#what's going on. Blizzard. Blizzard are you there. Listen to me

[sonicfrontiers]

i'm blizzard's favorite child

[inkskinned]

it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

[genderless-naper]

love that makes you sick

trafalgar law x gf!reader, established relationship

lowercase intended !

fluff, sfw, word count: 2.1k

an argument leaves law looking for you out in a blizzard where he might catch a cold

the white cast the snow left on the new found island made it one of the prettiest islands you’ve seen. the submarine was docked at the shore. everyone was busying themselves with tasks such as restocking inventory, buying food, cleaning up, and so on. everyone had to finish chores before they can explore the town and island, as per captains usual orders.

you were busy with your usual task of taking count of medical supplies. you were organizing the pill drawer when law walks into the room. you greeted him with a smile which he looked past on. you noticed the tattooed figured man was looking more tense than usual. this raised a concern for you, “is everything okay baby? you look more than usually stressed.”

he looks at you and holds his hand out, “i need the inventory sheet. you did the counts wrong last time.” this was the first he’s told you of this problem, “i did the counts wrong? no im sure didn’t. if they were wrong then why didn’t you say anything about it last time..?”

law takes the sheet, and response as he skims through what you’ve written down, “i didn’t notice i was out of gauze until shaichi decided it was a good idea to see how fast he can hit a knife between his fingers” law rubs his temples as he remembers the predicament.

you shook your head, “i’m certain i did them right! its not my fault the crew members decide to test their luck with playing with knives” you responded with a bit of attitude as you rolled you eyes. law tried his best to stay neutral. he picked up the job he decided you were unable to do. you wouldn’t sit around and be blatantly told you didnt know how to do something you’ve always been tasked with doing. you grab the sheet back and continue from where you left off.

you can feel his gaze piercing you as you try your best to hold your composure.

“y/n-ya i can do them myself. just give them to me.” he says in a more stern tone. you shook your head, “i refused to believe i messed up!”

“im not going to go back and forth with y-“

you interrupt law by shushing him. he looked at you in disbelief. he wasn’t expecting you to literally shush him like he was a child. in no world would law believe that he, as a captain, would be shushed at by his subordinate.

to ease the tension in the air you try talking about the new island. you asked questions to which you received no response. after your fourth question you were fed up with his lack of responses and turned back towards him.

this time he had a look of anger he tried (and failed) to hide. he passively made a remark, “maybe if you werent so hardheaded and actually listened sometimes i wouldnt have so many issues in the medical room.”

you were taken aback from his sudden statement, but refused to let him have the upper hand in the conversation, “maybe if you weren’t so prideful and actually communicated what you needed instead of expecting me to read your mind you wouldn’t be fussing so hard right now!”

law raised a brow. it wasnt unlike you to fire back remarks. he’d seen it with the crew members when you’d all have disagreements, but he’d never expected them to be aimed at him. with his irritation growing by the second he took back the sheet, “go help someone else. i need to be the one who does the jobs in the medical room so i can know theyre done correctly.”

you scoff, “done correctly?? fine then! im leaving and exploring at the island. have fun being cooped up by yourself!” you pushed past your boyfriend, and exited the room without looking back at him.

you put on your winter gear knowing it would be a little chilly out, and headed out to explore the unknown. you walked through the town and into the meadow. snow capped mountains and sheets of paper white snow with blades of grass peaking through were visible to the eye. you noticed snowflakes scatter the sky and they fell. soon after though there seemed to be an influx of snowflakes falling. the wind’s gusts were picking up as well. you admired the scenery unaware of a possible snow storm heading your way.

on the submarine law was busying himself with your tasks. he didn’t know what came over him when he spoke with you. maybe it was the built up stress, maybe it was having to police the crew mates from fighting, or maybe he was just cranky because he missed being with you. nonetheless he still pushed you away. he figured it was at least good for you to get a break. he made mental note to apologize to you once you were back.

he continued through the tasks while making minimal progress. with every mistake he made he remembered how he’d seen you do them routinely since you joined his crew. truth be told you probably did it better than him, but thats something he would never admit out loud. he decided to take a break and go out to see if the crew had finished their tasks.

some were still working on their chores, and some were no where to be seen. law knew it had been a while since you left so he asked the crew if you had come back yet. ikkaku shook her head and penguin replied, “y/n went left a few hours ago. wouldn’t speak to us. she seemed kinda mad i guess?”

at that moment shachi runs into the room, “did you guys seen the snow outside?! its like a blizzard! its so cool!”

law was taken aback, “a blizzard?? are you sure y/n is still out there? you didn’t see her come back at all?” worry slowly creeped up the captains chest. the thought of you being out in the snow storm alone tortured him. he didn’t want to think about the possibility of you getting sick or hurt.

shachi shook his head, “i couldn’t see anyone out there captain” the concern was too much for the tattooed man to handle anymore. he made sure alert the crew to be on watch for your arrival. he headed out into the snow fall with urgency. he only made one mistake: he left without any proper clothing or gear to protect him against the harsh weather. the only thought on his mind was to find you and make sure you were safe. being cold was the least of his worries.

he hastily traveled through town in search of you. he called out your name and looked everywhere. he was left standing in front a cafe with lights on and smoke escaping its chimney. a man on the inside saw law standing in the snow fall. he opened the door and called out for him, “what are you doing out in this storm?! get in here before it carries you away!”

law ignored the man and continued to look around in search of you. the man yelled out urging him to once again take cover inside the building. the tattooed man looks at the building once more just to find a glimpse of you through the window sitting at a table.

relief flooded him like a wave. he just couldn’t contain himself. he decided to shambles his way into the cafe. you jump at his sudden appearance, “oh baby you scared me! what are you doing out in the snow? uh.. why aren’t you wearing a jacket..?”

your boyfriend looked as cold as a brick of ice. he hadn’t notice the dangerous cold outside until he was hit with heat from the cafe that hugged him like a heated blanket. you urged him to sit down, and put your jacket over his shoulders. you put your gloves on him and placed your hot cocoa in front of him, “law you look like a mess..”

you ruffled snow off his hat and examined his face which was a shade of pink due to the harsh cold. especially the tips of his ears and nose. he held your hands tight in fear that you’d slip away from him again. he spoke so quiet that barely you could hear, “i’m really sorry y/n. i’m just glad you’re okay. i don’t know what i would have done with myself if you got hurt out there. i shouldn’t have made you leave like that…”

you squeezed his hands with a sigh, “i’m okay darling. you’re the one thats not okay. you’re bound catch a cold. it was so reckless of you to leave the submarine like it was 90 degrees. look, your nose is already running!”

you grabbed a napkin and quickly wiped your poor boyfriends nose. you couldn’t help but feel bad for his current state.

he pulled you onto his lap and hugged you tight. your body felt like a heater against his ice cold state. he buried his face into your neck for the added warmth. he stayed like this until the snow storm blew down.

you both made your way back to the polar tang. once inside law immediately pulls you towards your shared bedroom. the whole way back to the submarine he was a coughing sneezing mess. it wasn’t surprising to see he got a cold.

you urged your sick boyfriend into bed but he refused to without you. you huffed, “look who’s the hardheaded one that doesn’t listen now” you huffed as you referenced the original conversation that started this whole mess.

your boyfriend shook his head and held your hand, “i want you to be in bed with me at least..” he stared at the ground to avoid eye contact. his pink tipped ears poking through his black ruffled hair. it was unlike him to be so straightforward when talking to you about what he wanted. maybe the recent events gave him a change of heart.

nonetheless you guided him into bed and pulled the blanket up to cover him, “let me bring you some tea, okay baby? ill be right back” you tell him and you stroke his hair. the tattooed man looks away from embarrassment and tries to put on his cool act again, “i’m fine y/n. go help the others with chores”

you giggled at his attempt to recover his stoic facade, “my chore now is to take care of my idiot boyfriend who doesn’t think when stepping out into snow storms”

you lean down and press a soft kiss onto his lips. its the kind of kiss that leaves law yearning for more. it was the kind of kiss that could comfort the sickest person. your soft lips pressing against his repeats in his mind as you leave to bring him tea and medicine. you spend the rest of the night taking care of him and then being dragged back into bed to cuddle with him. you lost track of how many tissues you’d have to use for your sick boyfriend, but theres nothing you’d rather do than be the one to take care of him especially when he’s the one to take care for you.

not once does he loosen his arms which are wrapped around you. he refuses to let you slip away from him again. it was a mistake he would never do twice. he just avoided eye contact. you smiled at how vulnerable your boyfriend was able to be with you today. how his walls were as low as you’ve ever seen them be. you couldn’t help but feel so lucky to be loved by this man knowing no other person will experience law the way you get to experience him at that moment.

“hey baby..?” you spoke softly to him. he hums as he looks at you with a slightly tired expression. you cup his cheeks and lean in for another kiss; this time more passionate and deeper than before. law has a slight grip on your hips as he eases into your kiss. he never wants it to end. he pulls you closer, and as you try to separate from the kiss he just continues on by kissing down your jaw and to your neck. you giggle at his loving demeanor and stroke his hair. he nuzzles his head into your neck, and secures you to him to make sure you wont be able to slip away in the night. your warmth like sweet nectar to him.

[luludeluluramblings]

Hi so I was having some brainrot regarding your small-town-neglected-meta reader and I wanted to share them with you!

One thing I've been thinking about alot is the way readers powers work and what kinds of weather they're likely to create, etc. One thing I specifically thought about is that readers powers definitely have to come from her mom's side. Bruce and no else in Bruce's biological line have powers so readers mom has to have the meta gene. I was thinking that maybe readers mom also controlled the weather a bit, maybe not as strong as reader can but still had some powers.

Like creating little drizzles, maybe some dustdevils, and little snow storms. Because her powers were so weak she never really used them for much, maybe to help out her own parents on the farm but that's about it(using her rain powers to easily water the crops)

In that same line of thinking I also wondered if readers little brother also has superpowers. Maybe the way his powers work or appear are bit different than readers because of they have different dads(I imagine Bruce has really strong genetics. If Damian is any proof of that lol)

One little crank in this little headcanon though is that Nana and Gramps would also have to have superpowers. But then I reread the first chapter and thought about One of the phrases you used to describe how reader got in Bruce's hands.

"but blood is thicker than water in the eyes of the court."

That specifically makes me think that Nana and Gramps are actually readers little brother biological grandparents and not theirs.(what happened to their bio grandparents 🤔)

But anyway, one last thing I wanted mention is how badly I want to see reader using their powers more freely when they're back in small town. Like they aren't afraid to use their powers to make it super windy and have fun with their little brother up on the sky. Or causing a blizzard just so they can have a snowball fight and make snow-men with their little brother. Or even accidently cause a power outage because someone pissed them off! No more suppressed emotions just freedom. (Also reader crying in the middle of the rain they made in front of their parents graves(they wanted to be buried in their hometown) would be so tragically fantasic.)

Anyway I know this is a lot to read and I'm sorry if I seem a bit scrambled but I wanted to send this to you just cause I had so many ideas floating up in my brain I couldn't stop thinking about it all. Thank you for listening to me ramble, I hope your doing amazing🩷

Your call this bain-rot, Imma call it fertilizer. This is long as mess, but I think I addressed everything. Lots of Smalltown!Reader lore and I made a Family Tree to help explain if needed.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Smalltown!Reader's Family Tree:

Complicated little bugger, ain't it? I didn't add Stephanie or Barbara because Bruce technically never adopted them or fostered them. This isn't an official thing, I made this and it was composed of little bits of information I found online. So some of this stuff might not be lore accurate.

Also, while I was researching I found out that Bruce's middle name was apparently Patrick, after his grandfather at one point.

Now, time for the pseudo science.

I consider the meta gene to be a genetic trait carried down by a parent. That would be Momma/Adeline, in this case. She carries the gene. Now, the meta gene does not always activate even if one has it. So, no, Momma was not making mini storms for us. She was, however, very encouraging of Reader using their abilities. It takes an event, usually a traumatic one, to activate the gene. (Little Brother could be getting power's in the next chapter, though.)

As for Nana and Grand Daddy we have this:

They don't have the gene, so they don't have abilities. (Which doesn't me their harmless.) They are Reader's Step-Grandparents, but they've grown to love them all the same. Now, in court, it is preferred for a child to go to the nearest blood relative after their parents die. Or, at least, that's what I roughly know from what the court in my state is like. I'm not from Louisiana or New Jersey, where Gotham's located, so maybe it's different. But, this is fiction. This is why Nana and Grand Daddy didn't get custody of Reader, though. Plus Bruce is rich with a bunch of adopted kids, on paper he looks like the best option.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

I really love the thought of Reader using their abilities for silly little things while back in Smalltown, at least before things absolutely go to hell in a hand basket. So I'll probably include a bit. (They used to do things like that before moving to Gotham, definitely.) Something I want to mention is that Reader likes to make it rain when their happy. It's their favorite weather, they love it. So a grave scene might be a bit different. (I have to include that now. Thank you for that idea! Frick, Part Eight about to be long af.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

If your curious about Reader's other grandparents, they just died from old age and health problems. I like to think that Reader had a close relationship with them. Calling them MawMaw and Gab for their nicknames and having spent a lot of time with Reader and their Little Brother before they died. (I'm sorely tempted to just commit to rewriting this with the OC I based Reader off of so I can include all this backstory to highlight how different their life in Gotham is compared to what it used to be, but I best finish what I started first.)

(Side Note: It's very common in the American south for people to give their grandparents nicknames. I have some for my southern grandparents, while I call my northern grandparents just plain Grandma and Grandpa. The nickname can vary and is usually what ever the first grandchild comes up with.)

Thank you for sending me this ask! Stuff like this actually inspires me so this was wonderful. Hopefully this helps. (Now to get back to work on my writing, I've been draggin' my feet again.)

[just-some-little-lads]

My Love, Like Winter, is Eternal

Summary: You find you can't sleep, and your partner resting right next to you listens to your late-night thoughts.

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags: SFW, Fluff, Second Person POV, gn! reader.

It’s easy to forget what lies beneath a frost. When the world is coated in so much snow, one might lose memory of the blooms in spring. Most people think of winter as this harsh and cruel season. It often comes hand-in-hand with negative metaphors like death or apathy or the end of any good thing. There was a time when you thought much the same. Now…you can’t help but almost feel bad for winter- for snow. There’s so much warmth there that goes unnoticed.

Poetic thoughts like these came easy to you in the early hours of the morning. Especially during nights where you couldn’t sleep. Maybe that’s why you found yourself finding feeling sad for an environmental passage of time of all things. Well…you had to give yourself some slack. There was a reason why snow had such a loving space in your heart; why you found yourself telling your coworkers who dared complain about the cold all the wonderful things you could do in the snow. Even after all the odd glances you got most times. A noble task, you would tell yourself. One might call you a…polar protector? A Snow Spokesperson! A Blizzard Bodyguard! A—

A large hand covered your face, cutting you free from your thoughts. After successfully catching your attention, the hand moved back to the body it belonged to. “You’re thinking too loudly…” Voice low, tone slightly slurred with half-consciousness, Zayne brought a thumb and forefinger up to rub at bleary eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

You felt a bit guilty for waking him up, knowing he’d be heading back to the hospital in a few hours. “You can read my thoughts?”

A huff of a single chuckle escaped him as he turned on his side towards you. As he spoke, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you toward him. “I think I have a few years to go before I can read your thoughts, but I can read your body language. Tossing and turning, fidgeting hands, rapid breaths. Symptoms of someone far too awake. What’s keeping you up?” A note of concern seeped into his tone. He kept you close while fixing and straightening some wild strands of your bed-hair. Based off his smile, you could tell you looked a bit more on the disheveled side. Something he was all too happy to fix. Meanwhile, he still looked as refined as ever. Gorgeous, like a statue chiseled from ice plucked from heavenly mountain-tops. Or perhaps that was just the rose-colored glasses talking. You found yourself still falling head-over-heels for him, and crushing like you hadn’t been together for a while. “Hey…” Zayne’s smile faded, his hand moving from your hip to your cheek. Apparently, he’d taken you staring at him in silence as some sort of hesitation. “Talk to me. Is something wrong?”

