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#they'll be snow storm to me
bonez-yard · 2 years
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Me, jokingly: Haha what if Blake/Nora/Weiss were called Snow Storm
Me:
Me: wAIT-
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whateveriwant · 10 months
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Idk if you're taking requests, but here I am. Maybe TF 141 with an S/O who has ADHD and when going places, like a mall, for example they'll just completely walk away and they'll just loose their S/O
I took 'reader who is always walking away' and ran with it… ba dum tss (sorry, I had to). Anyway, I hope this is sorta what you were looking for! I was in a Christmas-y mood so all of these are winter/holiday themed!
Price
The park is especially busy for a Friday afternoon. There's children playing in the snow, daring youths having a go on the frozen lake, and families everywhere making memories to last a lifetime.
You've only been sitting on this bench for roughly a quarter of an hour before Price starts to squirm beside you, something clearly making him uncomfortable. Before you can even ask what it is, he's standing from the seat in one brisk motion.
“Be back in a moment, darling,” he grumbles. “The cold makes me need to piss like a stallion.”
As he takes off to find a place to relieve himself, all you can do is laugh and call after him to, “Wash your hands!”
Five minutes and one desecrated tree later, he emerges from the secluded thicket of bushes he found, zipping up his fly discreetly. He makes his way back to the bench you'd been seated at, a bit of a spring to his step… only to deflate once he discovers you’ve disappeared into thin air.
He sighs out loud – a long, drawn-out sound. He could say he's surprised but then he'd be lying. He knows you and your tendency to wander off; this is nothing new to him. Now it's just a matter of finding you again… for the third time this week, he remarks internally.
He would try calling you but he already knows you forgot your phone at home. He's got to get better about reminding you to take it with you whenever you leave the house, especially if he's constantly having to chase after you like you're some sort of loose gerbil.
Thankfully, he sees a set of footprints which he believes to be yours leading away from the bench. So, with no better clues to guide him, he decides to follow after the tracks, hoping they'll lead him right to you.
It's not long into it that he hears a sound in the distance, sort of a low, pleasant humming that grows stronger the closer he gets. It's only a minute or two later when – eureka! – he finds you standing with a small crowd who've gathered to listen to a group of carolers.
Ahh, of course. He should've known. You just can't resist a good live performance. Like a siren calling to you in a storm, one way or another, you'll always find your way to them.
Price easily sidles up next to you, flashing a smile when you briefly turn to take notice of him. His hand finds the small of your back as he joins you in listening, enjoying the festive songs performed by the carolers.
You're standing for a while, attention fully drawn to the singers ahead, when at some point you lean into Price’s ear, your voice lowered to a whisper.
“You washed your hands?” Your question is earnest, if not a little playful.
In response, and with a tone most firm, he declares simply, “...Yep.” Though, the way his hand slips from your back and into his coat pocket reeks of something awfully similar to guilt.
Ghost
You're on your 15th row when you spot it. There, standing not quite two and a half meters tall, perfectly green and dense and conical: your Christmas tree for the year.
An excited squeal leaves your lips and you swiftly run up to the tree to admire its beauty. “This is it! This is the one! Oh, isn't it just perfect?” you say reverently.
“Hold on a minute, love,” Ghost tries to rein you in as he lags a bit further behind. “Isn't that wha' you said about the one a few rows back? Wha' about that one?”
Oh yeah! You forgot all about that tree!
Well, now that he's reminded you, you want to do a little comparison. You tell him to stay put and guard this one while you quickly run back to check out that other one.
Two, five, nearly ten minutes pass and you haven't returned, much to Ghost’s chagrin. He thinks his bollocks must’ve shrunk three sizes by now from how long he's been standing out in this freezing cold.
After a dozen or so minutes, he tries ringing you, just to make sure everything’s alright. When there's no answer on the other end, he tries again, but is met with the same silence that has a streak of alarm bolting up his spine.
Ghost has always been a worrywart when it comes to his loved ones, and that concern only amplifies when it comes to large crowds and even larger spaces.
What's taking so long? Where have you gone? Are you lost? Hurt? Something worse? His mind begins to spiral.
Fuck it, he decides, and abandons the tree in order to seek you out. As he searches, row after row yields nothing but strangers and snow-capped firs. By now he's starting to fully panic, running around like a maniac, drawing the eyes of everyone in the lot as he yells out your name.
When he finally runs into you again – literally runs into you – he's out of breath, his heart pounding, and he grabs your shoulders with his strong hands and nearly shakes you out of your knitted cap.
“Don't scare me like that!” he's more exasperated than angry, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “Thought somethin’ might've happened to you,” he confesses, holding you to his chest like he thinks you'll evaporate if he lets go.
“M’sorry,” you mumble into the wall of hard muscle. “Got distracted.” The excuse is as weak as your skeleton feels beneath his embrace.
Distracted? What could have possibly distracted you enough that you didn't hear him screaming your name?
You pull back just enough to look at him, a sad curl to your lip that he can tell is forced. “I saw the cutest French bulldog,” you say, and Ghost has the audacity to scoff. “No, really! He was wearing the most adorable little Christmas jumper, and his name was Bark-tholomew. Bark-tholomew!” you stress.
Now that he knows you're safe and sound, Ghost loosens his hold on you, closing his eyes as he feels his pulse begin to slow.
“I asked the owners for a picture. Do you wanna see him?” you add hopefully.
When Ghost opens his eyes again, he's met with that sweet look on your face – that one he's unable to resist. He holds his breath for a beat or two, before letting out a deep, resonating sigh. “...Yeah, alright. Let's see it.”
Soap
It's unsurprising to find the mall jam-packed the week before Christmas, but that doesn't mean Soap isn't still annoyed by the swarm of bodies. But that's what he gets for waiting so long to go holiday shopping. Curse those last-minute deals and his inability to pass them up!
However, rather than wandering aimlessly through the mall, Soap has a game plan for today's spree. He knows exactly what stores he wants to hit, in the order he wants to hit them. And with you following closely behind to help, he's sure it'll be no sweat.
The first shop is easy enough to navigate with you trailing after him – providing your input when he inquires, and holding his items for him once he picks the one he wants. The second shop is much the same and the third even easier.
It's on the way to the fourth where, too caught up in his lists, Soap doesn't notice as you divert from the path, something else much more appealing stealing your attention away. It isn't until he's trying to decide between the last remaining pairs of snowmen or gingerbread men socks that he turns to ask your opinion, only to find you nowhere in sight.
He peers around the store for a second, not spotting you anywhere, before he suddenly feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. Your picture flashes across his screen and when he answers, the first question out of your mouth is, “Where are you?”
Where is he? Where are you? You were supposed to be following him, he not-so-subtly reminds you.
“I'm by the Cinnabon,” you tell him, then make a sound like you're taking a sip of something. “They've got hot chocolate. Giving out free cups of it,” you say, and that has Soap's ears instantly perking up.
Oh. So that's what had you scurrying off in his time of need. Honestly though, he can't say he'd have done any differently if he had caught scent of it like you did.
His movements falter for a beat, slowly lowering both pairs of socks in his hands. “Get me a cup, will ya?”
“Sorry. Can't.”
‘Can't’?! Well, why not?
You inform him that they're only giving out one per person and they seem to be running a pretty tight ship, so it's not like you could sneak another under the radar. And that makes sense, he supposes. They want everyone to have a chance to enjoy some.
“But that's why I called,” you continue. “It looks like they're almost out. So if you want one, you gotta come quick.”
The sudden deadline has Soap's eyes darting down to the themed socks in his hands. If he leaves now, they'll no doubt be snatched up by someone else. But the prospect of a cup of hot chocolate is equally as tempting, if not more so.
After debating with himself for about half a second, he asks, “…Where’d ye say ye were again?” as he places the hangers back on their racks. “By the Cinnabon. Right.” He makes his way to the front of the store, moving as quickly as possible. “Wait there,” he tells you, and once he's out the door, he's running full speed, his shopping bags swinging violently in his hands. “I'm comin’!”
Gaz
The night before Christmas seemed as good a night as any to take a walk around the neighborhood. So once you and Gaz had bundled up all nice and warm, you went for a stroll around the block, heading wherever your feet decided to take you.
Over an hour later, you're both just enjoying the evening – giving cheerful greetings to passing neighbors, turning down unexplored streets as you try to soak in this gorgeous night.
It's as you come up to another fork in the road that Gaz suddenly realizes one of his shoes is untied. He stoops to tie the laces, eyes cast down in his concentration, and as he does, you continue walking ahead, completely unaware that you're leaving him behind.
By the time he's finished and stands up again, you've vanished into the middle of this unfamiliar neighborhood.
Damn it. There you've gone and done it again. He knew he should have invested in one of the backpack leash things you see parents try to wrangle their wayward kids in.
You’d both left your phones at home in order to try to fully immerse yourself in this experience, so now he's forced to go old school when it comes to finding you.
He knows you couldn't have gotten very far; it's only a matter of if you went one way or the other. He picks a direction at random and after walking for a moment, he comes across a passerby whom he asks if they've seen someone matching your description. When they say they haven't, he then doubles back, repeating the process in the opposite direction.
Before long, thankfully, Gaz thinks he spots you stopped in front of a house not too far in the distance. He jogs up to where you're standing, and when he comes within earshot, he jokes, “Need to get you a bell or something, hun.”
Though the joke was lame at best, you don't react to it at all; don't even seem to hear it, honestly, which is likely given how distracted you currently are.
Your focus is entirely drawn to the house before you, your back to the street as you stare up at the brick facade. The house is stunning, absolutely covered top to bottom in all sorts of Christmas lights and decorations. It's by far the best display you've seen all year, and a breath of pure amazement leaves your lips as you take it in.
“Wow…” The word clouds the chilled air with a light puff of smoke. “Isn't it beautiful?” your awe bleeds into your voice, making it gentle, dreamy, like a sweet bell ringing in his ears.
Your tone has Gaz turning to face you, watching how you marvel at the way the lights twinkle and shine. A kaleidoscope of colors reflect off your skin, and an almost angelic glow seems to radiate from within you the longer he looks.
As he admires you, Gaz can't help how a smile slowly overtakes his face. With his eyes still trained on you, he takes your hand with his, and speaks softly, almost in a whisper, “Yeah… beautiful.”
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rustyzebra · 1 year
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Steaming Up The Windows
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Emily Prentiss x Reader
Smut MDNI!
Posted on A03
2k+ words
Gif by @storiesofsvu
How would you and the CM woman of your choice keep warm while being stuck in the BAU van during a snowstorm?
(Working on the other lovely women currently. They'll slowly be added. Each will have the same prompt but different outcomes. JJ, Elle, Alex and Tara on the way.)
(Thank you to @storiesofsvu and @whiteberryx for helping me with the ideas)
The group was hot on the unsubs case. The last piece of evidence was found, and you left for the unsubs residence and workplace. Emily and you were on the way to his residence. You both vested up and grabbed your winter coats.
It was early January; the snow was whipped around in a frenzy. The weather statement today said it would drop well below freezing in the early hours of the evening. Even so, there was still a psychopath to catch.
The snowstorm that was said to hit the city was in full force. Emily drove as quickly as she could, trying not to spin out. Eventually, arriving at the residence, you call Hotch, letting him know you came. You both scoped his place out, thoroughly checking every room, only to find the place empty.
"Clear!" You both called out. You called Hotch, letting him know the unsub wasn't here. That was until Emily heard an engine revving outside. Emily and you bolted out the door to your van.
"Hotch, the unsub is on the move; we have eyes on him now!" Emily says as she buckles up quickly. You hop in the seat next to Emily and buckle up, readying your gun if needed.
You tell Hotch the direction the unsub is going while tailing him.
"Fuck, the weather is too bad! I wouldn't be able to get a clean shot of the tires!" You say as Emily starts to close into the Unsub. Emily drove nearly alongside the unsub, trying to ram him off the road. Emily almost had him until the van hit something under a snowbank. You both felt some tires pop as you spun out.
You hear the unsub get away as the van finally stops spinning.
"You ok?" Emily says as she tries to catch her breath.
"Y...Yeah, I'm good." You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your body.
You called Hotch, letting him know what happened. You don't know exactly where you are since the unsub lived remotely. Hotch said the unsub could be on his way to one location they found. Most likely, the ones he's using to hold the women hostage. He was on his way there with Rossi and Reid.
You hung up the phone and sighed.
"Looks like we're stuck here until they can find us." I groan in exasperation.
"I'm sure they'll catch that bastard. Now I want to see the damage." Emily hops out and walks around the car. Once she's done scouting the car, she returns, slightly shivering.
"Damn, it's cold out there." She says while rubbing her hands together. "Looks like we hit a whole lot of discarded barbed wire. Three of our tires are done for." Emily sighs.
"Are you serious? Shit." I lean back in the front seat.
A few hours later, we received a call saying they had caught the guy. They got Penelope to ping our location, but it'll take a while before help could come. The storm was getting worse.
"Hotch, are you kidding? We're stuck in this van until morning?" Emily said in disbelief.
Unfortunately, Hotch was right. The storm made any kind of travel or driving nearly impossible. We'd have to wait out the storm until morning.
"Hotch said there should be at least a blanket in the trunk." You said just after hanging up. You leave the van to check and grab the "blanket." Walking back to the front and getting in, you unfold it only to realize it was only big enough to cover one person's lap.
"Blanket, my ass," Emily says while rolling her eyes.
A few more hours go by, and the temperature starts dropping. You begin to shiver now and then. Emily looks over to see you trying to curl up with that laughable excuse of a blanket.
"Hop in the backseat; we can stay warmer if we sit together," Emily says as she crawls over the center console to get to the back, waiting for you to join her. You crawl back with her and sit beside her, trying to share the small blanket as best as possible.
You feel Emily pull you closer by your waist, and a jolt of electricity shoots through your spine. She left her arm there, still wrapped tightly around your waist. You've had your fair share of bickering and closeness, but never this close.
Eventually giving in to the warmth, you lean your head to lay on her shoulder. Emily was nice and warm; it eventually lulled you to sleep. A couple hours later, you wake up colder than before. Your eyes flutter open; the sky outside is dark.
There is a weight on your head; looking up, you see Emily's head resting on top of yours. A blush grows on your face. You pull the blanket up higher, trying to keep the warmth in. Doing so, you feel Emily shift and mumble.
"Are you still cold?" Emily whispers in a gravelly voice.
Your breath hitches; you've never heard Emily sound like this. The only thing you could muster was a nod. Emily pulled away for a second to unzip her jacket and wrap one side around you. Pulling you closer, you were now nearly sitting on her lap.
"Emily, you'll get cold," I say softly.
"Then you'll just have to stay closer to me." Emily raises an eyebrow with a slight smirk.
She beckons you to sit closer to wrap her coat around you. Sitting in her lap facing her, trying to suck in as much warmth as possible.
"Better?" You hear her words rumble from her chest.
Nodding your head as you lay it back on her shoulder.
"What time is it?" You mutter against her shirt.
Emily pauses for a moment while checking her phone. It's the early hours of the morning already.
"About 2 am. Unfortunately, we still have plenty of time before they come for us." Emily subconsciously starts rubbing your back.
"Try to get some sleep," Emily says while leaning her head back on top of yours.
Trying your best to drift back off to sleep, you couldn't. Your eyes refused to stay closed; you were far too cold to sleep. Nuzzling in closer in the crook of Emily's neck, you breathe in her scent. She always smelt good.
"Can't sleep." Mumbling against the skin of her neck.
You could have sworn Emily shivered, not from the cold but because of your lips gently grazing against her skin. Shifting on your knees, you were starting to get slightly uncomfortable, one of your knees slotted between Emily's thighs, finally finding a comfortable position. You place your weight down only for Emily to shift positions simultaneously.
Her thigh puts the right amount of pressure at the apex of your thighs. A whimper accidentally slips out. You freeze with your eyes wide, praying she didn't hear it. A moment went by, and you thought maybe she didn't listen to you, that was until her hands found your hips.
Your head shot up, eyes meeting hers. Her eyebrow is raised with a wide smirk on her lips.
"What was that?" Emily teased.
"I don't know what you're talking about." You looked out the rear window.
The hands on your hips pulled you down onto her thigh again; this time, the whimper slipped out on purpose. Emily leans in close to your ear.
"I may know of a way to help keep us both warm." Her hot breath against the cold shell of my ear sent shivers down the spine. All you could manage was a gulp.
"I don't want to force you, only if you want to," Emily says softly while moving your chin to look her in the eyes.
You thought for a moment. You did have feelings for Emily, but you never thought it would go past platonic. You knew taking this step meant the possibility of never returning to the way things were between you both.
"I... I am pretty cold." You say softly.
Emily chuckles softly before replying.
"I can see that. But if you want anything, I need consent, sweetheart."
Blushing softly, you hide your head in her neck. It's a little embarrassing to speak your mind. You eventually worked up the courage to tell Emily what you wanted.
"I want this… Emily." I mumble against the skin of her neck.
"So cute. You don't have to be so shy around me." Emily pulls my face up to look at her.
"There you are." She says softly. "Now, while looking at me this time. Are you sure you want this? You can back down, and it'll be like nothing happened."
You nod softly again. "I want this Em." You lean in and place a chaste kiss on her lips.
Emily was taken slightly aback by your bold move. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you closer as you wrap your arms around her neck, effectively deepening the kiss.
Emily's warm lips trailed down your jaw; you tried your best to keep quiet.
