#don't let the dead ducks bite!

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Team Building

TW: Kidnapping

"Remember, bag on, hands zipped and go. Zero hesitation. If we take a split second too long, he'll get away."

"Affirmative."

"Shhh... he's coming."

The men grab you, neutralizing you before you can even get a glimpse of who they are. Your kicks hit well, but there are too many of them. They toss you into something soft, putting more on top of you before wheeling you away. A laundry bin full of sheets you realize. You'd seen it next to the Captain's door you were told to report to today.

The next thing you know, you're dumped into a trunk, sheets, and all. The trunk slams shut, taking the little light you could see through the fabric bag with it. You hear the vehicle start up and music blast at a ridiculously high level. Working your wrists, you fight to break loose for a few moments before realizing that is a dead end, recognizing the feel of the cuffs as the ones you have used on much bigger and stronger men. You shift to removing your hood. If you can see around you, maybe you can find a weakness. You have the hood about half off when the vehicle comes to a stop and turns off. Freezing, you hope they don't open the trunk and see you trying to escape. Your luck holds, and you hear multiple pairs of footsteps walking away, laughing and joking.

Hood sliding off, you check around you, rolling over to see the back of the seats as well. Luck is with you, and you see there is a small access hatch through the back seat. You turn slightly and kick it hard several times before it breaks loose. You shove your feet through and use your legs to pull you through in small sections. You duck down, listening hard for voices, and hear several to the left of the car. Sliding slowly to the right, you position yourself carefully. You pull the handle on the door, barely unlatching it and take several deep breaths. Shoving it open, you break into a dead sprint, running for the nearby treeline. Voices sound off almost immediately behind you, sounding surprised and confused.

You reach the trees, hearing footsteps gaining on you quickly. You don't chance a look back, worried about tripping over a root. Your feet are nimble, and you manage to stay ahead, blood pounding in your ears and lungs gasping for every bit of oxygen they can get.

Your downfall quite literally is a stream. Your foot slips, rolling the ankle as you go to jump, falling short of the other side in pain. A man grabs you from behind, picking you up far more gently than you would have expected. You fight to break free, but he angles you out, so you can't kick him easily. In frustration, you turn your head and bite his face. He drops you in shock, and you land in the rocks alongside the stream. You sit up, trying to get your feet under you and ignoring the gash on your face.

When you look up, you see you're surrounded by men. You start laughing in frustration and embarrassment when you see their uniforms and patches. They all look on nervously. One steps forward, a mohawk on his head.

"We're so sorry! We thought you were-"

"Captain Price? That is who I was supposed to be meeting."

"Yeah, sorry, doll. That must have been terrifying. Let us untie you, and we will get you back to the medics."

"No need. I'm a medic. Your medic, in fact." You feel your hands freed and pull them forward, inspecting the wounds there. "Did you grab my bag when you dumped me in the laundry?" At their headshake, you curse quietly. You turn toward the man that you bit. "Sorry, mate. Normally, I reserve my biting for people I know well." You wink as you try to stand up, the rolled ankle trying to buckle.

Ghost, you recognize him by his mask, chuckles. "Well, I hope I don't get to know you too well then. Gonna have a scar for sure." He winks at you, blood slowly staining his uniform, dripping down from the balaclava he is wearing.

You take a step gingerly and force your ankle to work, but the men notice all the same. "Here, I'll carry ye back, Stoater. Least I can dae for ye. I'm Soap, by the by. Ghost is behind ye, Gaz is there and over yonder, the pasty one is Roach." Each man waves shyly as they are named, and you nod back. Soap scoops you up and begins the trek back out of the forest. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting jostled too much.

"So, who do I owe for repairs on the car? 'Fraid I may have done a bit of damage to it, gettin' out." You're a bit sheepish about the whole thing now that your adrenaline isn't pumping.

"Nothing and no one. It's a junker. We expected the Captain to do much the same, honestly. Just didn't expect our hostage not to recognize us and take off into the woods." Gaz sounds almost annoyed, but you think it is with them and not you.

Roach pipes up, "You're fast. Never seen anyone outrun Ghost."

"I was catching up. Though it woulda been a lot longer if you hadn't fallen."

"Spent more time in the woods than in school as a kid, so doin' a runner through the forest comes natural. If it had been open field, you would have caught me before I got another hundred feet." You fall into a comfortable silence the rest of the way, though you think it is likely less comfortable for them as they contemplate what comes next.

Reaching the car, Soap sets you down on the trunk instead of in it this time. You see an old truck parked nearby, otherwise the lot is empty. Ghost walks over to the truck and drags out a large first aid kit from behind the seat. He sets it next to you, giving you free range over it. You grab his arm and tug him between your legs, locking them around his waist.

"I have heard your reputation for fighting off medics, Ghost. I'll have none of that. Mask off or at least out of the way." You dig out some supplies as he grumbles and pulls the mask up to reveal a perfect set of teeth marks in his cheek. You wince and set to work, carefully cleaning and bandaging it. "You will need antibiotics. I've got a dirty mouth, after all." You wink at him as you press a plaster over it gently, letting him go.

Ghost takes a long moment to move away, watching you closely as he tugs down his mask. Your attention has already shifted to your own wounds, and you slide off the trunk onto your good leg. You hop your way to the front of the car and use the mirror to inspect the damage to your face. The cut is across the cheekbone on the same side as Ghost's bite wound.

"Yer twins, aye?" Soap jokes as he looks between you and Ghost. Your twin rolls his eyes as you laugh and nod in agreement. Soap gestures for you to get in once you are done, moving to the driver seat. Ghost lopes to his truck while the other two pile in the back seat.

"Nobody rides with Ghost?" You ask, curious if he is possessive of his vehicle.

"Nae, he drives like a weapon. Not worth the risk to life and limb." The chuckles from the backseat clue you in that this is a long-standing argument.

Back at base, the men walk you to Captain Price's office. He is pacing the room when you enter, supported by Soap. The others hover near the door, and you salute the Captain. "Medic reporting for assignment, sir." His eyes widen as he looks you over, then narrow on his men.

"What the fuck happened to her?" You feel Soap open his mouth, but before he can say a word, you chime in.

"Team building exercise, sir." You look him in the eyes with an almost bored expression. He hides his shock well at the boldfaced lie.

"Bullshit. None of these fucks got hurt."

"I tripped over my own feet," you chuckle. "But me n Ghost are twins, see?" You jab your thumb back at him, forgetting that his mask hides the bandage, but the bloodstain is evident. The Captain does not seem mollified by any of this, but he drops the issue.

"Yes, well. Sit, and we will go over your responsibilities here for the team, which do not include lying for them." You sit, and he promptly shoos them out. "So, they kidnapped you and dunked you in a stream to build comraderie. Do you want a transfer off the team?" He is short and to the point.

"No. I'm perfectly fine working with them." He nods and moves on to welcoming you on board.

"We're glad to have you, then."

When you walk out, braced on Captain Price's arm, Ghost is there waiting. He waves the Captain off, taking your weight easily. "To the med bay, Luv. We need to get you mobile."

Captain Price watches the two of you leave with a smirk, team building indeed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On Your Six

Warnings: dark elements, stalking, violence.

Another sidequest complete (...or maybe you want more of this one? Let me know your thoughts!)

You have a second shadow. You're not alone. While your pursuer has given themself away, you're in no rush to do the same.

You keep going, slinking from pillar to pillar, balancing your target with whoever seems to have made you one. You keep your back to the wall as you grip your pistol, one ear listening ahead of you, the other behind you. You dip back into a pool of darkness and shuffle your foot to make it sound like you're running, let the noise peter off as you wait

A figure smoothly turns the corner and you stand unseen in the alcove. Shit, you know that goddamn strut. Even when he's trying to be covert, he's a dead giveaway.

What the hell is Hansen doing here? This isn't his kind of job. Unless you're his assignment.

You watch him creep past. He slows as he listens to the silence, stopping completely. You raise the barrel of your gun towards him as you tiptoe out from behind the pillar. He hisses into a cackle, raising his hands.

“Take it easy, toots,” he faces you slowly, “we're not enemies here.”

“Aren't we?” You approach with your hand steadied against your forearm.

“I'm just watching your six. Like a nice guy does.”

“Hansen,” you walk to him until you have the barrel to his back, “what the hell are you doing here? I'm not splitting the fee and I have no problem wasting a bullet in your ass.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty,” he gives a dramatic shiver, unfazed by the gun between his shoulder blades.

“This isn't an open bounty,” you snarl.

“Toots, if you're not gonna use that thing, put it away,” he turns to face you slowly, “at least, that's what I've always been told.”

You shake your head and scoff, lowering the gun halfway. You sneer at him in the darkness and huff, “why are you getting in my way? Again.”

“Again? What– are you talking about San Paolo? I'm flattered you remember–”

“I nearly lost an eye.”

“Really? You're looking good, toots–”

You close your eyes and exhale through your nose, “I don't have time for this.”

You sidestep him and continue down the pillared walkway. You keep along the wall and stop as you sense him following once more. You pull back and holster your gun, just as swiftly slipping free your knife. You spin to bring it just along Hansen’s throat.

“I'll tell you one last time,” you hiss.

“I'm helping–”

“I told you, you're not getting a cent.”

“Trust me, honey, the view is worth it–”

“You are–”

“Deranged. Devoted. A total bottom.”

You bite down another snipe as the stone pillar beside you cracks and powder puffs in the air. Fuck. You dip into the shadows as Hansen shoulders past and raises his gun. Two shots before he crams into the alcove next to you

“Really?” You sneer.

“Tight fit, babe, but always figured it would be,” he chortles as he squints into the darkness. “Think I got th–”

Another shot silences him. You wonder if he's hit but don't really care. You duck down and switch out your blade for your fun. You creep along, listening to the approach of those that pest has drawn in.

You weave in and out of shadows, zeroed in on the echoing footsteps. The first silhouette falls before your silenced shot, the second doesn't notice his comrades collapse until it's too late and he joins him on the stone. The third you don't spend the bullet and use the but of your gun against the back of his skull.

You hear a scuff and raise your gun. Hansen waves and pants as he appears once more.

“Got one,” he puffs proudly, “damn, look at that.” He marvels at the bodies heaped around your feet, “you work fast, baby.. I'm more the type to take it slow.”

“Ugh,” you scowl and turn away.

As you do, you hear Hansen barrel towards you. It's too late for you to get your aim. You dodge as best you can as the rifle levels across from you only to be bowled over from behind.

You hit the ground as a shot fires and Hansen grunts. He fires back and the man lands on the rifle with a rattling gasp.

Hansen hisses and drops to one knee, grasping his side as he wheezes. You sit up, check your gun, and stand. He should've stayed away.

You flinch as suddenly a loud thrum cuts the night air. Fuck. You look above as the helicopter rotor whirls loudly. You harumph and kick a body near your feet.

“Fuck.”

“Don't worry, baby, I can take you on a nice vacation, you don't need the bounty,” he sucks in air and stands, “I got you.”

You look at him and scoff. You sneer and bring your gun up, aiming at his ass as you fire. He yelps and falls back down, grasping his rear. You shake your head and mutter.

“Fucker.”

You spin and walk back the way you came. Dimwit better get the hint. Next time you'll aim higher.

“See ya soon, toots,” he calls after you in a strained grit, “probably in my dreams.”

[jflemings]

— let the light in [p3]

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 1, part 2

synopsis: you finally let the light in

warnings: depression, talks of suicide, self sabotage if you squint, feelings of shame

as soon as casey gets in her car, jessie runs back into her flat and grabs her keys and phone. she’s got one shoe on and is halfway out the door when she stops herself and turns around, walking towards the shelf next to her couch. she fingers through the small maple leaf trinket tray until she finds the spare key she had forgotten to give back to you, gripping in tightly in her hand as she slips her other shoe on and walks out the door.

she parks her car on the curb and shields her face from the rain that had started on her drive over, cursing herself for wearing a pair of black canada football shorts when a particularly cold gust of wind flows through her.

jessie walks into your building shivering and clutching your spare key in her right hand. she can feel the teeth on the key digging into her palm as she steps into the elevator and presses the button to your floor. shockwaves of nerves hit her almost rhythmically and she has to wipe her sweaty palms on her jumper.

the elevator door opens and in steps shelley, the old woman pushing her glasses up her nose “jessie!” she exclaims before frowning “you coming to see y/n?”

the canadian half shrugs “hopefully”

shelley smiles and pats jessie’s shoulder “it’s good that you’re here” she says as the elevator moves again, stopping at your floor “she needs ya”

all she can do is swallow the lump in her throat and nod once, walking up to your door and knocking twice. she doesn’t get a response, like she knew she wouldn’t, so she knocks again. and again. and again just the way you hate it so hopefully you get out of bed and answer her.

the door cracks slightly and half of your face peers out “jessie you need to leave” you croak.

“no.” she argues much to your surprise “i talked to casey”

she hears you curse under your breath and places a hand on your door “y/n please” she manages to get out before you go to slam the door in her face. she quickly slots her foot in the door and presses harder “you don’t have to let me in, fuck, you don’t even have to talk to me but at least call and let her know you’re not dead” she says harshly, her eyebrows furrowing when you don’t say anything. “your boss was going to call the police to do a welfare check. casey sent me instead”

“i’m fine”

jessie pushes against the door harder, her foot still slotted between the doorframe and the threshold of you apartment "please" she pleads "all I want to do is help you. that's it"

tears well in your eyes at the thought of jessie seeing the state your apartment is in right now. you look behind you pathetically before shaking your head 'jess-"

"it's okay" she cuts you off quietly "you don't have to feel ashamed about it"

you wipe stray tears with the back of your hand "it's really bad" you mumble "I haven't, uhm, been taking very good care of myself"

the canadian pushes the door a little bit more seeing that you've begun to take your weight off it. her face softens "I'm not here to judge you or to make you feel bad for what you're going through. I just wanna help you get back on your feet"

biting your lip, you finally give in. you hang your head in shame as you let jessie slowly push your front door open and into your mess of an apartment. dread overwhelms you when she doesn’t say anything and just looks around, her eyes scanning each nook and cranny of your space before landing back on you.

you can’t — won’t — look her in the eye, choosing to instead pick at your cuticles as you continue to hold the door open. your grip on the handle tightens until your knuckles are white and you can feel more tears begin to stream down your face.

her hand cradles your face and she wipes her thumb under your eye “look at me” she coaxes, ducking her head ever so slightly “you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

you lip quivers as you nod and she removes her hand from your face, returning them to her sides. you push the door close and lean against it watching she jessie’s hands flex at her side. the two of you stand opposite eachother for a few moments before she reaches for you and you fall into her arms sobbing.

