#warm weather girl in a cold weather world </3

[br1ghtestlight]

not gonna make fun of californians etc for finding 13c (57f) degrees cold right now because you dont have heating or coats or whatever but u cant make fun of me in the summer when i complain about 25c (77f) tempetures because we dont have air conditioning Like we're all getting our asses beat by climate change we dont need the infighting. I think you're ridiculous and you think i am ridiculous and thats okay <3 #coexist

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - the 141 find a cozy place to stay during an op (that's definitely all that happens). implied fat!reader

(dubcon, poly, gangbang, anal, price is in charge of everyone<3)

So blizzards can happen in the blink of an eye on high, isolated mountains, right?

And the 141 have done missions in rural places, snowy places, mountainous places, right?

And there are tons of tiny little isolated towns, all over the world, built around these mountains for one reason or another - coal mining, logging, etc.

Now imagine the 141 on a mission, somewhere cold, somewhere isolated, a place that feels like the edge of the world. Desolate.

Now imagine the 141 seeing, in the near distance, a winking pale orange light. It's a good enough place as any to approach - it isn't safe to be caught in this blizzard, anyhow. Even with their gear, the safehouse is still an hour away and the snowfall seems historic...

Now imagine you're sitting in your family home, all alone, going a little crazy with cabin fever. Your woodstove is burning hot, but you're still cuddled up in knits and a thermal underneath. You're making stew for dinner with root vegetables from the basement cellar, it's bubbling and softening for you while you crochet, trying to keep your mind off the monumental shoveling task you'll have to deal with tomorrow

Until there's a knock on the door.

"Hello ma'am, I'm just wondering if me and my friends here could rest until it's safe to continue our hike?" (I love the way gaz says ma'am)

Hike? Nobody hikes up here - you've only ever seen a couple tourists in your life, thrill seeking ice climbers who came and went.

And they certainly weren't dressed in snow camo, hiding guns behind their backs.

But you were raised right, and the man at the door has kind eyes - he's handsome, too, but you'd never say it out loud. Gaz pushes the door further in when you tentatively open it, and in comes barreling three more massive men, their boots stomping and leaving a mess.

Soap smells the stew on the stove and beelines for it, lifting his helmet to inhale deeply.

Ghost sweeps the room like it might be hiding an enemy somewhere- even though it's one room total, the stove in the middle, separating the kitchen and your bed.

Price approaches you all apologetic, apologizing for "these ruffians", holding his camo helmet to his gut like it's formalwear. "Apologies, sweetheart, we weren't expecting the weather to turn on us."

You aren't quite sure how you end up sitting on prices lap, naked except for your socks, while he squeezes your stomach and grunts in your ear not to be shy when putting your weight on him. His other hand is cupped over your pussy, murming thank yous for feeding his men.

They're eating your stew, stripped out of gear, cocks tented in their white cargos.

"We're a gaggle of lucky boys, eh?" Soap says. "Nice, cozy, soft girl. Warm cabin. A man could get used to this."

You wind up pressed down on your mattress, hands held behind you by one man while another fucks you hard, spurred on by price behind them. At first, it's johnny, whining high in his throat while price guides his hips and gaz holds your arms by your head. "Need to thank her proper, boy." The obvious authority in prices voice makes your pussy clench around him, and he shakes over you, trying hard not to come too early.

Gaz reaches down from where he's holding your arms, pinching your clit until you buck against Johnny and squirt around him.

Then it's gaz, who lifts your legs and squeezes your big thighs, locking eyes with ghost. He's steady, only breaking composure when Simon praises him. "Thats a lad. Good, just like that, Kyle." He's the first to ever make you come from penetration alone, hips moving in a way that makes your abdomen tighten and tighten and tighten until you reach the longest orgasm of your life, nearly crying with how intense it feels.

Price ends up flipping you over - nudging you up on your hands and knees, the bed creaking with the combined weight of he and his lieutenant taking their places in front and behind you.

Simon slips his cock in your mouth, staring down at you through the balaclava. You can barely make out a thick scar, one that looks like it might go through his whole face. You lose focus when price pushes his fingers in your ass, though, and you squeal.

There's no where to run except further down simons cock, though, where you gag, spit running all down your chest onto the bed.

"Shh, sh," Price rubs your flank like you're a spooked animal. He squeezes the ample flesh of your asscheek appreciatively. "Jus wanna give your poor pussy a break, aye? I reckon she's tired,"

He pushes into you impatiently and it burns a little, but he soothes it with a palm over your soft, sore cunt. Rubs a thumb over your clit slowly, jostling you back and forth over simons cock.

You come once more before the night is over, tears finally running down your cheeks, mixing with your saliva, with simons come. It's a painful orgasm, wrenched from you - but that makes it all the sweeter.

They wipe you down and spoon feed you more stew, after, to recover your energy :') price has the boys tidy their boot tracks and put away leftovers while he and Simon hold you from both sides. They can barely fit with you on your bed, but tucked in like this - on top of your furs, naked as the day you were born, praised for your soft body and "What a good girl you are, babydoll."

Sigh

I'm sure this idea has probably been written but I was listening to this and couldn't stop imagining it lmfao

[teddiesworldd]

after the world ends.

ghost finds you out in the woods during a zombie outbreak and falls in love with you. (2.6K words) read part 2 here!!!

a/n: this idea has been on my mind for a while and it was so sweet i just had to write it down and share it with you <3 also, if you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!

pairing: simon ghost riley x female reader

tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni!!, apocalypse au, mentions of weapons, killing (zombies), survival situation, unprotected p in v sex, cute fluffy stuff in the middle of a zombie apocalypse because why not?!, soap makes an appearance

day 17 of the apocalypse, 3 weeks after the first outbreak.

you had lasted this long purely by camping out in the back of your car, driving somewhere more remote to avoid the infected and rationing whatever you'd managed to bring in from your kitchen at the beginning of it all. but as supplies got low and you were down to your last water bottle, you were forced to venture out into the nearby woodland, gathering whatever you could forage from the streams and bushes. you knew absolutely nothing about surviving out here. you couldn’t hunt and could barely light a fire. the first day of winter was in less than a month and you had no real shelter to keep you warm. you had no idea which berries were safe to eat or how to filter water. all you had was your kitchen silverware for protection and your best winter jacket for the weather.

you’d last about 2 weeks out here at best, and that’s without the fucking zombies. 

you'd been walking for about an hour since leaving your car, and to be honest, you didn’t think you could find your way back now. everything looked the same. you had found only a pocketful of what you could only guess was edible, and a protein bar from the pocket of a dead guy’s jeans. every single noise scared the hell out of you. and the bite marks on his neck raised your adrenaline tenfold. 

thud. thud. snap.

footsteps. sticks breaking underfoot. 

“who’s there?” you called out. “i’m- i’m serious, come any closer and… and… i’ll kill you!”, shouting now, cold hand gripping your rusted kitchen knife tightly.

you saw a huge figure behind the trunk of a nearby tree, and he chuckled lowly at your brave attempt to scare him away. “you don’t scare me, sweetheart”, the voice said, deep and rough, walking out from behind the tree, “thought y'were a rabbit or something - cute lil' thing, rustling in those bushes. and if i was infected, you’d be dead by now, with a mouth on you like that.”

he was an absolute giant of a man, 6 and a half foot at least and built like a brick shithouse. he was in full military gear, skull mask over his face, armed with a rifle in hand and knives strapped to his chest and belt. he approached you slowly, palms facing you like he was trying not to spook a stray cat. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating - you'd not been sleeping well from the nightmares of the infected night after night.

“no use shouting, anyway - they’ll find you straight away making all that noise.” he continued, leaves crunching under his black boots, walking closer, “what’s a girl like you doing out 'ere, all alone?”

you were frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. he was already intimidating as fuck without the massive armoury hanging round his waist, but now he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. a thought crossed your mind that if he tried to kill you now, there would be absolutely nothing you could do to stop him. it made a shiver run down your back.

his gloved hand reached out to hold your chin. you looked up at him, eyes welling up from the pure fear that ran through you.

“lost?” he said quietly, tilting his head to get a proper look at you. 

you nodded slowly.

“well, you won’t get far with that old thing, love” he smirked through the mask, eyeing the blade in your hand. “here, i’ll take you back to camp with me, make you a proper meal, yeah? when did you eat last?”

you engaged in some light small talk on the way, finding out he was called “ghost” and he used to serve in a special operations unit for a private military company. i guess it made sense that the best survivors would be the soldiers. you mentioned how you’d been living in your car for the past two weeks, which seemed to amuse him. he probably thought you were just some dumb girl who’d somehow managed to scrape through until now.

he wasn’t wrong, really.

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

his camp was much nicer than the back of your car. 

it wasn't far from where he'd found you. they had lots of weapons and food and beds. and people. there must of been about 10 men in total. the infected weren’t really an issue with their impressive arsenal. there was a large fence surrounding the camp and the men took it in turns to kill anything that tried getting inside. it was pretty clear that ghost was closest to one of the other ex-military guys called "soap". they sat together when they ate and stayed up late at night talking together around the fire - matching dog tags glinting in the dim light. you often watched them through your tent door - enjoying their company but not wanting to interrupt their conversation. you listened as they talked deeply, recounting their time serving together, telling stories of bravery and bloodshed. it became your routine to fall asleep listening to them.

after about 3 or 4 weeks, following the first snowfall, you’d adjusted to life in the camp. soap had taught you a few things and often spent the mornings taking you hunting or showing you how to use the guns - a hand on your waist as he lined you up for the kill shot. he had a sweet nature and silly charm to him, telling you ridiculous jokes that only made you laugh because they were so stupid. you would never tell him that though - he thought you found him hilarious.

however, it was ghost you’d grown closest to, giving you anything and everything you needed. he was mysterious and that drew you to him. one time, he took you down to the river to wash the cookware and yourselves, and you'd caught a glimpse of him pulling off his clothes and mask, blonde hair and muscles seeing the light of day. you couldn't deny it - he was gorgeous.

he often checked on you in the evenings, making sure you’d settled in okay. he sat next to your bed, running a gloved hand over your hair, rubbing small circles into your scalp.

“you like the boys?” he’d ask, “they treating you okay?”

and you’d nod, just like you’d do every night.

“not scared, are you, doll?”

you shook your head.

“good. just making sure.”

and with that, he’d leave, heading to his own tent to rest, or out to guard the fence.

but one night, before he got up to get some sleep, you grabbed his hand. he looked back at you, dark eyes watching yours.

“stay?” you whispered.

and he did, without a word. stripping off his heavy gear and perching next to you in bed, rough camo trousers scratching against your bare shoulder. 

and he stayed, just like you asked. watching over you like a dog and keeping you safe.

sometime in the night, you’d turned to face him where he sat, resting an arm over his thigh. but he didn’t push you off. he just let you rest - your warm breath causing a dampness throughout the tent. 

it was only when the winter sunlight streamed through the tent that you realised he really did stay - all night. you opened your eyes to see he’d settled in next to you, his sleeping body alongside yours in the small camp bed, your arm still around him. 

and when you tried to pull yourself away out of embarrassment, he pulled it back, keeping it over his chest. 

“for warmth, yeah?” he said quietly, voice all deep and sleepy.

and how could you argue with that? these were trying times, after all. 

after a moment's silence, he said “you’re a pretty thing, love. always thought so, even when i first met you and you were all scared and dirty.” he continued, heavy eyes looking down at your vulnerable form. “soap thinks so too, but you’re mine, yeah? i found you - you’re mine.”

there was something about the possessive glint in his eye that showed you he really meant it - his gaze trailing down from your face to your uncovered hips that had shuffled out the sheets in your sleep.

"cm'ere" he said, taking your arm in his grasp and pulling you towards him. "i mean it, love. do you wan' to be mine?" eyes watching your face to see how you'd react to his question. your faces were close now, closer than they'd ever been. he'd looked after you so nicely, giving you everything you needed, protecting you from harm all this time. you couldn't help but agree with him. how could anyone not fall for this attractive man who cared for you so much? and the feeling of his chest under your hand made you fall for him even harder.

"yeah," you whispered against his masked face "...yours."

your small hand reached up to reveal his lips under his mask. he pulled you in, kissing you softly. it was short but there was so much behind it. you could tell he wanted more but he was holding back. he didn't want to accidentally push you away by moving too fast. he pulled back to look at you, hands cupping your soft face, which was still clouded with sleep.

"you're so beautiful, you know that?" he spoke so softly now. it was like the walls he'd put up had fell instantly. he just wanted a moment to be yours. no one else's. not the camp's cook or the guard or the hunter. just yours and nothing else.

you pulled yourself back to his face, kissing him again but soon moving your lips down to kiss his chin, and then his neck. but you didn't get far before he stopped you.

"no, no, love. let me take care of you - you deserve it." he said, turning you around so you were on your back, head resting on your plush pillow as his touch relaxed you.

it was almost as if for just a moment, you weren't in the middle of a fucking nightmare. you were at home, in your own bed. maybe you'd met him at work or out on a date - anywhere that wasn't in a forest full of zombies. and he'd taken you out for dinner a few times and you'd decided he was sweet enough to be kissing down your body, rolling his tongue over your nipples.

but here you were, in a camp full of strangers, being transported by this man who you barely knew, covered only by the walls of a thin tent. but it just felt so right to let him take you like this. you trusted him with your life. and in return he worked your body like magic. his touch was so gentle - yet his skin was so rough compared to your own.

"you want me inside you, baby?" he spoke to you so softly, having kissed down to the top of your underwear now. his eyes watched you, waiting for your permission to carry on.

"please," you replied, "i want you."

that was all he needed to hear. he pulled off his shirt and your underwear, tossing them both to the side. he admired your body shamelessly, eyes tracing the outline of your waist and your body. you couldn't help but do the same, entranced by the way his muscles practically glowed in the light that came through the tent. he was built like a rugby player, pure muscle but with a good layer of fat on top to smooth everything out. you watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.

he was huge. you knew he was a big guy but you weren't expecting it to apply to all of him. it was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever been with. his tip was an angry shade of red from how hard he was, precum running down his shaft. noticing the expression on your face, he reassured you.

"don't worry, i'll be gentle with you."

he lined himself up with your entrance, your wetness being enough to allow himself to push slowly inside. it stretched you more than you ever had been, causing you to hiss as it dipped inside you. he bent forward down to kiss you sweetly, silencing your pained noises, shushing you each time his lips left yours. he continued to move in until he bottomed out inside of you.

"you okay?" he grunted, "tell me when to move, love."

you paused for a moment, adjusting to his size before nodding to let him know he could start moving.

he didn't fuck like you expected him to. you thought a guy like him would be railing you like an animal, but no. he made love to you, his slow but deep thrusts hitting all the perfect spots in your gummy walls. it was pure bliss, and he thought so too, struggling to keep back his grunts each time he thrust into you.

"fucckkkk baby," he'd say, dog tag hanging down as he fucked you, "your pussy is so tight, gripping me so good". he hooked your legs behind his back and moved his big hands onto your hips to hold you in place. " is it good for you too, doll? you look so pretty with that fucked-out look on your face." he went on, smirking at you like he was proud of his work.

you couldn't even form words, let alone piece together a decent response. he felt amazing, pulling all the way out so only his tip was inside of you and then pushing all the way back in again, until you were an absolute drooling mess, jaw slack and whining on his cock. and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he moved his hand between your legs and rubbed lazy circles on your clit with his thumb. almost instantly your pussy started pulsing around him - with you blubbering out incoherent swears and moans - having sent you completely over the edge in a matter of minutes. he wasn't far away either - your clenching making his hips stutter back and forth as he helped you ride through your orgasm. you could of swore you were seeing stars by the time he pulled out of you and came over your stomach with a moan, pressing his forehead to yours.

it took you both a few minutes to come back down again, giggling and kissing his lips once more. your arms found their way around his neck, holding him close to you. you were both a panting mess, clothes discarded across the tent floor and the scent of sex heavy in the air.

"my girl- you're gorgeous," he managed to huff out, catching his breath. " 'm never getting over you."

when news broke that a zombie apocalypse was spreading, you had no idea it would lead to this hunk of a man in bed with you - spoiling you and loving you like this. you weren't complaining, though. not at all. at least something good came from it.

he cleaned you up so carefully, being sure not to press too hard on your sensitive body. and when he'd made sure you were okay, he brought you something to eat and led down with you, stroking up and down on your back, drawing shapes and letters on your skin. part of you couldn't believe this was the same guy who you watched shoot a zombie in the face through the fence the other day. his hands were so gentle, always cautious not to hurt you under his touch.

and as your eyes grew heavy again, revelling in his embrace, you heard him say something into your skin.

"simon," he said quietly, face buried in your neck. "my real name's simon."

˚✧. thank you for reading!

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[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 | angus tully x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | visiting home for the holidays, Angus runs into his old babysitter... or perhaps more importantly, his first real crush. the older, unattainable girl next door; the one that made him realize maybe cooties aren't all that bad. now he's older, too, and maybe you aren't quite as unattainable-- so long as he can play it cool and not make a complete idiot out of himself...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public/car sex, drug use (watch out for the devil's lettuce y'all!!) as well as brief cigarette use, inexperienced/virgin angus, no spoilers for the holdovers (2023) nor any significant relationship to the plot of it lol

technically this is a christmas fic so if you noticed that I'm posting it in january, no you didn't and mind your business <3

The sky was pitch black, and the world was dark— even with all those Christmas lights, their colorful glow seemed to be absorbed so quickly in the gloom of the evening. 