"Let out all the pretty noises you want, sweetheart; it's just us two here." Emily punctuates her sentence with a nip to the underside of your jaw. The moan that slipped past your lips was like music to Emily's ears.
"Just like that, sweetheart." Emily husks in between kisses.
"Fuck, you don't know how long I've been waiting for this." She continues as she trails kisses further down, slowly unzipping your jacket.
"Em" You bite your lip as you say her name.
"Just relax, sweet girl. Let me take care of you." Emily gently laid you back and straddled on top of you as best as she could. Your jacket was fully unzipped, and she placed her hands on the exposed bits of skin on your waist.
"Fuck, Em. Your hands are freezing." You hiss.
"Then warm them up for me." Emily raises her eyebrow and smirks.
Emily's hands move higher up while under your shirt. They run over your covered breasts, squeezing and massaging on top of your bra. More lewd sounds left your lips, and Emily continued. You feel her slip a hand under your bra, her fingertips ghosting across your erect nipples.
"Oh? Well, what do we have here?" Emily muses to herself, her smirk widening. Her fingers came in contact with a bit of metal.
"You know I never pictured you with nipple piercings," Emily says mostly to herself as she continues rubbing them.
"S..so you've pictured this before?" You tried to be snarky, but it came out more of a pitiful whine.
Emily's eyes darken as she leans in close to your ear.
"Of course, how could I not when you always look so…" Emily leans in to nip your ear. "So adorable. Just begging to be ruined."
You gulp at Emily's words. You've wanted this for just as long.
"I bet if I were to trail my fingers down, I'd see just how much you've wanted this too, huh?" Emily teases a finger at the hem of your pants.
Emily once again asked for consent. She waits for you to give her the go-ahead before she unbutton and unzips your pants. She gently slides a hand down underneath your panties. You let out a hiss as Emily's cold finger runs through your folds. She pulls out her hand to show you how wet you are already for her.
"Look at that. It looks like you want this; it's so naughty to be this wet for your coworker, hmmm?~" Emily teases.
She places her fingers in front of your mouth.
"That's my good girl. You're taking my fingers so well already, and I haven't even touched that pretty little cunt of yours yet." Emily mused while your tongue continued to swirl around her fingers.
"Suck." That was all Emily needed to say before she shoved her slick, covered fingers into your mouth.
Swirling your tongue around them as you taste yourself. A muffled moan leaves your lips.
Emily pulled her fingers out of her mouth and had you pull your pants down a little for easier access so you don't get as cold as completely stripping.
"Ready, sweetheart?" Emily asks again.
You nod and feel her fingers slowly sink into you. A moan leaves your body as she crooks her fingers up.
"Emily, p..please." You writhe against her fingers as they begin to pump in and out.
"Please, what?" Emily teased.
"Please .. harder." You say with a pant.
"Naughty girl," Emily whispers as she quickens her pace.
Her fingers work nimbly inside of you. Every time she crooks her fingers in a beckoning motion, you see stars.
"Em, I'm s..so close." You whimper into your hand."
"You want to cum, Sweetheart? You want to be my good girl and cum all over my fingers?" Emily husks in between thrusts.
Your eyes roll back at one intense flick at your clit, and your back arches off the car seat. Emily leans in close and kisses your jaw as your release closes in.
"Come on, be my good girl. Cum for me."
That was all you needed to hear before the coil in your stomach snapped and your climax washed over you. A loud moan ripped from your throat as your body felt on fire. Emily kept gently thrusting her fingers until you finished coming down from your high.
She gently pulls out of you as you try to catch your breath. Emily places her fingers in her mouth; a soft moan leaves her lips. She helps you get dressed again and pulls you close to her.
"Once we leave this damn broken-down car, I will fuck you properly," Emily whispers into your ear.
You can't help the whimper that left your lips.
"And I have to return the favour." You said cheekily.
"There will be plenty of time for that too." Emily's nuzzles against your neck.
You grab your dying phone to check the time. It was nearly 4 am. You sigh happily when you see a missed text from Hotch saying they were coming for you in a couple of hours now that the storm has died down.
"They'll be here in a couple of hours." You mumbled softly.
"Perfect, enough time for a nap." Emily chuckles against your neck.
"You better keep your promise, Em." You whisper.
"Oh, I don't go back on a promise." Emily placed a gentle kiss on your neck.
You chuckle and close your eyes. Falling asleep until you got the call that your team was close.
Pulling apart, you both go back to the front seats. You both were finally going home to your nice, warm beds. Well, one of your beds.
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archerinventive · 2 years
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As another storm rolls towards the West Coast, I'm reminded of this shoot I had the pleasure of doing with Kindra Nikole back in 2016.
I remember a sense of deep serenity as I knelt in the woods, the sounds all muffled by a thick layer of snow, my breath damp in the air.
I remember the almost giddy chaos as we fled from that place, fingers too stiff to even remove the plate as we jumped in the car, a blizzard hot on our heels.
It's a memory I hope to hold for a lifetime, and yet there's also a dark side to this piece, for to this day this photo has been the most plagiarized, and copied without credit piece of artwork I've ever helped create.
Since its conception, I've seen people trace this image only to use it on the front cover of published books without consent. I've seen people create fake WIP videos trying to claim credit for the creation of my own face, and before this new year was even a week old it was brought to my attention that once again someone deemed it appropriate to replicate this image without ever giving credit to myself or the photographer for the inspiration.
In a world where the way of life for an artist is already being threatened by AI, there's an extra sting to seeing a person deliberately taking credit for work that isn't theirs, especially when they claim to be a supporter.
So with that I just wanted to say a huge THANK YOU to the true artists out there who persevere.
To those with decorum who know there is no shame in replicating or studying someone's works as long as the proper consent and credit are given.
To those who continue to create, knowing that they're up against AI programs and fellow humans that would steal their work, only to make them compete against their own talent and hard work in an already difficult field.
Thank you to those who go forward, because creating art is who they are, even with these threats, because to create is to breathe.
In the end I believe those who truly love art will know. They'll see past the mimics and the copies, and support those who create from the heart.
So Thank You all. Your bravery and unwavering perseverance is an inspiration, and something I hope to replicate in years to come.
If you'd like to see more of Kindras work I highly recommend checking out her website at http://www.kindranikole.com/
Thank you for staying with me on this long post.
Stay safe and warm this weekend. ❤️
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sunkiss3dlily · 8 months
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to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) part four | joel miller x reader
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Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5916
Summary: Time is running out for you in the fight against David. Joel comes to your rescue.
Note(s): Okay, so now it's become five parts. I should just never set a goal for how many chapters I'm writing because I always exceed it hahahaha but at least Joel and reader are reunited!! I'm not gonna lie this took so long to write because I hated writing for David. He is so creepy and I felt so gross. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, and I promise this time, the next chapter will be the last haha! Thank you for all the love I'm so grateful! And as always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any (detailed, please!) requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡
Taglist: @wonwoosthetic @paleidiot @orcasoul @slut4mascss @paqerings @missladym1981 @oscarisaac2099 @stilllivindue2spite @aspecialgreenie @amyispxnk @caitlynsixxx
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
The bitter cold stole your every sense of direction in the relentless blizzard, pushing you to stumble aimlessly through the thick snow, much like you had the day before, only this time you were no longer the hunter but the prey.
All around, the storm howled, and your every step was one of desperation in the search for any sign of David and James' group.
"Stay alert, everybody; if this man's not already dead, he's dangerous." David's voice calling out from the other end of the street had you bolting to hide behind a fence, your rifle clutched steadily in your hand. "And the woman too; she can’t be fully trusted, either."
Clutching your rifle, you took a shaky breath, straining your hearing to catch the next set of orders.
“What about the little girl?” James' voice cut through the harsh wind, and a surge of protectiveness swelled within you at the mention of Ellie. You silently vowed not to let any of them get near her—not one step.
“We bring her back with us." David responds. "Her, and the woman.”
"Try it, motherfucker," you muttered, biding your time as they started advancing down your end of the street, where you remained safely hidden, at least for the moment. There was no need to risk wasting bullets and missing a shot; you had to be smart about this.
A loud scoff cuts through the air, and a voice that you haven't heard before rings out: "That woman will kill us all in our goddamn sleep if we let her stay with us."
"Yeah, I agree," James cuts in soon after. "I don't mean to question your sense of mercy, David, but we can kill the man and the woman and just let the little girl go. If we bring that little girl back with us, she's just another mouth to feed."
You peek out, taking your aim and squeezing one eye shut.
"If we leave either of them out here, they'll die," David chastises, still seemingly set on having you and Ellie come back with him.
As if you'd let that happen.
James scoffed, and as the group approached, you could now count their numbers.
Five.
You watched as James bitterly shook his head, and almost instinctively, you raised your rifle, focusing on the moving target. "Maybe that's God's will."
David's head snapped to look at his taller friend, but before he could speak, your first shot rang out.
James practically folded in on himself, the bullet finding its mark right between his eyes. Genuine shock registered on David's face before a darker expression replaced it just as swiftly. The other four members of the group looked around in utter bewilderment, raising their weapons and expressing a mix of fear, anger, and shock.
"Holy shit!"
"What the fuck do we do, David?!"
"They killed James!"
Too preoccupied reloading your rifle, you didn't notice David's eyes settling on the neck of your gun, which was slightly peeking out from behind the fence.
"Split up. Find the house they're staying in and get that little girl back to me alive. I'll take care of the woman."
As the three scatter in different directions, you finally look up, and that's when you notice David approaching the fence, his own gun at the ready, aimed and dangerous.
You feel it before you hear it—the burning sensation as the bullet rips through your coat and shirt, sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The sickening whoosh of the bullet through the air is only heard after. Had your senses been more in tune, perhaps you would have dodged it. Instead, a muffled cry of pain escapes your lips as you slam them together, forcing yourself into a standing yet crouched position. Running along the back of the fence, you do your best to ignore both the pain and the sensation of your blood coating your fingers, compressing the wound as you move, the rifle held limply in the hand of your injured arm.
"Get back here!"
Your legs turn to jelly as you sprint through the snow, heading straight for one of the houses. Despite the intensifying pain in your shoulder, you strive to keep your cool. Bullets whiz dangerously close to your tattered boots, narrowly missing as you move just a fraction too quickly for David's shooting ability.
“It doesn’t have to be this hard!”
Gasping for breath, you reach cover at the side of a nearby house, pressing your back against the cold exterior. The bitter wind bites at your exposed skin as you take a moment to assess the wound on your shoulder, your fingers coming away stained with blood. You reach back, whimpering to yourself as you feel the unmistakable hole in your shirt and coat, realising that, for one small mercy, the bullet has gone straight through.
"I didn't want to hurt you." David's voice echoes chillingly close, urging you to retreat to the back of the house. As you hastily assess for an entry point, he adds with a sinister tone, "You forced my hand."
Despite the searing pain in your shoulder and the fear gnawing at your senses, a twisted sense of relief settles in as you reach the back of the house. The knowledge that it's you who David is pursuing, and not Joel or Ellie, somehow grants you a twisted comfort.
“There’s no need to keep fighting me like this. It’s pointless.”
With trembling hands, you fumble to open the door, your mind racing faster than your jittery heartbeat.
The wooden door creaks open, revealing the dim interior of the house. Staggering under the weight of pain and panic, you stumble inside, the world spinning as you navigate the all-too-familiar surroundings from when you were desperately searching for any first aid for Joel the day prior, so you already know there is nothing here that is going to help you. The urgency of your situation intensifies, and you quickly slam the door behind you closed.
The house offers a brief respite from the relentless blizzard and the immediate threat of David's pursuit. As you move deeper into the residence, your unsteady footsteps echo against the worn floorboards. The muted sounds of the storm outside contrast with the thunderous beating of your heart.
A narrow staircase comes into view, and with each step, your legs feel heavier, like lead. The ascent is a gruelling task, with your battered body protesting with every movement. As you reach the top, you catch your breath, realising the vulnerability of your situation. You're wounded and isolated, and you're at the mercy of your surroundings and David.
Summoning the last reserves of your strength, you push forward, weaving through the upper floor. The pain in your shoulder becomes an unbearable companion, gnawing at your resolve, and your vision blurs. A distant bedroom beckons, and you stumble towards it, guided more by instinct than conscious thought.
With each step, the world becomes more of a blurry haze. You push the bedroom door open with a light swing, revealing your final refuge from the chaos. Collapsing against the far wall, behind a double bed, you sink to the floor, your breaths ragged and laboured. The room spins around you as you succumb to the exhaustion, your body finally finding a momentary sanctuary amid the turmoil.
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
The unmistakable echo of a gunshot reached Joel's ears, shattering the relative silence of the basement and snapping him out of the uneasy rest he had slipped into.
It felt like just moments ago that he had watched you leave, resolute in facing danger to protect him and Ellie. The mental image of you willingly sacrificing yourself for their safety wound around his heart like barbed wire, each beat accentuating his feelings of pain and helplessness. Staring at the closed door, he had been consumed by profound desperation, silently yearning for you to turn around and come back to them, to him. But, as the seconds ticked away, it became clear you weren't coming back.
Ellie's eyes had met his, her dark pools of pleading tears watching him as the weight of sleep threatened to pull him under.
"Joel! Wake the fuck up! We have to go!"
Suddenly, Ellie was gripping his shirt, the surge of adrenaline from the shock of it all combatting the heaviness of his slumber. The gunshot's resonance wasn't just a haunting echo of his nightmares about Sarah; it was the stark reality now centred around you. Whether you were the shooter or the one being shot at, Joel couldn't allow himself to stand, or rather lay, by while you faced danger, even in his weakened state.
"Joel!" Ellie repeated, shaking him just as furiously as before. "Fuck, wait a second."
She disappeared from his sight for a moment, peripherals included, and for some twisted reason inside of him, the thought of her leaving too made him even more scared. He couldn't lose both of you.
"Ellie," he called hoarsely.
She was back within a few moments, seemingly fueled by the sound of his voice as she kneeled beside him, syringe and medicine bottle in hand. "Yeah, I'm here. Just give me a minute. I've never done this before."
He held still, barely breathing as the needle pricked his wound once more, not wanting to freak the kid out any more than she already was.
"Ellie," he repeated. Her eyes fell to his as she continued to plunge the syringe slowly, just as she had watched you do so many times. Her dark eyes were still watery and held so much fear that she attempted to hide with her otherwise stoic expression, barring the slight trembling of her lips. "It's...it's gonna be okay."
"Yeah," she nodded, though her gaze fell away from him as if she didn't believe him. "I know."
Silence settled between them, a void that you typically filled. As Ellie withdrew the syringe, returning it along with the medicine to her bag, the echo of a second gunshot pierced the air, prompting them to exchange uneasy glances.
The heavy footsteps from above spurred Joel into action, breaking the inertia that had held him for days. He staggered to his feet, his unsteady legs protesting disuse, and gently guided Ellie into the corner beneath the stairs. Pressing his rifle into her hands, he saw the horror in her eyes. A shake of his head preceded his retrieval of her knife from the bag.
"If anything goes wrong, you shoot and run, alright?" Her mouth opened, but he silenced any objections, his tone unwavering. "No. No questions, no smart remarks. You run."
Joel's voice carried a resolute authority, his eyes revealing a blend of concern and determination. Ellie nodded, her grip tightening on the rifle as she comprehended the gravity of the situation.
The clamour above intensified, muffled voices now accompanied by the crash of furniture in front of the basement door. 
Time seemed to stretch as they waited, breaths suspended in anticipation. As the footsteps finally seemed to reach the top of the stairs and the door opened, Joel whispered one final directive, his voice barely audible. 
"Face the wall."
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
A tender touch, brushing hair away from your forehead, coaxes you back to awareness. Initially feeling numb, the haze lifts as you blink away blurriness, and the searing pain in your wound snaps into focus. A cry escapes your lips, and instinctively, you reach to cover the injury, as if the pressure could quell the pain. Surprisingly, a make-shift bandage is wrapped around the bare skin of your shoulder, and as you withdraw your hand, you find no fresh blood, only the remnants of dried staining from before.
A fleeting sense of relief washes over you when you suddenly realise someone is taking care of you; you've been saved.
"You were lucky; I'll give you that."
Anticipating Joel's deep, somewhat soothing tone, the sudden and chilling sound of David's higher voice jolted you. Startled, you looked up and blinked rapidly, only to find the devil himself kneeling in front of you, his hand resting on your cheek.
"Getting the jump on us like that. It was smart." He chuckled slightly, unsettling you further, prompting an instinctive flex of your fingers to search for your rifle. It must have been moved, and you think you can see the handle just behind him on the bed. The sheet on top of the mattress appears to be torn, evidently being what was used to conceal your wound. "I won't say it'll earn you many brownie points with the folks back home, but I understand. I understand why you did it."
You draw in a shaky breath, attempting to breathe through the pain and panic, while desperately searching your mind for any semblance of a plan.
David withdraws his hand from your cheek, replacing it with two fingers on your neck's pulse point, holding them there for a moment. "You know, I was worried you weren't going to wake up at all."
You make your best attempt to shrug him off, disliking the sensation of his cold fingertips on your skin. Despite your weakness, you glare up at him and retort, "You should be more worried than I was."
He smiles with a glint of amusement in his eyes, and you despise the gut-wrenching feeling of vulnerability blooming in your chest at the notion of being stuck in this man's presence. A chuckle escapes him, and he sucks his teeth before raising his hand, causing your head to snap to the side as the back of his hand connects with your cheek, a ring on his finger slashing your cheek upon impact.
Stunned to silence, you manage only a few heavy breaths as blood dribbles down your cheek. Eventually, you compose yourself enough to meet his gaze once more.