“i-i’m so sorry”

jessie’s hand runs up and down your back “i told you—”

“no i’m sorry for not telling you. i’m sorry for shutting you out” you cry as she places a hand on top of your head “i thought i was doing what was best for you”

jessie stays quiet as sobs wrack your body, tears begin to form in her own eyes at the thought of you putting her first when you were the one that needed help. she was angry, so angry, with herself for letting you do that. for letting you walk out of her apartment that day.

you grip the back of her jumper tightly “i wanted to push you away before… before you realised that i was too hard to love”

“never” jessie says confidently and sternly, pulling you out of her shoulder so she can look at you “never. you are never too hard to love”

“you haven’t seen the worst of it jessie. i don’t eat, i either sleep all day or not at all, my place is a fucking pigsty and i barely have the energy to shower!” you push her hands off frustratedly “does that sound like someone who’s easy to love”

“it sounds like someone who needs some love” she says softly.

you pause and the tension eases from your face. your fingers twitch where they’re holding jessie’s wrist and you look up at your ceiling, blinking away tears.

she takes your hands in her own “c’mon, i’ll run you a hot bath”

you let jessie lead you to your ensuite and cringe at the state of your room but she doesn’t even spare the mess a glance. instead she turns on the bath, finds you a clean towel and some clean clothes and urges you to get in. you get undressed slowly, suddenly feeling very exposed as she grabs the shampoo and conditioner out of your shower.

the water is steaming when you get in and you immediately relax at the comforting feeling. sighing, you duck your head under the water and resurface to find jessie sitting on the ground, one arm leaning on the bath. you turn the tap off once you’re sure the bath is full enough.

“do you want me to wash your hair?”

“yes please”

jessie gets you to turn around and lathers shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp and dragging the remaining shampoo down to your ends. she then gets you to duck your hair back under the water as she sits up on her knees, looming over you so she can rinse it all out. next, the canadian grabs a comb from under your sink and applies a generous amount of conditioner to your hair, rubbing it in and beginning to gently detangle the knots.

for the most part the room is silent except for the sound the water makes when you move. you close your eyes and allow yourself to be enveloped in the feeling of jessie’s hands running through your hair once again “jess”

jessie hums from behind you, the comb still threading through your ends.

“you- uhm, you saved my life. when we met”

jessie stops momentarily to look over your shoulder at you “what do you mean?”

“i was only at the coffee shop because my machine broke that morning” you sigh, suddenly afraid that you shouldn’t be telling her this. “i had been giving away my stuff for weeks beforehand because i picked out a day to… to end my life”

the canadian stops combing through your hair and you hear the piece of plastic be placed onto the tiles. jessie tucks your wet hair behind your ear and slightly pushes your shoulders so you turn to face her. you cover yourself by bringing your knees to your chest as she leans on the edge of the bath again, urging you to continue.

“i had a note written and the things i had left were organised for when my apartment was going to be cleared out. i had planned to go back to home and take my own life, but then you invited me to sit down and we talked, and you said that you wanted to see me again.” you cock your head, your voice shaky as you continue “and i never told you, swore that i never would, because that’s a lot of responsibility to have, to be the reason that someone didn’t kill themselves and to be honest i don’t even know why i’m telling you this because it’s nothing you actually need to know an—”

“y/n” jessie cuts off your face paced, run-on rambling softly, putting her hand on your knee “breathe”

you take a few deep breaths “i’m sorry. that’s a lot”

“not for me” she whispers “it’s never a lot for me”

“please stop saying never” you whisper breathlessly “that’s a big thing to say”

“i don’t care” she tells you “i’m being honest with you. you have never been to hard to love, or too much. you are the easiest person to love, and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you” she pauses to stroke your cheek “except help plan your funeral” she says sadly, swiping under your eyes again “please don’t make me do that for you.”

you nod and hold onto her hand that’s resting on your cheek “i won’t”

jessie places a firm kiss on your forehead and then stands “if you need me i’ll be right outside, okay? i’m gonna shut the door to give you some privacy but just call if you need anything”

“okay” you mumble as she smiles and shuts the door, leaving you to make ripples in the water.

as soon as jessie shuts the bathroom door she’s opening your curtains and stripping your bed. she pulls off the covers and pillow cases and then picks up all the clothes off your floor, stuffing them into the duvet cover before throwing it onto your stopped bed. she takes all the dirty dishes out to the kitchen, setting them down before looking under the sink for your cleaning supplies. retreating back to your bedroom, she makes quick work of wiping down all the surfaces and putting things back where she knows they belong. she sprays, wipes and dusts everything in her sight, not once slowing down.

part of her thinks she’s going so fast because she’s so angry at the world. she’s angry because you are the best person she’s ever met, the love of her life, and the world has let you feel as though you were nothing. the midfielder doesn’t let up her cleaning as she grabs all the rubbish that’s accumulated in your bin, throwing it in a plastic bag near by.

she takes the rubbish out to the kitchen and the duvet of dirty laundry into your small laundry closet before grabbing you some fresh sheets. she makes your bed and fluffs your pillows, only satisfied when it looks perfect. jessie vacuums every inch of floor in your room until she is satisfied, nodding her head once before moving out to the kitchen and living room.

she sets the vacuum aside and loads your dishwasher up, choosing to hand wash whatever dishes don’t fit. anything she can’t scrub clean gets chucked out and she reminds herself to take you shopping to replace it. she fills up another trash bag full of rubbish before she completely unloads your fridge and wipes it down so the lingering smell of off food wont hit you when you open it. when she realises just how much food she’s had to throw out, she pulls out her phone and opens her notes app to start a checklist of things she has to do.

☐ buy new plates

☐ go grocery shopping

☐ new bed sheets

satisfied with her list for the moment, she pockets her phone and moves to the pantry, turning to get retrieve her cleaning cloth when she sees you standing in the hallway. you’re dressed in her chelsea jumper from last season and a pair of black cotton shorts, your damp hair tucked behind your ears as you stare at her wide eyed.

“jessie”

the canadian shakes her head “i told you, i’m here to help. let me help”

“you don’t have to though” you attempt to reason with her, your eyes darting around your suddenly clean kitchen.

jessie rounds the kitchen island to you and grabs your elbow “i want to”

“thank you” you kiss her cheek “i’ll do the pantry”

jessie nods as you open the doors and grab a rubbish bag, cringing as you check the expiry dates on things before tossing them. she grabs the vacuum and does the kitchen floor before doing the rug in your living room, picking up things as she goes and putting them in her rightful place.

she can’t help but spare glances at you as she does. the sight of you clean and up and moving makes her smile slightly knowing that you haven’t been. your cheeks are tear stained and you sniffle every so often, but you continue to clean. you put away the dishes that aren’t in the dishwasher and you throw dirty kitchen towels aside to be washed, you spray and wipe down the benches before tossing another half full bag of rubbish on the pile that’s accumulating by the door.

jessie stops vacuuming in favour of dusting. she does the coffee table, the tv cabinet and the windowsill before moving over to your bookshelf. the trinkets that litter it get cleaned delicately, each and every one not getting put back onto the shelf until jessie is sure they’re free of dust.

she smiles at the things that she got you still being displayed. a picture of the two of you at christmas, a ceramic koala she got you during the world cup, a snow globe that she got from a gift shop in toronto, your polaroid camera and the photo you took of her when you first got it. little items that all played a part in your relationship, each one holding a little story that made up your big one.

the spare key she still hasn’t given back burns a hole in her pocket and she’s suddenly reminded of the fact that the two of you are in fact not together.

a frown flashes across her face before you walk over to her. you tilt your head and adjust the position of the koala slightly before grazing your fingers over the books on your shelf. jessie fishes out the key from her pocket and hands it to you “i forgot to give you this when—” she interrupts herself “before.”

you look between her and the key that she’s trying to give back to you. you pause for a moment before clasping her hand around it “keep it”

“i didn’t come here to try to pressure you into getting back with me” jessie tries to tell you.

“i know but i want you to keep it. it’s yours”

jessie’s heart flutters as she puts the key back in her pocket. you nod you head to the couch and sit down, patting the spot beside you wordlessly. jessie sits next to you and you lace your fingers together.

“it’s hard jess, loving someone with mental illness. it can be really draining” you explain softly “wherever we go from here, that’s up to you. i’m going to have bad days, and sometimes i’m going to get so far in my own head that i can’t pull myself back out” you squeeze her hand and your eyes soften the way they do when you look at jessie.

“i know” she tells you, wearing an identical look to yours “but i’m not fucking around. you are the easiest person to love, and i am more than willing to do it for the rest of my life”

“that’s not something to say lightly jess”

“i know. i’m just being honest” she shrugs slightly “please”

you purse your lips to suppress a smile “okay”

jessie’s face splits into a grin and she kisses your cheek quickly, watching you drown as you roll your eyes and grasp the side of her face. your thumb stokes her cheekbone as you kiss her softly and slowly. it reminds her of the first time you kissed, you saw how nervous she was when dropping you home after your third date and you rolled your eyes and leant over her centre console, grasping her cheek and pausing before letting your lips meet her own softly.

she had gone to bed giddy that night, the butterflies not subsiding even when she went to training the next day.

similarly to then, butterflies erupt in her stomach and flutter all through her insides. “i want you to tell me when you feel like this, even if you think you’ve got it handled. it doesn’t matter if you think it’s too much, all i ask is that you don’t bottle it up”

“i’m going to start seeing my therapist again”

“and that’s good, but i don’t want you walking around thinking you have to do it on your own because you don’t. you’ve never had to” she squeezes your hand and you squeeze hers back just as tight.

“okay” you nod “i promise”

jessie smiles and kisses you again.

“c’mon” you say before standing “the rubbish needs to be put out and then i need to find something that can be eaten for dinner”

“we’ll order in. thai sound good to you?”

your eyes soften “thai sounds great”

[cosmal]

hey! i saw you have your requests open so i wanted to req a james or remus x reader where she goes off on a tangent about something she loves and then cuts herself off because she doesn’t think he’ll want to hear about it, and he is just very kind and explains that he likes to hear her talk and doesn’t find her annoying? i’m talking to a guy rn and he’s so nice but recently he dismissed a topic i’m really interested in (inadvertently i think) and i felt so silly for even bringing it up :’) ik james or remus would be so comforting!!!

it’s okay if not though! i hope you’re having a beautiful day 💞

ramble

summary james lets you ramble about your favourite tv show

content james potter x fem!reader

note men just dont get the point, do they!!!! fuck him. thanks for the req though lovely <3

You've managed to steal James away. A moment where you've worked the courage to talk to only him, not talk to him through other points his friends have made. It's just you and him and he's asked you about your favourite TV show.

"So, they're about to release a new season," you say. Your hands are talking more than your mouth is. Pointing and waving around to get your point across. "And," you think you should pause to take a breath but you don't, "and she's back."

"Who?" James asks you. He sets his drink down to fold his arms across his chest and leans in.

"Veronica!" you say excitedly, eyes creasing with pleasure. You're radiating excitement. "She's not dead. She was just missing, trapped somewhere. I’m not sure yet, the trailer doesn’t show much. How cool?"

James nods and hums and then his name is called out from across the lawn. You think it's Sirius. James doesn't pay him any mind.

"And then there's Alexander," you're talking quietly now, still just as excited, "her lover. God, he's been looking for her for centuries. Romance isn't dead."

You pause to take a breath but mainly because Sirius is still trying to gain James's attention. Standing by the fire bucket with a bunch of sticks in his hand.

"Sorry, one moment," James says, soft smile and apologetic eyes, and turns to face his friend. He's got his hand on your knee. "What?"

"Do you wanna roast marshmallows?" Sirius asks and can tell James is incensed. He has it in him to look sheepish.

"What? No, I don't, Sirius." You've never heard James get angry at Sirius. You think you might laugh but feel worse because it's because of you. "Can't you see I'm talking?"

"Whatever," Sirius grumbles.

James turns back and looks like he's about to apologise again. You beat him to it. "Sorry, James." You turn your head and feel yourself heating up. "Shit, sorry. I've started rambling again. You can go see your friends."

"What?" James' face softens and it hits you right in the chest. He's still got his hand at your knee. He squeezes it when your face ducks down. "No, ignore Sirius. He's being his usual annoying self."

You bite your lip and still feel bad. You've sat here and rambled about a TV show he's unfortunately had the displeasure of asking you about. "He's your friend."

"He's a dickhead," he grumbles but has it in him to smile. You know he doesn't mean it. They're basically like brothers; you've only known James for a few months.

"You can go roast marshmallows if you want." You feel stupid when you say it. There's the tiniest bit in you that hopes he doesn't want to. By the off chance he doesn't, you promise to shut up.

"I don't want to roast marshmallows. I couldn't think of anything worse." James laughs and grabs his empty cup. Your breathing jumps. "Hey, let's got grab another drink and you can tell me more about this show, yeah?"

You blink at him. "Really?"

James stands and holds his hands out. You stare at his arms, where his biceps strain underneath his white button-down. He's gotta be cold. "Yeah, what were you saying about Alexander? Centuries? That is romantic."

You think you beam. You know you look like an idiot. Smiling up at him until your cheeks apple. You try to tamp down the way he's making you feel but fail immensely. He looks at you with all the patience in the world until you snap out of it.