The white snow served as a nice contrast, but it did look sort of grey in all the shadows, even as it was freshly falling to cover the ground.  The snowflakes fell fast, they looked almost heavy: not that cute, fluffy snow that looks all whimsical and floats on the wind.  

It was the sort of weather that should’ve made him appreciate being safe and warm inside, but as he pressed his nose to the cold glass, he wished rather ungratefully for escape.

The doorbell stirred him out of the moment, and Angus looked back over his shoulder towards the foyer.  “Honey!  Can you get that?” his mother called out to him from the kitchen.  She made herself seem so busy when he knew she hadn’t really cooked at all— she was just arranging everything she’d bought on fancy plates to look homemade.  The crinkle of tinfoil gave away that she was too busy disposing of the evidence to greet her guests herself.  She was lucky all the ones who had already arrived were too busy drinking in the living room to notice.

Rolling his eyes a bit, he propelled himself off of his lean on the wall, stuffing one hand in his khaki pocket and the other opening the front door.

Your parents were always really… energetic.  They greeted Angus with massive smiles and ecstatic faces, as if they could hardly believe he was letting them in to his own house.  To be fair, he wasn’t here most of the year, but it wasn’t like he was a celebrity or anything…

“Angus!” your mom squealed joyfully.

“Hey, buddy!” your dad greeted, forcing Angus to fight back a cringe.  

“Nice to see you,” he offered them, “come on in, the food’s almost ready.”

Your mom was preoccupied with the casserole dish she was holding, but your dad’s hands were free so he of course had to give Angus a playful punch to the shoulder as he stepped inside.  “Wo-hoah!  You been workin’ out?” your dad joked— as if Angus’ noodly arm in a red cashmere sweater was ever going to fool anyone into thinking he lifted weights…

As he turned to shut the door, he realized you were standing there, taking one last puff of a cigarette before dropping it on the ground and snuffing it out with your shoe.

He hadn’t known you were coming over— if he had, he would’ve… done something.  Fixed his hair or not worn something so dorky, maybe?  

“H-hey,” he greeted you, feeling pierced by even just your passing glance up at him.

“Hey, kid,” you nodded, making him frown as you walked in past him.

Your parents and his mom were already chatting up a storm, that sort of high-pitched suburban babble he’d learned to tune out easily.  In fact, it really just muffled into a distant whirr as he watched you slip off your coat, revealing your outfit beneath.  He always remembered you wearing jeans when you came over to babysit— and dresses at church.  So the skirt and blazer sort of caught him off-guard.  It made you seem even older— in a good way, like you were a businesswoman or something— and the seam of your stockings running down the back of your legs… his head tilted as his eyes followed it 

“Well shut the door, Angus, you’re letting the cold air in!” his mother scolded gently, knocking him out of the thought.

“O-oh, sorry,” he mumbled, shutting it as you looked back at him over your shoulder and smiled a bit.  He felt like such a loser when you looked at him like that…

“Let me make you two some drinks!  What are you having?”

He wasn’t listening again, of course; he was staring at you again, wondering if you hadn’t changed at all— you were exactly how he remembered you, even though it was probably impossible that you looked the same as his 17-year-old babysitter as you did now.  He hoped that he looked totally different to you, that you were thinking to yourself right now how much more mature he looked.  He hoped that you could barely believe he was the same boy you watched when he was younger— or, better yet, that you’d just totally forgotten about all that.

“Would you help set the table, please, honey?” his mother requested as she zipped back into the kitchen.  He nodded and hesitated before quickly brushing past you to get the silverware out of the cabinet by the table, placing a setting in front of each chair.  She reappeared behind him, but he didn’t look up— not at her or you, even though you were the one she was talking to.  “I’m sorry, sweetie, I forgot to ask— did you want a glass of wine or something?”

“No, I’m alright— thanks, ma’am,” you replied.  “I’ll help with the silverware.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet,” she cooed at you before departing again, and Angus felt his hands get a little clammier around the handful of utensils as you reached out for them. 

“Give me some,” you instructed him, and he only briefly glanced at your face; he tried to hand you the forks without touching your fingers, but all that accomplished was dropping some of them loudly onto the table while still brushing up against your soft hand.  You snorted, picking them up and starting to set them around the placemats as well.

He tried to ignore you, both of you working around the table, but he sighed as he took a closer look at your work.  “No the— that’s a salad fork,” he corrected, “that should go inside.”

“What?” 

“The smaller fork goes on the other side, closest to the plate,” he explained, switching the utensils you’d just placed.  “Dessert spoon goes at the top, butter knife on the left—”

You scoffed a bit.  “And where should I put the opium spoon?”

“Listen, I know it’s stupid,” he assured as he looked at your face again— you were so close, standing right beside him, and his heart was racing.  “But my stepdad will blow a gasket if it’s wrong,” he added in a lower voice.

“He sounds like a tool,” you mumbled back, and the two of you smiled a bit, in that way people smile when they share a secret.  Not that his stepdad being a tool was all that exclusive of a secret…

“Alright!” his mom emerged again, carrying some ceramic dish with oven mitts, and you both straightened up.  “Food’s coming out!  Oh, are the Shaws not here yet?”

Your dad was carrying the platter of ham, and your mom behind him with another side.  “I, uh, guess not,” Angus answered her question.

“Well, we’ll have to start eating without them,” she sighed, wiping her forehead with the back of her head as the dishes were set down— like she was so exhausted.  She probably was, but not from cooking or physical labor: just from the constant anxiety she’d been exuding for the last three days because of this stupid dinner party.  She acted like the President or the Pope were coming, and not just a bunch of boring old people.

And you.  She’d never mentioned you.

As she gathered the guests for dinner, Angus looked at you, and realized he should say something— be polite, at least.  He was terrified to open his mouth and embarrass himself, but if he didn’t try, he’d seem like even more of a loser.

Quickly rubbing his palms against his trousers, he broke the silence.  “So, um, how’ve you been?” he asked, and you looked back at him, seeming a little surprised that he talked to you at all.  

“Oh,” you responded, “good, I’ve been good— just kinda busy.  What have you been doing?”

“You know, just… whatever,” he shrugged, not wanting to admit he was still in high school.

“Aren’t you still in high school?” you questioned with a furrowed brow.

Shit.  That illusion didn’t last long.  “Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, “but I’m eighteen!”

You gave him a little pitying smile that made him realize too late how pathetic his statement was.  Bragging about being eighteen wasn’t doing him any favors in terms of coming off as mature to you— why did he think that would work?

“U-uh, you… you’re in college, right?”

“Well— I was, until about a week ago,” you answered.  “I graduated a semester early.”

“Oh, congrats,” he offered with a nod, “that’s great.  You’ve always been really smart…”

“Well, it didn’t take a genius to help you with your seventh grade math homework,” you deflected his compliment with a tilted smirk, and he laughed nervously.

“I, um, can’t believe you remember that,” he mumbled.

“Of course,” you said, and just as he started to wonder what that meant, his stepdad spoke up over the dull roar of conversation.

“Alright, everyone, take your seats around the table,” he encouraged, “and we’ll all pray before we enjoy this lovely meal.”

Aside from the late arrival of the Shaws, dinner went off without a hitch— Angus fielded the same four questions on repeat, glanced at you every thirty seconds, and only got caught about a dozen times.

The only thing more boring than the dinner was the time afterwards, the indefinite mingling phase.  He usually just counted the minutes until he could get excused to his room, where he could read or sketch or really do anything quiet.  But now that you were here, he wasn’t as sure what to do: he wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to seem too excited to talk to you, but he didn’t want to seem like an asshole or anything…

So he pretty much just sat on a couch, as far away from the bustle of the party as he could reasonably get away with, trying to look busy while not actually doing anything.  Occasionally looking at you, but usually trying not to— until he realized you were coming towards him.  Now was it okay to look at you?

He tried to act like he didn’t even notice you coming closer until you sat next to him on the couch; you were a little close, sitting on your side and putting one of your arms up on the back of the sofa cushions like you were trapping him in.  He put his legs together so they wouldn’t bump into your knees which were dangerously close to him now.

“You look bored,” you noticed.

“Yeah?  I wonder why,” he replied with a small smirk.

“You didn’t really tell me how you’ve been,” you remembered.  “What’s boarding school like?”

“Uh, you know, pretty much your average hellhole,” he joked— not that it wasn’t at least mostly true.  “Not that living at home would be all that much better.”

“You Barton boys get into any trouble up there?” you asked, and he shrugged a bit.

“Some,” he said.  “If you’re not an idiot, you can mostly avoid getting caught for anything.”

“Like what?” you pressed.  “Do kids ever get busted with pot?”

“Oh, all the time,” he laughed.  “It’s really not hard to get away with it, honestly.  I mean, I never got caught, so…”

You raised an eyebrow.  “You smoke?”

He loved the way you said it, not quite under your breath but a secretive mumble.  He just shrugged again, and you laughed a little.  “What?” he wondered.

“You just don’t seem the type,” you explained.

“You don’t know me that well,” he countered, lowering his voice, hoping you would pick up on the undertone.  But if you did, you didn’t quite respond to it.

“Well, are you the type to sneak out of this boring dinner and go smoke?” you wondered.  He thought you looked really sexy asking him a question like that, eyes lighting up as you suggested something that risky.

He grinned excitedly.  “Right now?”

“You’re not scared to get caught, are you?” you challenged.

“Fuck no,” he laughed, “let’s do it.”

~

“Where are we gonna go?” he wondered aloud, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

“My car,” you explained, having to talk a little louder to be heard over the wind.  “I’m parked down the street— by the park, so nobody’s gonna notice us.”

You trudged through the snow together, each step a deep crunch into the frozen snow, and you squinted your eyes when a sharp, icy wind struck right in your face.

You picked up the pace a bit when you saw your car, excited to escape the freezing cold; and as you turned the key in the driver’s door, unlocking the rest, Angus came up beside you.

“Get in on the other side,” you told him, and he walked around the back as you got in yourself.

When you first got in the car, you could still see your breath in the air— but it was still a nice reprieve from the wind outside, and you unzipped your coat and tossed it into the passenger seat in front of you.  Angus hopped in a moment later, and when he shut his door, you were both submerged suddenly into the quietest place you’d been all night.  No wind, no dinner guests, no records playing— just each other’s breathing.

You considered turning the heat on, but you figured the chill would pass soon enough with Angus’ and your own body heat filling the space.

You clicked on the ceiling light, a dim yellow glow illuminating the inside of the car and really bringing out the dinginess of the grey-beige carpet and fabric all over everything.  He simply sat on the seat, waiting patiently with his legs spread a bit and his hands on his knees, blowing out a breath through his cheeks which swelled with air; he watched you lean back and open the front console, bending somewhat awkwardly over it to reach in and rifle around.

“There we go,” you mumbled as your hand found the fabric bag underneath loose bills and receipts; you pulled it out and opened the drawstring, revealing with a proud smile the baggy inside.  “Ta-da!” you announced softly, brandishing the crushed leaf and rolling papers.  “Wanna show me your joint-rolling skills?” 

You held the bag towards him in offering, but he shook his head and seemed to shrink away slightly.  “N-no, I’ll let you do the honors,” he decided in a soft voice.

You rubbed your hands together to try to warm them up first, because the detailed task was trickier with cold fingers, but you managed alright in the end.  His eyes were glued to the way your tongue slid along the paper before sealing it; it did intrigue you just a bit, wondering what he was imagining while you did that.

“Were you always a bad girl, and I just didn’t know it?” he asked.  “Or did college make you more rebellious?”

“A bad girl, huh?” you snorted, and his face flushed a bit.

“That didn’t sound weird in my head,” he promised.

“Save it for when you can blame it on the flower, dude,” you laughed as you handed him the blunt and got your lighter ready.  “You can have the first hit, I’ll light it up for you.”

He put it between his lips as you struck the BIC, and he leaned forward until the end was in the flames.  

You watched him breathe it in, that singe-y, crispy sound of the weed burning with each inhale making you smile a bit in anticipation… though you had to admit, it wasn’t just your excitement to get high that had your heart beating faster.

He only managed to hold it in for a second before coughing roughly, clearly trying to suppress it at first before bringing his fist to his mouth and really hacking a few times.  You smacked him on the back with a grin, and he nodded at you; poor thing, his eyes were all red, actually his whole face was red, but he eventually recovered.

“You don’t really smoke, do you?” you noticed with a tilted smile.

He cleared his throat and shook his head.  “N-not really, no,” he admitted.  “I mean, I’ve tried it before, I swear—”

“It’s fine,” you assured, “I just don’t want you losing a lung.”

“Let me try again,” he pleaded, reaching for the blunt, but you held it away from him and laughed.

“I’ve got a better idea, this might make it easier,” you offered, leaning in closer.  He seemed to tense up a bit, like he wasn't sure what you were leaning in for, but he watched you with half-lidded eyes as you took a long drag.

You grabbed his jaw— not hard, but enough to make him open his mouth a bit— and exhaled the smoke into his face.  He got the idea and breathed in deeply, staring right into your eyes.

“Better?” you asked.

“U-um, yeah,” he whispered, “I didn't cough that time…”

“Then we’ll just do it this way,” you decided, biting your lip a little when he shifted in the seat.  You were having way too much fun with him, and you knew it was unfair, but how often do you get to tease somebody like this?

After a few more hits that way, you saw his eyes get a little glassier.  You yourself were starting to feel it, and you smiled at him as you brought your mouth a bit closer to his for the next shared breath.

“How does it feel?” you asked him softly as you leaned back again— he chased you for a minute, like he wanted to stay close, but relaxed quickly.

“U-uh, kinda… floaty…” he mumbled.  “Don’t you think my parents are gonna notice the smell when we go back in?”

“I’ve got perfume for that,” you explained.

“So I’m gonna smell, like… fruity?” he frowned, and you giggled.

“That’s what you think my perfume smells like?” you wondered.

“Yeah, not— not that I was, you know… sniffing you…” he trailed off, face getting pink again, and you laughed.

“I think you need another hit,” you decided, and he nodded in agreement.  Inhaling deeply, you pulled him closer and breathed into his open mouth, looking back into his eyes through the thin veil of excess smoke.

After that, you leaned back against the door, basking for a moment in your own high.  You watched the snow falling outside the window, letting your vision get a little blurry; the quietness of the moment didn’t seem awkward to you at all, it seemed peaceful, but apparently Angus was the more anxious type of smoker and felt the need to break the silence.  “I always had the biggest crush on you,” he blurted out, and you sighed a bit, lips pressing into a pitying smile even though you didn’t look back at him.  “I was kinda surprised you didn’t notice…”

“I did,��� you mumbled.

“R-really?” he choked.  “I, uh… I thought you just saw me as some little twerp.”

“I did,” you said again, smiling wider, and he laughed nervously.

“Oh,” he nodded as he looked away, “that’s… fair.”

He only let the silence linger for a second before interrupting it again.

“But I’ve grown up a lot, you know,” he reminded you.  “I’m eighteen.”

“You mentioned that.”

“Right.  Um,” he stalled, “but it’s not just that.  I mean, I like to think I’m pretty… mature.  At least, I am compared to the idiots at my school— but I probably still seem like a little kid to you.  I can’t really compete with college guys…”

“Compete?” you repeated, tilting your head.  “What are you competing for?”

“O-oh, I just meant like, um—” he stammered, and you scooted closer to him on the seat with a devious smile.  

“What are you competing with those ‘college guys’ for, Angus?” you pressed again.  “My attention?”

“Some… something like that, yeah,” he answered, speaking a little softer.  

“Well, there’s not much competition here, is there?” you noticed, looking around the car.  “It’s just you and me… we’re alone.”

He started to open his mouth to speak, but you reached up to drag one finger over his chest for a moment, and he only choked out a little gasp.  “Yeah, I… guess that’s true,” he mumbled, going back and forth from watching your finger draw circles on his sweater to watching your face.  

You wordlessly brought the joint to your lips again, seeing that it was about halfway gone already.  You took a long, deep breath in, exhaling towards him without really pursing your lips, letting him come closer for his share this time.  Except, finally, this time he didn’t stop.  He just kept leaning in towards you until his lips brushed over yours and you shut your eyes.

His kiss was patient, almost too gentle, like he was holding back.  You set the joint aside quickly in the ashtray and brought your hands up to his face, so you could kiss him a little harder and maybe encourage him somehow.  It seemed to work; he got a little more ambitious, moving his lips against yours, sighing gently as you combed your fingers through his wild curls.

You heard the wind howl outside, whistling around the car, not that you really paid much attention to it.  Instead, your attention was drawn to the way his hands were still sat in his lap; you smirked a little.  What a polite boy.

“You can touch me, you know,” you whispered to him, never breaking away from his lips.  One of your hands wrapped gingerly around one of his wrists, guiding it to your waist.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled back, grabbing onto you with a touch more confidence.  He even pulled you a little closer as you kissed him harder, your hands traveling up to his shoulders in return.

Other than needing some guidance on the auxiliary stuff, Angus was a good kisser.  You were actually a little surprised when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise: it seemed like a good sign he wasn’t holding back anymore.