David releases a heavy sigh, observing you with a gaze that combines pity and satisfaction as he sits back on his knees.
“I like you. I do."
You glare back at him, biting back a snide comment.
He smiles, releasing a soft chuckle. “You’re so much different from the women back in my village. They’re so docile, complacent, and scared of their own shadows. You, on the other hand, are feral. Violent. A murderer.”
You swallow uncomfortably, unsettled by the excited glint in his eyes as he gazes at you.
“I like that. It’s realistic. A woman who does what she has to do to get what she wants. It’s the only way to survive, right?” David smiles, reaching out to clasp your limp hand that sits on your lap. “We’re very similar in that way. We do what we have to do to provide for the people who rely on us. No matter what, right?”
You fight the urge to snap his fingers in your palm, feeling his thumb stroking roughly over your skin, a poor imitation of Joel's comforting touch from only hours ago.
“You see, I’m not your enemy here.” He whispers in an attempt at a soothing tone. “I never have been. In fact, I am your equal, and in being that, I believe you would make the perfect addition to stand by my side in leading our people through the darkness that this winter has brought.”
You shake your head, but he raises a hand and emits a shushing noise.
“I know. It’s a hard concept to grasp when you’re in this fight-or-flight headspace. I’m sure you feel you won’t be accepted by them for all your sins and for all the heartache you’ve brought to our community, but they, as well as you, will come to understand, in good time, that reformation is indeed possible.” He squeezes your hand tight—so tight that it becomes uncomfortable very quickly. You breathe your way through the pain. “And if you can’t, then you can provide for our community in another way.” He lifts his other hand to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “My people are hungry, you see. I wouldn’t be a good leader if I didn't do what I needed to provide for them, despite sacrificing what would be the closest thing I have to my equal. You understand the necessity of that, right?”
A sickening feeling churns in your stomach. Whatever he has in mind for you is likely nothing you want to endure. You bite your tongue, resolved to maintain composure and conceal your fear.
“And then, I suppose, your daughter will be the one to take your place beside me.”
Your entire body tenses, and he seems to notice the fire blazing in your eyes at the mention of Ellie, a light smirk settling on his lips.
Quick to wipe it off, you wrap your palm around his middle finger and tug it back with all the strength you can muster, causing a sickening crack as it breaks, ricocheting around you. He lets out an anguished cry of pain, filling you with relentless satisfaction. As he releases your hand entirely, you shove him backward and use the wall to guide you to your feet.
Rushing for your rifle, your movements are short-lived as you feel his hand wrap around your ankle, grabbing hold of you. Swinging your arm around to hit him, he tugs you forcefully via your arm, causing you to flop face down on the floor beside him.
Releasing angry pants, he flips you over onto your back and uses his free hand to press down on your wound, keeping you down and eliciting a cry of unbearable pain from your lips.
“There it is. There’s that fight in you I like so much.”
You spit at him, aiming directly for his face, and raise your knee to strike him in the crotch. He releases your wound, and you take a sharp intake of breath, readying your hand to deliver a strike to his face. But he's too quick, grabbing your wrist and yanking it hard, exerting so much force that you feel your arm being ripped out of its socket.
A blinding wave of pain overwhelms you, bringing all your struggles to an instant halt. Your pain threshold has been entirely depleted. You're done fighting. It's all too much.
He clears his throat as he shifts to hold himself above you, his gaze a mix of satisfaction and disappointment as he looks down at you.
“Is that all you’ve got in you?” He laughed breathlessly. “I’m disappointed. Underneath all that strong facade, you’re just the same as every other woman. Weak. I should’ve known you’d end up just the same: under my mercy."
Your strength waned, unable to conceal the overwhelming fear as his weight bore down on you, and instead, you opened your mouth, releasing a gut-wrenching scream.
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
It was guttural���the scream that tore through the streets—and it sent a shiver down Joel's spine. Ellie was huddled at his side, his arm protectively encircling her, marking the first substantial contact between them. The moment he tensed, he felt her reaction mirror his own.
Joel held tight to Callus' reins in his other hand. Although logic dictated that he and Ellie should be riding towards your safety, the events in the basement lingered in Joel's mind. Forcing two out of three men to reveal your whereabouts, even with Ellie upstairs and out of direct earshot, it had been a traumatic ordeal for the both of them. Joel couldn't deny Ellie the comfort of being close to him after such a harrowing experience. Contrary to his initial fears, it became evident that Ellie wasn't terrified of him; in fact, the very opposite seemed true.
'"That's her," Ellie said through chattering teeth as the biting winds whipped around them. "We have to help her."
Joel nodded, his gaze firm and determined, tugging Callus along once more. "We will. We'll get to her."
Once again, your scream, fraught with fear and desperation, reverberated through the desolate streets. The chilling sound momentarily froze time, leaving Joel feeling utterly helpless about where to go or how to reach you. The haunting silence that followed became almost unbearable, casting an oppressive weight on Joel's chest, which he tried to ignore with every stride he took, Ellie in tow.
Abruptly, just as it had ceased, your screaming resumed, and Joel couldn't summon the strength to look down, yet he could feel Ellie's tears soaking his shirt. Each agonising note sliced through the air, and this time, it seemed to pierce Joel even more deeply than before. The raw, visceral sound of your distress clawed at his heart, dismantling any remaining walls that held back his emotions towards you. He despised that sound—the sound of you in pain, the sound of you scared, the sound of you broken—and silently vowed to do whatever it took to never hear it again.
However, amidst the torment, there existed a perverse sense of gratitude. Your screams served as a guiding force, leading Joel, Ellie, and Callus through the relentless blizzard in pursuit of you. A steely resolve tightened Joel's jaw, determination etched across his weathered face as you fell silent once more, only to start screaming again seconds later. The idea of you enduring suffering was unbearable, and an urgency to reach you surged through Joel's veins, propelling their movements forward through the biting cold.
Reaching the front of the house from which your screams echoed, Joel gently pulled away from Ellie's trembling frame. He tried to ignore the way she instinctively sought to move closer, holding her by the shoulders. "I need you to listen to me, Ellie."
Her face was pale, tear-stricken, and concerned, lacking the strength to argue. She nodded in response.
"I need you to ride Callus to the furthest house away, to the very last one in this neighbourhood, okay? Not one sooner. The very last one."
Her lips parted, wobbling, but your scream from above tore every word from the tip of her tongue. She made her way to Callus, placing one foot in the stirrup before Joel helped launch her onto the horse completely. He held back a wince as his wound ached with every movement, and raised his rifle for her to take.
"I'll come and find you as soon as we're out. You don't leave for anything. You stay right there, hidden, until we come back. Got it?"
Ellie took the rifle, slugging it onto shoulder, before gripping Callus' reins and nodding. "Got it."
"Good." He hummed, stroking Callus' side before meeting Ellie's eyes. "Go on."
She simply sniffled, murmuring, "Let's go," to the horse before she and Callus thundered off down the street.
Joel watched as Ellie rode away, his rifle slung over her shoulder, and as he turned back towards the house, it took him about a second to realise you were no longer making any noise, and it only took half of that time to send him into utter panic.
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
The carpet beneath your fingernails was the only sensation you registered as David's hand coiled around your throat, tightening its grip and stifling any more attempts at screaming.
You weren't fighting back anymore. You couldn't. You'd lost it all the moment David had you pinned down and injured. The likelihood of Joel succumbing to the brutality of David's men gnawed at your conscience. Imagining Ellie, now alone and convinced you were lost too, fighting desperately to escape their clutches added another layer of anguish to your already shattered resolve. You didn't want to risk that becoming a truth, and so you just lay there.
Time seemed to stretch with each agonising blink, your eyes lingering shut for longer intervals. As David's suffocating grip on your throat gradually released, you struggled to focus through the haze. His lips moved, likely weaving a twisted soliloquy, but the only sound that reached you was the persistent thud of blood coursing through your veins. Each breath you managed to draw felt like a desperate attempt to refill your lungs, your chest heaving with the effort.
His vice-like grip on your neck finally released, and as you dared to steal a glance downward, all you saw was his hand moving towards his zipper.
You clutched at the carpet, fingers digging in, and drew in a wheezy breath, steeling yourself for whatever might come next.
David's face and body loomed over you, paralysing you with fear. Just as you thought it was all over, the sudden impact of your rifle against the side of his head sent his looming figure crashing to the floor beside you. Through the haze of your vision, you could vaguely make out a blurry figure in a brown coat gripping your rifle and ruthlessly slamming it down repeatedly onto what appeared to be David's body.
Unable to discern many words, you could only catch snippets of angry and pained sounds. Fear gripped you, but in a moment of reprieve, you managed to turn on your side. For perhaps the first time since you woke up, you felt a semblance of relief, as if you could finally afford to breathe again.
Your body ached, and your lungs burned with each precious breath of fresh air, reminiscent of a dog lapping up water on a scorching day. Curled into a foetal position, the only sounds that reached your ears were the haunting echoes of sniffles and whimpering. It didn't take long for you to grasp the painful realisation that those anguished sounds were escaping your own lips.
A hand gripping your ankle jolts you into immediate action, fearing the worst. A distressed wail escapes your lips as you kick out, refusing to glance at the person who has a hold of you. Slowly crawling away, you use your uninjured arm to support yourself, doing your best to fight the searing pain flowing through you.
The hand lets up, and then it moves to land delicately on your back. Gentle and light, it hovers, assuring you of his presence.
Everything seems to move once more in slow motion as you continue to kick out, eventually flipping onto your side and meeting your would-be assailant's eyes once more.
Except it's not David.
It's Joel.
His lips are parted, and he is speaking to you softly. His face is taut with concern, distress, and fear.
"..'s me; it's just me. It's me."
The sound of relief escaping you doesn't come close to the immense relief flooding your insides.
As Joel senses the realisation dawning in your eyes, his expression eases slightly, a fraction of his concern dissipating.
You can't help but avert your gaze, your eyes falling upon David's battered body lying a short distance away. The butt of your rifle, stained with his blood, rests by his side. It's evident that Joel has discarded it and hurried to your aid.
His touch on your cheek is gentle, coaxing you to meet his gaze once more.
"Look at me," he urges, his voice a comforting murmur. "You're okay. You're with me. Just keep your eyes on me. Keep focusing on me."
Your lip trembles. "J-Joel...he…he…”
"I know," he murmurs softly, his face etched with pain as he gently covers your hand with his own on the floor. The gesture makes you flinch involuntarily, and memories of David flood your mind. "I know, honey. I know."
Honey.
The term is uttered with such tenderness, so delicately, that it catches you off guard. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he regards you with the utmost care, as if he can hardly believe he's reached you in time.
Tears stream down your cheeks, unnoticed, until you feel his arms enveloping you. It's surprising the sheer gentleness emanating from a man hardened by years of violence, his fists having shed blood from countless adversaries. Yet here he is, cradling you as though you're the most precious gift, as if it's the most natural thing for him to do, as though he was born to love and protect you, no matter the time it took for him to realise it.
His hand finds solace in your matted hair, anchoring you to him as you weep against his chest. For a long while, he remains silent, allowing your sorrow to seep into him as if, by some miracle, it might alleviate your pain. You feel a shift in his posture, and then his chapped lips brush gently against your forehead.
Drawing back slightly from the comfort of his embrace, you meet his gaze.
"You're... you're alive," you breathe out softly.
The corners of his lips twitch up a little, and he nods gently down at you. "Your stubborn ass saved me, remember?"
"I... I had to. I couldn't... couldn't lose you," you respond, still teary-eyed. Your gaze darts around frantically for a moment. "E—Ellie? Where's Ellie? Did they get Ellie?"
Joel shakes his head quickly. "We... I got 'em, I swear. They didn't touch her. She's safe."
"They... they were really bad people, Joel," you whisper, a slight desperation in your voice, as if you need him to believe you, though you have no idea why you feel the need to justify it. "Really bad. They... they... the things he wanted to do."
Your gaze starts to drift back to David's body, but Joel gently redirects your focus to him with a tender touch on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the blood from where David's ring had cut your skin. "No, no. Don't look at him, alright? Just keep looking at me and listening, okay? Focus right here on me and me only."
You nod, your attention fixed on him.
“You did good, sweetheart. You did so good. You saved me and Ellie, and…and you’re still here with us. It was always going to be your life over any of theirs. You did what you had to do.”
Weakly, you nod and rest your trembling hand on his arm.
He glances down at your hand, resting his own atop it, and takes a breath. Using the next few moments to assess your condition, he notices the blood-soaked sheet wrapped around your shoulder, his face paling considerably. Then, his gaze falls on the swollen part of your arm where David has torn it from its socket.
He releases your hand and rises to his feet, prompting a soft cry of his name from you, as if he might leave you in that state.
"I'm right here. You're okay," he assures you, reaching down to cup your cheek. "I just need to... I need to help you. You're hurt, sweetheart. Just keep your eyes on me. I'm not going anywhere; I just need to..."
Glancing over to the bed, where the ripped sheet lies, he reluctantly lets go of you and strides over to retrieve it. Returning to your side, he offers reassurance. "See? I'm still here."
You watch him carefully as he tears the fabric apart with his bare hands, studying his every move.
"Joel," you say softly at first, catching his attention only when you repeat his name with a bit more urgency.
"Yeah, what's up?" He responds, turning to you.
"I'm... I'm glad you're here."
His worried expression softens, though concern still lingers in his gentle brown eyes. After a moment's pause, he replies, "Me too, honey." Taking a breath, he continues, "Now, I'm gonna ask you to do something for me, okay?"
You weakly nod your agreement.
"Just stay still while I see what I can do about your arm, alright?" he instructs.
He shakily reaches over to lightly press your swollen, deformed-looking arm, retracting his hand almost immediately when you cry out in pain. The anguish in his eyes mirrors your own hurt, and once the wave of pain has passed, you grasp his coat with your uninjured hand, murmuring your apologies.
"It's okay, it's okay," he reassures you softly, cupping your cheek and meeting your gaze with his intense one. "I need you to trust me for a second, okay? This is going to hurt, but you are going to be just fine, I promise. Everything's going to be okay."
Tears brim in your eyes, but you nod. "I trust you, Joel."
He smiles softly at you, leaning forward to press a kiss on your head before he reaches out and takes your injured arm's hand in his own. With a shaky breath, he asks, "Can you feel that?"
You nod with a sniffle.
"Good. That's good." He squeezes your hand gently. "And you feel that?"
Again, you nod.
He squeezes once more, meeting your eyes. "Still with me?"
Another nod.
Taking a breath, he squeezes for the third time, a nervous expression clouding his face.
It takes you a moment to process his confession as pain overwhelms you. But when you realise what he has said, everything stops hurting for a moment, and a relieved tear slips down your cheek.
He smiles weakly back at you.
And then he tugs.
✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚,
"Almost there, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, his hand light on your back as he guides you through the blizzard, mindful of your delicate state. "I've got you."
Your injured arm is cradled in a makeshift sling, and a fresh bandage, fashioned from the same sheet, is carefully tied over your bullet wound. Despite the lingering pain, being with Joel feels like a balm to your soul, as if you're walking on air. The thought of being reunited with Ellie soon fills you with hope, giving you the strength to keep moving forward, despite the weariness weighing down your legs.
Every little noise puts you on edge, whether it's the howl of the wind or the thud of snow against a roof. But Joel is there, a reassuring presence, whispering words of comfort each time you tense up, trying to reach for a weapon and inadvertently causing yourself more pain.
"Hey, hey, it’s okay," Joel assures as you come to reach the last few houses on the road, the sight of horse prints visible in the snow-covered ground. "Look behind us; look around. There is no one here but us. No one is going to hurt you, I promise."
You look around nervously, seeing that he is right. You are simply overwhelmed by paranoia right now.
“No one is going to hurt you,” Joel repeats gently, a change from his usual tone but a welcome one. You've never felt safer.
You nod, scooting closer to him all the same.
The horse tracks lead up to the final house on the road, and Joel is grateful that Ellie followed his instructions this time.
He shuffles as slowly as you need up the short distance of the porch steps, and when you both reach the top and you begin to lose your ability to keep moving forward, he wraps your uninjured arm around his neck and keeps you moving. “I’ve got you. You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re just tired, that’s all. You’re going to rest as soon as we get inside, alright? Talk to me; let me know you’re still in there.”
“Still here..." you assure quietly, though your vision is beginning to blur and darkness is beginning to form in your peripherals.
“Atta girl, stay with me.” He presses a gentle hand over your ear and pushes the other to rest against his chest. He raises his voice, though muffled to you, as he kicks the front door as he has no hands free. “Ellie! Open up! It’s us!”
By the time the door opens, you are halfway through succumbing to the darkness.
©️sunkiss3dlily, 2024.
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wholoveseggs · 6 months
Text
Crimson Frost {Part Two}
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part Two
After the raid on your village you are separated from your little sister and your betrothed Niklaus, not knowing if they are alive or dead. Holed up in a hut with Elijah during a raging snowstorm, you train and prepare to hunt down the Blackthornes. Meanwhile, Niklaus, Kol and Rebekah have found safe haven in a nearby village, the leader Ansel provides all he can.
♡♡ Sorry for the wait on this one! ♡♡
5.5k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots of death and violence, sprinkle of norse mythology... a little bit of smut in this part but I won't spoil who.
{Part One} {Part Three} {Part Four} {Part Five}
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You woke to the sound of wind howling and the creaking of the roof beams, it was still dark and the fire had burned low, the chill was already creeping in.
