylight filters through. But as you go further in, under the buildings bordering the warehouse area and FEDRA HQ, daylight disappears and all you can see is the patch of whatever ground or wall your flashlights can illuminate. Smaller sewage tunnels break off from the main ones, most of them look blocked and too small for a human. The larger ones have been sealed shut by FEDRA, you don’t want to consider the possibility of what’s inside them, the tunnels are not quiet, you can hear scratching and groans, either from rats and the buildings settling, or from something else, it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Reaching out you take hold of Frankie’s hand, squeezing it tight and he pulls you closer. 

“I’ve got you, cariño, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he mumbles, low enough for Pope and Benny to not hear. You know he can’t promise you that, but it still makes you feel a bit better as you move further in through the darkness, your hand safely tucked in his. . 

It feels like you’ve walked through the darkness for an hour but in reality, it’s only been about ten minutes when Benny finally stops. The tunnel ahead is blocked off, sealed shut, and on the wall there’s a ladder leading up to a round manhole cover. Ben climbs to the top and pulls out his gun, the heavy lid moves easily as he pushes it upwards with one hand, carefully peering out over the edge. When he’s certain the area is clear he gently pushes the cover to the side and silently sets it down. Frankie follows after him, then you and Pope last. You’ve emerged in a basement area, dimly lit by fluorescent lights on the ceiling and what looks like old marketing material for a printing shop stored along the walls. Benny signals down the hallway, you can see a staircase at the end of it and you all walk quietly towards it. 

Making your way up through the building the three men fall into their practiced rhythm of clearing the rooms and hallways you pass through. Pope stays close to you, covering everyone’s back with quick sweeps behind him. Frankie and Pope stalk forward, guns raised as they peer through windows, sweep rooms and scan hallways. The building only has three floors above ground but it’s long. You clear the main entrance area and take the back stairs up to the second floor, avoiding the large curved staircase that loops around the open atrium of the entrance hall. 

The second floor is empty as well but the windows here give you a clear view of the main gate into the warehouse area, the crowd is still there, loud and angry. You can hear them through the windows and as you watch, waiting with Pope while Frankie and Benny clear a new set of rooms, you see the crowd surge forward, the chain link fence almost buckling under the pressure. It won’t be long before they break through. The soldiers are firing at the crowd, shouts are going up, but there are too many people, not enough soldiers. You see protesters fall but those behind push forward, the fence buckling and finally giving, falling flat to the ground as the protesters rush forward, towards the soldiers. 

You tap Pope’s shoulder and signal to the window. He watches for a few seconds and motions for you to move forwards. Frankie turns when he hears your footsteps and Pope points to the window. Benny turns as well and sees the crowd moving. 

“Myers and Cox will run if they see the crowd breaking through, they must be on the third floor, let's move up,” Benny whispers. The hallway you’re in is opening up onto the second floor of the atrium, curving along the building towards the stairs up to the third and final floor with a glass railing giving you a clear view of the main entrance hall below. Benny signals to Frankie to cover him while he opens the door to the back stairs, suddenly you hear running feet coming down the stairs at the other end of the atrium. Pope quickly grabs your arm and pulls you into the hallway again, Benny and Frankie duck in through the door to the back stairs, quickly scanning the stairwell. But a shout goes up from the other end, you’ve been spotted. 

“They’re in the building!” someone shouts, “Open fire, take them out!” 

“Cox,” Pope hisses behind you, shoving you further back and out of harm’s way as four men come down the stairs and start shooting. The curved staircase leading down to the first floor has a solid wall railing and with Frankie and Pope covering him, Benny darts across the hallway, ducking behind it. It gives him a better vantage point to take out Cox’s men and one of them soon drops with a shout. There’s not much cover for them at their end, only the wall of the staircase going up and the angle makes it difficult for them, giving your guys an advantage. Either bullets will run out or Cox and his men will have to retreat, they’re not getting past the four of you. You can sense Frankie’s eyes flitting to you, making sure you’re staying behind the cover of the wall in the hallway. You’re pressed against it, your gun drawn, but you stay put as Frankie had told you. 

Cox and his two remaining men start retreating, back up the stairs, and Benny and Pope advance forward, while Frankie remains behind, still in the doorway, covering them. He motions you forward to join him as Cox and the other men disappear up the stairs, Benny and Pope in pursuit. Just as you reach Frankie, you see Myers. He’s come down the back stairs behind Frankie with two other men, you shout a warning but he’s already rushing at Frankie, grabbing his gun arm and slamming him against the opposite wall. Frankie groans under the impact as Myers shoves him aside and lunges at you, you’ve raised your gun but not fast enough. Your shot goes wide, hitting the wall. You quickly dodge backwards, out into the hallway. From the corner of your eye you see Pope running back, the gunshot has alerted him and Benny to the new danger. Myers has longer legs and even though you back up fast, he’s on you with two quick strides as your back hits the railing, his hand outstretched to grab your gun. But his momentum pushes you backwards and you lose your footing, instinctively you grab his arm and your stomach lurches as you realize you’re falling backwards, pulling him with you. 

You think you hear a shout above you but you don’t have time to react, you smack down hard on the atrium floor, the wind rushing out of your lungs. At the last second you remember to protect your head and relax, Benny’s training kicking in. Myers lands hard next to you, you hear him groan and you try to make your limbs move, your breaths coming in small, shallow gasps as you struggle to regain your breath. You flop onto your belly and push yourself up, nothing seems broken but everything hurts and your legs are shaking. Your one saving grace is that Myers is just as winded as you, by the time he’s on his feet you’ve managed to move away from him. 

From above you hear shouts, through the glass railing you can see Pope fighting one of Myers’s men and by the sounds of it, Frankie is battling the second one just out of sight, shouting your name, there’s an edge of desperation to his voice and you can hear grunts from the other man as his fits make contact.  

“Fucking kitchen whore,” Myers growls at you, “should’ve taken you in with that other cunt, let you both have it.” He’s stalking towards you, cracking his neck as if to check that it’s not broken. You glance around you, your gun has fallen behind Myers, out of reach, and he smirks when he sees you look for it. He lunges for you then, and you dodge but you’re still trying to catch your breath, your legs unsteady and he gets hold of your hoodie, yanking you towards him, his other hand reaching for your hair. He’s big and has at least a foot on you in height, but as he glares down at you, you hear Benny’s voice in your head ‘I’m twice the size of you, use that against me’.

Myers snarls again, his hand coming up to grab your hair but this time you're expecting it, grabbing hold him first and twisting yourself and him, forcing him to let go of your hoodie as he steps back and trips over your leg. He doesn’t fall, but swings at your head, so wildly you can see it coming a mile away, ducking under it and landing a punch right over his spleen, making him double over. You try to hit his jaw with your elbow but he stumbles away from you, clutching his side. As you spin around, your fists raised he straightens up, his face red and furious, panting hard. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you little bitch,” he sneers, lunging at you again, like a bull rush. It makes it easier for you to dodge him again, your adrenaline spiking, you can practically hear Benny yelling instructions at you as you drop your body low and swipe at Myers’s legs. He twists around, trying to reach you, but he quickly loses his balance and smacks down on his face, as you slip to the side. You run for your gun but a warning shout goes up from the floor above, Frankie is running down the stairs and Myers is on his feet again, rushing you. You turn too late to dodge him but stumble back out of reach of his wild swing, he grabs at your arm, opening himself up and it’s as if you’ve got Benny next to you, pointing at the exact spot he wants you to hit; ‘Right there, hit them hard here, and they’ll drop.’

Your elbow makes contact with Myers’s temple, a hard, sickening thud reverberates through your arm, and Myers keels over, a dead weight on the floor. Frankie’s on you a split second later, his gun trained on Myers while he glances at you, trying to look both at you and Myers at the same time. 

“Are you hurt?” he gasps, still winded from his own fight and the run down the stairs. 

“Everything fucking hurts,” you wince, as you get a chance to feel through your body, “but nothing is broken.” 

A gunshot rings out from the hallway above and you both spin around but relax when you see Pope wave from above. 

“Just disposing of the last one, you got Myers under control?” 

“‘Course they do, my girl took him down like a fucking champ!” Benny grins, jogging down the stairs, “that final punch made me wince.” He raises his gun to Myers and Frankie lowers his, coming over to you, not satisfied by your answer about nothing being broken. 

“You fell fifteen feet, cariño,” he gently runs his hands through your hair, feeling your scalp, “how are you even standing?” 

“I’m fine Frankie, I’m going to be a walking bruise in a few hours, but nothing is broken, I covered my head, just like Benny taught me.” 

“You were fucking amazing, taking him down like that,” Frankie smiles. A groan from Myers makes him turn around and from above you hear Pope call down. 

“Take care of Myers, Ben, we need to catch up to Cox.” 

“My pleasure,” Benny growls and aims his gun towards Myers head, the man flinches and holds his hand up, the fight has completely gone out of him now that he’s woken up to Benny staring down at him. 

“Please, don’t, don’t,” he groans, “I’ll do anything, I can get you supplies, guns, anything, please, please.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna give me my brother’s wife back?” Benny spits out, “She was my family.” He takes a step forward and bends down, his gun pressed to Myers forehead. 

“Wait,” you hiss, making Ben pause his movement, lowering his gun as you walk over to Myers. “If you get to kill him, I get to do this first.” Stepping up to his feet splayed on the floor, you kick at them, spreading his legs. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll stop hurting when he kills you,” you growl, and aim a vicious kick with all the momentum you can gather, into his groin. A collective wince goes up from the men behind you as Myers howls in pain. 

“Now you can kill him,” you say to Benny, turning around.

The shot rings out behind you as you make your way up the stairs to Pope on the second floor. He’s eyeing you with equal parts admiration and fear. 

“Fuck, hermana…” his voice trails off as you give him a dark look. Frankie and Benny come up behind you and you catch Frankie giving you a worried look. Benny just claps you on the shoulder. 

“That’s done, now we get Cox,” he says, jogging off down the hallway towards the stairs Cox and the two remaining men disappeared up.

The three of you follow him, Pope and Ben, quickly scanning each doorway until you hit the final door, leading to the roof. You hang back while the three men advance up the staircase that leads to the roof. The door at the top of the stairs is ajar and Benny does a quick sweep before stepping through it. The roof is empty and you hear Benny curse. 