One of your legs hiked up over his, just something instinctive to keep him close, and his hand trailed down over your hip to caress that leg; it was a shame you needed tights for the weather, because you would’ve loved to feel his touch right on your skin.  “These are cute,” he informed you in a mumble against your lips, quickly pinching and popping the elastic-y fabric back against your leg.  You broke away to look down at his hand on your thigh, which he did as well.

“Really?” you asked sweetly, not sure you were pulling off the innocent vibe of the question.

“Yeah,” he nodded, meeting your gaze again, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

You hummed and he kissed you again— and this time, as his hand slid back up to your waist, it took a route along the curve of your ass.  You wouldn’t have minded at all if he got a nice handful of it, pulled you closer, gotten a little rougher with you… but obviously, he didn’t.  It was still Angus, after all.

In fact, it took a few more minutes of kissing for him to even muster the courage to touch your chest through your sweater, but you both sighed a bit when he finally did.  He groped at you a bit, but you didn’t care much for all the layers in between, so you sat up and perched yourself in his lap, breaking the kiss to shed your blazer and pull your sweater up over your bra.  “O-oh,” he breathed as you did it, and you felt something tighten up inside you when he absent-mindedly bit his lip.

You sighed shakily, even though you didn’t know why you felt just a bit nervous— and you pulled your bra up, too, exposing yourself entirely to him.

He whispered your name; your pussy clenched again instantly.

He put his hands over you carefully, and you jumped slightly when those long fingers of his brushed over your skin— and he pulled back quickly in response.  “Fuck, are my hands cold?  I’m sorry,” he stammered nervously, but you just smiled back at him.

“It’s fine,” you promised, and he put his hands back on you with a long sigh.

“Wow,” he mumbled under his breath.  You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the wide-eyed, awe-filled stare that never left your tits as he carefully massaged them; he toyed with your nipples briefly before groping a bit more confidently, your hips shifting in his lap without you really meaning for them to.

Your smile fell, though, when he suddenly leaned forward and latched his mouth onto one of them.  “O-oh, fuck,” you mumbled under your breath as he suckled— rather voraciously, really— and fluttered his eyes shut, his tongue running all over the skin in his mouth.  You looked down at him for a minute, thinking he looked pretty cute doing that, but had to shut your eyes and lean your head back when he sucked even harder at you.  “Fuck, Angus—”

“Does that feel good?” he asked quietly as he broke away; you bit your lip and nodded, and he moved to the other one as you leaned back even further, held up only by the front seats.  He, of course, gladly leaned forward with you to stay close, and kept a hand on the breast no longer in his mouth.

You could’ve sworn you felt yourself get especially wet when his tongue swirled around your nipple, and through the high that clouded your brain (equally from the pot and the pleasure) you realized that you were about to fuck Angus Tully.  You sort of couldn’t believe it, and yet the thought didn’t disgust or offend you as much as you thought it would.  You figured you would at least feel a little more guilty, but… you didn’t.  Not very much, at least.  Certainly not enough to stop you.

You sat back up and moved your hips back a bit, making him stop what he was doing just to wonder what you were up to; he groaned a bit when you reached down between your own legs to try to open his belt.  “O-oh, fuck,” he whispered, lifting his hips a bit as well to make it easier for you to reach.  “We're really gonna—?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, finally getting his belt open and working on his button and fly next; you could feel his cock already through the fabric, and it flexed a bit against the back of your hand in anticipation.

He groaned a little when you reached into his boxers and wrapped your hand around his length.

“You're so hard,” you noticed with a little gasp, gripping him tighter as you tried to (carefully) pull his cock out of the khakis and plaid underwear.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “fuck, yeah… you're really, um— you're hot.”

You giggled a bit, glancing up at his nervous expression.  “You're sweet,” you offered, but your mouth was agape when you finally got a glimpse of him.  “You're… fuck, Angus, you're big…”

“Oh, uh, really?” he perked up, cock flexing against your palm.

Giving him a few lazy strokes as you nodded, you giggled when his hips started to buck up towards your touch.  “Fuck, I want you,” you moaned softly, and his cock just flexed in your hand again.

“You— god, you can’t even imagine how long I’ve wanted you,” he assured, making you smile wide.

“I’m sure I can, but I’ll try not to,” you decided as you let go of him.  He seemed disappointed until he realized why: reaching up under your skirt, you pulled your tights and panties down your thighs.  

“What if somebody sees?” he wondered nervously.

“They’re all busy inside, nobody’s coming out here in this weather,” you assured.  “I can turn the light off if you want though—”

“N-no,” he stopped you before you could keep reaching for the ceiling light.  “No, I still wanna see.”

You laughed a little and kissed him again, quickly.  “Me too,” you agreed as you lifted yourself up over his lap, guiding his cock’s head to your entrance.  

He sighed a little as soon as it touched you, but that was nothing compared to the way he reacted when you lowered yourself and he slipped inside.

“Fuck,” you groaned deeply, loving the way he stretched you out— not painful, but just the right amount of challenge.  The body high seemed to make everything a little extra tingly and soft, though you didn’t have a sober version of this experience to compare it to.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, “oh my god…”

You finally sank down completely into his lap, and he took hold of your waist with a little moan.  “Fuck,” you said again, more of a whisper, your head falling back as you started to rock against him.  “Oh, it’s so deep, Angus—”

He interrupted you with a sort of whine, like he couldn’t take hearing you talk like that… but that just made you want to do it more.

“So fucking good,” you praised with a sigh, feeling him press his forehead against your chest as he moaned quietly.  “You feel so fucking good…”

He whimpered, grabbing on painfully-tight to your hips, until his head fell back and his Adam's apple bobbed with each noise he made.

A sharp, needy moan jumped out of his throat— and at the same time, you felt him pulse inside you.  Your eyes went wide as he relaxed slightly under you.  “Did you… just come?” you asked.

He was still panting, his face starting to flush red.  “Um… yeah?” he replied breathlessly.  “Sorry, I-I tried not to—”

“It’s okay,” you promised with a soft laugh, “are you— or, uh, were you a virgin?”

“Uh…” he stalled anxiously.  “Yeah, I am— or was— sorry, I should’ve said something, but I thought you might—”

“It’s fine,” you assured, resting a hand on his chest to try to soothe him.  “It’s cute, honestly.  I don’t mind being your first.”

“I always wanted you to be,” he admitted.  “I imagined it like this.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the car.  “Like this?”

“Well, not exactly like this,” he laughed.  “There was a lot more time involved, for one, and a bed.  And whipped cream—”

“Okay, let’s not unpack all that right now,” you interjected, “we should get cleaned up and go back inside anyway…”

You tried to get off his lap, but he held you down by your hips (with more strength than you expected from him) and pleaded with you: “No, wait, not yet— I want you to come, too.”

“It’s okay, really, we need to go back before your parents notice you’re gone,” you insisted.

“No, they don’t care— please?  Please just keep going?  I’m still hard, I can—”

“Angus,” you interrupted, and he sighed a little because he knew already you weren’t going to be convinced.  “You’ll get another chance to make me come, alright?  We just have to get back inside now.”

He lit up instantly.  “Really?  So we can— we’ll do this again?”

“If you want,” you shrugged.

“Hmm, no thanks— I’ll just go back to being a horny loser,” he joked, making you snort.  “Of course I wanna see you again.  I can’t believe I have to do… anything else but that until then!”

“You’ll live,” you promised as you got up off of him— you both winced, but you mostly just focused on getting your panties and tights back up before anything, uh, spilled.

You pulled your bra and sweater down again, and figured out where your blazer ended up so you could slip it back on while Angus lifted his hips to be able to get himself back into the khakis.

Opening the console again, you put your paraphernalia back in and dug around for a glass bottle instead.  “Hopefully this can cover up weed and sex,” you said as you spritzed yourself a couple times with the perfume, then got him once or twice for good measure.

“How am I supposed to hide this?” he asked with an annoyed groan, struggling to adjust his boner inside his trousers in a way that wasn’t obvious.

“Sorry, all I can help with is the smell,” you laughed, putting the perfume back and slipping your coat on.  “You ready?”

“Yeah, guess so,” he sighed, “ready as I’ll ever be.  W-wait— can I kiss you one more time first, before we go?”

You thought it was funny, and sweet, that he thought he had to ask.  You nodded, and he pulled you into a kiss that was much more passionate than you expected.  Not filthy or anything, but not as tired and slow as you expected after just coming.  His hands held your head, and you had to really remind yourself not to get lost in it before your better judgment was overruled.

Pulling back slowly, you looked at him for a second and wondered if anyone had ever looked back at you quite like that before.

You leaned for the door handle, but just before you pulled it, a final thought popped into your mind.  “Oh, I almost forgot— Merry Christmas, by the way,” you offered him with a smile.

“Yeah, no shit,” he laughed, almost sounding like he was in disbelief, “that’s about the merriest fucking Christmas I’ve ever had.”

[series masterlist here]

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt comfort, minors dni

word count: 5k

summary: You, both a member of David's group and one of his former victims, are already contemplating escape when Ellie arrives at the resort. Seeking Ellie, you decide to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity to run. But before you can find Ellie, you cross paths with Joel instead.

warnings: age gap, virgin!reader, mentions of past grooming attempt, mentions of cannibalism, past rape attempt, PTSD, blood, canon typical violence, no smut for now, spoilers for s01 e08

a/n: this was previously named let me follow this is also new for me because I've never written virgin!reader before (mostly because i didn't have the best experience with that) but i felt like it was fitting with the story and where i wanna take it in the future.

Revelation 13:3-4 "One of the heads of the beast seemed to have had a fatal wound, but the fatal wound had been healed. The whole world was filled with wonder and followed the beast. People worshiped the dragon because he had given authority to the beast, and they also worshiped the beast and asked, 'Who is like the beast? Who can wage war against it?'"

The wind blows cold. You, a girl who has lost everything, sit on your knees on the ice. Your family has been long gone. Your hope dwindles, hanging only by a simple thread. You don't know how long you've been crying. Your hands, young yet covered in the warmth of blood. The scent of pine reaches your nose, and you sniff involuntarily, just like you did before you lost everything. Before the world ended. You hear the sound of men approaching you, and you wish they would just kill you. Sixteen and already you wish for the sweet mercy of death.

“Now what do we have here?” A man speaks, his tone is humorful. Melodic. Your mind and body already slipping and reaching towards the warmth of it. “You poor young thing. Where’s your family, girl?”

When you finally look up from your hands you see a man on a horse. Typical for this day and age. Near him hovers four others. All of them looking weathered and older than you. Your eyes move back to the one that seems in charge. He has strawberry blond hair and a thin beard of the same color. His eyes narrow slightly. They pop under the cold blue sky and the frozen lake. You don’t know what to say. How to answer this man who is an obvious threat. 

He hops off the horse, and you attempt to move away but your legs are frozen in place, your heart beating loudly against your ribcage. He kneels next to you. Observing. You swallow, fear coating your tongue with the taste of bile. His eyes soften when he takes in the sight of you. Bruised and wounded. Your eyes squeeze shut as he reaches out and pushes a loose strand of hair only for the wind to bring it back. 

“No need to be afraid, child. We’re a peaceful group and there are more like us if you want to join.” 

“J–Join?” your teeth chatter, your lips hurting as you speak. There’s a bit of light filling the cracks of the iron cage of your heart. Hope. You realize it to be. Hope that you found someone to help you. To look after you in this infected world. He must’ve seen it in your expression because his soft smile grows, eyes glimmering with mirth. 

“So afraid,” he hums. “But we’ll change that soon enough. You’ve been brought here for a reason. And I think I know what your purpose is in our small clan.” 

He swiftly stands, leaving you dumbfounded and still upon the freezing ice. Your mouth gapes, your body buzzing with a newfound need to stay alive. 

“What’s your name?” you ask. He throws an old coat over your shoulders. Not his own. But one he had extra on his horse. Probably taken from someone else who was more unfortunate than you. 

“David,��� he answers gently, as if he’s scared you’ll run away. Before you reach out, he grabs your hand and lifts you. You nearly fall, only prevented thanks to the strong arm that wraps around your waist. He’s warm. Much warmer than you expected. “Lovely to have you with us.” 

The men near him don’t seem to share the same sentiment but you smile all the same. 

You don’t want to think for a while. Maybe not even for a millennia. If possible. 

10 YEARS LATER

Whispers of death surround you. The names of the fallen circling you and squeezing your heart tight. Suffocated. That’s how you feel. Helpless. Trapped. Consumed. Faint murmurs fill the hall room. The cold that seeps through the wood, the same wood that was intended for summer and not winter, worries everyone, including you. But at the same time, you think this is what you all deserve. An icy grave. Freezing to death and surrendering to the cold. 

You were never meant to feel warmth. You know that better now. 

The chair creaks next to you and when your eyes shift to the side. You see James taking a seat. A sudden rage fills you. An indescribable rage. It disappears as soon as it appears like it always does. He turns to you and gives you a curt nod. You don’t nod back. He might think he’s looking after you but he’s not. All he’s done is turn the other cheek to a faith that is spewed by a liar. A deceiver. A disgusting man that makes your stomach turn—

The aforementioned man finally stands and clears his throat. Loudly. But not loud enough to overpower Hannah’s cries. She sniffles. Rubs her eyes roughly. Her mother wraps an arm around her and starts whispering words of comfort. You have no idea what that comfort would be since it was her father that had died. You remember the day you lost your parents. You felt utterly defeated at the time. Hopeless. Swallowed by darkness. Your eyes rubbed raw and stinging from crying and crying and crying—

David opens the bible and reads. His glasses are perched innocently above his nose. His voice, despite the rasp of time, still carries that melodic lilt. You don’t listen. Refuse to. 

“And I saw a new heaven and a new Earth. For the first heaven and the first Earth were passed away. . .”

You close your eyes with a stuttered breath. Your body is thrumming. Your legs shaking and heart pounding. These are the most painful times for you. The times where you have to listen to him and pretend to be moved by God’s will. You hate hearing his voice. The same voice that told you you were his. The same voice that commanded you to strip for him completely when it was only your arm that was wounded. 

Your pulse quickens. Your cheeks grow warm. 

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. 

It happened years ago but it doesn’t matter. No matter the passage of time it still feels like it happened yesterday. His touch on your cheek. The way his blue eyes ate you up as he stalked around you, pretending to be worried while he was just taking in the sight of your body. A soft touch here and a soft touch there. Knuckles following the curve of your spine. Palms feeling the weight of your behind. The memory makes you sick. The way he was marinating you for something unspeakable. 

He enjoyed when you flinched. Enjoyed the way you whimpered and curled away. He laughed and did nothing else. He wrapped a bandage around your arm while you remained stark naked. Then he left. Leaving it to James to come to the room, telling you to get dressed while averting his eyes. 

You jerk, eyes going wide as a sharp cry echoes within the thin walls. 

“. . . And I heard a great voice out of heaven say, ‘Behold… the tabernacle of God is with men. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes—’”

He’s trying hard to ignore it. You can tell by the way his lips twitch ever so slightly, his nostrils flaring with annoyance when another cry is heard. 

He stops. 

And your heart stops along with it. 

You’re still afraid even when his anger isn’t directed at you. Cold beads of sweat make you feel clammy and gross. You want to hide. And even though you blame him, you want to move closer to James, hoping that whatever it is that’s going to happen, he can shield you from it. 

David turns his gaze towards Hannah and Joyce, Hannah’s mother, and lets out a sigh as if it pains him to see someone so distraught. 

“I’ve read this passage too many times,” He walks towards Hannah, his brows slightly furrowed and eyes full of rue. He places the book on the table and removes his glasses, placing it above it. You’re surprised when he kneels but your stomach twists as he places a hand above Hannah’s knee. She’s unaware, her bottom lip trembling. “Do you remember what comes next?”

She shakes her head. 

“‘And God will wipe away all tears from their eyes… ‘that there will be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither will there be any more pain… for the former things are passed away.’” 

Your eyes move to the crowd. Everyone holding on to one another, eyes red and wet. Hannah takes a sharp inhale, your gaze promptly landing back to the scene. 

“Do you know what that means?” She nods and when she does, David grips her shoulder. “Good.” 

He exchanges a glance with the mother and stands up, a groan dropping from his lips as he does so. You feel a momentary satisfaction at his discomfort. 

“When can we bury him?” 

The question surprises everyone, including David who doesn’t show it. The only oddity is him looking at James, a gaze so quick and short that if you hadn’t been sitting next to James you would’ve missed it. “The ground is too cold to dig. We’ll bury your father in the spring.”

Hannah seems content with the answer for now. The sermon is over when David opens the doors. His eyes linger on you as you get up, slow and groggy. Despite her recent loss, you find Hannah to be lucky. At least she had someone to protect her for a good while, her body free of being viewed as an object that belonged to someone else. 

You don’t look at either James or David as you leave. Not that it mattered. They were too busy talking amongst each other.  

You wipe the snow that catches over your eyelashes with the back of a gloved hand. Everyone had a job to do and yours today was to chop wood in the freezing weather. You hate the feeling of shivering and sweating at the same time. It’s a disgusting feeling. But you were the youngest of the group—and had fallen out of favor with David, which meant that he didn’t try to get into your good graces by giving you the stay-by-the-fire duties. Not that you missed it. You’d rather freeze to death than give any part of yourself to him. 