You got up and went over to the window, looking out onto the white landscape, the snow was coming down fast, and you could barely see the tree line.
"Elijah," you nudged him awake, "the storm, it's bad."
He sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching, "We won't be able to travel today." He said, moving to stoke the fire, "I'll go out and get more wood. We'll need it if we want to make it through the day."
He got dressed and grabbed his ax, "Stay here, I won't be long."
"I can help, we need food as well," you offered, grabbing your coat and boots.
"No, it's too dangerous, you could get lost, or worse," Elijah said.
"I'll be fine, I can handle myself," you argued, the memory of Einar's attack still fresh in your mind.
"It's not just about the danger, there's also the wolves, they'll be out hunting," Elijah explained, his tone serious.
"I am not a child anymore Elijah, you cannot boss me around, I can hunt and fight as well as any man," you huffed, crossing your arms.
"I know, I saw the way you fought off those raiders. You are a true warrior, worthy of the gods," Elijah smiled, his eyes shining with admiration.
"I'm also good at hunting rabbits," you said with a smile, picking up a old bow that was leaning against the wall.
Elijah sighed, you were stubborn like Niklaus, and he knew there was no point in arguing.
"Alright, but stay close, and keep an eye out for wolves, they're more cunning than you think," he warned.
"I can handle wolves," you smirked.
You bundled up and followed Elijah outside, the cold air nipping at your skin. You didn't go far before you found deer prints in the snow, they were fresh, and the tracks were deep.
"We're in luck, there's a herd nearby," Elijah whispered, "keep your bow ready, we'll try and take one down."
You nodded, following Elijah's lead. You stalked through the forest, your footsteps silent.
You saw a large stag ahead, his antlers standing tall and proud. He was beautiful and a part of you wished to leave it be, but you knew you had to feed the both of you.
Elijah made the signal and you let your arrow fly, it hit the stag in the neck, and he went down, the herd scattering.
The two of you spent the better part of the day tracking down and killing a couple of does and a few rabbits. It was hard work, but the thrill of the hunt and the success of a good kill made it worth it.
The snow was still falling, and you could see the storm was only getting worse. The game you hunted would last you a good while and you set to work preparing it, hanging the meat and skinning the hides.
Elijah worked beside you, helping you cut and dry the meat, his hands steady and sure. You were both silent, lost in your thoughts. You always wondered about Niklaus' mysterious older brother, the rest of the Mikaelson siblings you had grown up with, with the exception of Finn, who had always kept to himself. But Elijah was the enigma of the family. He was quiet and reserved, but there was a strength and determination in him, you could see it in his eyes.
You wondered why he had never married, why he was still alone. He was handsome and strong, any woman would be lucky to have him.
"Why haven't you taken a wife?" You blurted out, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.
Elijah looked up, a small smile on his face, "Is that a question you ask everyone, or is it just me?"
You felt your face heat up, and you ducked your head, embarrassed, "Forgive me, I did not mean to offend."
"It's quite alright," Elijah chuckled, "I never found the right person, I suppose."
"You are a good man, any woman would be lucky to have you," you smiled, turning back to the venison you were cutting.
"Thank you, but I fear I am too boring for most women," Elijah laughed, his tone light and playful.
"Oh, I don't know about that, you seem quite interesting to me," you teased, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
"I am honored to have such a high opinion from you," Elijah smirked, his eyes shining with mischief.
You both finished the venison, and you hung the hides to dry, the sun was setting and the temperature was dropping.
"We should go inside, the storm is getting worse," Elijah said, his brow furrowed in concern. "I worry our lovely horse may be a bit difficult to dig out in the morning."
You laughed and shook your head, "I'm sure she'll be just fine. She's a tough one."
The two of you walked back to the cabin, the wind whipping around you, the snow stinging your skin, you were freezing.
You hurried inside and started the fire, the warmth slowly returning to the small space. The wind was really howling outside, the trees swaying wildly, the sound of almost deafening.
"Do you think the others made it? Where would they have gone," you asked, unable to stop your mind from wandering.
"They'll be alright, they're smart and strong," Elijah reassured you, "they've probably made it to the neighboring village, the leader there knows my mother," he added, his voice quiet.
You could hear the worry in his voice, the unspoken fears, his siblings, your sister, were they safe, were they alive?
The two of you settled in for the night, the storm showing no signs of slowing. You huddled close to the fire, the blankets wrapped tightly around you, trying to keep warm. The cold had seeped into your bones, and Elijah noticed the way you trembled.
"Come here," he said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close, his body pressed against yours.
You were stiff and hesitant, but the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace made you relax, the tension slowly melting away.
"It's not proper, us being this close," you whispered, your cheeks flushing.
"I'm not the one who has to worry about being proper," he joked, his breath tickling your ear, "besides, we're not doing anything wrong, just sharing our body heat,"
You giggled, his words easing your nerves, "I suppose you're right,"
The two of you sat like that for a while, the fire crackling and the wind howling, the sounds of the storm filling the room.
"When this storm breaks we should make for the coast," Elijah said, breaking the silence, his hand causally rubbing your arm, the heat of his touch causing strange sensations within you.
"Why not the village? Where the rest could be?" You asked, looking up at him, his face illuminated by the fire.
"The Blackthornes will take their thralls to the coast, to ship them off and sell them. They're brutal, but smart, they'll want to get rid of them as quickly as possible, before word gets out," Elijah explained, his voice grim.
"Gerda.. She's just a child," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, the thought of your baby sister being sold like cattle making you sick.
"Henrik will protect her the best he can, he has a warriors heart," Elijah said, his voice cracking a bit at the thought of his baby brother. He was only ten summers and had barely learned to fight.
You nodded, the tears flowing freely now, "I- I can't lose them. I can't lose her,"
Elijah pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, his hands stroking your hair, "We'll find them, we'll save them. I swear it on the gods."
The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other's embrace, the warmth of the fire and the closeness of his body providing a small measure of comfort. You feared that maybe you were the only two left alive, that everyone else had perished in the raid.
"What if we don't find them, what if we're too late," you whispered, your voice shaking, the weight of the situation weighing heavily on you.
"Then we will avenge them," Elijah said, his tone solemn, "we will make those bastards pay for what they've done."
You nodded, staring into the flames, the drums of war beating in your mind. You would fight until the last drop of blood, for your people, for your family.
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In the following weeks Elijah took it upon himself to train you to fight.
The two of you trained every day, honing your skills and pushing each other to the limits.
Elijah was a relentless and patient teacher, never letting up, always demanding more. And you were a willing student, eager to learn, and determined to become stronger, faster, better.
You spent countless hours sparring, practicing defense, you had an affinity for wielding two axes, the blades swift and deadly in your hands.
The two of you were well suited as a fighting duo, your strengths complimenting each other, your weaknesses covering for the other.
"Keep your arms up, higher, good," Elijah encouraged as the two of you went through a series of drills, "now, again,"
The two of you circled each other, your axes ready. You lunged, swinging the axe, the blade narrowly missing Elijah's chest. He smiled and brought his shield up, blocking the blow, the sound of metal on wood echoing through the clearing.
"Better," he said, "you're quick, and you have the element of surprise on your side, but you must remember, no matter how good you are, there will always be someone better."
"Like you?" you smirked.
"Maybe a little," Elijah chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
He stepped forward and swung his axe, the blade singing through the air, you ducked and rolled, coming up behind him to strike him. But he was faster, he flipped you on your back, the blade of his axe pressed against your throat, "Never underestimate your opponent,"
You looked up at him, his eyes locked on yours, his face flushed from the exercise, his breath hot against your skin, "I understand," you whispered, your pulse racing.
You thought about what his lips would feel like against yours, his body pressing you into the soft ground. You had to admit you had become more than attracted to him, he was strong, brave, and smart, he had a way of drawing you in, you had never quite experienced it before, not even with Niklaus.
You wondered if he felt the same, if he ever thought of you, of what it would be like to kiss you, to touch you.
"Do you?," he asked, his voice low and husky.
You swallowed hard, the blade still pressed against your neck, "Yes, I do,"
"Good," he said, his voice a whisper, his eyes full of desire.
He stood and held out his hand, helping you to your feet. You both stood there for a moment, your bodies dangerously close, the tension between you growing thick.
You wanted him, and you could tell he wanted you too. But it was wrong, you were supposed to be his sister-in-law, it was forbidden, taboo.
You were still a maiden, promised to Niklaus. But you knew deep down you did not love him, not like Elijah. You didn't know why the gods cursed you with such feelings, with such a longing for the brother of the man you were promised to.
"Elijah, I-" You started, your voice shaky, the words dying on your tongue.
"Let's go inside, the air is too cold," Elijah said, his voice gentle.
"Y-yes," you nodded, following him inside.
Your heart was racing, your mind a mess, you couldn't believe the things you were feeling, the desires you had. It went against everything you had been taught, it was sinful, it was wrong.
And yet, you could not deny it. You were drawn to him, you longed for his touch, his kiss, his body pressed against yours. You wanted to do things with him that husband and wife do, forbidden things.
But the gods were watching, and they did not take kindly to those who disobeyed their laws. You could not give in to your desires, you had to remain strong, pure, chaste.
Still, you wondered if the gods had a plan for the two of you, if maybe they had destined you to be together. Maybe the gods wanted you to be happy, to have true love in your life.
You watched Elijah stoke the fire, cooking a rabbit over the flames, the scent of it making your stomach growl. You sat on the floor, your knees pulled to your chest, the blanket wrapped tightly around you, a barrier between the two of you.
"How did you know about this place?" You asked, referring to the cabin.
"My brothers and I built it years ago," he said, "We came here to get away, to have some time to ourselves. We would camp and hunt, it was our escape from... the pressures of being a son of a jarl," he added, a wistful smile on his face.
"I heard that Mikael could be a difficult man," you said, knowing that was an understatement.
Elijah didn't say anything, just handed you a piece of the cooked rabbit, his hand brushing against yours. You ate in silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound.
"He could be... cruel," Elijah said, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes distant, like he was lost in a memory, "there are secrets in my family, things that no one speaks of,"
"Secrets?" You asked, your curiosity piqued.
"Things I cannot talk about," he said, his jaw set, his gaze dark.
You didn't want to press the matter, whatever the secrets were, they were clearly painful for him, you didn't want to force him to relive them.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, reaching out and placing your hand on his.
He looked at you, his expression softening, a sad smile playing on his lips, "It's okay, it's in the past now. What matters is the future, what we do to honor the ones we lost, to protect those who are still with us."
You nodded, his words resonating deep within you, "You're right, we must not dwell on the past, we must focus on the future, on those we love,"
Elijah smiled, his hand squeezing yours, "Yes, the future is all that matters,"
The two of you finished your meal, the silence no longer tense, but comfortable. You helped him clean up and prepare the space for the night, the storm finally letting up.
You got ready for bed, washing yourself in the basin and slipping into a simple linen tunic.
Elijah did the same, and you could not help but admire his body, his lean muscles, his skin smooth and tanned from the sun. You usually looked away, to give him privacy like he did for you, but you were drawn to him, your eyes taking in every inch of him.
He caught you looking and you quickly turned away, your face burning. He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that made your heart flutter.
"Sorry, I was just-" you mumbled, embarrassed.
"Goodnight, y/n. Come dawn we will start tracking the Blackthornes," he said, the playfulness in his voice gone, replaced by the hardened resolve of a warrior.
"Goodnight, Elijah," you replied, curling up on the pallet, the warmth of the fire lulling you to sleep.
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The smell of herbs and spices filled the air as Tatia mixed some in a bowl, the healer humming quietly to herself. The young woman was a skilled healer and well-respected in her village.
"There, this should help ease your pain," Tatia smiled at Rebekah, handing her the bowl, the liquid inside warm and soothing.
"Thank you," Rebekah smiled weakly, bringing the bowl to her lips. She winced as she drank, the scar on her face throbbing with pain.
"Careful now," Tatia said softly, "that elixir is strong. You'll want to go slow and make sure you're keeping it down,"
Rebekah nodded and drank slower, the warmth of the brew filling her body and dulling the pain.
Niklaus sat beside Kol, who was sleeping on a cot in the healer's hut, his body bruised and battered from the fight with the Blackthorne raiders. Tatia's eyes met Niklaus', he couldn't help but feel a tingle of warmth spread across his body as he watched the healer's eyes linger on his, there was something about the way she looked at him that made him feel seen, appreciated, as if she could see his pain and anger.
Tatia smiled gently and reached out to touch Niklaus' hand, the simple gesture making his breath catch in his throat, "you have the strength of Odin," she whispered, her voice like a song, "you saved them both from those brutes,"
Niklaus looked up at the woman, her face beautiful, her eyes kind and understanding.
"I-" Niklaus stammered, "I had to, they are my family." He had never felt so at a loss for words before, and he struggled to find the words to describe the pain he was feeling.
"Let me take a look at you," Tatia said gently, "you look like you could use a healing touch yourself,"
Niklaus hesitated, still overwhelmed by the woman's closeness and the connection he felt. Tatia sensed his unease and took his hand, her skin warm against his. "You must be at your full strength for the war to come." She smiled at him and he found himself smiling back, despite the ache in his body.
Tatia motioned for Niklaus to lay down, she pulled up his tunic, taking a look at the wound on his side, the flesh raw and bruised, "It's not too bad," she said softly, her hands gentle as they cleaned and bandaged the wound, "it will become just another scar for you to boast to your wife about," she teased. Niklaus couldn't help but chuckle at her words, a feeling of warmth spreading through him at her touch.
He felt a wave of guilt at the thought of you, his future wife. He wondered how you were doing, if you were safe, if he would ever see you again. Tatia must have sensed his worry, she looked up at him, her eyes soft. "She is strong and fierce, and I am certain she will come back to you,"
Niklaus swallowed hard, his throat thick with emotion. He prayed that Elijah had saved you, that the two of you were somewhere safe, weathering the storm together.
He sighed and nodded, "I know, but it doesn't stop the worry and pain from eating away at me."
"I understand," Tatia said, her fingers tracing along Niklaus' jaw, her touch sending a jolt of warmth through his body, "the bond of family is strong and often the most painful."
Tatia continued her work, cleaning and tending to Niklaus' wounds, the gentle touch of her hands making him feel safe and protected.
"You should speak to our leader, Ansel, when you're feeling better," Tatia said after she finished, "I know he will be interested in meeting you. He will want to hear your story and your plans."
Niklaus nodded, he couldn't help but notice how the young healer's eyes lingered on him as she spoke. "I will, thank you Tatia, you have been more than kind," he said.
"Of course," Tatia said, giving Niklaus one last smile, "you're a special guest here. I knew your mother quite well,"
Tatia's words took Niklaus by surprise, "You did?"
"Aye," Tatia nodded, suddenly avoiding Niklaus gaze, she stood and went to check on Rebekah who had fallen asleep in a chair, the pain of the healing draught helping her rest.
Niklaus stared at her for a moment, wanting to ask more, but deciding to let it go. The young healer was right, he was here on important business, he couldn't afford to let his emotions get in the way. He had to be focused and clear-headed if he was to get his revenge on the Blackthornes. He would need the support of Ansel and his men if he were to succeed.
Kol began to stir, he slowly opened his eyes, groaning with pain as he tried to sit up.
"Careful, Kol," Tatia said softly, placing her hand gently on Kol's arm, "you need to rest,"
"What happened?" Kol said, his voice raspy, he looked around the room, his gaze falling on Rebekah, who was asleep on the chair near the fire, "where Niklaus?"
"I'm here, little brother," Niklaus said, coming to sit by the edge of the bed, "how do you feel?"
"I've been better," Kol chuckled weakly, "I feel like a herd of wild boars trampled over me," he shifted in the bed and winced, Tatia moved quickly to help him get comfortable, the young man gritting his teeth through the pain.
"Try not to move too much, Kol," Tatia said softly, her gaze lingering on him, "your wounds are still fresh."
"Aye," Kol breathed out, the young man's face pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, his brow furrowed in pain, "how long have I been out?"
"Two days," Niklaus said, his voice low, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he thought of you, his future bride. He wondered where you were, if you were safe, if Elijah had found you.
"Where is y/n? Elijah?" Kol asked, his voice strained, his eyes filled with worry.
"I don't know," Niklaus said, his voice hoarse, his throat thick with emotion. He swallowed hard and rubbed his temples, the pain of his injuries and his worry for you, his brother, and sister, weighing heavy on him.
Tatia placed a cool cloth on Kol's head, her touch gentle, soothing, "have faith," she whispered, "the gods have not forsaken them."
"Aye," Niklaus said, his gaze fixed on the flames of the hearth, "I must go speak with Ansel,"
Tatia nodded and Niklaus stood, his body aching, his heart heavy. He walked out into the village, the storm having passed, the skies clear and blue.
The villagers were busy repairing their homes, patching roofs and fixing doors, the sounds of axes chopping wood and the shouts of men filling the air. He headed towards the longhouse, his heart racing, he felt a knot in his stomach as he thought of what he was about to do.
He took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy wooden door, the familiar smells of the hall greeting him, ale, meat, and smoke. But it wasn't the same, there was a heaviness to the air, a sadness that he couldn't shake.
Ansel sat at the table, he was sharpening his sword, his expression hard, the man's eyes dark with anger and grief. He looked up as Niklaus approached, his gaze fixed on him, a hint of surprise in his face, "Niklaus Mikaelson, the gods have truly blessed me today," he stood and gripped Niklaus' arm in a warrior's greeting, "I'm sorry for the loss of your loved ones, I knew your mother well. May she rest with the gods in Valhalla,"
"Thank you, Jarl Ansel, it is an honor to meet you," Niklaus said, returning the grip, the man's strength taking him by surprise, "and the gods are merciful. They brought me here, to your village."