Well, now you felt a bit sheepish. Zayne was probably thinking you were plagued by some kind of stress. “Just thinking…about snow.”

“Snow?” he asked, incredulous that something so simple was keeping you awake, almost looking more worried. “Don’t tell me you’re making winter plans already?”

“Not really…”

The mattress shifted as he propped his head up on his elbow and sighed. His forefinger began to trace the outline of your face. “Penny for your thoughts? I won’t be able to sleep if you continue being so cryptic.”

You groaned a bit, not able to handle the thought of him getting no rest just because of your silly mind. “I’m just thinking about how sad it is that the cold gets such a bad rap.” As you explained that, you noticed how his face contorted into a mixed expression of confusion and amusement. You gave him time to speak, ready to hear him laugh or tell you to put you and your crazy mind to bed. Nothing was said by him, seemingly waiting to hear your intense thoughts at three in the morning. “It’s always talked about like some heartless, lifeless thing, but it’s not! Ice cream is cold and it’s one of my favorite things! In winter, you can wear cute coats and scarves, warm up with hot chocolate, and snuggle up by the fire. Plus, snow is so pretty. When it falls…it’s so comforting. I just… I wish people saw all the good in it that I do.” You glanced up at him, still waiting for him to roll his eyes.

Instead, he only looked at you softly- lovingly. With a little tug, he pulled you closer, lying back down while tucking your head under his chin. “I see. So, you think winter is sad that so many people dislike it?” He adjusted the blanket around you both, making sure your heads were comfortably on the pillows.

For some reason, you felt like crying. Maybe it was just because you were sleep deprived. Or perhaps it was because you tended to forget how safe of a space Zayne was. He’d joke with you, follow along with the bits you came up with, even listen to whatever you had to say running on four hours of sleep like he’d also gotten a degree in therapy. “I bet it gets lonelier than the other seasons…”

“Hm.” He closed his eyes, and for a moment you thought he’d fallen back asleep. When he spoke again, his voice lowered, his face nuzzling your head ever so slightly. “I think…that the snow is content enough being loved by you.” Zayne’s body was warm. Perfectly so. His hand ran up and down your back in slow hypnotizing rubs.

“I’m just one person in a world with millions of people… It deserves more than just me.” You were starting to feel drowsy now, eyelids going heavy at a rapid pace. A little moan rumbled in your throat as you shifted about to get comfortable, turning on your other side so Zayne was curled against your back. His presence was like a soothing blanket, your body enveloped and protected from things that might do you harm. Ever your valiant healer even outside of battle.

A kiss pressed into the back of your shoulder as you slotted yourself against him, fitting like a perfect puzzle piece. “I don’t think it’s greedy,” he whispered softly. “It sees the way you rush outside to greet it when it’s snowing, even if you’re not wearing something warm. It’s happy to take on the role of being cold so your hot chocolate tastes that much better, feeling the heat run down your throat…into your stomach…sinking down into your toes.” The way he was speaking was slow and purposefully melodic, like the narration of those resting meditation videos. He was trying to put you to sleep. Zayne took a deep breath, like he was minutes away from falling asleep himself, forcing himself to stay awake until he knew you were at peace. “It’s glad to make the world quieter so you can find yourself drifting off much easier.” He kissed the back of your head, resting his face against your body with a large exhale.

For a moment, you listened to the soft sounds of his breathing, staring at the subtle rays of moonlight seeping through past the curtains. All the strange anxiety that had kept you up melted away. You had to admit to yourself that you weren’t quite worried about the winter at all. But you weren’t sure where the doubt came from. Here he was, making you feel loved like you never had before. “You think so?”

“I know so. The winter will…always be there for you. Forever.” A small waver of emotion filled his voice.

“And my love, like winter, will be eternal for you…”

With one last squeeze, he laughs. “Oh? And here I was thinking we were talking about snow, but I’m flattered.” Words laced with mirth, he tried to pass off that he wasn’t aware of the true meaning behind your worries the whole time. You jabbed him a bit in the ribs with your elbow. In return, he used his Evol to press an icy cold hand against your back.

In the end, you both ended up not getting much sleep at all anyway, but neither of you cared in the slightest.

[cultofdixon]

Huddling for warmth

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • A blizzard occurred during the harsh winter after the farm and before the prison. You and Daryl got trapped in it and things didn’t go perfectly…• ANGST/SFW/NSFW - Nudity • TW: Hyperthermia / Minor Injury / Anxiety / Scars / Illness

Requested by: Anon

When the fire happened, everything changed. It came naturally that Rick became the leader of this group but everything was icy.

Now they were starting all over in finding a place to call home…or at least a temporary shelter for the upcoming winter

“Here” Y/N shrugged off her jacket giving it to Carl for an extra layer of warmth as the weather was getting colder for winter.

“She’s going to freeze to death if she keeps giving her coats to Carl and Lori” Glenn makes the comment to Maggie after she finishes getting a fire going in a house they were holding up in for the night. Little did he know the archer was listening to such.

About an hour passed and Rick returns with a deer that Daryl obviously got. But they also went through a few homes and Daryl approached Y/N who was leaning on Carol near the fire, dropping a jacket over her shoulders and didn’t stay for her to get a word in.

But he saw the smile on her face and that caused an old familiar feeling to burn in his chest.

“The winter will get worse and we should scavenge a few places before holding up for a good month” Hershel tells Rick while looking out at the snow that started to fall.

“I’ll get Glenn, Maggie, and Carol to come check a few houses with me. You and Lori can keep an eye on the rest” Rick stated adjusting his jacket and giving Daryl a look. “Think you can hunt some more game before the weather gets thicker?”

“I’ll try but the second the tracks ain’t clear, I’m coming—-“

“You ain’t going alone. Take Y/N. She has huntin’ experience. She’s hunted with you before” True. Before Rick returned from presumed dead, Daryl went hunting with his brother and the previous hunter before the Dixons came…also known as Y/N. But she didn’t join him on the trip before he heard his brother was left on a roof.

Y/N was ahead of Daryl following tracks they’ve caught on at the edge of the tree line by the neighborhood they’re held up in. He half expected her to be a chatterbox like how she was before the barn fire. But something always had to be off.

Before he could say anything to her, she readied her hunting bow and landed the shot on the unlucky rabbit.

Opportunity “Yea ever heard of a lucky rabbit’s foot?”

“Yeah, but doesn’t it usually have like…an amethyst with it?”

“Thought it was an amulet” Daryl questioned only to get a short lived laugh out of Y/N causing a hint of a smirk on his face.

She rises to her feet with the rabbit in hand brushing the hair out of her face to look at the archer. “You want the foot?”

“Sayin’ I need some good luck?”

“Dunno. You’re the one that said it” Y/N kept a smile on her face that soon faded when the cold breeze was a bit more intense than she expected. “Hershel said winters will be bad. Just. Didn’t expect that”

What was just a breeze seemed to pick up the more they trekked along in the forest…

“Have the winters always gone from mild to extreme?”

“You aren’t originally from Georgia?” Daryl brushed his hair back when the wind blew harder than before.

“That a deal breaker?” Y/N jokes only to suddenly trip and fall into the snow that’s collected since the morning. “Jeez. Maybe I need that lucky rabbit’s foot”

The crimson in the white became clear to Daryl as he knelt down to make sure she didn’t hurt herself to a certain degree. Thankfully just a scratch from the tree root they couldn’t see in the snow, which started to concern Daryl with how the weather started to pick up the more they were out there.

“We should head back. Or try to find our way back”

“Before it gets worse?” She added while cleaning up the blood with her bandana as it’s going to have to do until they can get a better look at it. “It’s already there”

“Our foot prints got swept” Daryl frowns knowing that would likely happen. He rose to his feet helping Y/N up as he tried to take a moment to listen to the surrounding but even the wind was picking up as much as the snow fall.

It got to blizzard level pretty quick.

“This is getting bad” Y/N had to shout for Daryl to register anything, but as they continued on through the blind scenery…the sound of something moving through the snow caught both their attention until the archer turned around.

No Y/N.

Daryl’s panic started to set in because on top of not seeing his surroundings. He had zero clue on where Y/N could’ve fallen or been dragged to.

The hiss of the wind continued to throw the archer off when he followed the trail before it disappeared right away. He quickly realized when he slipped falling on his ass that she had fallen…but fallen into the river they passed before the blizzard became more prominent.

“We have to be careful, Y/N” Daryl states gesturing to the river they were currently passing when the snow started to pick up in inches.

Y/N laughs at the man. “Okay captain obvious. We aren’t going to be able to see it later if this blizzard picks up”

“Hopefully not. We’ll be fine”

But we aren’t fucking fine! Daryl thought as he carefully made his descend toward the river and while the rushing water picked up in his ears…he couldn’t hear anyone.

“Y/N!” He screams and was about to step in the water when something grabbed at his ankle.

The new instinct was to take his knife out and plunge it into the water skull, but when he knelt down it came clear.

“Holy fuck. Thought I’d have to go swimming”

“I-I-It’s a b-b-bit c-cold” Y/N coughed out a bit letting go of his person to lay in the snow like before. The moment she felt into the water, she was wide awake and knew she had to get out. But the second her soaked body met the cold harsh weather, it brought her to this semi frozen weak state. Crazy how quick the body reacts.

“Can yea move?” Daryl shouts only to ensure that she can hear him but with no response only shaking breathing he could barely hear, he brought his arms under her armpits starting to drag her to the main path out of the ditch by the riverbank. “Think warm thoughts” he kept repeating even if every fiber of her being wanted to curl up and scream.

Y/N wanted to scream when the cold only got worse for her as Daryl brought one of her arms around his shoulders.

“We need to hide out somewhere”

“F-Fast” She gripped onto him trying not to succumb to the cold making her falter in her steps.

Daryl tried his best not to stumble because of how she was. His anxiety eventually got the best of him and he didn’t care if she’d protest getting him wet given her soaked person when he picked her up bridal style to get a faster pace going.

The two ended up in a small house nowhere near the neighborhood they were originally in. There was no time to question how they even got far from where the rest of the group is. Daryl had to barricade the doors to the room they were in and try to get a fire going to help warm up Y/N as she was placed on the couch in the living room shivering.

“R-Remind me, n-n-never t-t….s-shit” Y/N groans pulling at the soaked clothes on her person wanting to take them off as she hated the uncomfortable sticky feeling. But there was more going on and it started to concern her.

And the man that was currently trying to start a fire in the fireplace knowing he might have to move Y/N closer to the fire. The second it started, Daryl rose to his feet rounding the couch and pushing it closer enough for her to feel it. But even then it didn’t work in its entirety.

“Gotta strip yea”

“W-Woah. B-Bu…Buy m-m-me dinner f-first” Y/N scoffs in a playful manner listening to the man groan before he went further into the house scavenging for anything and found a blanket he had to shake out before even thinking of wrapping Y/N in it.

Daryl set the blanket on the arm rest. “Strip. I won’t—-“

“N-Need h-he—help” She coughed slightly after and Daryl instinctively pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. She was starting to get warm and not in a good way.

“Fine but I need your—-“

“F-Fuck Daryl! I-I-It’s fine!” Y/N snapped gripping the back of the couch to get her to sit up as Daryl brought himself beside her helping her get out of the wet clothes.

Her clothes laid in a pile beside the couch as Daryl was about to straighten them out close to the fire to try and dry, Y/N pulled the blanket over her shoulders more but manage to trap Daryl by bringing herself into his lap. She couldn’t speak given once the clothes were off she was even colder. The blanket wasn’t going to instantly help and the archer had been inside for some time that the snow melted off of his person so that she could do what she was currently doing.

The archer froze when she climbed into his lap curling up against him taking in his warmth and tugging the blanket to cover every exposed bit on her person. He didn’t look at her, for a sense of privacy. Not that she cared. There was something else but now wasn’t the time. Daryl carefully wrapped his arms around her bringing her close and eventually shifting his body to lay down with her trapped between him and the couch.

“…please pull through” Daryl whispers hoping she would respond even if it’s intentions were for her not to hear. But given she hasn’t said anything in a minute, got him worrying again. “Y/N?” He shifted slightly going to check her pulse but just the smallest movement jostled her eyes to open with a glare before closing once more and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

Y/N went in and out most of the night but her shivering stopped after a couple hours. She clung onto Daryl with a bruising grip taking in all the warmth he gave…he didn’t dare letting go for whatever reason afraid she freeze all over again.

But after being in that state for two days and her clothes dried eventually with the help of the fire…Daryl let go to help her redress keeping his focus on her actions as she fumbled trying to work the buttons of her flannel that he eventually helped her.

The archer wore his crossbow on his chest, the rabbits on his belt, and carried Y/N on his back still wrapped in the blanket on their way back to where the others were.

About halfway there, Rick and Glenn met them as they had come to a decision recently to go out and search for them once the blizzard passed…

“Is she okay?”

“She’s sick” You don’t survive freezing temperatures without a cold or flu to follow.

“Is she bit?” Glenn gestures to her ankle wrapped in bandages Daryl had.

“No, she fell. Fell once before falling into the river” Daryl states walking passed to make it to the house as the two who joined them kept an eye on their surroundings.

“You’re lucky we found some Tylenol on the run we went on when y’all went hunting” Rick states. “Should help with the fever”

“Hershel is gonna want to isolate her when we get back. Just in case—-“

“Don’t yea dare finish that, kid” Daryl snapped while pushing the door open with his foot as Rick took care of keeping it open for him to come through.

Out of instinct, Hershel rose to his feet gesturing to the other room to keep Y/N in even if it was the kitchen and Maggie laid a blanket on the floor before Daryl laid her down.

“Wish I had a thermometer to get an actual reading, but she definitely feels warm. I’m guessing you held up somewhere to try and warm her up to avoid hyperthermia” Hershel gave Daryl a look listening to him hum in response. “Well yea did good, son. Kept her from getting worse”

When she woke, Hershel got her to take some of the medicine they collected along with some water before leaving her to sleep once more. Daryl waited til the old man left the room before pushing the table in the doorway in case of emergencies. He sets his crossbow down against the wall kneeling beside her adjusting the blanket to cover her more watching her roll over to face him.

“Hey…”

“You can speak clearly now” Daryl jokes about the shivering stuttering mess she was before and that got a small laugh from her.

“Thanks for keeping me alive…” Y/N whispered shifting a bit to get comfortable on the floor as Daryl gently brushes away the hair in her face.

“Had to…I wanted to…I needed to” He whispered to her as he brought himself to sit on the floor keeping close to her watching her extend her hand from under the blanket to hold his.

Daryl stayed with her the entire time…the entire time.

[thetriumphantpanda]

CHARLIEEEEEEEE my love, my light, my friend congrats on 1k!!!! I am so so happy that we found each other on this godforsaken app, you have become such a good friend and inspiration to me! For your smut sensation, I would humbly request: Joel Miller, squirting, breeding kink AND daddy kink hehe <3

DONI THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 🧡 If there is one thing I am grateful for on this app, it is you. Thank you for being such a dear friend to me, for listening to ALL of my crazy ideas and generally being my biggest cheerleader. I am so appreciative to have met you. ALSO, THANKS FOR THIS FILTH. I HOPE YOU BLOODY ENJOY IT.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.4k

Warnings | Explicit, 18+ Minors DNI. So, we've got, breeding kink, daddy kink, squirting, dirty talk and Joel Miller being a menace. Also slight implied age gap but age is not specified.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I'm accepting requests through July 15th.

