#it sounds like the cold air from a snowy night walk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shadowdaddies · 4 months

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Pas de Deux

Azriel x Reader

Summary: As the principal ballerina at Starlight Ballet Theatre, you never expected to enter into a romantic relationship with the Spymaster of the Night Court, or how it would change your life.

Word Count: 2.6k

Based on this ask. 🩶

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood

You hissed at the pain of peeling off your pointe shoes, feet bloodied and aching from tonight’s performance. The holiday season leading up to Solstice was always a popular time for the people of Velaris to visit the ballet. As principal dancer of the Starlight Ballet Theatre, you’d been dancing two shows a day during this season, your aching muscles protesting your every step as you bid everyone a good night.

Shoving through the back door, you stumbled into the snowy street. The icy cold against your sore feet sent a jolt of pain through your body, and you stumbled, slipping along the icy cobblestone street. Your feet flew in the air, your back headed for the pavement when strong, warm arms caught you.

You huffed a nervous breath, trying to register what had just happened when you looked up to see the most beautiful male you had ever seen. Hazel eyes focused on you in concern, onyx waves of hair falling in the winged male’s face as he held you.

You blushed under his intense gaze, interrupting the trance the both of you seemed to be in in that moment. Clearing his throat, the male returned your blush as he set you back on your feet.

“Thank you, for that,” you laughed nervously, glancing up through your lashes at the intimidating male before you, his kind eyes at contrast with his guarded demeanor, the dark shadows that seemed to follow him. With a startling realization, you recognized him as the Spymaster of the Night Court.

He cracked a small smile, nodding in acknowledgment. “My name is Azriel. You were wonderful tonight,” he admitted, the blush deepening on his cheeks as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“You watched the show?” you asked, surprised that the famed shadowsinger would visit the ballet.

A small laugh left his lips, a sound more beautiful than any music you had danced to in your life. “I did. I quite enjoy the symphony and the ballet as well.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words, the thought of commanding Azriel’s attention like this. The thought was apparently too distracting, a gasp escaping you as your feet slipped on the ice once more. Azriel’s arm wrapped comfortably around your waist, holding you up as you regained your footing. Only this time, he didn’t let go.

You allowed Azriel to walk you home, falling into easy conversation as you found his company to be that of a soft breeze, calm and refreshing.

Months passed as you got to know Azriel better, growing more attached and drawn to his presence every day. You enjoyed the excitement and stories he brought from his role as Spymaster, and he enjoyed your calm, relaxed personality, which always brought him peace after a trying day. You looked forward to seeing his face in the crowd at your shows, those hazel eyes keeping you grounded and secure.

Today was the weekend matinee for the Spring show, and you inhaled a shaky breath - your nerves growing as the time until curtain call shrank. Peering around the curtain, you looked to Azriel’s regular seat towards the front in search of his comforting presence, but your eyes locked with a different pair that made your heartbeat stutter.

The violet eyes of High Lord of the Night Court met yours, Rhysand lounged comfortably in his seat next to a tense looking Azriel. Your High Lord gave you a small, encouraging nod that soothed your nerves slightly. With a curtsy, you hid back behind the curtains, wondering what this could mean.

Azriel was yet to introduce you to his family, and now was one Hel of a time to do so. The orchestra struck up their tune, drawing you from your spiraling thoughts as they signaled the beginning of the show.

As the show came to a close, you mentally thanked the Mother that you miraculously made it through the performance without a mistake. What was Azriel thinking, bringing Rhysand here without a warning?

Gritting your teeth as you bandaged your hurting feet, you shrugged on pants and scowled as you stormed out the side door with a huff. Two faces greeted you, once with an amused smile and glittering violet eyes, the other grinding his jaw as Azriel glanced between you and Rhysand, anger and shame written on his face.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you,” Rhysand purred, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he watched you with a feline grin. “Azriel said that we are going for dinner now?”

A low growl sounded in Azriel’s throat, the spymaster practically shaking in anger, fists clenched at his sides. “I said that we,” he paused, gesturing between you and himself, “were going to dinner, Rhys.”

Rhys seemed completely unbothered by Azriel’s ire, shrugging as he picked a piece of lint from his jacket. “Well, Azriel, as you know, I have important matters to discuss with your lovely lady here.”

Your eyes widened in shock, swallowing as you turned to Azriel. He simply sighed in defeat, sending you an apologetic look. “I am sorry that I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you earlier. Rhys has something to ask of you. But you can say no.” Azriel ground out the last words with a near-threatening tone, looking at Rhys as he spoke them.

Again, Rhys maintained his casual composure as he led you into a small restaurant. The space might have felt cozy, with its small interior and green and gold decoration, but as you looked around to find yourselves the only ones inside, worry twisted in your stomach.

Rhys looked over your shoulder, flashing an impossibly charming smile at the female behind you. “Hello, Sevenda. Thank you again for allowing us to dine here this evening.”

The woman blushed slightly, nodding as she sang her praises to the High Lord, how grateful she was for the honor to serve him. Plates of food were brought out for all of you, the inviting smell at odds with the unease in your stomach.

Azriel’s hand reached for yours under the table, giving a reassuring squeeze before his focus turned to Rhysand. “Alright Rhys, get on with it. Tell her what you want from her, and we’ll be on our way.”

Rhys breathed out a low chuckle, his posture as casual as ever while he scooped generous helpings of food onto his plate, and yours. He leaned back in his seat, swirling a goblet of wine in his hand, studying you for a brief moment.

“The Night Court would like your assistance with an upcoming meeting of the High Lords,” he drawled, carefully watching your reaction. You were frozen in your chair, mind reeling with the possibilities of what place you would have in a High Lords’ meeting.

Rhys continued, setting down his drink as his tone shifted to one more serious. “I will leave it to Azriel’s discretion to fill you in on any details that I decide to leave out of my proposition, but I would like to use your extraordinary talent. You are, arguably, the most talented dancer in Prythian, and I need someone to provide a... distraction, at a gathering soon in the Day Court.”

You nodded, willing your heart to calm as you tried to focus on Rhysand’s words. “A distraction?” you repeated.

The High Lord nodded, taking a sip of his wine. He set it down, swirling his finger along the edge of the glass as he continued. “If you would agree to be the evening’s entertainment for a night, I believe that your talent would captivate our guests while we attend to... other responsibilities.”

That didn’t sound terrible. It would be considered an honor by many to be able to perform for all the High Lords and Ladies, but the unusual request still made you uncertain.

You swirled your own wine glass by the stem, making a show of contemplating his proposal. “And why me? Surely, there are many other possible entertainers, or forms of distraction,” you mused.

Rhys gave you a conspiratorial smirk, eyes shining with approval at your questioning. Leaning back in his seat, the male crossed his arms as he nodded to the Spymaster next to you. “Simple. Azriel trusts you. I have seen your skill, how captivating you can be, and that appeals to the person we need to distract. You are the best option for us to accomplish our goal without rousing suspicion. And you are one of very few whom my spymaster trusts.”

Azriel’s shadows swirled protectively around you, the tension visible in his shoulders as the male merely nodded. Turning to you, Azriel held your hand tightly in his. “Please do not feel pressured at all. You do not need to do anything that you do not want to.”

Azriel’s words and the tenderness with which he spoke them were all you needed to hear. Turning to Rhys, you gave a firm nod. “I’m in.”

Two days later, you found yourself in a private room at the Day Court Palace, slipping on your shoes as Azriel paced anxiously by the door.

“Beron will be seated front and center during your performance. The Autumn Court has an affinity for dance, so he should be especially interested in you.” Azriel practically growled those last words, his temper rising at the mere mention of the High Lord of Autumn.

Hazel eyes turned towards you, long legs striding towards where you sat on the floor. Azriel crouched down, a scarred hand brushing the side of your cheek, his soft touch at odds with the visible tension he carried. “You just need to distract Beron long enough for Eris to leave the room unnoticed so that he can meet Cassian for the exchange.”

You nodded, giving Azriel an encouraging smile as he helped you to your feet. “I will never let anyone harm you,” he swore, his voice sharp enough that he might as well have carved the promise in stone.

You leaned up, kissing him softly as you swore, “I’ll be fine.” A knock sounded on the door, interrupting the moment as Rhysand and Feyre passed through the threshold.

“Are you ready?” Rhys asked, the pure authority in his tone as he addressed you so different from how he’d been the night you met. Smoothing your skirts, you gestured for him to lead the way.

The setup was simple, but the semicircle of chairs in which the High Lords and Ladies were seated so close to you had your heart pumping. Taking your spot on the dance floor in front of them, you gave Beron a shy, alluring smile as you curtsied.

The orchestra began to play, and your body moved effortlessly to the music. Soft wisps of air twirled with you, giving you comfort that Azriel was close by and watching. Your flowing layers of skirts twirled through the air, flaring out like blooming flower petals as you glowed underneath the faelights.

The entire room was enraptured by your grace, the siren call of your dance. The musical crescendo built, and with it so did your movements, tears building in the eyes of many in the room as you embodied the emotions of the music through movement.

You had not even noticed Eris’s departure, a realization that brought a slight smile to your face as the plan seemed to be working. Then the violinist struck a wrong chord, the musicians suddenly in disarray as the melody was lost to the wind.

You continued to push through, dancing in the silence, but as the audience turned to see what was amiss in the orchestra, the air quickly grew thick with tension. Before you could blink, fire encased your ankles, your wrists, your neck, restraining you in place on the floor.

Beron appeared in front of you, a curious look on his face, as the fire grew hotter around your neck. “Would you happen to know where my son is, Little Diversion?”

Tears stung your eyes at the burn only for a moment before a blast of blue light knocked Beron halfway across the room.

“Do not touch my mate,” Azriel growled, siphons glowing as he stalked towards the High Lord. You hardly had time to register Az’s words before an Autumn Court guard stepped out from the side, drawing his sword as it cut through the air towards Azriel.

Finding the slit in your skirt, you drew a throwing knife, piercing directly through the center of the male’s wrist. He dropped his sword with a hiss, the male crumbling to the ground as Azriel turned. The Illyrian’s mouth was ajar as he watched you remove another knife from your thigh holster, flicking it into the throat of another approaching guard.

Hysteria broke out, High Lords and Ladies fighting alongside their allies, Prythian’s political leaders at each others’ throats in front of your eyes. You picked up the sword from the male you’d cut down, standing back to back with Azriel as you battled off the remaining attackers.

As you tried to catch your breath, strong hands spun you around, Azriel’s eyes intense as they searched your blood-stained outfit for any signs of damage. You let the sword drop to the ground - blood splattering as it clinked against the cold floor - and wrapped your arms around Azriel as you pulled him in for a kiss.

He held you there, arms wound tightly around you as Azriel rested his forehead against yours. “When did you learn to fight like that?” he breathed.

Laughing softly against his lips, you gave him an incredulous look. “You think I could spend my life with a Spymaster without learning how to defend myself?”

Azriel gasped at your words, drawing back as his brow narrowed in confusion. “You knew we were mates?”

You shook your head, the peacefulness you felt at odds with the chaos surrounding you. “I didn’t have to know that we were mates, to know that I am yours. Always.”

Azriel’s eyes lined with tears, your mate pulling you in for another heated kiss when the sound of a throat clearing beside you interrupted the moment.

Rhysand stood there with Helion, the two High Lords of Day and Night exuding an intimidating amount of power before you.

“Beron did initiate an attack during an agreed time of peace by his interruption during this meeting, so he will be dealt with accordingly,” Helion announced, granting Azriel a small, reassuring nod.

