#It's so fucking cold no snow but ice is fucking everywhere

[putuponpercy]

Long hot water bottle my beloved

[tinylittlebab]

yay

[norrisleclercf1]

Thinking about arrogant doctor Charles who has been a dick lately but notices you overworked, overtired running on energy drink and about to lose it

A/N: Anon you're a god, this is also a way I can talk about ER Doc Charles since I've thrown my doc fic for him in the trash

"Seriously, can't even keep up." Dr. Leclerc or as you called him Dr. Devil scuffs ripping off his blood soaked gloves. "Bite me," You snap, trying to control your temper, all while reserving your energy.

4, 12 hour shifts back to back was rough, but the hospital was short staffed on nurses and you need the money. In a normal day you avoided being scheduled to work with Dr. Leclerc, and his need to be a dick.

It was bad enough he was arrogant, but had the skills to back it up, he was also being a major prick right now. "If you can't do your job, get the fuck out of my ER." He hisses writing down orders. "Your Er? I think you forget the nurses run the hospitals, not you arrogant self righteous, pricks." You seethe storming out of the room and slamming open the doors.

You needed air, you couldn't handle the beige walls and smell of chemicals anymore. The snow falling as you sit outside, not caring that your blood was running cold from the weather. Your lungs burn as you inhale the ice air. "Can't do this anymore." You whisper closing your eyes letting the night snow fall around you.

You don't know how it happened, all you knew was your eyes closing and then suddenly being shaken awake. Whining you blink hard, blinding light causing you to groan. "Thank fuck, you're not dead." You stop hearing the voice of Dr. Leclerc.

Turning your head you see him there, glasses on the tip of his nose and black scrubs wet. "What dumbass falls asleep in the fucking snow? Are you wanting to get pneumonia, or worse? Hypothermia? You're lucky I found your ass," He rips into you and you don't know why but the tears cloud your vision.

Dr. Leclerc freezes, unsure what to do. Groaning he stands up and folds his glasses and moves crouching to your level on the bed. "Please, don't cry, I don't know how to comfort you." He begs sounding so lost as his fingers tear through his hair making it stick up everywhere.

"Why are you so mean!" You yell, crying out of anger now. "Wha," "I mean, I try! I really do but I'm not a robot Dr. Leclerc! I've done 4, 12 hour shifts because nurses keep calling out! I've barely slept and all I've had to eat is energy drinks. SO I'm sorry!" You scream and cover your face full on sobbing now.

"Charles," He whispers and you turn angry now. "What?" You snap and Dr. Leclerc flinches. "My name, it's Charles. You still call me Dr. Leclerc, just, just call me Charles." He snaps and stands up putting his glasses back on. "Stay in here and sleep, and there's warm soup. Potatoe soap, warms the soul. And rolls. It's, it's whatever." He grumbles and fumbles around.

Opening the private room door, he stops. "You're right, nurses run the hospital. And, I need my best nurse not to die on me. So eat and sleep, be back in 4 hours." Charles walks out and you lay there and sit up glaring at the door. "I still hate your arrogant ass!"

[utterlyazriel]

whom the shadows sing for —(and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: eek not a request but an idea that wouldn't leave me alone! thus... we embark on a mulan-esque story that i hope u will enjoy <3 big thank you's to @strangerstilinski who listened and helped immensely as i whittled a hunky idea down to a plot

word count: 2.9k

synopsis: Someone in the Illryians Mountains has been making a name for themselves— a bastard like Azriel and his brothers, ruffling the feathers of a war camp's Lords. But they seem to have no loyalty to the fighting legion, or much to anyone for that matter. fem!reader

— CHAPTER ONE :: STRANGERS

Frost was everywhere.

Despite all the eerie memories that tainted them, the Illyrian Mountains were hauntingly beautiful, even Azriel could admit that.

Pine trees stretched up tall, their timber trunks hidden beneath the snow-leaden branches. It was a sea of swirling frost. Snowflakes eddied down from the frozen sky, a soft blanket of white draped across the landscape.

He was sure that some, maybe the likes of Feyre and her artist's eye, could see that beauty easier than he could.

Beautiful, Azriel thought bitterly, but fucking freezing.

Normally, dealing with the likes of the war camps that riddled these mountains was left to Cassian. He had that raucous, fiery way about him that was far better suited to it. Enough pride to challenge the warriors and more than enough eager attitude to back his taunts if need be.

But Cassian was currently very much occupied— and highly unsuited to crack the whip against some rowdy Illyrians in his current state.

Azriel couldn't help the smile at the thought of when he'd last seen his brother.

Freshly mated Cassian looked as though he had tiny hearts circling around his head at all times. He resembled a puppy following his nose, always that wicked grin on his face as he trailed after Nesta. His adoration was impossible to miss.

Cassian had more than earned the time off. He deserved to celebrate properly, to have a couple weeks with no badgering worries, with no bickering Illyrian warriors to deal with (beyond his usual two).

So, as a mating gift to his brother —and partially to escape a house filled with intolerably mated couples— Azriel had taken over his duty temporarily. To oversee the war camps he detested so much.

Today, he was to investigate the rumoured stirrings amongst the camps and assess the level of threat it posed. More often than not, these sorts of stirrings were simply whispers of rebellion but nothing more.

There was an easy fix; a visit from one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors in history, or even from Rhys himself. It always made the Illyrians a little nervous and those whispers of a coup would sweep away with the wind in a matter of time.

This time, however, the network of spies that operated under Azriel had not come back spinning such rumours.

Instead, there was talk of Lords with ruffled feathers. Lords with bruised egos due to a single bastard warrior, rising in the ranks and not playing by the rules.

The familiarity of the situation was almost too ironic, Azriel thought. He had half a mind to tell Rhys what he had learned and leave them to it. Cauldron knew these brutal camps needed a bastard to challenge their ways from time to time.

But still, there was always the potential for such a warrior to pose a threat in the future. Azriel could not leave a possible danger to brew. No stone left unturned.

The snow beneath his boots was beginning to melt.

He had been standing in the cold and peering up at the war camp ahead, barely seen through the heavy snow falling, for too long now. Snow was gathering on his wings, tendrils of ice shooting through their sensitive membrane. Find the bastard.

Shaking off the snow, he began to walk.

—

Gods forsaken males and their egos.

The bone in your forearm ached, having taken the brunt of your initial fall in the mud. It's covered in it too, the muck of the ground that always seemed to linger. Always a layer of dirt beneath your fingernails. Truly, one of the many incredible appeals of the Illyrian mountains was never actually being clean.

You'd probably hate it more— if it didn't do such a good job of masking unwanted scents.

But right now with a jagged cut that tears up your left arm, all the way to the elbow, you're cursing the mud. It's likely festering with uncountable grim diseases. You'll have to flush the wound to properly clean it before it begins to heal.

That means water. That means energy that you don't particularly feel like summoning to fetch it. You cast your glance to the window.

Outside, the Mother's Kiss howls loudly.

The southerly chilled wind current that Illyrians don such a precious name is quite fitting for their backward ways — to expect a kiss from your mother to have such a sting on the face.

Tonight, the current seems particularly fierce. The windows of your shelter rattle in warning. A storm had blown through camp rather unexpectedly and you'd caught the worst of it, tangled up in a snarling fest against Brudam.

Brudam, who is responsible for the current state of your arm. Your lip curls at the mere thought of the arrogant male. Your wings bunch up tightly and you huff quietly to nobody.

He'd caught wind of the broth you had made that had filled the stomach of three ravenous bastards in the camp. It had been just enough to keep them on their feet. Tonight, you know that one hot meal might very well be the difference that helps them survive the night.

But Illyrians are a tough breed— and they don't take kindly to people giving handouts, as Brudam had put it.

You preferred the term leveling the playing field.

As if Brudam and his Lord father had ever experienced to ache of starvation. Ever had to sleep in the snow with nothing but their own wings for warmth against a blizzard.

Another deep pain twinges in your arm and you hiss, drawn out of your thoughts. If you have to pick your wins, you can at least admit you're glad he had only found out about the broth— and had seemed none the wiser to the healing tonics you were slipping the freshly-clipped girls.

It ached to see them and their quivering wings. The way the muscles in their backs buckled when they tried to spread their wings, a cut too deep into the wrong nerve. It ached to see it, yes, but beneath that pain was an ocean of bitter and furious fire.

But your righteous anger would not help these girls.

You were not the most proficient healer and the tonics you were attempting... it was hard to say if they would make any difference in saving any females' wings.

You were gathering knowledge as best you could though, scraping together herbs that scarcely grew in the frozen climate. It was a poor imitation of something that might work.

Whether it would be enough... that was up to the Mother. But you had to try.

You assess the wound on your arm once more, wondering about the reserve of water you had in your small hut— whether you could both clean your wound and have enough to hydrate.

Another glance out at the wintry snowscape outside. You grimaced. If you didn't, you would have to bear the blistering chill of the Mother's Kiss to get more.

Weariness weighs on your bones. You hadn't been prepared for the fight, hence your almost embarrassing injury, and it drained you more than you expected.

You stand with a sigh and drag your feet toward the tiny cauldron filled with melted snow collected earlier in the day. It hangs over the fireplace, the embers within long since snuffed out. Your motion stirs them up.

For a moment, you stare into the fireplace. The water in the cauldron shimmers. The shelter creaks around you, bending in the wind.

It's covered in soot, marred by the flames that usually lick it from beneath it. The lip of it, however, is still clean enough to see your own reflection. You peer into it.

And in that reflection, you find a tall figure with massive wings looming above their shoulders standing behind you.

Your heart spasms in shock and you have to swallow your gasp of surprise. Your eyes dart up, frantically hunting for a weapon. You grab the closest object you can, your hand closing around a kitchen fork. And before they get the chance, you twist and lunge, arm raised.

The floorboards groan as your boots slam into them, darting forward to attack. But the male dodges you easily, your strike passing through empty air.

You don't stop, turning and striking for him once again. The male sways back again easily to avoid your swing and you scowl.

Quickly feigning one way, you watch as his hands, weaponless, move to defend his gut — and you change direction, fast. Neck exposed, you snarl as you sink the fork deep into his shoulder.

The male hisses in pain.

You falter for a moment at the noise but it's a mistake. His hands move so fast you barely see them, gripping your wrist that holds the fork and twisting it down to the ground, immobilising you from using it.

You snarl again and tug against him fruitlessly. A swell of panic begins to rise within you as you tug again, again, again. His hold doesn't falter.

"Stop," The male commands you quietly.

This time when you tug, he opens his fingers and you fly back onto your ass, wings flaring out a moment too late to catch yourself.

You expect him to trudge forward, to beat an attack down on you now that you're less defended, but he doesn't move from his spot.

In fact, you realise as you stare at him, cheat heaving, he hasn't attacked you at all.

His weapons, which there are many of them, stay strapped to his side, glittering against the snow's reflected light. You spot the siphon on his hand, a churning sapphire colour — and clock the matching one on his other hand.

This was not just any Illyrian warrior in your home.

Faintly, your panic subsides as you realise that if this male meant to hurt you —to kill you— he very well could have done so by now.

You let your eyes trail up, taking in the face so hidden in shadow, and recognize that the darkness swirling around him is not ordinary shadow.