There are flurries of snow falling outside, the cold wind whipping them up into a blizzard. It’s cold enough that the windows have started to frost over too. Come the morning, there will be a ton of snow to shovel off the front porch and a frigid wind that will have you praying that those on patrol don’t lose extremities to frostbite. Winter in Jackson could be unforgiving and cold, but right now you’re anything but. 

It has nothing to do with the fact that your houses have central heating and everything to do with the fact that Joel Miller has just made you come for the second time that night with just his tongue. It shouldn’t really surprise you anymore. You’ve been with this man for two years since he wandered back into Jackson, Ellie in tow, like two feral cats begging to be domesticated. And domesticate him you did. This man between your thighs worshipped you. Worshipped the ground you walked on. He’d provided for you. Helped build a home with you. Given you happiness you weren’t sure either of you had ever thought you’d have again. There was one thing missing though. 

You’d been honest with Joel from the beginnings of your relationship, which began as more of a way for you to both take out your stress and frustration with each other more than anything before developing into something much deeper, that you’d always wanted children. You were never going to be safer than you were in Jackson, it was now or never. At first Joel had been wholeheartedly against it. You hadn’t pushed, not once he’d told you about losing Sarah and the truth about Ellie. But in the past year he’d been warmer, more receptive to the idea. Maybe it had something to do with Ellie pulling away, growing older, or that fact that he too was finally starting to realise that this place was safe, that it could give a growing child almost everything they’d had before the outbreak.

Joel’s fingers are what brings you back to the here and now. They’re sliding through your slick and into your tight heat easily, your back arching off the bed and into the palm of his hand as he curls them upwards in just the right way. The way he knows makes you come undone. He’s working his fingers inside you much like he would with his cock, with an unrelating and pounding pace that tonight, has something unfamiliar building in your belly. 

“Fuck, Joel-” You choke out, reaching between your legs to fist at his greying hair, “Don’t- FUCK- don’t stop.” 

His mouth is free, Joel knows that if he put his tongue on you now it would be too much, which leaves him free to spew utter filth up at you from between your legs, “Like that, don’t ya’, sweet girl?” He proves his point but thrusting his fingers into you at a slightly new angle, causing you to cry out and arch even further into him, “My sweet girl,” He coos, “You gonna let go for me?” 

As it always is with Joel, it’s overwhelming. The need to come, acknowledging it might be too much, thinking that there’s no way he’s actually going to make you come again, then proving time and time again that he can play your body like a damn fiddle and doing it anyway. 

“Know you can do it,” He praises, leaning down to press hot kisses to your clit, enough stimulation to feel good and help you towards your high, but not enough that it’s too much for you, “Come for me, come on my sweet girl.” 

You’re bearing down into his hand, grinding down to meet the upward thrusts of his hand as you finally let go for him. You feel it almost instantly, the gushing and the pooling of liquid on the sheets, Joel’s chuckle between your thighs, and the level of relief you feel. It had happened once before with Joel, during one of your earlier encounters – just as much of a surprise now as it had been then. 

“Well, well,” He groans, “Finally, gotcha to do that again,” his fingers are slipping from your aching cunt, “Beginnin’ to think it was a fluke.” 

You can’t speak, only hum in pleasure as he trails wet kissed up your belly, between the valley of your breasts and then up along your jawbone. He settle’s himself between your legs, you can feel the heavy weight of his cock slipping between the slick folds of your pussy as he works himself into position for you, hooking your knees around the backs of your elbow as he leans down to capture your lips with his. 

You can taste yourself on his tongue as it licks into your mouth, mixing with your own tongue as he moves and slips his thick cock into you in one movement. Your break from his lips to moan his name, eye opening finally to look at him towering above you. He truly was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. The greying of his hair and beard, the starts of his wrinkles, the scars you could see, and those you couldn’t but knew were there. 

“Always so fuckin’ tight for me, sweet girl,” He moans, pressing your legs further back to place kisses down your neck, “Always feel so good for me.” 

The way he has you folded, practically in half, means that every time he pounds into you, he’s hitting that spot again, you’re so spent at this point you don’t think you have anything else to give him, but there’s nothing more you love than watching Joel come undone for you. On every thrust you’re both groaning and calling each other’s names, you manage to free your arms enough to grip his biceps, leaving crescent moon shapes on his skin where you dig your fingernails into him. 

“Not gonna last- fuck, sweet girl.” He whimpers from above you. 

Something in your mind snaps. You’ve got your hands on the globes of his ass in no time, pulling him into you, “Joel, please-” You beg, “Come inside me.” 

You watch with hooded eyelids as he tilts his head back and slows his thrusts before he looks down at you, dark brown eyes clouded with lust, “You sure you know what you’re askin’ for, sweet girl?” He speaks quietly, voice thick. 

“I’m sure Joel,” You whimper, “Wanna make you a daddy.” 

“Fuck,” He whispers, “Say it again.” He demands, picking the pace of his thrusts back up. 

“Gonna make you a daddy,” You cry out, fingers digging into the skin of his ass, “Give it to me Joel, come inside me.” 

He lets your legs unhook from his elbows, only so he can get his lips right by your ears, “Gonna fill my sweet girl up,” He breaths into your ear, “Fuck you like this until you’re round with my baby.” 

“Fuck,” You can feel his hips starting to stutter, you know he’s close, “Joel, fuck- daddy - please,” You beg, “Fill me up.” 

That’s all it takes for Joel to do just that. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, painting your fluttering walls with his cum for the first time, letting out a strangled cry as he does. He stays buried inside you to the hilt as he catches his breath, kissing at the lobe of your ear before he’s pulling out of you and sitting back on his knees. 

His big hands are squeezing gently at your thighs as he’s looking at the mess he’s made of your pussy. There’s a blush spreading across your cheeks at his gaze, “Don’t get all shy on my now, hot mama,” He grins, “You look so good like this, my cum dripping outta ya.” 

You tip your head back and giggle, liking how the words ‘hot mama’ sound in his southern drawl, “I could get used to that, you know.” You smirk, reaching your hands out to drag him to the bed next to you so you can snuggle into his side. 

“I think I could too,” He presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, big palm splaying over your abdomen, “Think I could get used to you swellin’ up here as well.” 

“Going to have to fuck me plenty, to make sure,” You drape an arm over his chest, “Hope you can keep up, old man.” 

[aphrogeneias]

no more tears — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: it's halloween night, 1986. you want to celebrate your favorite holiday after the year you and your friends just had, but after being dumped by your, now ex, boyfriend a week before puts a damp on your plans. eddie munson, however, has a different plan for you.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, mentions of a past bad relationship, petty vengeance, protective!eddie, eddie being a sweetheart. eddie in a corset, eddie in leather pants (those are worthy warnings). drinking, smoking. implied smut towards the end.

author's note: happy, very early, halloween <3 i started writing this last year and originally, it was supposed to be a four-part series, and it became this one-shot. because of that, i'm sorry if it seems rushed, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Hawkins' suburban streets were a dull blur of white picket fences and houses that looked all the same, passing through the open windows of your car, despite the cold autumn wind blowing in. Even on Halloween night, where the air was full of childlike wonder and mischief, those same houses lit up with the same old seasonal decorations, the children going trick-or-treating, your school friends going out with the best of worst intentions. It all still felt dull to you. 

Perhaps because you felt that dullness deep inside of you, dead to the world around you. Fitting for such a morbid holiday — your favorite holiday, completely ruined by someone else's decisions.

Your self-pitying thoughts were interrupted by the curly-haired freshman who was currently inspecting the tapes piled in your glove compartment. You watched with interest from the corner of your eye as Dustin clicks the radio to a stop, without asking, and inserts your Blizzard of Ozz tape in the cassette player.

As the first chords of I Don't Know started echoing through the car, you teased, "Since when do you like these?"

"Since when do you care about what I listen to?"

Most days, you could deal with the kid's presumption, it was quite endearing, actually. That night, though, all you managed was to sigh as dramatically as you could.

"You've been hanging out with Munson a little too much." You pointed, "What's next? You're gonna grow out your hair like Mike is doing?"

"Mike isn't growing his hair out because of… Oh."

"You used to be more observant, Dusty."

You smiled at his silly expression, blue eyes wide with realization. It was the first time they could bring out a smile from you that evening, and you could tell that the teens in the backseat could feel the tension lift a little bit. 

The accidental mention of the metalhead made your mind wander once more. You wondered if you'd see him tonight, even if just for a moment, and if you'd be able to look and, perhaps, melt at one of his lazy smiles and cute dimples without feeling guilty for the first time since you met him. 

If being able to reciprocate Eddie Munson's lingering stares was the reward you got after being suddenly broken up with a week before Halloween, then you could start seeing an end to your current misery.

You didn't let yourself hang on to false hope, though. You were still nursing a broken heart and delusion wasn't going to help with it — but going home to a warm blanket, cheap wine and a bunch of horror movie VHS tapes that your Family Video friends had graciously delivered to your house after a very persuasive phone call.

After years of friendship, Steve Harrington still couldn't resist your pouting, even from a distance.

"Don't be mean. You're being awfully mean today, did you know that? Loosen up a little." Dustin snapped, but with little bite to his words.

You turned to him again, "Can you blame me?"

"Leave her alone, butthead." From her place in the backseat, Erica Sinclair, in her meticulously pink Barbie costume, interjects. "She's already doing us a favor and you're trying to be a smartass?"

Her older brother and Max Mayfield completely ignored Erica and Dustin's following little back and forth, stuck in their own little teenage love affair — and if, for only a moment, you were jealous of the easy, uncomplicated way they talked and held hands in the small space between their bodies, you shook it off just as quickly — as you winked at the youngest Sinclair from the rearview mirror.

You'd never tell anyone, but Erica had always been your favorite.

Their conversation was once again forgotten, overshadowed by your racing thoughts and eagerness to get home as soon as you could, until you parked in front of Steve's house, where your younger friends would enjoy their official party of their High School years. There had been a long time without any ragers at Harringtons', not since Steve became one of the losers, but after the events of last Spring, he thought we could all use some innocent (probably not that innocent on his side, god only knows that boy needed to get laid), spooky fun.

You'd thoroughly agreed before your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, put an end to all of your plans.

"Listen," you started, shutting the door of the driver's side of your car a little too violently while the kids gathered up outside, "if you get in any kind of trouble, call me. If you're gonna drink, or do any kind of drugs…" You're interrupted by groans and whines of 'really?' and 'we're not going to!', "don't do it alone, okay? And drink lots of water! Better safe than sorry, babies."

Most of that advice was just to mess with them, you knew they weren't anything like you when you were their age, but you cared too much about those miscreants to pretend that monsters and secret government organizations were the only obstacles they'd have to face in their teen years.

It's all a flurry of rolling eyes and quiet mumblings of "okay, whatever, we weren't gonna do any of that anyway" before they leave across the street to find the host of the party that was slowly, but surely, starting to fill in, groups of people coming into the house from both sides of the street, music echoing through the walls and into the evening air. Your heart clenched, heavy in your chest, wishing you could let go of the ache that was pulling you down and allow yourself to feel alive again, maybe just for one night.

You just about missed the pair of warm, brown eyes that watched you slouch back into your car and drive away.

On the other side of the street, Eddie Munson stood on the pristine front yard of the Harringtons' house, taking a long hit of his cigarette and rubbing the back of his hand over the eyeshadow spread on his eye, cursing and coughing when he realized the black stain it left behind on his skin.

He was uncomfortable and bored, listening to the deep bass line of Blondie's rapture coming from the house behind him, Debbie Harry's soft voice lulling him into a steady rhythm. He knew he was pushing it, coming to a place full of people, of people who half hated him at worst, half mistrusted him at best, even after his name was cleared. Worst of all, none of them understood his costume, which, to him, was the biggest insult of all.

Not knowing who Alice Cooper was supposed to be was one of the biggest treasons in his own, personal, Munson doctrine.

Now, he stood there, regretting every decision he had made that night, his leather pants pulling a little too tight on his legs and feeling a little too tempted to scrub the black eyeshadow from his face, thinking about a way to let his friends down gently when he bails on them.

His discomfort lasted until he saw your car pull up, and suddenly, leaving felt like a very, very bad idea.

Eddie was used to admiring you from a distance. From when he saw you for the first time, that fateful night at Reefer Rick's boathouse, it was all he could do without making a fool of himself. He didn't know how to carry himself around you, too caught up on your beauty, on your wit, or on how absolutely unattainable you were, to actually become close to you.

He watched you as one would watch the midday sun, high in the sky, with a hand in front of his eyes, protecting himself from being fully consumed by your light.

When you exited the car — Henderson, Mayfield and the Sinclairs following close behind — he noticed two things: your lack of a costume (or, rather, the fact that you were wearing something that was probably your pajamas, and looked incredible while at it), and the lack of a douchebag boyfriend beside you. 

Before he could walk over, perhaps use the kids as an excuse to talk to you, you left. Eddie was left halfway through the yard, a hand limp to his side as his cigarette laid long forgotten, and what must have been a ridiculous, confused expression on his face.

It didn't take long until Dustin and Erica found him, while Lucas and Max entered the house. 

"Hey, uh… where's Y/L/N going? Is she not… Is she not staying?" He swore he tried to act casual, but he knew from the expression on both his friends' faces that he wasn't doing a great job.

"Does it look like she's staying?" Erica crossed her arms, looking as intimidating as a little girl in all pink and glitter could look like. All he did was raise an eyebrow, and got one eyebrow raised right back at him.

Dustin was more understanding, in his Luke Skywalker costume, orange pilot suit and all. "She's not feeling well, man. Steve asked her if she could drive us because Nancy was already driving Mike and the Byers, but she went home."

"Oh." Again, he tried, to no avail, to hide the disappointment in his voice. Eddie Munson was, by no means, a good actor. "Do you know what happened?"

The boy opened his mouth to answer, but Erica beat him to the punch. "You know, I think she could really use some company tonight. No one wants to be alone on Halloween night, don't you think?"

She pulled Dustin away and towards the front door, eyes wise beyond her years giving him one final look before disappearing inside. 

Eddie knew she couldn't hear him as he screamed "I owe you one, Sinclair!" and rushed to the end of the street where his old van was parked, a sliver of hope and renewed excitement rushing through him like a live wire.

Scratch about what he said about regretting leaving his house that night, he had forgotten all about that as he sped to your place, a heavy guitar riff thundering hot on his trail.

You heard him before you saw him.

There was a horror film playing in your television, a blonde teenager running from a serial killer rolling on the screen, her terrified shrieks and the crescendo of the soundtrack filling the living room — not that you've been paying attention, you haven't been paying attention since a little after the beginning of the movie. You were too busy drinking your usual, cheap red wine straight from the bottle and stuck in your own thoughts, lying on the couch with only a blanket and your cat for company.

It approached slowly, the sound of his van's stereo. Then, it grew and grew, Quiet Riot's "Metal Health" seeming to echo through the entire neighborhood. It made you tumble out of the couch, feeling the effects of the alcohol rush to your head all at once, and running to the nearest window. You're still a tiny bit dizzy when you see him, after he stopped the engine and the music stopped, skipping out of the van and towards your front door.

You'd barely caught a glimpse of Eddie before you ran from the window, afraid to get caught. A million questions surged in that moment, the seconds between recollecting yourself and answering the loud ring of your doorbell, knowing who was waiting for you outside. How did he know you were home? Wasn't he busy tonight? What made him want to come to your place of all places?

All thoughts were cut short when you opened the door and saw him.

Under your front porch light, stood Eddie Munson, looking like every wet dream you had ever had.

Dressed in a tight, black tank top, a latex corset wrapped around his slim wait, and even tighter leather pants. Pale chest bare, it was the first time you were seeing his tattoos after visiting him at the hospital, months ago. He leaned in your doorway as soon as you opened it, a gentle smile in his full lips, brown eyes lined with a smudged layer of dark eyeshadow. Your legs might have given out if you didn't hold on to the wall. 