Ansel smiled and gestured for him to sit, the older man poured two cups of ale and handed one to Niklaus, "To the gods," he said, raising his cup.
"To the gods," Niklaus repeated, his gaze fixed on the man before him.
"My scouts have informed me that the Blackthornes have been raiding across the land," Ansel said, his voice low, "rounding up our young to sell into slavery."
Niklaus gripped his cup tighter, his knuckles white, "Aye," he nodded, "they took my little brother Henrik and my near sister-in-law Gerda,"
"They are foul creatures," Ansel spat, "they have no honor, no respect for the old ways."
"That's why I've come to you," Niklaus said, his voice firm, "I've come to seek your help in finding them, in saving the people they have taken."
Ansel gave him a sympathetic look, "You have my sympathies, but I cannot take on the Blackthornes," he shook his head, his jaw set, "I need my men here to protect my people,"
Niklaus swallowed hard, he had expected this answer, he felt rage bubbling within him, "I will not stand idly by while those bastards take more people from their families,"
Ansel's expression hardened, "it is the will of the gods, we must accept it,"
"No," Niklaus shook his head, his anger rising, "I will not accept that." He stood, his fists clenched, his heart racing, "I will not accept the gods abandoning us. I will not accept that they have given up on us,"
"Niklaus," Ansel warned, "I am your elder, and the Jarl of this village. You will show me the respect I deserve,"
"Respect?" Niklaus spat, his face twisted with anger, "you're nothing but a coward. You're content to sit here, in your hall, surrounded by your men. But you won't go out and fight."
"It's more complicated than that son," Ansel said, his voice steady, his eyes cold.
"Don't call me son," Niklaus growled, "you're not my father, you're nothing to me."
Ansel chuckled and shook his head, "You remind me so much of your mother. She was just as stubborn and foolish,"
Niklaus took a deep breath, calming himself, he wanted to strike at Ansel. But he thought of Rebekah and Kol, they needed him, he couldn't afford to lose control, not now, not when he was so close to getting the help he needed.
"If you will not help me," Niklaus said, his voice low and dangerous, "then I will find the Blackthornes myself,"
Ansel sighed and rubbed his temples, his jaw set, his expression grim, "I will give you any supplies you may need, and you and your family are welcome to stay here, as long as you need."
Niklaus clenched his fists, he was torn between wanting to accept the man's offer and wanting to strike him down, to make him feel the pain of losing someone.
"I appreciate the offer," Niklaus said, his voice strained, "I wish you could do more for me, but I will take what I can get."
"The gods are not always clear in their will, Niklaus," Ansel said, his voice low and steady, "but I have my people to look out for. Perhaps you will be a Jarl one day, and then you will understand,"
"Perhaps," Niklaus said, the man's words ringing in his head, he turned and left the hall, the anger inside him simmering.
He needed to find you, to find Elijah, to save Henrik and Gerda. Every god there ever was could stand against him for all be cared, he would drag his broken body through the gates of the underworld to save those he loved.
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Tatia insisted that Niklaus heal before setting out to find the Blackthornes. She cared for him and his family, ensuring that they had everything they needed.
She took a keen interest in him, her eyes following him, her gaze lingering on him, her touch sending jolts of warmth through his body.
The night before he set off, he sat in her hut, nursing a cup of ale, lost in his thoughts. Tatia hummed softly has she shaved the sides of his head, the young woman's hands deft and sure, the only sounds were the blade and the crackle of the fire.
"Where will you go in search for them?" Tatia asked, her voice low, as she ran the blade along his scalp.
"The coast, I've heard rumors that the Blackthornes are selling slaves in the fishing market there,"
Tatia nodded, "it's a dangerous place, and not a good fate for any young child,"
"I have to try," Niklaus said, his voice heavy with emotion, his throat tight, his chest aching, the pain of losing his parents and brother still raw, the grief weighing on him.
"Of course," Tatia whispered, her voice like a song, her hands gentle as she ran them over his head, checking for any missed patches of hair. She braided the long strip of hair that remained on top, her touch gentle, comforting, "the gods will guide you, Niklaus."
Niklaus nodded, her words echoing in his head. He had always been a devout man, believing in the will of the gods, but lately, he felt lost, adrift, as if the gods had abandoned him, his family, his village.
"Why did the gods allow the Blackthornes to destroy my village?" He whispered, his voice hoarse, the pain and rage within him threatening to overwhelm him, "why did they let my parents die?"
"The gods work in mysterious ways, Niklaus," Tatia said, her voice soft, understanding, "they are not always clear in their will, we must trust them, and have faith that they have a plan."
She finished braiding, her hands sliding over his shoulders, the touch making his heart race. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, his mind swirling, his emotions churning. The young healer had a calming effect on him, the tension leaving his body, the rage and pain subsiding, at least for a moment.
She kissed the side of his head, her lips soft, warm, her scent intoxicating, a mixture of herbs and spices. She sat beside him, her hand on his arm, her eyes filled with concern, "You should rest," she said softly, "you have a long journey ahead of you."
Niklaus looked into her dark eyes, she was a singular beauty, one that he could easily lose himself in. He had felt a connection with her since the first moment he saw her, his soul calling out to her, begging him to surrender, to lose himself in her. But he knew he couldn't, he had made a promise, he had a duty to fulfill, he was to marry you.
But you could be dead, his mind whispered. And even if you weren't, there were no guarantees that he would find you, or that you would survive the journey.
And he could die, tomorrow or the next day, on the road, at the hands of the Blackthornes. The world was a dangerous place, and death was always around the corner.
He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his heart hammering in his chest. He pressed his lips against hers, his hands cupping her face, the kiss deepening, the two of them melting into each other.
Niklaus felt a surge of lust, his body aching for her, the desire coursing through him, his mind spinning. He knew this was wrong, that he was betraying you, his future wife, but in this moment, he didn't care. All he wanted was her.
He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, his eyes burning into hers. His hands went to her waist, lifting her onto his lap, his cock hardening, pressing against her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him, her lips warm and soft.
She rocked her hips against his, the friction sending waves of pleasure through him. He groaned, his fingers digging into her flesh, his need for her overwhelming him.
"Lay with me, before I ride off to Valhalla," he murmured, his voice low and husky.
She nodded, her cheeks flushed, her dark eyes filled with desire. Her hand trailing down his chest, his body tensing at her touch, his blood burning for her.
He picked her up and carried her to her bed, the two of them falling onto the soft furs. Their bodies entwined, the passion and heat between them consuming them.
The guilt and shame Niklaus had felt earlier disappeared as Tatia moaned beneath him, her skin slick with sweat, her body quivering as he brought her to climax.
He kissed her, his tongue dancing with hers, the taste of her, the feeling of her body, soft and yielding, thoughts of you long forgotten.
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{Part One} {Part Three} {Part Four} {Part Five}
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡
♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahmikaelsonsboy
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thedeathlysallows · 6 months
Text
Is It Over Now? (10)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon; Aegon Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon
Summary: Red blood, white snow
Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Aemond confesses Luke's fate. Aegon is a sneaky bastard. Sexual assault.
Tag List: @callsignwidow
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"Be careful, my darling!" Laenor, your father, calls out in worry as you dash ahead of him. "Dragons can be dangerous."
"Not Vermithor! He isn't mean, he's just lonely and sad because no one understands him." You cross your arms and whirl around to face Laenor who simply sighs in the face of your five year old stubbornness.
"You look like your Aunt Laena when you do that."
"That's what grandfather says."
Laenor scoops you up in his arms and carries you the rest of the way to Vermithor's favorite resting spot: a large valley on the south side of the island. It's the perfect resting spot for him really. The size is perfect for the grumpy old dragon to rest his wings when he grows tired of the sky or his volcano.
That's where you happened upon him the first time. He was toying with some poor sheep before devouring it whole, and you could only stand and watch in awe. When he turned his massive head to meet your eyes upon hearing your shocked gasp you knew right away Vermithor was yours.
Your parents tried to argue with you, of course. They told you he was too old and you too inexperienced.
"Papa?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think Vermithor and Vhagar are friends? Mother says they're close in age."
Laenor chuckles at your question and says, "perhaps. Would you like them to be friends?"
You think for a minute, tapping your finger against your chin. "Yes, actually. I think they'd be very good friends. Maybe they'll even fall in love one day?"
"Maybe, my darling." Laenor puts you down as the two of you reach the top of the valley and kneels before you. You can see Vermithor just below watching you with an unspoken joy. "But for now I'm afraid you must wake up."
You frown. This isn't how the memory goes. "What?"
"Wake up, Aemma." Laenor's voice shifts and fear grips your heart.
"Papa?"
"Aemma, wake up!"
You bolt straight up in bed, pushing away the hands gripping your shoulders. Your heart thuds in your chest and your skin feels sticky from sweating in the warm summer air circulating your bedroom. Tears continue rolling down your cheeks. Aemond looks down at you with concern. You've been doing nothing but sleeping and crying since the coronation, and he isn't sure how to help you.
"Oh," you finally manage to say. "You've returned. How was Lord Baratheon."
"As stubborn as you'd expect." Aemond sits beside you, taking your hand in his. "I saw Lucerys at Storm's End."
You visibly perk up, desperate to hear anything about your family. "How is he?"
There are few people in Aemond's life that can read his expressions and read them truly. His mother, Helaena, and you. He knows he can't lie to you about what happened, but what else can he possibly say? Not a soul yet knows what happened between him and Lucerys because he couldn't have word of it getting back to you before he could tell you himself.
"Aemond?"
He flinches at the feeling of your hand caressing his cheek. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve you. You're too kind, too beautiful, too utterly pure for this world. He knows there isn't a possibility of forgiveness, but he can't live without you.
So Aemond takes a steadying breath and says, "there was an incident."
"What do you mean?"
"We departed Storm's End at the same time, but our dragons seemed to be under the impression it was a chase. Arrax attacked first and Vhagar followed suit. I tried to stop it, but neither dragon would listen."
You blink, drawing your hand away from Aemond's face. "Aemond, what are you trying to tell me?"
"Lucerys and Arrax perished. I never meant for things to get out of hand-"
The blood leaves your face and you're left with an icy, lightheaded feeling. "It doesn't fucking matter what you meant! My brother is dead!"
"He wasn't supposed to die!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, did you try telling him that?" The venom in your voice is almost tangible and you hope it's enough to burn Aemond. "Get out."
"Aemma-"
"I said get out!"
Rather than fight you, Aemond retreats slowly. "I'll leave you to mourn in peace, wife."
Just as you hoped your words burnt Aemond, his burn you in return. "Don't call me that."
"You are my wife. I understand you're hurt, but that won't change the truth."
You choke back a sob, saying, "please, Aemond. Just go."
"As you wish. I'll return after I've met with the council."
You want to tell him not to bother, but the words won't come. Nothing comes except the irresistible beckoning of sleep. That's what you'll do. You'll go back to sleep and maybe this time Luke will be there along with your father.
But sleep won't come despite the heaviness of your eyelids.
You toss back and forth miserably for what could be minutes or hours, you don't know.
In the distance you can faintly hear the door open and close. Footsteps approach the bed, weight dips and shifts on the mattress, hands grab your waist and turn you over, you bury your face in his chest and breathe in the familiar scent of Aegon.
"I sent Aemond to keep an eye on the City Watch as they train," Aegon explains as he strokes your hair.
You say nothing in return. You aren't stupid. You aren't naive. You understand exactly why Aegon keeps sending Aemond on all these various errands and it makes your blood boil. He still sees you as a toy to fight over, to win. Even in the shadow of your brother's death all Aegon cares about is using your body.
As if in silent agreement with your thoughts, Aegon's hand slips beneath the thin cotton of your nightgown to cup your sex. His lips, once soft and inviting, feel harsh against your neck now. You wriggle against him, trying your best to force him off of you.
"I want you to leave," you tell him. "Get out of my chambers and bring Aemond back."
"You can't mean that, sweet girl." Aegon grinds his hard cock into your ass, nipping at your earlobe.
"I do."
Before you can fight him further, Aegon flips you over so you're pinned beneath him, his eyes burning with rage. He grabs your wrists and holds them above your head. You can feel the heat of his body through your gown and you hate yourself for the way it ignites a fire in your belly. Aegon is the reason for your current torment and yet you still find yourself craving him in some way.
"You don't mean that," he repeats. "Never say that again. Not you."
Aegon hates the blank look in your eyes. It's frightening, something he's never witnessed before. You've always loved him the most. Always.
"Tell me you don't mean it. Tell me!"
"I'll thank you to get off my wife, brother." Aemond's hand grips Aegon's collar firmly, leaving no option for Aegon except to listen.
You slowly sit up as Aegon's weight leaves you. The brothers glare at one another. You're unimpressed by their pissing match.
"I would like to write to my mother," you announce. "No, I will write to my mother."
"You can't," Aegon says without looking away from Aemond. "You'll have no contact with your traitor mother."
"What could I possibly tell her that would be so damning? I know nothing of your plans, all of you have made sure of that. Let me mourn with my family."
Both men are silent and you know the answer before Aegon says it.
"No."
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honey-minded-hivemind · 6 months
Note
Hello! I was taking pictures of my cat and it got me thinking about the fallen snow au and the giant cat room you mentioned. I was wondering if you could make a little post of everyone reacting to reader sleeping in the cat room like this
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No rush of course! Keep up the great writing ❤️
Oooooooh my heavens, look at that lil' bby!!!😍 They are so precious!!! And I can try to make a reaction headcanons list to how the different platonic yans act if they see Creed!Reader sleeping like this!!! Let's try it:
• Sabretooth would be purring, seeing his cub curled up like that. The guy would likely curl up with Reader, hissing if anyone who wasn't the other kids or his brother came close
• Wolverine would likely be having a cuteness meltdown on the inside (He does whenever he sees any of his cubs or pups doing something cute, he just shortcircuits on the outside for a second or two)
• Laura and Kyle (X-23 and Wild Child) would immediately be lying diwn next to Reader and hugging them like they were a stuffed animal. They woukd look like a pile of kittens or puppies sleeping together, not gonna lie
• If Scott or Jean saw them, they'd be taking pictures/mentally telling the Professor about it. They'd be trading the photos like trading cards, too
• Pietro and Wanda would be blushing, then asking if they can join the cuddle pile. Would find a way to steal Reader into their room if they knew they wouldn't face the wrath of the feral kids
• Rogue and Evan would just lay down without asking or taking no for for answer, and making themselves comfortable. They don't care what anyone says, for once Reader isn't aware enough enough run or hide, so they're hugging them, no ifs, ands, or buts
• The Professor would have pictures taken. He'd He'd also have Hank/Beast working on a new drug/medicine for the ferals, to help them fall into their instincts and to feel happy and calm. Is also able to read Reader's mind for once, since their mental walls are down, so he looks through everything that has happened to them, from their past to the after their escape to the present time
• Magneto would try to move Reader to his and his kids special room, then finds that he has to fight every feral and sleepy kid who joined them (even if they weren't allowed in the special feral room)
• Hank/Beast is working on a new set of drugs, sedatives, and medicines for the Reader and other ferals, to help them fall into their instincts easier, to help them feel calm, even to make them a little loopy/to lower their shields a bit. He asks if he can join, and when he promises to make an extra tracking device for Reader, is let into the snuggle pile
• Storm is let in, no questions asked, as Wolverine and Laura and Evan like her and view her as family. And because she could drop a snowstorm on Wolverine and Sabretooth and make it so she was the only adult allowed to be with the kids. So no one stops her if she joins them
• Mystique would try and sneak in. She wouod be caught, and depending on who catches her, woukd either be allowed to stay or (politely) thrown out
• The innocent teens (Kurt, Kitty, Toad, Fred, and Lance) would want to join, despite not knowing Reader well. They would be asked to wait a bit, and let the adults see if Reader will be up to it later (they want to make sure the drug/sedative still works well enough, and make sure Reader doesn't feel freaked out over having new packmates)
• Gambit, Colossus, Pyro, and Tabby are told they can join the other teens while waiting, and that in a few days they'll try and see if Reader is still up for it
• The ferals eventually say "scr*w it!" and kick everyone out, since they want time with THEIR cub/littermate, and everyone else can have their turn once they've had their's. They want to enjoy being with Reader, especially since they feel extra guilt at being related to Reader yet never helping them when they needed it most. So if they can offer comfort and warmth (and the adults can nurse them), then they'll take that chance
• The photos of sleeping Reader become trading cards, and soon, everyone tries to get photos of Reader when they're relaxed or just unaware. What can they say? They're cute, even if they are rather skittish and act like a (literal) feral kitten who's never been hugged. Of course, they now need to hide the cards from Reader, so as not to seem weird or even more avoided than they already are...
(Whoops! I, um... maaaybe did this for the ❄Milky Snow🍼 AU)... But it CAN be read for ❄Fallen Snow🩸 AU, too... Whichever one you prefer!!)
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jessefandomunited · 9 months
Text
Alone for Christmas
It's Christmas Eve and you realize that there is no way you'll be able to see your parents this year on such short notice. Luckily it seems like someone else dosent have plans either and it may just be someone you've had a crush on for a while.