The revelation has you sitting up a bit straighter, the bindings around your chest pulling tight. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

What do you say to one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors in history —one who served on Rhysand's inner circle, friend of the High Lord of the Night Court— when you've just stabbed him with a fork?

As if your thought had reminded him, the male —Azriel, you know his name to be— shifts and reaches for the utensil still sticking out of his shoulder. He yanks it out without a noise of complaint.

Then he says, "Considering your choice of weapon, it's no surprise Brudam cut up your arm."

You scowl at him but at a closer look, you can see that his expression isn't condescending. No, with his raised brows, he almost looks... impressed.

"I wasn't expecting visitors." You bite back defensively.

Azriel's eyes dance with amusement. He throws the fork onto your table with a clatter. "That's how you greet visitors?"

"Uninvited ones, yes."

His amusement fades, the planes of his face shadowed and yet still handsome. Like most Illyrians, there's this incomprehensible sense of elegance to him, an alluring pull tied to his very demeanor.

But looking at him now, even in the dimness of your shelter, you could see Azriel went beyond to type of beauty that usual Illyrians had. An unparalleled grace, an unmatched Adonis.

He is the most beautiful male you had ever seen—and you had just stabbed him with a fork.

"Sorry," You mutter eventually when he doesn't say anything.

You shift onto your knees to stand, your hand coming to cup beneath your elbow— the ache of the injury had begun to bleed back in now that you weren't focused on fighting off an intruder.

"You're forgiven." He says. You can see lightly, through the dimming light, the faint blood on his neck you've caused.

"You fight well," He comments, with the air of a compliment. Something like amusement is in his eyes when he says, "Even with your unusual choice of weapon."

You glare at him as you climb to your feet and all but collapse into a chair. You don't even have another to offer to him. Buried beneath your leathers, your chest aches in pain — a reminder that it's been bound for far too long. You ignore it and tilt your chin towards him.

"Why are you here?"

You're actually sure that even if you offered Azriel a chair he wouldn't take it, given how stiffly he stands before you. He takes a moment to answer, his gaze flitting around the small room you both stand in. Calculating, categorizing.

"There were rumours of a warrior turning up trouble here."

He fixes his hazel-eyed gaze on you. You steel yourself beneath it. "A couple days in your camp and it became clear who the outlier was."

A couple days? For some reason, you can't believe that he's been surveying this place without detection from anyone. Another glance at his shadows, the dark masses that hang around his shoulders, and you can believe it a little more.

Besides, it's hardly as though the Lords would deign to tell a bastard like you anything important.

You clench your jaw but don't say anything.

"Brudam mentioned you feeding some warriors." Azriel continues, his tone unreadable. Though something, you couldn't tell what, glittered in his eyes. "Not very in the spirit of Illyrians."

You scowl at him again. Even if he had once faced these conditions before, you wondered if his time away, spent Cauldron knows where, had softened his memory.

"It's not against any law."

"No, it isn't," Azriel says. His eyes narrow. "But making healing tonics without a Healer's jurisdiction and selling them to young females is."

Your heart stops for just a moment. How could he know that? The last batch you had dropped off had been over a month ago.

Without thinking you snarl back, "I'm not selling them, you prick."

Something blooms on Azriel's face, surprise and a hint of smugness.

Your mouth snaps shut as you realise what you've done. You curse yourself. Slumping back in your chair, your wings sag with you and you let them droop onto the floor, uncaring. He could very well be here to kill you, given the knowledge of what you had just admitted.

For a long moment, there's just silence.

You stare at the floor and wonder which version of the High Lord is true; the Court of Nightmares whose power ripples through these camps and keeps them in line. Or the rumours of a softer side, a dreamer.

You wonder, more importantly, which of those this male before you is friends with.

Something in the floor creaks when Azriel finally moves. He crosses the room swiftly to the fireplace and gathers two logs from the stack of firewood beside it, tossing them onto the pile of ash.

You watch, perturbed, as he hunches over the fireplace for a quiet minute— and when he pulls back, a small flame is burning on the wood. It dances on the log, entrancing and amber-coloured.

Heat begins to fill the room. You pick your wings up and stretch them towards it, grateful for how they begin to warm. You hadn't quite realised the extent of your chill until right now.

It's such a kindness that hasn't been shown to you in many years. Surprise and silent gratitude bloom in your chest.

Azriel turns back to face you. You school your surprise away.

"What's your name?" He asks, his voice gruff.

It's been a while since anyone asked that either. Bastard. Mongrel. Imposter. There are a thousand other words that have become your name whilst growing up here.

You can't tell him your name. In the same way you can't tell anyone here your real name without revealing too much about yourself.

So you shorten it and tell him that instead.

Azriel nods. Doesn't repeat it, doesn't blink at your hesitance. Instead, he just says, "Like I said, you fight well. You could be better though."

You frown at the backhanded compliment, something in you sneering at the jab at your fighting skills. Worse, you know he's right.

If you had weapons suited to your size, exercises that focused on your agility more than your brute strength... There's a good reason you have to work twice as hard as every other warrior in camp.

Azriel looks at your arm, no longer bleeding and beginning to stitch itself up. Shit, you really need to clean that first.

"Clean that and get a good night's rest." He orders, not meanly. Then he crosses the space of your shelter in a few paces of his long legs, heading for the door.

"You—" The question dares to come out of you. "You're not going to turn me in?"

Azriel pauses, one hand, one scarred hand you can now see with the fire going, on the door. So, the rumours of that were true.

"No," He says lowly. He sees you staring, and as if on command, the shadows swirling around his shoulders dart down to cover his hands. They and the doorknob in his hand disappear from sight completely.

You evade your eyes back up to his hauntingly beautiful face. His expression is stony, unreadable. He stares at you for a long moment, the dancing fire reflected in his hazel eyes.

"I'm going to train you."

[NEXT PART: ALLIES]

[atlafan]

Layna's never been so ravenous for her boyfriend. Which is shocking because there have been many times where she's felt more than desperate to have his body on hers, but this is something different entirely.

Normally, she doesn't like winter by the time February hits. The holidays are long since over, and the snow is less magical. There's black ice everywhere, and the air hurts her face. All that being said, she just found a new reason to like winter.

Sweater vests.

She had no idea Harry even owned them until she saw him wearing one at the latest showing at her gallery. He looked so handsome. All dressed up in a pair of slacks, loafers, sweater vest, and a long jacket. He hasn't exactly been dressing appropriately for winter, so when she sees him walk into the gallery, she feels like the wind has been knocked out of her. Layna is a professional, but she only has so much willpower when it comes to Harry. She's let him fuck her in the backseat of her car in the gym parking lot for fuck's sake.

They lock eyes from across the room. Layna takes out her phone and sends him a text. He raises an eyebrow when he sees her name lit up on his phone.

You're mean

how am I mean?

You look too good

not sry

Bet you're wearing that nice cologne I like so much too

u bet ur🍑

need you

ur werking

come to my office, no one will notice if I slip away for a few minutes

bet

Harry shoves his phone into his jacket pocket and makes his way to Layna's office. It's in such a private area, she's not worried about being caught. Besides, the gallery sold out. Her work is essentially done for the night.

So, that's how Layna ended up clutching at Harry's chest with her leg up over his hip, pressed up against the door of her office on a work night. His lips are on her neck, sucking on her like a leech as her fucks her with his fingers. Her fingers twirl in the material of the vest and she's doing her best not to make too much noise. Her lips are going to be incredibly swollen by the time they're done. She's panting and near convulsing in his arms. Her fingers move up to his hair to rug on. It's finally grown out to a length where she can actually tug on it again. He moans into her neck and pushes her harder up against the door. One of his hands presses flat against it by her head, and she can't help but whimper as she looks at his pulsing veins and rings.

"Shit, I'm gonna make a mess." She gasps when she feels Harry's fingers fucking shallowly into her while his thumb rubs her clit. "I don't want to ruin your pants."

Harry pulls away and looks at her before sinking to his knees and wrapping his lips around her clit as he continues to fuck her with his fingers. Her hands fly right back to his hair. She nearly loses her balance, but Harry keeps her stead, placing one of her legs over his shoulder. He looks up at her and smirks, and that's when she loses it. She lets out a loud cry of his name as he laps away at her juices. He drags her panties back up when he's done and stands up slowly as he runs his hands up her body. He cups her jaw and licks into her mouth. She melts into him.

"I knew you'd like this outfit." He smirks. "Daddy cleans up real good when he wants to, hm?"

"You mean you did this to me on purpose?" She pouts.

"Payback for all your relentless teasing the last few weeks."

"You can't tell me that wearing shorts in the freezing cold doesn't look funny." She scoffs. "Besides, thought we made up from all of that."

"We did." He nods, squeezing her hips. "But I couldn't resist making you sweat."

"Well, you succeeded, and then some. Let me-"

"Nope." He steps back from her. "You can wait until we get home. I'm gonna shove my dick so far down your throat you'll be gagging all over it, and it'll ruin your pretty makeup. You're working, Layna. Compose yourself and be professional." He moves her, she's too stunned to speak. He wacks her ass before leaving the office.

A shiver runs up her spine. How much longer does she have to stay at work for?

NO COMPLAINTS BLURB

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Ice & Rain

Requested: No

Warnings: Injury via slipping on ice (no blood), child in pain and injured

Summary: Your and Simon’s daughter takes a nasty fall on some ice.

A/N: I mentioned it in the story but Asa (the daughter) is adopted to give me the ability to keep Reader GN so she has a preset look, described with brown hair and pale skin. This does NOT reflect anything about the Reader’s looks.

Something was wrong. You could feel it. From the second you woke up at a little after seven, you felt ill. Sick to your stomach, a feeling of dread making you twitch and turn, trying to find the source of whatever was disturbing you, only to come up with nothing.

“Are you sure she was alright before she left?” You asked, scratching at your wrist anxiously. ‘She’ being your daughter of 14, Asa, who had already been sent off to school on her bus before you had woken up. A quiet and clingy girl, usually seen clutching onto either your or your husband’s shirts when in public, slow to talk but incredibly sweet. It got a bit frustrating at times, you couldn’t lie, but she was a good girl and you wouldn’t trade her for the world. You remembered the day you adopted her like it was yesterday. How tiny she was in your arms. The tears you cried.

“For the millionth time, Love. Yes, she was just fine.” Simon says with a sigh, wrapping his arms around you from behind, his lips pressing against the back of your neck, an effort to soothe you, all in vain.

“Okay. I believe you.” You say, taking a deep breath, trying to brush aside all the ‘what if’s’ that bounced around in your brain. “She’s okay. She’s perfectly fine and at school. Probably asleep at her desk again.”

“Probably.” Simon hummed, holding you a bit tighter. You wondered idly if he was also a bit worried. If he had also started off that way, or if your own fear had sparked his own.

You took another breath, opening the curtains of one of the front facing windows, deciding that some fresh air would do you some good, even if it was cold out. As you did so, you caught a glimpse of some strange shape in the middle of the still dark walkway, halfway between your house and the road. Had she forgotten her backpack again? Not unusual. She tended to put things down-

The shape moved.

It was just a twitch, almost unnoticeable but your blood ran cold, like ice in your veins as you shook yourself from free Simon’s grasp, not bothering to put on shoes or a coat as you took the stairs two at a time, only vaguely aware of your husband calling after you.