"Hey, Eddie." A greeting comes out as a gasp, letting out the breath that was stuck inside your throat. You hoped he couldn't tell how flustered you were, but if he did, you would blame the wine. "Is everything okay? Are the kids okay?"

It dawned on you that that must have been the reason he came all the way over to your house. You tried to bury down the wave of sudden anxiety when you watched his face fall slightly, before he replied “No, no, everything is fine. Uh… I just wanted to check on you, actually.”

The expression on your face — eyebrows pinched together in confusion — must have said it all, because then, he explained himself. “The littlest Sinclair said you might be needing some company tonight, but didn’t say why. I figured that if none of them were staying with you, then I might, if that’s okay.”

Eddie’s demeanor was uncharacteristically shy. He avoided your gaze, looking at the floor while speaking, but that only made you fonder — even then, he was still as sincere as always. Your heart did a little flip in your chest, warming you from the inside out, as you opened the door enough to let him pass, silently welcoming him in.

“Erica said that?”

“Yeah. Got me worried there for a second.” He eyed you with mirth from under his wild bangs while he toed off his combat boots and left them beside the other shoes on the floor near the door. That sweet, domestic sight didn’t go unnoticed but you had other things occupying your mind, such as a reminder to thank Erica for meddling in your Halloween night plans.

“There’s nothing to worry about, I’m fine. Just not in the mood to party, that’s all.”

“See, that doesn’t sound like you, Y/N.”

“How do you know that?”

“I guess I just know more about you than you’d think.”

You were still both standing in the small hallway that led to your living room, now staring at each other. Eddie felt out of place, next to the cream and beige shades of the wallpaper your mom chose when you moved there, in his all black ensemble, all leather and spikes and wild hair, but at the same time, you felt like he could belong there, if he stayed long enough.

You wished he would.

“I don’t know about that,” you sighed, “but if you want to stay and watch some movies, that would be more than okay.”

He smiled and leaned back, looking taller and impossibly handsome, dark eyes shimmering. You almost melted on your spot, but again, you wanted to blame it on the wine. 

“Lead the way, babe.”

At some point during the night, between one gruesome film and another, and a couple of bottles of wine being passed back and forth, you had scooted closer and closer together on your couch, until you were almost pressed flush against each other. Eddie was afraid to move and break whatever spell you seemed to be under, because he hadn't felt comfortable like that in a long time.

It was easy being around you. It hadn't been easy for Eddie to be around a lot of people, not since Spring Break, but with you, it took absolutely no effort to just be. To let go, to let his mind rest, to just focus on how warm the skin of your thigh was under your sweatpants, almost touching his, to make you laugh with his witty commentary of the awful movies you'd chosen to watch, to watch how beautiful you looked under the blue light of the television whenever you looked away from him.

He had it bad, that much he knew. Been smitten for a long time, enamored with the girl just out of his reach, but close enough to admire without guilt, but he wasn't about to let his feelings be known quite yet. Not when you were so close, so perfect, so… approachable, for the first time ever.

Eddie had never liked your boyfriend, from the first time he met him — just another Hawkins rich boy, swim team star, on his way to some fancy college out of state, and worst of all, he got to call you his. Unlike Steve Harrington, who managed to sway his usually unshakable opinion, Andrew just proved him right every time he had the unfortunate opportunity to meet him.

The first time he saw him was right after the dust had settled. He had just walked out of the hospital as a free man, mysteriously forgiven by the law enforcement that just a few days earlier was set on kicking him while he was down, and was received by his friends back at his trailer, a small committee complete with a handmade "welcome back!" sign and a cake baked by you. 

You, who welcomed him back with open arms and never stopped fighting for him, even if you'd only officially met a week before.

You'd spent that afternoon in his bedroom, along with his friends and his uncle, all sitting around his bed and reminiscing, happy to be there, happy to be alive. Still recovering from your wounds, seen and unseen, leaning on each other like a lifeline. He remember holding your hand that day, acutely aware of the ring on your finger, but doing it anyway — your hold never faltered, instead, you ran your thumb across the skin of his hand and smiled.

Was that what bliss felt like?

Later that day, you were the first to leave. Andrew came to pick you up, Dustin announced as he was the one to answer the door. A frown made its way to your face, if only for a second, and that was enough to make Eddie decide he didn't like the guy. Not only that but he insisted on walking you to the door, ignoring the protests coming from all around the room.

Walking slowly, as much as his still fresh bite wounds would allow, he let you lead him to his front door, a gentle hand on his back, guiding him. He didn't let himself feel bad for using his battered state to let you touch him without guilt, he could do that later, after the comforting warmth of your touch had stopped branding his skin. 

When you opened the door, that's when Eddie saw him. He knew Andrew hadn't been there during Spring Break, away with his family to some tropical destination, far from the horror they, you, had to endure. Eddie could tell he didn't care much either, letting you tend to your also still fresh wounds, both physical and mental, by yourself most of the time after he got back, only calling you when he needed something.

Eddie tells himself he would never let you out of his sight, if you were his girl, but there's also a lot of other things he likes to think about when he considers that scenario.

He watched you say goodbye, squeezing his shoulder before leaving and descending his trailer's stairs, down to your boyfriend's nice car and cold arms, leading you away from him, but not before leering him down at his own doorway, a condenscending, degrading look Eddie knew a little too well by now.

Not a word was spoken between the two, but there was no need, Eddie already made hating him into a new hobby.

With that sudden rememberance, your soft giggles bringing him back to the present, Eddie couldn't help but ask.

"What happened to your boyfriend?"

Without missing a beat, you chuckled, and responded without looking at him. "He dumped me."

"He what?" His question sounded a lot louder and high-pitched than he had intended. Eddie thought it would be easier for you to have dumped him other than the opposite.

Who would be stupid enough to let you go like that?

With a long sigh, you clicked the remote to pause the movie, and turned around to face him fully. He tried not to show how disappointed he was to lose the physical contact you had at that moment, but his hand clenched almost involuntarily, eager to reach out and pull you back. Where you belonged, his traitorous mind added.

"Dumped me, yeah." You sat with your legs crossed and he did the same, turning to hear you. "Last week. Unceremoniously, might I add, through the phone, even. I heard through the grapevine he's already dating someone else, but that might be just rumors, or maybe not, honestly I expect anything from him at this point."

Eddie's mind was reeling. "Was that why you didn't want to go out tonight?"

"That's part of the reason." You nod. "I just really don't wanna risk seeing him and Halloween is my favorite holiday, I don't want it more ruined than it already is."

The urge to punch the guy in the face was strong, stronger than it was when he was still recovering, when you were still together. It made him restless, fidgeting in his seat. The hand that lied limp at his side finally reached out, sitting on your knee and squeezing it only slightly. "I'm sorry. I know that it's not worth much, but I really am. You deserve better."

A weak smile formed on your lips, but it didn't reach your eyes. Eddie desperately wanted to make your face light up again. A brief idea struck him, then.

"Do you know where he might be tonight?"

"Benny's, probably. I don't know. I don't want to know." Despite your distress, you looked adorable with your nose scrunched and your head down, picking on your already chipped nail polish. Unable to help himself, Eddie finally reached out, his first unmistakably purposeful display of affection towards you — a little unsure, a little clumsy, but it still felt right — bringing his curled index finger below your chin, gently tipping your head up, making you meet his eyes.

"You might wanna know about what I'm thinking."

His voice was soft, but his dark eyes were full of mischief.

It was late when you got to Benny's. Not that anyone there would mind, the music inside was blasting loud enough that it could be heard for miles, and the people who were outside were all too intoxicated to mind your presence.

The basketball team, and seemingly every other jock affiliation at school, had a different party happening on Halloween night. They must have not gotten their big suburban house for themselves this year, Eddie thought. He would usually try to crash these parties, make some money out of the only few times these jocks didn't abhor his mere presence to his advantage, but things had changed for him, and for all it's worth, he had better things to do tonight.

Getting your ex-boyfriends back from what he did to you was his first priority. The second was making you forget all about him.

You and Eddie must have looked like quite a pair. He was still in his full costume, standing out from the more boring looking costumes the popular crowd opted for that evening, and you had put on the first outfit you saw after he'd told you his plan and whisked you away in his van. An old black sweater and ripped jeans, he saw your mismatched socks before you put on your boots, the ones that were already near the door. 

To him, you looked perfect, but he could tell how uncomfortable you were with all the people around you. Your ex's friends, he assumed. Eddie wondered if you were ever at these parties, and if Andrew even cared about how you felt about them. He doesn't want to think too much about it or he could feel himself get mad again.

"Hey," he brought a hand to your back, moving it up and down in a soothing manner, "we'll be in and out of here, 'kay?"

"Yeah, I know." Your smile was small, but Eddie was relieved to see it anyway. He promised himself he'd make convincing you to leave your house worth it, and he'll keep his promise.

"So… which one is his car?"

He watched you point to a tan-colored Jeep towards the end of the improvised parking lot. Silently, he grabbed your hand and led the way towards it. It wasn't a very well thought out plan, the one came up with whilst he seethed thinking about an asshole like that dumping a girl like you. It demanded serious action, in his humble opinion.

Property damage, more like it.

Eddie had been trying to stay out of trouble since the events of last March. He'd been officially cleared of all charges, something to do with the reappearance of Chief Hopper and his connections with the government. The details were foggy, he barely remembered signing all of those documents, still in his hospital bed and hazy from the medication. Wayne probably knew more than he did, but Eddie never asked too many questions.

He tried to go on as normally as he could, working odd jobs here and there as his body recovered, doing his best to heal his mind too. He stopped selling, graduated in May, spent more time with his new found friends — his new found family — and his old ones. Started dreaming about a girl who belonged to someone else, foolishly hoping that someday she would be his.

Not so foolish now, those dreams seemed.

Keeping out of trouble was surprisingly easy after you'd barely escaped life in prison, or worse — Eddie discovered there were far worse things than getting locked up, or living up to his family name. After all that, a minor misdemeanor was worth it if it was going to make you smile, at least in his eyes.

When you approached the Jeep, he could tell there was something going on in there. If he noticed, you noticed it as well, inching closer to it, slowly, trying to not get caught. The car was not empty, there were two people in front seats, making out — your ex and a girl Eddie did not recognize.

The first thing he felt was your grip on his hand tighten, and when he turned his body around to look at you, you looked away. Heartbroken, a dejected look on your pretty face, lips turned into a frown. It was almost like you didn't want to be seen at that moment, trying to hide, but Eddie couldn't let you. His own heart breaking for you, but willing to do whatever it took to mend it.

He took your face in both of his hands, urging you to look at him. "You don't need to get any closer, all right? Let me handle it, it was my idea. We won't spend more than five minutes here, I promise. Then I'll take you home, or we can go wherever you want. Far away from him, okay?"

"Okay. It's okay. I trust you, Eddie." 

The chill he's been feeling having foregone his jacket is readily forgotten as he takes in how sweet your eyes look in the low light of the street. He runs his thumb over your cheek just briefly before letting you go, going over to Andrew's car.

Thankfully for the height of the car, it was easy for Eddie to crouch and quickly grab the butterfly knife he usually kept on the inside pocket of his jacket — for safety measures, especially after being almost eaten alive, he didn't feel well without a weapon within close proximity. Call him crazy, but maybe there's always demobats to be fought, or asshole ex-boyfriends to screw over.

He cringed as he noticed the car starting to shake slightly, and prayed that you'd kept looking away. Eddie made a quick job of it — light on his feet, he slashed each of the four tires, and as he watched them slowly deflate, he ran towards you. You looked at him, covering your mouth to hide your nervous laughter, and he put his finger to his mouth, signaling you to keep quiet.

Together, you ran. Eddie didn't know who grabbed whose hand first, but when he came to himself you were running in the direction of his van, and you were giggling openly, making him smile until his cheeks hurt in turn. When you stopped, panting and still laughing, none of you let go.

"I can't believe we did that."

"I did that. You just watched, sweetheart."

Rolling your eyes, you pulled him a little closer by the hand you were holding. "Still, you're my hero, Eddie Munson."

"Couldn't stand thinking about what that dick did to you. He never deserved you in the first place."

He thought he'd said something wrong when you didn't say anything right away, but he was pleasantly surprised when you finished closing the distance between you, capturing his bottom lip between yours in a delicate kiss. He stood there, shocked for a second, before bringing his hands to your waist, drawing you to his chest.

Your arms around his neck, his traveling to your back, the sound of the deep bass coming from the inside of Benny's drowning everything around you. You were all he could feel, your soft lips melding with his, taking in all the little noises you made when he touched you just right. Feeling you under his touch was kind of surreal, like he couldn't believe it was happening just yet.

He swallowed the sigh you let out, just before drawing away, looking for air. "What was that?"

"Just a thank you, for now." You pointed with another peck to his lips.

"For now? What's for later?"

"Take me home like you promised and you'll find out."

"Baby, you don't need to…," not even he expected the pet name, or what followed, "you know, thank me like that. Or at all! I wasn't expecting anything from you…"

Before he could say anymore, you silenced him with another kiss, this time sucking on his bottom lip and letting him deepen it, taking the opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth, getting lost in the taste of you. Eddie walked you back until you hit the side of his van, his hand covering the back of your head, softening the impact.

He couldn't bear to hold himself back any longer, and you didn't seem to want him to slow down either, pulling him impossibly closer by his hair, making him moan into your mouth.

"I know you weren't, but I've been wanting to do this for a long time."

"Yeah?" He tilted his head, running his hands under your sweater, feeling your warm skin under your shirt, "Not longer than me, I'm sure."

"Wanna bet?"

The rest of the night was a blur. When Eddie woke up the next morning, naked on your bed, all he could remember was spending through the streets, dividing his already thin attention between kissing you and the steering wheel, drinking wine on your couch until you started taking your clothes off, and stumbling up the stairs while he removed his.

You slept peacefully beside him, your hair like a halo around your head, faint purple hickies on your neck. Though his mind was foggy, and his head ached with a hangover he was sure to blame your cheap wine, he didn't regret a thing he did the night before.

Later, when you woke up, after he spent looking at your ceiling and wondering how did he get so lucky, you got under the sheets and thanked him some more.

[savorypink]

focus!

you are everything. he's just alex.

smut.

"You said I'd get an A. What is this?"

You toss the paper in his direction as if it's contaminated. The B minus scribbled in the corner of your paper marks the beginning of the plague of imperfection threatening to riddle your body. If you held it any longer, your fingertips would've turned black. Alex merely stands there, but his heart begs to jump out of his chest.

"Well, uh," He stammers, admittedly cutely. "I had other papers to finish, and you asked me to do yours while I was busy..."

Your lips curl into a pout, and Alex feels his jeans tighten. "So, I'm not a priority?"

"No, no, no! It's not like that!" His voice is drenched in panic while yours remains coated in molasses. "I just...had things to do, y'know?"

"Important things? More important than me?"

You bat your lashes this time, and his knees turn to pudding. "Never! No!"

Opening your laptop, you ignore his reddening features and click on your e-mail. "Here's what's going to happen: I'm going to ask for a rewrite, and you're gonna write me a brand new paper—one that'll get me an A. Understand?"

He nods frantically, but you don't see with your head buried in your computer. "Verbal confirmation, please." You reiterate. 

"Whatever you say."

You peer from your laptop to smile at him, sweet and warm as spring. "You're the best, Aly."

Alex granted every wish you pleaded for whenever you waved a manicured finger. Your friends had been kind enough to direct you to him at a campus party. Timid and reeking of cigarettes, he fumbled with his flirting as he tried to keep his eyes off your chest. Your gaze proved too intense for him, and it wasn't like you were listening anyway. You gathered that Alex majors in monkeys and is in a band called Literature. Something tells you that you've mixed those two things up, but as long as he agreed to do your work, it didn't matter what he did on the side—or what he did at all. You ruled the pristine hallways of your university while he meekly sniffed the breeze in your wake. You've given more attention to the gum underneath your shoes.