“Cassian confirmed the missive exchange went smoothly,” Rhys paused, looking around the wreckage of the room. “Well, it went smoothly on their end.” Violet eyes flicked to you, approval and kindness clear within them. Rhys took Feyre’s hand, his other coming to lightly clap your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “good night, sister.”

You blushed, bidding Rhys and Feyre good night before turning back to Helion and Azriel. Helion took your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his eyes sparkling. “Azriel knows where my room is, if the two of you find yourselves in need... of anything,” he purred with a wink before striding through the doors.

Azriel groaned, pulling you into his chest. Laying your head there, you allowed yourself to savor his warmth for a moment before taking his hand in yours. With a sly smile, you guided Az out the door. Gesturing to your soiled attire, you winked at Azriel. “I think I could use a bath, if you care to join me, mate.”

In a blink, Azriel had scooped you up bridal style, peppering kisses to your face while he raced to the bath. You laughed, clinging tightly to him as you looked forward to your life with the Spymaster.

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novlr · 11 months

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How to write the cold

The way we feel cold is universal, but the way we contextualise it is not. Cold has a variety of connotations for readers, so it's important to decide how to use it, and what mood you want to convey in your scene.

While cold is often associated with negative aspects in writing, if there's anything the winter season teaches us, is that it can be a positive thing as well. Rather than just using the word cold, in your next writing project, try to contextualise it. Describe the weather, the light on the snow, the comfort of warmth after an icy swim, or the fear and loneliness of the dark on a cold night.

Here are our quick tips on how to write the cold:

In nature

Clean mountain air

Glittering ice crystals

Unique wildlife, like snow hares or polar bears

Snow muffled sounds

Steam rising from hot springs

Icy water in rivers and lakes

Overcast and rainy

Bright sun on fresh snow

Icebergs, glaciers, and ice floes

Storms and blizzards

Branches moving and creaking

Frozen ponds

Morning frost on grass

Snowdrops pushing through snowdrifts

Crisp and clear night skies

Wolves howling in the dark

Bare branches scraping against windows

Eerie shadows

Foods and objects

The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg

Heavy winter coats and scarves

Rich, hot meals with lots of gravy

Tea or coffee left out too long

Ice-cream, sorbets, or ice-lollies

Metal that is cold to the touch (like pots and pans or door handles)

Cold beverages straight out of the fridge

An icy bath

Freezer trucks or walk-in refrigerators

Dry ice

Crisp, fresh sheets on cold nights

Ice sculptures

A tap with a drip that freezes in place

Frozen celebratory drinks (like daiquiris)

A single cube of ice floating in a whisky glass

A cold pack for an injury

Character moods

Isolated

Lonely

Aloof

Sad

Comfortable

Snuggly

Focused

Panicked

Indifferent

A lack of affection

Calm and calculated

Disengaged

Serene

Depressed

Awestruck

Anxious

Reverent

Melancholy

Nostalgic

Impatient

Frustrated

Reflective

Character body language

Hunched shoulders

Crossed arms

Shivering

Snuggling into something warm

Rub hands together for warmth

Tight or strained expression

Biting dry lips

Furrowing brow

Glaring against brightness

Tense and rigid stance

Stand close to others

Slow, deliberate steps

Move quickly to somewhere warm

Sitting relaxed in a warm space

Actions and events

Start a fire or build a shelter

Winter hikes

Outdoor activities like skating, skiing, or sledding

Traffic jams or snowed in cars

Frozen lakes cracking underfoot

Dodging icicles falling from rooftops

Going ice-fishing

Long sea voyages

Frostbite

Suffering from a cold, the flu, or pneumonia

Brainfreeze

Snuggling under a warm duvet

Sipping from a steaming hot drink for comfort

Cold-water swimming

Walking to work in the rain

Christmas in the Northern Hemisphere

Chrismas in July in the Southern Hemisphere

Reading a good book by the fire while it snows outside

Positive aspects

While cold is often associated with negative emotions, using it as a juxtaposition can often help to accentuate the positive feelings you want to convey.

If it's cold outside, a character enjoying a hot chocolate under their duvet will give a much more positive impression than if they were simply staying in bed.

The beauty of the natural world in winter, like snow, ice, and winter foliage can also be used to create a scene of happiness and wonder.

Negative aspects

Cold is often used to describe characters who are emotionally detached, calculating, or generally unfeeling. It's become an easy way to clue your readers in to how they're meant to feel about your character.

There are also more creative ways to use the cold, however, like describing the disappointment of forgetting about a hot drink you put down somewhere and only remembering when it's already gone cold, or the feeling of shock after you first step out of a warm shower.

Helpful synonyms

chilly

frigid

icy

wintry

frosty

cool

nippy

freezing

glacial

brisk

chilled

cool

polar

bitter

snowy

raw

refrigerated

arctic

rimy

draughty

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mysteryshoptls · 3 months

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SSR Jamil Viper - Applepom Voice Lines

Apple Boa Jamil does not have a vignette

When Summoned: A snow-covered land, huh... I'm sure the scenery and culture would be completely different from my homeland. I'd like to stop by when I start my travels.

Summon Line: This attire is well-made in both design and its ability to protect against the cold. I suppose this is made from the culmination of years of wisdom from living in a snowy region...

Groooovy!!: Lying down in a snow field and watching the snowflakes fall... That doesn't sound bad at all.

Home: I'd love to take a walk in the snow wearing this attire.

Home Idle 1: If it were up to me, I'd choose a snake as my stuffed animal for the sled race. They can move swiftly in any sort of environment.

Home Idle 2: This outfit was a gift from Jade. I didn't like him not having a reason to give it to me, so I refused it, but he was insistent...

Home Idle 3: I'd like to try all the different apple dishes in Harveston. I'm sure it'll be a great way to study how to make various dishes out of one main ingredient.

Home Idle - Login: I'd heard that the air in snow-covered countries are cleaner and the night sky is beautiful. I hope to be able to see it with my own eyes one day.

Home Idle - Groovy: You bought me some dried apples from Harveston? Thanks. I'll try them when I get hungry.

Home Tap 1: When I heard that perpetually indoor Idia-senpai participated in the sled race... I absolutely couldn't believe it.

Home Tap 2: I've ridden a sled across sand before, so I'm curious if the sensation is different across snow. I hope to experience it some day.

Home Tap 3: I think at the next banquet I'll serve the Harveston specialty sandwich cake that Epel told me about. It looks bright and colorful enough to be a good addition.

Home Tap 4: Apparently, this was a spare outfit, made just in case. So, what could he have possibly said to have been able to take it with him?

Home Tap 5: You've been looking at my gloves for a little while now. Are you that interested in the embroidery? I'd have lent it do you if you just said something.... Here.

Home Tap - Groovy: I'm sure I'd get a better insight on Harveston if I just chat with someone who's actually gone there in person. So go on and tell me all about it.

Duo: [JAMIL]: There's no time to kid around, Jade. [JADE]: Of course, Jamil-san.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #jamil viper #twst jamil #twst translation #mention: jade #mention: idia #mention: epel

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nsharks · 1 year

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white bandages (the process of healing) | simon "ghost" riley

part 2 to this fic. I will very likely have a part 3 to wrap things up. —tags: tw blood, ghost + therapy, mild angst, fluff too —running out of pictures to use of this man so this is an edit by @ave661

Fluorescent light falls over an unmasked face. It highlights every ridge of every scar, his shorn stubble, his pale skin. When was the last time Simon Riley took a good look in the mirror? He can't remember— there are many things he works hard to avoid, and his own name is scribbled at the top of the list.

That first night without you, he finds himself in front of the mirror and half expects to see a ghost staring back at him. A corpse, maybe.

But, instead, he sees a man who lives and breathes. A man whose need for sleep is evident in the grey blotches under his eyes. A man whose eyes are anything but empty.

I feel nothing.

No—a ghost feels nothing. A ghost would've been able to forget how you looked at him, your eyes wide with the same fear he used to stare at his old man in. But Simon is not a ghost, and he remembers the fresh images with a pain that starts in his ribs and works its way to the pit of his stomach. Burning. It is a pain so unfamiliar that he doesn't know what to do with it—

—so he seeks a pain that he does know.

Pain that bursts in his hand the moment it meets the mirror. Pain accompanied by the splintering of glass as he hits the mirror over and over, and not once does he make a sound or cry or anything of the sort. He just breathes heavily and, once the mirror is not much of a mirror anymore, he looks at his hand and sees the bits of glass and the blood, and - fucking hell - it does nothing to mask what he feels in his chest.

"Jesus Christ."

He sighs.

His breathing slowly begins to settle.

And then he gets out the medical kit he keeps in the cabinet, sits with it on his bed, and carefully picks out the glass from his hand.

He knows how to take care of this wound. Knows exactly what to do to fix it.

But there are some things Ghost— Simon— doesn't know how to fix; wounds that are far too deep for him to reach. And as he wraps his hand up with some gauze, he remembers what you'd said to him earlier that day, so damn caring and gentle, even in your desire to get away from him:

I think you need help. You deserve it, Simon.

------

You loved the snow.

One time, you made Simon build a snowman with you. Well— it was more like you building the snowman while he watched and critiqued it. Your snowman looks like he's seen some rough shit, pet. Jesus, where is his smile? You had pouted through your laughter, nudging his shoulder. You can't judge him for not smiling, Si. Just like I don't judge you for it.

Of course, you ended up with a handful of snow in your hair for that one.

Quite the mouth on you today, huh?

And then he was rolling his eyes and lifting up his mask to kiss you as your hands combed out the ice from your hair, and you swore you felt him smiling against your lips— but you could never know for sure.

You loved that snowy day with him.

But now—

Now you're not sure if you're so happy about the snow you wake up to.

It's been a week of space. Work has been your main distraction, and you know you need to get the fallen snow off your windshield before you can make it there today.

But when you walk out into the white morning with a coat slipped over your pajamas, you find that your car is already being cleared off by a familiar silhouette with broad shoulders and a black, winter coat.

The cold squeezes your chest. Your heartbeat is swallowed up.

Seven days ago, you had begged him for space. Seven days ago, you left his place with defeat thick in your veins.

Today, you're not sure what you feel as you simply stand there for a moment. Your cheeks bitten to pink by the air and your arms crossed over your body. You watch him draw the brush over the hood, so easily, with one hand stuffed in his pocket, but then his eyes are drifting up— up until they land on where you stand a few meters away, and your fingertips dig into the palms of your hands.

He's the first one to speak. A man of few words who leans the brush against your car and utters a simple:

"Hey."

"Hey," you clear your throat, "Um, why are you doing this?”

He takes a step closer to you, but only one. A tentative step that keeps a good gap between your bodies, where faint flakes of snow fill the space.

“I know we are havin’ space right now," he murmurs. Gentle, murky eyes hold your stare. He slips the hidden hand out from his pocket, only for a short moment, to brush off the snow from his other hand, and you spot the flash of white bandages before it disappears into his coat again.

"But I also know you're workin' today so I thought I'd just... make your morning easier.”

"Thanks," your eyes drift to the ground. "But I don't know— I'm not sure if I'm ready..."

"S'okay," he says, gruff yet incredibly careful, a tiptoe over what lays damaged. "I'm not askin' anything of you, alright?"

“Alright,” you say quietly before your eyes drift to his pocket. “What happened to your hand?”

You’re not sure why you are asking him, and you doubt if the truth will even leave his lips. Wounds— over a year with him, and you’d witnessed plenty. Wounds that you only ever found out about when your fingers would graze under his shirt as he fucked you, and you’d carefully ask what happened as you both lay there breathless. Nothin’ worth telling you about, was his usual answer.