“Fuck, they’ve made a bridge across to the wall!” he calls, pointing over to a makeshift bridge, made with planks and iron girders, that makes it easy to cross to the next building and then over a second bridge to the top of the wall. “They must’ve built it only in the past few weeks, I didn’t even know it was here.” 

“There!” you point across the buildings, further along you can make out three men running along the wall. 

“C’mon,” Benny orders, taking off at a run, over the first bridge. It doesn’t take long for the four of you to cross over to the wall but by the time you get there, Cox and his men have spotted you. In the distance you can see him wave at his men to hold you off, as he runs further. Frankie’s hand on your shoulder forces you to crouch down behind some rubble when the shots start ringing out. You flinch as a shot bites into the wall close to you, a cloud of dust going up around the hole it leaves. But the two FEDRA soldiers are no match for the veteran Delta Force men, covering each other they quickly take them out and advance forward. Part of you is terrified at being shot at, the adrenaline of your fight with Myers wearing off, as you continue to jog behind Frankie, going after Cox. But another part of you is shouting with pride at seeing the three men, your men, working together with easy ruthlessness to take down anyone that stands in their way. They communicate wordlessly, only hand signals needed, to deal with any threat and when they advance they move in a precise pattern, each man knows where the other two are at any moment.

Cox is still some way away, he’s reached the main guard tower, the one that sits over the main gate to the QZ and it seems he’s realized he’s walked into a dead end, doing a quick spin inside the guard tower before he drops out of sight behind the waist high walls. The wall on the other side of the guard tower is a long straight stretch without any cover. The three Delta Force men would easily take him down with a single shot. And the only way down from the wall is by a wooden staircase, open and unprotected from above, it hugs the wall right between the guard tower and the four of you, he’d be a sitting duck. 

To your surprise the guard tower is empty, it’s usually manned by at least two soldiers at all times. But as you’ve moved along the top of the wall, you’ve heard shouts and gun fire from the QZ, maybe they have been called away to help quell the riots that have clearly broken out all across the QZ now. But there’s another noise, one that’s growing in level, from the other side of the wall. 

“Infected,” Frankie hisses, looking over the edge of the wall. The noise from inside the QZ must’ve attracted them because usually the soldiers only need to take out a few stragglers that come close enough, simple target practice if you forget your shooting at humans. Now there’s a horde of infected, runners they call them, rushing towards the gate, and no soldiers to take them out. The gate’s closed, of course, and thick, but as you see what looks like about fifty infected hurl themselves at the gate, you pray silently that it’s thick enough. This was not something any of you had anticipated happening when the riot started. 

Crouching down behind the angle of one of the walls, Pope quickly peeks over the wall too. 

“Fuck, not good, not good!” he calls over to Benny, who’s crouched down behind a crate just up ahead, “Will the gate hold for them?” 

“Yeah, it should hold,” he replies, still keeping an eye on Cox. He’s also spotted the infected by the gate and ducked his head inside the guard tower again. 

While Benny and Frankie cover him, Pope advances and then repeats the process with Benny and then you and Frankie. But Cox, who has been taking pot shots at you before, has stopped shooting. 

“Hopefully he’s out of ammo,” Benny says to Frankie as Pope makes another run, “Makes our job easier.” 

The final bit of cover for the four of you is just fifteen feet from the guard tower and as you all reach it, Benny calls out to Cox. 

“Give up, Cox, you’re out of ammo it seems, and nowhere to go.” 

“You get any closer, Miller, and you’re all dead!” Cox shouts, his voice shrill, his nerves betraying him. 

“I’ll take my chances,” Benny calls back, “you’re outnumbered.” 

“No, if you come any closer, I’ll make sure we’re all dead!” Cox shouts again, and this time his voice takes on a manic edge that has your hairs standing on end and you look over at Benny, he’s frowning with a slight shake of his head, he doesn’t understand either. 

“I mean it, let me go or I’ll open this fucking gate and let them in!” 

Your eyes go wide and you see your chock reflected in the faces of the others. 

“You know there’s controls for the main gate in here, Miller!” Cox calls, “And I’d rather let this whole fucking QZ get overrun than face that fucking riot you started. All over some fucking girl, Miller! Look at what you’ve done! It’s the fucking end of the world, shit happens, girls die!” His voice is hysterical, panic setting in. 

“Don’t do anything rash, Cox,” Benny calls back to him, “let’s just get off this wall and we’ll sort something out for you.” 

“No! Where’s Myers huh?! You fucking killed him already! I know!” 

“Benny,” Pope whispers, “we need to take him out before he actually opens the gate.” 

Benny nods and glances back at the guard tower, Cox is crouched down out of sight.

“I’ll keep talking to him, you sneak up and deal with him, kill him if you have to.” 

“That crowd is going to tear me to pieces,” Cox shrieks from behind the wall as Pope starts to move towards the tower. “The infected would be better, at least then you all die, not just me! I never did anything but good for this QZ! I kept you all safe for years! Years! Ungrateful fucking people! I’m going to fucking kill you all!” he screeches and you suddenly hear the telltale sound of metal scraping against stone. 

“No! Pope, stop him!” Benny yells, launching himself towards the tower as Pope covers the last few steps. You glance up over the wall and see Pope fire his gun at Cox, he’s out of sight but the heavy thud as his body hits the ground is enough to tell you he didn’t miss.. 

Benny slams his hand over the gate controls, “Stop, stop, fucking stop,” he yells, his voice taking on an edge of desperation you’ve never heard from him before. Frankie runs to the inside ledge of the wall and looks over the edge. 

“They’re inside!” he calls, “About twenty of them, we need to fucking go!”

You run to him and glance over the wall too, fear pools in the pit of your belly as you see the runners spread out, chasing towards the sounds of the riots further inside. Frankie quickly swings his rifle off his shoulder and aims, quickly taking out three infected, but a handful have already sprinted past the first corner, their speed and numbers breaking down the chain link fences that stand inside the quarantine area. Benny and Pope swing around and start shooting too, you bring your handgun up but Frankie stops you. 

“Save your ammo, you’re too far away to be able to take them down with that.” he says, bringing the scope of the rifle up to aim at another runner. 

“Stairs!” Benny yells, swinging his rifle around to the wood stairs where several infected are coming up. 

“We need to go!” Frankie yells again, taking your wrist. The infected are charging up the stairs, too many for you to take out in time. Benny gets off a final shot, momentarily slowing down the runners by killing the first one, his body falling back down the stairs. And then you’re running, Frankie’s hand like a vice around your wrist as the four of you sprint back the way you came. Behind you can hear the screech of the infected but you daren’t glance back to see how many there are. Your lungs are aching, Frankie’s long legs almost dragging you along as you try to keep up with his strides. When you reach the first bridge your chest aches and you’ve got a stitch jabbing your side. The bridge creaks as you run across it and Frankie drags you towards the next one, Pope just behind. 

“Benny! What the fuck! Move!” he yells as he realizes that Benny isn't right behind him. But Ben has stopped at the end of the first bridge, his hands frantically searching for something at the edge. 

“Benny!” you scream, the runners are so close, the first one already on the bridge, going right for him. Pope starts running back over the rooftop towards the bridge as Frankie swings his rifle off his shoulder again and takes aim, the first infected dropping just feet from Benny. 

“Benny!” you yell again, you can feel your voice cracking with panic but at the very last second, Benny finds what he’s looking for and yanks something out of the bridge, tumbling backwards with the effort. The bridge groans and collapses, the planks slipping off the iron girders and tumbling into the alley below, with a great clank the girders go the same way, taking the infected down. 

You feel the air leave your lungs as Benny stumbles to his feet, Pope at his side, and the two men run towards you and Frankie, over the second bridge. 

“You’re fucking insane, Miller!” you slap his arm harder than you mean to before hugging him. You can feel him breathing hard under your cheek. 

“We need to go, it’s not safe here,” Frankie says, clapping Benny’s shoulder, “Fucking awesome job, man.” 

“Herb’s idea, he implemented it a few years ago, a genius idea.” Benny lets go of you, squeezing your arm lightly before moving towards the door back into the HQ building. 

“I think we need to get out of the QZ and as far away as possible,” Pope says and Frankie nods. 

“Yeah, Cox killed everyone, fucking sick bastard. I never thought he'd be that twisted.” 

“Getting out of the QZ is your specialty,” Benny says, nodding at Santi, “lead the way, Pope.” 

Chapter 25

Tag list: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x reader (you) #benjamin miller #santiago garcia #tlou au #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

[logyisthemaincharacter]

Valentine's Day bliss

Series link

A/n: This one has a little less dialog.

These past few weeks, I've been going on more dates with Jack, and I have to say it's been quite a journey. It's like we've been on this rollercoaster of discovery, and I can't help but feel vulnerable with him.

I find myself eagerly looking forward to our next outing, whether it's trying out a new restaurant, going for a scenic hike, or simply enjoying each other's company over a cozy movie night. It's amazing how effortlessly we click and how comfortable I feel around him.

One of my favorite dates we went on was when he showed me around his Louisville. He took me to all these hidden gems and local spots that I never would have discovered on my own. It was like having a personal tour guide, and I loved getting to see a different side of the city through his eyes.

Another amazing date we had was a scenic train ride. The scenery was like something out of a postcard. Rolling hills, lush greenery, and charming little towns. We held hands, stealing glances at each other, as if we were the only two people in the world.

Whenever we're together, I feel this incredible sense of happiness and excitement. Jack has this way of making me feel like I'm the most important person in the world.

There's something about Jack's charm, his wit, and the way he makes me feel special that keeps drawing me closer to him. It's like we have this unspoken understanding and a shared sense of adventure that makes every moment with him feel like a new and exciting chapter in our story. I often find myself getting lost in his stories, his laughter, and the way he looks at me with those sparkling eyes.

But it's not just about the surface-level attraction and fun we have. It's also about the deeper connection we've been building. Jack is so caring and attentive. He's been there for me in ways I never expected. He's been my biggest cheerleader, supporting me in my goals and dreams. He's listened to my doubts and fears, and he's always there to remind me of my strength and worth. It's like he sees the best in me, even when I struggle to see it myself.

I can't deny the way my heart skips a beat when I'm with Jack. I find myself smiling for no reason. It's like he's become this constant presence in my life, and I can't imagine it any other way.