Spencer x GN reader - no smut just probably some snuggles and kisses
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Christmas had come too quickly this year, and while working at the BAU was rewarding it was ridiculously hard , especially during this time of year. I called my parents a few times and told them that unfortunately the case we were on was running long and I couldn't get a flight out in time. They told me that we would just have to have Christmas whenever I could make it over, which made me smile.
" hey did you hear ," Penelope asked as I slowly came back to reality. " Hu...oh uh no sorry I was spaced out," I said nervously. "Well they got him! They'll be home by Christmas Eve," she cheered . I smiled ," that's great but I literally have nothing to do now," I sighed leaning back in my chair. She thought a moment," well... I mean... Spencer is probably free." I could feel heat creeping up my neck, " so." She rolled her eyes," SOOOOO ask him out come on you have movie nights all the time what's so different about this?" " it's CHRISTMAS EVE that's the difference, I maybe will ask him to hang out but the last thing I want is for this to be a day where I lost my best friend due to a little crush," I insisted. She nodded," okay fiiine, me and my guy can drop by and give you some of the dinner I cooked , I always make too much anyway." I smiled," sure that would be great."
Everyone was back and I was drumming nervously on the strap of my back pack. I didn't think he would say no but my mind always jumped to the worst case scenario. " welcome back guys," Garcia greeted causing me to almost jump out of my skin. I looked up and locked eyes with Spencer. I forced a smile and waved. " relax," I heard Garcia whispering as she gently nudged me towards him. I walked over and said ," hey, how was the trip." " it was great we made better time than most trips, I thought we would be snowed in. You know the clouds are the best indicator a storm is coming" I was once again in the Spencer trance. While most people told him to hurry up or get to the point I was stuck enraptured by his words. His voice his passion everything, he was wonderful. " so do you have plans for Christmas," he asked. The question threw me off and I almost didn't answer, I didn't expect that he would bring it up. " oh.. no I wasn't able to get tickets in time," I said beginning to massage my hands to ease my anxiety. He looked a little surprised," oh... well you know I don't have any plans either so we could have a Christmas movie night, I still havnt given you your Christmas present so it'll be perfect." My head was swirling and I felt like I ascended to cloud nine," yes , yeah that would be fun, you know Garcia said she would bring over some food too." " great it's settled I'll go home and grab some clothes and I'll meet you at your place in an hour 35 most likely ," he said scooping up his satchel," see you then" I waved then slumped into an unattended chair, he actually said yes.
I got home and decided to quickly make some of the tub chocolate chip cookies I have in my fridge as something to snack on while we watched a Christmas movie or two. I also stressed out way more than I should have deciding what pair of pjs to wear. I had a limited option but what combo of old shirt and pj pant truly said I'm secretly in love with you. After that I brought out a blanket for the couch and started to heat up milk on the stove to make hot chocolate. Even if there was no dramatic confession I was excited to spend time with him.
Almost exactly as he predicted I hear a light knock at the door one hour and 35 minutes after we had left the BAU. He had an overnight bag and a huge grocery bag as well. " wow what's all this I said helping him with his things. " well I thought we could decorate gingerbread house while we were watching Christmas movies ," he said beaming. My heart almost melted , he brought a secondary activity. " oooOo cookies and hot chocolate," he said excitedly, " perfect! Have you decided which movie we're watching first?" I nodded," it's kind of embarrassing but I havnt watched white Christmas yet and I really love it." He nodded," that's a great choice I love those old musicals. If you want to start it up I'll get the gingerbread houses sorted." I agreed and put on the movie.
Soon enough we were annoyingly singing the songs while we made our houses and drank our filll of hot coco. I tried my best to make the house as good as possible but it still ended up pretty sloppy. After we migrated over to the couch and settled in. We watched the muppet la Christmas carol which Spencer insisted was a must , then home alone, and then we were both fast asleep.
I woke up to the smell of bacon wafting through the air and Christmas music was playing on the radio. I smiled and checked my phone before fully waking up. Garcia sent a text that said " merry Christmas I'll be over at about 11 TELL HIM" I said merry Christmas to her and maybe. As I sat up I noticed there was a plate of half eaten cookies by the small tree I had that now had two presents beneath it. I chuckled, " looks like Santa came aye?" He glanced over ," would you look at that he did!" " thanks for making breakfast," I said stretching. " no problem at all, Thankyou for offering your home to me," he said smiling . I took a cup and poured some coffee in before sitting at the table and gazing outside at the sparkling snow covering the roads, everything seemed so still. And I felt like I did need to tell Spencer, today, now. " hey uh Spence," I asked looking over . He had two plates that he picked up and plopped in front of each of us, " yes?" I poked at my eggs and took a deep breath before saying, " if I say this can you promise our friendship we will be there." He got a worried look on his face as he said , " it depends but I believe so." I swallowed, " ever since i met you I think .... I liked you, like .. maybe even loved. I've had some issues in the past so I didn't think you would like me back. So I hid it. But it's eating me up inside and I'm fine if you don't like me back we can still be friends but I had to tell you." He didn't answer and I risked a glance up at him. He was shocked and his face was beat red, " really?" I nodded anticipating a smooth rejection. " I thought ... you only liked me as a friend too, I ... feel the same way," he stumbled over his words but it seemed to be from excitement. My eyes widened," is .. is that a yes... are we like together?" He laughed, " yes please." We both got up and embraced eachother, I felt tears come out as we stayed there. We both pulled back a bit and kissed. It was better than I thought it would be. He was more forceful than I expected his hands pulling me closer to him, we probably would have stayed like that longer if it wasn't for a kick at the door. It was 11, garcia had impeccable timing. I walked over and opened the door to an overjoyed Garcia who hugged me immediately," did you do it." I nodded and her eyes lit up she looked from me to Spencer , " are you guys?" Spencer tried to hide a smile but also just sheepishly nodded. She squealed in delight and ran over to hug him to, her boyfriend trailing behind her with food and gifts.
The rest of the day was wonderfully lazy. We ate with Garcia and her boyfriend who left quickly after to see his parents. Then we made out a bit more before remembering our presents. We sat underneath the tree and exchanged our presents. I had clumsily attempted to make him some crocheted socks (mismatched of course) but I also got him a first addition copy of " the blind banker" which he was ecstatic about. For me he had remembered how much I loved his 4th doctor scarf and made me one too. I was over the moon and gave him the tightest hug I could.
The rest of the evening we put on various Christmas movies and cuddled and talked. It was wonderful. I was overjoyed at how well this turned out. I honestly could not have been happier than I was now
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moremaybank · 2 years
Note
Can you do a Christmas smut with Klaus X witch reader and Klaus fucks her out of jealousy/anger. Also, can he tie her up with his own black suit tie? Love your work! <3
TINSEL & TIES — k.m
pairing klaus mikaelson x fem!witch!reader
summary after an argument, you try to make klaus jealous. in return, klaus has to let you know just how wrong that decision was.
warnings 18+, unprotected sex, bdsm (reader is tied, gagged and restrained), clit-slapping, orgasm denial, face-fucking, cum-swallowing, klaus being tied and gagged at the end, i think that’s it
author's note merry (belated) christmas. this is six days late, but who’s counting? (me. i’m counting. and the guilt is immeasurable) but anyways please enjoy :)
klaus masterlist
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the compound looked magical.
warm white lights were strung carefully around the staircases alongside garland that complimented the extravagant christmas tree. poinsettias were laced through the lights and garland. mistletoe hung in strategic locations, a part of klaus's holiday shenanigans. the sweet aroma of baked holiday goods roamed through the air, and fake snow — provided by a spell of your own making — was littered everywhere, making it feel like a white christmas.
everything was perfect, courtesy of you. so it really was a shame that you didn't get the opportunity to enjoy it.
"you're being ridiculous! i put this entire party together, down to every last ornament hanging on that gorgeous tree downstairs. i'm not gonna sit out on my favourite holiday just because you're being paranoid!"
klaus sighed in exasperation, "i'm not being paranoid! i'm playing it safe. excuse me for trying to protect you from the countless enemies i have roaming about this city."
"well, whose fault is that? all you've done over the thousand years you've walked on this earth is turn everyone against you. this is your own fault. i don't deserve to be punished for your mistakes, klaus!"
klaus takes a step closer to you, the aggravation growing more apparent as the seconds ticked by.
"i'd hardly consider taking preventative measures to ensure your safety to be a punishment, y/n."
you rolled your eyes. it was a regular occurrence for klaus to treat you as if you were helpless and weak. it irked you to your core, and tonight, you'd had enough.
"i am so sick and tired of you breathing down my neck. you seem to forget that i can protect myself against anyone who dares to come at me. i am one of the most powerful witches this city has ever seen. i don't need you to babysit me, and i certainly don't need you to treat me as if i'm defenceless."
you shoved past him, shoulder hitting against his as you tried to storm out of your shared bedroom. klaus's hand clasped around your elbow, though, preventing you from making your escape.
"and just where do you think you're going?" klaus questioned, giving you a look of warning.
"downstairs. who knows, maybe i'll meet someone who respects me enough to let me fight my own battles. it'd be ten times better than having my boyfriend treat me like a child," you respond bitterly, "and maybe they'll also be able to make me come, unlike some people here."
it was a low blow and an untruthful one at that, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. it was exhausting having the person you love to act as if you were a burden. and on top of that, it's even worse when you feel as though they constantly undermine your strength.
so, there you were, flirting with a random party-goer who had absolutely no chance with you.
to be quite frank, what you really wanted to do was spend time with klaus. you wanted to dance with him, your bodies pressed close as you felt his undead heartbeat thump against your living one. to feel his hand stroke the small of your back as you two whispered sweet nothings to each other. to bask in the simple intimacy of holding him close to you. but he'd spoiled your mood, and in turn, you refused to be near him.
klaus's eyes had been daggering you two all night, no doubt making good use of his vampire-enhanced hearing abilities as he eavesdropped on your shameless teasing as the hours went by.
he was angry with you, there was no question, but all he could think about was that handsome stranger kissing you in places only klaus had kissed. touching you in places only klaus had touched. breaking you down until you were a mess in his arms as you cried out his name. it was taking everything in him to not tear his heart out of that man's chest and serve it to you on a silver platter.
klaus watched as you stroked the man's arm, fingers lingering over the material of his far less fancy suit as you laughed at his poor excuse of a joke. klaus then slammed his empty glass down on the bar after he chugged the contents of it down his throat, walking over you to and clutching your arm.
"if you don't back off my girl within the next five seconds, your head will be on a spike for everyone here to see. understand?"
the man gulped, nodding without a word before disappearing into the crowd.
you turned to klaus, irritated beyond measure. he was causing a scene — a pointless one — all because of the jealousy that coursed through his veins. before you had a chance to say anything, klaus was dragging you out of the party and up the stairs. once you two had reached your bedroom, he slammed the door and shoved you against it.
"you want to fight your own battles? to force me to watch you lead on some imbecile solely because you're angry with me? fine. that just means you'll take your punishment like a good girl, doesn't it?"
as angry as you were, klaus's words were soiling your panties as he stared down at you. his angry side in the bedroom had always been something you considered to be a blessing, and this time it was no different.
his hand came up to your neck, fingers squeezing your throat when you failed to answer, lost in your own thoughts. "you'd do well to answer me, sweetheart."
"yes, klaus. i will."
"good answer."
and with that, he spun you around, your front pushed flush against the wooden door as klaus's hands ripped the corset of your dress apart with one swift motion. your dress dropped to the floor, pooling around your high-heel-clad ankles. klaus's thick digits wrapped around your hip bones, digging into your skin as he pulled you against him. you could feel his length, hard and throbbing through the material of his suit pants, and it sent butterflies into your core. he was so close, yet so far, and it already had you reeling.
in a flash, you were on the bed, your back against the plush duvet as klaus towered over you. his fingers worked to remove the tie around his neck. when he was finished, he clasped your wrists together with one hand, drawing them to the headboard and securing them in place with the tie. he leaned back to admire his work.
your dress had done wonders for your cleavage, so you'd opted to go braless for the night. you'd also decided against panties because pre-argument-you had hoped to eliminate as many obstacles at the end of the night when klaus would inevitably have you at his mercy. in hindsight, you'd wished you'd worn a damn chastity belt to make things harder for him. your anger was diminishing slowly, but it was still present.
klaus's gaze drank in the sight of you, completely bare and exposed for him. he could sense your arousal from his place at the edge of the bed, and he wanted nothing more than to ravish you in every way possible. he wanted to fulfill your every desire; it was just the way he was. but he also wouldn't let you get away with your attitude and teasing so easily. he was still klaus. he relished in taking his revenge, and it was no different when it came to your treatment in the bedroom. especially when you pushed his buttons.
"i don't think your restrained wrists are enough for me. i do need to teach you a lesson after all."
"jealousy doesn't suit you, mister mikaelson."
"oh, darling. you haven't seen anything yet."
klaus disappeared into the closet, quickly finding three more neck-ties to bind you with. he returned, watching your brows furrow in confusion as he grabbed a hold of one of your ankles.
"as angry as i am, these shoes look gorgeous on you. i think we'd better leave them on," he spoke, bending your leg toward you as he tied your ankle to the headboard. he did the same to the other, and when he got to the last remaining tie, he tied it around the back of your head, gagging you.
the sight of you tied up, your body practically bent in half with each of your legs on either side of your restrained wrists, ready to be used by him...it was all too much. he could feel the madness, the dominant and possessive side of him fully present.
"here's what's going to happen. you'll let me fuck you just the way i want to without using any magic whatsoever to your advantage. disobey me, and you won't get to come tonight. are we clear?"
you gave him a glare, nodding angrily at him. he had you bound and gagged, for christ's sake. it was all you could do.
"good."
klaus began to strip himself of the remaining pieces of his suit, hearing each thump of your heart grow louder and louder as he revealed every inch of his bare skin to you. he climbed back on top of you, fully exposed as his flesh pressed against yours.
goosebumps spread over your skin in anticipation as his lips adorned your neck, nibbling harshly as he sucked love bites into your skin. you tried to hiss through the gag that kept your mouth open wide but to no avail. all you could manage was to pant heavily at the contact. you ached to touch him. to run your hands through his curls. to claw at the flesh of his back. to wrap your legs around his hips and tug his bottom half further into yours as he expressed his love to you through his actions. but alas, you couldn't.
as if he read your mind, his hips ground into your exposed and dripping core. the tip of his length brushed past your entrance, both of you jerking at the near intrusion.
"i'm going to wreck you. i want you to regret even conjuring the thought of someone making you come as hard as i do. we both know that no one could ever compare to me."
his lips trailed down your chest, leaving more love bites across your bare chest. he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue flicking it as he created the same motion on the other with his fingers. your chest heaved, already so far gone.
unbeknownst to you, he sunk his tip inside of you, the relief not quite enough to satiate your yearning for him. then, he buried himself inside of you with a harsh slam of his hips. you whimpered around the gag as he started to move mercilessly, leaving you no time to adjust to his monstrous cock.
"bloody hell, that mouth of yours never fails to get you into trouble, but without it, i wouldn't be able to rip you apart until you're begging for mercy."
klaus's teeth were gritted, the anger bleeding through his expressions and rough actions. his hand found your throat, fingers squeezing as he rutted into you deeper and harsher than ever before. his vampire abilities were on his side now more than ever, the speed of his thrusts quite literally inhumane.
"you're mine. mine to protect, and to love, and to fuck. mine to punish as i see fit. and the next time you force me to watch you flirt with a man who could never own you like i do, i'll do a whole lot more than just tie you up."
his tone was raspy, coated with jealousy but also with a certain want, and it made your toes curl as you took all of him inside of you again and again.
your wrists and ankles felt ached already, the fabric of the ties rubbing your skin raw and leaving behind red marks around them. but you didn't care. you couldn't focus on anything else as klaus fucked your brains out, watching him angrily mutter things to himself as he pulled your body against his to meet his movements. immense pleasure coursed through you as klaus's cock plunged deep into your core.
klaus brought a hand down to your lower stomach, pressing down as he thrusted and thrusted. you could feel every ridge and vein that adorned his length rub against that sweet spot inside of you. your legs were trembling on either side of you, as much as they could while being bound to the headboard.
without warning, he slapped your clit harshly as he fucked you, your hips jerking at the sudden strike. your walls clamped down on his length as if to keep him inside, and your cream began to coat klaus's cock. you hadn't come yet, but you were damn close, and klaus knew that.
"always so responsive. you drive me absolutely mad, did you know that?" he spoke, his hand slapping your clit again repeatedly. you were writhing beneath him, though you were folded and restrained. klaus, who had memorized all your tells when it came to you reaching your high, knew that you were right on the brink, and he smirked as he pulled out of you. "it's too bad that you won't get to come tonight."
he then yanked on the tie that gagged you, casting it behind him as he crawled on top of you. in a matter of seconds, his hand was sliding his aching member down your throat. your mouth was stuffed with him, even though it was still sore from the tie. the corners of your lips burned as he began to fuck your face, balls slapping against your chin as he forced you to take all of him down your airway.
tears brimmed in your eyes as he now held your head in place with both of his hands, and you gagged around him. you struggled for air, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you looked up at klaus with your big doe eyes.
he was biting his lip, fingers threading through your hair and tugging as he brought himself to his orgasm. he let out a groan, his hips starting to stutter as he let the hot ropes of his cum slide down the back of your throat. you could see his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, and he pulled out of you slowly. he looked down at you once more, his thumb stroking over your wet lips.
he went to speak, but he was cut off when he heard you breathe out what sounded like a spell. he knew he'd heard you correctly when the ties that bound you to the bed gave out instantly. your limbs sprang free, and as soon as you could, you pushed klaus beneath you and used your magic to restrain his own hands. you also gagged him with the tie he'd used on your mouth, and you could see the fury in his eyes.
he mumbled something through the tie, much like you had earlier, and his frustration bled through his barely-formed words.