Your feet drag over the snow. Your biceps ache with the added weight of the firewood within your arms. Breathing from your mouth, your eyes are drawn to one of the sheds. That place always gives you the creeps. It’s always locked. The windows dusty and blocked by cabinets from the inside so no one could see. You never thought of asking what the hell was in there, no one else did either. Everyone just wanted to survive. A herd of sheep following the blood-stained mouth of their leader. Not that they knew he had a blood-stained mouth. That information was only reserved for his victims and James. 

A log slips from the top and you loudly groan towards the sky. You need to leave this hell hole. You don’t know when. But you have to. 

Just as you lean down you sense someone coming towards you at full speed. Jumping, you move back only to see James huffing and puffing with a small package in his hand. You raise a brow. “Weren’t you supposed to be hunting?” you ask, picking up the log. “What the hell are you doing here running like a maniac? ‘Scared the shit out of me.” 

“David is at gunpoint.” Good. “And the crazy girl demanded some medicine. Hopefully, I can sneak up on her.” 

You scoff, “A girl? Since when does David follow any kind of demand?” 

“It’s complicated.” He looks uncomfortable, you must’ve struck a nerve with that. “She’s with the man that killed Alec.”

“You’re taking medicine to her? Actual medicine.” 

“David said. . .” 

You raise a hand and shoo him away, “Just go. I don’t care.” 

Watching him leave, your brows knit tightly together. This had to be a joke, they found the girl and by proxy, the man who killed Alec and. . . David is helping the girl? You don’t necessarily care for revenge— but the fact that he’s actively wanting to show just how kind he is to this girl is suspicion-worthy. He likes what he sees and pulls a curtain over his true colors to obtain it. You know word of this will come out soon. You’re positive that James told at least one person when he went in to get the medicine. It would spread like wildfire. 

And most of the people here, starving and cold with no warmth left in their chests are hungry for the heat of revenge. 

Just like you had predicted rumors were spiraling. 

You’re sitting someplace unnoticeable and near the windows. Snow hits the glass like heavy rain. The clear panels freezing over, you visibly shudder. Your decades-old jacket isn’t enough anymore to keep you warm. 

Your head turns with another whisper coming nearby. Something about a girl being with the man who killed Alec. Your eyes shift to Hannah and her mother sitting in the middle, the young girl seemed furious, her eyes hardened but still carried a juvenile chubbiness in her cheeks. The look doesn’t suit her. It looks like a drop of blood on top of snow. No one is touching their food. Steaming bowls of meat sitting on top of weathered tables. You’re not hungry so you push it away. You’re hoping with every fiber in your body that they haven’t found the girl. You wouldn't wish David on even your worst enemy.

The doors open with a loud, bone-chilling creak. You jump at the sound. Soft flakes of snow hurry inside, melting as soon as the light touches them. James holds the door open for David and the latter, with great effort, drags a large stag inside. The entire room stops breathing, their eyes glued to the scene, their minds full of questions. 

The door closes. Suddenly you feel trapped and suffocated. 

“Big one,” David says, looking towards the tables with a crooked smile. Not even one person is talking now. Just deafening silence. James moves away quickly, his eyes find yours, and takes a seat next to you. You’re not sure why he hovers around you. Maybe in some sick way, he thinks you’re friends? 

David sighs loudly, bringing your attention back to him. “If you’ve heard a rumor… yes, we found a girl who was with the man who took Alec from us. When the sun rises, I’ll lead a group out to pick up her trail. Won’t be hard to find in the snow. We’ll follow it to wherever they’re hiding… and we’ll bring that man to justice.”

“You should kill him. You should kill both of them.”

David’s head snaps towards the vengeful voice. Your blood freezes, a tingle settling at the base of your neck, your skin grows taut over your muscles. You’re afraid. And your fear only grows when David stalks towards the girl, a faint smile on his lips, he removes his gloves. One by one. His movements slow, unrushed. He stands in front of Hannah, briefly stares down at her—

You flinch at the sound. The loudest smack and thud you’ve ever heard. Your eyes widen, heart beating in your throat as your eyes remain glued to Hannah who’s scrambling on the floor. David seems unbothered by it. Like he hadn’t just backhanded a young girl. The mom stands, murmurs getting louder, without thinking you attempt to get up too, thinking of all the ways you can kill the man. 

But James—fucking James—he stops you with a hand on your knee. You give him a disgusted look and he quickly pulls his hand away. But the damage was done. You settle back, the chair groaning underneath you. 

You watch as David halts the mother with a single hand, gently gesturing her to sit back down. She does—she does and it drives you insane. It’s surreal almost. There’s a loud hum in your ears as David kneels next to Hannah, her eyes looking anywhere but him. Scared, she takes David’s offered hand. You feel sick. Your stomach churns, bile rising to your throat. He helps her up and sits her down. He’s still on his knees, his eyes soft. 

Disgusting. 

“I know you think you don’t have a father anymore. But the truth is, Hannah, you will always have a father. And you will show him respect when he’s speaking.”

Tension rises with his words. You can tell from the brief glances that happen behind David’s back. However, it’s not enough. No one does anything. They just sit and wait as Hannah’s mother brings David a bowl of food. They begin to eat, the rest follows. 

Spoons clink. Wind blows. Birds caw.  

You look down at the meat, clutching the fork in your hand. You can’t. Something disturbs you. James also lingers before he takes the first bite. Something in his eyes makes you rather starve than taste. 

You look back at Hannah. Her bottom lip is trembling, her cheek red. 

She eats. 

“Where is she?” 

David’s eyes glimmer with amusement, his teeth showing as he smiles. You’re out in the open. Snow falling all around you. Your chest squeezes. You can barely breathe, yet your chest continues to rise and fall. 

“Is my little lamb jealous?” Heat simmers under your skin. How fucking dare he? “Head back. This doesn’t concern you.” 

“Like hell, it doesn’t,” you snap. His eyes narrow and for a brief moment, your mind flashes images of him tying you to the bed whenever you swore. A nasty shiver crawls up your spine. “Let her go.” 

“And why would I do that?” he shakes his head. “Do you want to know why I never touched you again? I got bored. I knew I could have you whenever and wherever I wanted. The fire in your eyes died. You had no fight left in you.” he chuckles. You’re trembling now, your legs feeling weak underneath you. “And I enjoyed seeing the fear in your eyes whenever I entered the room. . . wondering. . . thinking about when I would finally make you my own.”  

You don’t know what to say. The snowfall picks up in pace. Hurling, dancing around you both. A sign of a storm. The cold kisses your cheeks. David grins and extends his arms towards the sky, you take a step back. 

“I finally found myself a pet that’s fun to play with. Someone that won’t be so easily broken.” 

Broken. Broken. Broken. 

That’s what you are, isn’t it? Broken. Alone. Unwanted. 

You have to get to the girl and get the hell out of here. 

You lift your chin, “You’re sick.” 

Bad move. His nostrils flare with anger as he grips your chin and forcefully brings you closer to his face. As someone who went on and on about you being too submissive for his liking, he sure as hell seems to hate that you’re defying him. 

“Don’t you dare talk back to me,” he spits, squeezing your jaw until your lips part with a whimper. “I'm the one who saved you and spared you. I’m a good man but never forget that you belong to me.” Without hesitation, he cups you between your legs. You stiffen at the touch, fear chills your skin, feeling little pins needling into your muscles. “You’re mine to break and when I do, you'll love it. And you'll finally be a woman.” 

He doesn’t linger. Leaving you, he disappears between the cabins. You collapse to the snow, shaking, trembling and tears flooding your eyes. You fist at the snow, your fingers becoming numb as it melts between your fingers. You were a fool to think that you were safe. You genuinely thought that after so long he’d let you do your own thing within the community. But no. He still had his eyes on the “prize”.

You want to run into the forest but you can’t. Your eyes fall to the ground where his footsteps are perfectly visible. Now you know where the girl is. 

The door that is always locked is open. 

Your brows knit together as you observe the old wood swaying back and forth due to the wind. Your skin is icy cold. Coming closer you see that the lock had been broken, shattered. You see a spray of blood on the snow and that entices you to take a step forward into the dark cabin. You know you shouldn’t be taking any detours. Your backpack is secured tightly against your back filled with essentials and some sentimental items you gathered during the years. You should go. But you’re curious. You have to know what’s been in this shed for all these years. 

You sigh. Curiosity killed the cat. 

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you murmur. 

You pull out your gun, your finger on the trigger as you explore. It seems pretty standard. Some items, lots of dust—

Two large hands shove you roughly against the wall. You choke, all the air leaving your lungs as your gun is knocked out of your hand. Momentarily you’re pulled away and slammed back against the wall again, this time the back of your head thudding against the wood. You groan in pain. Your body screaming at you to run and hide. 

“Where is she?” you hear a man hiss through gritted teeth. “Where the fuck is she?” 

You’re slammed once more, tears prick the corner of your eyes and you barely manage to raise your hands. 

When you finally manage to open your eyes, panting heavily, you see a disheveled man. At first glance, he doesn’t make you feel that you’re in danger—which is an ironic feeling considering the throbbing at the back of your head is his doing. Lines run across his face, his eyes full of worry and anger. You immediately know who he is. There was only one girl after all. 

“You’re—” you swallow. “You’re him.” 

His hand tightens around your throat and a gun is hastily pressed against your forehead, “Tell me where she is or I’m shootin’ you.” 

“I’m actually trying to find her myself,” you answer, which by the looks of it was the wrong this to say. “I—I wanted to help her. Free her. David. . . the man that took her—he’s a monster.” 

His eyes narrow, “You from this community?” 

“He took me in when I was sixteen,” you explain. “I had no choice but to join.” 

“And why should I trust you?” 

“Because I know exactly where she is,” you bite the inside of your cheek. “And I know that you’re hurt. I can help.” 

“Then what?” 

You shake your head, not understanding. He clarifies. “You help me and then what? What’s the catch?” 

Your eyes blur with tears. You’re just so fucking tired. 

“I just want to leave.” 

Something about the way you whisper must’ve wake something in him because he lets you go. He lights the flashlight. “I ain’t in the business of takin’ in strays.” 

What? “What?” 

“Just leave. I don’t need your help.” 

“You—You don’t understand!” Just as he turns you jump towards him, fisting the back of his jacket, the fabric isn’t soft enough for you to get a good grip on him so you grab his shoulder instead. “He’s a monster! Everyone fucking underestimates him—he’ll—he’ll—!”

He stills. Rushed steps coming to a halt. You think he’s going to shove you off, push you away but he’s glued. With the fear of silence, you pull back and step to the side. He’s still not acknowledging you. His hard gaze glued to where the flashlight is illuminating. You follow the light speckled with dust. Horror curling in your stomach like a hook. 

There are three of them. Three bodies hanging like animals being prepared to cut into pieces. 

“Oh god—” 

You bring your hands to your head, your heart ramming into your chest, you shake your head. “No, no, no, no—” You take a step back. The man rips his gaze away from the bodies, away from what it implies. You take another step back and another. You’re shaking, your eyes glued to the floor. He—David—he fed you people. 

Fucking people. People that you knew.

Finally, the scent hits you. The smell of flesh and blood. 

You scream. 

The man is on you in an instant, you tumble to the ground and he goes down with you willingly. “Shit—no no no. Shut the hell up— shut the hell up.”

The knot that forms in your throat is large and uncomfortable. You bawl your eyes out, hiccuping against his chest. He takes you into his arms and you can’t be bothered to think of the why of his actions. His biceps tighten around you. You’re still shouting, still thrashing around, crying—he presses you further into his chest, muffling your sounds. You vaguely hear him shushing you, telling you it’s gonna be alright. Lies. He’s telling you lies. 

You start to quiet down and only then do you begin to make sense of his words. He’s murmuring bits of his life. Of what he’s seen. You finally learn the name of the girl: Ellie. The thick baritone of his voice is like a melody. It soothes you. Maybe not fully. But it helps calm your raging heart. You breathe. He smells like wood and snow. 

“Thank you,” you manage to whisper, pulling away. “Please let me help you.” 

“Yeah—Yeah, you can help.” He guides you to your feet in a way that your back is turned to the bodies. Just the thought of what's behind you makes your lungs cave in. 

“What’s your name?” you ask, desperate for any kind of distraction. 

“Joel.” 

“Alright, Joel,” you head towards the door. “Let’s go.” 

She escaped. 

You can’t help but be impressed at the sight of an empty cell. But the pride for a girl you haven’t officially met dies in your throat when you see who’s against the wall, covered in blood. 

“You knew him?” Joel asks, his tone lacking any kind of grief. A question asked more so as a courtesy than actual worry. 

You stare at him. His blue eyes now lifeless, lips parted. It almost looks like he’s sitting, just taking a rest on the cold floor. It would be easy to make you believe that if it wasn’t for the cleaver sticking out of his neck. 

“No,” you answer dryly. Yet, you still walk to the dead man and gently close his eyes. You warned him this would happen. Joel doesn’t ask any more questions. He doesn’t have to. “We need to find her before David gets to her.” 

Joel immediately rushes out, you following him close by. You feel utterly useless. You have no idea where Ellie might’ve run off to. It doesn’t help that some part of your brain is still occupied with James. You hated him in a way but still, he was there. You’ve known him nearly your entire life. It felt off to be the one to close his eyes. 

The storm had stopped. The sun reflecting from the snow irritating your eyes. Joel seems to be getting irritated with every step. Desperate. 

He’s the one that sees her first. 

Ellie staggers out the large building currently being engulfed in flames. Her walk is uncoordinated, her steps uneven as she breathes in the icy air. Before you can warn Joel not to startle her, he’s already running, grabbing her by the shoulders. Your heart shatters into a million tiny pieces when you hear her screams and shouts. 

“It’s me,” Joel says, cradling her face with both hands. She hits his chest with sideway fists, he holds her more firmly. “It’s me.” 

You see it in her face, the exact moment she realizes. You see blood splattered across her face, her expression hurts you. It’s the same expression you’ve seen on yourself for years. 

“Hey… look. It’s me… It’s me. It’s okay.”

She mumbles, “He—” Before Ellie can complete the sentence she wraps her thin arms around Joel, the man hugs her tight. Your heart shatters then. The damns you were so adamant on keeping locked being teared down by people you barely know. 

You cry. Salty tears just bursting out of your eyes. There’s no slow build, no single tear and then the rest. It just all comes down flooding. Your shoulders sag, your fingertips numb. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay, baby girl. I got you.”

You sniff and look up to the sky. Fuck. It’s so hard to stop when it begins. You see grey smoke rising into the crisp air. He’s dead. You don’t need to see the body to know that he is. 

Your eyes drop to the two survivors embracing infront of you. That girl saved your life while you were trying to save hers. You were too late. Both of you were. She looked the beast in the eye and slayed it. Freeing you. 

They part and Joel quickly wraps his jacket around her tiny trembling shoulders. You’re empty. What now? That was his question. You don’t know. Do you go back? Do you explain to the people who David manipulated just how horrendous he really was? Would they believe you? 

Your eyes are drawn to a flicker of movement. Joel is looking straight at you. Ellie still unaware of your presence and you can’t blame her. 

You’re lost. 

But then his eyes soften with something akin to understanding and he gestures you to follow. 

Like a lamb to a stream, you do. 

[fairyhaos]

Ꮺ cold ice, cinnamon smiles // lee seokmin

dokyeom x gn!reader, 1.6k words

tags: 1800s britain au, christmas au, ice skating, fluff, meet cute, strangers to lovers, seokmin is the 3 c's: cute and clumsy and chivalrous

warnings: none

notes: merry christmas everyone ^_^

summary: winter is a harsh time of the year, cold and merciless, but what happens when you meet a boy who has a smile warm enough to melt the coldest of ice?

When the weather gets cold enough, sometimes the river Thames will freeze over.

It’s utterly delightful, because it allows you to take out your skates, dress up as warm as possible, and spend several hours on the ice that had once been the river, breathing in the bitingly cold air and sighing in content.

This year, it's right on Christmas Eve, so it means there's the gentle, warm scent of cinnamon and nutmeg wafting through the air from the Christmas fairs set up along the river, as people skate over the recently-frozen surface, spending some time before their cherished holiday out on the ice.

There’s the chatter of children as they slide delightedly over the ice, the laughter of teenagers as they slip into each other, even the fond chuckles of adults as they help each other stay upright.

Your parents are out on the river somewhere, too, skating hand in hand, in their own world away from the shrieks and laughs of the public. 

It’s sweet.

Closing your eyes, you tilt your head back, gliding effortlessly across the river, cheeks stinging with cold but your mind feeling blessedly content when—

“Oh, do watch out!”

Your eyes fly open just in time to see a flurry of brown wool collide with you, and your hands shoot out almost instantly, staggering back a little to catch the person who had barrelled into you.

The stranger yelps, stumbling into your hold, and it’s a good thing that you’re a decently good skater because otherwise this person would have sent you both flying across the ice.

“Sorry, sorry, oh good Lord, I’m sorry,” the person apologises profusely, leaning out of your arms as soon as he gains his balance, brushing his hair out of his face with a finger, eyes wide and earnest and apologetic. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to just slam into you like that.”

You smile, ready to brush away his apologies, because really this could happen to anyone, but as you look properly at the stranger, your breath hitches in your throat.

Dark, soft hair falling into big, gentle eyes. Warm twinkles in his irises and winter-ruddy flushes of red on his cheeks that make him look like some sort of delicately crafted doll, and when he smiles shyly, it's like a ray of white gold light spilling over the grey landscape of winter.