You take his hands and think being here is warmer than the space around the bonfire. "Totally romantic," you swoon. A little too dramatic. You feel worse when James guides you through the swarm of people in Emmeline's backyard. He wraps his hand around your elbow. "I envy their relationship. I mean, who can say the love of their life searched for them across time and space for hundreds of years?"

James starts to pour your drink before his. You'd told him once, an offhanded comment weeks ago, your drink of choice. He apparently remembered. "Looks like I have a bit of competition.''

"Yeah?"

James nods and hands you your drink. Stronger than usual. You don't mind, you might need it. "I've gotta lift my romance game," he says. "Gotta impress you somehow. I don't know how to time travel but I'm a good hand holder."

You giggle and let him take your hand. "I don't think you'll need time travel, James."

He doesn't. He lets you ramble all night.

[avidhorrormoviefan]

Neteyam x Na’vi!Fem!Reader

an: i wrote this so long ago i forgot about it but here you go

there might be some grammar errors here and there but i’ll go back and fix it when i feel like it lmao

i loved writing this omg

warnings: fingering, slight hair pulling, p in v, cumming inside, in a forest smh

everyone in this is 18+!!

smut under cut

Flying through the air on your ikran in the dead of night, Neteyam and you moving fast. Both of your hair whipping in front of your faces. Swooping down and knocking into each other, playfully (he started it). You’re following him, not knowing where he's going. You’ve never been to this part of the forest before. Going deeper and deeper into the woods, Neteyam looks back at you and signals you to follow him down into a clearing from the tall, thick trees. It’s so beautiful, the bioluminescence lighting up the forest.

You land on the damp grass and dismount, unbinding and calming the ikrans. You take off your riders mask and put them in a pocket on the saddle.

"Neteyam, where are we?" You ask, walking over to him as he does the same, laughing a bit.

"A spot I found a while ago," he stops a few feet in front of you, "it’s an escape from my responsibilities." He fixes his hair, moving it away from his face.

"It's nice out here. How did you find this place?" You move a step closer to him.

"One night I just flew around and I found it," he laughs, looking at you, "I've been coming out here for a couple years now when everyone's asleep. It's nice and quiet, nobody comes out here."

"Really?" you ask. He smiles and nods as a response, "Have you ever taken anyone out here before?"

He looks down, almost embarrassed. Slightly laughing he says, "No, I haven't actually. You're the only other person that knows about this place. Well maybe our ancestors," he jokes, looking at you again.

You pity laugh. "It really is nice, why haven't you ever shown anyone this place before?" you question him again. You worry if you’re bothering him with these questions for a second, but he doesn't seem to mind when he answers you again.

"I don't know, it's just nice to be alone sometimes... or with someone you really care about."

He looks deep into your eyes; they have a certain look in them, something you think you’ve only ever seen when Jake looks at Neytiri.

He takes a step towards you, starting to feel a bit nervous. The way he looks at you makes your stomach turn. You feel like he really knows you, like he knows what you’re feeling. Like you have your own bond.

"Really?" you say, voice coming out higher than anticipated.

"Yeah..." he steps another foot once more, your bodies just inches apart. He takes your left hand in his right and holds it. You look down, his eyes making you feel something you don't think you’ve ever felt from another person before.

He moves his left hand up to your chin and picks it up, your eyes meeting again.

"I see you," he says, his kind eyes widening in anticipation. Your lips part slightly at the unexpected words

"I see you, too,” you smile at him, studying his facial expressions. His big, yellow eyes twinkling in the moonlight, switching from your eyes to lips. His white glowing freckles looking more prominent than ever. His eyebrows, lips, cheeks, jawline, everything; he looks perfect. He smiles, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Neteyam moves his hand on your face up to cup your cheek. Leaning into his touch, he squeezes your hand in his. He ducks his head down a little and you share a breath. He hovers for a second, hesitant. You push your head forward and close the gap between your lips. He quickly deepens the kiss, as he shoves his head forward a bit, pushing his lips further into yours. His hand lets go of yours and puts it around your hip and starts pushing you back. Your hands on his shoulders, instinctively, and follow his lead on everything.

He slightly bites your bottom lip, asking for an entrance. Opening your mouth as a response, he moves his tongue into your mouth, slowly but surely. Your tongues dance around each other, their own act. You end up with your back to a tree, not noticing you were moving backwards, the sudden bark on your back making a gasp erupt from your throat. You’re both running out of air, but neither of you care.

He moves his hand from your cheek down to your throat, fingers pressing into the sides and the back of your neck, making your mouth open and whine quietly. He breaks the kiss, taking his head back as you look at him, his lips wet and a bit puffy, yours the same. Both, panting and out of breath, you take your hands off of his shoulders and slide them down to his chest. Him, digging his fingers farther into your skin. Your hip and neck starting to hurt, but it's good. It feels like you’re not in control, it’s nice. He puts his thigh between your legs and inches up. You let out a high pitched gasp, getting some friction. You respond by putting your knee against him, feeling his erection through the thin piece of fabric under his Loincloth.

He whines your name, ducking his head down, slowly and softly pressing his lips against your jawline, slightly moving his hand out of the way. Opening your mouth again to let out a whine, he starts kissing more roughly and biting your neck. As he does, you push your knee harder against him and he whines too, stopping his movements on your neck. He takes his hand that's on your neck and puts it on the tree behind you for stability. He moves his knee, left to right.

"Neteyam," he looks up. You take your hand off of his chest and search for your Queue. Once you find it, you look down at the end. He looks at it and straightens his back. Neteyam gets his, and you both look at each others.


"You ready?" He asks, voice low.

"Yeah," you’ve never had Tsaheylu with another Na'vi before, you don't think he has either.

The exposed nerves move to tangle with eachother so perfectly. You both whine and gasp simultaneously. You feel him. His heartbeat, his breathing, passion, love...

You look at each other, just feeling.

You move your head towards him and kiss him harshly, he returns with the same energy.

Needy, and wanting more, you push him back, as you walking him a few steps backwards, away from the tree. He pulls away, parting from the kiss. You look at each other, once more. Feeling. Knowing. Seeing.

Neteyam starts to sit down, slightly pulling you down with him. He sits down with his legs out as you kneel in front of him.

"Cm’ere," he demands, patting his lap a bit.

You agree and scoot towards him, straddling just below his lap. He looks up and down your body and smiles, his eyes twinkling in the dim moonlight.

"Ewya.. you're beautiful,” his accent coming out.

You giggle at him as he puts his hands on your waist and you move your forearms around his neck.

"Thank you," you smile.

"Can... may I.…" he laughs nervously.

"Yes," you say, smiling, looking at his face, studying him a bit more.

He sighs in relief, looking down at his lap, as you follow his gaze. He moves the thin piece of fabric covering his erection. You exhale fast as your mouth falls agape as you see finally see his length.

Neteyam watches your hand as you move the fabric around your core, putting his hand on your thigh.

"Nete..." you say as he looks up at you, "please..."

He moves his hand farther up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your cunt, not breaking eye contact.

Moving his hand slowly, he makes his way down. He runs his two first fingers down your slit to collect your wetness. You gasp sharply as he shoves one of his long fingers inside you. You slump your head into the crook of his neck, laying your forehead on his shoulder, watching his finger disappear inside you.

"Oh, fuck…” he says, feeling your warm walls flutter around his finger.

You can’t help but moan out as he starts to retract and push his finger in and out of you.

You breathe out high pitched sounds as you push your hips down into his hand.

"Mhm,” he groans out and teases another finger. This doesn’t last for long as he pushes a second finger into you, a bit of pain coming from the stretch, making you close your eyes.

“S’good…” you moan and bring one of your hands to his other and pit his fingers on your clit, showing him how to move them in the perfect motion, adding another layer of ecstasy.

He closes his eyes, feeling your body as your tail comes around from behind you and wraps around his torso and his does the same.


He breathes your name once again as his dick becomes painfully hard.

You open your eyes and look down, his erection twitches when he moves his hand again. You pick your head up and look at him, staring at his fingers inside you.

"Can I?" He looks up at you with nothing but lust in his eyes.

"Ye-yeah,” you nod and he takes his fingers out and makes quick work with your loincloths, discarding them to the side then puts his hand on the base of his dick.

You duck your head down and catch his lips in a kiss. He depends it by sticking his tongue in your mouth. He puts a hand on your hip and brings to hover above him and lines himself up with your entrance. Then he pushes inside and pulls you down onto him. You whine, Neteyam moans out.

"Fuck,” he says your name with desire dripping from every letter.

He spins you around so your back is on the ground and he is on top of you. Your wrap your legs around his waist in this new position. He pants at the new feeling of him inside you. He pulls out so just his tip is inside and looks at you, your eyes meeting for a second before he pushes back into you.

You moan out, and he does it again, your slick making it easy to move in and out.

"Fuck! Neteyam-" you cry out, your back arching, pushing your hips up into him, matching his pace.

He goes faster at the mention of his name.

Neteyam groans out, patheticly. The only sounds are panting and your skin slamming together. You put your hands on his back and dig your nails into his skin as he hits the perfect, spongy spot, deep inside you. He whines at the feeling. His arms by the side of your head buckle, landing on his forearms, as he’s lost in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. His right hand goes to tightly hold onto your waist, wanting to feel you fucking him back. You pick up one of your hands off his back and up into his hair, slightly pulling on the pretty braids.

His dick hitting impossibly far up into your pussy, toying on your impending orgasm. His hips starting to falter more and more every other thrust.

"Ewya... I'm..." he sighs again, unable to get full, proper words out. "I-I'm.. auhh..”


"..Don't stop, don’t sto- please.. " The pleasure growing mighty in your stomach. He goes faster and you both squeeze your eyes, tight. He keeps going, determined on making you cum, and he does as he brings his hand to your clit, playing with it just like you showed him. You cum all over him, adding to the white, sticky ring on the base of his dick. He twitches inside you as he cums, the warm liquid filling you to the brim as his arms and back flex under your touch, moaning into your ear.

"Fuck...” your name falls from his lips as he pulls out, his cum draining out of you. He can’t help but watch as it slips down your whole pussy, pooling on the ground below you.

Your queues still connected as he lays down next to you, both out of breath, as your lungs fight for air. You lay there for a minute, trying to breathe steadily, in comfortable silence.

He ponders on his words for a second before blurting out-

“I love you.”

You turn your head over to his direction, his eyes trained on the sky above him.

You prop yourself up on your elbow before sitting up fully. Your hand moves subconsciously to his. The feeling of your skin on his makes chills shoot down his spine as he looks over at you. You pick up his hand and inspect the four fingers before interlacing them in your own. He sits up and matches your position, now facing eachother.

“I love you too, Neteyam.”

He kisses you softly, hand moving to your cheek. You kiss back before he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

“We have to get back before my father notices we’re gone,” he says quietly.

You sigh at his words, sad that this moment has to end, but you know he’s right. “Yeah, good idea.”

[aayakashii]

Okay this is just a short 800 words fic based on the headcanons @ghoulspaw and I have talked about because the ideas were too good to leave alone 😭😭😭 I didn't know how to end it so it just ends abruptly like that sorry ✌️😗✌️

Leo was about to either set fire to Sho's food truck or just bash his head in the counter, like, immediately.

“Ew, Sho. I didn't know you could be so uncool. This is so embarrassing.” Leo said, and if his eyes could shoot out lasers and daggers, they would probably have completely pierced his pathetic friend.

“Huh?” Sho gasped, voice shaking and a whole octave higher. His face turned towards Leo, but his eyes were dead set on the person sitting on the other side of the counter, happily eating one of his signature burgers – the Honor Student.

Leo clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. If Sho was supposed to act stupid once he had a crush, he hoped at least it wouldn't be on that NPC.

He had never actually seen Sho having feelings for anyone, so this was his first time witnessing how he acted – and now Leo was rethinking his entire friendship.

“This tastes so good Sho, oh my god. I was right when I said you should charge for this because it's out of this world!” The Honor Student mumbled, cheeks stuffed with food and Leo grimaced. Is Sho really into that THING?

Sho fidgeted with the hem of his apron and fixed his bandana, unable to stay still after their compliment like a happy puppy. Disgraceful.

“Haha, yeah…” he cleared his throat “Maybe I should raise the prices a little, huh?” he teased, trying so damn hard to act nonchalant that it almost made Leo implode in second hand embarrassment.

“Well, even that wouldn't stop me from buying your food, that's how much I like it!” They said, happily chewing the last bite of their hamburguer.

Sho began to laugh, but his voice cracked and he cleared his throat again.

“You- you don't need to pay, haha…” he picked on the loose strands of his bandana.

“No no I insist! You deserve it.” They said placing the money for the food and sliding it towards Sho, who flinched when his own hand brushed against their fingers.

Leo rolled his eyes, feeling absolutely nauseated while watching them talk and giggle like middle school girls with a crush on each other.

He should have known something was very very wrong when he saw Sho carrying his helmet around and on top of it was, of all things, a freaking miniature rubber duck. He should have seen the signs. 

When he asked Sho about the toy, he had just avoided explaining himself and Leo decided to let it go – he didn't care enough about it to keep pushing. But now it all made sense! The NPC had OBVIOUSLY given it to him and he just. put it there.

Oh, no, he's a lost cause. Leo should just put him out of his misery.

After the Honor Student left, he pinched Sho's arms, hard.

“Ow! What was that for?!” Sho yelped, rubbing the now reddened skin.

“You better act on your stupid crush immediately or I will tell the NPC all about it.”

Sho's eyes widened and he scoffed.

“Crush? There's no crush. What are you talking about? Pffft.” Sho turned his back to Leo, suddenly very busy with the dirty dishes.

“PLEASE. I almost puked while I watched you two flirt.”

“Flirt? You think they were flirting with me?” Sho glanced at Leo, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“I will kill you.” Leo said, through gritted teeth.

Sho sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You have no business with this, Leo. Back off and leave me alone.”

Leo raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I have business.”

“What would that be?”

“A bet.”

Sho rolled his eyes. “Never. Not betting anything with them at stake.”