“i could tell you really needed that, so i let you have your fun. but now…” you paused, your hand coming up to his throat, “it’s my turn to take what i want.”
~
klaus tag list (join here!): @princess-charming-01 @maybankslover @trenchmaniac @techlipse @the-kaya-aa @catmikaelson20 @hopesdadswife @amournoir @skydisneylover @kittyqrt @Iluvniklaus @diyabhanushali1 @your_best_hoe
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Imagine Shanks saving you from hypothermia
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You and Shanks: *get separated from the rest of the crew during a snow storm*
Shanks: *shielding his eyes from the snow and tries to yell over the howling wind* This storm is getting worse, get over here, we need to stick together. I don't want you getting lost!
You: *hears a crack under your feet* what was that!
Shanks: Fuck, we're wandered onto ice! Move very slowly, and grab my hand!
You: *falls through the ice when you reach for his outstretched hand*
Shanks: No! *Dives into the water after you, and pulls you from the icy depths and looks around* damn it, we need to find shelter!
You: Look over there, there's a cabin!
Shanks: Good eyes kid, let's get a moving. *Activates his armament haki, and wades through the snow and carries your frozen form in his arms*
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When he gets you through the door
Shanks: *looks down and notices that your lips, nose, and fingertips are starting to get discolored from the cold, and your eyes are unfocused* oi oi, stay with me kid!
You: it's hot *starts to pull off your coat*
Shanks: *jumps into action and throws you onto the couch, and races to get a fire lit, breaking furniture to use as kindling*
You: *has already pulled off almost every article of wet clothing*
Shanks: *pulls his own clothing off and piles the cushions from the couch in front of the fire place* come ere you
You: *slaps his hands away* no it's too hot to cuddle.
Shanks: you little brat, fine, you leave me no other choice. *Fishes through a linen closet and pulls out a bunch of blankets. Most of which he uses to make a little nest, and one he wraps you up in like a burrito, and drags you to to the spot he prepared in front of the fire and gets on top of you. So you are trapped between him and a bunch of pillows.*
You: *struggles against him* Let me go, you big idiot.
Shanks: *gently bites your palm as you press your hand against his face*
You: *yanks your hand away and whines* get off of me you big jerk.
Shanks: I need you to trust me, when I say this really is in your best interest.
You: but
Shanks: Please
You: *sulks* fine
Shanks: atta girl *pulls off your underwear set and throws them over his shoulder as he gets comfortable on top of your shivering form.*
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A few hours later
You: *wakes up feeling the drastic and uncomfortable difference between your cold body, and your sweltering surroundings, and opens your eyes in an unfamiliar place* hmm what happened?
Shanks: *lifts his head off your chest and looks down at you* finally awake, huh?
You: captain? Where are we?
Shanks: At an old hunting cabin, you fell through the ice and passed out.
You: what ice?
Shanks The ice of the frozen lake we accidentally stumbled on, but it's nothing to worry about. We'll reunite with the rest of the crew in a few days. They'll actually probably find us first... Anyway, how are you feeling? *Absentmindedly rubs his knuckles against your chest*
You: *gasps did you undress me?!
Shanks: *chuckles* didn't need to, practically couldn't get you to keep them on soon as I started building the fire. But they needed to come off anyway, they were wet, as were mine.
You: *realize what that means and is very self-conscious*
Shanks: *sees right through you.* You have nothing to worry about dear, you're beautiful, and I am not going to do anything without permission, at least nothing beyond keeping you warm.
You: ... You're heavy
Shanks: *snorts* Pouting was not the reaction I was expecting. *Hooks an arm under you and flips the two of you over, so you were resting on his chest.*
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Two hours later
Shanks: I'm hungry.
You: I had some rations in pack, they should still be good if they didn't get wet.
Shanks: *slides out from under you and walks over to the couch where your clothes are, unabashed of his nudity.* Sweet, it's dry.
Benn: *bursts through the door* Boss!
Shanks: oh hey buddy
Benn: *sees his nude captain, and you, covering yourself by the fire,* I'm sorry, I'll come back later *slowly closes the door*
You: you're misreading the situation! Shanks go get him.
Shanks: *laughing too hard*
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581 notes · View notes
nobadyasked · 7 months
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First snow, hot choco
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Pairing: non.idol!Niki × non.idol!reader
Genre: fluff
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Oh it was cold. It was a snowy storm. White nothing was the only thing seen out of the classroom window.
- We have physics class today, right?- she asked turning to him.
- nope- he said not even looking in her eyes. Obviously it was something he did. How could they randomly cancel the class.
- we do actually- a guy from the back answered.
- why are you lying? - she asked with the gaze of a murderer.
- I'm not. WE I mean me and you. We're not going to that class toda- and that's when she interrupted him
- what do you mean? You never asked me if I wanted to skip the class? Is thi- she was stopped by him smashing his lips on hers
- can you shut up and listen for once?- he said pulling off- I talked to the teacher. We're going somewhere better.
Soon she was dragged out of the building. The cold air hitting her soft cheeks making them even more red. They walked to somewhere she didn't know.
- where are you taking me?- she said trying to move her hair away from her face
- I'm taking to a basement so no one can hear you while I chop your head off- he said with a loving smile and moved that strand of hair behind her ear.
- finally- she murmured
- I'm joking, let's go to the rooftop again
.....
-Don't mind him okay? -he assured her while cupping her rosy cold cheeks
- yeah, it would be great if we got to the rooftop- she sighed remembering how an old man scolded both of them- it's really cold tho- she complained again rubbing her hands together with the hope of getting a little warmer. Well it started to snow unexpectedly. And they weren't prepared.
- you know what?- he said after looking at his shoes for a while- let's get hot chocolate. How does that sound?
- I like it- she said smiling
- well then, catch me if you can Mrs. Shortie- he said and started running away From her
-and I'm in love with him- she mumbled to herself and started chasing him
Soon after they were at the cafe waiting for their order
- here, this is yours- he said handing her the paper cup. The smell had filled their lungs ( just like the love their hearts)
- let's go outside
She sipped her chocolate as he watched her with loving eyes. A little bit of chocolate was left on her upper lip. "Cute" he thought to himself. He didn't even tell her about that. He liked how messy she could be with him. He looked at her soft hair that now had tiny snowflakes. And that's when it hit him. It's the first snow if the year. That means they'll last forever.
- it's still cold- she started complaining again, not liking the sudden change of weather at all.
- let's go to the store while I catch you a taxi
- you really don't have to
- come onnn. Let me do my job- that was the moment when she realised he's her man. Her one and only. Only hers and no one elses. Those thoughts made her smile unconsciously.
- it's almost here. Now my treat- he said looking up from his phone
- what? - she made her iconic confused face. Oh how much he loved her small cute face that was able to show the emotions she'd never talk about.
- my treat
- you want... A kiss?
- yes please and faster the driver is waiting- he said as she tiptoed to connect their lips.
- now go- he slightly pushed he to the car. As the Gentleman he is he payed for her drive and now was waiting for her text
*chat*
You: I hate you
Niki: what's wrong pretty
You: there is a big choco stain on my upper lip, and you didn't even say a thing
Niki: you were too cute
You: you're no help you know?
Niki: but you still love me
You: thank you for today
Niki: of course, it was the first snow
You: I hate the snow
Niki: and I love you too
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93 notes · View notes
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|| Rough Road ||
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Frank Castle x female Reader.
Tags/warnings: 'annoying acquaintances of circumstance' to lovers, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected sex (wrap in RL!), swears 😯
Author's note: This is for the TFC December fic challenge 'Snowed In', so check the tags for more!
If you enjoy my fics please consider reblogging, it means others get to enjoy them too! Thank you so much for reading! 💕
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"I think we should try and find somewhere to pull over." you say to Frank. You had been driving for hours and the snow was coming down harder now.
"Mm, I'm pretty sure there's a motel about 15 miles ahead, we can make it, get a couple of rooms and start again in the morning." He replies, concentrating on the road.
You stare up through the windscreen at the neverending horizonless thick grey-white of the sky and the flurry of heavy flakes building up on the road ahead of you. "I don't think we'll make it that far."
Sure enough after another couple miles the road became impassable, you had hardly seen any other cars ahead of you or coming the other way for most of the drive. It was gonna get dark fairly soon.
"Shit." Frank says simply, turning off the ignition after he stopped the van at the side of the road.
"Thank fuck I've got cell service" you say, "I'm gonna call for a truck."
While you were on the phone Frank checked his paper maps for the nearest habitations, but there was nothing that warranted risking trying to walk through a snowstorm at night.
"Okay, the rescue company is dealing with shitloads of people in similar situations and 'cos we've got a van and some supplies they're saying we're further down the list. Earliest they could get to us is tomorrow morning."
"Alright, well they'll probably have cleared the roads by then. Guess that ain't too bad. Just gotta hunker down for the night."
You kicked at the dash in frustration. "Urgh. I told you we should've left after the storm, now we're stuck here in your stupid van, which stinks by the way."
"Stinks?" He screwed up his face in disbelief. "What of? I keep it clean!"
"Of you!"
"Listen, as much as you're a complete pain in my ass it was too dangerous to wait in the city any longer. Now the Russians associate you with me…"
You threw your head back against the rest and sighed. "Yeah. I know. Just gotta lay low for a while." you parroted.
"This ain't exactly my idea of heaven either sweetheart."
You hated when he called you that. Even though it was just an automatic thing for him and it didn't mean anything it really annoyed you. He reached into the back bringing out a pack of cards from the seemingly random selection of shit he had squirreled away there. "Imagine you don't wanna talk about what happened, so it's this or I-Spy."
You groaned and nodded as you whiled away an hour or so playing blackjack until your hungry stomach noises got too loud to ignore.
"Alright, chicken or beef sub?" he asked, diving into the backpack.
You chose the chicken.
"Damn, this is really good. You pick them up before we left? Where from?"
"Made em." He replied, taking a bite of his own.
"Huh." You mused, digging in again.
"Surprised I can make a sandwich?" He scoffs.
You shrug. "Surprised you can make a good sandwich. Guess being ex-marine you gotta have some talents."
"You got no idea." He throws you a wink as he takes a sip of coffee from the thermos and you roll your eyes.
After another hour of whooping his ass at blackjack and a lightning quick excursion into the nearby trees and back to relieve yourself, your yawns and heavy eyelids make it clear that you're gonna have to go to sleep at some point soon.
"Does one of us, uh, need to keep watch or something?" You ask him, watching as he crawls into the back of the van and starts digging out a mat, a singular sleeping bag and blanket.
"Nah. Even if they did send someone to follow us ain't nobody getting through this, we're safe enough." He rolled out the bag and caught your awkward look.
You wrapped your arms around you, it was getting cold now the residual heat from the van had disappated. "So… just the one lot of bedding then?"
He nods. "Yeah, usually just me in here y'know, with all my stank."
You rolled your eyes again. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."
He has to resist the urge to let you panic about sleeping beside him for a while longer, he's not that cruel. "It's okay, you can have it. I'll be alright up front." He sees your visible relief as you process what he's said, nodding and rummaging in your pack for the toothbrush and toiletries you'd thankfully picked up at your last gas stop, there having been no time to grab anything but the absolute ultimate essentials before you left.
The thick layer of snow that had built up around and on top of the van probably provided quite a bit of insulation, but that didn't exactly stop you from being fucking freezing. You tried to snuggle up deeper into the sleeping bag, all your clothes and a beanie on and the blanket on the top, but you were still cold. You tilted your head up to glance at Frank in the passenger seat, still awake with his jacket on and arms wrapped around himself tight, the occasional puff of his breath misting the air.
"You awake?" You ask, already knowing he was.
"Yeah. You alright?"
"Cold."
"Yeah."
The silence between you seemed to stretch on forever. You pull the blanket tighter around you.
Fuck it. "Uh, if you want, you could come back here, share the blanket? And y'know, body heat will help I guess."
"Thought you couldn't stand my stink?" He throws back at you.
"Well, the cold is kinda trumping that, but it's fine if you don't wanna… just thought it is your stuff after all, don't wanna put you out of your own van."
"Nah, s'good idea." he agrees, climbing into the back with you. You shiver at the initial chill as he lifts the edge of the blanket to lie next to you, your back to his. His jacket is cold against you but after a while you began to warm up, stopping your shivering and finding yourself drifting easily to sleep.
When you wake up it's still dark but you're warm, hot even. As you gradually gain a bit more consciousness you realise that the reason is because Frank has you in a bear hug. He must have turned around in his sleep. His arm is draped over you, big hand splayed over your stomach pulling you impossibly close to him. The only skin contact is his nose at the back of your neck, the warm exhales tickling the light hair there.
It's… pleasant, maybe even something more. He actually smells good. You smile to yourself thinking about the juxtaposition of this killing machine, this angry guard dog let off the chain being a big soft snuggly puppy of a man behind closed doors.
You shift slightly in his hold and then freeze.
Okay, maybe not so soft…
Despite the layers of clothing and a sleeping bag between you, it's unmistakable that it's his cock that's hard and pressing against your ass. You try to rationalise. It's just a normal bodily response after all, but do you dare move? What if he wakes up and it gets awkward, you've got a lot of driving still to do if this snow ever clears…
Any control is taken away from you as Frank stretches momentarily and then wraps you even tighter in his arms, his nose nuzzling into your skin and hips slowly grinding against you with a quiet contented moan. He suddenly stops, pulls away as he wakes and realises where he is, where you are, and what he's doing.
"Shit, fuck…" he turns away from you as he sits up scrubbing his hand over his face. "I'm sorry, I uh… it's uh, been a while since… y'know?"
The blanket rustles softly as you shrug.
"Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" He cuts himself off as his eyes adjust to the darkness, his ears registering the sound of the sleeping bag zip being opened and his gaze finding the smallest glimmer of soft light reflected in your own.
"It's okay. S'been a while for me too," you admit. This might be the stupidest decision you've ever made when it comes to sex, or even when it comes to roadtrips, but you can't seem to override it. Not when he looks at you like that, smells like that, makes you feel like that. He saved your life but you don't think that's all it is.
You slough off your defensive dislike and begin to embrace something that at least feels real.
His face is a picture in the dim snow-reflected light within the van as you reach for him, pulling his warmth and his lips towards you. He's taken aback, but his hand cups your jaw and you find yourself surprised by the tenderness with which his mouth meets your own. You don't waste a second, catching his wrist and guiding him down to palm over your chest, quickly leading his hand under the waistband of your pants so he can feel just how much he's affected you in this short space of time. It's like you're trying not to have the time to think about it. You both carry ghosts from your past that you've never openly shared, but you know, simply from the slight hesitation in his touch even as you urge him on.
The tender kisses soon heat up. "Call me sweetheart again." You breathe against his mouth, and he groans deep as his fingers meet with the wetness at your core. Your own hands explore underneath his jacket, fingers feeling the hard muscle of his chest under his shirt. You reach down to cup his cock through his jeans and then tug at them, moaning as he hurries to unbutton your pants so he can swipe his fingers through your slick folds. His mouth is on your skin, hungry to taste more of you as you scrabble to undo his pants too, urging them and his underwear down just enough to free his gloriously erect cock. He helps you wriggle halfway out of your pants too and now you're jacking each other off like a couple of teenagers, his fingers slippery and desperate over your throbbing clit, and yours covered with sticky precum as you wrap your hand around and stroke him.
"Oh shit…" you whine, as he skillfully brings you closer to the edge, your hips moving against his hand as he watches you. You forget the cold, gasping as he slips a finger inside you, your grip tightening around his cock making him grunt in such a delicious way that you can't help the words spilling from your lips.
"Frank, fuck me, please!" You're begging, you've never begged for anything other than to stay alive, but you need this, you want to feel him inside you, there's nothing else that will satisfy the ache.
He pauses, staring at you like you've just proposed or something. It takes him a hot minute to register what you're saying, but once those words sear into his brain he moves fast, lips sucking and kissing at the skin of your neck like a brand as he yanks your pants all the way down and off, his mouth following. He pushes up your shirt when he gets to the hem, his tongue trailing right up the centerline of your body to your bra where he mouths over the curve of your breasts before pulling down a cup. You arch your back as he takes your peaked nipple between his lips before he continues downward.
You claw at his shoulders as his nose bumps at the front of your underwear, just giving your clit the barest pressure, teasing you instead of giving you what you need, but you soon change your mind as he hooks his fingers under the elastic pulling them off you so he can bury his face in your pussy. He presses your thighs apart, holding you down as your hips try to rise up to meet the mind melting sensation of his tongue on you, in you. You moan, curse, and praise him as he quickly stokes your need and desire into a sharp dense point where you can do nothing else but implode in on yourself, screaming his name as he makes you feel.
He rises from between your thighs, licking his glistening lips with a small smile. It looks good on him.
"You alright, sweetheart?"
"Getting warmer, could be better." You throw back as you catch your breath and return the smile, yanking him back over you and using your feet to help him push his pants all the way off. When you take him in your hand again his gaze flits between your eyes and your mouth, which he claims in a hot kiss as you guide him to you, reveling in the feeling of the head of his thick cock spearing inside your heat.
"God damn." is all he can say, and you can only agree as he repeats it like a mantra as the slow slide of his cock filling and stretching your cunt has your eyes almost rolling back into your head with a long and loud moan.