Today is Valentine's Day, and I really wanted to do something special for Jack. He's been going above and beyond with all these amazing dates, making me feel like the luckiest person in the world. I want to show him just how much I appreciate him and all the effort he's put into making our time together unforgettable.

Even though I told him not to do anything for Valentine's Day, he went above and beyond to surprise me.

I was still half asleep, stumbling into my living room, when I was hit with the most intoxicating scent of flowers. And there, all across the room, was the most jaw-dropping sight I had ever seen. It was a massive display of 1000 pink peonies, filling the entire space with their vibrant colors and delicate petals.

I couldn't believe my eyes! I mean, who does that? Jack, that's who. He had somehow managed to sneak into my house while I was sleeping and set up this breathtaking surprise. The sheer effort and thoughtfulness behind it melted my heart.

I immediately called Jack, half in disbelief and half in awe, to thank him for this incredible gesture. He confessed that he just couldn't resist showing me how much he cared. And boy, did he succeed!

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of emotions. Every time I walked past that sea of pink peonies, I couldn't help but smile and feel overwhelmed with love. It was a constant reminder of Jack's affection and how lucky I was to have him in my life.

I know Jack loves nature, so I decided to create a magical experience in the great outdoors. I found the perfect spot in the woods and set up a beautiful bubble tent. It's transparent, so we can see the starry sky above us as we enjoy our evening together.

Inside the tent, I made sure to create a cozy and romantic atmosphere. I laid out soft blankets, fluffy pillows and adorned the space with twinkling fairy lights. It feels like our own little private paradise.

I knew I had to cook something that would make Jack's heart skip a beat. And what better way to do that than with creamy lemon chicken pasta? It's a perfect dish that to impress him and satisfies his chicken cravings.

So here I am finishing the last few touches for the date, fussing over the blanket arrangements, making sure they's messy enough to look cozy. My focus is so intense that I don't even hear Jack approaching.

Just as I'm carefully adjusting the pillows, Jack appears at the entrance of the tent, causing me to jump in surprise. The sound of his footsteps had been masked by rustling leaves, so his unexpected presence startled me.

I let out a small yelp. Jack can't help but laugh at my reaction, his eyes full of amusement. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He comes closer and hugs me.

I sigh, chuckling and gladly embracing him, feeling the comfort of his strong arms around me. "I was just caught off guard. It's okay." I pull back, looking up at him, "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Happy Valentine's Day to you too." He leans down, gently pressing his lips against my cheek.

I pull away, feeling my cheeks heat up, tugging on him to sit down with me, "Thanks again for all those flowers this morning. It really caught me by surprise. And you still haven't told me how you got into my place."

He chuckles, putting his arm around me, pulling me close, "That part wasn't easy, so I'm not gonna tell you what lengths I went through to get there." He covers our legs with one of the blankets. "Don't worry about it."

"When did you even have time for it? How did I not wake up? What am I gonna do with all those flowers when they die?"

"We'll figure that out later." He pulls a tiny box out of his jacket's pocket. "I got you something else." He holds it out to me.

"Jack, I don't want anymore gifts. One bunch of flowers would've been enough. You already overdid that part." I place my hand on the box, slightly pushing it away.

"Just open it, please. I really took my time picking these out." He looks at me pleadingly.

With a sigh, I take the box and lift the lid. My eyes widen, and my mouth hangs open as a pair of golden Dior hoops appear in front of me. These must've cost a fortune!

Immediately, I put the lid back on and shove the box back in his hand. A wave of confusion washes over his face. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

"No, it's beautiful. It really is. I just can't accept that." I avoid eye contact. "Tonight was supposed to be about me doing something nice for you. Not you bombarding me with expensive gifts. And by the way, you said I should just look. I never said I was taking them."

"Logan, please. This isn't even that big of a deal. Please just take the earrings."

"I just don't want to seem like I'm only here for your money of fame." I rub my arm, slowly looking up at him.

"And I know that. 'Cause I know you." He places the box in my hands again. "I felt like I wanted to buy them for you, and I did. If I ever thought that you were using me, we wouldn't even be sitting here."

I look at the box, then at him. He really means well. "Since we're doing the gift thing, I'm going to give you yours as well." I dig behind all the pillows for the box.

"Oh, Logan, you shouldn't have." He mocks me.

I hit his shoulder as I pull the box out with my other hand. I put it on the pallet table. "I put a lot of sense it this gift. You better like it." I glare at him playfully.

"I can feel this is something good." He sits forward a little, observing it, probably thinking about what could be in there.

I feel so nervous. I've never gone this far with gifts. But Jack is very special to me. My hands are literally shaking, and my heart is beating faster than ever.

He takes the box in his hands and rips the wrapping paper. He sees the logo on the box, widening his eyes his eyes in shock. He carefully opens it, revealing a brand new silver Rolex GMT-Master II.

"And you didn't want expensive gifts." He takes it out and hugs me.

"That's not all. Flip it over."

As he turns the watch over and sees all his albums engraved on the back, his emotions overflow. "This is one of the best gifts I've ever gotten."

"Every time you write a new album, you can just add it there. Or I can."

"I think I'll leave the engraving to you." He smiles at the watch, mesmerized.

We spend the evening stargazing through the transparent walls of the bubble tent. The night sky is a breathtaking tapestry of stars, constellations, and the occasional shooting star. We point out our favorite constellations, making wishes upon those shooting stars and feeling a sense of awe and wonder at the vastness of the universe.

We end up cuddling up together, our bodies entwined, feeling the warmth and comfort of each other's presence. The soft glow of the fairylights adds a touch of romance, casting a warm and cozy ambiance.

For the past hour, Jack has been explaining basketball to me. He's like a walking encyclopedia of basketball knowledge, and his excitement is contagious.

Jack started by breaking down the basics of the game, explaining the rules, positions, and strategies. He made sure I understood everything, even patiently answering my endless questions.

Then, he dove into the rich history of the Boston Celtics, sharing stories of legendary players like Larry Bird, Bill Russell, and Paul Pierce. He described their incredible achievements, the intense rivalries, and the unforgettable moments that have made the Celtics such an iconic team.

But it wasn't just about the past for Jack. He also talked about the current Celtics roster, highlighting their talented players and their unique playing styles. He explained how the team's strong work ethic and dedication to teamwork have made them a force to be reckoned with.

Throughout his hour-long basketball lesson, Jack's enthusiasm never wavered. He used animated gestures, drew diagrams on napkins, and even pulled up highlight videos on his phone to illustrate his points. It was like having my own personal sports commentator right there with me.

The whole time, my eyes have been fixed on him with curiosity and admiration.

"Logan?"

"Yes?"

"You keep staring at me like that and..." His voice drifts off.

"And what?"

His broad chest rises and falls, as if he just took a deep, maybe even nervous, breath. "I can't be held responsible for what I might do."

In a flash, his lips are on mine. He's kissing me. Jack Harlow is kissing me. As if he had been starved for eternity. Just like a beast meant to devour me. His hard body coming against mine, desperately seeking anything I'd give him.

Our lips open, ravaging each other's mouthes, while his large palms roam down my sides. Down, down, down they go, stopping just below my waist. My hands fly to his chest, and I relish how hard it feels, how warm, how perfectly solid.

For a moment, we break apart. Just to catch our breath.

He rests his head against mine. "I like talking to you. I just didn't think I'd like kissing you even more."

"Then do it again."

His lips meet mine again and again and again, drugging me into a delirium I never want to escape. It's like swimming in molasses. It's like being dipped in gold. It's like diving into an ocean of emotion, and I'm too swept up in the current to realize I'm drowning, and nothing matters anymore.

This is the only thing that matters.

This kiss.

This moment.

These lips.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow angst

[merakiui]

Hey I gotta interrupt your Sampo posting with Mermay update

Octomouche

OMG YES OTL I am so ill for octomouche. I have written some octomouche before, namely here and here. But I am always ready and willing to discuss more of him!!! >:D

Octomouche who sinks your ship and spares you only because he thinks you're interesting (read: not annoying like other humans), and he keeps you tucked away in his underwater cave. But you keep complaining about how it’s cold and dark and how you’re so scared, and so it’s starting to annoy him. >:( but he likes you too much to get rid of you because you heal the lonely parts of his three hearts, so you’ll just have to learn to accept this situation. You will when he fills you up with lots of eggs!!!!

Octomouche in captivity. Aaaaa he hates the researchers, especially Dottore!! He’s always a hater for Dottore! The amount of researchers he’s yanked into the tank to drown or strangle is too many to count. He’s sneaky, so sometimes he’s close to escaping his confinements. But then he’s always mindful of the cameras and he knows he’s always being watched and listened to. It’s so troublesome. The researchers have this brilliant idea to help him get used to humans by allowing him to bond with one. You’re forced tasked with this mission (because no one else wants to step within a few meters of the tank of a venomous sea beast). It’s rough at first because he’s so averse to humankind, but eventually he’ll warm up to you. He’s such a temperamental mer, grousing over the times when you’re late (even if it’s by only a minute or two) or huffing about how you spent too much time talking to the researchers in the doorway before coming in to see him. He gets attached because you’re one of the few humans who isn’t downright terrified of him and you take the time to understand his perspective. You are his ideal human, but then he knows he can’t be with you in the way other humans can. He can’t walk on land. He’s confined to the sea. But that doesn’t matter to him. He’ll just drag you to his depths so you’ll never leave him. :)

Octomouche with a hunter!darling. >:) he’s been terrorizing fishing vessels for too long now and as a result your town’s fish hauls are getting scarce, along with the amount of people you’re losing each time a ship is sunk. You’re a renowned beast hunter and so the task falls to you to capture this deep-sea beast so fishing can safely resume. Octomouche hates it when humans intrude on his territory, but since it’s only you he supposes killing you would be too easy (and not nearly as satisfying). He’ll just have to give you a proper fright, one that has all of your equipment sinking and your boat being dragged out to sea until all you’ll see is blue on each side and vast, endless sky above. And just beneath the surface, a monstrosity lurks, waiting for you to use your puny human brain to think of a way out. :) the only way out is into his waiting tentacles, after all.