When you burst through the door, there she was, her voice suddenly so clean to you. Wails of pain, broken only by sobs and loud cries of “Daddy” that only served to break your heart.

You heard a loud “fuck!” from behind you but you paid it no attention, scrambling through the snow to the pathway, almost slipping and busting your ass when you realized that there was ice everywhere. Was this why she was here? Had she fallen on her way to the bus? How had they not noticed her? How did you not hear her?

You fell to your knees beside your daughter, hands hovering around her as she cried, the soft pattering of rain beating down on the back of your head.

“Oh baby. Oh sweet girl, it’s okay.” You try to tell her, your voice cracking, tears brimming in your eyes as you cup her face, biting your lip when she only cried harder. She couldn’t seem to actually speak, only able to call for you and Simon, small hands clutching at your night shirt.

Simon was beside you but you barely even noticed, not until Asa shouted with pain, so loud that it hurt your ears, the sound echoing in your brain, sure to haunt your nightmares tonight.

“Shh shhhh, Little Love. I got you.” Simon cooed to her, his voice strained but infinitely calmer than yours as he continued sliding his arm under her lower back, nudging you out of the way so he could get his other one under his shoulders. “I got you. It’s okay. I know it hurts but we need to get you out of this cold.”

“Simon.” You whimpered, shaking as you tried to stand with him, bare feet not even feeling the cold as adrenaline pumped through you. “Oh baby.” You said, holding your daughter’s freezing hand, changing for any discoloration at the fingertips. She’d been out here at least half an hour.

“It’s okay, Love. Get her bag, yeah?” He says, motioning to Asa’s small pink backpack that lay beside where she had fallen. You picked it up silently, right behind Simon as he carried your sobbing child into the house, not even a hint of strain on his face as he tried to maneuver over the ice carefully, back up to the door. You shut it behind yourself as he laid Asa on the couch, big hands trying to help her out of her thick winter coat without causing her too much pain.

Your hands shook as you placed Asa’s bag at the foot of the couch, kneeling beside her as she sniffled, taking her hands in your and huffing hot air into them, trying to warm her up a bit.

“There we go, Little Love.” Simon whispered to her once her coat and shoes were off, brushing strands of thick brown hair out of her face, cupping her cheek sweetly. “I’m gonna get you some tea and meds, yeah? Somethin to help with the pain. And you just get some rest.”

Asa nodded weakly, soothed by his warm voice as he slowly stood, motioning you up to follow him. You did so, though it hurt your heart to look back and see her just watching you go, pale face bright red from the cold and her tears.

“We should-we should take her to the hospital.” You say, inhaling deeply as he scrub your eyes, trying to calm yourself down as Simon filled the kettle and turned on the stove.

“She fell, Love. She’s okay. Probably just sprained something. She’ll be better in a few days.” He tells you, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“You can’t be-”

“I was in the field for a lot of years, Love. Seen a lot of injuries. This was just a slip.” He says, reaching up to grab the teabags, the sweet fruity ones that your little girl preferred. “She’ll be just fine.”

You nodded against your better judgment. Simon was right, she’d be just fine.

Asa would be just fine.

[palioom]

sweet, sweet icing

summary: dieter is decorating the cookies you baked with a very special kind of icing

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader word count: 2.0k warnings:18+ content; no use of y/n ; baking; oral (m receiving); cum eating; established relationship; facial (not the beauty kind)

a/n: the first of my little "kinkmas" collection - one christmas/winter themed fic for every advent

• masterlist •

It was chilly out, the wind whirling snow up against the frosty windows, howling as it passed by. People dressed in thick layers were hurrying home to get out of the icy cold, illuminated by the beautiful lights placed throughout the city.

A world so unlike their apartment - warm and cozy, full of string lights and silly little Christmas decorations. Reindeers and Santas and glowing stars hanging from the ceiling, almost seeming like a wonderland of some sort.

The smell of freshly baked cookies hung in the air, wafting into every room from the kitchen where the still warm cookies laid on the countertops, ready to be decorated.

It had been her doing, taking all morning to prepare the dough, using all kinds of different cookie cutter forms to shape them before finally baking them. She loved the baking part, enjoying the silence in the kitchen while Dieter still slept. He would only try to eat the dough and mess with her otherwise – she had learned that really quickly the first few times she had tried to bake with him present.

But Dieter loved decorating cookies. They always ended up looking like an LSD trip gone wrong, as well as less than family friendly sometimes, but he really enjoyed doing it. It was an outlet for his creative side and even though there were less cookies than before he had entered the kitchen, she gave him full reign over it.

Like now, hearing him hum along to some music before it was cut off by a brief laugh, while she sat on the sofa, hot chocolate warming her hands, just watching some random Christmas movie. She would go and keep him company, but the mess he created just annoyed her, preferring to see the finished results once he had cleaned up.

Because when Dieter decorated anything in the kitchen it tended to go just like when he was painting – colour everywhere, spilled icing turning the kitchen counters into a sticky nightmare that all the other chocolate chips and sprinkles and sugary forms clung to. 

So, exactly what one would expect of Dieter.

Behind her, she could hear some grunting coming from him, but she ignored it. Figuring he was doing God knows what. Maybe picking up some things he’d knocked over or searching some cabinets for more things to slather onto the baked goods.

She couldn’t wait to see what he had done this time around and she wished she had taken just one cookie for herself before retreating onto the sofa. Oh well, her hot chocolate would do for now.

Eventually, the noise behind her completely vanished as she concentrated on the movie, barely noticing when Dieter appeared in the living room.

“Babe, they’re done.” His voice pulled her away from the TV, eyes flying over to where he was walking towards her. Baggy shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, the area around the belly stained with all sorts of colourful things. She was sure that his loose pants also bore some marks of his wild adventures in the kitchen, but she couldn’t really see on the already wild pattern. The underside of his nose was dusted with powder, and she really hoped it was anything but coke. “They’re so fucking good.”

She laughed, eyeing the colourful cookies on the plate he held in one hand, looking just like she had expected them to. They were crazy, for the lack of a better term, but not messy. There was a certain method to how Dieter worked, both on set and when being creative here at home, and decorating cookies was no exception.

To a new eye, the weird shapes on some seemed random and applied without care – colourful swirls and zig zags and dots, seemingly random colours drawn onto the shapes of Santa and Christmas trees and reindeers.

But she could recognize some patterns, like from his pants or previous paintings he had made while high as a kite. She swore she could even see some shapes in them, objects that got lost in the assault of colours.

Or maybe she had just lost her mind after spending so much time with him.

There were a few remarkably plain ones, too. Just all green or all white, no sprinkles or anything else added to them.

“They look awesome, Dee!” She said, taking one cookie in the form of a star, drowning in orange and yellow swirls. 

He looked like a little kid as she took a bite, all excited, biting his bottom lip in anticipation. Maybe he was a little too excited, making her laugh after she finished the cookie.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

With his dishevelled hair and the sheepish grin, it almost looked like he had been up to something. 

Did she even want to know what it was?

Maybe he had completely ruined the countertops this year? The floor? Or maybe even the ceiling?

She remembered one year where he had somehow managed to cover the kitchen ceiling in colourful specks.

“Just excited for you to try ‘em!” Dieter said, taking a plain white one, holding it out to her. Looking so sweet, yet naughty. “Take this one.”

She sighed, shaking her head with a laugh. “I want one of those with sprinkles.”

The plain one would just be boring icing, and she really had her eyes on the ones littered with sprinkles. Or the ones where Santa had his pants down, complete with a tiny dick drawn onto it.

Who else was gonna come up with this other than him?

“Nah, this one first, babe.”

Relenting, she leaned forward to take a bite from the cookie he still held out to her. Expecting more of the sugary taste of the icing, but finding no sweet taste, beside the cookie itself.

In fact, it tasted rather… salty.

Dieter’s eyes glinted mischievously as her eyes shot up and found his, widening just slightly as it dawned on her.

He hadn’t seriously-? No, he couldn’t have.

The noises made sense now. All the grunting and giggling.

“Dieter?” She asked with a small laugh, her hand coming up to her mouth as she chewed. He really looked like a kid that had done something really bad which he found joy in regardless. “Oh my God, are you serious?”

Dieter laughed too now, deep and warm, shrugging his shoulders with that same sheepish smile on his face still.. 

“Surprise flavor, babe.”

Yeah, he absolutely was serious. The idea had come to him after he had actually spilled some of the icing over the counter, watching it drip down onto the floor, it really had taken his mind elsewhere.

Elsewhere being the mental image of his cum trickling out of her fucked out pussy, his cock twitching at the thought. To be fair, he had tried to resist the mental image for a while, cleaning up what he had spilled before he continued drawing onto the cookies.

But his dick ached and the thought of jerking off onto some of these pretty little shapes before feeding them to her just wouldn’t leave him alone.

So, he had done it. The mental image of her eating them was enough to make him feel hot, then he thought about getting caught doing it by her. Biting his fist so he wouldn’t be too loud and make her suspicious, he came all over a few of the sweet treats in almost record time, quietly laughing.

To his surprise, she ate the second half too, grinning around it as she did.

“You got any more of that icing?” She asked, and just the tone of her voice made his dick twitch again. Her hands wandered below the hem of his baggy t-shirt, nails lightly scratching over the soft skin of his belly before finding the waistband of his pants.

Now this he hadn’t expected.

“Mhmm, I don’t know, baby.” Dieter said, putting down the plate of cookies onto the table next to him. “Wasted it all to make these for you, but maybe I have some left just for you.”

She giggled, biting her bottom lip as her thumbs hooked into the band of his pants and pulled them down to reveal his still soft dick. Of course he wasn’t wearing any underwear at home.

Easy access, he called it.

Scooting closer to the edge of the sofa, she ducked her head, sucking one of Dieter’s heavy balls into her mouth, hearing his breath hitch above her. One of her hands wrapped around his dick, slowly hardening in her palm as she played with his balls.

Dieter’s fingers curled into her hair, holding it back in a makeshift ponytail, watching in fascination as she licked and sucked at them with a low hum, grinning when her eyes found his.

This definitely was a better outcome than what he had imagined – having her laugh at his prank before getting mad that the kitchen looked like an absolute fucking mess. 

Not getting him hard so she could suck his dick.

“You really like that icing, huh?” He asked with a lopsided smirk, watching how she took his half hard cock into her mouth while her hands continued to fondle his balls. 

She nodded, getting wet at the feeling of him hardening in her mouth. 

“Gonna be my own personal cookie to decorate?” Dieter asked, his hips rutting forward. Her mouth just felt too good, her tongue swirling around the head and sucking on it. “Fuck, you’re sweet like one.”

A short laugh left her before she took more of him into her mouth. “Yeah, gonna be your cookie, wanna be dripping in your icing.”

Dieter laughed, too, his hips canting up in time with the bobbing of her head, his groans becoming louder as he thought about his cum all over her face. Thick, white streaks painting her cheeks and lips.

Practically begging for it with those pretty eyes, he was unable to drag this out particularly long.

No, he had to decorate just one more.

“Gonna make you look like a cinnamon roll.” He rasped, his hips speeding up and seeing her become more frantic. “All sticky and sweet and, fuck-”

Spit dribbled down her chin as her lips released him with a small pop, her hands now wrapping around his slick length and pumping him. There was that lip bite again, stroking him right over her face with those eyes that just challenged him to cum all over her.