It plucks your nerves when you realise he's still standing there, but you open your Myspace and begin scrolling. "You can go now. You have a paper to write."

Your brutal, icy shoulder only makes him eager to restore your warmth, but Alex isn't partial to a little bit of snow, and you could be a blizzard at times. "Well, I did write your paper, and um—"

"And what?" Your fuse is as short as your skirt.

His shaky fingers fiddle with the white sleeves of his hoodie, nausea and lust churning and warming his stomach. "You still haven't paid me. And there's the paper before that..."

And the one before that, too. You haven't been holding your end of the bargain, and the poor boy is within his right to complain. But, oh, you're just so busy! Sports, school, getting your nails done—okay, you may have told a tale or two to get out of doing your assignments, but what did he think making a deal with you would entail? If anything, he should be thankful for the attention. You don't have time to waste on boys.

Closing your laptop, you rise from your desk. As you take two steps forward, Alex takes two timid steps backwards until you've backed him into your bed.

"But Aly," you whine as you straddle him, "I told you I was busy that day! And I don't pay you to write papers that don't get me an A. In fact, I think you've been slacking."

Alex begins fisting the pink bed sheets in abundance, the sweet scent of your cotton candy perfume inescapable and dizzying. "No! 's not true!"

You pout with faux sympathy as your fingers work on unbuckling his belt. "Yes, it is! I'm worried about you, actually..." You cup his chin and turn his head to examine the acne along his jawline. "You're breaking out like crazy! Stress causes pimples, you know!" You exclaim. 

Your touches, while minimal and featherlight, nearly make him cream his pants. His large Bambi eyes look up at you in spectacle and guidance as you pull him out of his jeans, the leaky tip of his cock barely grazing the silk of your panties.

"My poor Aly, you're stressed 'cause you're not focused!" You pull your panties to the side before sinking onto him. Your hand clamps over his mouth before he can let out a pathetic, low groan. "You gotta stop worrying about everything and focus on me!"

"Y-yeah? You think?" His body melts into the sheets as your core swallows him whole, his eyes painfully rolling behind his skull. "Fuck, you're so tight..."

You take his lifeless hands and guide them under your skirt. His clammy palms restore to life to squeeze the supple flesh of your ass while his hips needily buck into you, a plea for movement on your end. Since you're feeling generous, you peel off your shirt and toss your bra to the side. Part of your deal was that he only saw you naked when your grades were above average. You begin with small, courteous bunny hops on his dick, and Alex is already mewling, his nails digging deliciously painfully into your skin. You hiss, and you remove his hands from your ass and place them on your chest, bouncing on him harsher and faster.

"You're not even looking at me! It's like you don't even care!" Your frown is prominent in your words, and you know he'll light himself on fire if it means you'd never have to cry. His eyes creak open, albeit slowly. The sun outside your window casts warm rays onto your form, your skin and hair shimmering brightly without effort, evidently celestial. The only thing you need is a halo.

"Huh?" His tone is reminiscent of how he stares at you, love-drunk and in a blissful, rose-coloured haze. Your bouncing slows, and Alex quickly throws a fit, languidly and whiny, squeezing your breasts needily. Your core tightens its embrace around him, your slick dribbling hot and slippery down his weeping cock. The bed creaks as you dip to his eye level, the bubblegum flavour of your lipgloss mere kisses away as your lips ghost over his trembling mouth.  

"See? You don't even listen!" You wail as you glide your pulsating walls up and down his cock at a snail's pace. "I've been so kind and sweet to you, and you can't even get me an A. I thought you liked me. I thought you'd be good for me."

His grubby paws claw and clutch at your skirt while his legs kick wildly at nothing. The movements rumble your bed, and your meticulously positioned stuffed animals fall to their sides. Your name spills from his mouth like a broken faucet, and your hips show no sign of speeding despite your core being enamoured by his desperation. "I'm good! Promise!"

"I know, baby. You just need to focus!" You kiss his flushed cheek before towering above him again. "So, what are you gonna do for me?"

You resume your bounces, and Alex rejoices with a hoarse moan. His large hands enclose your breasts to toy with them roughly, squeezing and kneading until your nipples respond in stiffness. "I'm gonna write you a paper. A good one! Really good..."

You give a roll of your hips as a courtesy. "Good boy."

His sloppy hips meet your bunny hops halfway as something sticky and hot begins to trickle down his cock. Your ride gets slippery and, to your annoyance, messier. You mask your desperation with aggression and bounce faster, your hands full with the sweaty fabric of his polo shirt. A particular spot within your core is struck, and your walls quiver around him in surrender, and, just this once, you moan. Alex stumbles in your wake, weakly moaning as he splotches your walls with his warm, irritatingly gluey release.

His whining and pants persist as you climb off his lap, ricocheting off the walls of your small dorm. You give him one last once-over as he liquefies into your sheets, churning into a puddle of pathetic lust and goo. You dig through your chest underneath your bed and fish out a fresh pair of panties, pulling off your worn ones and tossing them across Alex's deflating and expanding chest. He flinches cutely.

"For your troubles." You snort as you pull on fresh panties. You don't realise how low on panties you are until you pull on your shirt; perhaps you've been too generous with your handouts.

"They're doing dorm inspections today, so don't overstay your welcome. And clean yourself up, please?" you instruct, pulling on your jacket before throwing your gym bag over your shoulder. "I'd invite you to my practice, but I know you'll be busy with my paper tonight."

"Yeah..." He huffs. "Busy..."

You swing the door open and smile. "You're the best, Aly."

As you exit, your descent downstairs halts when you pull out your phone to relay a message your favourite puddle of goo.

There's Clearasil and pimple patches in my drawer. Thank me later. x

Opening the outside door, you remember one more thing.

And I want my panties back!!!

[iouinotes]

Good gone bad | Coriolanus Snow (part one)

pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x female!reader

movie: Hunger Games: The ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

warnings: dark!character, smut

word count: 3,8k

summary: You are childhood friends and very close with him. When his behaviour starts to change for the worse, you try your best to hold on to his real-self.

a/n: I adored Snow the first half an hour, because he was a gentleman and cared so much! Then his character became dark, obsessive and murderous and it really was a game changer...but I definitely want to read the book, so I can describe his character in my following stories better!

part 2 here , part three

"I will call my new discovery just like you, Mr. Snow. The best student and the future of this world. No one will stand in your way, when the blizzard blows over the people. And because it will work so well for your little infatuation, it will function for every other naive creature too."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Coryo!" I shot his name across the hallway, when I see his blonde locks, ignoring the looks from my classmates around me. At the sound of my voice, his head turns in my direction and I run faster towards his figure. As soon as I catch up with him, I meet his curious eyes and look further down to his smiling lips.

"Good morning to you too. Let me guess, you have something really important to announce or are just very happy to see me." Holding the door open for me, I try to catch my breath, wanting to ignore the lovely tone of his voice and the way he looks so outstanding beautiful.

"Well, both, but I heard some gossip about the upcoming ceremony tomorrow. Details who is gonna get the scholarship." Now, while entering the room, I have his full attention.

When I heard about the changes, that were made I immediately searched for him, clearly knowing how much he was ready to sacrifice for this academic possibility.

As he stops walking and places his hands on my shoulders, stopping me in my foodsteps and searching my gaze, I feel my pounding heart.

God forbid this man to look at me this way.

As I try to avoid his intense glare, his hands gently move to my cheeks to focus my eyes on him. I feel myself blushing, fiddling with the rings, that are attached to my fingers.

"No time for jokes, please. What do you know?" I clear my voice, trying to ignore our close gap or the way his curls lay on his forehead and how his skin shines beautifully in the light- No, wait. Not good. We're just friends. I don´t like him that way. Nope.

"I- uh, so please don´t freak out on me, but rumor says it's not up to the student with the best grades to get the scholarship..." I watch his posture straighten, see the how his facial expression turns blank and the irritated change in his mood. And I promise you, it´s not good.

When he lets go of me to strike forward, I try to hold him back. "Wait- you are angry and disappointed, so talk to me first before you let your emotions out on the others, okay?" I catch his left hand and hear his upset breathing.

"It's just- you know, more than anyone, that I deserve this scholarship the most! And now the only possibility to help my family and to become successful are at risks, because someone decided to change the rules? God, I worked my ass off to be the one they choose and now I'll probably get laughed at, cause I didnt get it!" I nod, trying to calm him down by listening to his outburst.

"You do deserve it, I know that. But you still have the chance to stand out more than the others. You are intelligent and brave, very ambitious and you care a lot. Not only for your family and friends, but for everyone. You are the best candidate and if they don´t choose you, then it is the wrong decision. Because they need someone like you. Just like I need you, believe me." I hold his hand close to my heart, trying to convince him of his abilities and his good heart, to show him that he deserves every recognition he gets.

And it works, because he relaxes slightly and after another second passes, I feel myself being embraced in a tight hug. His hand holds the back of my head and I hear his quiet "thank you".

"Always, blue. I am here for you." His lips linger for a second on my forehead, the kiss leaves me feeling warm and in love.

Even if I try to deny it.

"It's been a while, since you called me that nickname." I look in his eyes, when he pulls back. Admiring the shining blue that follows my dreams.

I only smile at him, shrugging when we have a normal distance between us, that helps me to concentrate again.

"It slipped out, I guess. But you are right, the last time I called you that, we were in primary school. How fast the time goes." Nodding we gently smile at each other and I clear my throat, when I get more and more enchanted to him.

We have known each other for so long, but nothing has changed about us.

Expect my feelings for him. They seem to never go away.

So, when I step forward and his eyes follow me, I start to walk to class again.

"Come on, we're being late. The greatest student of all time does not come late." He shakes his head, smiling at me and when I feel for a moment that something is different between us, I brush it off.

When he's finally catching up with me, I order my thoughts.

Don't fall in love with him.

Pretend, you didnt fall in love with him.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

I am good at pretending, really. It normally helps me to focus on the important things in my life, for example school, my grades, studying and getting accepted by a college. Did I mention, my academic success needs to be excellent?

But now, the only thing I can concentrate on is him. And I can hardly pretend, not for much longer, that I am not in love with him.

Because his life is in danger, now that the Hunger Games have started and he is the mentor of the tribute of district 12, a girl named Lucy Gray, everything is different.

He is different.

I know him long enough, that I see how much he cares for her. And because I'm good at pretending, I can see right through his actions.

He maybe likes the girl, but even though he tries to hide it, he cares more that he is the victor in the end.

And that is something that I find quite odd. I mean, he always wants to win, wants to be the best and on top or ahead of everyone. But he was always fair, human and supportive.

But his behavior changed as the days passed. Of course, it's obvious that the violence and torment that the game brings with changes you. More for the worse, than the better.

But it's not only the pressure he is under or the tension that he feels, because he needs the girl to win. It's something different and I notice that none of this is doing him any good. Especially for his heart.

Because he is being distant, he talks less, smiles less, is acting like a person I don´t even know anymore.

And it scares me, it hurts to see him losing himself in the process of being successful.

The last time we talked, he said something to me that left me awake all night, thinking about the decisions and sacrifices he has to make to achieve his goal.

He said: "I will become president and when I am on top, the world will be as cold as the snow in the winter. Nobody will oppose me."

It scared me. He scared me.

And maybe it was the change of his behavior or the cold look in his eyes, with which he looked at everyone or maybe it was because I started to fear him, that I distanced myself from him.

And even though I thought, he wouldnt notice, he did.

And it made everything complicated.

He tried to approach me, talking and joking like we always did, but it wasnt the same. Because he wasnt the same. Even though the color of his eyes was still as bright as the sun, the way he looked at me hid something that was as dark as the night.

I didnt know how I felt anymore.

Because when fear is equal to love, do I fear him then?

I guess I did and it made me sick in the stomach. He lied, he betrayed, he murdered, he did things, I would hate anyone for.

He did things for that I started to hate myself, because I couldnt hate him. Not when he really was the victim in this cruel world, even when he presented himself as the victor.

But for me, he didnt win. Because he rather lost something.

My trust for him.

And that made him angry, so much that he started to manipulate his way into my life again, when I decided that I didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

At first it would be small things. He continued opening the door for me, even though I didnt walk to class with him anymore.

He always saved me a seat next to him, although I decided to sit somewhere else. Then he started bribing the teachers, so that I had to do my assignments with him, he started showing up by almost every place I would go to.

He would give me roses that I wouldn't accept or visited me at work, always with a smile on his face. But I could tell it wasn't real.

He wasn't his real-self after all. He pretended to be someone else and I couldnt trust this new version of him.

He cut his hair short, nowadays wears expensive and neat clothes, always speaks in a formal voice and does polite gestures.

Small smiles, fake laughs, adoring looks which he uses to hide his real intentions behind a facade.

He enchanted the whole world.

But his magic didn't work on me and he became more and more aware of it as the days went by and I continued to ignore him.

And then, on one evening he visited my dorm and before I could close the door, he stood in my apartment and said something, I will forever keep in mind. His presence began to feel like a short movie, captivating me with each encounter.

"I know that you don't like the way things are now. But I am doing this to maintain peace, to keep the people in the place they belong. And I want you to know, that you just need to understand my actions and start to trust me again."

As he spoke, he started to walk towards me, looking me in the eyes, trying to convince me. I had no way out, all I could do was to back up until I hit the wall and he was standing right in front of me. Starring at me, like I needed to be on his side.

I tried to avoid his gaze and the deep blue that somehow always successfully convinced me. Until now.

"Please look at me, I´m telling you the truth. You know me, I´m still the same guy. Why don´t you believe me?" His hands brush my cheeks, roughly holding my face in his hands to keep my eyes on him.

It wasnt new to me that he loved to manipulate. I overheard some of his lies, the hidden betrayal of his own best friend and I couldnt be sure, that he wouldnt do the same to me too.

The only thing I knew was that his striving for power was taking over his being and I seemed powerless to do anything against it.

"I can´t trust you anymore, Coryo. You are acting different and all the things you did-" his face gets closer to me and my heartbeat becomes faster the less distance there is between our faces.

I can´t deny it.

He looks so beautiful.

Even though I want to talk, he leaves me speechless. As if the cold blue of his eyes froze me into a stature, that can only listen to him.

"Everything I did was for you. I know you love me, always have and always will. But you don't admit it to yourself, you don't want to admit it. I know how you feel for me, sweetheart and you have no reason to stop loving me now."

His words are like magic, his eyes like a hallucination, that everything is fine. His hands so warm and familiar that it's hard for me to remember the bad things he did.

That he's trying so hard to make me forget about.

His fingers move around my neck, his body comes closer to me until we touch, until I can only see him and only he matters.

His face is so close to mine and my eyes flutter - out of fear or anticipation, I don´t really know - until I feel his breathing on my ear.

"If you just let me make you remember the old time. Everything we did, the fun we had, how much we trusted each other. How much I still care and appreciate you. Stop thinking and let yourself feel."

His lips touch my skin and I have to suppress a whimper. I can breathe in his scent, his hands around me confuse my thoughts. My dreams from back then, imagining being able to have him, love him and touch him - they make me insecure about my decisions.

I wanted him for such a long time, that it now seems impossible for me to actually call him mine.

But coming to my senses, realising he is no longer the sweet gentleman I fell in love with, I want to stop him, by holding my hands out to push him back. However his hands react quickly and enclose mine with a firm grip to press them against the wall.

"No, listen to me. I never told you, but I heard you dreaming about me once. You whispered my name, like your heart longed for me, in a way you would never be able to truly understand your feelings for me. Like I am the god you pray for and I promise you, if you would just let me, I would fulfill your every wish. Because, together, you and me, we can become holy in our own, untouchable way. "

When I try to shake my head, his hands change so that one of them is holding both of my hands and the other one is grabbing my face.

"Don´t fight against me, darling. It wont work. You know it, I always win."

And as his hands hold my chin and I can hear my loud heartbeat, his lips meet mine in a wild kiss, clearly showing me the control he has over me.