Octomouche who rules over an underwater kingdom and he takes you (an unfortunate peasant/servant mer) as his (forced) lover. You have no idea if he even likes you; he’s so mean to you. :( he’s only using you to hold all of his eggs so he’ll have plenty of heirs for the future because he’s deemed you suitable enough to carry such an important thing. You can’t deny him or protest because he has so much authority over you, and he’s threatened you with death in all horrific ways every time you’ve even hinted at disobedience. But secretly he can’t live without you because you’re the first real companion he’s ever had, albeit a forced one, and he’s grown too attached to entertain a life without you. <3 maybe he’ll whisper a fragile “I love you” when he’s fucking you next time, but you’ll be too sex-drunk to hear it hehe. And even if you do hear it, he’ll adamantly deny it and tell you you’re stupid for thinking stupid things about stupid (im)possibilities. (He is madly in love with you, but the rizz is highly threatening.)

#genshin chit chat #ellenoir #yandere scaramouche #the gif too...... he's perfect i need him #i can hear him so clearly: 'who would have thought the world would be so eager for my birth?' #ME I AM EAGER IT'S ME LORD SCARAMOUCHE OTL #YOUR MOST DEVOUT FOLLOWER!!!!

[skoulsons]

“Joel?”

“Upstairs.”

He started to take up wood carving. He spent a week earnestly making this spare room into something he could use for the hobby. It had enough wall space to hang the guitars he made, and he built some shelves for the wooden animals that didn’t make their way to other random shelves around their downstairs. The closet has enough room for any extra supplies, and the windows offered the perfect amount of natural light for his work.

Ellie entered the room, Joel’s back to her as he softly hummed while working on a new little project. “Hi,” she greeted, coming up behind his chair and peering over his shoulder.

“Hey, baby girl,” he smiled, resting his arms on the table and turning to her. “Goin’ out?”

“Yeah, Dina and Jesse want to meet at the Tipsy Bison for some food.”

Joel nodded, a hesitant smile. He trusted those two, but his heart always dropped to his stomach when he couldn’t see Ellie. Nothing would happen to her as she was just walking three minutes away to the establishment, but he still worried. “Good. Good, I’m glad you’re hanging out with them.” He was. She was making friends. She was bonding with other people. She was laughing again. It was good.

“Joel, I’ll be fine,” she reassured, trying to calm his obvious nerves that always surfaced when she left the house. He breathed in, preparing a response, but she spoke again, kneeling beside his chair to be more level with him. “What’re you working on?”

He smiled proudly. Whether she was genuinely interested or not, he loved these moments with her. Getting to talk about wood carving was nice, too. He lifted the creature up, twisting it back and forth. “A lion. Mane is being a pain in the ass though. Can’t quite get it right.”

“You made a fucking detailed elephant, I think you can manage a lion’s mane.”

“Maybe so, kiddo.” He lifted the knife again to start picking at the mane again.

A minute of silence passed as she watched him tentatively carve away at the lion’s mane. He had everything else down, down to the detail of its paws. She sighed. You should stay. “I should go, they’re probably waiting for me,” she said, using the arm of his chair to push herself up.

“Hey-“ he called, his hand finding hers on the arm of his chair. He dropped the knife, turning towards her. Ellie rolled her eyes and squatted back down beside him.

He grabbed the opposite side of her head, bringing her head close and kissing the hair above her ear. A second one, always. “Be safe,” he whispered into her hair.

If there were around anyone, she’d be way too embarrassed over this. But in the comfort of their home? She relished in it.

“Always,” she promised. She squeezed his hand once, letting go as she pushed herself up completely and headed for the door.

Every damn door in the house creaked, and this one was no exception. She pulled the handle towards herself as she backed out of the room, eyes still on Joel.

“Love you, kiddo,” he called, the creaking of the door abruptly stopping as Ellie paused.

I love you so much. She rested her head against the door briefly, smiling to herself. She sighed again, contentment lingering on her breath. “Love you, too.”

#I wrote that post about him kissing her head #and that paired with a nearly hour long tear stained breakdown over them #plus my love for wood carving and whittling and everything wood #idk this came to be #goodnight very very sleepy rn #I hope this is coherent #the last of us hbo #joel miller #ellie williams #L writes

[scribbling-dragon]

kiss of not-drowning

summary:

“Ugh, you know what I mean, you dick.” Martyn drags a hand down his face. “I only meant that I’d appreciate you maybe giving me more than a split second to come to terms with everything before I'm inhaling a lungful of water.”

“You're fine.” He waves it off. “A little water never hurt anybody.”

(ao3 link)

(2,967 words)

He twitches slightly as sleep begins to roll off of him, like waves retreating from the shoreline. The very last dregs of sleep cling to him as he stirs, but he fights his way to the surface anyway, shaking those last few clinging threads of dreams away; he blinks, eyes opening to darkness. The sun isn't even beginning to peer over the horizon, the sky above remaining dark.

He glances to the side, ears straining for what might have dared to wake him at an hour like this- it’s ridiculous being awake this early! No one but insane people are awake at this time. Like Joel, because bad boys don't have bedtimes. Frankly, Scott thinks they're all being ridiculous, and Jimmy would have been able to avoid almost drowning if he didn't listen to Joel and Grian as much as he does. Jimmy’s just lucky Tango finds his idiotic tendencies endearing rather than stressful.

Martyn lies in the bed parallel to his, face smushed into his pillow and mouth slightly open. He can hear him snoring, but it’s nowhere near loud enough to have woken him up. He only considered smothering Martyn in his sleep once before he got used to the snoring, anyway. His arm hangs over the edge of the bed, knuckles just barely grazing over the wooden floorboards as it hangs there, with Martyn looking like he’s moments away from sliding out of the bed completely and making the floor his new home.

His ears twitch, mostly human right now, as the sound of footsteps reaches his ears. He doesn't move his head, continuing to lie on his side as he listens. The sound of shifting sugar cane gave them away, probably- was likely what woke him. Unless they walked in through the front door, with its artfully creaky hinges that alert them whenever someone steps foot onto their island. He hardly dares to breathe as he listens, worried he might miss the moment they begin up the steps to where they sleep- maybe they should have chosen a more protective home than the one they currently use, but anything more and it would have been far too warm to sleep and they'd have ended up outside anyway.

There’s the sound of muffled voices - two voices - a small back and forth between them as something is discussed. It’s almost too quiet for him to hear, especially with one ear still pressed into his pillow and mind fogged with sleep; he hears it anyway. He can't hear enough to make out what they're saying, but it’s enough to identify their location.

The sounds of movement stop after several more long and torturous seconds, pausing just below where they're both asleep. He swallows, looking back at Martyn again. His teammate sleeps on, face still pressed deep into his pillow and oblivious to the panic beginning to race through Scott’s system. The intruders- whoever it is, obviously know this island. So it’s someone that has visited them before, which…doesn't actually narrow it down all that much. But they're sheltering just out of sight from where he currently is, so that even if one of them did wake up they certainly wouldn't see them.

He swallows thickly, then freezes, worried that the sound was too loud- carried too far and alerted the intruders that he’s awake and listening. He listens, waits for one, or both, of the intruders to cry out and rush up the steps- too fast for anything to be done except pray for a quick death. 

But nothing happens, and he exhales softly, listening as they begin speaking again. The hurried whispers barely reach his ears, hardly audible over the sound of the crashing waves. The crashing waves. The same crashing waves that are probably too loud, too distracting, for the intruders to hear anything over. A plan forms in his mind, only half-planned and halfway thought through, but it’s enough to get both him and Martyn out of the immediate line of fire- and Martyn’s great at thinking on his feet! Far better than Scott is, but he needs Martyn awake for him to begin thinking, and waking him is another matter entirely.

He slips from his bed, sheets falling back onto the mattress with a muffled thump (too quiet to be heard over the crashing waves, he reminds himself, too quiet). He could wake his teammate, could pull him from the land of dreams and hope that he remains quiet enough that the intruders do not hear him. But that has many, many ways for it to go incredibly wrong (Martyn can be incredibly loud, most often with his laughter, but waking loudly now is the last thing Scott needs- he needs quietness and secrecy, enough for them to escape unscathed).

He avoids the squeaky floorboard as he creeps towards Martyn, ears remaining pricked for any indication that their intruders are on the move once more, that they've ended their hushed conversation and come to a decision (surely it’s a bad idea to approach another base with so little of a plan that they have to stop halfway to discuss what they're going to do- Scott can only thank them for their lack of planning). They are not, their whispered conversation still drifting towards him on the salty breeze as he deliberates, hand hovering over Martyn’s shoulder.

It rises and falls, just slightly, with the motions of sleep. He still doesn't so much as twitch, even as Scott’s shadow falls over him (him and Martyn certainly need to have a conversation after this, if he doesn't so much as wake even if someone looms over him as he sleeps- he could be killed so easily, and then Scott would be alone, again-).

If he wakes Martyn before making another move, it has several ways in which it could go wrong. The largest of those being Martyn making a loud sound- something to alert their intruders. Something which he does quite often when woken from his slumber unexpectedly. He has a habit of waking with a yell, which is probably due to surprise, but Scott can't think of a nicer way to be woken than how he already does it (and, in fairness, he lets Martyn sleep in rather often, even if it means he has to check on the sugar cane alone- the silence whilst also knowing that there is someone else there is almost comforting, and he takes the small comforts where he can in these games).

No, the second option is far easier, even if it will be a far ruder awakening.

He spares a momentary apology to Martyn, offering it up slightly - but it is better to seek forgiveness afterwards rather than ask permission and risk being horribly murdered, he reasons - and grabs Martyn by the shoulders, hands closing around both skin and fabric. He doesn't give Martyn even a moment, hearing his choked-off yell, strangling its way from his throat as Scott begins pulling him- yanking him towards the small balcony.

He only hesitates for a moment, Martyn’s yell still ringing in his ears, faintly registering that Martyn is gripping onto him as well, nails digging into his skin. The sound of a scramble below reaches his ears as well- their intruders obviously realising that they're awake and currently in the process of escaping. He doesn't hesitate a moment longer, hearing footsteps echoing up the steps behind him, slamming over the wooden flooring-

He throws himself over the balcony, thankful that he chose to build so close to the water (for this exact reason, for when people began sneaking in during the night- attempting to strike when the moon is at its highest; underhanded tactics, and not something he can't respect). Martyn resists a little, but Scott can only hope he follows willingly now, because he risks both a dislocated shoulder and death if he doesn't. Resistance does not meet him- his arm is not suddenly jerked back as Martyn fails to follow. Instead, he continues falling, releasing Martyn’s shoulders and hoping the other remembers to hold his breath.