“C’mon, Dieter, I need your icing.” She whined, her brows knitting together in desperation as her hands worked him faster. “Please, baby. We can make some cream pie after, too.”

Oh, fuck.

Her words pushed him right over the edge, a whiny sound crawling up his throat as his cum shot all over her face and waiting tongue. Rope after rope, all while she kept stroking him to get to every last drop with a low, approving hum.

Sucking the tip into her mouth again after, just to make sure that she got all of the icing he had to spare, even when her tongue on his soft head threatened to overstimulate him.

“My favourite kind of icing.” She giggled, licking her lips before smacking them. The way Dieter looked down at her was both adorable and hot, almost like he was a kid that just got the best gift ever. “I’m so happy you still had some left for me, Dee.”

Snapping out of his trance of admiring his decorating work, he laughed, bending down to kiss her. Stealing all the air from her, based on her breathy laugh as he pushed her back onto the sofa, crawling over her.

Not minding the mess at all.

“Now I’m really interested in that cream pie.” He groaned as his tongue slipped against hers, tasting both the cookie and his cum on it. “Let me help with that.”

Her laughter turned into a moan as his thick fingers wandered into her sweatpants, all muffled by his mouth.

Baking definitely was her thing, just as decorating the goods was his.

There was no better way to get into the Christmas spirit than this.

[discopaddock]

SNOW, SNOW, SNOW - PIERRE GASLY

PAIRING: single dad!pierre gasly x polish!fem!reader

GENRE: angst

WORD COUNT: 2380

NOTE: im back finally!! sorry for absence yall i just had a lot of school and i was on a school trip so i wasnt using phone too much. hope you like this one, x.

WARNINGS: burn, missing child, my english, google translated french

If Y/N L/N had haters, Pierre Gasly was one of them. If she had only one hater, it was him. And if she had zero haters, that meant that Pierre Gasly was dead.

Y/N had no idea why Pierre didn't like her so much. If there was something which happened and it didn't have a good outcome, he would always blame her from their whole group.

And because of his father, Claude Gasly didn't like Y/N either. He was Pierre's mini-me so of course he was acting the same as his father.

I guess it was the 2023 winter break, when Y/N, Pierre, Claude, Max, Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo, Lando, Yuki and their girlfriends were together in the Alps and the little guy got lost in the woods, but I'll tell you about it later.

“Enzo, none of them like me so why should I share a room with them?” Y/N asked, when she heard that she was going to be roommates with the Gaslys.

“Come off it-”

“I'm fucking not, for fucks sake, I don't want to share room with them, they are going to kill me and I am fucking serious at this moment” she announced, making Lorenzo, Charles and Max laugh. “I can even sleep on the couch, just not with them,” she added, but then Max said that he can share the room with Pierre and his son, but she would have to share the room with Lando.

She had never felt so thankful in her life before.

Sure, Lando was pretty disgusting, but he was better than the Gaslys, who hated her.

“Hey, hey wait! Y/N!” Verstappen yelled to her, watching as she was running upstairs with her huge suitcase.

“Hey Lando! Guess what, we're sharing a room” the girl said, after entering the bedroom, where Norris was sitting on his bed, which was the one against the window.

“Oh, okay?” He said a little confused, but he didn't mind. He was actually best friends with Y/N, so he was happy about it.

“So um yeah, bye Lando” Max announced after taking his valise and he left the room.

And then the Gaslys had arrived. Claude was an energetic boy. He was full everywhere. And as I said, he was his father's mini-me, so he looked exactly like him; the same ice-blue eyes, brunette hair, a gap between the teeth. As if you did copy paste in real life.

And Pierre liked to have matching clothes with his son, so it was even more copy paste in real life.

And again as I said, Claude was really energetic. And because of that just after taking off his winter clothes and shoes, he ran to his, Pierre's and Max's bedroom, not looking around, so he collapsed with Y/N, who was carrying a mug with a hot tea. This story for little Gasly had a happy ending, unlike L/N, who burned herself with the tea and broke her favourite mug.

“Kurwa mać” she cursed in her native language with teary eyes and a red hand. She quickly picked off parts of the mug and ran to the kitchen and put her hand into cold water. “I'll clean it up in a moment!” she announced but Colette, who saw the whole incident calmed her down, saying that she would do it for her. Fucking hell

“Do you need anything?” Augustin asked, after she entered the kitchen and saw Polishgirl, who still had her hand in the water. “Could you bring me my makeup bag? I have ointment for burns and frostbite in it” Y/N answered and Colette only smiled, nodded her head and went to the room of L/N and Norris.

“How bad does it hurt?” Lando asked, when he entered the kitchen with Y/N's makeup bag.

“Really bad? I guess” the girl answered, wiping her hand with a paper towel. “I don't have any bandages, damn it” she announced, rummaging through the makeup bag.

“Lorenzo's must-have” and with that, Lando ran to the eldest Leclerc's bedroom. “Enzo said if your hand won't stop hurting at night, he will drive you to the hospital,” Norris announced, putting the bandage on his friend's hand. The girl nodded. Her hand was hurting like hell, but she was hoping that she wouldn't have to go to the hospital.

“Fuck, I don't have any mug now” she said after a moment of realization. “I need to go to the town” she said and started walking to their room. Lando followed her, saying that he could go with her. “Be careful with your hand” the boy said, which made the girl roll her eyes. They were almost ready to go, when someone knocked on the door. “Come in!”

“Y/N, I know someone that wants to tell you something” Collette announced after walking to the bedroom. The little boy stood in front of the Polishgirl and mumbled: “Je suis désolé d'être tombé sur toi” I'm sorry I ran into you

“Je ne suis pas en colère, mais fais plus attention la prochaine fois, d'accord?” she answered, crouching, so she could look at Claude's face. I'm not mad, but be more careful next time, okay?

“Je suis désolé pour ta tasse” the boy added. I'm sorry about your mug

He actually felt sorry for that situation.

Sure, he didn't like Y/N, because of his dad, but still she was always kind and nice to him and it was his fault that all of this happened.

“Je ne suis pas en colère, ne t'inquiète pas” she said with a smile on her face and Claude hugged her. L/N had no idea what to do. After a while she hugged him back and because of that, he gripped her even tighter. I'm not angry, don't worry

Finally the boy moved away from her, so she could go with Lando.

“Bye!” the boy waved at them, so did Colette, who had a warm smile on her face.

“I don't remember if little Gasly had ever treated you like this” Norris said, when they finally sat in the girl's car.

“Same, Lando. Like I- fuck, he never liked me” Y/N announced. “Like his dad. Because they act the same but you know. I didn't even think that he would apologise to me”

“Yes, yes, same. Like he never wanted to play with you when we were hanging out, he was just mean to you like Pierre” Lando agreed with her.

“Do you know why Pierre doesn't like me so bad? Because for four years since I met him he always treated me like shit and never told me why” she asked, but her best friend didn't know.

“Since Claude was born he became really protective over him. So maybe it's because he didn't know you before C was born? Like he considered you as an enemy because he thought that you would hurt his beloved son? Like the female defends her young” Lando explained and the girl had no choice but to shrug.

“I don't want to think about them, just let me buy a new mug” Y/N said and got out of the car, so did her best friend.

They came back to the house after two hours, because they also went to the bookstore just to watch some books because they felt the vibe.

“You two were on a date or something?” Charles asked when they entered the living room.

“Who knows?” Lando moved his eyebrows in a suggestive way with a smile on his face. Y/N only shook her head, also smiling.

“Good luck on your new way of life!” Yuki yelled at them, when they were walking to the kitchen. Everyone laughed.

Well, everyone except Pierre who shook his head with a disgusted look. How old were they? 5?

“Oh, Pedro, stop being so boring,” Yuki told his best friend.

“You act like you were five,” Gasly said, which made Yuki laugh even more.

“Why are you laughing?” asked Claude, who just woke up from his nap. His English was broken but as a six year old bilingual boy it was really good.

“Because of your dad, C” Tsunoda answered, sitting the boy on his lap. “He's really jealous, you know” Yuki whispered to the little brunette boy's ear.

“Why is he jealous?” Claude asked, also whispering. “Y/N and Lando,” the Japaneseman answered quickly and quietly.

Well, yes, Pierre was jealous about Y/N and Lando. He was jealous of their relationship. In his opinion, they were together, like they were dating and did all that stuff, which people in love do and he used to do, when he was in a relationship with C's mother, Héloïse.

He was also jealous because he didn't spend as much time with Lando as they used to before the Brit-Belgianman met the Polish Girl during her Erasmus in France.

Plus, Y/N was really attractive, like she had catched a lot of women's or men's eyes, so did he. He wanted to date her actually, but he was at lost point; he fucked up at beginning of their acquaintance.

So Pierre thought that there was no other option, than just pissing her off for the rest of their lives.

On the next day, the whole group went skiing. Some of them like Lando and Arthur were snowboarding also.

It was a fun day. It was the only time when Y/N liked being in the mountains the whole year. Because she was a sea person (just like Pierre).

At twelve, they went to eat lunch. L/N was sitting with Norris, Charles and Colette at the table, while Pierre and the rest were sitting at the other one. It was only because the big table where Pierre was sitting was too small to accommodate them all.

After lunch they went for a walk in the woods. It was fun, relaxing and the trees were looking amazing covered with the white snow.

Everything seemed to be a dream until Pierre realised that he lost his son. They were at the car park, when Gasly realised it.

“No Pierre, you're staying here with Yuki, you're panicking and you won't be helpful in this condition” Lorenzo said, looking into the Frenchman's eyes.

“We should start looking for him as quickly as possible, let's go” Y/N said and ran into the woods, so did Lando, Arthur, Carla, Max, Gabby, Charles, Colette and Lorenzo.

“They'll find him, don't worry” Yuki tried to calm down his best friend, who was crying.

“I fucking lost my son, I'm a horrible father” Gasly scoffed and rested his head against the car seat.

“No, you're not! You raise him on your own, he doesn't have a mother, so you have to be both for him and you are doing it really well. And it is common that kids are lost, when they are small like C” Tsunoda handed the brunette man a tissue, so he could wipe his tears.

“Yes, but in markets not in woods!” Pierre cried out. “I'm so awful. Like fuck, I treated Y/N like shit for these four years and now she was the first person to ran into the woods to look for my son. That fucking hilarious!” he said.

“You should apologise to her” Yuki announced, which made the other man take a deep breath before he started talking again.

“It's too late”

“No, it's not! Y/N is the kindest person I've ever met. Like if you tell her the whole truth that you like her in this romantic way, she will definitely forgive you” the man announced.

“Yeah and that's the problem. I'm grumpy and she is sunshine. I won't tell her that. She doesn't like me back. She's dating Lando” Pierre said.

“You're such an idiot, they're just friends”

And while Yuki was giving Pierre a lesson about Y/N, she was running in the woods just to find the little Gasly. It was getting dark so she was worrying even more about the little boy.

“Claude!” she knew that she shouldn't scream in the woods, but what could she do? She repeated the boy's name a few times, walking deeper into the wood. “Claude!” she yelled again and she was losing her hope, but then she heard a small voice on the left. She quickly ran there and found little Gasly, who was sitting under a tree with blue lips and red hands.

“Oh, Claude” she said and picked him up from the ground. The boy only hugged her and covered his head in her neck. The girl pulled gloves from her jacket pocket and gave it to Gasly to wear them.