But today, with a peppering of snow on his mask and a sigh pooling from his breath, he tells you earnestly, “Broke my bloody mirror, is what happened.”

“What?”

“Look— it’s not important, yeah? There’s somethin’ else… somethin' else I wanted to tell you before you go to work, and I don’t expect anythin’ from you, but I just thought I should tell you.”

“I— okay,” you blink rapidly, still hung up on the mirror part. But you nod your head and shift your weight from foot to foot, willing yourself to listen to what he wants to tell you because maybe your heart is beginning to thump firm, expectant beats against your ribs, and maybe there are flakes of hope peppering the defeat in your chest, just like the snow that dusts Simon’s shoulders.

But what Simon has to tell you feels like pebbles in his mouth. He’s not good with words; his failure with them seven days ago is a testament to that. These pebbles sit behind his teeth for a lingering moment, before he finds the strength to push them out between the cracks.

(Perhaps, it’s all your patience and care for even the darkest parts of him that has finally given him this strength.)

“I talked to someone yesterday,” he tells you.

He exhales immediately.

You’re not sure if you’ve heard him correctly at first - there is no way? - but the words hang in the cold air as he stares at you with lowered brows, studying the expression on your face, and your lips part open like a bloody koi fish because this is not at all what you expected him to say.

“Really?” you finally breathe, a lilt of relief catching at the end. “You did?”

“Get it free through the military,” he mumbles with a nod, clearing his throat. “Thought a lot about what you said, yeah?”

Numbly, you sputter again, “You did?” But then you shake your head and rub your arms, “Sorry, I mean— that’s so good to hear, Simon. That’s just… How was it?”

“Bloody difficult,” he admits in a mumble, and only you, the person closest to him these days, are able to detect the minor tremor in his voice. “But - fuck - I’m gonna keep doin’ it.”

“Maybe it’ll get easier,” you tell him, drawing an arm over your eyes.

“Yeah.”

“I’m… really proud of you.”

You’re not even fully aware of your crying— no, you’re too focused on the sudden warmth that floods your chest because it is now you realize that if there is no worse feeling than watching someone you care for refuse to help themselves, then there is also no better feeling than hearing that help is something they are finally seeking.

And you care about Simon.

You have for so long, even when the agreement was just sex. Even when you'd flinched away. Even when you spent a week distracting yourself from thoughts of him.

This agreement you shared had turned into care. And you care, you care, you care. You care so much that you forget about the space you'd begged him for in this moment that you rush over to him, closing the cold and hesitant gap as your arms wrap around his neck and your forehead presses into his coat.

But the body against you is stiff and unmoving.

Your smile of relief turns into something apologetic and confused when two strong hands gently push you away.

You peer up at him.

"Don't think that's a good idea, pet."

"What?" you exhale, frowning.

He puts his hands back into his pockets. "I've hurt you, yeah?"

"I know, but—"

"I never want to do that again," he murmurs firmly. "Need some more time before I can make that promise to you."

Your heart sinks and floats and tries to swim through everything you feel. You can't discern all the feelings— there's so much. A flood. He's looking down at you as if you are the most fragile thing and as if, even by just getting too close, he might frighten you again.

"More space, then?" you whisper, stepping back.

Where you'd been the one to start it, now you are the one disappointed by it.

The short nod he gives is confirmation, but before you can get too down about it, he allows this: his good hand reaching out to grab yours. He kisses your knuckles with warm, masked lips.

"I care about you," he murmurs against your hand. "So goddamn much."

"I care about you, too."

"I know," and he lowers your hand, carefully rubbing the back of it. "Wanna be the kind of man you deserve. But I need to—" and his bandaged hand lifts up to tap a finger against his temple, "Need to sort through all the shit in here, yeah?"

"Okay," you whisper, nod, and sniffle. "They'll help you with it. You just have to let them in, Simon."

But he doesn't have anything to say to that— his source of words is a bit depleted. This week has drained him in every way possible, visible to you in the bags under his eyes. A squeeze of your hand is the last thing he has to offer before he lets it go, and then he is off to finish clearing your car.

(Although, you already know you will have a hard time getting to work on time this morning.)

#good for him #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #angst #fluff #tw blood

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roosterforme · 1 year

Text

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

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

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears

Length: 1500 words

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

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

Check my profile for my masterlist

Five Months Later...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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cows-wearing-my-sweater · 9 months

Text

eternal summer [part one]

part two: [soon]

word count: 2207 warnings: none ! notes: will get part two done as soon as i can, particularly if you guys seem to enjoy this <3 please always lmk your thoughts, don't be shy !!

You met him in the wintertime; he was all grey smoke and black coats and pale fingers blushed with red from the cold air. You had been at Charli’s house (practically a second home to you after years of friendship) watching the late-December snowfall while basking in the warm comfort of her living room, when a loud, almost obnoxious knocking came from the front door. Charli was quick to get up, rolling her eyes good-naturedly and simply saying, “It’s just Matty.”

The two of them stood in her doorway talking, Matty undoubtedly looking for George. Your gaze returned to the soft and snowy scene outside the window, allowing you to become lost in thought. Matty, you said in your head. Best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Enough degrees of separation away for you to be vaguely aware of him, but not near enough for you to have met him before. Charli had plenty of stories to tell, of course, but that was about it. Curly-haired singer with a loud personality, a soft heart, and, according to several anecdotes you’d previously heard, someone who should be filed under Men Who Can Do You No Good. You had your doubts about the sources you’d gotten that from, though.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Charli say to Matty, “Yeah, she’s just over there.”

You turned to look over at the doorway. Matty was craning his neck slightly, as if trying to get a good look at you over on the couch. You sat further up and waved to him. “Hey.” It was your first time really seeing him, and you did your best to take in as many details as possible without blatantly staring: the few stray curls that escaped the rest of his neatly gelled hair, his slight stubble, the small silver hoop that hung from his ear, the way his eyes crinkled when he returned your smile.

“Hi.” He paused, giving you just a moment to collect yourself again. “I’m Matty.” He sounded almost awkward, like he wanted to say something witty or cool but had completely drawn a blank. You told him your name, he nodded, he said something to Charli, he left. That was that, completely (maybe disappointingly) unmonumental.

Charli sat down next to you on the couch again. “Did he seem tense to you?” she asked.

You gave a noncommittal shrug of your shoulders. “Dunno. You know him better than I do.” Although, a very small part of you couldn’t help but briefly wonder what it would be like if you did know him better. What if you could tell when he was tense, what if you knew all the tells of when he was anxious, what if you could read his mind and he could read yours? You stopped before you got even further ahead of yourself. You sound insane, you told yourself. It was enough to make you decide to push Matty out of your thoughts for the foreseeable future. Besides, it would be quite a while before you’d have to see him again.

Except it wasn’t. Just two weeks later, you found yourself back in Charli’s home, the familiar air smelling of pine and cinnamon from the lit candles. Charli had decked the house out in fairy lights and colorful, sparkling ornaments – it was a Christmas party, after all. “Party” was a bit of an overstatement, though. Really it was just you, her, George, and the other three guys, with Carly accompanying Adam.

Your eyes landed on Matty almost immediately after walking inside. This time, instead of the drab coat and slicked-back hair, he was drowning in a fuzzy, oversized jumper and had let his curls loose. They framed his face perfectly, and something about seeing him in this setting – warm, cozy, inviting – made your heart briefly skip a beat.

Halfway through the night you were perfectly at home with the group of people who had been near strangers just hours before. Everybody had drinks in hand, conversation was flowing with ease, and a warm glow seemed to illuminate the whole room. In your slightly tipsy state, you allowed yourself to sneak furtive glances in Matty’s direction – what harm could come from a little crush on him? He was cute, he was funny, he was intriguing. It would be weird for me to not be interested, you reasoned with yourself. It was just then that your thoughts were interrupted by yet another reason to keep him on your mind: his fucking fingers. The flicker of his lighter had drawn your eyes to his hands and the way they fidgeted with a cigarette before pressing it to his lips. Matty’s face was briefly highlighted in a bloom of yellow-orange, before the flame went out and was replaced by wisps of grey smoke. You blatantly stared at his index and middle fingers as they held the cigarette to his lips, then studied the shape those lips took when he blew the smoke out to the side, wondering how they would feel against yours, soft and hungry.

At this thought, you stood and excused yourself to the kitchen, deciding that another drink was in order. You were almost certain you could feel Matty’s eyes burning into your back as you walked away, but you weren’t sure if it was wishful thinking or anxious paranoia on your part.

The sound of conversation from the other room was slightly muted in the kitchen, but it wasn’t long before you heard familiar footsteps behind you. You turned around, already knowing it was Charli. “He hasn’t got a girlfriend, you know,” she said with a sly smile.

You furrowed your brow in feigned confusion. This would not become something she could hold over you. “Sorry, who are we talking about?”

“Matty, obviously!” she exclaimed loudly. You gave her a warning glance, petrified that her voice would carry and your little crush would have to come to a swift end.

“I’m not interested.” Charli raised her eyebrows at your words. “Well, maybe I’m attracted, but I’m not interested!”

Your friend knew you well enough to understand that the topic was moot. There would be no changing your mind – at least, not that night. Charli began to sidle out of the kitchen, but not without saying, “I’ll keep my eye on you two,” in a teasing voice.

.♡♡♡.♡♡♡.♡♡♡.

And then it’s summer. Everything is the same, but now there’s a gold filter over it all. Everything is different, but the air still smells the way it did in the summer five years ago. Summer is a constant. Time will always pass and everything will always keep moving, but when the time is right, the sun will always warm your skin, and if you try hard enough, your skin starts to glow the way it did when you were six years old.

One thing you’ve learned since May, when the weather really got warm and the sunsets began to linger a little while longer, is that Matty Healy is luminous in the summertime. Your interactions with him have become more frequent since that December, giving you the opportunity to watch him metamorphosize. Without you particularly realizing, lunch dates and movies and late night drives with him have become a part of your weekly schedule. Charli had been determined to work her magic, and while no romantic endeavors had occurred, her set-ups for the two of you had undoubtedly helped form one of the most meaningful friendships in your life.

You’re definitely over that stupid crush.

There’s no time to contemplate your previous budding infatuation anyway, because a car has pulled up outside your home and the driver is incessantly honking on the horn. Speak of the devil. You grab your tote bag filled with a towel, snacks, sunscreen, sunglasses, and a paperback book and dash out of your front door, sandals hitting the ground loudly.

Both the driver’s and passenger’s doors of Matty’s car have been thrown open. Alison by Slowdive is playing softly through the car speakers as you slide into your seat and place your bag on the floor between your legs. Matty raises his sunglasses up away from his eyes, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “You ready?”

“Mhm.” You have to bite your tongue in order to not say more, seeing as your heart rate has increased tenfold at the sight of Matty. Every button of his white short-sleeve shirt is undone, the collar hanging loosely around his neck. His tattooed arms are sunkissed, almost golden, as if a goddess of the sun blessed him with her touch. Glimpses of the tattoo across his chest peek out from his undone shirt, contrasting with the bright fabric. You’re filled with the insatiable desire to remove the shirt and press your fingertips to the ink, the only barrier left between you and his bones being that thin layer of skin. You could melt into each other.

There’s not much need for small talk today. Soon enough you’re speeding down an empty rural road, windows down and music loud. Matty is rhythmically tapping on the wheel to the beat of the music, while you reach your arm out the window and let yourself become enveloped by the roaring warm wind. Occasionally you turn your attention back to Matty and the soft smile that appears on his face as he mouths the words to the song. He could smile at you and the world could crumble down at your feet and you wouldn’t care; all you can see is Matty.