This man is beautiful.

And he’s still apologising, over and over, and he’s brushing down the sleeves of your coat, checking that you’re okay, and you want to laugh a little because goodness, it seemed that this stranger was cute and beautiful.

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” you say, resting a hand on his arm to stay his fretful movements, smiling. “It’s okay, I’m completely fine.”

The man pauses, looking at you with worried eyes. “Are you sure?” he says. “You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?”

He goes back to patting you down again, and if it were any other man, you’d feel outraged at how he’s touching you so easily like this, but his hands are nothing but a gentle pressure over your arms, your shoulders, and the concern emanating from his touch.

“I’m okay, truly,” you say, laughing a little. “I’m strong,” you add, when he looks at you disbelievingly. “My mother has been teaching me to skate since I was little girl. We have a lake in our estate, you see, and in the winter, it always freezes over.”

His eyes widen at your words. “E—estate? Are you—oh, dear, which Lord is your father?”

He looks panicked, eyes widening even further and face falling in fear that he’s damaged the precious child of some haughty and terrifying aristocrat, and it’s so painfully adorable to you that you laugh again, shaking your head.

“No, no, nothing like that. My family and I are just… reasonably well-off,” you say. He still looks like he doesn’t believe you, though, so you stick a hand out. “I’m Y/N. Just plain old me, no fancy titles or anything. I promise.”

The man looks down at your hand, and then up at your face again, and something about your faintly smiling expression must convince him you’re telling the truth, because he grasps your hand firmly, eyes shining.

He doesn’t shake your hand, however, and adjusts his grip to delicately hold your fingers, bending down, making your eyes widen.

Gently, his lips brush against your knuckles, and he looks up at you with golden eyes. “Lee Seokmin,” he introduces, voice soft. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Heart in your throat, you can hardly take your eyes off of him as he smiles, a warm curling of his lips, warmer than the warmest cinnamon scent, glowing in the dim English winter light. Speechless, you watch as he straightens, still holding your hand, and he opens his mouth to say something before suddenly his eyes widen, and he tips backwards, a startled cry leaving his mouth.

Almost in slow motion, you feel yourself tug forward too, and the entire world falls to a hush as you collide into his chest, falling, falling, falling to land right on Seokmin as his back hits the cold ice of the Thames.

Seokmin blinks up at you, and his hair is a feathery soft mess around his head, the white ice giving him an almost angelic glow, and when his lips part around a soft “oh” you can’t help your gaze unintentionally flicking down towards the soft pink of his mouth.

And then everything hits you at once—especially the fact that you’re lying on top of him, in public—and you hurry to scramble off, cheeks flushing with more than just the cold.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, face heating up horribly fast, “I—Are you okay?” You hold out a hand to him, and after a moment of rapid blinking, Seokmin takes it, shakily getting to his feet with the help of your steady hands.

He really is rather wobbly on his skates. You wonder why he’s out here in the first place.

“No, goodness, I’m the one that’s sorry,” Seokmin says, and his cheeks are red too, redder than they were before the fall. “I’m so sorry for pulling you down with me.” He rubs at his cheeks, the action bashful and adorable as you worriedly brush ice flecks from his coat. “I really am rather terrible at skating.”

He looks down, embarrassed, looking rather like a dejected puppy, and you resist the urge to lean over and ruffle his hair.

Instead, you just hum, looking him up and down to avoid lingering to long on at the small pout forming on his face, lest you suddenly lose all self-control and try to kiss it away.

“I could teach you?” you offer. “Because luckily for you, I am rather good at skating myself.”

It’s honestly rather adorable how quickly he perks up at that, beaming. “Really? Oh, are you sure?”

You laugh at his eagerness, nodding. “Of course. We can’t have you colliding into any other people here, can we?”

Seokmin flushes, but his irises are shimmering awfully mesmerisingly, and as he smiles at you, you can’t help but do anything but smile widely back.

You’re about to say something when there’s a shout of your name in the distance, and you look behind you to see two familiar figures, waving and calling for you to come over to them. 

“Y/N, dear, it’s getting late! We ought to go home now,” your mother calls, and your heart sinks.

Seokmin seems to hear them shout too, because he chuckles a little regretfully, face falling, and he looks so sad that your heart squeezes painfully. “I suppose you need to leave,” he says. “It’s a shame I won’t be able to have my much-needed skating lesson from you.”

You turn back to Seokmin. “Wait, Seokmin—”

Before you can say anything, he grasps your hand gently, his fingers unusually warm despite the freezing temperatures that you’re currently standing in. And then he leans down (carefully, this time) and kisses your knuckles again, feather light.

“I hope to see you around, Y/N,” he says, and begins to shuffle away.

He doesn’t get far before you glide over and grab his collar insistently, almost making him fall over yet again.

He doesn’t, though, because you’re holding tightly, bringing his face close to yours.

“Meet me again,” you say, almost pleading. “Will you—will you please come here again tomorrow? I know that it’s Christmas Day tomorrow, and you’ll be spending time with your family but do you think you could? I… want to see you again.”

Seokmin’s eyes widen, and his face is so close that you can see the way his eyelashes flutter slightly, warmth spreading across his cheeks.

“Besides,” you add, flushing yourself, “I still need to teach you how to not fall for anyone else.”

It makes Seokmin laugh, a bright, ringing sound that makes you feel oddly giddy, and his face is crinkling into the most beautiful smile as he nods, still laughing.

“Of course,” he says, that gorgeous smile lighting up his entire face. “Of course, I’ll meet you here. You can teach me to fall for you only.”

It makes you blush, but when Seokmin leans in, tilting his head and pressing a brief kiss to your cheek, it has you blushing even harder than you even thought possible, eyes widening as the pressure is there and then gone, replaced with Seokmin’s bright eyes and his bright smile and his bright voice, gradually moving further away.

“Tomorrow,” he promises as he begins to shuffle away again. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow.”

You watch him go, giving him a shy wave, before finally he disappears amongst the crowd of people. Heart beating unusually fast, you turn to go as well, and the ruddiness of your cheeks is not just from the cold.

Giddy, you think of Seokmin’s lips on your cheek and your knuckles, of his fingers holding yours.

It makes you smile. Looks like you have a Christmas date.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

[star-wrote]

Daryl and reader’s first summer together ? Mood board or headcanon or whatever you like babes 😏🫶 I picture they’ve been together for the fall and a very long harsh winter, and the summer comes around and readers energy just starts to burst in response to the warmth and sunlight, and how that might look for them as a couple 🌻💛😁

Summer Lovin’

ao3 link

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Prison Era/After Farm Fell

A/N: tysm for the request love !! i adored writing this <3 also i’ve found that i struggle with staying in tenses so this switches from past to present tense :/ whoops

Warnings: typical TWD violence, poor mental health, fluff, angst

Word Count: 750

not my character | images from pinterest

Winter in the apocalypse sucks.

The group had been on the road for months now, grieving the loss of the Greene Farm; the loss of safety. Which also means the group was going through the harsh winter without a whole lot of warmth. Abandoned shacks and small campfires can only do so much.

You had been cold for too long, and you were sure that Daryl had grown annoyed with you complaining about your frozen toes when you huddled up against him at night.

Worst of all was your mental health. Obviously there’s always an air of depression, (it is the end of the world) but your thoughts were getting dangerously close to “hey let’s jump off that bridge!”

You didn’t want to burden Daryl, but after his gentle prying, you reluctantly agreed to tell him your thoughts. He did his best to reassure you, and he held you a little tighter that night.

Finally, the group had found the prison, a place that could be a forever home after the walkers get cleared. The weather had warmed up too over the last few weeks, and it was finally starting to feel like summer.

It was a pretty calm day, most of the group decided to relax for a day outside before trying to get into the prison. You recall passing a pond not too far from the prison walls. Deciding it was warm enough for a swim, you grabbed a blanket and your knife.

“Where are ya goin’ with that?” Daryl stepped in front of you, nodding at the stuff in your hands.

“Swimming. Wanna come with? I need a bodyguard.” You suggest while smiling up at him.

He grunts out what you have come to know as “yes,” and grabs his crossbow. “Ya sure it’s warm enough?”

You shrug. “Don’t care, I’ve waited long enough.”

He must’ve read your mind because he leads you out past the walls and to the pond that you saw while traveling with the group. You both quickly survey the area for walkers, feeling relieved after there seem to be none.

You strip down to your underwear and toss a smirk over your shoulder to a blushing Daryl, then giggle and wade your way into the pond.

Taking a moment to pause, you admire the sun reflecting off the water. You felt so happy in the warmth of the sun that you could cry.

Daryl watches from a distance, smiling at the peace and happiness that seems to be radiating off of you. He knew you had a tough time on the road during the winter. He was worried about you, but now he’s just glad that you’re smiling.

You swim and float around the pond for about thirty minutes, and then decide that you want to lay on the grass to dry off in the sun. You sigh as the warm grass envelops you.

“Come join me?” You smiled up at Daryl who was sat on a rock.

“Thought I was yer bodyguard.” He said while walking over to you anyway. He found out a long time ago that he couldn’t handle denying you anything.

You giggle as he groans as he lays down next to you. You start to cuddle into him but he gently shoves you away.

“Yer soakin’ like a wet dog righ’ now, dry off first.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, but comply. While putting on your t-shirt, you spot a patch of wildflowers and gasp. You run over to them.

This makes Daryl sit up immediately and grab his knife, anxiety filling his veins. He then sees that you found flowers and relaxes.

Walking over to you, he scoffs. “Scared me half to death, girl.”

While you were smelling the flowers, Daryl crouched down and picked one. He gently moved your hair out of your face and tucked the flower behind your ear. You blush and kiss his cheek.

“I’m glad yer feelin’ better. Was worried ‘bout ya.” He looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. “Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

You felt your heart flutter. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

You hugged him tight and stayed like that for a while. You started to hum a song and swayed in his arms.

Daryl scoffs and loosens up so you can sway his body for him. “Whatcha doin’ girl?”

“Dancing with you, duh.”

He smiles and tucks his head into your hair. “Please never stop bein’ you, sunshine.”

[lvoryingrid]

Healing Flames Chapter 1

Dabi x fem!Reader

Synopsis: In the tranquil ambiance of the veterinary clinic, the day unfolded with its routine of care and compassion. (Y/N), the dedicated vet with a water-controlling quirk, navigated through the responsibilities of healing both animals and, unknowingly, the wounds of those who sought solace within the small clinic's walls.

Warnings: This is my first fic, so please if you have any ideas to improve let me know <3

Thank you in advance!

As the first rays of sunlight gently streamed through the curtains, caressing the room with a warm and golden glow, (Y/N) stirred in her bed. The soft embrace of her comfortable mattress seemed almost reluctant to release her from its comforting hold. The morning sunlight played a delicate dance on the walls, creating patterns of brightness and shadows that painted the room with a warm serene ambiance. (Y/n), a dedicated veterinarian, lay for a moment in the delicate balance between the dream world and the waking one. The bed, with its warm and inviting softness, beckoned her to linger a bit longer. However, duty called, and she knew that she had to say farewell to her comfortable bed for a while. Reluctantly, she lazily opens one eye to look at the clock on the wall only to notice its only 7am, with a sigh she peeled herself away from the bed's embrace, feeling the cool floor beneath her feet, making her whole body shudder. The morning held a promise of a new day filled with the unique challenges and joys that came with her profession. But before all that she had to get ready for the day to come.

So she heads to the small bathroom, walking up to the sink, the mirror above it reflected her tired but determined gaze, and she met her own (e/c) eyes with a sense of purpose. The routine of getting ready was a familiar dance, a series of movements that transformed the sleepy girl into the capable and compassionate vet ready for whatever the world throws her way. But using her quirk really made this procedure easier. (Y/n) had a water-based quirk, she could control it, it’s temperature and even it’s consistency. She reaches to turn on the faucet, letting the sound of running water fill the room. Cupping her hands, she turned the cold water in her hands hot so she wont freeze and she splashed her face, feeling the refreshing feeling awaken her senses. Drops of water glistened on her skin like morning dew, and with each splash, she could sense the drowsiness of sleep giving way to the vitality of a new morning. Reaching for a her pink fluffy towel, she patted her face dry, revealing a refreshed and determined expression. The morning ritual continued as she moved through the motions of brushing her teeth, the rhythmic swish of the toothbrush a soothing melody to her. As she stood in front of the mirror, her fingers gently grasped the bristles of the hairbrush. The soft morning light streaming through the window accentuated the natural shine of her hair, which cascaded down her shoulders in gentle waves. She observed her reflection, appreciating the subtle transformation that came with each stroke. Her hair, now neatly combed, framed her face in a way that exuded both professionalism and a touch of effortless elegance. She decides that it would be best to hold her (H/C) hair in a bun so it wont be in the way of her work. Having completed her morning routine, she felt a sense of readiness and purpose as she left her small bathroom. Dressed in professional attire she wrapped herself in a cozy winter coat and a knitted scarf, perfect for this cold weather, and made her way to the front door.

On this winter morning, a serene blanket of snow enveloped the world outside, creating a hushed and magical ambiance. (Y/N), stepped out into the cold embrace of the winter season. Her breath formed gentle clouds in the crisp air as she locked the door behind her. The landscape was adorned with a fresh layer of snow, transforming the familiar streets into a pristine wonderland. The sunlight, filtered through the winter clouds, cast a soft, ethereal glow on the surroundings. The world seemed to pause, allowing her to appreciate the beauty of the season before another bustling day at work.

Her boots crunched against the snow-covered pavement as she navigated the winter landscape, each step leaving a temporary imprint on the white canvas beneath her. The morning held a special tranquility, a calm before the storm.

Arriving at the small veterinary clinic, nestled between towering buildings, she felt a sense of warmth and welcome, a stark contrast to the winter chill. The familiar scents and sounds of the room embraced her as she stepped inside. The radiators hummed, providing a comforting heat, and the clinic's windows offered glimpses of the winter scenery outside. Prepared for a day of caring for the little furry patients in need, she shed her winter layers and donned her professional attire. The clinic, though adorned with the charm of winter, was a haven of healing and compassion regardless of the season. If it wasn’t for her quirk she wouldn’t even be here, she thinks to herself, as with a subtle gesture, she summoned water into her hands, its fluid form responding to her every intention. The water became a conduit for her healing abilities, a channel through which she could transfer restoration and vitality.

The soft chime of a message pulled her attention away. Retrieving her phone from her bag, she noticed a familiar name lighting up the screen—Fuyumi, her childhood friend. The text, a gentle daily interruption to her morning routine, carried a sense of warmth and familiarity. ‘Good morning! How's your day shaping up?’ she asks. With a smile (Y/N) starts typing a response ‘Good morning! I’m good, how about you?’ she puts her phone on her desk, as she sets everything up for the day to come, the familiar chime rings once again. ‘I’m good too, Natsuo and I are going to visit mom in the afternoon we were wondering if you could join us today’ A sense of concern washed over her as she read Fuyumi's message about visiting their mom in the hospital. ‘I can’t today, I’m sorry I'm working late at the clinic today’. With a heavy heart, she pressed send. (Y/N) often regarded Rei as a comforting mother figure. Rei's kindness and nurturing nature provided a sense of warmth and stability in (Y/N)'s life. “That poor woman has been through a lot” she sighs as her phone rings once more showing another text from Fuyumi ‘It’s ok ^^ just don’t overwork yourself’ (Y/N) smiles at the text reminiscent of their close friendship.

Suddenly the jingling of the doorbell announced a new arrival, the girl looked up from her desk to see a person holding a small cat carrier. A gentle smile graced her face as she welcomed them into the clinic. "Hello! How can I assist you today?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes shifting to the curious feline peeking out from the carrier. “Good morning! I have an appointment for this little guy. His name is Oliver, he is getting neutered today” the young woman speaks, showing her love for her small companion. “Ah, perfect!” (Y/N), reaches at the pet carrier and writes down the woman’s information. “Everything is in order. We'll make sure the procedure goes smoothly.” she stares at the clock on top of the door and with a smile continues “You can come pick him up around 7pm”. The woman bids her goodbyes to Oliver, and with that (Y/N)’s duties for the day start.

The day was eventful to be sure and the clinic's ambiance shifted to a more serene state as the last appointments concluded. The dimmed lights and the soft hum of medical equipment hinted at the end of another fulfilling day dedicated to the well-being of animals. As the clock struck 9 pm, the clinic gradually quieted down. The day had been filled with various appointments, procedures, and the care that (Y/N) provided to the animal patients. She took a moment to review any remaining tasks, ensuring that everything was in order before closing for the night.

As (Y/n) sets everything up, getting ready for the next day, she hears the familiar chime of the door, indicating that someone entered the clinic. As she turns to greet whoever entered with a polite smile, looking up from her desk, her eyes widen meeting the urgent and sharp gaze of a man who seemed to be in pain, holding his bleeding stomach. “Heal me!”

Masterlist

[nothingbettertodotoday]

Xavier Thorpe x reader (y/n)

Warnings; none, no spoilers :)

Word Count: 1097

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Part 1 summary: You are a poltergeist with the powers of invisibility (cloaking), levitation and pyrotechnics. You come across Xavier's shed in the woods and spend the evening hanging out with him.