And it's addicting, but so so dangerous.

His lips are soft against my own and he roughly kisses me, like he's the devil trying to steal my soul.

His body feels warm against my own and I'm weak for a moment, gently kissing him back, enjoying the way he smiles at my reaction.

His kisses becomes more heated, his hands are roaming over my nightgown and his fingers caress the exposed skin. Everything feels too good to be true.

But I can´t let myself enjoy this, I need to focus.

"No- Coryo. We cant-" I try to studder, breaking the kiss and hating the way he makes me feel. Because I feel so good, like only he can make me feel this way.

When I interrupt our kiss and while I try to assert myself against him, I notice his anger becoming more and more obvious.

"What I do is only to make you happy, why dont you understand? I want to see you happy and because of that, I have to do certain things. Just like now." His intense gaze is focused on me.

Without being able to do anything, I suddenly feel a liquid on my skin, that first makes me shiver because of the cold, but in the next second, I feel as hot as if I was standing in the desert and would be dying of thirst.

His touch begins to feel like the only solution and I want more. So, I lean into his touch and literally melt against his body as his lips brush mine.

"Fascinating, as Dr. Gaul said. It becomes one with the skin and intoxicates the senses." He whispers, but I can't figure out what he means by that. The only thing I can concentrate on is him. Why was I here again?

"You need me. You said it yourself, I'm here to remind you." His voice is quiet and I feel my thoughts dissolving. Only the sight of him remains in my head.

His look, those beautiful blue eyes, they distract me and I can´t ignore the desire that his lips are about to meet mine again. We're just centimeters apart and even if I try to stop it, my emotions change. I stop thinking about all the things he did.

Instead, all I can think about is his touch, his lips. And now that I know the ghost of his touch, I wouldn't want anything else.

So, I lean myself forward and kiss him.

It feels like my insides burns with desire, something that is so indescribable, that I don't even know, if I'm capable of feeling this love for too long.

My hands move to his shoulders and to his head, but my control is quickly suppressed as he pushes me back against the wall. So that I almost can't move.

His fingers lift my chin up, I see him grinning smugly at me in triumph.

"Good girl, you only need to listen to me. No one else." And I want to believe him so much, that I suddenly want to forget my doubts.

So, I let him make me forget. His hands roam my body, freeing me from my clothes and holding me where he wants me.

And I let him because I remember that I always wanted him to have his way with me. And when I look at his face, I no longer differentiate. For me, only my Coryo exists.

I close my eyes and lose myself in these sensations, the heat of his words and his actions.

His lips are soft, his kisses leave me with an unknown want and I can't do anything other than just take everything he gives me.

When he strips me out of my pants and unbottons my blouse, he lifts me up against the wall. His hips are pressed against my waist and his kisses travel from my lips down to my chest.

"Everything I do is for you." His words sound familiar.

"You will never doubt me again, I promise you. I'll make sure of that. From now on, you will feel this good forever. Because of me, you hear me? Only because of me, always me." His words cover me like a veil, but I'm unable to process them. My head is so empty and just like he said, I only feel.

I've never not thought about nothing and even if it should unnerve me, I can't even remember to be bothered about it.

As my hands try to move further down to his back and my nails leave marks on his back, his hand squeezes my neck like a warning.

"I am in control, you do as I say. Now take off my pants, so I can fuck you until you believe in me again." I can't think straight, when his hands are undressing me, cupping my breasts and turning me on in a way, I only want to be here with him.

As soon as my hands undress him and his pants are pulled down, he tears my panties apart, meeting my lips in a wanting kiss.

I feel one of his fingers slipping through my wet folds, pumping roughly two fingers inside me. My mouth opens and moans escape me, while I hold myself onto his shoulders.

"You needed to play hard to get, huh? Look who is at my mercy now." My body is still pressed against the wall and as my eyes close on their own, I suddenly feel his tip at my entrance.

And when I want to protest, he places his hand on my mouth to keep me quiet.

"No talking back to me. If you don't listen, I will make you." He pushes himself into me and I feel every vein as his hands direct mine against the wall behind me.

When he starts fucking me, I'm sure I'll pass out.

"C-cant take- too big, please" I dont even know how to speak properly anymore. His hands hold me tight and his thrusts are so brutal, that I barely have enough concentration to breathe.

"What did you say? You want to please me? Then shut your mouth and let me use you." With every harsh thrust, I feel my muscles become more and more relaxed and only he is holding me up now. I can't concentrate on anything else other than him inside me.

My thoughts begin to only focus on being good for him.

I feel like my soul is leaving my body. All I can hear is the dull clapping of our bodies, my loud moans and his heavy breathing.

As he buries his head in the crook of my neck, I softly whimper his name.

I feel how he tenses, when he react to me calling his nickname. His eyes shift to me and suddenly he lets go of my arms and I put them around his shoulders without hesitation. The position now is much more intimate and I scratch his back as his thrusts become even deeper and harder.

I hear his heavy breathing and feel his arms wrap around mine too.

"Tell me you want me." His voice is menacingly quiet. When I don't answer, too focused on his hips thrusting into me, he lets go of the wall and lays me on my bed.

"Fine, I will make you say it then." He sits down and pulls me onto his lap with my back to him, sliding his cock into me again. I moan so loudly, that I notice him grinning contentedly against my shoulder.

"You like that? Good, everyone will know how me you like me, when I'm done with you." His hand directs me so his chest touches my back and one of his hands moves to wrap around my neck.

"You will get used to doing what I want and you will do it, because you want to. You hear me? You won't stay away from me anymore, you belong to me. Everything you do is for me and only me." My thoughts are so confused, I can't think straight anymore. All I know is that I have never felt so good and that he is the reason for my pleasure.

"But I fucked you dumb so it seems. Pretty, little thing. You are like my personal doll, that I can use as I please. This turns me on even more than I would have thought." He pushes me further down on him, making me bounce until that one special spot in me is abused over and over again. And all I can utter are useless words and loud moans.

"B-blue" I hear him chuckle darkly in response.

I'm no longer certain, that I'm even laying in the arms of the person I once loved so much.

"You should have let me fucked you much sooner. It would have destroyed any resistance you had towards me. Just like now and just like I wanted." His voice whispers in my ear and my head leans against his shoulders, my mouth opens and I feel every inch of him inside me.

His hand strokes the skin, where my heart lays and I feel his lips brush against my ear.

"If this heart ever beats for anyone else other than me, everyone in this world will die and I won't be afraid to tell you that it is entirely your fault."

I collapse in his arms, when I come, going completely limp and vulnerable, unable to move. This time I only seem to be physically present.

His arms wrap around me and he let me sink onto him again, then I hear his voice whispering promises into the dark room.

"You cant ever escape me. I will always find you and I will always get you."

[flower-yi]

When you enter the kitchen, a plate of freshly cut apples is on the counter.

Turning to the calendar reminds you of the very few times Zayne's home and not out at the hospital. Even still, he's confined to his office typing away at his computer despite having promised to slip into bed a few hours ago. (He's kissed you sweetly on the cheek, too; voice just a murmur in your ear. You feel as if his presence is rare, the sight of him is even rarer then.)

Light escaping beneath the door down left of the hallway is the only evidence that Zayne's awake. You went off to dreamland by the time he left bed, and you're only in the kitchen because you feel parched.

It's five hours past his initial promise. A full cup of water and an empty plate the only evidence of your being in the kitchen, you choose to stomp over to his office to swing the door open.

"Zayne, you said—"

It dies quickly, like a fire snuffed out between someone's fingertips. Your concern melts into pity that's reserved between lovers, the scene in front of you moving you into action to get Zayne in your arms.

Your little doctor is passed out on his desk, except he's not getting any restful sleep—his shoulders are tense, a crease making his eyebrows meet together, and eyes shut tightly. A soft shake on his shoulders is your attempt of rousing him awake, taking his face into your hand as you watch him awaken. His features slacken and his breath exhaling close to yours is a relief; an anchor in rocky seas; stability when there is disorder.

Green eyes reveal themselves. Even half awake, his gaze is soft.

"Did I fall asleep?" His voice is a rumble in his chest.

You scoff, "Didn't seem like sleeping to me."

Zayne has still half the mind to sound amused. "I didn't know we had a somnologist here."

"Quiet, you," You chide softly, pressing a kiss on your doctor's forehead. For all that he is freezing like snowflakes falling on your palm, the warmth in that chuckle of his is what gets you. It's perfect: full of sleep, but just exact amount of fondness that's gut-wrenching. "Let's get you to the bedroom."

He watches you clean his desk and close his laptop. The lights are turned off by his deft fingers, your exit from his office a quiet one.

"Didn't we talk about not bringing work to home?"

Zayne falls quiet. His reply comes five seconds later, "We did."

Yes, the both of you did, but... there seems to be no use of regurgitating the same topic over and over again when this becomes a pattern.

(Sometimes, Zayne is too caught in the cold to see that there's someone else in the blizzard alongside him.)

"I just don't want you to overwork yourself," is what you end up saying instead. "You're more sensitive than you realize, you know."

When you both enter the bedroom, his sigh is the only sound in the room.

"I do," He admits. "But that is precisely why I have you."

You think he's saying that to sway you, in some sort of way, and probably because—he has. Since he's met you.

"You mean that you can be strong and all when there's someone else?" With his pliant demeanor, you easily tuck him into bed. A ghost of a smile is on his lips as he stares at you.

"Because I trust that 'someone else' to protect that side of me," Zayne murmurs, watching you get into bed yourself. You hover over him, peering down into his eyes, listening intently to what he'll say next. "Just like I do when you get into trouble. Which is more than often."

Your eyes thin, smacking him on the shoulder as gently as you could. Even like this, he makes sarcastic comments to you. "Alright, big boy. Time to sleep."

"Mm."

"I said, go to—" You pause, stopping yourself. "Ah, well, goodnight."

Zayne's always quick to fall asleep. It both amuses and fascinates you how easily he can drift off, but then, him snoozing away can give you enough moments to stare at him.

He looks better like this. Relaxed, only crazy and whacky dreams entering his mind.

Maybe he's right, then, you think as you give his cheek one last caress. You can protect him like this.

That's what you were aiming for, anyways.

[the-californicationist]

a safe house

(Price/Reader) SFW - But MDNI on my blog please!

“Ghost! How copy? Riley, come in!” Price shouted into his headset. 

You were sending cover fire over the fallen tree that you and your captain were hiding behind. Unfortunately, you’d been separated from the rest of your team. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were on the other side of the large, icy ravine, and they had done a good job drawing the enemy away from the target zone. Price kept trying to connect, but there was too much snow cover. A nasty blizzard was rolling in, and you needed to find better shelter, quickly. 

“Captain! Enemy has been eliminated. We need to find shelter,” you tried to pull him up off of the ground. 

He looked up at you, frustrated,

“Aye, Corporal, but they’ll be back. We need to find a way to warn the boys.” 

“Look,” you showed him the map on your datapad, “Laswell said there’s an old town…I think she called it Khabnoye? It’s been abandoned for years, about two klicks away. There might be some old technology, radios, whatever. We can reach them on some long-range.”

“Alright, let’s move.”

It was a short distance, but the terrain was brutal due to the snow. You made it there by nightfall, and carefully approached the outskirts of the town, following Price’s lead to scope out possible enemy combatants. There was no one in sight. It truly was a ghost town, and you were justifiably creeped the hell out. 

A small house was mostly intact near the very edge of the town, plenty of empty space around its edges, and only one broken window. You began to sweep the rooms, of which there were only three, noting that its prior occupants had left in quite a hurry sometime in the late 80s. You were fighting a nameless, secret war inside of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, so most of the towns you came across were similarly abandoned. 

You stood in the kitchen with Price, catching your breath and unpacking your bag. He was starting up the small, convective space heater checking for high levels of radiation in the room, making sure it was sustainable for the night. 

“Alright, let’s go dark. No lights, no comms until we get a better idea about what happened,” he said in a low voice. 

“Yes, sir. I did get a notification from Soap, but the message is unreadable,” you showed him the datapad before you powered it down. 

He sighed,

“At least we know he’s alive and stable enough to send comms. We’ll work on connecting when this storm blows through.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Drop the formality, Sparrow. Not spending the whole night listening to your sirs.”

He was upset. The operation was ruined, and he had no idea where his team was or if they were even alive anymore. You said nothing, letting him unpack two MREs and prep the bags for you. You checked the other rooms. There was a tiny, filthy bathroom without running water, and a bedroom with a dingy full mattress without sheets. You set to work arming the windows with night vision motion cameras - much good may it do you with all this snow - and rigged the front door. 

“No use,” Price muttered, digging into his chili and beans MRE, starving.

“Why? You think we’re safe here?”

“No tracks in or out. No trash younger than me, and no pings for ten miles,” he showed you his passive EMP monitor, “Our tracks are covered by now with the storm. They’ll assume we rendezvoused back at the base. It was closer and easier to access.”

“Closer? Why’d you come here then?”

“Base might be compromised,” he shrugged, “Couldn’t reach McTavish, so we can’t assume anything at this point. Might as well get comfortable and wait til morning. This’ll clear once the sun comes out, and we’ll send an AM ping.”

You sighed a breath of pure relief, 

“I know I’ve only been with you guys for a few months, but honestly, I don’t know what’s more impressive, your technology or your level-headedness under insane fire. Feeling very much like the amateur I am, Captain.”

“You handled yourself well out there, little bird. I’m impressed,” his praise rushed through you like adrenaline, and you basked in it. 

“Thanks, Cap,” you smiled, drinking the broth of your soup and packing up your MRE trash into its bag. 

“You smoke cigars, love?”

It was midnight before you even considered going to bed. You and Price had stayed up in the kitchen, smoking and chatting in the dark, only illuminated by the glow of your ashes. The snow fluttered down outside, layering itself on the ground like a pile of white sheets. There’d be at least two feet of it at the door tomorrow morning. 

“...and I got this one in Amsterdam, chasing some smugglers out of the wharf. Motherfucker stabbed me right through the arm. Missed the bones, thank Christ. But, that’s not the bad one.”

You were telling each other stories about your scars, and you were in all states of dress. It was warm with the space heater, and you were comfortable around each other. Aside from admiring the mountainous swell of his shoulders and chest, you tried not to think much of it. He was hot, but he wasn’t interested. You just had a small crush. It would pass. 

Okay, maybe a big crush. But, you had some self-control. 

Some. 

“Oh,” he leaned across the table to get closer and look at your arm, “What was the bad one?”

You blushed, not that he could see it, 

“It’s in a certain spot. Not sure you want to - ”

“Don’t make me beg, little bird,” he smirked, rolling his eyes at your modesty. 

He was right, of course. You weren’t sure why you were shy. 

Liar. You were shy because you had an enormous, filthy crush on your commanding officer. 

You tucked your elbow beneath your shirt and pulled it up over your chest, showing him your sternum,

“This one. It’s a - ”

“Flare burn,” he whispered, his demeanor changing from jovial to serious very quickly. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

He was silent for a long time. You watched as Price too a big mouthful of cigar smoke before letting it billow around him, looking like a big, brooding dragon in the quiet room. 

“How’d you get it?” He asked, avoiding your question. 

“Enemy trap. They rigged the door to blow a flare. My vest, all my plate, none of it mattered. The flare burned so hot that it cut right through the gear like butter. If it wasn’t for our medic knowing that he needed to knock it out, I would’ve died. Three weeks in the med bay. It was bad.”

Price reached out slowly, almost as if not to scare you, and touched the circular wound. It wasn’t sexual, but that didn’t stop you from immediately feeling aroused by having his hands on you. You shuddered involuntarily, and he jerked his hand back. The silence in the room was suffocating.

“Sorry, little bird,” he whispered his apology, “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you chuckled, taking a drag of his cigar for yourself, trying to calm down, “Uh, no.”