Leo pretended he was throwing up, making a loud vomit sound.

“Not you thinking you're prince charming now! Trying to defend their honor or something?”

Sho was silent while he scrubbed a plate. Leo hopped onto the counter, and pulled out his phone, tapping away mindlessly.

“It's easy, you tell them about your crush and you get me to do any favor you want for a whole week. You don't tell them and I'll spill the beans and you give me all your week's profit from the truck.”

Sho quickly turned to face Leo and huffed out a sarcastic laugh.

“What kind of bet is this?! This sounds more like a hostage situation!”

“Hey, don't forget I have contacts. I can get you any stuff you want. Even some fancy expensive wine to drink during a date with your NPC, alllll for free. And more. Who knows what kind of freaky shit they're into.” He shrugged, smiling devilishly.

Sho crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Leo. The cogs moving inside his mind were almost visible while he nibbled on his own lip, trying to weigh his options. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his hands on his face.

“Do I have a deadline?”

Leo smirked. That was so easy.

[bluebeary-jay]

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out.  It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel…

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

[seraphinalovesme]

꩜.ᐟ OUCH ✧₊⁺

— feat. disassembly drone N x worker drone reader

— authors note. I DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE FOR ROBOTS, and I don't know how to write fighting scene too so BITE ME!! lol

01

𐙚࣪⊹—————   

The winter wind howled, a chilling symphony against the otherwise silent landscape. Only the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of shoes on the frozen ground broke the stillness. A robotic figure, sporting a cute hat, walked towards a pod, her friend by her side.  You knew you shouldn't be out here, especially with her "project." But a nagging feeling had compelled you to follow, and now, regret gnawed at you. You clutched her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Uzi, we shouldn't be here! It's dangerous! We need to get back behind the doors! Who knows what those murderous drones wi-”

Your words died in your throat as you saw the pile of dead robot corpses. The sight sent a shiver of fear down your spine, making your lips tremble. Uzi rolled her eyes and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“C'mon, (Name), don't be a fraidy cat! Besides, we're doing something awesome! C'mon, help me find it. The sooner we get it, the sooner we get out of here!”

Uzi grinned, already running towards the spaceship, her eyes scanning the area. You, however, were frozen in place, fear gripping your heart. But Uzi was right; the faster they found it, the faster they could escape.

The sound of snow crunching underfoot was a constant, almost deafening roar as you helped Uzi search for the final piece of her weapon.  You scanned the area, your optics sweeping across the desolate landscape, a relentless pursuit for the missing component.  The wind whipped around you, biting at your exposed circuits, but you pressed on, driven by a mixture of concern and a desperate need to escape this dangerous place.  Finally, Uzi’s voice, laced with a mix of excitement and relief, pierced through the blizzard’s fury.

“Is that it?  If so, let's get out of here!  Uzi, this place is a death trap!  We need to go!”

You grabbed her hand, your metallic fingers tightening around hers, and started to run.  But a sudden flurry of wings, a sound that sent shivers down your circuits, made you freeze in your tracks.  Instinct took over, and your optics flickered, scanning the area with renewed urgency.  You gripped Uzi’s hand even tighter, your survival instincts kicking in, your visor switching to survival mode, its red glow reflecting the danger that lurked in the shadows.  The snowstorm raged around you, but it was the unseen threat, the unknown predator, that sent a wave of fear through your systems.

"THERE!" Uzi's voice, sharp with urgency, cut through the howling wind.  She pointed a trembling finger, and your fear, a cold, metallic dread, surged through your circuits.  You turned, your processors screaming, and began to run.

"UZI, RUN!"  Your own voice echoed in the blizzard, a desperate plea against the relentless storm.  You both sprinted, but the winged monstrosity was faster, its shadow looming over you like a predator.  You pushed Uzi to the left, a desperate attempt to avoid its strike, but you weren't fast enough.  A searing pain lanced through your shoulder, a sharp, metallic sting that sent a jolt of agony through your systems.  But your reflexes, honed by countless simulations, kicked in.  You punched the drone in the face, a desperate blow that forced it to release its grip.  You crashed to the ground, your circuits screaming in protest, clutching at the wound.  Your visor, a crimson beacon of alarm, flickered to survival mode, scanning the area for threats.  You grabbed the nearest piece of scrap metal, a jagged shard of twisted steel, and used it as a makeshift weapon.  But then, Uzi's voice, filled with a raw, primal urgency, cut through the blizzard's roar.

"(NAME)!  DUCK!"

You obeyed instinctively, diving to the ground just as a blinding laser beam tore through the air, striking the robot squarely in the head.  You watched, stunned, as the drone crumpled, its circuits smoking.  "Holy scrap," you thought, "that gun Uzi built... it's dangerous."  You were both alive, for now, but the fight was far from over.

"Uzi!" you shouted, your voice a strained rasp.  Pushing through the searing pain in your shoulder, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close.  Your visor, a calming blue once more, indicated that survival mode had deactivated.  You held her tightly, trying to find solace in her presence, trying to calm your racing circuits.

"I told you this was a bad idea..." you mumbled, your voice a low groan.

But before you could finish the thought, a chilling sound broke the silence.  The headless robot, its metallic frame shuddering, began to rise.  You watched in astonishment as its severed head, a grotesque mockery of life, reattached itself to the body, its systems whirring back to life.  You had never witnessed such a thing.  In all your years, you had never seen a robot regenerate.

"What... is this thing?" you whispered, your voice laced with a mixture of fear and fascination.

Uzi, her eyes burning with a strange, fierce light, grabbed your severed arm, the one you'd used to punch the drone, and charged at the reanimated robot.  You tried to grab her, to pull her back, but it was too late.

"WA- WAIT UZI!" you yelled, but your warning fell on deaf ears.  Uzi slammed the robotic arm into the creature's head, a brutal blow that knocked it offline.

"Woah!  Did you just hit me with an arm?" the robot groaned, its voice a distorted echo.

"Oh my darling stars, it talks," you muttered, your circuits buzzing with a mixture of shock and disbelief.  The encounter had taken a turn you hadn't anticipated, a turn that left you reeling in a dizzying cocktail of emotions.  This was a new kind of danger, a threat unlike anything you had ever encountered.

You pulled Uzi behind you, shielding her with your body, and glared at the murderous drone.  Your visor, though no longer in survival mode, still flickered with a warning red, reflecting the unease that gnawed at your circuits.

"What are you...?” you mumbled, your voice low and dangerous.  You gritted your teeth, holding Uzi close, her small frame trembling against your metallic chest.

The robot chuckled, a hollow, metallic sound that sent shivers down your circuits.  It raised its hand, a gesture of surrender.  The silence that followed was thick with tension, a heavy weight that pressed down on you.  You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly, and reluctantly lowered your guard.  Your optics scanned the area, searching for any sign of danger.  For now, it seemed safe.

"Hiss..." a soft sound hissed behind you.  You turned your head and saw Uzi's hand, the one she had used to strike the robot, melting.  The metal was turning into a viscous, bubbling liquid, a horrifying sight that sent a jolt of fear through your system.

"Oh, you got hit with some of your venom!  You should stick it inside your mouth. It'll heal!  Haha," the robot chuckled, lowering its hand.  Its tone was light, almost playful, but the sight of Uzi's melting hand made your circuits scream.

You looked back at the murderous drone, your brow furrowed in confusion.  Its actions, its words, its strange, almost friendly demeanor, were all so confusing.  You had never encountered a robot like this before, a robot that seemed to be both friendly and... strangely playful. What Is This Thing Planning? What was this thing, and what was its purpose?  You had so many questions, but for now, you focused on the immediate threat: Uzi's melting hand.  You needed to stop it, and you needed to figure out what this robot was all about.

The thing, the murderous drone, stared at you, its optics boring into you with an intensity that made you uncomfortable.  It held your gaze for a moment, a moment that stretched into an eternity, and then, as if realizing its lapse in etiquette, quickly looked away, chuckling nervously.

"Hahah, I'm sorry!" it said, its voice a strange mix of metallic and human.

"Oh! You must be a new squad mate! And your name is…?" it asked, its tone now friendly, almost eager.  It smiled, a strange, lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach its eyes, and held out its hand.

"That doesn't matter," you replied, your voice curt, your gaze unwavering.  You had no intention of revealing your name to this unpredictable creature.

But Uzi, ever curious, had a question of her own.

“Sayyy, you said you said you're on a squad, right? So like, is the other coming back?” she asked, her voice laced with a hint of apprehension.

You looked at her, your optics flickering with concern.  Uzi’s question was a valid one.  The robot had mentioned a squad, implying that he wasn't alone.  But with the way things were going, with the unpredictable nature of this creature, it was impossible to know what to expect.  You couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of his squad was as… strange, as predictable, as this one.

© seraphinalovesme 2024. All work belongs to @seraphinalovesme . You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 8

Holy crap the amount of likes and comments and reblogs you all have left is amazing! Thank you so so much for enjoying!

Anyway! On to the next part.

Masterlist

The sound of the native birds of your island is what wakes Mihawk. He cracks his eyes open, wincing when his back protests him moving as soon as he wakes up. He stands and moises his way to the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting it on the stove. Mugs and tea bags are next, and Dracule makes sure to dump some sugar into your own cup. He then moves on, collecting fresh fruits and vegetables from your garden and investigating the smoke room. He finds very little inside and decides that his haul now is enough for breakfast. 

Fixing it up doesn't take all that long, and soon, he has a platter of foodstuffs that looks similar to the one last night. Dracule makes a mental note to try and bring you some type of livestock, though he dreads the thought of anything bigger than a house cat on his ship. 

The tea is placed on the tray, and Dracule makes his way to your bedroom. He eases the door open, and a soft smile crosses his lips at the sight of you curled up with an arm around Hank. The big pooch whines and drags himself off the bed and out the door, going to do his business. Mihawk takes his spot and sets the tray away from you but still on the bed. 

“Sweet thing,” Dracule rumbles and slides his hand up into your hair, scratching your scalp just the way you like it, “It's time to get up. I've made breakfast.” 

Those seem to be the magic words for you rise like the dead and look at Mihawk through squinted eyes. He thinks she looks adorable when you rub your eyes, pout on your lips from being woken up. 

“Hawk?” You mumble out and wince when your head throbs like a bastard. You whine and lay back down, not wanting to deal with the pain, “Don't feel good.” 

Dracule can't help but laugh at your pitiful state, “Oh, Darling. I'm not surprised you don't feel very well,” he coos and gently pulls you back into a sitting position. He shifts to sit behind you, back against the wall, as he drags the tray of goodies closer to both of you. 

“One must be careful when indulging in alcohol. Is this your first hangover?” Mihawk asks quietly, and you shrug, not really understanding what he's going on about. You frown when he laughs at you again and cross your arms over your chest, only to wince when you brush across your breasts. 

“Owee,” you murmur quietly and wonder why your chest aches so badly, only to drop your head in shame when you happened to remember most of last night. 

Mihawk gently lays you back and lifts your shirt, shushing you gently when you squirm and try to fight him, “Hush, let me look. There is nothing to be embarrassed by,” he chides and sends you a look that has you ducking your head and looking away from him. Mihawk examines the seldom hickies and love bites with a smug twist of his lips, hands reaching up to gently trace the bite mark that still lingers from last night. 

You look beautiful all marked up, and a dark feeling blooms in his chest at the sight of what he did. Mihawk wants to see more of them on you, proof that you want him. That you are his. 

“Just sore, sweet thing,” Dracule comments lowly and kisses your cheek, lingering to leave a trail of hot kisses all the way down your neck and to your shoulder, “We will have breakfast and then you will have a hot bath while I do my morning routine.” 

You nod, completely at the warlord's mercy as you glance down to see that he hasn't stopped his gentle ministrations, thumbs rubbing over your nipples over and over again until you can think of nothing but the man who holds you. Even your hangover doesn't seem as bad with Dracule here. 

Mihawk glances over the tray and picks up a cubed melon slice, lifting it up to your lips and grinning when you obediently open your mouth for him. He feeds you one piece after another until you are pleasantly full and ready to go back to sleep, “Tea first, sweet girl,” he orders when he feels you shift again. 

You nod slowly, wincing when your head aches at even the slightest movements. The tea has cooled, but it still tastes wonderful to your cottonmouth. You sip until it is empty, and Dracule takes the mug away from you when he notices you finished. He taps your thigh gently, “Up you go, Darling.” He encourages softly. 

He leaves you to find some clean clothes and a towel while he goes to the bathroom and begins to run you a bath. He is surprised by the amount of modern utilities he finds in your cottage and wonders who you really are. While simple, your home was filled with older but no less luxurious items. The hot water and plumbing were just one of the many things that he's noticed. 

Mihawk's thoughts are interrupted when you appear in the doorway with a thin robe and towel. You smile at the sight of your friend starting you a bath, “Thank you for taking care of me, Dracule,” you say, and step close to press your lips to his cheek when he rises from his slouch over the tub. 

Hawkeye feels hot satisfaction curl in his chest at your thanks. He turns and pulls you in for a kiss, hand coming up to tangle in your hair and pull you close to him. Mihawk likes the way you say his name. All breathy and full of gratitude, and all for him.

 You whine at the less than soft treatment, but you can't bring yourself to care or complain about it. Not when you love it when Dracule touches you like this. He kisses you breathless, leaving you a gasping mess as he turns away to fiddle with the knobs of the faucet. You pout a little, annoyed that Dracule is never as affected as you are after a kiss like that. 

Your annoyance disappears the second that Dracule steps behind you, hands placed on your shoulders as if to slide your robe down. Nerves surge through your entire body, and you clutch the thick fabric to your chest, “I um. I can take It from here, Mihawk.” 

You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck. Your hair is up in a messy bun, allowing the warlord to press chaste kisses to the flushed skin there, and thankfully, no more than that.

 “Take your time, dear one. I'll be outside if you need me.” Dracule assures you, and then he is shutting the door behind himself and leaving you alone in the bathroom.