Author notes: we're going to pretend Ajax is Xaviers roommate this year, and roommates can change with each year! Thank you for all the likes on my first post (first ever posted fic!!), drop any comments if you have any idea where I should take this fic!

______________________________________________________________

You and Xavier stayed in the shed until the early hours of the morning, at this point the rain was much heavier, dripping water slowly came through cracks in the shed. Xavier already had a few buckets dotted around designated to hold the water. You both agreed to call it a night and head back to the dorms.

Xavier insisted on walking you back to your room, although it was more of a run back due to the weather. Xavier draped his arm over your shoulder, in an attempt to protect you from the rain. By the time you both got to the academy you were drenched. The boys dorms were closer than the girls, you and Xavier both agreed to find shelter there and deal with the outcomes later. You cloaked yourself nearer to the rooms just to be safe, Xavier always left a window open to make sure he could sneak back in.

Xavier held the window open for you, letting you in first, you uncloaked on your way in, you knew it would be safe. The only potential issue would be Ajax - Xavier's roommate, but you and Ajax had a decent friendship, you sat next to each other in Latin, and on far more than one occasion you had seen Ajax peaking at your notes, something you allowed your friend to do.

You were rushed into the bathroom by Xavier, it was away from Ajax’s side of the room, you both looked up and down at each other noticing how your clothes were completely soaked. You began laughing, Xavier looked at you and began laughing too, your laughs were infectious to each other. His laugh echoed along the bathroom walls, you had to put your hand over his mouth and shush him, which only made the both of you laugh even more.

Xavier slipped out the bathroom to get changed, he brought you in a baggy sweater and a pair of his boxers to let you change into. You could already tell the clothes would in no way fit. You waited for Xavier to leave the room and started to get changed, your body was covered in goosebumps from the cold wet clothes, you slipped the jumper over your body, you were right. The jumper almost reached your knees. You glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your hair was pulled back into two plaits, these would be okay for the night at least, Xavier's jumper actually suited you quite well you thought.

You headed back into the bedroom, Xavier was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. The one positive of attending a rich boarding school is that the beds were generally a little larger than a standard single, don't get me wrong the idea of being squeezed next to Xavier all night wasn't the worst thought in the world, but you could only imagine what Bianca would think of the situation. You sat down next to Xavier, the warmth emitting off him could warm your body up in seconds, he looked across at you, noticing the goosebumps that still hadn't quite vanished. 

“Here, come get warm” Xavier pulled back the quilt on his bed, motioning for you to get in. You obliged, embracing the warmth that now surrounded you. Xavier pulled himself into the bed next to you, his one arm slid underneath your neck, the other lay on your thigh. Xaviers bed sheets made you feel safe, the woody smell of Xaviers cologne covered the sheets, only getting stronger the longer you were in bed together. 

“Is that better?” Xavier asked you, you nodded, your eyes were starting to get heavy, you could tell you would be asleep very soon. You turned to face Xavier, even lying down he seemed to tower over you, your head was so close to being buried in his chest, but first you checked, “Is this okay?” You asked Xavier. 

“Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?”

“Because of Bianca.”

“Well actually, I’ve been meaning to mention, she, us were not a thing anymore” Xavier paused, “that’s actually why I was in the shed tonight, needed a distraction”.

“Oh Xav, I'm sorry”, you really did feel bad for him, you might not have been close with Xavier but he and Bianca always looked happy together.

“Honestly, it's fine, it was never going to work out”, Xavier whispered, “anyway you should get some sleep”, Xavier brushed a strand of hair out of your face, placing his hand back down on your hip. You pulled in closer to him, leaning your head on his chest, it wasn't long until you were unconscious.

Sunlight peeked through the curtains of Xaviers room, you squinted as you came to, trying to make out the surroundings in the daylight. You could hear rushing water coming from the shower, you glanced over and Ajax appeared to not be in his bed, you realised Xavier wasn't in his either.

The shower cut off, and minutes later Xavier was in the doorway, his trousers were on and he was buttoning his shirt up, you glanced over and were unable to take your eyes away until Xavier spoke up “Like what you see?” he teased. 

You snapped out of it, “Guess I've woken up to worse”, you laughed. “What time is it?”.

“8:15, you've got 45 minutes before classes start, Ajax has already headed down to breakfast” Xavier answered. 

You groaned, flopping your head back onto Xaviers pillow, you completely forgot what day it was and that you had classes. Xavier reached his hand out, helping you up out of bed, only when you were standing did you realise you might as well have been wearing nothing on your bottoms, Xaviers boxers had ridden up your legs showing off most of your thigh. You grabbed your joggers from the back of Xaviers chair and pulled them on quickly. “Hope you don't mind me wearing this out”, you asked Xavier while indicating the jumper and boxers, Xavier shrugged it off. 

You cloaked yourself on the way out, you would be in so much trouble if anyone spotted you, student or staff. Once you got back to your room you showered in a hurry and changed into your uniform, you just about had time to put a bit of makeup on and grab a breakfast bar on your way to class. You realised on your way out, your first class of the day was Botanical Science, you haven't even done your homework and a certain someone was going to be in that class.

[msfantasy]

Betrothed to a Gaunt

Part 3

Summary: Mc is betrothed to Ominis Gaunt. Gaunt family dinner.

Warning : I made up some names for story sakes.

The Slytherin common room door swings open as Sebastian steps through the passage way, he sees MC standing by the fireplace, patiently waiting for Ominis to descend the stair case.

From behind he can see her long gown dragging behind her. The crystals around her neck glittering in the soft candle light. Her hair pressed neatly in place.

"Words cannot describe how stunning you look." MC gently bends her neck looking towards Sebastian, holding a soft smile on his lips. A blush rushes along her cheeks at the compliment.

"Thanks Seb - I wish you could come. I'm terrified to meet these people." Sebastian kicks shyly at the carpet.

"Yes well... I suppose I should tell Ominis to hurry up. You should never keep such a lovely lady waiting." Sebastian ascends the stair case a moment later Ominis is in the common room, apologising for the delay.

"Come MC, the carriage is waiting downstairs." Ominis reaches his arm out for grabbing.

------

The heavy entrance door creeps open to the Gaunt Manor. The home too grand, it's unfitting to be called a home.

"I had no idea your family was this loaded." MC gasps in aw. "This place looks like you could change bedrooms every night for a month." Ominis smiled in amusement.

"It is a great place for hide and seek." Ominis presses his elbow into her side.

"Ominis - marry me, if not for love, then for the worlds best game of hide and seek." He laughs tenderly at the silly declaration.

"I accept." He says with the toothiest grin you've ever seen.

Entering the smoking parlour, MC's grip tightens on Ominis arms as all eyes rake over the girl.

Ominis mother stands before the couple in a tight poised posture, reaching her cold hands out for a greeting. Her clothes layering immaculately, hair positioned precisely. "Pleasure meeting you, welcome to our family." A hollow smiled pressed on her face, the empty pleasantries coming so unnaturally from the Gaunt's lips.

"Agreed." Ominis father adds in a low hum. Seemingly uninterested. The father retreats back to his paper. A young man, presumably Marvolo, stands idly in the coroner rolling his eyes. A protective hand presses against the small of her back as Ominis's mother guides you two to sit.

"Y/n, may i ask if you are experiencing any ... reservations over the arrangement." His mothers eyes gaze upon you with such criticism, there would be no use in lying.

"To be quite honest with you, no. It's not the decision I would've made, but, it is a decision I am slowly accepting." His mothers lined lips curled ever so slightly.

"Oh? Why is that?" His mother asks, eyes focusing throughly on yourself.

"I envisioned marrying a person I love romantically... not platonically..." His mothers lips curl down ever so slightly.

"Yes well... it's hard to love a cripple, even with magic as a crutch." The words slide off her tongue effortlessly, as if she were casually mentioning the warm weather.

"Ominis is plenty capable." You defended. His mother shrugged indifferently.

"Arranging a marriage for my dear Marvolo was easy, just about every pure blood family wanted to nominate their daughter to carry on the blood line." His mother smiles affectionately towards Marvolo before returning an empty glance towards Ominis. "Arranging a marriage for Ominis is challenging. No one wants to marry a cripple of course." His mother scoffs flicking her hair behind her shoulder. "The only candidate was 42 year-old Lucinda Crabbe, of course, we are delighted that your Uncle Archie offered your hand instead." She smiles raising her glass before sipping.

Shock ran through your veins at the news. "So if i do not proceed with marrying Ominis... he will have no choice but to marry someone the same age of his parents." Y/n asks, feeling Ominis hand grip tighter on his back.

His mother nods in agreement. "Well of course, who else would marry him?" She snorts.

The vile news sank deeply in the pit of your stomach, making you feel sick. Poor Ominis sits indifferently, completely accepting of his unfortunate fate.

The evening continued with dry and uncomfortable conversations to accompany the worlds worst dinner party. Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days.

Finally, the evening concluded. You gave your pleasantries at the door, wishing the Gaunt's a nice evening. Stepping into the carraige with Ominis in suit sitting across from you.

Tears fall down your flustered face in frustration. His family spent the evening digging and scrutinising all aspects of what makes Ominis his wonderful self.

Here Ominis sits before you, his stoic face indicating nothing.

The realisation of Ominis's reality hit you like a ton of bricks. This was Ominis's everyday life, and all you wanted to do was pick him up and run away with his sweet self.

Tears pore out in buckets, kneeling, you look up into Ominis statuesque face. "Is that what it's like for you?" He leans down patting your head as you cry into his lap.

"Kind of... they were nicer than usual." He says gently, placing small comforting strokes on your head.

"That was nice?!" He nods solemnly.

"Ominis... if I break the engagement, will you marry Lucinda Crabbe?" His movements halter.

"Well.... yes... I would have no other choice." He says impassive.

Tear's silently steam with quite sniffles. Ominis continuing to comfort you.

"Would you prefer to marry me?" You ask quietly.

"Over Lucinda? Yes." He answers bluntly. It was in that very moment you made a decision. You care too greatly for Ominis to abandon him like this.

[thronesforkings]

Can I request uuuuh smiley x male reader fluff

Maybe they go on a cute date and Toman catches them?

Title: Pictures

Requested?: Yes ^^

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Male!Reader x Kawata (Smiley) Nahoya; Toman (Takemichi x Hina, Draken x Emma)

TW/CW: Swearing (Note, most of my stuff will have swearing as I do swear in my regular speech and it slips into my writing)

Notes: I did this instead of doing my final project/semester finals :3 I also looked up festivals in Japan in December and found many cool ones that are happening this year (some are done every year but some I found are only this year)

Word Count: 1,194

=====

Nahoya loved to fight, that was known of the captain, but it was less known that he loves the outdoors more than fighting. There was only one thing that topped both of those and that was (Name), his wonderful boyfriend. 

(Name) wasn’t known by the others, he was Nahoya’s little secret. While (Name) was in the gang and in his division, he was rarely talked about since he didn’t stand out to the others. It was a surprise when Nahoya found him injured in an alleyway while walking home after going to the shop. He had heard of the boy and knew he was in his division but it wasn’t until he helped the other male out that love blossomed.

The peach haired male was pulling a confused male who was only told to dress for the weather. (Name) had a smile on his face as he studied Nahoya’s face, his smile less prominent but full of emotions, his eyes scrunched up and slightly covered by his hair (which made it hard for (Name) to see Nahoya’s excitement for this mystery), and the pink that dusted his face due to the cold weather. 

“We’re almost there! You’re going to love this!” Smiley spoke and the two continued on for a little longer before (Name) saw a glow of blue lights. The blue got closer as they eventually stood at the start of a path that was illuminated. 

“Ao no Dokutsu! They have benches through the path and I brought some snacks. I come here every year to see the lights.” (Name) smiled as he listened, a light laugh escaping his lips and he squeezed Smiley’s hand. 

“Thank you. I’ve heard of this, it’s prettier in person than just seeing photos.” (Name)’s voice was distant as he admitted the lights and how calming the area was. 

“Well let’s just relax then!” Nahoya tightened his grip on (Name)’s hand, the two going down the path and admiring the lights. 

“Woah, how did you find this place?” Chifuyu asked Takemichi. This was supposed to be a date for him and Hina but Emma was told about it and so her and Draken tagged along. Since they had a captains meeting earlier, they just hung out a bit (Smiley left in a hurry and refused to answer any of their questions) before going to this place. The others tagged along since they move as a pack. 

“Uh, My mother took me here when I was younger. I haven’t been here in a few years though, so I thought this would be a nice place to go.” Takemichi responded and glanced at Hina, who wasn’t annoyed about the others tagging along (unlike him) and was talking to Emma. 

“Let’s just walk through this place so we can go somewhere warm, it’s fucking cold out here.” Draken said as his cheeks were flushed red, partially from the cold but the girl clinging to his arm was the main reason why he was red. 

“It’s winter, you should know to dress warmer.” Mitsuya jabbed at him and the group slowly made their way into the attraction. 

Nahoya and (Name) had stopped a couple times and now were roughly halfway through the path, sitting eating the sweets that were brought along. (Name) was admiring the lights and in his own world until the sound of a click got his attention. 

“Oops.” Smiley had a shit eating grin on his face as (Name) blushed and tried to grab the other’s phone. 

“Delete it.” (Name) said as he watched his boyfriend fake pout. 

“You’re so cute though! I barely have any photos of you.” Smiley said and (Name) was about to retort back but stopped with an idea. He took his phone out and took a photo of the other male in retaliation, copying his grin. 

“Huh?” Nahoya was confused until he realised that his picture was taken. It was now his turn to blush and try to grab the phone. In reality neither of them were serious about deleting the photos but they both had their own reactions. 

“I’m a scary gang member, there should be no proof of me being soft.” Nahoya said as the two were now closer together. (Name) laid on the ground with his arm extended away from Nahoya while the other was on top of him and had put his phone in his pocket, using one hand to make sure he didn’t fall onto (Name) and the other trying to get the phone from where he was. 

“You’re not that scary.” (Name) said with a grin before laughing at the other’s flushed face and had looked away from him. 

“Only for you.” Nahoya muttered and (Name) swore he felt time stop for a moment. He looked at him and was filled with nothing but happiness. 

Feeling lips connected to his, it had pulled a squeak out of him, surprised but quickly kissed back and only focused on his boyfriend. The two pulled away with lovesick smiles and their breath in the air. (Name) was quick to take a photo of Nahoya who just laughed, the other joining him. 

“I didn’t think other people were going to be here, this is the quietest time when I looked it up.” Takemichi said as the group heard laughter while walking. It was getting closer as they continued on and it wasn’t until a gasp was heard that everyone stopped walking. 

“So many things suddenly make sense.” Souya spoke and the others saw the other twin with someone laying next to him on the ground. They silently watched as the two were calming down and soon enough kissed again. 

Draken grinned and let out a whistle, surprising the two who had now noticed the group. (Name) and Smiley both had widened their eyes in surprise to see the other gang members (read: higher ups). 

“Shit.” Nahoya said quietly as his brother ran up to them and hit him on the head. 

“You didn’t even tell me! You’re so rude.” Souya said and (Name) put a hand over his mouth to hide his laughter. 

“Hah? I would’ve told you if you ever asked, idiot!” He retorted back and (Name) snorted, soon breaking out into laughter. 

“I have to agree with your brother, that was kind of rude of you to not tell him. I mean, I told my older sister/brother.” (Name) spoke and Souya grinned.

“I’m Souya.” (Name) nodded as he spoke and waved the others over. 

“I’m Seto (Name). Nice to officially meet all of you. Nahoya doesn’t have to make up excuses any more though, for why he suddenly leaves.” The group nodded and soon enough Mikey joined them on the ground. 

“So, do you have any dumb photos of Smiley?” Mikey asked and (Name) laughed while he opened his phone.

“Oh I have many.” Nahoya gasped in betrayal but soon enough he was stopped by Souya asking him questions about how they met. He sighed and let a small smile tug on his lips as he watched his boyfriend be happy and relaxed, deciding that maybe he will have to take more photos of (Name) after this.

[fluff-foraxil]

Until the end (Doflamingo X F!Reader) - 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 9

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - . - Chapter 10

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Ah! It's me! This might not be my best chapter, but I promise the next ones will be better just believe in me and my tired brain :,) ANYWAY, how are you beautiful people doing? :)

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~ 11 years later ~

(Y/N) was sitting by the pool of the castle, the gorgeous weather of Dressrosa did nothing to mitigate her. Doflamingo was getting back after participating in the Summit War on Marineford. She knew about the death of Portugas D. Ace, the defeat of Whitebeard, the arrival of not only Shanks but also Blackbeard; the world was entering a new era, a new scary dangerous era as more pirates were roaming free than even before. Things had changed in those years, Doflamingo took over Dressrosa, he became the most known broker of the underworld under the nickname Joker, he welcomed Monet and Sugar into his family and, unexpectedly, got married. It happened 8 years ago, after the fall of the Riku family; the kingdom of Dressrosa had just been rebuilt to look like it did now, when Doflamingo asked (Y/N)’s hand. The man trusted her with his heart, body, and soul to death, even though he was cold and manipulating, he still had his own demons to fight, and she showed him that he was not alone, she showed him that there were good people in that hellhole called Earth. Even after their marriage, she was still actively working for him, dealing with business, and taking care of their family, as Doflamingo said one night. (Y/N) was brushing Monet’s hair while Sugar, her younger sister, was happily eating grapes. The sisters shared a special bond with her since the first day; they would follow her around and wait for her to return from her missions, going to her whenever they needed help, asking for her advice when they had doubts, seeking her comfort after a nightmare. «Your hair always looks so lovely Monet», she complimented. «You’re too kind, (Y/N)-sama», the girl blushed. Monet and Sugar were rescued by Doflamingo, he took them in after seeing the awful conditions they were living in and for that reason they pledged their loyalty to him. She clearly remembered the day she met them after Doflamingo brought them back into the ship.