“What?” He prodded, not realizing what truth he was asking you for.

“It’s nothing, sir,” you stood up from the table, trying to escape, and forgetting you were in a 200 square foot house. 

He stood with you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. You sighed into his contact against your will, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he did. 

“It just…” You tried to throw him a hint, “Feels good, you know. To be touched. Been a long time… sorry, sir.” 

“Told you to swallow those sirs, little bird,” he whispered in a low rumble, putting his other hand on your other shoulder, grabbing you gently. 

There was very little space between your bodies now that you were away from the table, standing in the no-man’s-land between the bed and the kitchenette. It smelled like sweat and tobacco and 1987 in there, and you were breathing hard, nervous and desperate for him to do something to you that he couldn’t take back. 

“Sorry,” you said under your breath, not knowing what else to tell him.

Price lifted your chin up to meet his eyes, grabbing your jaw firmly, but gently. In the blackness of the night, the moon reflected only a little of his icy blue eyes, and the glow from his cigar made his face appear sharp and saurian. You didn’t expect for his touch to be so light. Just hours ago, he’d snapped a man’s neck with these same hands, and now he was passing the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip like you were the petal of an orchid, careful not to bruise you. 

“I’m trying,” his breath was ragged as he confessed, “I promise, I’m trying to let it go, little bird.”

“Let what go?” You put your hands on his hips, trying to steady yourself, feeling dizzy with lust and fear. 

“My desire,” he put his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, struggling, “Turn me away. Please, little bird. End my fucking torment. I’ll never mention it again. I swear it.”

You kissed him, pressing your lips into his chastely but firmly, enjoying the heat and the smoothness of his skin, the smell and the feel of his beard, coated in tobacco smoke and his own sweat. The comforting spice of the chili lingering on his mouth. He breathed in like you’d pressed a hot iron brand into him, blissful pain radiating through his body, pulling you in close to his chest. He deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth against yours, moving your skull with his powerful jaws, leading you, commanding and strong in his desire. 

“Love, don’t… don’t do this. Not unless you mean it. I’m bloody beggin’ you.”

You smiled, resting your nose alongside his, kissing him again slowly and carefully before answering him, 

“I mean it, John. I mean it.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated! <3 <3

AO3 Link

[6rookie-writer0110]

Still got it

Wednesday Addams x Male Reader

Request - Hiya can I ask for a Wednesday addams x male reader (can control winter weather and magician) established relationship where he sees her kiss with Tyler and is furious and confronts them and breaks up with her and after that blizzards and winter storms are summoned he eventually helps in the final fight.

You are in town and you are about to pass the cafe shop, but you see your girlfriend. You watched them kiss each other and Wednesday didn't stop. You barged inside the cafe shop and you started to yell at them.

“Why would you kiss him!?” You yelled.

“Who are you?” Tyler asked.

“I was her boyfriend,” You said.

You pushed Tyler then he pushed you back.

“Y/n-” Wednesday said.

You didn't let her say anything and you don't want to listen to her excuses. She tried again to say something but you started to yell at them.

“It’s over, Wednesday!” You yelled.

You leave the cafe shop and you form your hands into fists. Your anger starts to get stronger and you walk back to the school. Your anger starts to fuel your magic and you are not thinking straight. Your magic starts to control the weather, a blizzard starts to form. Everyone in town notices the grey sky then Wednesday walks outside and watches the sky turn even more grey. Then a loud thunderstorm strikes and everyone starts to feel scared they rush home. But Wednesday figured out, that your powers are doing that. Again, the thunderstorm strikes but louder, and Wednesday heads back to school. She figured you would be there in your dorm room.

It starts to snow heavily and you are still walking to school. You don't notice the weather changing because of your anger. You are feeling hurt and angry and your mind is all over the place.

“Why she would cheat on me” You mumbled.

It took a while but you made it back to school. You are shivering because of the blizzard and you lock your dorm room. You sit on your bed and you sigh. But Wednesday knocks on the door hard but you don't move.

“Y/n, open the door. I won't leave until you open the door” Wednesday said.

You don't say anything.

“Y/n, I know you are in there,” Wednesday said.

She knocks on the door again but you don't move or say anything. You start to use your magic to make her leave, your magic sends Wednesday to her dorm room.

———

For the past few days, you have been using magic to avoid everyone. Wednesday has sent Thing to speak with you but you would use magic to avoid him. But Wednesday has tried to speak with you but had no luck. But Wednesday tries to figure out what her visions mean and the big fight. Enid has been keeping you up on what is going on with Wednesday and more.

You used your magic to spy on Wednesday’s dorm room. You see a crime scene board in the room and you start to look at it carefully. Your brain starts to work fast and you start to put the clues together. You noticed her drawings of Joseph Crackstone and you recognized it from a book. You stopped using your magic and you went to look for the book. You went to the library and you used your magic to search for the book faster. Then you start to search for his family tree starting from the beginning.

✬ ✫ ✯ ✬

You figured out who is the Hyde and who is controlling him. You rushed to look for Wednesday but the school was under attack by Joseph Crackstone. You start to help your friends and protect others with your magic. Then you start to look for Wednesday and you find her badly injured and bleeding out.

“Wednesday!” You yelled.

You run towards her and you see the wound on her stomach.

“Y/n. It's Marilyn Thornhill -” Wednesday said.

“I know. She was born Laurel Gates then changed her name and wanted to get revenge. I figured it out” You said.

Wednesday is feeling weak and you used your magic to heal her. She is feeling better than you helped her fight Joseph.

——-

You are helping Ajax and Enid study for the science exam. They noticed Wednesday walked in then they stared at you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Ajax and Enjd said they needed my help,” Wednesday said.

“We lied so you and Wednesday can talk,” Enid said.

“But we really needed help to study but we will let you and Wednesday talk,” Ajax said.

They leave the library then you and Wednesday stare at each other.

“Thank you for saving me,” Wednesday said.

“You're welcome,” You said.

“About the kiss…” Wednesday said.

“I don't want to talk about the kiss,” You said.

“I’m sorry,” Wednesday said.

You and Wednesday leave the library. She tells you about a new mystery that she has to solve. You offered your help and she didn't say no. But you and Wednesday go into town and you see the guys that ruined the Rave'N Dance.

“Why are you using your magic?” Wednesday asked.

“They deserve it,” You said.

She watched you use your magic, a car passed by, and you created mud to get on it.

“Childish but not a bad idea,” Wednesday said.

You use your magic to make a black rose appear, then you give it to her. She likes it then she holds your hand. You kiss her on the lips and you smile at her.

Much later, you help Wednesday with the mystery of who wants her dead. You and Wednesday break into Principal Weems’ office. You and Wednesday start to search for clues of anything. You get on the laptop and Wednesday tells you which files to open.

“It’s a long list. Anyone can be your enemy since the first day you arrived” You said.

“I’m not worried. I know I’m stubborn, single-minded, and obsessive. But those are all traits of great writers. Yes, and serial killers” Wednesday said.

You turned around and looked at her.

“Wait, are you going to kill me?” You teased.

She kissed you on the lips and then whispered.

“I’m not going to spoil the fun and tell you, Y/n that I'm going to kill you,” Wednesday said.

You can't tell if she is lying or not, she didn't show emotion. You were going to click on Rowan Laslow’s file.

“Why are you going to open his file?” Wednesday asked.

“He hated you. So, let's start from the beginning and find out if anyone knew about it or who else did he hung out with bodies Xavier” You said.

Before you can read it, someone starts to open the door. You grabbed her hand and used your magic to escape the room. You used your magic to get into her dorm room.

“That was close,” You said.

“You could have used your magic to block the door from opening,” Wednesday said.

“You're welcome for not getting caught,” You said.

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Let's get something to eat,” You said.

“Fine. But we going back somehow to find out about Rowan’s file” Wednesday said.

“I know,” You said.

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 23: Blizzard of Emotions

Prompt: "We can fix this, I know we can"

Based on this ask by @randomfoggytiger: Mulder and Scully are forced to check into a motel during a snowstorm. Memories, tension, and misunderstandings await. Rating: R, wc: 1,427.

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

What causes them to get trapped in freezing cold temperatures for the second time in less than a year? The snow surprised everyone. A once in a lifetime blizzard. Unforeseen circumstances. By now, Scully has heard it all. She's hugging herself so tightly that her hands nearly touch behind her back.

In truth, the motel they found while fleeing from the snowstorm is cozy and warm. There’s a fire roaring at the other end of the lobby, but Scully can’t get warm.

Her body remembers the snow; the endless white cold. She glances at Mulder, wondering if he has similar thoughts. She could ask him, but then she’d have to talk to him, and right now, they aren’t talking.

How that happened, she isn’t sure. All she knows is that it has to do with the only other refugee from the weather who also didn’t get a room in the motel.

Benjamin.

He's a bit older than them, with a distinguished look—like an older cousin of AD Skinner, but with hair. Lots of it. Chestnut brown, and when he walked in, he shook his head like a dog, making Scully smile. He’d smiled back and introduced himself.

He was on his way back from a conference about cardiovascular health. That was the first time Mulder raised his eyebrow. During the whole conversation, he’d been quiet. He sat there, watching the other man, but keeping his thoughts to himself. A very un-Mulder-like move.

Scully, however, reveled in the conversation. Dr. Benjamin Cartwright was a delight. They talked as if they’d known each other for five years and not five minutes.

She asked him if he needed to make any calls home, let his wife know that he was detained. The second Benjamin said that he wasn’t married and that no one was waiting for him, Mulder had cleared his throat.

“Are you all right?” Scully asked him, worry seeping into her voice.

A snippy ‘fine’ had followed and then he’d started pacing like a caged lion. Scully had tried to ignore him. Had tried not to watch as he played peek-a-boo with a small child that was clinging to their exhausted mother. It wasn’t Benjamin’s fault. None of it.

“Mulder, can you please sit down? You’re making me dizzy.” She’d cut into Benjamin’s tale of his latest surgery and both men fell quiet. Mulder glared at her, standing frozen in place. Benjamin, who didn’t know her as well, swallowed hard.

“Fine.” This time through gritted teeth. He did sit down, his back to her and Benjamin, his eyes facing the wall. She briefly closed her eyes and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Benjamin,” a huff from Mulder followed, “please continue.”

And that’s what he did – what he’s still doing. Scully listens to him and has one eye on the snow falling outside the window. The cold crawls into her bones and she shivers. Benjamin is undeterred; he doesn’t know her long enough to notice that anything is wrong. Scully bites her lip, convinced it’s raw and chafed.

After Antarctica, her nightmares had been a flurry of white. Not once did she dream about being kidnapped, or being stuck in a block of ice. It was always the snow. Trying to run in it and her feet barely moving. In her nightmares, she cried out for Mulder, unable to reach him. The snow always swallowed him before she could grasp his hand.

“I’ve been talking so much about me,” Benjamin says, a soft drawl in his voice. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself and your work, Dana?”

“Dana,” Mulder – still staring at the naked, white wall – mumbles.

“Well,” she starts, drawing the word out while looking at Mulder. He, too, turns to her, but for once, she can’t read his expression. Long seconds follow. He gets up and she feels as if she’s just failed a test she’s studied hard for. She watches him leave the lobby, wondering where he’s going.

“Our job,” she tries again, her heart not in it. Her mind is on Mulder, needing to know what’s bothering him. “Would you please excuse me for a moment?” she says, not waiting for a reply before heading in the direction Mulder disappeared.

The motel is bigger than she imagined. She was right behind Mulder and now he’s disappeared. He wouldn’t be crazy enough to step out into the blizzard, would he? She shivers again. As a child, she used to love snow. Now, the mere thought of it makes her sick.

Scully is about to give up her Mulder search and return to the lobby. Her teeth are chattering and she wishes she had warmer clothes on her. She hears a sound that makes her stop. There’s a clang and muttering that sounds suspiciously like Mulder.

“Mulder?” she asks, rounding a corner. There he is. He’s banging his fist against an old, rusty vending machine. “What are you doing?”

“Where’s your new friend?” he replies in place of an answer.

“Presumably where I left him.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You were rude.”

“Well, I don’t like him.”

“Mulder, you don’t even know him.”

“Neither do you. I know the type and that’s enough.”

“Are you-,” but she trails off and finishes her sentence with a laugh. Mulder turns around to her.

“Am I what?”

“Jealous,” she says.

“Of a guy with several doctorates and perfect hair? Why would I be? Scully, am I cursed? The vending machine ate my money. It’s like when we- well, it happened before. Only then it was… there’s no bomb here, I checked. Still, that thing ate my money.”

“What did you want?” she asks gently. He’s quit for a long time, staring at the measly variety behind the glass.

“Wasn’t even for me,” he mumbles.

“What?”

He presses his finger against the glass.

“A cup of ramen?” He nods.

“I saw you shiver and I thought… I was looking for the kitchen and wanted to ask them for hot chocolate and somehow I got stuck here.” Warmth spreads through her and for the first time in a while, she doesn’t feel cold at all.

“I thought I’d at least get you hot ramen. Just something to warm you up.” He’s avoiding her eyes, but she wants to look him in the eyes, so she touches his chin.

“Thank you, Mulder.”

“It’s the snow, isn’t it? It makes you think about it. I feel the same.” They haven’t talked about Antarctica. Mulder has made the odd joke here and there, but other than that, they’ve tiptoed around it. She could have died.

They almost died together, right there in the snow. To this day, her memory is hazy on how they even made it out of there. Then there’s everything that happened before the snow. The hallway. The bee. The almost kiss.

Mulder bangs his fist against the vending machine one more time. Something inside shifts and they both listen to the telltale sound of something making its way through the workings of the machine. It lands with a soft thud and they exchange a look.

“That did not sound like a cup of ramen,” Mulder says and reaches into the opening. “It’s-”

“A Snickers,” Scully says with a chuckle.

“Maybe we can melt it over the fire and turn it into hot chocolate.”

“That’s the most disgusting thing I can imagine.” But at least Mulder is grinning at her.

“So, um, what if I did feel the way you thought I felt about Dr. Benjamin?” he asks, unwrapping the candy bar. He breaks it into two pieces and hands Scully the bigger one.

“I’d say it’s cute and that you have nothing to worry about because while I thought he was nice enough, I’m here with you sharing a Snickers.”

“I’m going to get you something hot, Scully. I promise.” She laughs softly.

“I remember what you said about the best way to regenerate body heat.” He stares at her open-mouthed, a piece of chocolate falling onto his sweater. “Too bad we don’t have sleeping bags.”

“We can fix this,” Mulder says quickly, “I know we can.”

“Maybe next time.” She can’t believe she’s winking at him, but his expression is worth it.

“You want the ramen, don’t you? To warm you up.”

“Or any kind of soup.”

“Come on,” he says, taking her hand into his. “There’s got to be a kitchen here somewhere. We’ll just flash our badges and get you some soup.” Their hands find each other and interlock as they walk together.

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 10 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You missed out on a lot of things when you lived in Chicago, because you didn't want to do them without Bradley. On a very important trip, you and he both visit the city together.

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears

Length: 1500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

Five Months Later...

"I can't believe we're willingly flying to Chicago in January," you complained with a bright smile on your face. 

"This was your idea, Sugar," Bradley reminded you, holding up both boarding passes for the airline gate agent to scan. "It's not too late to stay in Vegas or fly to Fiji like I originally wanted."

"No, no. We're going to Chicago together," you told him, taking his hand as you boarded your flight from Las Vegas to O'Hare. Bradley spun your rings around on your finger as you located your seats and settled in. 

"Chicago in January. Two days before a blizzard is due to arrive. Are we about to go on the shittiest honeymoon ever?" he asked, kissing your lips. 

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Listen, we just had Elvis marry us yesterday on the Vegas strip. We had a quickie wedding after being engaged for five weeks, and I'm not even pregnant. Now we're about to get snowed in together in Chicago. You'll be stuck in a room with me for a week. I don't think a conventional honeymoon is what we needed, Beer Boy."