She was terrified of his condition.

“I want Papa,” he cried. He was hungry, terrified and frozen. “I know, you'll meet him in a moment, I promise” she announced and kissed his head. “I was chasing a squirrel and then no-one was around” he said, which broke Y/N's heart. He was only six years old and it definitely was a huge trauma for him. “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you” she told him. “I think I know why my papa thinks you're pretty,” Claude whispered. “I heard when he was talking about you with Yuki in our living room. I think he likes you, but he doesn't know how to tell you” he added.

Y/N was shocked.

Pierre fucking Gasly was thinking that she was pretty.

“Do you like my papa too?” the boy asked and Y/N had no idea how to answer him.

“Well, he's nice” she only stuttered and started walking faster. It was already dark and she was worried that she would get lost too.

“We're here, Claude” she announced when they were ten metres from the whole group.

Y/N was the last person to show up (as always).

“Is Papa here?” little Gasly asked, but the girl didn't answer him, because both of them were hugged by no-one other than Pierre. “Papa!” Little Gasly gasped after he recognised his father by his smell.

“Je suis tellement désolé, Claude” the man said. “Et merci, Y/N, merci beaucoup” he added. I'm so sorry, Claude. And thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.

The talk with Yuki gave him a lot to think about himself, her and how he treated her and how he wanted to treat her.

[makos-hotbox]

I need the classic "freezing on a mission so we have to warm up by cuddling" with ghost or könig and fem reader honestly I can't pick when it comes to these to so you get to 💀

Maybe reader falls into a lake by accident so she's extra cold, but it is snowing so that doesn't help on bit.

Bonus if she gets sick and now they have to take care of her <3

LARGE FONT VER. (coming soon)

… 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄

`⌁ ◜ 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫… 𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞! ◞

Quick and smooth.

That’s how all missions with König were. The two of you had always been the perfect duo for in and out situations. König’s sniping skills were remarkable. Paired with your quick feet and close combat skills? Where there was one, the other was close by. König would stay back and shoot down any straggling enemies while you speed through the compound in search of your target with your K9 in the lead.

Just like you are now. Cold winter air biting at your skin and freezing your lungs. You thanked yourself for deciding to wear the spiked boots this time. The layer of ice on top of the concrete you were running on would have definitely screwed you over if you wore your normal shoes.

“All targets down back here. I’ll start following you.” König’s hushed voice came over the earpiece. You didn’t answer, but none was needed. König knew where you were, and he wouldn’t want you talking and bringing attention on accident. Your job was to be stealthful, get in and out in one piece.

The snow that had made it way into your uniform had melted, leaving you a bit damp under all those layers that were meant to keep said snow out. It was already enough to make you feel gross and uncomfortable, giving you all the more reason to hurry up with this execution. Turning a corner, you finally caught eyes on your target.

He was alone, unaware that all his men had already been taken care of. He thinks he’s safe. Reading up on his history and file made you sick. No man like him should feel safe knowing he’s murdered tons of innocents. With a loud whistle, you sent your dog to go ahead and grab him.

Over the screams and begs for mercy, there was finally an opening for you to sink your knife into his flesh. Bringing an end to the dangers that he caused. Finally. Shadow waited patiently with a wagging tail as you slowly got up from the cold ground. “Gruselig.” Startled, you quickly turned around to see König standing not to far away. He laughed at your reaction, seeing you as a tiny kitten now. No longer a vicious wolf who just executed their target.

“Fuck… don’t sneak up on me like that!” You whacked his arm, which only made him laugh more. “Whatever. Anyways, our targets down. Mission accomplished. Now let’s leave because I am freezing.” König heard your teeth begin to chatter and shook his head. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder to hold you closer to him, as you both walked back to the truck.

Shadow followed as you all left the snow covered compound. Eventually going into the forest, piles of snow everywhere you could see. It looked like every winter wonderland scene in the movies; gorgeous.

Spotting the truck tucked between some trees, you pulled away from König with a sudden burst of energy. “Race you!” And before he could respond, you sprinted through the remainder of the forest. All that was between you and the vehicle was a field of snow.

Hearing König’s loud stomping through the snow as he caught up to you, a scream of excitement left your lips. A large grin on your face as you enjoyed your time with your boyfriend. Still managing to keep your lead, you sped up enough to leave a big gap between you and König.

However, your lead didn’t last long. König was barely leaving the forest just as you finished crossing halfway through the open field of snow. And after one particularly heavy step, a loud crack was heard. Not a moment passed before the ice under your boot broke and sent you plunging into the cold water. A shock immediately hit your spine from the sudden temperature change.

The water felt like needles against your skin as you panicked, trying to swim back up and get out. Reaching a hand out to the surface, you felt something firmly take hold of it. You were immediately yanked out of the water, König being your savior. He held you steady as you tried to regain your composure.

“Holy shit!— Y/n are you okay?” König worried, watching as your body began to shiver even more. You nodded your head, too cold to even speak. “Let’s get to the truck, no more running. We need to be careful.” Instead of letting you walk though, König picked you up in his arms and began carrying your shivering body to the vehicle. Shadow was still a happy dog during all of this. A bit messed up considering his handler just fell under the ice of a surprise lake.

You had no complaints though, all of the shivering was causing your muscles to ache. Once König got to the truck, he placed you in the passenger seat and quickly moved to the driver's side. Turning the heater on, he quickly drove away from the area of your recent mission back to the base so you could change.

»»»

After arriving at the base, König ignored the greeting from Soap. Too busy helping you back out into the cold weather. The snowy wind already making your teeth chatter again. “Woah! What the hell happened to you c/n?” Soap tried to stifle his laughter with no sucess.

“K… kiss m-my ass-ss So…Soap.” You grumbled, shivering jaw making the comment much less threatening. Before Soap could bother you anymore, Ghost shooed him away. Also waving off you and König, urging for you to get inside and take care of yourself.

Grabbing your hand, König led you inside and through the halls of the base. Your legs ached from the uncomfortable feeling of your cold gear pressed against your skin. The feeling in your fingertips had gone away long ago and you were aching to have it back. König still hasn’t said much, just quiet whispers of encouragement here and there.

Finally, the two of you reached your room. As soon as the door was shut, you began to discard your uniform. Yanking off the wet fabric while König searched for some warmer clothes for you. “Get in the shower Maus, I’ll bring your clothes. You get warm.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Quickly, you ran into your bathroom and turned on a hot shower. Relief flooded your body feeling your muscles relax and warmth make its way to your fingertips. For a few minutes, you just stood there and allowed for the warm water to just wash over you.

There was a quick knock at the door before it was opened, König’s voice reaching your ears from the other side of the shower curtain. “Your clean clothes are sitting on the counter. Do you need anything else, Liebling?” He asked.

“No, I think I’ll be okay. Thank you König.” You replied, washing the soap out of your hair. König left the bathroom, going back into your room to take care of the dirty uniform.

Getting out of the shower, you quickly threw on your warmer outfit and walked into your room. König had set up your portable heater and some extra blankets on the bed. The man himself was busy looking for a movie on your laptop for the two of you to watch. He had taken off his veil, and also changed his clothes. “Feeling better, Maus?”

You nodded your head with a small smile on your face. Joining him on your bed, the two of you shifted so you could lay comfortably with each other. “Much better. Thank you so much for helping me out of there König… I don’t know what could’ve happened if you weren’t there. I almost couldn’t find anything to grab onto.” A shiver went down your spine at the memory of being in that dark, freezing cold water.

“It’s okay, Maus. Remember, as long as we’re together, I’m never letting a damn thing happen to you. Not a splinter, not a drop of blood.” König said reassuringly, squeezing you closer to him. His free hand played with your hair while the other continued to search for a movie.

The remainder of the night was spent with the two of you curled up in a cuddle pile. Movies playing back to back until the two of you fell asleep. König wanted to stay and also make sure you would be okay after experiencing all of that cold weather. Your body never shivered again, König prevented that with his insane body heat.

Sweet kisses and romantic gestures were shared, while also being interrupted by your jealous K9 who seemed to only ever care about you when you were being loved. It was perfect. And only perfect because this was normal. It wasn’t a special thing for you two to be lovey dovey all night. Daily, endless words of love were shared. And it was your favorite thing in the relationship.

»»»

The next morning, you opened your eyes to see your bedside clock. 9:00 A.M. you slept in longer than usual, and the scratchy feeling in your throat explained why. Bursting into a fit of mini coughs and sniffles as your nose begins to run. Shit.

König ran out of the bathroom, a concerned look on his face. “Oh Gott. Maus, you’re sick.” a loud groan left your lips, sending more discomfort to your throat. “I’ll be back. You stay here. I’m going to go get medicine. Don’t move!” He quickly left the room, not giving you any chance to speak up and tune him down.

He was going to take care of you whether you liked it or not.

REQUESTS:: OPEN

» 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞 … 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

[dumbponyboykinnie]

the outsiders during winter headcanons!!

johnny would love winter if it wasn’t so cold that he can’t sleep at the lot; during frosty nights he has to either sleep at his house or go to curtis and he feels kind of guilty for always staying at their home; also he doesn’t have a good winter coat and spends too much time outside, so always gets cold and constantly sneezes; makes christmas presents for everyone by himself

darry: winter actually irritates him, he has to clear snow and spend extra money on heating; but he still loves it because of skiing and christmas day; also when roads are icy he’s that one clumsy guy that fells every fucking second; allergic to cold so skin on hands cracks skin on face cracks skin everywhere cracks

soda enjoys winter; spends all day in the skating rink performing those tuff scary tricks; throws snowballs at the rest of the gang, then tries to run away and slips on ice and falls; darry can’t force him to wear a hat so often comes down with colds

steve crashes snowmen which were made by little kids and watches them crying; like johnny, doesn’t really like winter because of his dad kicking him out in the cold. sometimes soda takes him to the skating rink but this man can’t skate he just stands in the middle of the rink watching soda and then falls on his ass

two-bit steals christmas presents from stores. celebrates with his family and then in the middle of the night runs to the curtis’ house to party with them; his mom usually bakes a pie for the gang and he brings it; his favourite thing to do in winter is to push a random person into a snowdrift and then run

dally also steals presents; breaks snowmen w steve and throws at people snowballs with stones and ice in them; can’t dress accordingly to the weather always says something like “i ain’t need no scarf i ain’t need no hat im from russia (my little hc again) i bore frost much worse than that” and then gets sick every time after going outside and refuses to admit it

ponyboy hates wearing winter hats “because it’s not tuff darry it looks ugly on me and no one can see my cool hair i ain’t gonna wear this” and 10 minutes later he is walking down the street w johnny and complaining about it, but wearing his hat; is that kid whose snowmen steve crashes

[wheels-of-despair]

Fucking Fireworks Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore. Contains: Angst, panic attack, me torturing this sweet boy just so I can comfort him like the wicked witch I am. Word Count: 1.5k-ish

Fucking fireworks.

You've always hated them. They're loud, they're obnoxious, they're a waste of money. If you buy fireworks, you're basically just setting your money on fire for a few seconds of sparks.

In the past, you'd tolerated them because Eddie loved them. They were loud, they were obnoxious, they were free entertainment because they were everywhere.