After a lengthy drive, a sparkling expanse of water comes into view, the sandy beach completely deserted save for two figures you can see in the distance – Charli and George. You have a feeling that this beach day is another one of Charli’s attempts to set you up with Matty, and for once you don’t feel so eager to protest; not when his eyes are pools of honey and his cheeks are dusted pink from the sun and his perfectly sculpted figure is right in front of you like this.

When you and Matty have carried your things down to the beach where Charli and George have placed their bags, the two of them are already down in the water; Charli’s loud laughter carries up to the sand where you stand with Matty. “They’re really cute together, aren’t they?” you say wistfully, almost to yourself.

“Yeah… yeah, they are.” You’ve discarded the large cotton shirt you were using as a cover-up for the black two-piece you had beneath it, and Matty’s eyes are trained on you. A pause before it hits you:

He’s staring he’s staring he’s staring fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck–

Matty clears his throat. His face is burning bright red now, and you’re quite certain he hasn’t formed a sunburn this quickly. “Sunscreen?” he says weakly.

“Sorry?”

“Uhm, would you like help with your sunscreen, I mean.”

“Oh!” Your mouth takes a moment to catch up with your brain. “Yes, please!.” You dig around in your bag for the sunscreen and hand it to him before turning around, your back facing him.

The cool lotion on your back applied by his warm and calloused hands nearly makes you gasp. You bite down on your lower lip and tense your shoulders, though the goosebumps across your skin give you away regardless. Matty’s hands work the lotion into your skin, fingers practically massaging your shoulders. Your eyelids flutter close, and before you can stop yourself, you let out a soft, contented sigh. Matty’s fingers pause and your eyes shoot open.

Fuck.

It wasn’t even that bad don’t worry it’s fine don’t worry–

Fuck.

Matty quickly finishes applying the sunscreen and takes his hands off you, allowing you to face him once again. His lips are parted almost imperceptibly and you’re sure he can hear your thoughts racing – a mortifying idea, as all you can think about is silencing his next words with your mouth on his, hungry like he’s fresh fruit, letting him drip down your lips to your chin.

“Are you two having a moment?”

You nearly jump out of your skin. You didn’t even notice Charli making her way up the beach toward you. A knowing look is on her face as she picks up a towel and wraps it around herself, telepathically screaming “Tell me fucking everything” at you.

“No, we’re just–” You start, but Matty is quick to interrupt.

“We just realized we forgot something in my car, actually! Come help me find it?” Matty looks at you pointedly, nearly begging for you to go along with this. And who are you to say no?

“Yeah, yeah, of course! Tell George we’ll be right back, alright?” you tell Charli.

Before she can get a word in edgewise, Matty takes your hand in his and adamantly whisks you away. You wave to Charli, who’s watching with an open-mouthed smile, before returning your attention to the task of keeping up with Matty’s fast pace. His grip on your hand, the serious expression on his face, the white shirt slipping down his shoulder – you’re suddenly faced with the unsavory realization that you’re not, nor have you ever been, over that stupid crush.

On the contrary, you’re utterly fucked.

#took awhile to write this and idk for sure how i feel about it now but life goes on yall #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy #fluff #naomi's writing !

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months

Note

can i request a conrad fisher fic with ‘santa doesn’t know you like i do’ by sabrina carpenter? thank u smsm i love ur writing

I've been loving Sabrina Carpenter at the moment, thank you for the idea anon <3 It fits right with an idea I had in my list!

Warnings: mention of losing a parent (Susannah)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Dressed in a red sweater and sparkly skirt, you were about to head to your aunt’s house for Christmas dinner. But just as you were reaching for your coat, you saw Jeremiah’s name on your phone screen. A frown formed between your eyebrows as you answered.

‘’Hello?’’

‘’Are you with Conrad?’’

He sounded worried through the phone. You could feel the prayer for a positive answer in his voice, which made your frown deepen.

‘’No. Why?’’

‘’He didn’t come home. He said he would. He promised Dad— He’s not answering my texts or picking up my calls.’’

‘’Maybe he got held back at college because of the snow?’’

Jeremiah denied that supposition. ‘’I don’t think so. I called his roommate at Brown and he said he left last night.’’

‘’Maybe he went to Laurel’s? He’s talked about going to Pennsylvania this winter break.’’

‘’I already called her. We don’t know where he is. He hasn’t talked to anyone in the last few weeks. You’re the only one he talks to. That’s why I thought he might have been with you.’’

A heavy pause hung in the air as you recalled your and Conrad’s last conversations, trying to find a clue of where he was. He talked about finals and living off coffee and cup-o-noodles and how excited he was to eat a home-cooked meal, even if it was mashed potatoes or chicken that wasn’t in a nugget form. The sweater he got Jeremiah for Christmas. His roommate. His mom and the bike he got her last Christmas. It’s still in the garage, at the exact place she left it.

‘’I think I might know where he is,’’ you said.

It was a wild guess, but it was Conrad’s comfort place.

‘’Where?’’ Jeremiah's urgency echoed through the phone.

You shook your head although he couldn’t see. ‘’I’m sorry Jeremiah, but I think it’s best if I go by myself. I’ll call you when I get there.’’

⁂

Armed with your double espresso, you braved through the snowy roads and drove to Cousins. It was a wild guess, but you were confident enough that he was there. It was the place he went to every time he wanted to be with his mom again. That house was Susannah all over. She had handpicked everything that was inside, painted all the paintings on the walls, and placed every little trinket just the way she wanted.

Your family was disappointed that you had to cancel dinner at the last minute, but if Conrad was at the beach house, you couldn’t leave him alone. No one should spend Christmas alone. Especially not after losing a parent.

Propped and clipped to your car’s air vents, your phone screen showed several texts from Jeremiah, all trying to get more information about Conrad. You ignored them all and focussed on the road and taking the right directions.

After three hours, you finally arrived to Cousins. The small town was dark. Most small shops were closed — it was almost 11pm —, barely any houses were decorated for Christmas as most residents only came for the summer.

You pulled in the familiar driveway and parked your car. A light layer of snow coated the grounds, allowing the grass to peek through. The air was crisp, and you could see your breath as you walked up to the porch.

Using the spare key that was hidden under the doormat, you unlocked the door and let yourself in. It was dark and cold as the power was not turned on outside the summer months. The air was a bit stale too from being inhabited.

As you ventured further into the entryway, you could see light coming from the living room — the fireplace. Using that light to guide you, you called Conrad’s name. He had to be there. If he wasn’t, someone else was in the Fishers’ beach house.

The tension in your shoulders dropped when you saw him asleep on the couch, a thick plaid over his curled up body. He looked so small like this. You got closer and gently said his name, not wanting to startle him. Conrad was a light sleeper. He stirred, slowly waking, a mixture of surprise and sadness in his eyes when he saw you.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ Conrad asked, noticing your skirt and sheer tights. He knew it was Christmas eve. You should be with your family, not in Cousins.

‘’Jeremiah called me, he was worried,’’ you explained briefly.

‘’How did you know I was here? I didn’t tell anyone...’’

No one knew Conrad like you did. You were there through the good and the bad — and there was a lot of this bad this past year. You were the one who had brushed his tears at his mother’s funerals. You knew all of his favorite songs and picked up every time he called regardless of the time. You always knew just how to make him laugh.

You sat on the edge of the couch, giving your best friend a soft look. ‘’No one knows you like I do.’’

The smallest smile curled on his lips. ‘’I’m glad you’re here,’’ he admitted, a veil of tears in his eyes. ‘’I thought I wanted to be alone, but it makes me miss her more.’’

Your heart broke and you pulled him in your arms.

—

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

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anaitm0 · 5 months

Text

better?

summary: despite being nothing more than friends, reader and ruben share their first kiss in be snowy streets

pairing: !fwbruben x reader

it had finally snowed, and you and ruben were walking through the city, taking in the sight of the snow-covered streets and buildings.

"i can't believe how cold it is" you muttered, stuffing your hands into your pockets. "not even this jacket seems to make a difference”

ruben stopped and turned to you with a cute smile. "you don't have your jacket zipped up, silly"

"oh, right" you said sheepishly as he zipped up your jacket for you. a breeze of cold air blew through the streets, making you shiver slightly.

rubens smile turned to a look of concern, as he took off his scarf and draped it over your shoulders. "here, it's not much but it might help a little"

"thanks" you said warmly, your cheeks flushed from the cold. rubens smile grew wider as he looked at you, his eyes filled with admiration.

you and ruben kept walking, taking in the atmosphere of the city as snow fell lightly.

"you know, it could've snowed a bit more" you said playfully, tossing a snowflake into his face. "i had my hopes up for a proper winter.." you pouted.

ruben turned back to you with a playful smirk, brushing the snow off his face.

"maybe we can make a snowman!" you said, turning to ruben with excitement.

"if there's even enough snow.." he frowned, looking at the light snowfall.

"well, we're not gonna get anywhere with that attitude" you said playfully, taking a tiny snowball and throwing it in his face.

he was startled but couldn't help but laugh, brushing the snow off his face and tossing a snowball back at you.

the two of you kept playing until you started to shiver, the light snowfall having become a heavier flurry.

"are you cold?" ruben asked, noticing your shivering. you nodded as he took your hands in his.

"let me warm you up" he held onto you tightly, his arms wrapped around your body as he leaned close to kiss your forehead.

the light snowflakes fell around you, and the soft lights of the buildings shimmered.

rubens hand was almost hypnotic as he caressed your face, his touch making you flush and your heart swell with happiness.

"let me help you" he said with a smile, his face just a few inches from yours.

his voice was so soft and tender, and the sound of the snow against your ears made the moment feel even more magical.

he looked into your eyes for a brief moment and his gaze made you feel weak in the knees.

he pulled you in gently and your bodies were pressed against each other as he pressed your lips together.

the kiss was electric, and your entire body filled with heat and butterflies as rubens lips brushed against yours.

his hand on your cheek, the other caressing your back. the snowflakes fell around you as the two of you stood there, the kiss lingering on your lips.

the snow was falling ever so softly, almost like light fairy dust, as you looked up at the stars in awe.

"better?" ruben asked, taking your hand again.

you nodded, still blushing deeply.

you both continued walking together, hand in hand, enjoying the peace and quiet of this winter night.

#anaitm0 #ruben dias #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #footballer x reader #ruben dias fic #ruben dias blurb

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mr-bas00nist · 7 months

Note

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Ghost x Male reader; the two are on a mission in a cold snowy place (your choice) and reader falls through the ice and Ghost has to keep reader from dying from hypothermia when a storm comes in keeping the team from getting to them

Nothing Beats Feeling You

Cw: Angst and fluff, this was a cute one.

This wasn’t supposed to happen… you and Simon were sent on a mission in Iceland. You guys ran into trouble, enemy troops hot on your tail as you both ran across the snowy terrain separating from the team. You panted as you ran like the wind, seeing your own breath in the air, struggling to take in steady breaths from the frigid air.

You and Simon came to a halt as you both panted looking around. You wiped your forehead in relief. “I think we lost them..” You spoke breathlessly. Simon hummed in acknowledgment, too winded to even make a comment. “We need to move, no time to relax.” He spoke sternly as you and him continued walking no place in particular.

You both continued to walk when you paused for a moment. You looked down and realized you guys were walking on thin ice (literally). Your heart dropped when you saw Simon walk across it without a second glance. It was like everything went in slow motion. Your protective instincts kicked in. The sound of ice cracking knocked you out your trance as you pushed Simon away off the ice.