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed. "Actually, now that you mention it, being snowed in with you sounds like a dream, Sugar. What am I even complaining about?"

"I don't know," you whispered against his scars. "You get me and Chicago deep dish pizza around the clock if you want it."

"I want it," he confirmed. "You can feed me pizza naked in bed after we have sex. And then I'll get hard again, we can have sex again, and you can feed me more pizza. It sounds like the perfect week. Chicago in January is everything I ever wanted."

You were shaking with silent laughter as the flight attendant went over the safety instructions, and soon you were in the air. And then you fell asleep on your husband's shoulder. Bradley jostled you awake in time to see the city all lit up against a snowy backdrop as the plane descended into Chicago. 

"Are you ready for this?" you asked, standing next to him with your bags, about to walk outside to get a taxi. "It's three degrees out there."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Bradley mumbled, but he looked scared. "No problem."

Once you and he were outside, he was practically crying as you took care of hailing a ride to the hotel. "You have thin Californian blood now," you told him as he snuggled up next to you in the back seat. You kissed his icy cold nose and forehead as you headed through the city where you lived for four years during grad school. "It's embarrassing, Bradley. I married a Californian."

He shivered in your arms and said, "We're both Virginians, Sugar. I just hate being cold."

You were playing with his hair and kissing along his ear as he melted into you. Every time you thought about the crazy juxtaposition that your life had become, you felt tears in your eyes. You had missed Bradley terribly when you were living in Chicago and still even after you graduated with your PhD. So it just felt right that he was here with you now.

"That's where I got my second tattoo," you whispered as the taxi drove slowly down a side street. 

Bradley looked out the window and smiled. "Should be a historic landmark."

Your laughter filled the small space as he kissed you. Then he paid the cab fare, and you had never seen him move as fast as he did when he hauled all of the luggage inside to the warm hotel lobby. 

"Let's go get a good night's sleep," you told him as he carried everything to the elevator and then into the hotel room. 

"We're not sleeping," he said, shaking his head. "You're going to snuggle with me until I'm warm again, which could take hours, and then I'm fucking you for the rest of the night."

He wasn't lying. You pulled him into bed with you, and held his body close, softly kissing him and telling him how happy you were. 

"I love you, Sugar. I loved you ten years ago, and I love you today, and I'll still be loving you ten years from now."

Slowly and meticulously, he undressed you beneath the blankets, touching and kissing each new bit of skin as it was exposed. He took extra time and gave extra attention to your tattoos, just like he always did. 

"I've been in love with you since the first time you wore my bathrobe," he told you before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts as you giggled. "No, before that. Since the first time I watched you put a bottle of beer to your perfect lips." He kissed his way up to your mouth, lingering there until you were sighing against him. 

"You've been in love with me since you met me then? Is that what you're trying to say, Beer Boy?"

He groaned as he slid his length inside you. "God, I fucking love it when you call me that. Every single time. And yes, Sugar, ever since I met you."

You made love to your husband all night, your hands and eyes roving over his body as you told him how happy you were that you both ended up at your class reunion in Virginia. That he was at the same bar as you that night last summer. 

When you both finally fell asleep, it was a long time before you woke up. Room service had already switched from breakfast to lunch, but Bradley got them to agree to send up a pot of coffee along with your lunch order. You and he ate all bundled up in bed together with the curtains open, the first flurries of snow falling outside as the storm moved in. 

"We need to head out soon so we can get back before it gets dark," you told him as he sipped his coffee. 

His expression looked unimpressed, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let's go, Sugar."

The taxi dropped you both off at the edge of the park as the sidewalks were getting slick from the snow. There were only a few people out and about, and even in the middle of the day, the sunlight was struggling to break through the heavy, gray clouds. Bradley had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you approached The Bean together. You stood side by side, examining if for a moment in silence. 

"It's just a big, metallic bean," you said, leaning into Bradley as the wind picked up.

"I knew it would be dumb as hell, Sugar," he replied, gesturing at it with his hand like there was no good explanation for what they were seeing.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and looked up at him as you started cracking up. "I'm glad I didn't see it without you. It was worth the wait."

"You were worth the wait. The Bean, maybe less so," he replied, kissing you as you took your phone out. 

After you took a bunch of selfies and texted some to Nat, you looked at Bradley and hummed. His cheeks were bright pink from the cold, and the tip of his nose was getting red. He was perfect, and he was all yours. 

"Have you given much thought to a little Bradshaw bean?" you asked as snowflakes stuck on his mustache. 

"Bradshaw bean?" he asked. His brow was creased before it started to smooth out. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Sugar?"

You nodded and kissed his pink cheek. "Yeah, Beer Boy. A little baby Bradshaw bean. Just something to think about."

Both of you thought about it and talked about it as you stood in front of the giant bean in the middle of a blizzard. But you didn't need to make all of your decisions right now. You weren't planning on being without Bradley ever again. 

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

THANK YOU for reading along on this adventure with me! Beer Boy/Man and Sugar belong together, and I'm happy she gets to take him to Chicago, even if it's during a blizzard! I hope you had as much fun as I did! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Please visit the one-shot The Grateful Dad for some more Beer Boy and Sugar!

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[specialagentlokitty]

Negan x reader - we’ll stay

The snow was blinding, freezing, and no matter how tightly you wrapped your blanket around you it wouldn’t do anything to help you.

You tripped slightly, stumbling a few steps into the man in front of you.

“Sorry…”

Negan slowed his steps slightly, walking alongside of you.

“You good?”

You gave a weak nod of your head, and he watched as you pulled your blanket a little closer to yourself.

Negan turned slightly, using his torso to stop the majority of the snow from hitting you and you glanced up at him.

“You’re being oddly nice…”

“Hey, if we’re gonna freeze to death out here may as well freeze be me first.”

You laughed slightly, shaking your head at him.

Negan grinned at you, looking ahead of him to make sure he wasn’t going to walk into anybody before turning his attention back to you.

You pulled your scarf up a little further.

With a small sigh, Negan took his blanket off, taking off a jacket and he took the one underneath off, holding it out to you.

He put his jacket on and took his blanket back.

“Go on.”

“Negan you need this, put it back on.”

“Yeah, you’re probably going to freeze before me, and since you’re the only fucker who even likes me at this point I can’t be letting you die.”

You smiled at him, passing him your blanket so you could put his larger jacket over yours and you took your blanket back.

“Plus what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t offer a stunnin’ lady like yourself my jacket?” He flirted.

“Yeah guess you’d be a bigger dick than you already are.”

His face twisted with mock hurt.

“Ouch, okay. I may have just saved your life.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. You’re fatass ego don’t need to be any bigger.”

Negan chuckled a little, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, placing his hand on your head, using his blanket to try stop the harsh weather hitting you.

“Judith!” Gabriel yelled.

Everybody stopped, and you and Negan spun around to watch her running away.

“Judith!” You both yelled.

Negan was the next to go, and you cursed quietly.

“Negan stop!” You shouted.

You shoved your blanket into the hands of whoever was behind you and sprinted after him, trying to find him.

“Negan?! Judith?!”

You spun around in a circle, looking around, looking at the ground to find their steps but you couldn’t even see your own.

“Negan?! Judith?!”

You tried to listen, but with wind roaring around you, snow coming at you from all directions it was impossible to make anything out.

Taking your scarf off you pulled both jackets around your nose, using the scary to hold them in place so you could try keep your face warm.

You pulled your sleeves down, putting your hands in your pockets as you carried on walking.

You should find shelter, but you had to find Negan and Judith to make sure they were both fine and safe.

But you didn’t know if you were going in the same direction, a different one, circling around again and again.

The blizzard was getting worse, you were shivering, and you were finding it harder and harder to walk, to breath it was that cold.

You dropped to your knees, lowering your head you pulled down the scarf and jackets, breathing in the freezing air.

It burned your lungs, and you pulled the jackets back up again.

Pushing yourself, you slowly began to walk, still trying to find the pair.

You couldn’t go on for much longer, your body couldn’t handle the freezing temperatures anymore.

Eventually your legs gave way, and you dropped to your knees.

“Judith…! Negan…!” You called weakly.

You hoped they would be nearby, but there’s no way they would have heard you.

Slowly you fell forward, shaky breaths wracking your body as you tried to keep moving.

“S..shit…” you whispered.

All you could do was listen to the sound of the wind around you, hiding your face in the jackets, covered your head with your arm in the hopes it would something.

Your eyes were fighting to stay open, and it was a loosing battle for sure.

You didn’t know how long you had been out there, if this storm was going to let out anytime soon.

It didn’t work, there was no winning this fight, even you knew that.

So, you stopped fighting, you closed your eyes and let the snow collect on your body, covering it, hiding it from anybody who might try find you.

As the storm rolled over, finally passing, daybreak came and Michonne and the others came home.

Everybody was playing in the snow and laughing, and Gabriel walked over with a serious look on his face.

“What is it?” Michonne asked.

“We’re missing (Y/N). She ran off after Negan to find him and Judith, she hadn’t returned Michonne.”

Everybody slowly stopped.

“You mean (Y/N) was still out here?” Daryl asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Get everybody that can look, move slowly and quickly, if she’s in the snow we don’t want to step on her.”

Negan looked at Siddiq who was treating his wound on his leg.

“Where’s (Y/N)?”

Siddiq didn’t say anything, but the look on his face said it all.

“No…”

Negan tried to get up but he was pushed back down.

“No! If she’s out there I have to find her!” Negan snapped.

“Everybody is looking, but the chances of survival out there all night are next to zero.”

Negan pushed him back and tried to get up, only for Michonne to stop him with her sword to his throat and he slowly laid back down.

“You’re staying here. We have everybody looking for (Y/N), and we will find her but even you know being out all night in that storm it doesn’t look good.”

Negan clenched his jaw, and he turned away, staring at the wall opposite him.

“Why pretend you care?”

Michonne walked around to stand in front of him, so he had to look at her and he did, his eyes locked with hers.

“Why?”

“Who the hell said I was pretending? I tried to go back out but those assholes wouldn’t let me.”

“Because you could run away!”

“You think I’d fucking run away in that?!”

They both went quiet and Michonne studied his face, his body language, the tone of his voice.

“(Y/N) is the only one who treated me like I was human, she is kind.”

“Shit… you really do care, don’t you?”

“Why the fuck do you think I want to go out there?”

Michonne sighed.

Walking over to a chair she sat down, looking at him and he looked at her.

They spoke, but went quiet when the door was slammed open, and you were rushed into the room, to bed opposite his.

“Is she alive?” Michonne asked.

Negan tried to get up but the look he was given made him stop again.

He looked at you, they pulled the cold jackets off you, tossing you aside to then covered you with blankets, trying to bring your temperature up.

“There’s a pulse, but it’s barely there.” Siddiq replied.

“If we can bring her temperature up we might have a better chance, the snow insulted some heat but not much.” Daryl said.

Negan could see your face now, you were so pale, your lips were tinged blue.

You really did look dead, well and truly dead and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“This room is too cold, we can’t heat it. We don’t have enough water either.” Gabriel said.

“Bring her here.” Negan said.

They all looked to him, and Daryl scoffed.

“As if. We’re not bringing her anywhere near you.”

“Look, I’m not going anywhere at I? She needs a constant steady source of heat or you’ll send her into shock and she’ll die! Is that what you want? You wanna kill her?”

They all went quiet, looking to Michonne for an answer on what to do.

This was her call, it was all up to you.

He was right, you need to be gradually warmed, and if they keep trying all these different ways then you would die.

“Do if, carefully, and only one blanket, we don’t want to send (Y/N) into shock.”

“You can’t be fuckin’ serious!” Daryl yelled.

“If we don’t (Y/N) will die! This is our best chance!” Michonne yelled back.

Gabriel and Siddiq carefully moved you over to Negans bed, rested your between his legs, your back on his chest, and they covered you up with a blanket.

“If you try anything…” Daryl warned.

With that, he left the room, and Michonne pointed her sword at Negan.

“Anything at all Negan, we will kill you.”

“I won’t.”

Michonne lowered her sword and they all walked away.

When they were gone Negan sighed, placing a hand on your forehead.

You were that cold that it made him slightly cold.

He pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, and rested his arm over your collar bone, his hand on your shoulder as he leant back.

“You’re a damn idiot…” he whispered.

He carefully sat up, peering down at you.

The colour still hadn’t returned to your skin, and he raised his hand that was resting on your shoulder to your neck, pressing it on your pulse point.

He could feel it faintly, and he lowered his head to your nose just to make sure that you were still breathing.

He couldn’t rest, every so often Negan would check your breathing and pulse, and he would let Siddiq check you over when he came by.

As night began to fall, Negan sat reading by a small light.

Negan had a book in one hand, his arm still draped over you, and his leg under yours.

Setting the book down so he could turn the page, Negan shuffled a little, wanting to stretch but not wanting to move you too much.

Siqqid came back, placing his hand on your head, and he studied you for a minute.

“She seems to be doing better, I’m going to move her back into her own bed.”

Negan snapped his head up, tightening his hold on your.

“Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“She needs her own space for when she wakes up.”

“She needs, and will stay here.” Negan said lowly.

Siqqid sighed, moving away.

He couldn’t fight Negan he knew that, even if Negan was hurt Negan will still knock him to the floor.

“If anything changes, if she gets worse come find me. She needs to drink this when she’s up.”

With that, Siqqid set a cup on the table and left, closing the door behind him.

Negan waited, and he slowly set his hook down.

He carefully moved you, resting your back on the bed, and he rolled to the side with a small grunt of pain, wrapping his arm around you, his hand on your hip while he rested his head on his other arm.

He just stared at you, studying your features, how peaceful you looked, the colour had slightly returned to your face, you felt warmer.

He was exhausted, all he wanted to do was sleep but he didn’t want to risk anything happening to you, so he stayed awake for as long as he could before exhaustion got the better of him.

You weren’t sure what made you wake up, but your eyes shot up and you took a few deep, shaky breaths as you stared at the ceiling.

You laid there for a few moments just staring straight up, letting your senses come back and give yourself time to figure out what happened.

“Negan… Judith…” you whispered.

You tried to pushed yourself up, but you didn’t have the strength, and you noticed something else was weighing you down.

Reaching for the blanket you tossed it aside, finding a hand resting on your stomach, a leg thrown over yours.

You turned your head, coming face to face with Negan whose eyes were open, watching you and he smiled slightly.

“Stay there.”

He covered you up and got up, walking to the table he grabbed he glass and sat next to you, helping you sit up so you could drink it.

He placed his hand to your forehead and gave a nod of approval.

Setting the glass on the floor he got back over the cover and laid down again, putting his leg back over yours, his hand going back to your head.

You slowly turned over, laying on your side, and he trailed his hand to the side of your face, tracing small circles.

“What the hell were you thinking…?” He whispered.

“You and Judith ran off… I had to find you…”

“Yeah, and you nearly fucking died in the process…”

You sighed a little, and he sighed back.

“Sorry… I’m sorry… I just… I swear I wanted to go find you…”

“It’s better you didn’t go out…”

Negan gave you a disapproving look.

“That’s not true, if I did maybe I coulda found you.”

“Or you’d be frozen too…”

He gave a small shrug, grinning a little bit at you.

He felt a shiver run through you and he pulled the blanket a little tighter around your body, moving a little closer so you were almost nose to nose with him.

“Idiot…”

You laughed softly, closing your eyes.

Negan closed his as well, and he felt your hands grip his shirt.

“I’ve got you…” he whispered.

“Negan…?”

You heard him hum, moving his head so that he could tuck your head under his chin.

“Stay…”

“I’m not going anywhere…” he whispered back.

You nodded, and Negan held you a little closer.

“You better stay too because if you don’t I’ll kick your ass.”

This made you laugh.

“Yeah.. yeah I’ll stay…”

“You better.” He chuckled