Last Fourth of July, you'd brought a carton of ice cream and two spoons up to the roof and occasionally fed each other until the show began. Yeah, yeah, you two are so in love it's disgusting, you're aware.

Last New Year's Eve, you'd huddled with him under a blanket and kissed when his watch beeped at midnight, then laid your head on his shoulder and watched the fireworks from a distance.

But that was before.

Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore.

He won't talk about it, but you see him flinch when a light bulb flickers or a barely-running car turns the corner while riding their squeaky brakes. He buries his face in your neck and squeezes his eyes shut during thunderstorms. He froze when some idiot kids set off a few firecrackers nearby on Halloween.

New Year's Eve was going to be a challenge. Trying to shield him from the fireworks without him knowing what you were doing was going to be a bigger one. You're familiar with the snap of "I'm not a fucking baby!" But he is. He's yours.

The snow worked in your favor. Too dangerous to get on a roof covered in snow, you could slip and break something. Too cold to go anywhere. You'd suggest staying home where it's warm and trying to sync Metallica's Ride the Lightning album with the countdown, so that "For Whom the Bell Tolls" would begin when the clock strikes 12. A genius idea that your sweet metalhead wouldn't be able to refuse.

He went for it.

You'd gone to Family Video and brought home a pile of his favorite movies to watch that evening, along with a case of beer, a bag full of snacks, and a pizza. At midnight, it would be just the two of you and the greatest album ever recorded. Loud. Very loud.

You'd timed everything almost perfectly.

The two of you had finished off an entire pizza and nearly half the snacks by the time the last movie ended at 11:27. You were scheduled to press play on Ride the Lightning at 11:48, so you even had a few minutes to clean up.

It was a great plan… until it wasn't.

At 11:43, while you were washing the last dirty dish, the power went out with a pop.

"Eds?"

Silence. He was on the couch a minute ago.

You fumbled blindly for the flashlight in the junk drawer, letting out a shaky sigh when your hand finally closed around it. You clicked the button and felt a flood of relief when it illuminated the kitchen. Pointing the flashlight at the floor, you made you way over to Eddie.

He was frozen in place on the couch, hands clutching at his sweatpants in a white-knuckle grip.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" you ask softly, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, careful not to shine the light in his eyes. He doesn't respond.

You envied the people in movies, who always made this look so easy. There's nothing easy about it. You feel helpless, because all you want to do is take care of him, and you don't know how. There's no guide book called How to Recover from Nearly Dying in an Alternate Dimension. Maybe you'd talk to Nancy about writing one next year.

Okay, what caused this? The dark. How do we fix it? More light. You suddenly remember a camping lantern that should be in the hall closet. "I'll be right back, Eds," you say with an eerily convincing calmness, considering the panic you felt inside. You lay the flashlight on the coffee table in front of him and angle it toward the hall.

Miraculously, the lantern is not only where it belongs, but it has batteries in it. This wondrous little contraption, received as a Christmas present last year and immediately banished to a cluttered closet, filled the small room with light. You brought it back to the couch, sitting in front of Eddie once more. "Eds?"

He blinked. Blinking is good. You slowly extend your right hand, palm up, toward him. He stares at it, and after a moment, releases a hand from the death grip on his pants and places it in yours. You exhale for the first time in what felt like hours.

"It's just your standard, run-of-the-mill, Hawkins-Sucks power outage, babe. It's okay. You're okay," you say with a smile you hope looks comforting. He's breathing normally, but his eyes are still stuck in a blank stare. Your thumb rubs circles on the back of his hand.

A few minutes pass, and you move a little closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, his hand still in yours. You can see a little color coming back into his face, courtesy of the greatest Christmas present anyone has ever received. You can also feel the inside temperature beginning to drop from the lack of heat.

"Eddie? You with me?" You squeeze his hand, and his eyes finally meet yours. There he is. Your face breaks into a grateful smile.

"It's getting cold. What do you say we move this party to the bedroom?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows for effect. He gives you half a smile, and you feel warmth surge through your whole body. He's back. He's okay.

You hand him the flashlight and slowly rise with the lantern, still not letting go of his hand, and lead him toward the bedroom. You stop at the junk drawer again, shoving extra batteries into your pocket, just in case.

You're both in sweats already, so all you need to do is get him into bed and keep him occupied until the power comes back on. You reach for Eddie's flashlight before he crawls into bed. You switch it off, placing it on the bedside table near the still-lit lantern and spare batteries, and climb in to face him. The lantern fills the room with a comforting glow, the pile of blankets you're under is quickly warming up, you can handle this. You give him a reassuring smile and reach over to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear.

And then the fucking fireworks start.

His body tenses. His eyes widen. You are going to calm him down, and then you're going to go murder everyone who's doing this to him.

"Eddie. EDDIE. It's just fireworks. It's a new year. It's just people celebrating." He doesn't blink. He doesn't move.

What caused this? The noise. How do we fix it? Drown it out with more noise. Why can't we do that? Because the Hawkins power grid is a piece of shit. How else can we fix it? Think, idiot, think… if we can't drown it out with noise, maybe we can drown it out with silence.

"C'mere, baby." You roll from your side to your back and extend an arm, drawing him to you. You're a little surprised, but thankful, when he lets you guide his head to your chest. Your right arm wraps around his back, your left palm presses firmly to his ear to help drown out the sound. You hold him tight, because you don't know what else to do.

He seems to relax after a few minutes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Your right hand begins moving up and down his back, and you press a kiss to the top of his head before resting your cheek against his fluffy locks. You'll stay in this position all night if you have to.

After what feels like an eternity, the crackles and hisses and pops begin to die down. You begin counting when you think you've heard the last of it, not daring to move until you get to 100. You have to restart the count four times before you're finally able to get there, hoping that whoever was supplying this endless exploding nightmare would blow a hand or a dick off. Finally, it's over.

You move your hand off his ear. Is he asleep? His breathing is steady and he hasn't moved in a while. A few seconds pass before his hand finds yours… and moves it back to his ear. You bite back a chuckle and squeeze him, kissing the top of his head again. He groans sleepily and nuzzles into your chest. He's still here. He's okay.

No thanks to those fucking fireworks.

[thebunnednun]

Buggy the Clown x Fem!Reader Enchanted meeting (Part 1)

Authors Note:

Hello everyone!! This is my first time writing so please tell me what you think! I'm sure we've all seen the live-action one-piece. And I've taken a strong liking to a certain clown. Please enjoy as I spin this tale. There's a good deal of flirting, banter, and much more. Definitely going to be a slow-burn fic. If anyone is a little out of character I do apologize. Btw, this is not set in a specific arc but the straw hat crew is included as follows: #MonekeyD.LUffy #RoronaZoro #Nami #Usopp #Sanji #TonyTonyChopper #NicoRobin #Brook #Sanji

Anyway, on with the show!!~

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Context:

"FUCK!"

Screams and cursing erupted everywhere. As far as safety was concerned, there was none. Who knew that going into the forbidden tundra of ice and snow for ice cream would be such a bad idea?

It didn't matter now anyway. The wind whipped at your cheeks as a pair of familiar gummy arms stretched around the crew. There was no ability to see five feet in front of you. After much pushing and shoving the steering wheel was turned and the Thousand Sunny began to fight back.

Finally, with mercy, the storm had to spit you and your crewmates out. Where? No clue. None. The feeling of sand and splintered wood accompanied you all before the darkness followed.

---------------------------------------------------- Current time-----------

"Y/n?!" a voice called out. Opening your eyes hurts like hell. The sun was too bright. And the sand was too cold. Wait... sand?!

Rolling over onto your back the sun's sharp rays began to bore their way into you. Suddenly, a fluff clown covers you. "Y/N!! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Luffy, the sweet goof that he is, crushes you in a tight hug cutting off your oxygen

"Alright, give the girl some space," Nami pulls at the arm closest to her. "What the fuck, happened?" You sit up slowly. "Well-" "THE FUCKING SHIP BROKE!" Heads turn towards a sobbing Usopp trying to rub two pieces of wood together as Sanji comfortingly pats his shoulder. Not too far away, Zoro stands quietly looking over the horizon. A sigh escapes your lips as you deflate into Nami's arms. This could not get any worse. Until a thought hits you.

"Wait, where are the others?" you begin to sit up and look at Nami again. "Robin and Chopper are trying to salvage what they can. Brook got buried under the sand for a while so he's resting." You nod and try to take it all in. So far everyone was alive and counted on. But where were you? Climbing out of Nami and Luffy's company you decided to have a look around. Items were thrown about the beach everywhere including large piles of ice and snow making for a strange scene.  

There’s a moment of uncomfortability that you register but don’t address. Silence never bothered you, but one thing was for certain. You and your family were stranded, highly wanted criminals, with no proper way of fixing the ship unless there wasn’t that much damage. Your feet stop as you come across the sight before you. “Shit.” 

Half the fucking ship was missing. Well, to be exact the giant ram's head was half buried in the snow. The middle of the left-hand side of the haul was cracked open with continents spilling out. As you got closer you could see Robin and Chopper creating piles of things salvageable. A little bit past them lay Brooks looking more lifeless than you’d ever seen him. 

Robin’s eyes caught yours and she waved you over. Watching out for glass and wood you made your way to the haul and placed a hand on the still damp wood. How could everything have changed so quickly? One moment you were all enjoying a frozen treat. The next, holding on for dear life as the elements took their wrath out on you for trespassing. Seeming to read your mind Chopper tugged Robin's leg. 

 “No need to worry,” Robin said as she pressed a compass into the empty palm of your hand. “I think I know what island we’re on. It’s very secluded on this side so we should be fine. However, the other half holds a very populated town known for carpentry. We just might be saved.” Well, that was the first good news all morning. Zoro had been voted to go with you and pick up some supplies. Also so that he didn’t get lost and have the crew spend 14 years to find him. But the walk was pleasant and you took turns humming different toons until you got to the outskirts of town. 

The sound of laughter could be heard as some decorations and flags waved in the air. Seemed like a festival was taking place. Perfect! With all the chaos no one could possibly recognize you both. Zoro managed to find materials needed for the ship while you gathered more basic supplies. However, something about the crowd drew you in. Zoro would be busy for a while so might as well look around,... right? 

The middle of the market square was filled with bright colors, noises, and various performers. You made sure to stick to the walls of the town. However, the cheers and yells for more soon had you stepping closer until you found yourself in the middle circle of a performance act. A slightly chubby man who resembled a sheep was fighting with a pink lion and a green-haired man.

While the act was obviously for kids. You couldn’t help but smile as the three began to fight until a man with blue glasses and a strange ponytail ushered them to stop. He whispered something to them and the expressions of fear were almost completely masked. Then as if the fun had been sucked away, they began to bow and pass out folders. You reached forward to receive one from the lion, thanked him, and began to retreat to where you had last seen Zoro. “Well?”

You held out the flier, “We could kill some time tonight?”

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Author's note: This was Chapter 1! Sorry if it's a bit short. Don't worry though. I have more planned. Please share and like my post so I know to continue with this. Also, just as a nice little tidbit.

I am downbad for this clown.

Part 2

Like they didn't have to make the live action cast so hot. (Yes, yes the fuck they did.) Now, I found him funny in the anime. But, live action? DAMNNNNNN!!!! I think his eyes are so fucking pretty. His jaw and neck look like they need some special attention. Cheekbones? Biteable. Like I DEMAND to see more of this man. Oh, btw, reader gets very flirty and sassy as the story goes on.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Out In The Sticks (Broadchuch Drabble)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged!