It couldn’t hold your body weight as you fell through into the well below zero water. Simon sat up panicked as he went to see where you fell. Already, a thick sheet of ice had covered the hole due to the freezing temperature. You began banging on the ice alerting Simon as he tried to break it.

Not only were you drowning but you were freezing which was just one more problem to add on. Your knuckles bled as you tried desperately to punch through the ice. Simon grabbed his combat knife as he began to pick at the ice. “You can’t die… no, no, no. I won’t allow it.”

Simon spoke with heavy pants as he strained trying to crack the ice. He finally made a crack in the ice as he punched it a few more times, it broke open. He quickly grabbed your arm yanking you out the water with no problem due to his burst of adrenaline. “Y/n?? Y/n?? Wake up!” Simon took you off the ice as he began trying to wake you up.

Your skin was ice cold and your teeth were chattering. He looked around panicked. No sign of life anywhere. It was all up to him. He took a deep breath before speaking. “Stay alive. I’m gonna get you outta ‘ere.” Simon picked you up as he put you on his back. He began to run as fast as he could to try and find something… anything to help you.

After who knows how long your eyes opened slowly. Everything was blurry. You felt the comforting feeling of heat and the smell of wood burning. You turned to your side sorely to see a fire crackling. Your eyebrows furrowed as your vision cleared. You felt gloved hands gently tracing patterns on your forehead. You squint your eyes to see Simon looking around the cave.

“Simon?” You spoke quietly as you looked down at yourself to see his jacket draped over you. You were still freezing but you way less cold. You could feel your own skin and blood flow again. “Your alright…. Thought I lost you.” Simon sighed heavily as he gently held your head. You couldn’t help but smile softly. “Takes a lot more than that to kill me….” You mutter as you slowly sat up with Simon’s help.

“I was trying to get ahold of the rescue squad but there’s a storm right now that’s breaking our connection. I’ll have to signal them when it ends. For now, we’re stuck in here.” Simon admits as you looked over to the fire. You rubbed the back of your head cracking your neck before looking over to Simon. He had a troubled look in his eyes.

He glanced up to you. “Why did you push me out the way?” He asked, genuine curiosity in his tone. You raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?” Simon doesn’t speak for a moment. “You could’ve died.” He spoke looking into your eyes. “It would’ve been worth it to save you.” You spoke calmly as you gave him a curt smile. He shook his head. “You’re so careless.” He pulled his baclava up to his nose before kissing you.

You were shocked by it but, it wasn’t unwelcome. You sighed as you reciprocated his feelings. You hugged him tightly relishing in his shockingly warm body heat even in this weather. “Thanks for taking care of me Simon. Don’t know what I would do without you.” You spoke quietly into his chest as he rubbed your back.

“Me neither..” He spoke softly, tone full of love.

#ghost x male reader #cod x reader #cod x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #Ghost X male reader #male reader

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the-travelling-witch · 2 months

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘'𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍

summary: the type of beauty the piercers/ tattoo artists in my modern au hold

characters: piercer!/tattoo artist! xiao :: scara :: kazuha :: venti :: aether :: heizou

my modern au || genshin masterlist

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 is beautiful like…

𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 like new leaves on a bush and budding flowers emerging from the ground; like lush moss and drops of dew clinging to grass in the morning; like the first warmth of the sun after a cold winter and a playful breeze curling through a garden; like the soft song of birds in the crisp morning air

𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 is beautiful like…

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 like the golden brilliance of the sun and the ripe sweetness of fruits; like the constellations of freckles on sunkissed skin and airy freedom of light clothes; like the laughs shared between friends and the coolness of diving into water; like the sun sinking behind the horizon and late nights spent outside in the warm air

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔 is beautiful like…

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 like the lights of festivals illuminating the night; like the afterglow of warmed skin and the combination of summer and autumn wardrobes; like watching the butterflies in the garden and harvesting fruits and vegetables; like getting surprised by tepid rain and watching stunning thunderstorms light up the sky

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀 is beautiful like…

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 like the leaves changing their colour and the sour sweetness of apples; like the earthy smell after rain and the crunch of stepping on leaves; like pulling your favourite sweater from the closet and the sound of rain against your window; like the smell of cinnamon and baked goods wafting through your kitchen

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 is beautiful like…

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 like the feeling of coming home after being out in the cold and warming your hands around a steaming mug of your favourite drink; like the scent of pine in the air and the swirls of frost decorating the windows; like the stillness of a snowy landscape and doodling on snowed in cars; like the reflection of icicles in the sun and your breath being visible in the air; like bundling up in a pile of cosy blankets and making fun of cliché rom coms

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 is beautiful like…

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 like the beginning of something new; like rivers breaking through their icy surface and misty morning sceneries; like the realisation you can leave your scarf at home and sitting outside in the sun for the first time again; like talking a walk through a blooming landscape and catching up with your friends again

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

Genshin Impact: @mccnstruck @teyvattales @silentmoths @ainescribe @meimeimeirin @dustofthedailylife @nsojbbkkm @kazuuhhaaaa @inufinuf @ynverse @nico707 @boba-is-a-soup @hellithides @ryuryuryuyurboat @the-guardian-kitsune

Modern Au: @r0ttenhearts @bananasquash @himimikyu @franaby

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novlr · 5 months

Note

What are some good ways to write about winter?

Winter. is a season of stark contrasts and sensory experiences. It provides the perfect canvas to paint vivid scenes that range from cosy romances to horror-filled stormy nights.

When writing about winter, it’s essential to capture the essence of its chill and the way it can transform the world. Here are some quick tips!

Sights

A blanket of pristine snow covering the landscape

Bare tree branches coated with frost

Delicate snowflakes drifting from the grey sky

Icicles hanging like crystal daggers from rooftops

Colourful clothes stark against the white of snow

Sunlight reflecting off the snow, creating a blinding glare

Animal tracks stamped into the powder

Frozen lakes and puddles

Man-made objects like snowmen and snow angels

Lights shining against dark backdrops

Sounds

Snow muffling and dampening the usual noises

Boots crunching on the frozen ground

People laughing and shouting as they play

Wind howling through barren branches

Ice cracking underfoot or on distant lakes

The silence of a snow-covered world

Shovels scraping against sidewalks

Snowballs hitting their targets with soft thuds

Branches creaking, laden with snow

The rustle of animals keeping warm in burrows

Smells

The fresh, clean scent of snow in the air

Wood smoke curling from chimneys

The earthy aroma of damp wool from coats and gloves

The sharp tang of frost and cold metal

Hot chocolate and marshmallows

Pine needles and the subtle scent of evergreen

Baking spices from holiday treats

The slight ozone smell before a snowstorm

Wet dog from snowball fights with furry friends

Leather and polish from well-worn boots

Activities

Building snow forts and castles

Ice skating on a frozen pond or rink

Snowshoeing through a silent forest

Curling up by the fire with a good book

Skiing and snowboarding down powdery slopes

Brisk walks to enjoy the winter air

Hiking up snowy mountains for panoramic views

Having snowball fights with friends or family

Feeding birds or wildlife braving the cold

Decorating the home with festive lights and ornaments

Character body language

Shivering and huddling for warmth

Rubbing hands together or blowing on them for heat

Shoulders hunched against the biting wind

Slipping and steadying oneself on icy patches

Squinting against the bright snow glare

Snuggling into oversized coats and scarves

Stamping feet to restore circulation

Clapping hands to keep the cold at bay

Arms wrapped around the torso for warmth

Quick, brisk movements to minimise exposure to the cold

Positive descriptions

The serene beauty of a snow-covered meadow at dawn

The invigorating feeling of cold air filling your lungs

The cosiness of a warm blanket on a frosty night

The joy of catching snowflakes on your tongue

The camaraderie of coming together to shovel snow

The nostalgia of winter holidays and traditions

The satisfaction of making the perfect snowball

The wonder of ice patterns on windows

The laughter and excitement of a snow day

The glistening of a frosted evergreen in the sun

Negative descriptions

The biting sting of the wind against exposed skin

The numbness of fingers and toes in the cold

The dreariness of shortened, grey days

The inconvenience of navigating slushy streets

The isolation of a blizzard keeping everyone indoors

The discomfort of wet socks and snow in your boots

The hazard of black ice on sidewalks and roads

The burden of heavy layers and winter gear

The dull ache of a cold that lingers

The gloom that can accompany the lack of sunlight

Helpful adjectives

Biting, chilly, frosty, glacial, icy

Crisp, brisk, sharp, piercing, raw

Fluffy, powdery, crunchy, slick, slippery

Dreary, overcast, bleak, sombre, grey

Cosy, snug, warm, toasty, plush

Twinkling, sparkling, shimmering, glistening

Silent, muffled, still, hushed, quiet

Fresh, clean, invigorating, brisk, bracing

Nostalgic, traditional, joyous, festive, celebratory

Isolating, inconvenient, burdensome, hazardous, gloomy

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teacheesee · 5 months

Text

snow and mistletoe - zoro x reader fluff!

gn reader, no pronouns!!

literally just a fluffy little thing i wrote before work bc i kept reading mistletoe prompts and i had to hop tf on that train. enjoy!!!

no warnings for this one, happy holidays everyone!!

You groaned as you rolled out of bed, the cool winter air hitting your feet as they landed on the wooden floor of your bedroom. another sleepless starless night, the gentle rock of the ship failing to lull you back to sleep. you ran a careless hand over your face as you opened the door and made the short yet cold trek to the ships kitchen.

You’d gotten into the habit of trying to move around on nights when you couldn’t sleep, and the kitchen was ripe with peace and warmth. so you pulled the door open and promptly shut it to prevent any more cold air from seeping into the room.

The kitchen was decorated in holiday lights, a small Christmas tree settled in the corner with a few small gifts laying under it. You smiled as you walked to set a kettle to boil, the notion of hot chocolate sounding especially appealing considering the mood.

You stirred the coco mixture into the warm milk and poured it into a mug. Digging in the fridge for the can of whipped cream, you almost missed the sound of the kitchen door opening and being pushed shut. It must’ve started snowing since you’d entered the kitchen, because Zoro nearly didn’t notice you either , too distracted by ruffling the snowflakes out of his hair.

His footsteps alerted you to his presence as he sat down heavily at the table. You turned around, having finally found the whipped cream.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t know you were still up,” you said.

He let out a small huff, stretching his neck so slightly.

“Just got done training. Didn’t know anyone else was awake.” You hummed, turning to the cupboard to grab another mug.

“You’re lucky I measure with my heart.” You poured the remainder of the hot chocolate into the mug and pushed it his way. Zoro opened his closed eyes and hooked a finger around the handle.

“Why are you even up anyways? Got night watch or something?” he inquired.

“Nah, just couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d come here and soak up some Christmas cheer while I still can.” You picked up your mug, noting the way the steam felt on your cold nose. You took a sip, unaware of the careful eyes watching as your tongue peeked out between your lips to wipe away any remaining whipped cream.

“I don’t think I’ll stick around though, I can already feel this putting me back to sleep,” you spoke through a yawn, heading towards the door.

“I like the way you think,” Zoro spoke, and you two made your way to the door.

He pushed it open, and you started to walk through before something above you caught your eye.

“Oh,” you pointed upwards. Zoro followed your gaze.

“Oh, oh yeah.”

You’d forgotten all about that mistletoe that Sanji had no doubt hung in the doorway.

“Well, no one’s here to enforce it and it’s just a stupid tradition anyways so who says we really have t—“ Before you could finish your sentiment Zoro had promptly cut you off.