~ Flashback ~

«And who are this lovely girls?», (Y/N) put on her kindest smile. «Monet and Sugar», Doflamingo replied pointing to each one. They looked scruffy, dirty, and malnourished so, being the good person she was, she immediately took them to take a bath. They followed her without any question, they watched as (Y/N) filled a big bathtub with warm water and a floral scented bubble bath, before laying down some fluffy towels and clean clothes for them. «I’m (Y/N), by the way», she broke the silence, «I hope the clothes will fit you, but don’t worry we will get you more once we reach the next island». «Thank you, (Y/N)-sama», Monet was hugging her sister close. She bent down to be at eye level with the green haired girl. «You’re welcome», she patted her head, «Now, come on, your bath is ready. I’ll be just outside so call me if you need anything, ok?». After they were all clean and dressed, she did their hair and lead them into the dining room where supper was already served. The rest of the family had just started eating, (Y/N) sat them with the other young members of the crew before taking a seat beside Doflamingo; the two girls were a bit unsure and wary of the others, but opened up seeing that they were being treated nicely. «You still have your magic touch when it comes to youngsters», Doflamingo commented while they were alone in their cabin. «I sure do», she kissed him, «After all I deal with a man-child every day of my life». «Fair enough», he chuckled, not taking her statement seriously.

~ End of flashback~

«Welcome back, Doffy», she didn’t look up from what she was doing. She felt his presence as soon as he stepped on the island. Her observation haki grew stronger, she could feel people from miles away without effort; her combat skills got better with time as well, she still wasn’t on Doflamingo or the elites’ level but if she could complete her missions without failing that was alright. «Missed me?», he kissed her. Sugar stuck her tongue out, showing her disagreement in showing love like that, hugs or a kiss on the cheek would have been better in her opinion. «A lot. Did you miss us?», she said referring to their family. «Obviously. Could you come inside after you’re done? I have something to tell you», he smiled, leaving a kiss on her cheek. Monet was patiently waiting for (Y/N) to finish braiding her hair, the golden ring on the older girl contrasting with the locks of green hair she was holding. The girl finished the braid, but looked at it, unconvinced; looking around she told the girl to wait for her as she picked up a gazania flower and added it into the girl’s braid, securing it to make sure it wouldn’t fall out. «I’m done, Monet», she declared. Monet stood up, stretching her limbs, her pale complexion looked out of place in such a sunny nation; plus, it was weird how she wasn’t melting considering her devil fruit power. «Thank you, (Y/N)-sama», she bowed. «There is no need to bow, we are family», she assured the other girl it wasn’t necessary to use such formalities with her. (Y/N) felt Doflamingo’s presence in their bedroom, the Warlord had just gotten out of the shower and was now sprawled on the couch with just his pants on staring outside the window, a bottle of his favourite liquor in hand. The golden ring was shining as the sun hit its surface. «How is my queen doing?», he asked without turning to look at her. «She’s doing great now that her king is back. Did you enjoy the war?», she walked up to his, hugging him from behind and kissing the side of his neck. Then she walked around the couch to sit beside him, nestling on his side, the feathers of his coat tickling her skin. «Very much», he chuckled. Doflamingo was so enthusiastic to have been present in such a crucial point in time. Raising his hand to bring her face closer to his, he kissed her deeply; his nightmares had completely vanished since she started sleeping by his side, his mood in general had improved as well since they became an official couple, even more after they got married; many women tried to catch his attention at social gatherings held in Dressrosa or on other islands, but Doflamingo was loyal and only had eyes for the woman that made him feel better than ever. «I got something for you», he said after breaking the kiss. (Y/N) looked at him, waiting to see what he got for her. Even though Doflamingo was a wealthy man now, he would bring her gifts just if he found one that really reminded him of her or if the object in question was as precious as his beloved; he was walking back to the castle, greeted by his subjects, when he stopped after catching the sight of a stone with a deep blue-violet hue. It was mounted on a ring, the stone was cut in a circular shape with a sort of vine made of little white diamonds and white gold curled on one side of it, the band was adorned with little white diamonds as well; he didn’t think too much and went inside to get it, once he was inside the jewellery shop he also got a pair of earring and a necklace to go with it.

Once she opened the box he handed her, (Y/N)’s jaw fell to the floor. «The jeweller said the stone they have on is one of a kind», he explained, «It’s a type of gem that can be found only on one island and it’s also very difficult to extract». Doflamingo wasn’t big on words of affection, but she never complained about it, after all everyone had their qualities and flaws. He loved her even more for that, for being able to accept every part of him without making him feel wrong nor shaming him. «You didn’t have to, Doffy», she put the box down carefully before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him all over his face, «I was thinking about taking a night for ourselves, you know, like we used to do. Going out for dinner, then coming home, taking a relaxing bath together». He took her hand in his, kissing her fingertips. «I would love to», he accepted her request. She flashed him one of her sweet smiles, those smile that made him warm on the inside and made him ask himself how he could have gotten so lucky; since he was a child, after losing his title, he worked hard to achieve his goals, his mind constantly working and calculating the next steps and moves. He was getting tired, but when he was at his lowest, he found her, a plain commoner girl whose kindness he repaid by giving her a place to call home, someone he thought wasn’t going to play a part in anybody’s life was now his wife, his home, his safe place. «Then I better check If I have the right dress for the occasion», she kissed him, «I missed you, I was worried, you’re strong I don’t deny it, but I was just… just worried». «My Queen, I’m here with you now and I always will be», he wasn’t big on the sweet talk, but there were rare moments where he would let her know his feelings by words. The other members of the family wouldn’t worry about Doflamingo facing other pirates or the Marine, they knew he was strong but still, having someone care for you so much was the best feeling in the world. (Y/N) was going through her wardrobe, looking at all the clothes she owned, she tried to find the right outfit for their date. She remembered purchasing a dress recently that she was reserving for a very special occasion, but she couldn’t find it. «Which restaurant would you like to go to, my love?», Doflamingo asked from the couch. «We could go to your favourite one», she suggested while diving into the wardrobe. Pushing aside, looking closely, inspecting every dress, she finally found it. It was a vintage pale pink off shoulder dress, it had long puff sleeves and a bustier that kept the dress tight-fitting on the waist area while the skirt was loose to her move freely. It wasn’t a fancy dress, but she was a simple girl when it came to clothes. After taking it out a laying it down on the bed, (Y/N) looked at her husband who had taken off his glasses and was leaning his head back as he kept his eyes closed; she melted at the sight, one of the most feared men on earth looked like an ordinary man in that moment. Tip toeing to him, she took his face in her hands as he opened his eyes. She traced the scar on his left eyes before kissing it. «I love you, (Y/N)», he whispered. She rarely heard those words from him. «I love you too, Doffy, I love you more than anything», she replied before kissing his lips with passion. The married couple cuddled on the couch, music in the background, while enjoying each other company. (Y/N) was focused on listening to Doflamingo’s heartbeat, it soothed her, so whenever she felt anxious or stressed, she just needed to cuddle with her husband to make everything better. «I’m going to take a shower, care to join me?», she kissed his knuckles. «Have I ever refused?», he chuckled. Doflamingo could proudly say he had a family, a real family after all those years of suffering.

[rubbercasing]

adelaide under moonlight

cw: some gore and viscera

the night is quiet at 3 AM. in the Michigan cold of the week past Martian ides not even the peepers chirp in the waxing moonlit bright. at this hour there is but one car in the road.

in a red shitbeater truck half rusted at the undersides from winter salt and aged abuse, a young woman sits at the wheel. her leather flight jacket, a scratched up she/her pin and "a better world is possible" pin tagged to a pocket, tucks a greasy black fastfood uniform close to her uncomfortably sweaty skin, the once warm moisture drawn clammy with the chill air. the heater hasn't warmed yet.

a nametag beneath the jacket reads "Adelaide".

she's distracted, admittedly. she self-consciously thumbs at a bit of hardly noticable stubble on her chin. the drive home is always long at this hour. her attention, usually rapt to the narrow two lane highway (as well as it can be when exhausted) is instead drawn away to the phone in her hand, its Bluetooth on and connected to a speaker in the passenger seat; the console of the truck still ran a tape deck she didnt have casettes for.

she doesn't notice the deer. not until it's too late, of course. her training as a driver quickly echoes bullhorn-like through her skull: don't swerve, brake. she slams the pedal as hard as she can, keeping the wheel steady. she braces for impact.

impact never arrives. adelaide watches as her truck rapidly disassembles piece by piece, it's hood shooting away as if possessed by the hand of God - but it doesn't end there, for each part in front follows like a wave outward: the radiator grill tears assunder, fan blades shred, a battery is reduced to its component lead and acid and casing respectively, a piston comes free from the engine, then another and another, until the front cabin and front chassis are stripped bare like a carcass in the desert sun.

but it continues. the frame, the wheels, the glass, all torn away with the cold grace of a tornado's breeze. it crumbles to unfine dust, all of it in pieces at once, but to the poor girl in the driver's seat the once is many moments, cycles of eternity in terror transfixed over brown eyes. the steering wheel, the driver's console, the tape deck, flies away like birds fleeing catastrophic weather. the first pieces of debris make impact with the road, skidding with unholy screeches and pings of ricochet.

but it continues. after the steering column the wave of destruction consumes adelaide. her hands shred apart bone by bone, muscle and tendon unhooking from sinew; and then greater as bone unhooks from marrow, vein unhooks from interstitial matrix, arteries unhook from capilaries, joints unseat and separate. her sinew sprays apart in neat lines, meat lines, their strands unweaving less like the total body disruption of a grenade and more like a careful undoing of fabric stitches. she screams but it is cut short as her teeth unslot from her jaw with sickening noise, tongue unsticks from the bottom of her mouth, and aveoli are split into bubbles of cellular interface. blood, at last, begins to splatter against what remains to splatter against. the rest becomes fine mist.

adelaide's eyes lock with the deer's cold black beads as they are torn from her sockets. the moonlit night goes black. all is truly quiet.

gasping.

She wakes up gasping, already running. Her lungs ache for air as if they have never before, loud body shaking pants echoing in the night air around her.

the ground feels rough and graveled beneath Her paws, Her body lunging in long strides forward as She flees the horrible screech of sirens and flaring lights. it's cold; the frost aches and chills against Her fur, matted and bloody with shards of glass and metal. the scared beast skitters off the highway black into dew-tippled green, leaving a trail of red dripping from Her shaggy coat as She runs, runs as fast as the wordless thought in Her mind can carry Her, through fields and forward through forests as fences flatten under her stride. run, gotta run, gotta run away. the frightened limb numbing adrenaline of flight or fight carries Her long into the moonlight, even as behind the gargantuan, sinewy beast, a coterie of ambulances and firetrucks pull up to the flaming wreckage of a red pickup truck circa 1995 pulled apart so meticulously as to not be even recognizable as a truck, even while a deer near by eats from the lowest boughs of a maple.

the night is quiet at 3 AM. in the Michigan cold of the week past Martian ides not even the peepers chirp in the waxing moonlit bright. at this hour there is but one car in the road - scattered and disassembled, surrounded by parked emergency vehicles.

[seenoversundown]

Sparrow Of the Dawn : Chapter 3

Sam x Willa (Fem OC) Warnings: Cursing and some light bickering, otherwise a lot of bad luck.

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary : Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

Author's Note: This chapter is a bit lighter on the word count, but take it as the calm before the storm 😉 (next week may or may not be a long one)

Boston - Augustana "I think I'll go to Boston, I think I'll start a new life I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather"

My blaring alarm clock jolts me from my sleep. It should be illegal to need to be awake at 4:30 a.m.; even Penelope lets out a little “boof” in protest. I rub my knuckles across my lids, trying to wipe away the sleep. 

“You and me both, Penny girl.” I whisper into her fur, gently petting her face, “Rest a little longer, and then you get to go see Uncle Daniel.” Alas, I have a train to catch. I can't take the chance of driving Edith all the way to Boston. I don't even think she’d make it to Portsmouth at this rate. 

Lethargy is so heavy in my bones as I drag my body to the shower. The scalding water helps to wake me up, but not enough. God, I need coffee. Regret fills me as soon as the water is off and the cold air attacks me once again. 

After I quickly get dressed, I hustle through the rest of my morning routine, trying to ensure I stay on time. Finally, I wrap my scarf around my neck and knot it before slipping on my coat. “Okay, headphones, bag, camera, keys,” I mumble out loud,  mentally checking things off my list. “Time.” 5:02am. At least I’m on time, calling out “Penelopeeee” in a sing-song tone. She comes running from around the corner, jumping up on me. “Woahh, down, girl.” I hook her leash onto her collar and lead her out the door, closing and locking it behind me.

It's only a short walk to Daniel’s apartment, and the morning air bites at my face. I pull my scarf up a little higher to cover the lower half of my face. My breath heats the fabric, a small salvation. Piles of snow where it had been plowed into snow banks still present, the sun not yet strong enough to melt it this time of year. Let alone this time of day. Penelope stops to sniff just about every flower she comes across, delaying my trip. 

I march up the brick steps, and the porch light flicks on, allowing me better vision. The sun won’t make an appearance for another hour or so. I wrap my knuckles against the wooden door a few times before Daniel opens it. The sight of him causing me to chuckle.  

“Good morning, sunshine.” giving him a beaming smile. If looks could kill, I would definitely be dead. Sweatpants slung low on his hips, fuzzy socks on his feet, no shirt on, and curls in complete disarray.  He shivers when the breeze crosses the entryway. 

“Of course, this is the one time you’re actually on time,” he whines. “Did you honestly have to leave so early?”

“Unfortunately for us both, Daniel, yes. There was only one train into Boston that would get me there on time, and I can’t be late for this. Miss Penny has already gone to the bathroom, so that should give you a few hours at least.” I hand him her leash and she enters the house. “As much as I would love to stay and chit-chat..” trailing off as I turn to head back the way I came. 

“Come on, Penny girl, at least we get to have a cuddle. We’ll get out of Daddy’s hair so he can join the world of the employed.”

“Very funny, Asshole,” I call over my shoulder, flipping him off.

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If I was smart, I would have started Edith before I left to drop off Penny, giving her time to warm up and the frost to melt off the windshield; apparently, I have chosen the path of idiot this morning. I sit in the cab, turning the key repeatedly, and she won’t start. Panic rises in my chest, listening to the sound of the engine refusing to turn over. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” I grunt out, “not today, not today.” I pause and take a deep breath, exhaling through my nose, creating a cloud in the chilly air. “Come on, baby, you can do it.” I turn the key once more, and her engine roars to life. Breathing a sigh of relief, I rest my head against the steering wheel, “oh, thank god.” 

I speed off toward the train station, not wishing to waste any more time. 

When I arrive, the train is already stopped, and boarding. “Oh fuck” I breathe out. Grabbing my bag and rushing to the platform, I nearly slip on a patch of ice before I make it. But I do make it. Just before the crew member shuts the doors. I breathe out a sigh of relief for the second time and find a seat in the back of the economy car I paid for, a double seat. The closer we get to the city, the busier it will get, and I don't want to have to worry about sitting near a bunch of passengers. 

Jesus Christ that was cutting it too close. I wait for the train to start moving before I pull out my AirPods and put them in my ears. I scroll through my playlists looking for the right thing for this trip. Finally settling on a song, I click play. The song sounding muffled when I realize that it’s playing from my phone, shit. I turn the volume down as quickly as possible, trying to keep my eyes on my phone as I feel everyone around me look over. What is in the air today? Letting out a sigh as I pull my AirPods back out and place them back into their case. I drop my head back against the seat, close my eyes, and just listen to the sound of the train moving. 

I jolt myself awake with a small gasp. Please tell me they didn’t leave me on the train, and now I’m in Canada or something. I tap on my phone, 7:55 a.m., Thank GOD. Only a few more minutes and the train is slowing into the station. 

I finally make it off the train, and I’m trying to hustle through the station until I see a Dunkin sign glowing at me. My stomach grumbles as I look at it; I can grab something.. I’ll definitely make it still.  

“Can I get a medium hot caramel swirl latte with oat milk and the bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel.. But no bacon, please?” Met with a simple ‘mhm’ from the cashier. I pull out my phone to pay, and seeing 8:10 a.m., my stomach feels nervous again. 

It only takes a couple minutes before my name is called. I grab everything and practically run through the station to find the exit. I finally make it outside and check my maps to see where I’m going, grateful that it’s not too far from here. I slide my phone back into my pocket; I only need to walk a few streets down. I carefully pull the sandwich out of the bag, excited to eat something after the morning that i’ve had. Fuck me; I see the fleshy piece of bacon sticking out as soon as I peel the wrapper away from the bagel. I stare at it for a minute, trying to decide if it’s worth the hassle of pulling the bacon out. Deciding against it, god forbid it makes my stomach feel worse while I’m here, I toss the sandwich at the next trash can I pass and take a huge gulp of my latte, hoping it fills my stomach a little. Thankfully, my drink is perfect, and at this point, I’m going to take whatever win I can get. For the love of everything holy, I need the rest of today to go smoothly. 