You wrap your legs around his waist as he rolls his hips into you, the mental and physical battle he's fighting between going slowly, gently, and pounding you fucking senseless is palpable. He's drawing out sounds that you would never even make when you're alone. It might just be because you haven't had any form of touch from anyone for a long time, but you're more certain that it's all him that's making you flustered, hitting all your spots and stripping you down to a bare wire of being with nothing but his soft dark eyes.
That growling, barking, flesh-ripping fighting dog is still there underneath, you can feel how he holds it inside himself, yanking at the chain and always ready to be released when there's a need. The fact that he's driven you out of the city is proof that he actually cares what the fuck happens to you, and that sort of blows your mind. You could have easily gone alone, you were ready to jump on a Greyhound and make your own way but he wouldn't have it. He made you his responsibility. Yeah he was a killer but he was also a protector. Your protector.
He wasn't much of a talker but with his dick buried inside you he's soon gritting out reams of praise that have you clenching around him and mewling as his hand squeezes over the firm curve of your ass.
"Feel so good girl, s'fucking tight…"
You inhale sharply as he reaches between your hot skin to find your clit and ensure that you feel what he's feeling. Your fingernails graze over his scalp and the short hair at the nape of his neck as you pull him even closer, your second orgasm building up fast as he drives into you over and over.
"Ohh, god-"
"That's it sweet thing," he murmurs against your ear as the indescribable feeling of his cock dragging inside has you both on the very edge. "C'mon angel, such a good girl f'me."
You keen at the praise, something he'd unlocked from your subconscious with the simplest key, something even you didn't know you would react to. "Fuck… you're gonna make me-"
Frank feels you start to shake around him, moving his fingers even faster over that swollen little bundle of nerves. It's too much.
"Shit. You feel too fuckin' good, I gotta-" He moves to pull out suddenly and you claw at his ass stopping him before he does, you'll be damned if you don't feel him come inside you.
You whine as he stills. "Fuck! Don't stop, don't fucking stop…"
He looks for your assurance. "You sure? You want this?" his voice is quieter now, wavering. If you say yes he doesn't know that he'll last.
You nod frantically, tilting your hips up, wrapping your arms around his neck, the movement making him groan as you feel like utter heaven around him. He never thought you could be so soft, so open, needy.
The van rocks gently on its suspension as he resumes, every powerful thrust as he's fucking you punching such beautiful sounds from your throat. He can feel every gripping twitch of your perfect cunt as you begin falling apart underneath him, so tight, hot, and wet and quietly begging him to fill you. Your nails dig into the muscle of his huge shoulders and your mouth falls open, thighs tightening their hold around his waist as your moans crest. Don't stop, you told him, and he briefly wonders how he thought he ever could when you feel like this.
"Good girl, fuck- that's my good girl…" it's whispered and desperate, he's barely holding on by a hair.
The possessiveness in his words makes your eyes scrunch up tight and your body open. His cock is hitting you hard right where you need it, the focused touch of his fingers radiating out and burning you up.
"F-frank I-"
You unravel, crying out as you clench around him again and again as torrents of pleasure rip through your entire body. Your eyes fly open, locked on his, determined to witness how he might follow you into bliss. Your hips buck up chasing his own, his harsh warm breath washing over your skin with a deep, sensual moan as he finally lets go, pulsing inside you, not stopping the slowing, stuttering motion of his thrusts until he's given you absolutely everything he's got.
Laying there still entwined, a deep satisfying rumble from Frank's chest breaks the contrasting near-silence as he carefully rolls you on top of him and strokes his fingers lightly over your cheek and along your jaw, sliding them into your hair as his lips brush yours in a soft kiss.
"Frank..." you hum, your forehead resting on his. You can't stop your small nervous giggle as you're still unsure about what this is.
"Yeah." is all he says in return, his hands gliding down over your bare back and your hips, the sleeping bag and blankets forgotten now that inside the van had become a damn sight warmer. The windows with the covering of snow on the outside almost glow through the misting from your body heat on the inside of the glass. It's like you're trapped in a snowglobe. The image soon shatters as your mind clears from the dreamy fog of what you've just done.
"Shit. I-I'm sorry, I know that you-" you start to explain all the reasons that you know this is just a one-time thing, more for yourself than him, but he stops you before you can reel off the excuses.
"Hey," he says, gently catching your chin in his hand and running his fingers lightly over your skin. "We don't need to do all that shit, y'know?"
You can't help looking anywhere but in his eyes.
"Hey, c'mon, it's okay." He repeats.
You wish he wasn't like this, wish he would be colder with you, go back to the sniping, reluctant, thrown-together partnership, or whatever it was you had before. It takes effort but when you manage to meet the warmth of his gaze it feels like something you could get used to looking at.
"Look, it is what it is, yeah? I'm gonna keep you safe, no matter what."
You nod and allow him to pull you close to his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath and the thump of his heart through his ribcage.
"It is what it is," you murmur, your eyes growing heavy as you melt into sleep.
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Frank tags:
@divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados
@father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @phoebe-danvers @munsonownsmyass
565 notes · View notes
sspextkr · 9 months
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snowed in - gerard/gn! reader fluffmas ao3
A snow storm blows out the power, leaving you trapped in an ATM vestibule with a certain celebrity crush of yours. (Heavily inspired by that one episode of FRIENDS ngl)
meet cute, plotless/mostly fluff, celebrity/fan dynamic, takes place in '07 read here on tumblr v or on ao3 (link above ^)
"5.. 10.. 15.. 20.. Good." You mutter under your breath, counting the amount you had pulled out from your bank account out loud. One week until Christmas, and there's still lots of shopping to be done. The last stop on your list for the night is a hole in the wall comic store for your younger brother, who's into all sorts of nerdy comic-y things. You have no idea what you're doing or what to get him- Maybe they'll have a cool figurine or something. They only take cash for some reason too, meaning you had to stop by and pull some out.
Although, you're also beginning to wonder if you should go home and do this in the morning- The snow is only getting worse by the minute, and you don't want to risk anything going wrong. The power could go out at any moment- knock on wood- and this vestibule isn't the comfiest. The ATM's are running smoothly, and the doors are functioning with no problem, so things should run smoothly.
You pocket your cash before walking to the front, and pulling the door handle. Clunk. It doesn't open. Maybe it's a push? Clunk. Not a push either. Just as you're about to give the door handle another tug, the lights flicker, before shutting off.
"... Shit-" You grumble, running a hand through your hair. Well, there go your plans for the evening. You spoke too soon, it seems.
“Aw, crap-” An awfully familiar voice sighs from behind you as well. “Guess we’re stuck.”
You only hum in agreement, turning around only to find yourself face to face with Gerard fucking Way.
“Holy shit.”
Like many of your friends, you had discovered My Chemical Romance in your late middle school/early high school years and became a massive fan, downloading every song of theirs you could find and buying as many magazines that had them on the cover as your parents allowed you too. Now, a little older and a bit more mature, you grew out of your phase, but the celebrity crushes still remained- Were they as intense as they were when you were 15? No, but certain photos did get your heart fluttering a bit.
Gerard pulled out his phone from the pocket of his trench coat, walking a few steps away before speaking. “Hi, yeah- I’m okay, I’m okay- The power went out and I’m trapped in the vestibule.” He paused. 
Right. You should probably call your own family and let them know where you are. You felt around your pockets, only to remember that you left it at home. Well, shit.
“No, I’m not alone..” Gerard glanced at you briefly. “I don’t know. Some guy.”
“Ha. I’m some guy.. What the hell is wrong with me?”
He spoke a few more brief words before hanging up, then awkwardly clearing his throat and turning back towards you, holding out his phone. “Do you wanna call anyone?”
You took his phone with an equally awkward demeanor, and dialed your moms number- You were supposed to drop by for a family dinner after a quick shopping trip, but the snow decided that you had other plans. After listening to it ring for a while, it goes straight to voicemail. Gerard gives you a sympathetic glance as he takes his phone back, putting it in his pocket.
"I just called my mom from Gerard fucking Way's phone, no big deal at all-" Secretly, you wished your cousin, Sabrina, had answered. She was supposed to be there, too, and was a massive MCR fan a few years ago like yourself. She would've been great to ramble with about this.
Neither of you spoke a word for the majority of the time, the only sound being the violent storm passing by outside. You decided to take a seat against the wall, awkwardly tracing the floor tiles. Gerard had a few other calls, some made and some received- It sounded like Christmas stuff, mostly.
"Busy?" You asked out of nowhere after his third call.
He gave a tired chuckle and nodded. "Yeah.. Christmas is always a big time of year for me. I'm.. I don't want to sound like I'm bragging or boasting, but I'm.. Sort of a musician. A bit big- Too big, if you want my opinion. Always some merchandise bundle scandal to deal with, or a tour that collides with vacation time-" Gerard paused, cheeks going slightly red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling."
"No, no, it's okay. I asked, didn't I?" That seemed to calm him down a bit. "I've.. Heard of you before, I think. You're pretty good." 'Heard of you' was putting it lightly, but there's no way in hell you're going to come out as a superfan and risk embarrassing yourself in front of your teen hero.
"Ah.. Well, thanks. I appreciate it. Really." He smiled shyly, gaze still facing the ground. Your heart fluttered again. Jesus Christ. "What about you? You have anything going on?"
"I was supposed to be Christmas shopping. I came out here to pull out some money, but-" You gestured to the window showing off the blizzard outside. "Mother nature decided I had other plans."
"I get that." Gerard stepped closer to you, taking a seat beside you on the floor. Ho ho holy shit- "I wanted to do some shopping myself before I went home.. Came here to pull out some money. There's a comic store nearby that I like that only takes cash for some reason."
That caught your interest. "Spikes?"
He nodded, giving you another soft smile. "Yeah! You've been there?"
"Once or twice.." You brushed a loose strand of hair out of your face. "My brother is really into comics and superheroes and all that stuff.. I figured I'd stop by and see what I could find him. Too bad I don't know the first thing about comics."
"Lemme tell you, as a fellow comic book nerd, a figurine of his favorite character will probably make his day. D'you who or what he likes?"
"Uh.." You paused as you thought. "Really, really big on Iron Man. He can't wait for the movie to come out. Hasn't stopped talking about it since he saw the first few previews."
"Iron Man.." Gerard repeated softly. "Well, he's one of the most recognizable superheroes ever, so I have no doubt you'll be able to find him something Iron Man related. Figurines can get pretty expensive, though.."
".. Will $20 be enough?"
Gerard chuckled like you had just told him a joke. "If they're having a sale.. Maybe."
You chuckled as well, the sound cut off by a shiver running down your spine. With the power off, whatever heating units they had going was also off, and it was getting pretty cold. "You okay?"
You nodded, wrapping your jacket around yourself a little tighter. "I just get cold easily."
Gerard frowned, scooching to the side for a moment to take off his trench coat before settling it over your shoulders. "There."
You mumbled a small thank you, cheeks heating up to an embarrassing degree. Why were you so easy? Who gets flustered from someone giving you their jacket? Maybe since it's Gerard fucking Way-
The two of you continued to exchange a few words here and there, small talk turning into lighthearted and playful conversations. It was a little surreal getting to know him. Yeah, you had read all sorts of articles and watched all sorts of interviews, knew every song lyric by heart, and could drop so many of his iconic quotes into any conversation, but you were able to see who he was off camera. And who that was, was an adorable, loveable bastard with a passion for comics. Who knew he had such a sense of humor?
Your time together came to an abrupt end when the power flickered back on, the ATM’s came back to life and the door unlocked, finally. The both of you stood up, and you gave his coat back, not feeling quite as awkward or shy around him.
"This was a surprisingly good time." Gerard said after putting his coat back on, adjusting the collar around his neck. "Any chance I can get your number so we can meet up again?"
You blanked before nodding. "Uh.. Yeah, yeah.. Sure.."
Gerard smiled. "Awesome." He opened his contacts and handed you his phone, in which you typed your number in with shaking fingers. "I'll, uh, text you soon?"
"Yeah- Totally. I'm free besides the holidays."
"Great." He began to step away, walking towards the front door, before turning towards you at the last moment. "It was nice meeting you."
"Y-You too." And with that, he left. You found yourself needing a moment or two before you left yourself.
...
Sabrina’s never gonna believe this-
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indigo-flightly-falls · 10 months
Text
The four soldiers of Dogwarts perfectly fit with the four seasons: an unhinged rant of a neurodivergent minor who has had too much sugar
anyways the title explains the idea of this post ^_^
Let's start with fall bc I miss Halloween.
BigB is fall. Fall is a beautiful time of the year, with warm colors and leaves falling and Halloween and time to be with friends. And yet, fall is harsh. It starts out with the warm of summer, and ends a dreary, cold and wet time. Plants do not grow in the later weeks of fall. In the same sense, BigB does not appear threatening. He appears kind and docile, not ready to join the fight (and not one to betray anyone). And yet, just as the fall fades to bitter chill, BigB is capable of much more danger then expected. With or without remorse, betrayal is a option on the table.
Etho is winter. Winter is harsh, bitter, and a constant struggle. Plants are almost unable to grow, snow storms and blizzards can take out many people, and wolves and foxes prowl the forest. And even with it's dangers, winter is a beloved time of year. It's the season of togetherness, with Christmas (and other holidays of this time) and Valentines day both falling during the harshest time of winter. In the same way, Etho is beloved and regarded as a danger. Weither or not they're actually dangerous is up for debate. Winter can pardon those it cares for, and in the same way, Etho is much more loyal then they'll ever let on
Martyn is spring. Yes I know there's the whole 'never made it to spring' deal but bear with me. Spring starts out bitter and wet, with frosts coming to kill off plants that sprout too early. But spring also is full of warmth and sunlight and the promise of a new beginning. And, storms are a common thing to happen during the spring, which can be quiet dangerous if you're not careful. Martyn rarely shows his more loyal side, hiding it behind an uncaring front. And this uncaringness isn't always a lie, but there is small amounts of loyalty still buried like a seed waiting out the frost.
And finally, Skizz is the summer. Spring is the most loved season, promising freedom and warm days with cool nights, skies filled with stars and days spent playing with friends. And yet, summer is storm season in many places, and god forbid that your soil grows dry only to have a heavy downpour. That's a quick way for a flood. And on top of everything else, summer is fleeting. It seems to pass before you even started to enjoy it. In the same way, Skizz promises nothing but loyalty and protection and fun, but a quick switch, that when flipped, shows another side. A side of bloodlust and a hunger for battle. A side that still (despite it all) holds an instinct driven urge to protect.
@thenopequeen here because I fully relate to the need for more of them
@dingdinghq i know you also miss them so here ya go :D
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usmsgutterson · 1 year
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Hello! I saw that you have your requests open! Could you do one with Aaron Warner and him and reader just have a slow fluffy morning? Maybe it be winter and it’s snowing because I’m missing the cold weather with this horrible Texas heat that practically makes me melt just thinking about going outside 😭
Snow- A.W x gn! reader
Hi, I am so sorry that this took me forever! Thank you for sending it in, though, it's been very warm where I am too so writing a fic set in winter was oddly refreshing while waiting for the light, breezy air of autumn to kick in.
Anon, if you're reading, I hope you enjoy this one and again, I am so sorry for how long it's taken to be written and put out!
Fic type- fluff
Warnings- a mention of murdering someone (the reader tells aaron that they'll kill someone if he tries to rope them into leaving the house in the beginnings of a storm) aaron might be a little ooc, and this is also unedited
The first thing that you registered as you woke up was the sound of snow falling so delicately against your windowsill. The second thing you registered was Aarons arm around your waist, his chin against your shoulder, and the feeling of the blanket you'd tossed over yourselves in an attempt to negate the cold, sitting just beneath your elbow as you woke and found it was morning.
You blinked, gaze turning to the curtains and finding they were slightly open, giving yourself a clear display of the snow as it fell to the ground. It was the first snow of the season, and judging by the fact that a storm was suspect, you anticipated that you wouldn't feel motivated to do anything that day.
You knew that Aaron, for all of his efforts with the Resistance and everything he, Juliette, Kenji and the others had accomplished in the time leading up to that day, would appreciate the day of relative nothingness.
The two of you had taken the day off as it were, so even though you'd planned to at least try to do a few things, you knew that nothing very relevant would be done, but you didn't mind that. There could be days of productivity later, but as you turned your gaze to your beloved, ran a hand along the line of his jaw, you decided that that day would not be one of them.
"Good morning, love," Aaron said as he woke.
"Hi," you said, pressing a kiss to his jawline as he pulled you in closer. "Seems like we're in for a storm, so if you try to rope me into leaving this house while we're in the beginnings of it, I might genuinely kill somebody."
That incited the glorious sound of his laughter. "All right, then," he said. "We were due in for a lazy day anyway."
You got up, catching his grin and laughing a bit when he hugged you from behind as you left your bedroom, headed down the hall for the stairs, and moved to the kitchen.
You made your coffee in contented silence, with Warners chin against your shoulder, his arms around your waist, and the cold still biting at you slightly.
You'd long learned to cherish mornings like those, ones where you made coffee and set up the gramophone and grabbed books off of your shelves to read to each other, a blanket draped over your legs while your feet rested in Warners lap and one of his hands ran up and down your calf idly.
And, as you made your coffee and laughed with Warner in between quick kisses, you knew that that morning was going to pan out just like those days did, and you simply couldn't wait.
Mornings like those were few and far between but, with coffee and the impending snowstorm, you knew and Aaron knew that it was going to be a good, relaxing day.
It was one you couldn't wait for.
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