The cold from the snowy weather outside was hardly a match for the warmth that bubbled up from your chest as Zoro gave you the briefest of kisses, just long enough to feel the heat of his chapped lips and the touch of his nose against your cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled as he walked towards his room, still shakily holding the mug of hot chocolate.

Maybe that was why the kiss was so sweet.

*.• merry christmas and happy holidays everyone i’m so sorry ive been actually MIA that’s my b lol 😖 hope you enjoyed this !!!!! meow meow

#zoro #one piece #zoro x reader #op zoro #writers on tumblr #roanoa zoro #one piece zoro #one piece fluff #zoro fluff #christmas #christmas fluff

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drooperz · 4 months

Text

A snowy morning

He looks so darn cute in this picture

Summary: you're neighbors with John and you ask to join him on little outing with his friends when it snows! Just having a jolly ol' time!

John Lennon x reader :) fluff and all that

As the warm sun peaked through the curtains, you roused from your comfy sleep. Tussling a little bit in your sheets, you remembered what you hoped for last night.

You were practically itching to see if there was a layer of cold white laying upon the street. But getting out of bed was difficult due to how cold your room felt compared to how cozy the duvet felt wrapped around you. Every time you moved outside the designated warmth that enveloped you, your body practically shivered from head to toe.

It was torture.

But, you had the brilliant idea of bundling yourself up in the covers and getting up to look out the window.

Even when you cringed as your feet touched the chilly ground you crept towards the window excitedly and peaked through the crack of morning light in between the curtains.

You looked outside, the street was covered in white. Every front garden you could see was covered in a thick layer of pure white snow.

You thought about how cold it would be compared to your chilly room now, already mentally preparing an outfit for making snow angels without freezing or able to withstand a snowball fight (if one were to break out).

You were so ecstatic, practically jumping up and down on the spot, barely able to contain yourself! You needed to go outside instead of being indoors. Reluctantly, you shrugged off the warm duvet and felt the heat radiating slightly from it when it circled around you...

You'll pick it up later! Right now you need to get warm!

You tried getting some thick clothes to go outside but they were all cold, ironically.

You cringed as your shirt wrapped around you, like a chilly hug, sucking all the warmth from your torso and arms. Eventually, the material soon warmed up and you felt snug again.

Barely wasting any time, you had a quick glass of water and put your winter gear on.

Hat, check! Gloves, check! Boots, check! Big coat to keep me extra warm, heck yes!

You fumbled getting your keys in the front door with your gloved hands but did it anyways.

The freezing air kissed your warm face and your breath turned to steam against the sun's rays.

You barely took a step outside until you heard, "Hello, y/n!" A distinctive voice shouted.

You scanned the street to see where the voice called you, "Hello John! Good morning!" You exclaimed.

John lived just opposite your house, you'd see him around sometimes and often greet each other fondly. He would often talk to you when he got the chance, he was extremely charismatic and had a particular knack at keeping a conversation interesting.

"You're up early!" He beamed, making his way over to your side of the road, you watched his long coat sway and scarf bounce with every careful step. You smiled.

"Is the road slippery?" You asked, suddenly concerned he might slip.

"Nah, it's not too bad." He leaned over your garden wall as you stepped over the snow, enjoying the sound of the strange squeaks and frozen grass peaking out under your footprints.

"What are you up to then?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

"Hah, I was so excited about the snow last night I could barely sleep!" You laughed and he smiled at you, "I just wanna enjoy it before it melts." You smiled back at him and he lifted his eyebrows up.

"Well, me friends rung me up this morning and asked if I wanted to go to a field before anyone else gets to all the fresh snow." He said calmly, you opened the front wooden gate and stepped through onto the pavement.

You thought for a second, surely just walking around in the cold alone would be pretty boring... Right? You wondered if John would let you tag along.

"Do you mind if I come with you?" You asked cautiously, a bit of socializing and having fun in snow sounds like a good day.

"By all means," he skipped forward with a prep in his step, "the more the merrier, I'm sure the lads wont mind me bringing a plus one." He grinned again and you felt relieved.

"Thanks John." A smile spread across your face again.

The street was so so quiet. The bitter cold made it seem so still and empty, it was almost like it was only you and John in the whole neighborhood...

It was strange...

But also nice.

He lead you along the snowy pavement, both of you plowing a trail through the snow.

"It almost looks like a sandy desert." John stated into the stillness and you observed the road having been entranced by the snow rolling around your boots as you walked through it.

"It really does, doesn't it?" Snow peaked and fell on the road, in gardens, on cars and rooftops almost like little dunes, "Very, very cold desert." You laughed.

"Too right, I feel like I should have worn ten other scarfs." He joked, trying to pull the fabric over his nose.

You laughed, "if I had another one I'd give it to you."

"You'd give me one of ya scarfs?" He stood in front of me, leaning down a little, "Praise be ya y/n! Ye have the generosity of a saint!" He clasped his gloved hands together and shook them violently.

You laughed at him loudly and the sound reverberated around the, otherwise silent, neighborhood, "oh god, didn't mean to be that loud." You giggled at him, holding his shoulder.

"You're having fun, don't fret." He said kindly, "Oh, we gotta go though here," there was a small path that led behind some houses to an open field that most people would frequent, "not far now." He rubbed his gloved hands together and grinned.

The suns rays were warm both in feeling and colour, elongating the trees bare silhouette upon the pale snow. The path was wide enough for the two of you to walk together but you preferred to stay behind John for the meantime.

"you alright?" You asked, just checking on him.

"All good lovey." He looked back and grinned, "get over 'ere next to me." He ushered you with his hand and you caught up with him quickly. Trailing behind him didn't last long...

You smiled up at him and continued walking together.

As you trodded through the cold, you started to hear the sounds of other people at the end of the small trail. You suddenly felt a little nervous meeting John's friends. You didn't want to intrude on their dynamic and be awkward, not knowing what to say or do.

But as you walked closer, you could see the three silhouettes jumping and playing about. You smiled slightly, feeling relief that the people you're meeting are just as childish excited about the snow as you are.

"AYE PAUL!" John hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth for maximum attention.

One of them stood straight up and waved, Lennon chuckled, "I'll introduce you to the lads, c'mon." He looked down at you and took your hand, smiling widely.

As he lead you towards the approaching group you scanned the wide field covered entirely with white, smooth snow. Unlike the streets, there were hardly any ebbs or dips, it looked soft. Almost like a blanket. The sun was so golden here that you could see all of John's friends breath swirl and disappear with every step closer. John was the same, each breath out caught the sun and dissipated before lingering in the still air.

"John! You alright?" You assume Paul stepped forward in a big padded fur coat, he had a stiff posture and kept his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, you?" He replied plainly.

"I'm bloody freezing!" He tried to hide as much as his face underneath his jacket and laughed, only his pretty eyes and tussled black hair were visible.

"Who's that with ya John?" The one with blue eyes asked.

"Well, you see, this here is y/n!" He said calmly, swinging our joined hands and a dumb grin stretched across your face.

"That's y/n?" The one with the skinny face and dark hair said.

"I'm sure it is y/n, are you y/n?" John looked down at you jokingly.

"I hope I am." You all laughed briefly.

"You're a laugh, no wonder John goes on about you." He moved closer to you, "I'm George, and that's Ringo." He pointed towards the blue eyed man and he waved. They were all so smiley.

"Who wouldn't go on about you!" John practically spun to face you and picked you up with a bone crushing hug. In a second, just before he put you back down, you could feel his warmth radiating from inside his jacket and his breath on your face as he smothered you.

"There'd be nothing to go on about if you hug 'em like that again." Ringo laughed, you heard the other two laugh with him.

"You're so cute," he continued, still very close to you, you don't think the others heard what he was saying, "you're gonna stick with me, aren't 'cha?" He looked down at you, his face rather close to yours. You noticed how long John's lashes were with the proximity, he often teased you like this to get a reaction out of you.

"Yeah," you managed to breathe out, "I- I'll stick."

He grinned that sly, cheeky grin he always did.

The other lads were already chattering amongst themselves about something and you were just watching as they did so, John had put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you next to him.

Author's note: Late, late, late Christmas gift also its not snowing where I live right now but I'd love it if it did 😭😭😭

#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #the beatles x reader #love this dude #fluff #snow day #cute

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littlespacereader · 5 months

Text

It’s the Doctor Who Christmas Eve fic! This idea came to me on the plane back from college and I just love the idea of having the Doctor pass out and the reader being like “well I better make him comfy”. Thank you to everyone who voted on the poll for the Tenth Doctor! Please enjoy this adorable tale with the Doctor!

A Stranger Invited to Christmas💚❤️🎅🎄

Caregiver!Tenth Doctor & GN Little!Reader (SFW)

Tags - meeting the Doctor for the first time, taking care of him then vice versa, sippy cups, pacifier, stuffies, cuddles, mentions of Santa and Christmas

Leave it to me to forget milk the night before Christmas. It’s no bother though, a quick trip to the shop and back home never hurt no one. After all who can go without milk on Christmas? What would I leave for Santa? Water? Come on!

With my grocery bag in hand, I walked down street to my flat. Christmas is going to be a little different this year. My family was planning on coming to visit but sadly caught a cold that’s been going around.

That meant Christmas alone this year. I mean I can’t lie, I’m a little bit bummed out I won’t be seeing my family.

Thankfully I have my stuffie family to keep me company for Christmas. That didn’t bother me, if anything it was an excuse to regress the whole holiday season away. I mean who doesn’t want to regress and watching movies like Frosty all night long?

The cold air filled my lungs with a deep breath in. With a deep breath out smoke blew around my face with my warm breath hitting the cold air of the night.

Suddenly a squeak broke my thoughts. It sounded like a bird that was calling out for hell. I turned to the source of the noise and followed it to a bush. Something was ruffling the leaves of it but I couldn’t see the animal.

“It’s okay! I’m not hurt you. I just wanna help.”

It was as if the animal heard me because it came out from its hiding spot in the bush. It looked like…well…actually I don’t know what it is.

It looks like a mole mixed with a bunny. It has this small body with fluffy black fur and big ears. Its hands were similar to a mole’s paws with a long hairless tail behind it that looked similar to one of a rats.

It started to walk over to me on its two back paws as it held its front paws together.

“It’s okay! You’re safe now. What happened?”

I walked towards the fuzzy creature and was about to lean down when…

“LOOK OUT!!” A man grabbed and tackled me on the side. The two of us went tumbling down onto the snowy ground.

He tackled me just in time because the creature hissed and shot some sort of venom where I was originally standing.

The two of us sat up from the ground and looked ahead at the creature scurrying away.

“What is that thing?!”

“It’s a Buried Darthrow Fling. Really nasty creatures despite how cute they look,” The man replied.

He grabbed something at his pocket and flung it ahead where the…Buried Darthrow Fling…was running away.

His aim was perfect because it hit the creature and suddenly it disappeared into thin air.

I started at the blank space where the creature once stood in shock and disbelief…

WHAT JUST HAPPENED?

I stood up and ran over to there the animal once was and my eyes were not deceiving me, it had disappeared.

I turned to the man as he stood up from the snowy ground, “How did that? What? What just happened?”

“I apologize for tackling you but if that Buried Darthrow Fling got venom on you, you would’ve fallen into a coma.” He said casually.

“A coma?”

“Yup.”

“And it disappeared from that thing in your pocket?”

“Yeah,” he picked up another one from his pocket and held it out for me to look at. “See? Nothing too fancy, it just teleports back to its home planet.” He added again…casually.