Summary: It's high time you forced Alec to take a vacation.

Song: Would That I - Hozier

CW: very soft stuff- idk,, go to your dentists after reading to check for cavities

Broadchurch tag list: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Alec’s never really been one for vacation. Never been one to kick his feet back, sip on a margarita and relax by the pool with a good book. No, Alec’s idea of relaxing was a quick cup of tea and a read of the paper. 

It had taken a great amount of effort to convince Alec to take some of his very, very extensive leave entitlements and pop off for a weekend away, but you’d got there in the end. 

So here you both were, just arriving at a cabin out in the sticks. It was due to snow tonight. It was safe to say that you were excited, and Alec less so. He really was a total grump, but you loved him anyway.

“I hate the snow,” he complained, right hand reaching out to feel as the first flecks of snow started to fall. “So bleedin’ cold, too.” He shook his hand off when the first two melted instantly, the water cold. 

Alec shivered in his big puffer coat and you cooed, pulling him into your embrace. You patted his head mock-comfortingly. 

“Aww, poor baby,” you pouted. “Izzit too cold for you, hm? Poor little thing, come on inside, darling baby.” 

Alec pulled away from you, giving you an only half sincere glare. 

“Shut up,” he growled with no bite, pointing an accusatory finger at you. You broke out into laughter and pulled him by the hand towards the cabin door. It was a quaint little thing and you couldn’t wait to get inside. There would be plenty of time to explore tomorrow. Alec pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the cabin, pushing the door open with a very satisfying wooden creak. 

There was a fire roaring in the fireplace for you already. Seemed a little dangerous to you, but hey, you weren’t the one paying for the insurance. You let out a gasp as you took in your surroundings. Wood grain everywhere, pretty rugs and a big comfortable-looking leather sofa. Oh, yes, now this was more like it.

Alec shrugged your coat off, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. He placed both yours and his coats on the hook by the door and followed you inside. By the time he’d managed to close the door and toe his shoes off, you were already in front of the fire, warming your cold hands and shivering with relief as the cold finally started to ebb away. 

“We should fuck on the rug later by the fire,” you say casually, not looking away from the flames licking up the sides of the logs. “I’ve always wanted to do that. Isn’t there champagne in an ice bucket somewhere too? It’s a plan. Fuck on the rug and then celebrate our fucking with our ice bucket of champagne.” 

Alec scoffs by your ear, wrapping his arms around you. You jump from how cold his skin is and tut. 

“Jesus, man,” you say, not pulling away in the slightest. “I’m going to have to strap water bottles to you this weekend, aren’t I?” 

Alec kisses the top of your head in response.

 

The two of you stand there for a little while, swaying softly in the heat of the fire, enjoying each other's company and finally, after a good long while, getting to relax. No work, no stress. 

The only thing that waited for you this weekend was the spa, some wine, maybe a snowball fight and- if you had any say over it- a lot of naked cuddling. 

You couldn’t wait.

[rdr2stories]

They were everywhere, down the street, on the roofs, in the houses, scrambling, yelling, screaming louder and louder. Not a moment of silence. Shit! Where are they?! Where are the others?!

“We need to leave! Now! Come on!”

Shut up.

“Please! Please don’t do this.”

Shut up!

“Come on! Leave the girl! We need to leave! Forget about the damn money!”

Shut up! I need to think! I need to-! I need to figure this out!

“Don’t do this!”

QUIET! Fuck… She was dead, shot through the head, the blood of an innocent spilled onto the wall behind them by his hand, the hand he had sworn never to hurt someone who didn’t deserve it with. He shot her… Move, come on, MOVE. His body had no reaction as the image of the woman engraved itself into the back of his head and he knew it would haunt him, why did he do that?

“What the fuck did you do?!”

I don’t know… Move. They needed to move, she wasn’t the only one who got shot, one of theirs did too, he needed to get them all out of there unless he wanted them all to get shot. He needed to get them out off there, they were all in danger, everything had gone to shit, nothing had worked out and they were all relying on him to get them out of there. FUCK!

“What is the plan?”

Did he answer? Did words spill out over his lips or did he just run? He didn’t know, but he was moving, he was running, running out onto the street where bullets fell around his ears, graced his cheek and buried themselves right next to him. Did they follow? They followed, the others followed him even though he was leading them into a death trap, even though he was leading them into certain death merely because he panicked.

“Shit- He got shot!”

“I am alive… So far. Fuck!”

“We need to get out of here or he won’t make it!”

“Leave me… I will catch up…”

“Stay strong… We are coming back.”

Was he frozen? No he was moving, but then why was all he could see his companion hiding himself behind a crate, slowly bleeding out, were they even in town anymore? No, no they were out of it, but at what cost? Three shot, one arrested and all the money gone. Fuck! He had messed up, he knew it, he needed help, he needed wisdom, he needed- Darling- Help me- Help me get out of this mess- Please- Why are you looking at me like that…? Those eyes that normally looked at him with such care, such love, why were they wide? Why were they filled with… Confusion? Betrayal?

“What happened in there?”

“It was crazy, it was raining bullets.”

No, please, turn to me, face me, talk to me, why are you ignoring me? Why are you glaring at me? I did… I did all I could! Please! I need your help! Like a lost puppy, like a scared little creature begging for attention and love.

“We need to move, I say we go up the mountains, the law won’t follow us up there.”

Yes, please, take the lead, share the burden with me, tell me what to do.

“We will talk later.”

Why are you whispering? Why did you pull me aside like that? Why are you snarling? Please, I did all I could, I don’t know… I don’t know what went wrong. Why was it not just him? The person he trusted the most, the person that he had started it all with, why was it not just him who was glaring at him? My son, why? Why? Why was he doubting, why was he doing that? Please, I need you.

“You did all you could… You… You are amazing.”

Huh? Who-? Oh. Yes… I did all I could, you are right…

The snow was biting cold, tearing through his clothing, through his skin, freezing over the heart he had tried so desperately to keep warm, ice covering the surface and cooling its core. He needed to do something, they were dying, they were all dying, not just the man with his guts spilling out in the back of his wagon. He needed to do something, it was dying, he could see it, he could see it flickering like a flame in the wind, loyalty. He needed to do something, he needed them to survive, he needed it to survive, he needed to regain it.

A train? A coop…Money… A win… Loyalty.

“Don’t do it, this is not someone you want to mess with. He is a big important man, he will not let you rob him without consequences.”

… I need… I need to do something! Tell me what to do then! Tell me!

“You can do it. Simple train robbery. It is nothing.”

Maybe, maybe it is okay. It isn’t like we haven’t done it before… Oh… The others are up for it, alright.

The snow was melting, it was getting warmer, they were getting more food, more money, they were getting back on their feet. A small town of livestock, they could have money and time, not too bad. They were getting back on their feet, this could work out.

“Hello there.”

Yes, darling, come inside the tent, talk to me, I got an idea, what do you think? Isn’t it good? I like it, it can be our way.

“Not too bad.”

He likes it, he comes with good ideas, yes this could work. What if we did this too?

“No. You will not do that! If you do it you will damn us all!”

Oh… Alright, that upset him, but I guess we won’t, he is smart, he knows best.

“Do it.”

What? No. I won’t, get out of my ear.

“It feels like things have changed, they don’t want folk like us no more.”

I know… I know. Deep inside he knew he couldn’t change it, but what was he meant to do? It was the only world he knew, the death, the running… Run… All he could do was run, run from the world that would no doubt absorb the one they lived in, cast them out or hang them. He needed a plan, a final plan… Until then… Run.

Run. Tell them to pack their bags, tell them to gather their things and run, we can’t stay.

“I told you not to mess with him! I told you he would come for us! The law is on us again!”

I know! I know! My son, go, find us someplace safe!

It was flickering, it was flickering again, the loyalty, the trust. Just as it had started to become stable again, just when things were returning to normal that man showed up, hunted them over the mountains, shot up half the town, nearly killed all four of them… Nearly killed… My sons.

“Well… You… You are amazing.”

I am? I guess I am… You are right, I am.

Two rich families, two people with money in their pockets. This was what they needed, they could play them from both sides, get both their money. Gold even, gold.

Gold. Where is it?

“I am not sure this is smart, we are going to get caught in the cross fire.”

My son… Are you doubting me? My son, there is no need to doubt me.

He had it under control, they were all alive-

“He got shot! They shot him through the head!”

“I told you this was a bad idea!”

What? Had he really become so careless? Had he really allowed one of his members, one of his companions, of his friends, one of the children he had raised, in something so simple…? It was such a simple scam, how had he not seen it? He should have seen it.

“I was there, it looked legit, you could have done nothing.”

Really? Yeah, of course really! I would never get so sloppy! I would never allow one of my own to be put in danger-

“Where is my son?! Where is my son?! Has anyone seen my son?!”

She was crying, screaming, yelling at him as if it was his fault, it wasn’t… He had posted guards 24/7 around the whole camp! He had protected them all! He was going all he could…

They took the boy… What god damn bastards takes a little boy?! What god damn bastard took my grandkid?!

“They took him, the family.”

I will get that boy back. Darling come with me, my sons, come with me, we will get that boy back!

Blood, more blood, more flames, more destruction. He felt nothing killing a whole family, he felt nothing killing a son in front of his mother, he felt nothing as he dragged her through her house, letting her watch as her son burned to death, he felt nothing as he pulled her outside, as he let her be the only survior of a generationally long family. He let her watch as her empire and the bodies of her sons burned in the house that had been built on blood money.

Still no boy, just more packed bags, more running, more setting up camp someplace new, at least they had a roof over their heads, an actual roof.

He could hear them from his room, his longest companion and their son, talking, he could hear them, their doubting.

“Will we be okay?”

“Of course!... I think so… I hope so.”

They are doubting me after everything I did for them, after everything I have done for them, after all those years.

“They don’t see it, they don’t see the necessity of it… They are wrong.”

Yes, they are wrong.

A big city, a heaven for scheming, for robbing, for crime. If he did it right then they could be out of there, then in a few weeks time they could have retired, he just needed one last plan…

The boy is safe.

Yet even with all he had done to get that boy back, his sons, he could feel it, the doubting, it was still there.

“One of them is planting doubt, he has been asking others what happened with that girl, the one you killed.”

Doubt, he keeps doubting me, they all keep doubting me.

“I would never doubt you, you know best.”

Yes, I know best.

The head was laying in the man’s hands as the decapitated body rode in on the horse down towards them. There were screams, shouts, cries.

Another one.

He needed to protect his family, they were all in danger, they were all in such terrible danger. The law, the detectives, the gangs. Everything was closing in on them, they had to move quickly, they had to get one last score, one last-

It was a set up, there were cops everywhere, detectives everywhere and all they got out of it each was fifteen dollars and a quarter. They got the law on their asses even more for fifteen dollars.

“And a quater, don’t forget the quarter.”

Are you making fun of me son? Are you doubting me again?

Was it revenge or did he truly believe what he said to his friend when he explained that they needed to kill the man? The man who had set them up. He wanted to believe it was necessarily, but was it? They didn’t have time for revenge, they didn’t have the money, they needed out.

“Is this a revenge plot? We don’t have time for a revenge plot.”