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The building is easy enough to find. I thank the lucky stars that at least one part of this journey wasn't difficult. I open the heavy metal door and head up the steps to the main floor toward the elevator. A plaque sits between the two elevators above the recall buttons. “Boston Globe - Floor 4 Suite 213.” I take a deep breath and press the arrow pointing up. I can feel the nerves in my belly, like butterflies buzzing around. Little wings flapping, sending gentle ripples of unease through me. I can’t mess this up. I have to make a good first impression. Working in conjunction with two major newspapers in different states is a big opportunity. It would put my name in the minds of people who could help me break into this job market. One I’ve been trying to work my way into since I graduated. This has to be it. The elevator dings, and my heart skips a beat, setting my nerves on edge even further. 

Once the elevator arrives on the 4th floor, I step out looking for the closest suite number to gain my sense of direction. I solidify my bearings and head toward the right. A few doors down is 213. I open the door and the first person I see is a petite blonde woman. I scan the room; everyone is staring at me. Oh, this feels awkward.

“Hi, Can I help you?” her voice is high like I expected, but much quieter. 

“Uhm, I’m looking for James Boucher with the Boston Globe?” My eyes dart back and forth between her and the rest of the people still looking at me. I wring my hands together, trying to satisfy my uneasiness. 

“Oh, Jimmy is down the hall. They moved his office, and it hasn't been updated downstairs yet.” Just another thing to go wrong this morning, naturally. She walks over to me, places her hand on my arm, and points me down the hall. “It's suite 222. Also Call him Jim, not James and it's ‘bou-shay’ not ‘bou-sher’. He’ll like you 10 times more if you can get his name right. You’re gunna do great.” She says sweetly, squeezing my arm. “Good luck!”

“Thank you” 

I walk down the hallway, pulling my phone from my pocket and double-checking the time. Still early. Thank god. Knocking on the door and twisting the handle ,I greet the front desk girl with a wave. A pretty brunette smiles back at me. Does everyone who works here have to be pretty? 

“Hi, I’m here to meet with Jim Boucher. Am I in the right place?” I say nervously. 

“You sure are, sweetheart.” Her southern drawl makes her that much more attractive to me. “What’s your name? I’ll get ya checked in.”

“Samuel Kiszka.” I lean against the counter, glancing down at her nameplate. She clicks a few buttons on her computer and then rises from her chair. 

“Right this way, Mr. Kiszka.” She extends her arm pointing us in the right direction. 

“Sam is fine. Daisy is a very pretty name, by the way. Like the flower?” I ask, smiling gently at her. A blush forms on her cheeks. She drops her head a bit, I can no longer see her dazzling blue eyes. She’s much shorter than I am, even in her heels. I shorten my stride so she doesn’t have to work so hard to keep up. 

“Thank you. I was named after my grandma, and she was named after the flower. Mamaw Daisy was the sweetest, just like her pie. Oh, she made the best apple pie I’ve ever had.” She looks up at me then, eyes bright and hands clasped together.

 “I’ve been trying to replicate her recipe and I think I have it close. Uh, just this way.” She instructs us to take a left; the windows on the right cover the wall nearly floor to ceiling. 

“Well, maybe I can try a slice sometime.” 

She stops then and looks up at me. “Uhm, this is it,” pointing to the door. 

“Thank you for the escort, Miss Daisy. I surely would have gotten lost without you.” She giggles and opens the door. The room is smaller than I anticipated. A few tables are set up with chairs. There are already a handful of people here.

“Hi, Mr. Boucher. This is Sam Kiszka. He’s here with the Portland Press Harold, from Maine.”

“Thank you, Miss Thompson, that will be all.” He waves his hand, dismissively. Her face drops a bit in disappointment. Before she closes the door, her eyes find mine with a small smile, which I match.

He doesn’t acknowledge me at all. His eyes never rise from his folder. Am I supposed to stand here or take a seat? No, I should definitely introduce myself.. Right? First impressions and all. 

I gently clear my throat. “Sir?” Once again, he doesn’t move. I wait. When he finally finishes what he’s reading he looks at me.

 “Sam Kiszka, Nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand, which he takes, apprehensively. He’s a man of few words from what I can tell, so I do my best to convey my character through a strong handshake. He nods at me and juts his head toward a table, motioning for me to take a seat. I’ll take that as a win. 

As soon as I take my seat, a familiar face enters. Her short, brown bob was perfectly tucked behind one ear. Paired with her petite stature, it gave her a bit of an elf-like appearance. She played with the proportions of her outfit to look taller, wearing khaki-colored high-waisted slacks for height along with brown heeled boots, and a tan button-up sweater tucked in. A delicate blue pattern across the top accentuates her chest and gold necklaces worn in tiers to finish it off. She looked beautiful. Why is she here?

I watch her as she introduces herself to Jim, who doesn’t really glance at her either, which makes me feel a bit better before she takes a seat on the opposite side of the room. At least it’s not just me. Daisy catches my vision, and I can tell she’s taken notice of me staring at.. Her. I offer her another small smile before I watch her close the door and disappear once more. 

“Alright,” Mr. Boucher announces, grabbing everyone’s attention. “As you all know, since you signed up for it, The Boston Globe is partnering with a few newspapers in New England. We want to run a feature on what makes each state in New England special. That’s where you all come in. There are 2 candidates from each state. That’s your partner for this project, so get used to them.” 

Oh god. This experience is about to go from amazing to horrific for her as soon as she finds out I'm here. 

“Presentations will be on Monday, so you have a few days to do what you gotta do. We’re working with the San Francisco Chronicle as well, which means that the 3 teams that best represent their state will be flying out there Tuesday. So, if you have plans next week, cancel them.”

Looks like Jake will have to find someone else to help cover the bar this week.

“Ah shit, let me take attendance.” He grumbles, searching for the correct paper on his desk. “Here we go, let’s start from the top with Maine - Willa Clarke?” my eyes immediately shoot over to her. Willa is a pretty name. It suits her. 

“Here, sir,” she raises her hand. She tilts her head to the side in anticipation. The red undertones of her hair catch the light when she moves. Okay, Sam? Calm down. 

“Great,” glancing down at his paper again. “Willa, your partner is.. Samuel Kiszka?”

Clearing my throat, “Uh Here.” I raise my hand. Her eyes finally meet mine, and immediately narrow. 

Annnnd, there it is. 

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A few hours and a lot of paperwork later and I’m sitting opposite Willa at a table in the cafe downstairs. She’s been glaring at me over the top of her latte for 10 minutes without saying a single word to me. Slowly sipping. Intently glaring. Not speaking.

I wait.

And then give in. 

“Are you stalking me or something?” narrowing my eyes back at her.

“Excuse me?” Her incredulous look is not surprising. 

“I mean, I go to the farmers market and you’re there. Poking me. I go to my brother’s bar and you’re there. Then I show up here and.. Oh yeah.. You’re here. Logical explanation would lead me to believe that you’re stalking me.” Curiosity becomes me as I wait for her answer. 

“I feel like you’re failing to take into consideration a key piece of information here, Salmonella,” She says, piquing my interest. I debate if I should be offended by her use of a nickname or not and settle on the latter. Why let her get under my skin when I can get under hers?

“Aw yeah? What’s that, darling?” 

“Okay.. ew.” disgust paints her face as she waves her hand out in front of her. “You speak as if you’re interesting enough to stalk.”

“Ah, such a blow to my ego,” Rolling my eyes dramatically. “Someone who spends her time jabbing strangers and yelling at them when they try to help her doesn’t think I’m interesting. Whatever will I do?” She scoffs loudly and crosses her arms, turning to face her body to the side toward the windows. “I should just roll over and cease to exist right now.”

“Help me? How have you tried to help me?” She asks in disbelief. Of course, she wouldn’t view my actions on Saturday as helpful. Or nice or kind in any capacity. I swear she's incapable of thinking I’m nice.

“When I told you not to bother with Chad Von Doucher-son, which you yelled at me for. Or when I offered you a drink on the house when he ditched you. A peace offering, again which you yelled at me for.”

She huffs. “What about you then?” Raising her eyebrows at me. “ Since we’re in all the same places or whatever. Are you stalking me?”

“Oh, I’m simply incapable of giving you that pleasure.”

A wicked laugh escapes her. “I’m sure that’s not the first time you’ve said that to a woman. How about you stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours?”

“Yes because a project in which we have to work together definitely calls for staying away from one another. Can you not pretend to tolerate me?”

“Must you ask so much of me?” She frowns intently, grabbing her purse and standing to push her chair underneath the table. 

“When our careers ride on it, yes. Now play nice. No more school-yard insults.” 

“Okay. Truce.. For now.. Samsquatch.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The rest of the day was filled with more paperwork, tours, and individual assignments, according to each home-based newspaper company. At the end of the day, knowing I have some time to kill before I have to catch my train, I stop by the front desk.

Daisy is sat with her head down looking over scheduling for the following week. I tap the counter with the pads of my fingers, the soft sounds calling for her attention. She greets me with that same wide smile. Yeah, she’s cute. 

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Daisy. And thank you for your help this morning,” I hold my hand out to her, and she places her dainty one gently in my palm. 

“It was lovely to meet you too, Sam.” She giggles and a blush forms. 

“I’ll see you next week for the presentation.” I bend down to place a kiss on her knuckles, causing her cheeks to redden even further. As I straighten I can hear ‘oh god’ behind me. I turn to see Willa standing there, rolling her eyes. 

“Don’t waste your time, he’s insufferable.” She says to Daisy and storms off. I cannot believe she would do that. I know she isn’t exactly my biggest fan, but to try and cock-block me because she dislikes me is insane. I really haven’t done anything to her. How can someone you barely know have that strong of a vendetta against you? 

I look back at Daisy, “Would you excuse me one moment.” I let out an awkward laugh. Before fully walking away, I stop, “Next week, pretty girl,” and give her a wink. When I leave she has a smile on her face. Successfully recovered.

I walk quickly through the hall down toward the elevator to catch up with Willa. Just as the doors start to close, I catch it and force it back open, boarding the elevator with her. Turning to her with my eyebrows raised and my arms crossed, I clear my throat. 

“Can I help you?” Her eyes are locked in her phone. 

“Just because you have shit luck with dates, doesn’t mean you have any right to try and ruin my chances at one.”

“Oh, please. You cannot subject her to that.”

“Subject her to what?” 

“Sam, it’s actually less painful watching teenagers flirt. I’m begging you, if I’m going to have to witness your flirting through this whole experience, the least you could do is practice in the mirror a bit.” She sneers at me. 

“Ya know,” I take a step closer to her until my chest is pressed against her shoulder, “I could always practice on you.” The slight intake of her breath almost goes unnoticed, almost.

“Oh god,” She lunges toward the button panel, repeatedly pressing the open door button. “Get me the hell out of hereeeee.”

Checkmate.

&lt;- Chapter Two ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Chapter Four ->

Masterpost | Taglist

Taglist 💜 :

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @mindastreamofcolours @imleavingyoufornewyork @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower @threadofstars @mackalah @klarxtr @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @takenbythemadness @i-love-gvf @ladywhimsymoon @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf @violet-hayes @anythingforjtk

[wysteria-clad]

Hi! I love your writing and I saw you were taking requests so I was wondering if you could do a Steven Grant blurb + "isn't this the book you wanted?"

Thank you and I hope you're having a nice day! ~🦢

Hi there! Thank you! Have a lovely day/night <3

Steven Grant + 'Isn't this the book your wanted?' from this cute prompt list

-------

The cold air bites your skin as you stepped outside of your house, even though you were wearing layers of warm clothes, and a thick soft sweater.

It has been snowing for the past few days. Being cooped up inside has started to become pretty boring.

You wanted to go out, and do anything. At least to walk around the block. To get your legs moving and feast your eyes on the silvery white snow cloaking the city. It is beautiful.

Steven voiced to go and check out the local thrift store, and you wanted to devour a nice, warm cup of hot chocolate and other wamn delights from your favorite cafe. It was decided then.

You smile to yourself. You'd appreciate it more if you it wasn't this cold, but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

Steven stepped next to you. "Here you go, love." He slips your beanie on your head, tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. He pulls it down so it cover your eyes from the cold. He then places a kiss on your forehead.

You smile and thank him by kissing his lips. Despite the weather, his lips are warm. You slip your gloved hand into his, leading to your first destination.

.

.

The walk to the thrift store wasn't long.

It was an old fashioned store. Maybe that's the charm of it. It was one of your favourite thrift stores. A small bell rings as Steven opens the door.

The owner, Mrs. Thatcher looks up at you and Steven—her customers for the morning, and greets you. It was short and polite.

Few minutes pass as you walk around, searching for anything that catches your eye.

"Love?" he calls you.

And you turn around as if it's your name. It's so simple, and so Steven, yet it made you feel warm everytime he called you. You are his love.

"Isn't this the book you wanted?" he lifted up a book to show you.

You grinned widely. You had been looking for this particular book, a rare edition for months. And he found it finally in a thrift store.

He remembered.

"You found it!." You walk to close the distance between you and him. "I knew you were my lucky charm."

That brings out a soft smile on his face. He doubts it. In fact he would argue it's the other way, but he doesn't lets his thought dull down the light in your eyes.

.

.

The next stop was even more cozy. You ordered tea for him, just the way he loved and much awaited warm, hot chocolate for yourself.

The cafe wasn't crowded, but you noticed few couples and a group friends.

You were glad to be seated on the table near the window. Sooner, the noises and people around you became a blur, and become background noise when you and Steven talked, just about anything that came to your minds.

He rambled enthusiastically about his latest favourite thing. You nodded along, content, with the taste of your warm drink down your throat. It was as if you were in a own bubble of world, just you and him.

It was a lovely day, indeed. Simple, but filled with little joys you adored. And love packed in between.

Maybe love doesn't have to be grand all the time. It could be slow, boring and mundane. It can be just remembering how your lover drinks tea, or remembering what book your lover wanted.

------

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[rabbitenn]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request hcs for nagi × reader in winter!! pls and thank you🫶

WINTER WONDERLAND.

Even in the colder months, he’s your ever shining star.

ft. Rokuya Nagi x gn! reader.

cw/genre: cute and sweet fluff.

thank you dear nonnie for requesting ! I’m sorry this took so long, I’m hoping you still like it <3

— Needless to say at this point, Nagi is well accustomed to cold weather. Winters are long and frigid in his home country, after all.

— So, in the last months of the year, your boyfriend is really in his element.

— Nagi is someone who’s always ready to go out and visit fun places. Even if the season where the nights become longer and the sun rays are not enough to warm you up would prompt you to stay cooped up under a blanket at home, you can’t just say no to him.

— And so, the colder days illuminate in a thousand memories by your lover’s side, forever wanting to keep them in the softest part of your heart.

— Nagi loves doing any wintry activity with you! From going to cafes and having hot chocolate or coffee, to visiting markets, christmas lights and decorations making the atmosphere vivid and warm despite the cold, to simply walking around the city’s streets watching how the snowflakes dance in the neon lit wind before coating the ground.

— And of course, Nagi eyes the shop windows displaying the new Cocona Magical Winter Outfit! figurine.

— You’ll have to get him one soon, you think, as you watch with a soft expression his northern sky eyes sparkle as he gets impossibly closer to the glass, the lights from the shop reflected in his stare, your favorite aurora.

— And, of course, with the new figurine, comes a new movie from his favorite magical girl anime. Nagi wants nothing more than to have you in his arms as you two enjoy the film.

— Soft blankets, the peaceful atmosphere of his room at the dorms (his friends knew you were visiting, so they gave you some privacy) and matching mugs of sweet hot chocolate (his, of course, Cocona themed).

— Honestly, in this moment, neither of you could ask for anything else.

— Speaking of which, as much as Nagi is always up for going out, if you’re more of a homebody when winter comes around, he’s more than okay with indoor activities too.

— Firstly, he’ll show you all of his anime figurines and merch. Even if the heater wasn’t on, the passion with which he speaks and his wide smile would be enough to keep you warm.

— A pastime he really enjoys when you decide to stay in is baking cookies.

— Due to his upbringing, Nagi didn’t really have the chance to learn how to cook. So, if you’re the one to teach him how to make cookies, he’ll be over the moon!

— And even if you don’t know how to make them, that’s fine too, you learn together.

— Their shape might not be perfect, but the work you put into them makes them taste delicious.

— Not to mention, you made them with your favorite person in the entire world <3

— Another way Nagi would love to spend time with you in winter (back to the outdoors this time) is by having snowball fights.

— Again, because of his royal roots and lack of friends during his childhood and early teen years, it’s likely he didn’t get to experience that kind of joy.

— Seeing him getting so into it, yelling “flying Cocona snowball!” and running towards you as his laughter fills the clouded sky is too precious.

— Nagi’s very romantic and charming (sometimes bordering on cheesy /affectionate), so don’t be surprised when on starry nights, he whispers to you about how the moon and stars reflected over snowy plains can’t hold a candle to you.

— It’s cute, how serious he is when he tells you that, you think, with a chuckle.

— He deserves a kiss (or a few), no?

— With snow drifting from the night above like glittering stardust, and the moon as only witness, it would certainly make for a picture perfect moment ;)