The water swallows them easily, bubbles streaming from his nose as he ducks beneath the water, eyes squinted shut against the salt- against the stinging of his eyes as the water rushes into his nose and attempts to choke him. His hair swirls around him as he darts backwards, reaching out to pull Martyn with him, retreating into the shadow of their island.

An arrow shoots into the water around the same time the numbness in his legs has spread to his knees, steadily climbing higher. The arrow plunges into the water with enough force to send bubbles spiralling upwards- a force that can only ever be achieved with a crossbow. He breathes out, a stream of bubbles leaving his nose, gathering in a small pool below the island, shining faintly in the water.

Martyn continues to hold onto his arm, nails biting into his skin a little less, though his grip is no less tight. He flicks his tail back and forth, shuddering as the last of the transformation washes over him, shutting his eyes against the vertigo that threatens to disorientate him. Only once the dizzying feeling has vanished, does he dare to open them again, squinting for a moment as his eyes readjust to the darkness of the water.

“Aw, c’mon,” a voice from above reaches his ears, distorted by the water and land between them, but it reaches him nonetheless. And with relative clarity. “I thought we had them.”

“We almost did, but you sneezed!” Scott didn't even hear one of them sneeze, he’d been far too focused on leaving and planning their escape route to notice someone sneezing- which is actually a little worrying now that he thinks about it.

“When a man’s gotta sneeze he’s gotta sneeze, Pearl.” Ah. Well, he’s just managed to identify their intruders. Martyn squeezes his arm, where he’s still gripping, but Scott ignores him for a moment longer, following the conversation.

“Your sneezing’s cost us half an hour each.” He can almost hear the frown in Pearl’s voice, though it’s offset a little by the small giggle he hears a moment later, warping oddly with the water. “Aw, I really wanted to kill Scott as well.”

“Yeah, well, they're long gone now- did you know Scott was that fast of a swimmer?”

“Nah,” Pearl pauses for a moment. “He hasn't gone near water for the entirety of this go-around, and then he just jumps in the water immediately! I thought we had him cornered!” And this is why you should never make assumptions! Only ever work on facts and pretty-much-a-fact facts, that’s how you get consistent information and a good idea of how people work.

Martyn yanks at his arm, threatening to pull it from its socket, and he turns to look at him, gills fluttering in annoyance as he’s pulled away from the conversation above- he was waiting to see if one of them would turn on the other. If they turn on each other, there’s one less person to worry about-

Martyn gestures frantically at his face, a few more bubbles spilling from his lips as he gestures, panic written into every feature of his face, and- oh, oh dear. He panics for a moment, brain whiting out as he struggles to come up with any solution- anything that might stop Martyn from drowning in this moment, because it looks like a pretty close thing. How long can humans hold their breath for? He could've sworn it was something like ten minutes- is it not? They've been under for barely two minutes, maybe his facts were wrong?

An idea crashes over him, like a particularly violent wave, and he doesn't stop to consider it for longer than necessary- because letting Martyn drown would actually be really embarrassing, for both him and Martyn.

He brings his hands up carefully, aware that he’s slightly larger than Martyn in this form, allowing his hands to frame his teammates face carefully. Martyn stares back at him, eyes wide, one of his hands coming up to wrap lightly around Scott’s wrist. Pearl and BigB are still talking above them, but it fades into background noise as Scott draws Martyn a little closer, close enough for their noses to brush against each other.

He connects their lips, half-faded memories of short bursts of power being granted by kisses like this one. He doesn't focus on those memories for too long, too caught up in the way Martyn runs that hand - that same hand that had previously encircled his wrist - up his arm, brushing over patches of scales in a way that makes him shudder, a shiver crawling up his spine despite the warm water surrounding them.

He sinks deeper into the kiss, Martyn’s lips warm against his own. His teeth scrape against Martyn’s lips and he exhales, feels Martyn drink the short burst of power in- he can feel the exchange of it, the small shifting beneath his skin. Martyn hardly seems to notice, pulling a hand through Scott’s hair, tugging harshly on the strands before he allows the grip to fall away once more.

Scott pulls back a moment later, bubbles spilling from his own lips as he stares at Martyn. Small patches of scales seem to have appeared around Martyn’s eyes, but he can see several of them already melting back into normal skin once more- not something that lasts then, only enough time for Scott to pull them to safety.

Martyn looks up at him from beneath heavy-lidded eyes- Scott doubts he can actually see anything but he appreciates it anyway, and- nope! Can't get distracted, because they only have a few minutes before Martyn starts drowning again.

He darts down into the water, away from the island- the conversation above had faded several moments ago, so there’s nothing left for him to listen to there. He ducks beneath a large branch of coral, pulling Martyn behind him, then pushing him in front, directing him towards the small gap in the seabed.

It’s unnoticeable unless you view it at this very specific angle, and he watches Martyn struggle to see it for another few moments, eyes squinted shut. He gives him a small nudge closer to the gap, watching as Martyn finally spots it, grabbing onto the rock around the rim of it to pull himself forward, disappearing into the small gap.

He waits a moment before following, fins flattening as he darts through the small tunnel, twisting slightly to move around the bend before surfacing again. He inhales quickly, only coughing slightly as his lungs rid themselves of the residual water.

Martyn is still spluttering, leaned against the edge of the pool, chin resting on the rock beyond. He looks rather miserable, something that is not at all helped by the lacklustre light from the singular lantern (maybe he should have invested in more lanterns for this place), and the way his hair drips over his face.

He looks like a cat that has been given a bath against its will.

He’s shivering as well, despite the warm water they're both still sat in.

“I’d appreciate a warning next time,” Martyn groans, tipping his head to the side so he can look at Scott. He coughs again, though it sounds rather put-upon.

“Ah, right, yes, of course.” He nods, swimming to the small ledge Martyn is currently resting on, leaning an arm against the rock lip. “Sorry, next time I’ll be sure to wake you and give our attempted murderers plenty of warning, so that they can still murder us.”

“Ugh, you know what I mean, you dick.” Martyn drags a hand down his face. “I only meant that I’d appreciate you maybe giving me more than a split second to come to terms with everything before I'm inhaling a lungful of water.”

“You're fine.” He waves it off. “A little water never hurt anybody.”

“I almost drowned.”

“Almost!” Scott grins. “Not did. Come on, Martyn, you think I’d let you drown?”

“You stole my breath away with that kiss,” Martyn grins. “Though I do believe you were trying to do the opposite.”

“And it worked.” He says, then quieter. “Thankfully.”

“I- Scott!” Martyn smacks at him, sending water scattering across the cave. “You did that without knowing if it would work! What if it didn't! What- just, ah well, guess you're gonna die now. But at least you got a good snog out of it?”

“I-” he breaks off into a laugh. “Would that be good enough for you?”

“No!” Martyn’s laughing too. “You're a good kisser and all, totally not complaining, but it was underwater and I was actively drowning for the first half of it!” Martyn pauses for a moment, then he grins- which is not at all worrying at all, the sudden switch from complaining to grinning at him like that does not make something in his stomach swoop. “Though…I could be convinced otherwise.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really. You owe me a little more than one kiss to make up for that. I think that might be worse than when you thought smothering me would be a good way to wake me up.” Scott hadn't actually meant to wake him up with that, it was done because Martyn just continued snoring. Not that he needs to know that.

“How demanding of you,” he swishes his tail in the water behind them as Martyn inches closer, slightly drier than before. He brings a hand up to the side of Martyn’s face, trailing his fingers across the skin there almost reverently. Martyn watches him back.

“How many do you need before it’s enough?” He asks, whispered into the small space between them.

“As many as you can give.”

#juno.writes #scott smajor #martyn inthelittlewood #limited life smp #limited life spoilers #limited life #life series #trafficshipping #trafficblr #traffic smp #traffic series #trafficverse #majorwood #limited life scott #limited life martyn #mean gills #coral kids #mer scott (+ fishfucker martyn) #<- series name! #trafficfic

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hi Petri, so I was wondering (cause I know you have many aks) if you could do a Gally x fem! reader where she's with the rebels from death cure, and she's one of the people who find him almost dying in that room after the maze. She's super nice but can put up with his awful attitude, he hates being taken care of cause he feels remorse about what he did to his friends and she helps him overcome his self pity. And then in the end he sees the boys again and Frypan is excited cause Gally is with someone who can actually stand him and make him a "better" person. (Hope this was understandable, luv you)

This is the Gally content I was looking for.

Also, lu, I messaged you a while back when you sent me another request about TMR about a different Maze type. I don't think it was that important to the story but I just wanted to clear it up lmao and I don't think you saw it. So if you could get back to me that'd be great :))

DEAD MAN WALKING PT. 1

MASTERLIST | GALLY MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2

SUMMARY: See above. Movie based fic.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, Gally nearly dying, Chuck's body, the aftermath of the Maze, Lawrence. WICKED being WCKD because movie.

You weren't always one of Lawrence's men.

For anyone that wasn't immune, working for WCKD or lucky enough to find themselves in the Last City- life was a shitshow.

If you were even lucky enough to live, chances are you lost your parents to the Flare before you hit double digits. That's if you didn't catch it yourself. And no one cares about your sob-story either. You're just another poor bastard who has dealt with the same shit as everyone else.

Tough.

You lost your parents when you were about twelve, and got swept into smuggling serum from place to place. Or as it's known on the streets- Bliss.

Which is how you met Lawrence.

He became one of your regular buyers, and by the time you hit fifteen, you'd been swept into his growing group of radicals.

Lawrence likes you. You're kind but capable, and not afraid to draw blood need be. Which is why you're one of his main men- and you get to boss other people around.

Somehow, Lawrence got wind of WCKD facilities out in the Scorch, which, unfortunately for you, means trekking out there to check them out.

Luckily, you'd managed to get ahold of some old ranger trucks that you blatantly stole off of WCKD.

"Let's go, boys!" You hollar as you lean out of the side of the open front vehicle, holding onto the windscreen pole.

It's quite an unpopular opinion, but you actually quite like the Scorch. It's barren and massive, and empty.

Not one really comes out here and it's one of the few places you and your men can actually mess around a bit.

I mean, it's not like you're going to actually find anything in the Scorch, right? You accepted a long time ago that Lawrence is chasing rainbows and they're never going to let him into the Last City.