It is necessity! Don’t you doubt me again son!

“It needed to be done.”

Yes, it needed to be done.

The breeze was picking up, the flame was flickering harder, for moments it seemed almost gone. He could see it in their eyes. One last score and they were out of there, one last score and they could be gone.

The bank.

“I am telling you this is the way to do it, I have sent them all, they are all saying the same, one or two armed guards at the max.”

It doesn’t feel right.

“Are you doubting me?”

Never, never my darling.

“They got him! He is shot!”

Darling! Darling! They shot him! They shot him!

His heart ached, his chest was carving in on itself, his rock, his anchor, his everything, gone, so many years, gone. This was not what he had been told, there were too many lawmen, too quick. Someone… Someone had ratted, someone had told-!

“They arrested him, his wife got away when they shot and killed… You know.”

My son…?

Why was he arrested? Why was he arrested? Why was he arrested and his wife got away when the others were killed? Why did he not loose his lover when he did…

Why did I have to lose my…

They were stuck on a boat leading them god knew where, but at least they had the money-

The money-

It was lost, it was lost on the bottom of the sea as the storm tore the boat apart, when the storm threw them into the sea and hurled them around. All but a little which he had carried in his pockets was lost by the time they managed to get up onto the small island, if they needed to get off, they needed help.

“I will help you if you help me.”

He was in no position to say no, he could see the desperation in the others eyes when they looked to him for answers, he needed to do this right.

“The money, pay more, now!”

Okay…

Her body laid lifeless at his feet, new bruises around the skin on her neck. Was she going to betray them? Maybe, he didn’t know, he just knew… He knew…

I need to get them home- I need to keep them safe…

If there had been a single chance of her ratting them out.

Another innocent body.

“What is wrong with you?!”

I needed to keep us safe! Shut up!

They were safe, to some degree, they were back on land, they were back with the gang… But the law was closing in, he just needed…

“What has happened to you?”

My son, I just- I need some god damn faith! Believe in me! Trust me! I am doing the damn best I can!

“He doesn’t see it, he is doubting.”

Yes.

“We need to get him back! They are talking of hanging my brother!”

Your brother, he lied, he told on us, can’t you see? It is too obvious. It is all going exactly as it should for him. Maybe that sickness is getting to your eyes my son, or maybe just your mind. You are getting weak, more is demanded of me than you, we do not have time for rest.

They had betrayed him, his son had betrayed him, gone behind his back, gotten the traitor out of jail…

“They betrayed you, both of them, they worked together, they are working together against you. After everything you did for them.”

They are betraying me.

“You just need one last-”

Score.

The train, it was obvious, just one more train and they could leave, one more train and it was all done, they would be free.

“He got shot! He is still alive!”

He is a traitor, I will go back for him… How sad, he couldn’t be saved.

“They took his wife! They took her! The detectives.”

“She is just a woman, she isn’t worth it.”

“We can’t just abandon her!”

Yes we can, she is a snitch, her and her traitor husband.

His last son went to save his traitor son’s wife, what a tale.

“He is the rat, the detective told me.”

The only man who has supported me? The only man who has been loyal has betrayed me? The detective told my bastard son the only person who trusts me is the ont betraying me? How foolish he is to believe it.

“You left me! You left me to die!”

His traitor son had survived, both his sons had turned on him, both his sons were after him, after everything he had done for them, after everything they had gone through, that was the end, that was how they would end? Pointing guns at one another? Well, to go out like an outlaw.

“I gave you everything I had, in the end, I really did.”

His son was dying, speaking his last words as he stood over him, watching, trying to figure out what was he was feeling, trying to figure out what he was meant to feel. His son had sacrified his life so his brother could escape, traitors together till the end.

“He deserved that ending.”

Shut up.

The gang was broken up, everything was in ruins, but at least he was alive.

Eight years.

It had been eight years since he had seen any of them, his traitor son, the rest of his gang or the only man who had supported him through it, and yet there they were, standing on top of a mountain, him and the annoying little voice in his ear pointing their guns at his son.

Revenge, are you here for revenge? Why oh why? Because we killed your brother? The brother who you worked with to have us all hanged? Don’t worry, you will get your revenge.

It was so simple to pull the trigger, to murder the man who had been in his ear the entire time, the voice that had grown to become a nuisance instead of a guide.

Oh son you look so confused, it is pathetic.

Pathetic was not what he saw on his son’s face three years later when they stood at the edge of a cliff just the two of them. He was bleeding, shot in the side, he wouldn’t survive, his son was pointing the gun right at him with a hardened, determinded look on his face, the stone cold killer that he had been raised to be.

“You always have a plan.”

Yes, I do.

He had heard, he had heard it all, the story of how his son had tracked them down, their old gang members, tracked them across the border and back, up the mountains, through the revolution of Mexico and killed them. Mercilessly, one by one picking off the survivors.

I will not die by your hand, I will not give you the satisfaction.

---

I had an idea and I tried- Did it work? I don't know, we will see.

[bebzbrainw0rmz]

Beba I need your opinion on this. What do you think happens to pavlevi after the train leaves prehevil with them in it? Do they live together? Do they live apart as secret lovers? Because of the society around them.. Of course

Started writing this when I was drunk (sober now), but I have had thoughts abt this !!!!! Started info dumping so yeahhhh

I have some ideas based off them being the only survivors, like say Karin and Co went to go get ending A. So Pav and Levi were the only ones left on the train as Levi was left behind and told to take care of Pav post Kaiser altercation. To make sure he doesn’t bleed out and die.

I feel like they’d probably jump from place to place at first. Causing problems everywhere they go lol. Just following eachother around because of neither of them having any plans or future after Termina. Levi because in the back of his mind, to take care of Pav was the last ‘order’ he was given.

After a while they move up north, away from most of society. Moving into a little abandoned cabin in the woods that Pav caught wind of in the neighbouring town. They clean the place up, repairing and adding stuff.

They’d only go into town every few weeks to a month for supplies. Due to being so far away so it’s like a whole day trip there and back. But they probably like it that way. Pav might invest in a horse at some point, maybe… would have to be after a while of saving up.

Basically everything they eat they caught themselves. Levi would def enjoy ice fishing, it’s relaxing. Pav thinks it’s boring so he prefers to go hunting (the snow landscape thing I drew in my last art dump was actually them going on a hunting trip lol)

For money they’d process and sell the pelts of their game, or sell any extra fish Levi caught. But they are largely off the grid so they don’t need a ton of cash.

Entertainment wise they read books together in bed. Levi would ask Pav what more complex words meant as I’m pretty sure his education would be rather spotty due to being drafted at 13. If Pav didn’t know the word he’d just make up a definition because he doesn’t wanna seem like an idiot lolll (he also has a spotty education, largely self taught)

I think after a while Pav would take up wood carving. Pav seems like the type to prefer to keep himself busy. he’d probably struggle with having patience for it at first, but he’d get the hang of it with time. Little wooden bunnies being his fav thing to carve. Also another thing to sell for extra cash.

I feel like at first Levi would hate living in the cabin, he’s going through heroin withdrawals, he’s lived in cities for most of his life, not used to the cold so he burns through fire wood quickly. But with time he’d really like it because it’s repetitive, and predictable. The security is comfortable really. And it’s only him and Pav so people aren’t a problem.

Pav would be the opposite. Loving it at first because the climate and lifestyle makes him super nostalgic. Hunting being a good way to blow off steam that doesn’t involve starting fights. But he starts to get antsy because he hates staying in the same place for too long and craves novelty. To combat this he either goes on long hunting trips or visits the city to have fun or smth. Levi probably loathes the city trips because heroin is easily available there so he’s tempted to relapse but Pav is there to hold his hand so it’s okay.

But yeah, realistically these losers are too fucked up to function properly in society. So living off grid in the woods feels like a good substitute.

[ghostaholics]

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆 (𝒉𝒄)

PAIRING: Captain John Price x fem!Reader WARNING(S): [ 18+ ]; unprotected p-in-v sex; shower sex, unintentional temperature play A/N: I see your snowed-in cabin fics and instead raise you to 45˚C/100F+ scenarios with the desperate need to stay cool; inspired by the excessive weather where I live. Honestly idk what this is. Just sweaty Price brain rot.

❝ Always makin’ fun of my boonie hat – not much of a laugh now, is it? ❞

And without saying anything else, he plucks it off his head with one smooth motion before setting it on your own, a rush of heat floods your face at the idea that he's just sacrificed his most treasured protective outwear at your expense.

❝ Looks good, might be better on you than me. ❞

Having to reapply another fresh layer of sunscreen along the thick muscle of his neck, your hands kneading into the sweat-slick skin at his nape – even though you've already wiped at his neck so that it's dry but the sweltering heart keeps generating more beads of perspiration (drip, drip) in the same way the thought of you touching him spawns a fresh gush between your legs, all sticky and messy.

And what makes it even worse is the soft grunts he lets out as your fingertips work on their own accord, finding a knot in between his shoulders and easing the point of tension there with purposeful movements as he relaxes under you, but you start to falter because he's making noises that you really don't want to think too much about before his voice, pitched low and hoarse, startles you out of your thoughts—

❝ Keep at it, love. ❞

Then you're finally done; you tell him so, and you feel some reluctance as you're pulling away because a stupid part of you wants to know what other sounds you can coax out of him. So you adjust the shemagh over his neck back in place and swallow the lump in your throat.

❝ Thank you, ❞ he murmurs, and it's in the same fucking tone he used earlier that turns your breathing shallow and useless.

❝ Anytime. ❞

Then he turns around, eyes smoldering, irises bleeding blue and says—

❝ Don't say that if you're not looking for me to take you up on that offer. ❞

Price fetches some ice cubes. You're not sure where he gets them; you only know that he turns up with a container out of nowhere.

He cups your jaw, angles your head up to expose the column of your throat, cool mouth pressed against your heated flesh, slighty salty with sweat. It's almost overstimulating, the coldness of his lips and the rough scrape of his facial hair against your sensitive skin.

When it melts, he laps up the remaining liquid, flattening his tongue, leaves little nips here and there as he trails over your neck.

The shower in the safehouse is complete and utter shite, not cold enough, lukewarm at best, but it's running water so he can't complain too much about all of its faults as long as it washes away the sticky feeling of being drenched everywhere along his body.

He's peeling off his gear fast, every layer, shucking it off on his way to the bathroom

And while you're still transfixed on his retreating figure, he notices that you don't follow him so he comes back, drags you into the bathroom without saying another word.

He sits you on the counter, starts with sliding your jacket off your shoulder, unlacing your boots, pulling off your top, and once you finally snap out of it, you're helping him speed up the process.

He could fuck you like this, on the counter, or over it with the mirror in front of you. But he doesn't. Maybe later.

Another reason this shower's fucking terrible: it's a small space that can really only accommodate one person, but he'll make it work, god damn it, and he hoists you up, has your legs circling around his waist because space in this cramped stall is both a luxury and a curse.

You tell him to fuck you, not to waste time on foreplay because you've been waiting so long, and he knows, he's just as bad.

❝ I will after, I promise... I fuckin' promise I'll take my time then. ❞

He groans as he pushes into you, feeds you his cock. You're right; you're ready for him, cunt swallowing him whole as he fucks you against the shower tile.

❝ Just too easy, sweetheart. ❞