“Planet? Teleporting? So it’s an alien?!” I was starting to lose my mind.

“I can see you’re a bit overwhelmed. So why don’t we start over.”

He brushed the snow off his long brown trench coat and walked over to me.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m the Doctor.” He held his hand out to shake.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet-.” I started to say before I paused mid sentence.

On his hand was this blue gel splattered across it. He must’ve saw my hesitation and looked at his hand. That’s when he saw the gel too.

“Oh no.”

“Oh no? What’s wrong?” I asked looked at his worried expression.

“The Buried Darthrow Fling must’ve got me when I tackled you.”

My eyes widened, “Oh my God. We gotta get you to the hospital!”

“No no, no hospitals I’ll be fine.” The Doctor started to say before his eyes started roll back and he fell onto his knees.

I ran over and helped him back up. He grabbed my arm, “Okay…maybe it’s starting to have an effect on me.”

I wrapped his arm around my shoulders to get him back on his feet and more steady, “We need to get you to the hospital before you slip into a coma.”

“No I’ll be okay,” he pulled a device from his jacket pocket. It made a weird noise and glowed blue as he hovered it over his hand.

Then after a moment he pulled it up to his face to read. “I won’t go into a coma because my body is built a bit differently than yours.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m not human.” He said, putting his glowy pen thing away.

“You not-.” I stopped myself before I could really wrap my mind around it.

“I just need a place…to take a quick…nap.” He said as he started to drift off again.

I helped him to his feet, holding onto his arm around my shoulders with one hand and wrapping my arm around his back with the other.

“My flat is just around the corner here, you can rest there.” I explained as I turned him around and helped him start walking towards my apartment.

“Thank you, that will be *yawn* nice.”

With that the two of us started carefully walking back to my flat.

“I’m sorry…about all this…” his head bobbed up and down as he fought against sleeping.

“It’s not your fault. I was the idiot looking at the strange creature.”

“Well, you didn’t know any better….so no need to apologize. But what are you doing out so late…on Christmas?” He asked between yawns.

“I forgot to get milk for Santa so I went out to a shop…to pick it up…” I started to trail off.

With a quick look over his shoulder I could make out the faint puddle in the distance behind us, which no doubt was my milk carton splattered all over the payment.

“Oh…” The Doctor trailed off as he realized what must’ve happened. “I’m so sorry, I’ll…I’ll make it up to you…”

“Don’t worry about it, I rather have no milk and not be in a coma.” I joked getting a smile from the Doctor.

~~~

Finally we made it back to my flat. As we got closer I could feel the Doctor start to get more and more drowsy. Standing at the door and trying to unlock while also holding onto him was a bit of a challenge but one I managed.

The door swung open. I guided him to my small but cozy living room.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? You’re not going into a coma?” I asked still extremely worried. I helped him take his long tan coat off then sit on the couch.

“No, no, no. I just need a little nap to get the side effects…to ware off and then…then I’ll be okay. Promise.” He said drifting off.

The worrying started to get to my regression. I held my hand out, pink facing toward him. “Pinky promise?”

He smirked and lifted his tired hand toward mine, wrapping his pink around my own. “Pink promise Y/N.”

“Just…a little…rest that’s…all…” I help him lay on the couch as he started to drift off both what he was saying and off to sleep.

Then it was just me with a sleeping stranger on my couch.

All at once the events hit me like a train and suddenly I felt the reality of everything. He’s an alien, we were attacked by an alien, and now he’s taking a rest on my couch.

No not strange at all, totally not. Why would it be?! It sort felt like a crazy dream I was a part of. But this this was real, this is really happening. This is going to be a Christmas to remember.

With reality and panic setting in, I could stop myself from regressing any further. The panic seemed to slip away as I let myself regress to let go of everything that just happened.

Now fully feeling like my true little self I stared at the stranger in the brown suit and converse. He was very nice to me and he did save my life hence why he was passed out on the couch.

If he was my guest for Christmas, I might as well make him comfy. So off I rushed to the bedroom to grab some supplies.

With arms full, I ran back and got to work. First I draped a soft light pink blanket across his body. Then I gave him a soft pillow behind his head, then to finish it off I surrounded him with not one but about ten different stuffies. I couldn’t have him waking up without friends around him.

Satisfied with the results I rushed off to make myself comfy for the night. It wasn’t too late and I didn’t have a Caregiver to tell me not to stay up…

With Christmas pajamas on, a sippy cup full of juice and a Christmas pacifier in mouth, I sat on the ground infront of the couch as Frosty the Snowman playing on the tv. I would watch Frosty and check on the sleeping strange periodically.

But as the night went on, it became harder and harder to stay awake.

~~~

When The Doctor began to wake up, a few things popped into this mind. For one, he felt very comfortable. He’s hasn’t felt this cozy in a long long time.

Memories started to flood his mind of the past 24 hours. Flying around in the Tardis, getting a notification of a dangerous Buried Darthrow Fling, searching around all of England for it and meeting Y/N. Then of course getting the venom on his hand and passing out.

There was a movie playing in the background. It sounded familiar but something he couldn’t quite place at the moment. Then he heard something that warmed his hearts, a pure and happy giggle.

It was enough to push through the tiredness and open his eyes. And what he saw brought a smile to his face.

Y/N, his newest friend and couch-lender was sitting next to the couch in some Christmas themed pajamas. Beside them was a stuffie, a sippy cup and some biscuits on a tiny plate. On the tv played the new cartoon version of the grinch.

Every so often Y/N would be watching the scene before their head would be nodding off. Then when they realized, they would jump back up and continue watching.

The Doctor realized in two seconds what was going on. It had been far too long since he had seen a Regressor. On his home planet, regressing was as normal as sneezing, but on Earth it wasn’t as well know. Which is a shame the Doctor thought.

He began to sit up on the couch, and that’s when he realized why he was so comfy. He was wrapped in a soft pink blanket and surrounded by plushies.

“You’re awake!”

The Doctor turned to see a wide eyed Little staring back at him.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?!” Their pacifier fell to the ground as the began to ramble on worried as ever.

“I’m alright. Better now actually than I was before. And even more better thanks to all of these friends that kept me nice and safe while I slept.”

He picked up one of the stuffies, a frog, and smiled. “What’s this one’s name?”

“Tiana. Just like the princess. By your hip is her husband Naveen.” Y/N pointed out.

The Doctor smiled and picked the other frog up. With the married frogs reunited he shook their feet. “It is nice to meet such a lovely couple.”

That caused Y/N to giggle at the Doctor’s silliness. But their giggle caused them to yawn soon after. That caught the Doctor’s attention.

“Y/N, how long have you been up?” He asked before looking around for a clock in their flat.

”Don’t know…wanted to make sure you were okay.” They said with another yawn.

Below the tv sat one that read 11:30pm. “It’s almost midnight! It’s far too late for someone as young as you. Come on, off to bed.” He stood up and walked over to where they were sitting.

The Doctor could see there was a bit of hesitancy in their eyes. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are you going to do? Are you going back to bed?”

“No. No, I’ve slept enough for at least another two years. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to go to bed.”

“But…are you going to leave me?”

The question came out as broken and as sad as it could possibly sound.

Sure the Doctor had plenty of other things he had to do. He had to figure out how that creature got to Earth, he had to fix something in the Tardis’ engine…

But the look of wonder, of happiness and of concern for him on Y/N’s face struck something in him. It had been a while since he had a companion. Rose…well…she was gone. And recently Martha had left.

He wasn’t good alone, he knew that, but he always seemed to be alone. That was until now.

Now he had a chance to have a companion again. A friend to travel all throughout time and space with. But not only that, now he now had a Little to care for and watch over.

Plus it was Christmas Eve, and he was always a softie for Christmas.

He bent down, sitting across from them on the ground. He took their hands in his. “As long as you want me here, I’ll stay. I’ll even be happy to take care of you if you need. After all you took such good care of me. Let me return the favor.”

Y/M smiled and squeezed his hands back. “Yes!! I’d love you to stay! We can celebrate Christmas together!”

The Doctor smiled back, “Then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“But first things first! We gotta get you ready for bed!” The Doctor jumped up off the ground and offered his hand to Y/N to help them up.

Once up and hand in hand, the Doctor turned on his heels to go toward their bedroom but was stopped when Y/N pulled his arms back.

“Wait! We gotta put our cookies out for Santa.”

“Right, of course. We can’t forget about Santa now can we?” He winked.

So off to the small kitchen the two went to fetch some biscuits for Santa. Then there they sat, a tiny plate with two biscuits, some carrots for the reindeer and a glass of juice. With it sat a note to be read later.

The two stood back and admired their work. “You think Santa will like it?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t think he’ll like it. I think he’ll love it.” The Doctor smiled.

Y/N nodded and yawned. The Doctor took that as his cue to get his little one to bed.

“Alright you’ve been up far far too long. Time to go to bed before Santa arrives.” He lifted them into his arms and started to carry them off to bed.

Suddenly the clocks chimed, indicating that it was midnight and officially Christmas Day.

Despite being sleepy Y/N still lifted their head off his shoulder to look at the Doctor with a smile, “Merry Christmas Doctor!” They leaned forward and hugged him tightly.

He hugged back just as tight, “Merry Christmas Y/N!”

Y/N fell asleep soon after. All wrapped up in their fuzzy blanket cuddling close to the Doctor. And the Doctor? He held them close like a protective Caregiver would. And for the first time and a long time, he was happy. Truly and blissfully happy.

The note in the living room to Santa read as followed:

Dear Santa,

We apologize for the juice instead of milk. We almost fell into a coma trying to get milk. But thankfully we’re alive but without milk so please enjoy the glass of juice instead. Please thank the reindeers for their hard work and tell Ms. Clause Merry Christmas from us!

Sincerely,

Y/N and The Doctor

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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journey to kintsugi ▹prologue

— A/n 📝Reblogs and comments make all the difference. I do not allow my work to be translated or uploaded to any other place. My tip jar if you enjoy this story a lot and feel like it. ☕️ You can read this chapter on AO3. Word count: [3.9k] — Warnings⚠️ mature content—violence, mentions of death, gore — canon-typical themes; Minors DNI.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMain Masterlist | Official Playlist | Series Masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▹ Close Your Eyes

Winter was far from kind to those that had no idea how to fend for themselves and the child you see walking a few meters away from you, hunting alone and scared in cold, has only a couple of days left. Three, if luck was on their way.

They knew some things to stay alive, but not enough. They had company, too. Inside the cabin, someone waited for their return, you were certain of it. By the ramblings the wind carried as the kid tries hunting for food you knew that much — a family member, most likely, or a friend they made along the way if their disposition to keep the person alive is anything to go by, and curiosity gnaws at your fingers to approach and discover who.

Ultimately, you refrain from it.

That lasts for a while — you help from a distance and repeat the mantra that's kept you alive until now, gritting your teeth at the instinct twisting your guts to go, help, help them, you need to help.

Regardless of how much you fight or deny it, both of them end up in your path in less than five days.

A change that would affect not only their lives but yours, deeply. Irreversibly. And forever.

Keep your distance. Always be alert.

It worked, for a while. But... Distance only works if there is no connection.

The power a name holds is enough of a connection for so many things. Enough worry to grow in your bones like vines until you are following a track down the snowy mountains. Until you are putting behind you everything you've branded to your skin for the past thirteen years and mingle, mixing with outsiders as if that ever worked.

For three days and three nights, you offered what you could as help to the child. Convincing yourself that, at least, you could do, you pitched in a ghostly hand to keep the young one alive — an easier hunt, or clearing the path they leave behind since they never learned how to, or an offering of food on the first hard night where no attempts from their part resulted in anything.