It's not like you don't have ways into the City. But Lawrence wants the entire population to live there, and he wants to shut down the walls for good. So, for now, you're stuck trying to find ways to do that.

"Uh, Boss?" The driver says as you stare off into the sand. "You seein' this?"

"Huh?" You turn.

Perpendicular to the way you're driving, you can just see the top of a massive stone structure from over the top of some of the dunes. "The hell?"

"Should we check it out?"

"Yeah, let's go." You put your fingers to your lips, sending out a high-pitched whistle. "Let's go!" You signal the other cars behind you, waving in the direction of the structure.

You drive over the sand, bouncing over the soft surface.

"Holy shit," you mumble, the building coming into view properly as you come over the dune.

It's unfathomably big and round. Looming stone walls that covers hundreds of metres of the Scorch. It has to be miles long as you approach.

"There!" You point. "There's an entrance!"

You grind to a halt, sand flickering everywhere as you jump out. Your automatic rifle is pulled up from the strap on your shoulders as you hold it, walking through the doors. Your men aren't far behind you as you enter the the building.

"What the fuck?" Someone behind you mutters.

In front of you is a destroyed laboratory. High tech computers and shattered glass litters the place, along with the corpses of several people dressed in white coats.

"What happened here?" You look around, lowering your gun and freezing when you find a body.

It's a kid. He's chubby and has curly brown hair. Can't be any older than thirteen. Blood stains his chest and his vacant stare is just another line on the list of horrors you've seen.

You crouch next to him. "What happened to you, buddy?"

You touch his face. Cold.

You sigh, moving your hand and closing his eyes. "Poor sod."

"Uh, Boss, we got another," you look up. One of your guys stands over another body. He's fallen on his side, a spear sticking straight through his chest and out the other side.

"Jesus," you stand up again, walking over.

The boy has black spider veins all over his body and his eyes are completely dark. You've never seen anything like it.

Looking around the lab, you spot large syringes full of a strange blue liquid. Walking over to the table where they are, you pick one up.

But you partially jump out of your skin when there's a sharp gasp from behind you, accompanied with a string of swear words from your colleagues.

The boy on the floor is alive and squirming.

"He's alive?" You ask, in some form of shock. "How is that even possible?"

No one responds as the boy starts to thrash, letting out a blood-curdling scream. It's almost like something is moving under his skin as you look at what's in your hand and then back at him.

Storming over, you slam the syringe into his arm.

Almost immediately, he stills again, his eyes and skin quickly returning to normal.

"What the hell? What did you just do?" You ignore the confusion from your men.

Pressing your fingers to the boy's throat, you feel a pulse and he seems to be breathing- somehow. He's unconscious again, though.

"Contact Lawrence," you instruct, "someone else help me get him up."

"What?"

"He needs a doctor."

"So, what? We're taking him with us?"

"If we save him- he might have information on what was going on here. We can always come back. Come on!"

It's a bit of a rush against time to get him back to base and the outskirts of the City. But he's still alive, somehow.

You have one of the best top surgeons on your side. He used to work in the City, but he's infected, so he was thrown out. So, now he's using the little time he has left to help you guys.

"You really think this guy is worth it?" You pace the common area, a couple of your close allies watching.

"Lawrence seems to think so."

"This is dumb. We should've just raided the place and let the bastard rot."

"Oi," you snap, "watch it. We're meant to be for the people, remember? That means everyone."

It's been days since you brought him in, and you're starting to think it's a dead end. But you couldn't just leave him there.

"Miss," one of the surgeon's assistants pops his head around the corner, "he's awake."

You exchange glances with the others before slipping away. Going down the halls, you reach the "medical" room. Which is basically just a bed and some stolen IV drips.

The boy sits on the bed, his head in his hands and a bloodied bandage around his chest.

"You got a name?" You ask. He's noticed your presence, but hasn't said anything, so you decide to speak.

Nothing.

"Hey," you continue, "you alright, man?"

"Where am I?" He asks eventually, his hands flopping into his lap. "Why am I alive?"

"Looks like it wasn't your time," you shrug. "Sorry."

"I should be dead. I hurt... I killed Chuck." His hands come to his head again. "I killed him. I hurt that kid. It should've been Thomas... I would've never... I didn't..."

"You talkin' about that kid in there?" You ask, casually putting your hands in your baggy pant pockets.

He finally looks at you. His eyes are bloodshot and he's pale. "You saw him?"

You pull your lips into a thin line, nodding. "You killed him?"

His jaw tenses, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't mean to- I really didn't mean to. I-I was stung, I lost control and I shot the wrong person."

"Lost control?"

"The Grievers! I tried to escape the Maze and I got stung and I shot Chuck and Minho speared me. I should be dead! I deserve it."

"If you weren't in control of yourself, then you can't really blame yourself."

Maybe you should be freaking out more. He's just confessed to killing a child. But WCKD is capable of things beyond human possibility, so controlling someone against their will isn't exactly groundbreaking nowadays.

You've seen people do terrible things to survive. You've done terrible things to survive. This is the last place he'll be judged. This place is full of blood and ghosts of corpses- that's just how the world is now.

The guilt never really goes away, so you sympathise.

He stares at you, blankly. He sniffs. "Who are you?"

You walk up to him, holding your arm out for him to shake. "(Y/N). I'll ask you again; you got a name?"

"Gally," he slowly takes your hand, giving you a weak shake.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Gally, I just wish it were under better circumstances. You reckon you're up to answering some of my questions, or do you need some more time to recover?"

"Can you answer my question first?"

You sigh. "You're safe here." You say bluntly. "I dragged your ass out of that WCKD facility. So, if you wanna blame someone for your mortality, you can shout at me for it later. We're a group of rebels outside the City - we try to help people that WCKD doesn't. The Right Arm has been MIA for years, so we're the best you've got, I'm afraid."

Gally has some of his memories back. He remembers the Flare, WCKD and rumors of the Right Arm. He's missing pieces, but has enough to understand what you're talking about.

"So, are you willing to talk? You'd much rather deal with me than my Boss- trust me."

He nods, clearing his throat. "What do you wanna know?"

Gally is surprisingly cooperative, probably because he's on a lot of painkillers and has a lot of fresh trauma. He tells you about the Maze, his memory loss, his friends and the monsters he faced.

Lawrence agreed to let you deal with this, but you know he's going to want to speak to him.

"Experimenting on kids?" Lawrence scoffs, throwing down your notes about what Gally said on the desk in front of him and sighing. "That's a new low, even for WCKD."

"You're telling me."

"What about the boy? You think he'll be useful?"

You shrug. "I don't know. He's well built and has a lot of potential. Used to be leader of the Builders or some shit- could be useful if we need to make this place bigger."

"Can he shoot?"

You hesitate. "Yep."

"Hm."

"We protect people that need it, Lawrence- he needs it more than most. He's also probably immune and we can get Bliss out of him."

Lawrence hesitates. "Okay, he can stay- but don't let your hero complex get the better of you. He's the same as everyone else here."

"You got it, Captain."

And with that word of warning, Gally kind of ends up under your wing. You show him around, give him a cluster of pillows and blankets to use as a bed if he's lucky enough to find an empty space on the floor, and actually teach him how to shoot (properly).

Gally is standoffish and rude- something you come to learn fairly quickly. He looks down on people who are sick or weak, and whilst he seems to care a lot about things, he's bitter and angry.

He also doesn't appreciate being cared for or looked after. He doesn't think he deserves it and he hates being pitied. But, he has little choice and it takes a while for him to accept that he doesn't have much choice.

And he's not used to the way the Flare affects people.

"Gally, stop staring."

"Gally, don't say that."

"Gally, they don't know what shank means- you're gonna get beat up."

"Gally put that down; it's Lawrence's."

He's definitely a problem child.

From the sounds of the Glade; Gally is completely out of his depth. The Glade was serene and peaceful, run under Alby, who was firm but understanding and everyone had a common goal and kept things smooth. Your den isn't like that.

It's bloodthirsty and cutthroat. Anyone with a reputation has it for reasons that you don't want to know, and Lawrence isn't scared to put a bullet in the head of anyone who pisses him off.

So, when Gally has a meeting with Lawrence after a month, your heart is in your throat.

"So, Gally, how are you finding it here?" Lawrence leans on his desk. His skeletal appearance and weak state means he rarely ventures out amongst the crowds, so Gally is visibly uncomfortable.

When he doesn't respond, you nudge him, nodding to answer his question.

"It's been... fine." You inwardly cringe as Lawrence stands up.

"Fine? We house you, let my best mentor you, and all you call our hospitality... fine?"

Gally looks to you for advice. "No, uh, it's good. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."

"That's more like it."

"Why did you want to see him, Bo-"

"I'm not talking to you, am I?" Lawrence cuts your off, immediately making you regress into yourself.

Something about it makes Gally's jaw tense. You're one of the few people that has consistently looked out for him- and you're the only girl he's ever actually befriended. So, that combined has led to him developing a small crush on you.

So, watching him demean you like that makes him furious.

"Why am I here?" Gally asks, and Lawrence snaps to look at him. "What? You wanted to talk to me about something."

Lawrence scoffs, offering a toothy smile. "I want you to join the patrols and search parties with (Y/N)." He tosses him a mask from his desk. It's a gas mask with a screen sheild- something everything one is expected to wear to keep roxins out of the system. Though, you suspect the tinted glass is to hide Gally's identity. He is a WCKD subject, after all. You, however, just tend to wear the bottom half of the mask on jobs.

You need to see more than the others.

"You're muscle and immune; we need both. Does that work for the both of you?"

You exchange glances before speaking in unison. "Yes, Boss."

And just like that, Gally has become an official member of your team.

He struggles with crowd work. Storming through the crowds of infected that often surround the City is dangerous work. More for you than him, since the Flare is an actual threat to you. But it's necessary work.

You have to give out food and Bliss; often using the time to trade information from the locals that reside there.

He can become aggressive and shoves a lot of people out of the way, but he mellows under your gaze. He wants to do what you think is right, and be better because you saved him.

He owes you.

He prefers the trips to the Scorch. He, however, does not like it when you actually find a Maze. He'd normally wait outside.

And had he been put on anyone else's team, he'd be forced to join. But you don't make him. You need him as mentally stable as possible- revisiting trauma is not the way to do that.

For the next five-ish months, that's how it is.

Until things get considerably worse.