You shrug off your bathrobe, and a relaxing sigh escapes you as you settle in the hot water, eyes closing as you do what Mihawk bid and take your time. 

It's an hour later by the time you step outside. It's nice and sunny like usual, and you grin when Hank bounds up. The big lug presents you with a stick, and you toss it into the woods for your dog to go running after. You glance around, humming wordlessly as you look for Dracule. 

You find him at the back of the cottage where the sun shines brightest. Your home is situated up a small embankment, leaving your backyard to drop off into a cliff face. Dracule stands at the edge of the cliff, looking regal and dramatic as the wind blows his dark hair this way and that. 

You wonder why he keeps coming back here. He's told you before that your island is like a safe haven from the rest of the world, but sometimes you aren't sure that you believe him. You don't know what the rest of the world is like, and when you first came to this island, you yearned to leave and explore the world. How much of the world has Mihawk experienced to say that your island in the middle of nowhere was a safe place for him. 

What did your friend go through for him to run and hide away from it all? 

“I can hear you thinking from up here, dear,” Mihawk says, and you nearly jump out of your skin. He turns and gives you a smug smirk, “What's on your mind?” 

You huff at him and step by his side, eyes flickering to the crashing waves of the ocean. Your devil fruit reacts to the sight, sending flurries scattering about the two of you. You debate asking the real question you've wanted answered since Dracule stepped foot on your island. Just who exactly was Dracule Hawkeye Mihawk? 

“Nothing, just admiring,” you say instead. You didn't want to give him any reason to leave early. 

Dracule huffs at you with a roll of his eyes, “Is that so?” He presses and eyes you, “You can ask me things, Dear One. I won't lie to you.” 

“Even if it's about who you really are?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. You tense, flurries sticking to your skin as your nerves get the better of you. The silence is thick between the two of you, and you are terrified to even look in his direction. 

“I introduced myself when I saved you from those pirates, did I not?” Dracule's tone is one of forced calm, and more snow begins to fall when you hear it. You can't help but feel like you've messed up. A warm hand catches your chin, and you are forced to look into the golden, ringed eyes of your friend. His gaze is as cold as your devil fruit, and you find yourself shivering under it. 

“You did,” you agreed carefully, “But, you just… don't speak about yourself often, and I'm curious.” You swallow harshly and catch the bird following the movement of your throat. His eyes catch your own in the next moment, and you force yourself to hold his gaze. 

It feels like it takes an eternity, but Dracule relents, eyes softening just a fraction and grip becoming more tender, “I have a good reason for not doing so, Snow Angel,” he murmurs. 

You suck in a sharp breath at the new name, wetting your lips as you latch on to the pretty words that he spills. You want to say more, but your lips won't move. Your jaw won't work to form the words that you want to say to him. Dracule has you, hook, line, and sinker, just where he wants you. He traces the curve of your jaw with his thumb, then leans forward to press his lips to your brow. 

“Promise to not ask me again, and I'll tell you in my own time,” Dracule suggests softly and you lose yourself even more to him, “I do not take the sharing of personal information lightly,_.” 

And there it was. The nail in the coffin. Mihawk rarely calls you by your name, so hearing it in his sinfully melodic voice sends shivers of pleasure racing up your spine. The flurries melt, and you find yourself nodding eagerly.

“I promise not to ask again,” you say, and feel like you are about to explode when Dracule gives you a proud quirk of his lips. 

“Good girl,” Mihawk praises softly and brings you in for a quick kiss, pleased that you see his way of things. The tension in the air is all but gone, and the warlord leads his snow angel away from the cliff edge.

“Come, I didn't get those books for you for nothing, Dear One. How about you read one of them to me?” 

You let Dracule pull you back to the cottage, Hank meeting you with a happy bark at the door. His anger still lingers in the back of your mind, but you can let it go for now. 

@writingmysanity @foggyturtleknightangel @kenkenmaaa @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @djbumblebee

[theravencawsatmidnight]

I AM SO FUCKING BACK

Leland Coyle x F! reader.

W! Nsfw, dubcon, swearing, insertion.

WOOOOOO ENJOY I HAVEN’T WRITTEN FANFIC IN LIKE FOREVERS .

If this is liked ill do more!!! It has build up but i love it!!!!!

Every trial you managed to give Coyle the slip, whether you slipped by him, barricaded a door or just teased him from a distance. You were always one step ahead of the officer and each and every time he would bite his smoke in half while he watched the transporter take you away , the only sound of your snickers bouncing off the cold walls. But this trial would be different, he told himself . He would catch you. And he would do whatever he wanted.

The next few trials he was nowhere to be seen, the other nuts would be out and about while he hung back to watch you and your tactics, every move, every hiding spot, every little room you snuck off to just to get a quick heal fix. How would he catch you though? Should he do it outright? The man puffed out heavy smoke from his mouth watching you scramble around, you looked like you were in a bitchy mood. Rolling your eyes each time you got cornered and it was not him. Groaning when you could not sneak away to finish a task on your own. Poor thing. He let this go on for a bit, watching your friends distance themselves from you as the trials went on until they just went off on their own once they arrived leaving you all alone. This was perfect, a perfect opportunity.

The doors opened letting you and your friends into the dark parking lot riddled with cop cars, immediately they went off without you leaving you with a huffy face and hands on your hips. “Whatever, i don't need any of you to do this” you yelled off to them just for it to fall on deaf ears. Instead you stomped around the parking lot hearing the alarm go off inside the building only you did not bother to see who it was, Coyle was nowhere to be found lately so you had no one to toy with. “Probably dead, damn bastard” you said with a grunt under your breath as you wiggled into an open cop car door to pluck free some small medicine that was under the seat. “Everytime” you said with a satisfied tone. Tucking away the bottle you went on with your trial ducking from screams, gunshots and whatever else seemed to happen. Just when you had gotten inside the door you always went through to get to the main office was shut oddly enough. “Did they not come through here?” you asked tilting your head as you grabbed the knob to whip the door open only to get stabbed in the chest and fall on your ass. “ fuck!! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!” With great haste you yanked the object out, dropping it to cover the bleeding hole in your chest and crawling under a desk panting heavily as you fumbled around the medicine, unscrewing the knob and hanging it over the wound just for nothing to come out. “What… its ITS EMPTY?!” you tossed the bottle away in a fit of rage swearing up a storm. “What the fuck?! How the shit is it empty, who just leaves an empty fuckign bottle ?! and who knew my stash was there…..” it made no sense, but you had more, more heals, antidotes, everything you needed in other places in this fuckin trial…

Meanwhile Coyle was lifting his baton to light his cigarette while he watched you from inside an old room, a smirk crawled up his face as he puffed out smoke. “Working so far” he thought to himself. Ignoring the bleeding wound you stumbled into the main office finding bandages placed.. Conveniently on a desk . Without thinking about it you quickly patched yourself up feeling great relief. It was… oddly quiet. Where was everyone? Your friends could not complete the Kill the Snitch trial without you. And where were the nuts? Is this some kind of new test? Whatever. “I just need to find them so we can finish and leave.” you told yourself as you made your way around the trial only to come up empty. Every hiding spot had junk shoved into it making it impossible to squeeze in. every little stash had empty bottles and even your secret room was flipped upside down. And… where was the Snitch? Your friends? You checked the electrifying room to find the chair empty and your friend's terminals already full. “What? But they can't do it without me…” something was not right… you decided to poke at the terminal as if it would help but no luck. Even pressing the button was left unnoticed. They had already left. “What the fuck? So i just have to stay here till a new trial starts?”

“It seems that way” said a voice behind you. Quickly you turned around to some Bambino standing there pointing his shotgun at you. “I'm here to deliver you to your DATE” he laughed wildly. While he was doing so you rushed off into the trial once more, trying to find any kind of hiding spot. Heavy footsteps were growing louder and shotgun shots were bouncing off the walls. Sliding down a corner you spotted an open door rushing in slamming it shut and barricading it with a heavy inhale of breath. “Fucker… maybe i can hide out in here.” you told yourself , unaware of the small burning light behind you that got brighter with each breath the mouth around it took. You stepped back a few steps tripping over some garbage onto your ass and felt your wrists get grabbed and tied together behind your back. “HEY!!! whatTHE !!!!” a cloth was tied around your mouth and your body was shoved to the center of the room till your back hit a flipped over chair. Your ankles pulled apart and tied to a leg of the chair leaving you very exposed to whatever had caught you , you thrashed about which led to an arm wrapping around you pulling you to the chair to tie your chest to it keeping you in place. And here you were, hands tied up, legs tied apart and chest tied to a god damn chair..

Heavy footsteps filled your ears making your heart thump in your throat , you were starting to sweat out of fear and your eyes were straining to see who had caught you in this dimly lit room. The figure stopped in front of you sliding on his heels with a cattle prod in one hand and his other on his belt. Your heart fell all the way to your ass as Coyle leaned down with the biggest grin on his face , he took in the fear on your face making him feel so nice inside . “well sweetness, whos got who now?” he asked with sarcasm on his tongue, he laughed up at the ceiling while you thrashed about as if it would free you .

“Ya know you been pissin me off,” he told you as he twirled his electric prod around. “Always making my day so fuckin hard and annoyin sweetness. “ his free hand found your breast sitting firmly above the rope , slowly he rubbed it watching you through his shades , every struggle, every bite down on the cloth, every bit of drool that fell from your mouth turned him on. “I was getting tired of it.” he got a firm grip on the shirt around your chest ripping it off you , the excess hanging off the rope exposing your chest to the cool air. “So cute, so I devised a plan, I know, crazy right? “ Slowly his hand traveled down to your raggy pants, he grabbed hold of the garment, ripping it to shreds with ease, leaving you with just your panties. “Always so snarky, bitchy and just flat out annoying” the hand with his cattle prod curled your clit in small circles and your body twitched. No no no… “mmhgg!! “ you tried to plead, beg, anything. You would never do it again… never ever ever… “haha!! Whats that?!” he held his free hand up to his ear to mock you. “Cant hear ya!!!” the circles turned into up and down rubs from the cattle prod as Coyle had his fun with you, he loved this to bits. You on the other hand, your body was reacting against you and a wet spot was forming from all the stimulation, your body was feeling heavy and your vision was fogging over. Coyle used his other hand to squeeze a nipple and twist it around, lifting it up getting a loud muffled scream out of you and what sounded like pleading for him to let go, when he did your body fell limp in your restraints but you were not allowed rest because he just did the same thing to the other poor nipple. All while Coyle tortured you you could feel yourself getting close to climax.. This stupid fucking body. Coyle had glanced down seeing your pussy twitch around and the wet spot leaking from the sides. The officer looked back up at you resting his free hand on his cheek freeing your nipple from its squeezing. Just when you thought you were about to climax the man smiled and moved his prod away sending you into a frenzy as your orgasm faded away. “ MFFFF” you thrashed around biting the cloth hard trying to get any kind of friction, any kind of stimulation … you just wanted to cum. Just once. Just one time and you would learn your lesson… Coyle did not tease your clit again till you had fully calmed down just to do it all again .Every climax you chased disappeared like it was never there. You were a mess, a sweaty huffing mess. The white panties were covered in your juices by now and left a spot on the floor under you. “Ya know sweetness this all could have been avoided … if you were such a bitch…” he tried to sound sympathetic but his body language said otherwise. Every time he moved the prod away he would smirk at you, or tilt his head or blow smoke in your face. The hours were lingering… your body was needy and tired… you were a sweaty mess.. And just when you were about to pass out an alarm went off waking you back up. Coyle threw his head back with a satisfied groan. “Finally a new trial, i'm feelin frisky though. “ the man looked back down at you brushing the wet hair from your forehead” do me a favor sweetness?” the man ripped your panties off and shoved the prod up your pussy just enough so it would not fall out but not enough to cause any damage to you. “Keep this warm for me, im goin scarin!” he laughed getting up leaving you tied up with an electric prod shamefully shoved up your needy pussy. Coyle opened the door and looked back, tipping his hat to you. “Dont worry, your my little toy, i wont let anyone in here” the door closed leaving you in the dark, the sound of the lock echoing in your head.

Tags/ @outlastrabbit

Thought you might enjoy this!

[archangeldyke-all]

mermaid reader and pirate/sailor sevika

sevika would be such a good pirate! she's ruthless and driven and really fucking smart, could you imagine her in one of those billowing white shirts??? i just nutted.

anyways, let's be cliche. it's so fun.

men and minors dni

you're out swimming when you come upon a shipwreck. judging by the wreckage still in flames, it had happened pretty recently. you swim closer, eager to see what kind of treasures were on board. as you approach the debris, you hear a groan. you freeze, your eyes scanning the water for a sailor as you sink into the water, just your eyes above the waves.

it's been a while since you had a sailor, and human is always a nice treat when you've been feasting on fish for a while. you bite your lip as you start slowly swimming around the various floating barrels and shrapnel.

there's a few dead men bobbing on the surface of the sea face down. you scrunch your nose in disgust as you navigate the bodies, swimming toward the moaning that's echoing over the waves. humans only taste good when they're still warm.

as the last remaining yards of the main mast sink below the surface, a loud, animalistic scream sounds out from behind you. you whip around. your eyes catch on a moving figure. as you swim closer, you're eyes adjust, and you realize that it's a human hugging onto a bobbing barrel. you grin, your sharp fangs descending from your gums as you duck beneath the surface and swim under the barrel.

two feet below the floating human, you can only see their flailing legs. you smile. human legs are so strange looking. you reach out to run one of your long, sharp nails down their pant leg, laughing when they start to panic, flailing around in the water. "what the fuck was that?!" you hear their garbled shout out above the water. you giggle, then wrap your hand around their ankle. a loud shriek rings out and they nearly kick your face with their free leg. you dodge them and swim away, slowly rising to the surface behind where they're scrambling to straddle the barrel and get their body out of the water. you chuckle.

the sailor whips around to face you, and you both simultaneously gasp.

it's a woman, you think in shock. her breasts are heaving, and the thin white shirt she's wearing is doing nothing to conceal her chest now that it's soaked. her silver eyes are wild, her black hair is plastered to her face, her brown skin is dotted with drops of water. a pretty woman.