They shut down the City. To everyone.

No one, not just the infected, can enter.

The outskirts of the City turned into full-blown riots. You and your men are up to their necks in discourse. More people are joining the edge of the City as the people realise they really are fucked.

Gally, who has become an actual decent soldier and person under your pressure, seems distracted on this particular day.

You're doing your usual rounds as best as you can, sitting armed on the top of trucks as one of Lawrence's men eggs on the rebellion through speakers.

"This is a shit show," you mumble as Gally stares off into the crowd. You can't see his expression, but his body is tense and he pays no mind to what you just said. "Gally?" You nudge him.

"What?"

"I said this is a shit show."

"Yeah," he sounds completely disinterested, "it is."

He's acting weird, but you're too deep into a riot, and there are WCKD drones circling.

"I know them," Gally says.

"What?"

He nods towards a group in the crowd as they're struggling to slip through the people. "I was in the Glade with them."

You blink at him. "What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's Thomas, Newt and Fry- I'd recognise them anywhere. We have to find them; they'll be dead out here." He turns, signalling some of the guys to follow him before he jumps off of the van.

"Wha- Gally!"

"Boss?" You turn to them, the men waiting your instructions.

You hesitate. "Do as he says- follow Gally's orders. I'll stay here."

They nod, also diving off the vehicle and vanishing into the crowd. You have to keep an eye on things here.

Which probably wasn't your best shout because a metallic groaning noise starts, and before you know it, missiles are being fired left and right at the crowds.

"Go! Go!" You scream, directing civilians, now also on the ground.

"Boss! We gotta go!"

"They're murdering innocent civilians!"

"We can't help them now! Come on!"

Running through the crowd, a sickening thought hits you. "Where's Gally? Hey, where's Gally?!"

"I don't know! We'll find him back at base!"

"Shit."

It's a mad rush back to camp, but you didn't expect to find what you do.

Gally is on the floor as you jump out of the van again, he's pinned to the floor by some dude you don't recognise as a blond boy tries to calm the situation.

"Oi!" You shout, jogging over and letting your mask fall around your face. "What the hell is going on here?!"

You men hold guns pointed at the boy. "Stand down! Now!" You grab the boy's jacket, yanking him up and away from Gally. "The fuck are you playing at? You tryna get shot?"

"It's fine," Gally groans as he sits up. "Kinda had that coming. Anyone else? Fry? Newt?"

"You know this guy?" An older gentleman asks, clearly lost.

"He was an old friend," (you're assuming) Frypan says.

"How?" Newt says. "How is this possible? We watched you die."

"No, you left me to die," Gally corrects. "And if we hadn't found you when we did, you'd be dead right now. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Minho," Newt simply says. "WCKD has him here. We're looking for a way in."

Gally looks at you, tilting his head slightly and pulling his lips into a thin line.

You sigh, knowing this means a lot to him. "We can help with that. Follow me."

"I'm not going anywhere with him," Thomas snaps.

"Suit yourself." Gally says.

"But we can get you through those walls," you add.

They all reluctantly start following as Gally briefly explains how he ended up here along with what your operation is.

He warns them about Lawrence, before taking them to talk to him.

"Hey," you grab his wrist, stopping him and he looks at you. "I'm gonna go check on our wounded, send a patrol car out to help those hurt at the scene."

"You're leaving?" His eyebrows furrow for a second. This'll be the first thing that Gally's done without you. He's never even spoken to Lawrence before without your reassuring presence.

Frypan looks at Newt, smirking slightly. They were close in the Glade, and it's obvious to Frypan that something has definitely changed in Gally. And he thinks that's to do with you.

"You seem to have things under control here; I have other men I need to worry about. I won't be long."

You turn to leave, but Gally stops you again. "Stay alive."

You grin at him. "I'll try my best. No promises, though."

You do what you say and return to the scene, helping everyone you can whilst Gally takes Thomas and Newt through the tunnels.

By the time you get back, you're exhausted and Gally is standing around a table with Brenda, Jorge and Frypan. Thomas and Newt have vanished.

You walk into the room, immediately gaining Gally's attention.

"Still kicking, then?"

"Told you I'd try my best," you put your hand on his shoulder as he looks over some scattered plans. "How've things been here? You got a plan?"

"Kinda. Thomas doesn't seem too happy with it, though."

"Bummer. Any other options?"

"Not really."

"He's gonna have to cope, then."

You slip away, moving into another room but shouting back. "I'm gonna get a drink, anyone want one?"

You get a couple of yes' and go on to provide.

"You never told us your girlfriend's name," Gally looks up at Frypan, who is sitting with his arms crossed, smirking.

Gally scoffs. "She's called (Y/N)- and she's not my girlfriend. She's my Boss."

"Ah, well, you always said you think you'd like powerful women." Gally glares at his friend, but struggles to repress the smile on his lips. "You've changed, shank."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Frypan smiles genuinely.

You come back in with a few glasses, immediately making them change the conversation. "Where are your friends?"

"They went outside to talk," Gally answers as you give him a glass. "Thanks."

"So," you casually put your hands in your pockets, "what's the plan then?"

You did not expect the plan to be kidnap.

It's awkward and stressful watching Teresa cut open the boys' necks and pulling out a thin bit of wire.

You're sticking with Lawrence in his attempt to breach the walls and Gally is going with the Gladers. You dislike this plan, but you think Gally is more than capable.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" The group is splitting up and Brenda and Jorge are saying their goodbyes too.

"We need to do this," Gally sighs.

"For a guy that tried to kill you?"

"He had every right to try and kill me."

You sigh, leaning back on a pillar.

"You gonna tell me not to go? Give me the order to stay?"

He sounds almost hopeful. You don't know when you started prioritising Gally over the others. Maybe it was because he became your responsibility but over time your feelings of protection became romantic.

You don't want him to leave. You don't want to split up and let him go into the lion's den, but you need to do this. And so does he.

It's obvious this is a way of him repenting for what he's done.

You shake your head. "No, we gotta do this. You'll be fine, just stay in contact."

He seems almost disappointed. "Yes, Boss."

They group set up to leave, and you anxiously tap your foot, knowing you should be leaving and preparing yourself.

Fuck it.

"Gally! Wait!" You jog over to him as he sorts out his WCKD uniform, just about to leave.

He looks at you as you rush to him, throwing your arms around him. He stumbles backwards, his hand coming to the small of your back.

Pulling away, you look at him and he looks at you. And, impulsively, you kiss him. He freezes momentarily, before pulling you closer and kissing you back.

"Stay alive." You mumble as you part.

He scoffs, smiling. "I'll try my best."

Another Gally piece for you guys. This might be one of those that requires a part 2 because I have too much to get through to be doing too many long pieces and I've just finished a three part story lol.

Let me know if you'd want that.

I hope you enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes tmr #🍃 petri tmr #🌿 petri tmr gally #tmr fanfiction #tmr imagines #the maze runner #tmr gally #gally tmr #gally imagine

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she left Windhaven

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst, mentions of death

summary: The unrest in Windhaven at Mallory's death reaches the ears of the High Lord and Valeria is forced to leave the place she called home for years.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection of imagines that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. This was originally supposed to be included in "The Night she made Azriel" dance, which was the next imagine, but the scenes here came out longer than I expected so I decided to split them into two different imagines.

**

The atmosphere in Windhaven had grown tense and uneasy as whispers of blame and resentment swirled through the camp. Valeria walked through the camp on the way to the lake her and Mallory would frequent with a heavy heart, bearing the weight of the rumors that had taken root. The people around her spoke in hushed voices but she could still hear them. She could hear them cast blame upon her for Mallory’s fate and she could feel their cold and judgemental gazes upon her.

It was rare for a female to volunteer for the blood rite. They were not given the same luxury of training as the Illyrian males and were at a devastating disadvantage. The camp needed someone to blame instead of their absurd gender norms and so they blamed Valeria. They believed that she had been the one to encourage Mallory to participate, some even going as far to claim she manipulated Mallory. She wasn’t surprised when Mallory’s family remained quiet yet took advantage of the camp’s condolences in the form of goods and special treatment. They didn’t bother to put a stop to the rumors. Valeria could see through their facade, their mourning was not genuine.

Valeria took deep breaths as the whispers continued, the harsh words cutting deeper than any blade. 

“She killed Mallory!”

“Clip her wings and teach her a lesson. I don’t give a fuck if she’s the High Lord’s daughter.”

“She’s a curse, that girl. It’s best we be rid of her before she comes for our daughters next.”

Her fists curled at her sides as she kept her gaze down. The injustice of their words burned within her, but she knew that refuting their claims would only fan the flames. Relief washed over her when she finally made it to the lake, away from the camp’s accusations.

Noctis hummed, nuzzling his head against her neck to offer some comfort. It had been a week since the blood rite ended and every day, despite the hurtful accusations, she would make her way to the lake. Most of the ice had melted, leaving only patches of ice to float on top but Valeria still found comfort in it.

Nestled on the soft grass, her gaze fixed on the tranquil expanse of the water, its surface rippling like liquid silk and reflecting the sky above in calming blue hues. She would sit there for hours, as the world faded into a distance murmur with the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. She would usually stay until the sun began to set or one of the guys would come get her, whichever came first.

As she sat by the lake with Noctis on her shoulder, she felt familiar talons cross her mind. She decided to let them in, her brother’s urgent voice piercing through. You need to come home. Now. Please.

**

Windhaven’s whispered rumors had found their way to the High Lord’s ears. Valeria’s eyes widened when her gaze locked with her father’s. His face was a mask of anger and disappointment and it was all directed at her. A tight knot formed in her throat.

“You.” He said with a pointed finger toward her, his voice seething with frustration. “I’ve heard what you did.”

Valeria lips pressed into a tight line, uncertainty clouding her features. She was unsure of the specific allegations against her. She wanted to call out to Rhysand’s mind and seek guidance but fear held her back. She mustered all her strength to keep her mental shields high but to also hold her father’s gaze without flinching. She decided to remain quiet.

“You’re not even trying to deny it.” Her father said with an exasperated huff. “You pushed Mallory into the blood rite, didn’t you?”