"fuck." she whispers. you giggle again, swimming closer to her as she scrabbles at the barrel in fear. "fuck fuck fuck." she curses. you stop ten feet away from her.

"i've never seen a human woman before." you say. she freezes.

"y-you can talk?" she asks. you giggle. humans always ask that.

"what are you doing out here?" you ask. the woman blinks at you.

"are... are you gonna kill me?" she asks. you shrug and smirk.

"dunno." you say honestly. "never killed a woman before."

it's silent for a moment. then, "aren't you supposed to sing?" she asks. you burst into laughter.

"only if i was trying to lure you. but... you don't really have anywhere else to go, do you?" the woman studies you and you study her. "you're very pretty." you say. the human laughs. what a lovely sound. "what are you doing out here?" you ask her again.

"i... i was captain of this ship." she says. you blink.

"women can sail?" you ask. she scowls at you.

"'course we can." she grunts. "they just don't want us to."

you consider this, looking the woman up and down. she's shivering now, the shock and adrenaline wearing off. "doesn't look like it went very well." you say, gesturing to the floating bits of ship surrounding you. she growls.

"that's not my fuckin' fault! my navigator got scurvy!" she spits. you swim closer to her and she shuts up, gulping. you frown.

"are you scared of me?" you ask. she huffs a laugh.

"obviously." she says. you frown.

"why?"

"fuckin' look at you!" she says, gesturing her free hand at you. you look down at your body. "gills and fangs and shit! i thought mermaids were a fuckin' myth!"

you pout, sucking your fangs back up into your gums. "there. better?" you ask. the woman shrugs.

"depends."

"on?"

"are you gonna kill me?" she asks. you grin.

"dunno." you say again. she groans. "what's your name?" you ask.

"sevika." she says.

"how'd you get into sailing?"

"dad was a fisherman." she grunts.

"which flag do you sail under?" you ask. you've had horrible experiences with sailors who wave the flag with the red X on the white sheet, a few of their ships tried to hunt you for weeks. ships that fly the red X on the blue sheet carry tasty sailors, always fattened up and full of liquor. the woman before you chuckles.

"none of 'em." she says. you raise an eyebrow at her. "i... technically was not the owner of that vessel." she says, gesturing to the bottom of the sea where her ship has sunk. you grin.

"you're a pirate!?" you gasp. she shrugs.

"i guess."

"a woman pirate!?" you ask again. she chuckles at your excitement.

"yeah." she says. you swim in an excited little circle before reaching your hand out to sevika. she flinches away from it and you pout.

"come on. i'm not gonna kill you." you say, shaking your hand at her. she eyes you warily.

"right. i'm sure you say that to all the boys before you sink those freaky teeth into their throats." she says. you grin and giggle.

"well yeah, but you're not a boy." you say. she hesitates, still, and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "fine. i'll just leave you here to starve to death. or maybe the dehydration will get you first. you'll start drinking the saltwater to quench your thirst and that'll be it. or maybe the sun will just cook you to a crisp when it rises." you say, slowly swimming away from the pirate. panic starts creeping over her face as you speak, and when you dip beneath the water, you hear her scream.

"wait! come back!" she shouts. you giggle and pop up six inches away from her. she jumps in surprise, her grip on the barrel slipping, and she starts flailing as she begins to sink. you quickly hook one of your arms under hers, pulling her back up to the surface and holding her as she gasps and sputters for air. "thank you." she says, as she clings to you. you smile.

the woman falls asleep in your arms as you swim her to a small deserted island nearby. on the shore, with half your body still in the water, you gently tend to her wounds, cleaning them out with saltwater before dressing them with strips of her shirt. she shifts and mumbles in her sleep, but doesn't wake. you admire her for an hour or two, pressing your ear to her chest to listen to her lungs, poking at her legs and studying her toes. when the sun begins to rise, you spend an hour catching and killing fish for her, dumping the headless bodies into a pile beside her sleeping body. it occurs to you that humans drink freshwater, so you begin to swim around the perimeter of the island, looking for a river or stream where you can collect some water for your new human friend.

when you return to sevika with a sack you'd made out of leaves filled with fresh water over your shoulder, she's starting to wake up. you claw up onto the beach to lay beside her, watching her twitching eyelids blink awake.

"you're real." she grunts. you smile. "thought i imagined you." she says, sitting up. there's sand in her hair, and you reach up to brush it out.

"your hair's so soft." you say as you twirl a lock of it between your fingers. sevika looks around her, taking in the island and the supplies you'd piled by her legs. she looks back down at you.

"you brought me here?" she asks. you nod. she blinks. "and the fish?"

"figured you needed to eat." you say. you nod to the freshwater. "got you water too." you say. "the kind you can drink, i mean."

sevika laughs, slightly hysterical as she takes in the scene. you frown.

"this is like... fifty pounds of fish." she says. you blink at her.

"yeah?"

"that's way too much fish." she says. you pout.

"i thought you'd be nice. you're a woman pirate for fucks sake, you're supposed to be cool! but all you've done since we met is call me scary lookin' and insult my fish!" you say as you start to shove yourself back down the shore and into the water. "i saved your life! and i didn't eat any of the fish i got for you. i mean, except for the heads. and i brought you to land and everything! you're fuckin' heavy, you know, and i swam you all the way here! and i haven't insulted your freaky ass legs once!"

you feel better back in the water. you duck your head under and swim ten feet away from the shore, twirling in a figure eight as you refresh your dehydrated body. when you breach the water, sevika's waist deep and scrambling, her hands reaching out as she searches for you in the waves.

she spots you and her shoulders slump in relief. you back away as she starts trudging towards you.

"would you quit swimmin' away, asshole? i'm trying to get to you!" she shouts. you roll your eyes at her but stop swimming, allowing her to doggypaddle over to you.

"you should be careful. the tide'll sweep you out and then you'll be lost at sea aga--mmph!"

sevika cuts you off with a kiss.

you've never kissed anyone before. some of the girls in your pack like to play with their food before they eat-- pressing kisses to enchanted sailors before tearing their throats out-- so you've seen it before. you just never got the hype.

at least not until now. because now, sevika, the pretty woman pirate, is pressing her chapped lips against yours, her warm human hands gently cupping your jaw as she hums against your mouth. now, you feel a whirlpool in your stomach. now, you feel an altogether different kind of hunger for human flesh in your chest. you wanna taste her, so you dart your tongue out to brush against her lips. she moans against you, one of her hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you against her chest. you shudder in her arms. she's strong.

sevika pulls away with a gasp after a while, and you hold onto her shoulders to keep steady as a dizzy feeling swirls in your head.

"i'm sorry." she says. "you're right. you've been nothing but nice to me and i've been a bitch. it's just a lot. i nearly died and then got rescued by a mermaid who chose to save my life and make me breakfast instead of singing me to my final sleep." she says. your eyes are locked on her lips, your tongue licking your own as you watch them move as she speaks. "you're beautiful." she says. "like... devastatingly beautiful. i can see why so many sailors would be allured by you." she says. you smile, your eyes flicking up to hers.

"we don't really eat that many humans, you know. before you guys had boats, our diet was mainly fish." you say. sevika grins.

"so... do you wanna eat some fish with me now?" she asks, gesturing to the tiny mountain of headless fish waiting on the beach. you bite your lip.

"promise you won't kill me and sell my body to scientists or something?" you ask. sevika laughs and kisses you again.

"yeah. 's long as you keep letting me kiss you." she whispers.

those terms seem pretty agreeable to you.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity

[bellysoupset]

Well since Wendy needs some love and I'm on a FaceTime roll (and I may have already asked for this once before, lol), how about a mini-fic where she and Vince are facetiming and he's all burpy and she's getting really flustered, so he embellishes? You can decide whether it turns into actual emeto and/or phone sex or just stays cute and fluffy. (Or if he has to get off the call for some reason suddenly, and she's all grumpy cause now she's got to take care of herself, lol).

😳😳😳😳

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

"Hey gorgeous," Vince's voice was smooth, if a little tired, and Wendy opened a blinding smile. It was an average Wednesday night and she had just gotten home from her interior design classes and was dead on her feet, but most importantly, missing him, "how was your day?"

"Exhaustive," Wendy answered him truthfully, propping her phone against her vanity and sitting before it to start removing her make up. She stole a glance and melted, Vince had put his phone on top of his bedside table and was sitting in the middle of his bed, legs crisscrossed, wearing just his boxers. His curly hair was humid, fresh out of shower and he had a pile of papers near his knee.

"What happened?" he looked up from the papers, picking up a red pen and Wendy cleared her throat, blushing as she was caught gawking on him.

"Nothing," her face was on fire, "nothing, uhm- It was just a long day. My shift started at-" Wendy yawned, squinting her eyes as she did and when she opened them Vince was smiling fondly at her, "started at 6 AM, so I was up before that and just got home now."

"It's a wonder you're even coherent," Vince frowned, "don't you think you're biting off a bit much, Wen? Work every day, plus classes?"

Wendy pouted, this wasn't a new discussion they had. Vince understood she didn't want to just sit at home after work, or at least he said he did, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the sheer amount of stuff she did, "Vin..."

"I'm just saying gi-" he grimaced suddenly and ducked his head, pressing a fist to his lips as a small burp rushed up. Vin wrinkled his nose in distaste, but kept talking as if nothing had happened, "give your body a break, honey."

She cursed herself silently, that such a mundane thing like a little burp was enough to have her cheeks burning. Wendy shook her head, forcing her eyes away from the phone screen and concentrating in removing her mascara, "I don't need a break, I like keeping busy."

"There's busy and there's overworking," Vince pointed out gently and Wendy let out a huff.

"Says the man with a pile of work on the bed," she said sharply and heard a little startled chuckle.

"Okay, I'm nothing if not a hypocrite," he admitted lightly, "but that doesn't change that we're both in the wro-ugh," Wendy's eyes darted to the screen and sure enough Vince was rubbing his chest with an uneasy expression on. She dropped her cotton ball, staring as he patted between his pecs until a small burp came up, "ugh, excuse me. Sorry," Vince looked at the screen and then raised his eyebrows, "damn, honey, that's an intense glare."

Wendy scrambled back slightly, hiding her face with her hands, "sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to be such a perv! I'm-"

"Relax," Vince sounded amused, "relax, Wen, it's okay..."

She lowered her hands, knuckles still pressed to her mouth, and looked at him. Vince raised his eyebrows in a smug way, "I love knowing you still find me hot in every circumstance. Truly, how will I ever be loved like this?"

"Oh shut up," Wendy groaned, but before she could say anything else, Vince planted a hand to his stomach and made a small wince.

"My belly's a little upset."

"Fuck you," Wendy glared at the phone, feeling her face tingle and ears burn, "fuck you so much."

"Bet you wanna," Vince grinned at her, rubbing lazily at his stomach, "it's feeling all... Queasy."

"Shut uuup," Wendy whined, lowering her head in shame and heard her boyfriend let out a chuckle.

"You're adorable," his voice was brimming with glee, "really, though, dinner isn't sitting well. I went over to my parent's today and Soph pushed half her plate in mine, it's feeling heavy as hell."

Wendy bit at her lip, raising her head to look at him, "you're faking it."

"I'm not," Vince shook his head, "it's just some indigestion, I'm sure, but I'm not faking."

"Uhmm...," She breathed in deeply, trying collect herself, "well, get some tums, they'll help. What are you working on?"

"Essays about ancient Rome," Vince patted the pile of paper, successfully distracted from his mission at giving her a stroke, "I asked the kids to pick their favorite roman figure we learned about and write a small essay."

"The kids or the teens?"

"The kids," Vince rolled his eyes, moving on the bed so he was propped against the pillows and grabbing the papers. Wendy returned to the task at hand, taking the phone and getting up, bringing him to the bathroom with her. She heard Vince start to babble about the figures picked and smiled, heart fluttering at the clear excitement in his voice.

She grabbed a cleansing foam to get rid of all the vestiges and her electric facial brush, leaning against the sink as she watched Vince flip through the pages, "Ellie picked Nero," he said with a huge smile that almost showed his molars, "she's eleven."

"How many picked the wrong Mark Anthony?" Wendy joked and Vince let out a chuckle, fiddling through the papers.

"At least one-" halfway through his sentence Vince's mouth snapped shut and he gulped down, paling considerably since Wendy was able to notice even though his room wasn't brightly lit. She felt her mouth dry up.

"Vin?"

Instead of answering her, he held up a finger and turned his head, eyes squeezed shut.

Wendy squirmed, turning off the electrical brush and planting it on the sink, staring at her phone intently.

Vince gulped down once more, before letting up a thick, wet belch, his face turned away from the phone. There was no way he was faking that, Wendy thought, as she heard the noise of liquid splashing in his throat, but him forcing it down.

"Honey?"

"Oof," Vince had a displeased grimace on, "ew. Dinner's definitely messing with me."

"Maybe-" she couldn't string up a thought together, "maybe your- your mom used milk?"

Vince winced at the thought, looking more queasy than before, "I hope not," he said bitterly, lowering the papers away and planting a hand on the swell of his stomach. He pressed his fingers in gently and Wendy sucked in a breath as she heard his belly gurgle even through the phone.

"Fuck," she whispered, turning to wash the cleaning foam off her cheeks, while in the phone Vince laughed.

"I swear I'm not trying to mess with you," he said and Wendy splashed some of the cold water on her nape, feeling like her whole body was overheated.

"Trying or not, it's working," she admitted, past feeling embarrassed, squeezing her legs together, "aren't you gonna take something to settle it?"

He shrugged, "and miss out you looking at me as if I'm blasting porn in your screen?"

Wendy glared at him, "you're gonna keep feeling sick just to embarrass me?"

"Embarrass you?" Vince frowned now, "honey, I'm not trying to embarrass you, I'm just enjoying seeing you this turned on. If you want I can hang up..."

"NO!" She said too quickly, scrambling and causing her phone to fall down against her soap dispenser. Wendy retrieved it quickly, "no, no, don't hang up."

"Yeah?" Vince smiled, although he still looked a little unsure and Wendy shook her head vehemently, walking back to her bed and falling into it, her skincare routine be damned.

"Don't hang up," she shuffled on the bed, changing her phone to her left hand and sliding her right one under the hem of her pants, "talk to me? How are you feeling?" her voice dropped a whole note and Vince's hesitance vanished in a split second, his dark eyes getting a hungry look, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Really, really bad..."

[kittlesandbugs]

FHR: Animal instincts Pairing: Chargestep Warnings: Canon typical violence and suicide ideation, and Sidestep is not in a great frame of mind fresh out of the Farm Word Count: 1103 Summary: Just a little bit of "Sidestep was found by Ortega shortly after escaping the Farm the second time" AU, Riley is having a great time lol

"Riley?" 

Flinch and freeze and no, keep going, don't falter, don't react, keep walking. Just a twitch you can smooth over feigning ignorance. No one knows you by that name anymore, and if they think they do, you'll fix them. It doesn't take much, you know that now. A tweak, a twist, a pull, you unravel the threads and become less than a memory. Less than a ghost. 

Lower your shield, open your mind, find that spark of recognition and cut the memory loose. It's just a tumor on their recollection, to be excised and—

Hand on your shoulder. 

Static-walled brain. 

Scream. 

Yours. Turn on your heel, throw a fist, soft flesh, startled grunt, pivot and run run run run. They can't catch you again, can’t trap you again. You won't let them, all you have to do is run! 

“Riley!” 

Heavy footsteps run behind you, but you're no rabbit now, you're the fox. You duck into an alley, throw a garbage can, hear the crash and stumble and swear. Good, like that, you'll escape, and if they corner you, well, you still have the gun. 

Use it on them or use it on yourself, either way you get away. 

“Riley, wait!” 

The name makes you flinch again. You, not, not you, you're nameless, name forgotten, number shucked. Riley plummeted to her death, forgotten, betrayed, alone. You're not her. Just no one. You need to be no one, no one at all, nothing, nothing of import, nothing worth perceiving. You need to not be, not until you're ready. 

But your pursuer won't let you go. 

They're gaining again, fuck, they're fast, the footsteps almost loud enough to drown the wet thuds of your own heartbeat in your ears. Your breath wheezes loud in your chest. Your muscles burn as you push through crowds that can't see you because you won't let them. You're a visage of your former self. Not yet fully recovered from years of isolation and wasting misery. The only thing sharp about you is your mind, and your pursuer is immune. 

You dart down another alley, trying to get away from the crowds so you can move and—

FUCK. 

Bouncing off a fresh and new brick wall, instinct recognizes your fatal blunder just soon enough to stop you from concussing yourself on it. You land on your ass, breathless, arms aching from taking most of the impact for your skull. What was a throughway four years ago is a deadend now. 

And now, you are too. Dead. Worse. Trapped. 

You shake your head to clear it, scrabbling around, backed up against the brick like if you pressed hard enough, you could phase through it. You fumble through your disheveled clothes, your hand seeking and closing on cold metal as you fight to free the gun from the holster hidden beneath layers of loose fabric. You're such an idiot. 

A shadow looms over you, features darkened by the blinding halo of the sun slowly sinking into the cityscape behind it. “Jesus, Riley, what's—” 

The voice mercifully stops, as does the approaching figure, as you finally, finally, train the gun on them. Your hands are shaking, unsteady as you feel, but you know where the heart is, and you won't miss it. You can't. 

“Hey. Hey, c'mon. Put that thing down. It's me, Riley.”

The voice is low and soft, like someone trying to soothe and cajole a dog on the verge of biting. Something familiar wiggles in your hindbrain like a parasite, and you refuse to let it latch on. Your hands shake harder as the figure tries to subtly inch forward. Too hyper aware of everything to let it slip by, you cock the gun. 

The hands are quick to come up, open and empty, placating and pleading. “Whoa, easy, easy…” He—your brain admits that now— he says softly, his voice raw like an exposed nerve. “It's just me, c'mon Riley…”

You know that voice. You know that stance. You know him. You lo—  no. You hate him. You pulse thuds louder and wetter in your ears, drowning out his attempt to soothe and de-escalate. Your eyes flood with burning salt, blurring your vision, but you can't wipe or blink it away. You should shoot him. You want to. He didn't try to save you, him or Steel, the other Rangers, the other vigilantes, all the rest of this fucking city. They all left you to rot and scream and suffer in the obscurity of the lab that made you just so it could eat you alive and spit out your bones. 

But he keeps inching forward, talking in that low and familiar tone that was always like novocaine to your fractious mind. Knees bending, he lowers himself down in front of you where you sprawl against the cold unforgiving brick. You train the barrel on his skull with a choked animal noise of distress, unable to put any more distance between you. And he just lets you do it, looking over your clenched and shaking hands with that heavy familiar hound-brown gaze. 

“What happened to you? Dios mio, you're a wreck,” he says, his soft voice cracking as he takes in your sorry state. He doesn't flinch as you press the cold metal to his forehead, cocked and loaded and ready to blow whatever brains he has out onto the street. 

You should. You should put a final nail in the coffin of your past. You see the weight of the last few years in the bags under his eyes and the harder plains of his face, smell it on the heavy alcohol in his breath. Your index finger strokes the trigger. Your hands shake so hard that you just might depress it by accident. Maybe you should just put you both out of your sad sorry miseries.

He just looks at you, that same way he always did. Like he has all the faith in the world you'll make the right call. Like you can do no wrong in his eyes. Like you hold his heart between your sweating quivering palms, and he'd let you… he'd let you… 

The realization makes you recoil like you'd been struck across the face, and the gun clatters to the asphalt. By some miracle, it doesn't misfire from the impact. He swipes it away, out of both your reaches. Before you can scramble away from him like the feral animal you are, he pulls you in tight against his chest. Caught in the trap of him, exhausted and weak, all you can do is bury your face in his shoulder and howl.

[peach-and-bugs]

teen nat with “You look exhausted, you know that?” ?? (maybe pre-crash)

❤️Blame Game - Natalie Scatorccio (1996 pre-crash) x fem!Reader❤️

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

GIF by gayliennn

Summary: Natalie seeks refuge from the rain (and possibly comfort) after the death of her dad...

Warnings: canon themes: dead parents, spousal abuse, guns, general angst

Word Count: 2,539

A/N: Hello Lovelies! it's been a minute. I was so busy this past semester, but I'm now on summer break and I want to get back to work on my writing with requests for dialogue prompts with characters with Yellowjackets! here's my first dabble at writing for the fandom with pre-crash Natalie! I really hope you enjoy it, and as always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading ❤️

"Nat" Natalie Scatorccio Tag List:

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-❤️-

It had been raining for most of the afternoon by now, which you had found strange given the sun being so high when you'd left school. But the rain persisted into the night and you now found yourself sitting at your desk, scribbling away in your diary about your day and just general thought and feelings. You'd found that even when you had a mundane day, writing was still good. It helped keep up the habit for when you needed the outlet. 

You started to run out of things to say and instead began to chew at the eraser of your pencil. One of your cassettes played quietly in your walkmen, but you could still hear the rain’s muffled tapping on the roof over the song. However, as you moved to start scribbling again, maybe adding doodles to your entry instead of more words, your attention was caught by a different tapping. It was sporadic and out of tune with the rain and it paused as though some other element controlled it. 

Cautiously, you paused your song and listened. The tapping started again, clicking against the glass of your window. When there wa another pause you made your way over to it and opened it with caution. You paused again, licking your lips and biting your cheek. Why did this feel like the start of every slasher movie? Maybe youde watched those Halloween movies too many times. 

“Hey, y/n! That you?” a familiar voice broke through the rain. Without any more hesitation, your head poked out of the open window, hands gripping the windowsill as the rain began to wet your hair. 

“Nat?” you called in a whispery yell. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night?” thanks to your porch light you could see her fidgeting, hugging herself as she crumpled under the rain. She opened her mouth like she wanted to talk, but stopped herself. 

“Can I come up?” she said instead. You hesitated again, head going back inside as you checked the time. It was nearly one in the morning by now. Your father would be furious if he found out, but it was Nat after all, it was pouring and you knew she had to have walked here. You huffed, your brows knit as you nodded, ducking your head back into the house ans shutting the window behind you before running downstairs as quietly as you could. You quietly unlocked your front door, pausing after it clicked open to listen for the sound of any unexpected movement. When nothing turned up you opened the door just as Natalie stepped onto your front porch. 

“Be quiet and wipe your feet,” you insisted in a hushed voice, eyes already training on the staircase once more. You unconsciously took her hand tight and sprinted as quietly as you could up the stairs and ducked into your room, shutting it with the softest click you could mister. You shut your eyes, listening against the door for any sign you might have woken your parents, but once you felt it was all clear you relaxed with a sigh and turned back to look out on your room. 

“You didn’t have to let me up if I was gonna get you in trouble,” Natalie mumbled. She’d begun to fidget where she stood, her thumb stroking over the strap of her soaked backpack. She didn’t move from where she stood and seemed to avoid making eye contact with you or anything in the room for that matter. 

“It’s running outside and you’re soaked,” she shrugged, eyes turning down to her dripping shoes. 

“I don't wanna put you out’s all,” your eyes transfixed on her in the quiet. She didn’t look at you for any of it but in the short time you stood awkwardly in front of you you could tell something was wrong. You knew Nat well. Well, maybe not this Natalie specifically, but you knew the Natalie from middle school who had sleepovers at your house nearly every Saturday and loved playing board games with your family and stopping for secret ice cream with you on the way home from school. That all had been some time ago, but you knew her, and even with all that she’d hanged that Natalie was still in her. You saw her right then. 

“You doing ok? You seem off,” you inquired, slowly approaching her like she was a skittish dog. She looked up finally, slightly geared by the sudden proximity change, but she relaced as your reached for her fidgety hand. She let you take it, watching the tenderness in your motion. She hated being fragile. 

“My dad’s gone,” she breathed, biting her lower lip. She’d been doing it for a while now. The skin of it was dry and chapped, red from repeated tearing away at the layering resulting in a swollen tenderness. 

“I’m sorry. For good this time?” you weren't sure that was the right question to ask. Natalie’s dad always had a tendency to come and go, but given her demeanor either it was over or something else was going on. She sniffed heavily and let out a dry laugh as she jerked her eyes from you. 

“Yeah, well seeing he put a bullet in his head I’d say it’s for good,” she pressed her lips together, sucking her teeth at the bitter sting, and exhaled hard through her nose. She swallowed hard before she shakily turned her eyes back to you. She tisked at the expression on your face and felt your hand tighten around hers. “Fuck, I'm sorry, I shouldn't unload on you like that I-”

“Hey, no it’s ok. It’s fine. I’m sorry,” you reached and grabbed hold of her other hand ans squeezed tight, forcing an awkward smile. “Do you want clothes to change into? You’re sopping wet,” she shook her head but you tisked. 

“I'm getting you clothes ans you aren't arguing,” you turned from her and sauntered to your dresser, wrassling around in your drawers for anything comfortable for her to wear. Unbeknownst to you, Natalie was looking down at her hand, squeezing them into fists before she rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans. She never liked clammy hands. You turned back to her eventually, shoving the pile of clothes in her hands. “Batheroom’s where it’s always been,” you pointed to the door that connected to your room.  

“And feel free to dry off with a towel. Are you spending the night?” you rushed most of what you said, adrenaline pumping through you at an alarming rate as you tried to keep your cool. Nat eventually nodded awkwardly and made her way to the bathroom. The click of the door allowed you to let go of the hot breath that had been boiling in your stomach. Her dad was gone? Like, gone, gone. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? Well, maybe not given how upset she seemed. You never would have thought of Nat to be the type to mourn her father, cruel as that may sound. And why had she come to your house of all places? She hadn’t talked to you in years. She’d gotten so committed to the soccer team that she’d moved away from you but here she was now, dropping the bomb that her dad had killed himself.

“You alright?” Nat opening the door and talking to you had pulled you out of your head. She’d dried her hair off with a towel and was now draping it over the floor to sit her bookbag on top of it to dry. Her brown hair was tousled and knotted from what you assumed had been her vigorous rubbing to dry off. She’d folded her clothes in a pile that she added next to her bookbag and stood awkwardly barefoot in a pair of old shorts and a baggy tee shirt that used to be your dad’s. 

“Yeah, I'm good,” you smiled, standing again. “You want some socks? The hardwood gets cold,” you said as you actively moved to grab a pair of fuzzy socks you'd gotten for Christmas from one of your drawers. You shoved them in her hands before she could decline. She held them for a moment, unmoving despite the gentle sway of her thumb over the cotton material before leaning over to put them on. As she did that you took her clothes and draped them over the footboard of your bed to air out. 

“Are you staying over?” you asked again. You knew if she said no you'd still keep her here. You didn't want to worry about her out in the rain again. 

“Only if that's alright,” you smiled with a single nod.

“Of course. It can be like before,” you chuckled, turning to adjust things on your bed. You might have caught the tiny flicker in Nat’s lips had you been looking. But you hadn’t and climbed into bed instead, shimmying under the covers to get comfortable. Nat slowly followed but lay on her back over the blankets, folding her hands on her chest. You only watched her for some time, not knowing what subject to broach, if any at all.  

“You look exhausted, you know that?” you eventually murmured. Nat turned her head to you and let out a warm sigh. Her eyes seemed sunken, bags growing dark under them. You wondered how much she’d been sleeping. 

“That kinda happens when-” she stopped herself abruptly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No…” her voice lulled to a whisper as she paused. That pause felt like it lasted hours till she sniffled. “Maybe a little,” she swallowed thickly. You scooted in closer to her, reaching your hand out t her ever so lightly to wordlessly offer it to you. 

“It was my fault,” you shook your head. 