Valeria stared at her father, her eyes wide and brimming with disbelief. She couldn’t help the small measure of relief she felt that her father still remained unaware of her Valkyrie endeavors. "Father, I didn't—"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand, his words cutting like a whip. "I allowed you to stay in Windhaven because of your mother”—he points to where her mother’s tense body stands, a couple of feet behind her husband. Her gaze wary and flickering between her husband and daughter—“asked. You only had one request—to not impede on Windhaven and what did you do? You caused a devastating loss to a family and dared to wreak havoc on a camp that has been struggling to maintain peace!”

Tears welled up in Valeria's eyes, her voice quivering as she tried to defend herself. "No, Father, you have it all wrong—“

“I will hear no excuses from you!” Her father sharply interrupted with a raise of his hand.

“My High Lord,” Her mother began, her voice desperate.

But everything happened quickly. He raised his hand and Noctis, who had been watching the situation unfold with caution, flew from her shoulder and toward the High Lord. His beak poked at his hand in a desperate defense to keep Valeria safe and in a fit of rage, the High Lord directed his anger at Valeria toward the bird. With a painful squeak, the bird was sent flying to the ground.

“Noctis!” Valeria cried as she dove toward him. She fell to her knees and crawled toward the unresponsive bird but just as he was within her grasp, two heavy black boots came into her vision, threatening to step on her if necessary. Her father was standing between her and Noctis, looking down at her with a burning gaze.

“Father—“ Now, it was Rhysand who tried to reason with his father.

The High Lord's expression remained stern and unforgiving as he interrupted Rhysand. "The camp is in chaos, Valeria. Your actions have caused turmoil among our people. You must bear the responsibility for your influence."

Valeria's heart ached, both from the unjust accusations and her father's disapproval. She had always yearned to be a source of pride for him, to prove her worth as his daughter. Yet, now, she found herself far from that.

“You’re coming back with me.” The High Lord declared.

And before anyone could protest, he roughly grabbed a hold of her arm and winnowed them back to the Court of Nightmares.

**

Noctis is okay, came Rhysand’s gentle assurance, hours after she found herself back in the moonstone palace. A little bit bruised but he will heal.

Valeria felt like she could finally breathe. She had been pacing back and forth in her room at the Moonstone palace, biting her fingernails in anxiety over her dear bird. He had flown to her defense and was met with her father’s wrath. She did not have it in her to lose another loved one.

Allowing the news to settle upon her, Valeria collapsed onto her bed with a heavy sigh. Her gaze drifted upward, fixing on the meticulously placed cut-out stars and twinkling fairy lights that she had arranged on the canopy of her four-poster bed when she was young. They blinked back at her, a constellation of memories and nostalgia.

She hadn’t spent more than a fleeting moment in this room in months, perhaps even years. Though the Moonstone palace was undeniably enchanting, her heart had always preferred the House of the Wind. Namely because it had been her refuge from her father’s presence.

But for now, she was left with no choice but to coexist under the same roof as her father. All due to circumstances beyond her control. She already found herself missing her home in Windhaven. Her mother, her brother, Azriel, Cassian, Noctis and even Azriel’s shadows who at times, were an entity of their own.

Valeria lay on her bed, lost in her thoughts. Minutes and then hours passed by and before she knew it, the darkness of sleep enveloped her. Her eyes darted beneath her eyelids as she plunged into a restless sleep. In the depths of her mind, a haunting dream took hold of her…

Valeria walked through Windhaven where the hushed whispers had turned into shouting and cursing and torches chasing after her with malicious intent. Noctis, her once loving and protective bird, was among the angry crowd. He soared above Valeria in a taunting manner, diving down to strike at her and draw blood. Noctis was angry at her. Angry for not protecting him as he had valiantly done for her.  Valeria let out a cry as she threw her hands over her face and continued to run at an agonizingly slow pace

She found herself finally reaching the lake, her knees giving out and falling onto the cold hard ground. Noctis and the yelling had ceased but she was met with a new horror.

The lake that had brought her so much joy and peace now lay in silent desolation, a haunting expanse of water stretching into the distance. The water, inky and opaque, resembled a mirror reflecting nothing but an settling grayish hue. A heavy silence hung over the desolate landscape, its eerie stillness broken only by the occasional whisper of a ghostly breeze.

Skeletal trees stood like sentinels along the shoreline, their bare branches clawing at the ashen sky, their shadows casting elongated, grotesque figures on the barren ground. The land surrounding the lake was cracked and parched, as though it had not seen life at all.

“Mallory!” Valeria called out desperately, her voice echoing through the lifeless trees but there was no response. “Mallory!”

With a sudden roar, a figure emerged from the lifeless water.

“Mallory,” Valeria whispered in relief as she struggled to get back up to her feet. Once she did, she ran toward the water, stumbling into its bone chilling embrace. 

  “You.” Mallory’s voice seethed in the same tone her father had used on her earlier. She pointed a finger at Valeria, making her freeze, as she rose and rose until she floated above the water, towering over Valeria. “You did this to me.”

“No,” Valeria cried, shaking her head.

“You bring harm to those that dare to love you.” Mallory’s voice was harsh and cold as the water around her. “First your mother, then me and now Noctis.”

“You’re a curse.”

Mallory’s eyes darkened. She outstretched both hands, beckoning the water behind her to rise in a daunting wave and with a sickening smirk, she sent that wave crashing over Valeria. Her head was immediately underwater and Valeria struggled to resurface and then she was drowning. Drowning in her sorrow, her grief–

Valeria jolted awake with her heart pounding and gasping for air. It was just a nightmare, she told herself and she felt a strange reassuring tug after the thought. But the pain in her chest lingered.

She settled herself back onto her bed, staring up at the stars and fairy lights again. She yearned for sleep but feared the nightmare that would come. She tossed and turned for hours, unable to find sleep. 

That same nightmare continued to haunt her. 

It had been days since Valeria was forced to return to the Moonstone palace. Her mother had joined her the morning after. She hadn’t brought Noctis with her as she had hoped for. Upon her worry, her mother reassured her that Noctis was alright. She explained he needed more time to properly heal and was being doted on by three strong and loving Illyrians. Valeria was grateful for the reassurance and for her mother’s presence. But it did nothing to soothe her nightmares or the thought that Noctis was angry with her–angry for leaving him when he needed her the most. 

With a heavy sigh, Valeria decided to go visit the gardens. Her room was beginning to feel like a prison of worry and grief.

She slipped into the cool night air, rejoicing in the soft splashing of the grand water fountain and the soft humming of the light bugs that twinkled around the garden as if they were tiny stars themselves. The fresh breeze rustled her hair, and she looked up at the starry sky, seeking comfort in the endless expanse of space.

As she gazed up, Valeria's eyes were heavy. Dark bags had formed beneath them from lack of sleep the past couple of days. Her head perked up at the sound of footsteps, senses on high alert. She recognized the soft, familiar steps of her mother’s and allowed herself to relax as her mother’s gentle presence drew near. Her mother’s arms enveloped her in a warm, comforting embrace.

“Will it ever get better?”

“Of course it will.” Her mother gently reassured.

“One day, the days will not seem so heavy,” her mother began, her voice warm and soothing. “The nights will not be as dark. The moon and stars will continue to watch over you.”

Valeria leaned into her mother's embrace and her mother held her tighter. “You are doing a wonderful job just by being here today.”

**

A/N: the words Lady Yvaine says were heavily inspired by this tiktok I saw. I can't find the exact one anymore but the user is @/scribbells on tiktok and she makes cute illustrations of the moon and stars with inspiring quotes. I recommend checking it out, if you have tiktok.

also, that strange reassuring tug Valeria felt after her nightmare came from Azriel through their bond hehe. sorry there wasn't much of the batboys in this one but I wanted to write about Val's fears and nightmares over losing her friend.

tag list: @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

#azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar imagine #rhysand's sister #azriel imagine #acosm

[larsthefishoil]

TMNT HEADCANON:

Sometimes I think about how the English and Japanese language fit into the tmnt story together. And like, yeah, I know that language barriers have never been a thing before in any of the shows really but like- hear me out

I don't think 2012 Hamto Yoshi would have taught his sons too much English. I mean, on our side of the tv screen, it would be annoying to have to walk around a barrier such as that, even when they make sense for what is set up. I've seen enough Star Trek to know that even though I find them interesting, language barriers are the last thing people want to deal with in writing and watching tv.

But I think the 12 Splinter is very passionate about teaching his sons about his culture as much as he can, and with the severed access to the human world of New York above them, all they had was what Splinter would teach them. I think they would pick up bits and pieces of English. Leo had Space Heros running for the 5000th time before they even went up to the surface for the first time. So my current headcanon is that the turtles were fluent in a very traditional form of Japanese and had whatever understanding of English they could find and teach eachother (maybe Splinter too idk) came from music, tv shows, and the like.

Then over to rise, Hamato uses language like how mexican people use Spanglish in parts of the US. There aren't any badgering parents to scold him for his sentence structure, or judgmental white people glaring at him for using a language from the East. Just him, his sons, and whatever tv shows and books that are lying around the layer. So Splinter curses in Japanese slang when he burns his tongue on tea, and panics when Mikey appears behind him and chirpilly repeats the phrase. And laughs proud and happy when his sons slowly grasp the fusion of languages he utters with swooping Os and Us at the end of sayings and hissey little spits when they speak dramatically, flipping between the two.

And if those two worlds were to ever collide, the chaos would already be up to eleven. But when 12 Raph goes on a rant, he slips into the tongue that never truly left the roots of his mind. It's formal, and beautifully used, even though he's debating pineapples on pizza with the conviction to fuel a volcano. Rise Donnie barks out stiff, but genuine laughter like he does when he mocks a brother. He points and wheezes before inhaling dramatically and falling back in his chair aggressively enough to slam into the ground, laughter contined mostly by his own antics now.

"Ugh," Splinter shudders as he enters his kitchen to find his purple son and the short, angry red. "Sounds just like those textbooks from middle school... It sounds very good though." He pauses not knowing what to say his son that was not really his son, so he settled for, "Now shoo, I wish to make some tea in peace, I've been seeing doubles of you four all day." He chuckles at his own joke as the two pad out of the kitchen already barking back at one another about pineapples on pizza once again just for the sake of an argument.

Lol this really got away from me.

And I didn't even get to bring April and Casey into the discussion :/

Uh yeah, thoughts? Opinions?

#rottmnt #2012 tmnt #tmnt crossover #rambles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #language is really cool #ask me if you guys are intrested in hcs for how april fits in to this stuff #tmnt language au