“Nat. you’re seventeen,” she sniffled loudly and quickly dried her tears just as they fell from her eyes. She didn’t look at you, her eyes transfixed up at your ceiling in a feeble attempt to keep herself together. 

“I grabbed the gun. He wouldn't have had it had I not,” 

“It’s not your fault,”

“He was beating on my mom again because I had a boy in my room,” frustrated disdain filled her tone. “And it’s not like anything was happening! I mean, it was just Kevyn,” she scoffed at his name. Unbeknownst to Natalie, you knew the boy had the biggest crush on her known to man. How she didn’t realize it baffled you, but that wasn’t relevant at the moment. 

“But I grabbed the gun. And I left the safety on and he took it from me and fucked around with it,”

“Natalie,” you kept your voice low. Her breathing had started to flair as she fully cried now. You took her hand, squeezing it tight. She didn’t look at you but unconsciously clenched both her fists around your fingers, and brought them to her chest, pressing it tight to her in some kind of attempt to ground yourself maybe. “Natalie, Who had the gun?” she managed to get out. She sniffled again. She would have called it pitiful, but you basked in the sound. Not in a weird way, but because she could trust you with this. She shook her head. 

“Did you shoot him?” her breath shook as she took a deep inhale.

“He did,” 

“So, who’s fault it that?” she turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut as she covered her mouth to suppress a sob. She let go of your hand and turned onto her side, leaving only her heaving shoulders in your view. You scooted out of bed, moving slowly behind her. She flinched as your fingertips made contact with her back, but you found she quickly relaxed under her touch as you began rubbing your hand in circles over the surface area. 

“Nat, it was his fault,” you murmured. She continued to cry, curled into a ball on the edge of your bed. You weren't even sure if she was hearing any of what you said, but you didn’t feel you should prioritize that. You stayed that way with her for a while, till you maneuvered onto your side, laying behind her and wrapping your arm around her instead of continuing to massage your back. You felt her take your hand again, bringing your fingers close to her face.  She seemed to bury her face in your hand in some feeble attempt at self-soothing. 

Eventually, she turned around in your arms and found herself up close and personal with you. Thanks to the dim light she prayed you wouldn't see the red in her cheeks burning from the sudden proximity. She let go of your hand quite abruptly. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, eyes darting away. You only smiled and nodded, scanning her puffy, tear-streaked face. Without giving it much thought, you reached forward, brushing loose, now dry hair from her face. Your fingertips skimmed over her forehead with a delicateness Nat couldn't find herself familiar with. 

“You look exhausted, you know that?” she shrugged but locked into your gaze. 

“I’ve always been like that,” she forced a chuckle but found you frowning. You thumbed away leftover tears from her eyes ans found your hand lingering. When you noticed you made the motion of pulling away from her but she grabbed your hand, holding it where it was. She bit her bottom lip, her brows knitting with overwhelming consideration till she hissed out the words “fuck it” and leaned it. 

She’d let go of your hand in exchange for the back of your neck, which fit quite comfortably against the flat of her palm. She’d shut her eyes hard and had kind of clumsily crashed into you, definitely taking you by surprise. For a second it was quite startling, but you didn’t panic or pull away. But once you got over the shock, you relaxed into her, smiling against her lips, which given their chapped nature left a metallic taste against your tongue. 

You’re hand, which had been hovering above the covers after being abandoned slowly settled on Natalie’s hip as you shut your eyes and you felt her exhale through her nose as the air flittered against your cheek. Yet, just as fast as she’d moved in she was done, leaving your lips to chase after her. Her eyes were wide and blown when you opened yours again and she seemed to have a grimace on her face. 

“Shit, was I that bad?” you sucked in a breath through your teeth. Her grimace subsided and she shook her head, now looking confused. 

“No. I was more so waiting for you to be pissed with me,” she admitted. You smiled and laughed quietly. 

“Why would I be mad?”

“I dunno, I kinda just did it and I didn’t ask-”

“Didn’t ask if I liked girls?” 

“Do you?” she chuckled again, scooting closer to her. 

I dunno, I might. I mean, I might at least like one girl,”

“That's so fucking corny,” Natalie finally smiled, letting go of a laugh in her throat. 

“Yeah, but I got you to smile finally,” you squeezed her hip. “I consider that a win in my book,”

[pumpkingas]

Eprocto thoughts abt spooky creatures (⁠｡⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠｡⁠)

Tw: Dub/con, Necrophilia ?(Cuz... Zombies)

Zombie 🧟

Literally unable to control their bowels, being dead you don't have the most control over your body...

That sloppy loose spinchter would absolutely collect air, causing constant windy farts, and even though they function as on-command farts the smell would still be HORRID from simply passing through zombie cheeks.

Skin is probably rotting which is gross HOWEVER... It'd be extra soft and elastic, you could knead it like dough, maybe help work some of that trapped air out??

Maybe they're sentient but still hungry?? Maybe you're a zombie lover and collect piles of rotting meat from the dumpsters behind grocery stores to take to your zombie pal?? Maybe they over indulge and lie down with a huge bulging gut that stretches way beyond living limits??? Maybe bubbly farts slip out of their ass as they groan and pant??? Maybe all the blood from that red meat sends them into a burping fit???

Werewolf 🌕

I think we can all agree werewolf diets are GNARLY, if not for being their soulmate/Luna/omega (and so on and so forth), they'd probably eat YOU if given the chance. Expect your freezer to be emptied out obviously, but also your refrigerator and cabinets. Raw meat, deli meat and nut bars will start to go missing, but soon it will be sauce bottles, leftovers with freezer burn, jars of olives and all kinds of pickled foods. Their breath will quickly smell like vomit if you don't own a werewolf proof kiddie gate.

Although they have stomachs of steel and likely wouldn't experience stomach troubles or bloating, you'll quickly become witness to the nastiest farts ever released into the atmosphere. They'd range from loud and quick duck quacks to long rumbling motor engine farts. The smell might not compare to rotting meat levels but werewolf stench will NEVER leave you, it will singe your nose hairs, coat your walls, sink into your fabrics, even soak into leather, like a skunk gone wrong.

Even if they're in their human form that ass is still going to be COVERED in hair, no matter the age, gender, sex, whatever, what's a wereWOLF without its fur? And how willing are you to spend hours helping a gassy werewolf wash the jungle in-between their fat cheeks?

If you're in its pack or are at least a candidate to join you HAVE to be scented, can't walk around like you're just anyone's human! Maybe it's a thrilling loving process where your werewolf lover sits on your naked form and carefully pushes fart after fart onto each and every body part of yours. Or maybe it's a secretive process from a werewolf that hasn't revealed itself yet, helping with the laundry just to rub your clothing against their crack, working up a sweat so they can drain the sweat drops into your body spray, shampoo and lotion. Taking a nap with your toothbrush between their ass so each bristle will be stained with their scent...

Vampires 🦇

Farts are quiet and SBDs are frequent but not mandatory, usually their gas releases in sort of a hum that vibrates whatever they're sitting on or laying against. Perhaps they have a form of fart echolocation, maybe you've planned a surprise party for a vampire as they got bored of birthdays after their 121st, and instead of reaching for the light switch they just begin to let out bubbly farts as they move around their home.

If you offer your neck to a vampire you better be aware of your diet, if the vampires lactose intolerant you better watch your dairy, if they're sensitive to raw vegetables you'd better cook yours thoroughly, and for the love of anything don't give a vegan vampire your meat eater blood, unless of course you'd like to see them grasp at their stomach and groan, releasing uncharacteristically loud farts and moaning shamelessly...

Suppose this is a vampire that's taken a liking to you, naturally you'll begin to bond with them and it'd intensify after each bite, but the thing is, there isn't exactly a limit to human devotion. One day a vampire could be nothing but someone you cross on the street who makes your heart flutter with no memory of what occurred the night before, and a year later that vampire could be your beloved owner that only speaks to you in commands, whenever they need a chair you're bending over before they can finish their sentence, and when the smell of their own gas begins to bother them how could you not dive between their cheeks and smell it?

[siconetribal]

Put It On My Tab: Chapter 10

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag:

@vbecker10 @wordsfromthemoon @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali

Warning:

Banter, Fluff, Wit, Book-nerdiness, and more floof

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check the master list for the previous chapters!

Jason watched her turn her mug in circles, press a napkin to make it smooth, and shift her plate as if to find the perfect lighting to make her pastry most photogenic. One half of her lower lip was imprisoned by her teeth, the other half jutting out to the side. It was not hard for him to conclude that she was nervous, which made him curious. What does she have to say about what Cici said? How serious could it be? Maybe she’s embarrassed about the bill? Wait, if she brings it up I can insist on paying!

“So ,” Y/N finally spoke up after what felt like hours of silence. “I have been in a dicey situation because of the Joker and his gang of clowns. Wrong time, wrong place, sorta deal.” She paused again, but shorter this time. “I have been hit by his Joker Venom, but I was treated in time. It was a gas and it wasn’t one of the more lethal variants or long enough exposure to be permanently disabling. It’s…not something I talk about either. Cici wasn't trying to lie or cause trouble the day you came in. She was trying to help me out, because I recognized you.”

Great , she recognized me right away and I was just chasing 1’s and 0’s in a useless IP address! His lips scrunched to the side as he slouched in his seat, his pride was thoroughly bruised. 

“Don't pout, I was having a bad day, well week, and she was just trying to help me jot deal with another thing, and ended up blurting that out. So no, I’m not some lunatic because of it and yes, I’m perfectly normal, because who isn’t a little traumatized when living in Gotham City, right?”

“I would say ‘or insanely rich’, but they tend to be the actual targets and commoners like myself end up in the crosshairs.” She hesitantly added, seeing no flare of anger or annoyance, she sat up and took a bite of her flaky pastry of choice. 

“Are you sure ‘perfectly normal’ is the best term for you?” He grumbled. “You recognized me and did your damndest to be unrecognizable, why? You even got your friend in on it and made me think you're someone,” his voice steadily grew louder and his tone harsher as he sat up straight while she steadily shrank back into her seat, ducking her head to avoid looking at him. Shit , not what I wanted to do! “ Forget it , who am I to get pissed at a little white lie? I’m no stranger to bad days either.” Like being held hostage and left for dead by the Joker. He quickly deflated back in his seat. His foot lightly nudged against hers, making her jump and look up. “I also think anyone who isn't traumatized living here is either off their rocker or they've only just moved in.” His gaze softened as he smiled, coaxing her to relax with him again.

“Being rich comes with its own style of batshit crazy.” He rolled his eyes. Like throwing cash around for giant galas to make yourselves feel better about ‘charity’ which will obviously attract all the other criminals in Gotham. The only difference between them is that one group is considered legal.

 “Speaking of rich, you’re a Wayne, right?” Jason’s eyebrows shot up quickly before crashing down and furrowing together. “Cici told me, I was helping her with the drinks that day and she told me to not call it.” She quickly explained. “But that aside, what do I call you? Little Lordling? Littler Wayne? Wayne Jr the second? Wayne 3.0? There are a bunch of you, right? You're the second one, I suppose you'd be Wayne 2, or are you 3 because Bruce Wayne would be 1?” She thought aloud, watching his left eye twitch with each nickname she came up with. It was still oh so satisfying to see.

“Yes, I am an adopted son of Bruce Wayne and no , you can’t call me any of those.” His voice shook as his smile became a little strained, a little bit of a grumble in the undertones.

“Aww, not even ‘Little Lordling’? I thought that one would’ve won.” She pouted. The way her lower lip puffed and pushed out was adorable, but Jason needed to be strong. There's no way he was going to let anyone call him that. It would be the end of him if any of the other Bats heard of this. “So what do I call you by, oh nameless capeless savior?”

“How about you just call me by my name? Which you could’ve just asked me for instead of doing all this.” He rolled his left hand in the air as he gestured to the oddity that was this conversation

“It is absotively posolutely rude to demand such information! To ask without offering something of equal value is simply barbaric!” She scoffed and he snorted while trying to stop himself from choking on his drink. “Also, where's the fun in that? Now you'll remember me the next time you see me, you won't be so thrown off.” The smug grin on her face was frustratingly adorable and pleasantly annoying, he was not sure if he wanted to wipe it off her face or give her something else to gloat about. 

“And charging someone for asking questions is not memorable enough?” One of his eyebrows rose up in question. “I feel like we’re well past dinner and a movie first.”

“Who says that's my cup of tea? Maybe I'm a video games and books kind of gal?” She raised an eyebrow of her own in challenge to him.

Damn, games and books? “Well you’re in luck. I’m a bit of both myself.” He smirked. 

Oh that is cheating! You can't go looking like this, be a Wayne, and be into those! I’m trying to ask you for 4k, not a wedding ring! Her eyes narrowed as she leaned in closer. “There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

“‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen, not bad.” Jason took a bite of his sandwich. Not bad, not bad. “There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm,” he calmly replied.

“‘The Song of the Lark’, huh, ‘a bit’ is what you said, right?” Y/N sat back. “Consider me impressed again, Wonder Boy.”

“Quit calling me that,” he grumbled as his eye twitched.

“I have nothing else to call you.”

“Then call me by name.”

“I don't have your name.”

“You could ask.”

“That’d be rude, of course. We haven’t properly met.” She smirked.

“And how do we properly meet?” He leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table.

“Dinner and a good book.”

“Are you asking or telling?”

“That depends, do you prefer me to ask or tell?” She leaned in closer as well.

“Doesn’t matter to me, so long as you say yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he grinned. “I guess it’s settled then. Now all I need is your number.”

“Wait, what? My number?” She sat back a little in surprise.

“Yes, your number, how else am I going to get in touch with you?” He extended a hand towards her and she, still confused at what just happened, robotically handed over said device, the screen unlocked. He quickly sent himself a text through her phone and saved his number in hers. “Thanks, sweetheart, I’ll be sending you the details later. On that note, I gotta run. See ya,” he winked and finished his drink before heading out, Y/N sitting there mouth agape and utterly confused. The bell chimed again before she could even process any of it as she quickly cleaned up and got behind the counter once more, the rev of a motorcycle fading into the distance.