Then, a name, and everything freezes before it sets into motion.

"Ellie."

Then, they're no longer 'the child' or 'them'. They're Ellie, and Ellie is in danger. That's all it takes.

All you have is a name, but the purpose comes easily.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⤎ ⤎ ⤎

It happens on the fourth night. As you finish the perimeter rounds of the forest, you hear the familiar sound of a voice you've grown to recognize.

Without thinking, your feet move you toward the direction, instinct keeping you in the dark and silent at all times. Although the kid is young, they are far from innocent or harmless.

Despite their wild and occasionally sad behavior, their banter with themselves is adorable. You've grown fond of it, despite your best efforts to remain detached from the situation as a whole.

It's a few steps before they come into sight that you hear they're not alone.

Everything halts — your movements, the air around you, and the bubble of security you felt wrapped around you.

Then, it hits why — both voices are familiar.

Only the second one should know fucking better than to be this far up high these mountains. Your mountains. Knowing exactly who he is and what the likes of him do, his warning came long ago.

David knew better.

He should fucking know better than to be up here, considering you said the exact words 'if I see you in my woods again, you're a dead man'. Crystal clear as water from the source. As the streams of sunlight hit through the glass — what was he doing here?

Willing your body out of the freezing state, you stepped close enough to listen.

"... my buddy, James." Fucking James. He's with David, and you should have killed both of them long ago if you were being honest. Blood started boiling hot in your veins as you placed yourself between the trees carefully enough to see and hear the situation. "We come from a larger group of people," David lied through his teeth, setting his trap of false humanity and security in him. "Women, and children. We're all pretty hungry."

As soon as he said it, you eyed the deer bleeding on the ground near the kid.

Shot by an arrow.

They did it. All on their own.

A strange and unexpected surge of pride rushed through the icy fortress of your ribcages.

"Yeah, same here." The kid you might know for only days, but you smiled as you sensed their lie, too. Knew of their lie. Good for them. "Women, children. We're all hungry too."

"Uh... Perhaps we can offer a trade?" David offered. "For some of your meat." That clever, rotten bastard. "Doesn't even have to be all of it. We have things you might need. Clothes, ammo, food—"

"Medicine!" The interruption came across as desperate as it probably was.

So this was what they needed. If only you knew earlier.

"Antibiotics, d'you have any?" the kid asked. That meant the person they hunted for daily and went back to tend for most of the day was bruised. Badly bruised, and likely infected.

"Yeah. Not much, but, we do. Back at the camp." No! You froze again, your heart beating faster in your chest. "We could show you what we have. If you follow us back—"

"I'm not following you anywhere." Good. The deadly grip you suddenly had on your own bow loosened. "He can go. Jason, wasn't it? Yeah. He brings it here and we make the trade."

Every part of this is wrong. All the possible scenarios of this ending in the shitshow you know it could rush through your mind, and you want to scream while David and Jason trade looks, nodding to each other.

"Two bottles of penicillin for—" he pauses, looking back at the kid.

Their grip on the arrow and bow is steady. You've seen them crying, biting their fist, talking to themselves and doing their absolute best over the past few days, but now you see them clearly.

"Ellie." So it's a girl. With the coat always on and the distance, you kept yourself from guessing. "And Jason," Ellie directs her gaze to the man. "over there... better come back alone. With the medicine. Once you hand it over to me, the deer can be all yours. You guys go your way, and then I go mine. Alright? If anyone else shows up—"

"I know," David interrupts. Ellie must've given a warning before, and David confirms it by repeating the words you missed. "You'll put one right between my fuckin' eyes." The pats the tip of his finger to the location. Ellie nods, and you wish you saw her face now instead of his.

"That's right."

David and Jason share yet another look, and Jason leaves.

Your window of time to make a decision starts, and it narrows as soon as Jason's out of sight and Ellie demands David's rifle for herself.

He puts himself in a vulnerable position by doing so.

He obeys her without protest, then puts on his best 'tired' face for his next act. He then suggests it is cold — which it is — and they could at least wait for Jason's return in the abandoned warehouse a few feet behind them. Looking solemn. Harmless.

You should shoot him right there and then, but it might scare her. James might be coming back with penicillin.

No 'mights' made up for the fact that as David dragged the deer inside and Ellie followed suit, the invisible clock of her possible safety — and the chances of an unforgettable trauma — rose like the tide.

The voice of your elders started ringing in your ear.

Outsiders are danger. Nothing but danger.

You should run away. There was no real reason as to why you should help — more than you already had — a strange child whom you never met. Who had someone waiting for her high up in the mountains. Someone who could be equally if not more dangerous than her. Who could thank you for saving their companion by putting a bullet between your eyes.

Death arrived to people for less.

Fear and uncertainty hold you behind the trees for longer than you cared for. Longer than you or the girl have, longer than it should if you want to offer any help. You want to run back to your safety. Run away from the dangers that this could bring to your life, but your gut rearranges itself every second you waste in thinking about leaving her behind.

Sure, you could not intervene. She's not your responsibility. She could probably make it out of this alive.

Still...

Fuck.

Your gut pulled you forward, and you were moving.

Adrenaline spiked your veins, filling through you like scotch does, warming everything in its path.

Entering the warehouse stealthily is not a problem — how you'll get Ellie out of there is.

They're too distracted with each other to hear you coming.

There's a gun — David's gun — still pointed at him, and it makes a smile form behind your scarf.

She's good.

If your instinct is right — as it always it, no matter how much you hate to remember or try to deny it — this girl's a survivor and someone worth the trouble. There's no time anymore for you to second-guess all the risks you're putting yourself under just to get her away from the slimy, horrible hands of David and the likes of his.

"...to trust people nowadays. I get that." David knows how to talk.

So do you. "David."

Both sets of eyes lift towards you. Ellie goes from someone who was starting to let her guard down to hiding her panic behind the gun. You know so because you can see her fidgetiness in your peripheral vision, but your focus remains on him right now.

David raises both hands in the air, trapped between the threat of your arrow and his own gun in the girl's hands.

"The last words I spoke to you were very clear. You have no business in these woods." Or anywhere else. "Tell me why I shouldn't shoot."

"Who the fuck are you?!" demands Ellie. "Who is she?! You know her?"

"Unfortunately." David might be a master manipulator, but his mask is slippery. "She's a savage."

You scoff. "I'm the savage." The irony. If you want Ellie to not shoot you, there's something you need to do. "Hi, kid. I live in these woods. The man standing next to you is a cannibal. And a rapist. And worth less than any bullet in that gun."

Each word after 'hi kid' is enunciated with clarity, and when you finish, you do it — danger danger dangerdanger— you look away from him for a second, making eye contact with her for the first time.

Ellie's eyes are wide.

Drowning in fear.

It makes acid burn in the pit of your stomach.

With the aid of your shoulder, you keep the aim on David as you pull your scarf down so she'll see your face.

Not a stranger. No danger to you.

"Kid, don't listen to this—"

"Shut up."

It's almost... comical. The way both of you say it at the same time.

"I have no reason to lie to you," your gaze now shifts between Ellie and David, who started sweating and fidgeting as well. "I don't want your meat. All I want is him..." you pin him under your eyes, watching his every move. "Out of my woods."

"I thought you wanted me dead," says David. He almost smiles.

It makes you sick. "Don't tempt me."

"Why d'you care, then?" asks Ellie. "If you don't want what I hunted, why d'you give a shit if he's scum? I have his gun pointed at his head and his buddy's about to bring me the only thing I need. I don't need your help."

Why do I care? What an excellent question, kid.

The guiding voice in your mind answers with — Never run from your gut, Lupi. It'll always lead you right. It's your True North.

"All she wants is to confuse you. Just shoot her," says David. "Have I given you any reason to think I wanna hurt you?"

And oh — wrong move.

Ellie frowns. The crease dips between her eyebrows, and she looks between David and you.

She's a clever one. People never give you reasons before hurting you.

Then, something happens. When Ellie looks back at you and your gazes meet, something lights up in her head and she straightens up, her posture changing from the feral-like behavior of someone who's trapped in a corner.

"It's you," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "You... the rabbits with broken feet. You helped me."

You have to fight back a smile. "Seems like you don't need my help anymore," you reply, the sass slipping out despite the need for seriousness.

Ellie's mouth twitches at the corner.

A scream of frustration is the only warning you get.

David uses the second of distraction as you two share a look and smashes his body against Ellie, knocking the gun out of her hand and then proceeding to pull his pistol out of his back pocket, pointing the gun at her head.

Freezing you at the spot. Again.

"Alright, back off." Mask off, David is a whole different person. He pulls Ellie a few steps back as she grunts in the chokehold of his arm, but when the barrel touches her temple, the cold metal settles her, washing over her body like a bucket of cold ice. Reality. "Why the fuck did you have to meddle, huh? Since when d'you give a damn about random fucking strangers? I thought outsiders meant danger," he spits the last word.

Despair makes people reckless, Lupi. But it also makes them stupid.

You breathed in, willing the words to be your own cloak of reality, and breathed out through your lips.

"Is he bringing the medicine?" you asked.

David frowned at you, startled by the question.

"Just answer the goddamn question."

"Of course he is. I wanted her to trust me." David looks from you to Ellie. "Knew it the second I saw her... that she's special." He moves some of her out of her face with the barrel of the gun. "Aren't you?"

"So what — you were gonna give me the penicillin and then let me go?" Ellie asks in disbelief.

"Of course. You'd need more. I'd convince you to come to me. I'd show you I can protect you."

"Yeah, I feel so protected right now," spits Ellie.

David huffed in frustration. "Well... there's always the other way. I'm sure that with time you could be convinced to be good. I always wanted a more... wild pet."

The words make your insides twist, and your brain wrecks itself with ways to make this all go away.

"What the fuck—" Ellie triest wiggling away from him, but you see it.

David pushed his body, molding it against hers. "You'd be good, eventually."

Your own despair threatens to make you stupid, but you fight back. There's no time for stupidity in your hands, not if you want Ellie — and yourself at this point — to make it out alive.

So you put a plan in motion.

Pretending to hear something, you look away from both.

That catches David's attention.

This will be a risk. A huge one, but at the same time, if he rubs himself on Ellie just one more time, you might snap and try something that goes beyond ridiculous, like shooting an arrow between his eyes even though he has a gun pointed at a child's head.

"Clickers."

With one word, you try to ignore the ice in your veins as you back away from them.

Fear is the greatest poison. It works the fastest.

David lets you go, and you exit the warehouse hearing him say: "Shut up — I didn't hear anything. If she did, she can handle herself."

Stupid fucker.

Stupid, dead fucker.

As soon as you're out of their sight, you do a double-check to make sure you hear nothing. Then, you open one of the pockets in your pants and retrieve the small plastic container.

There's a dart already loaded in the blowgun.

All you need is a security check before executing the plan.

Finding an open spot in the warehouse is easy — numerous windows are cracked, and the snow makes your movements silent.

When both Ellie and David are in perfect view again, all you have to do is aim.

Your expertise.

Bullseye.

The dart hits David's neck. In three seconds, he's out on the floor.

You hear Ellie cursing and you're about to head back inside when you hear footsteps approaching, and you know who it is before you even turn around.

James has only the time to take note that it's you.

His eyes catch on the scarf you pulled back over your nose — they widen at the sight of black and painted scales, and fear is his downfall.

The arrow you aim at hits his forearm, clean through.

The gun drops, and his scream echoes.

Loud bastard.

You rush to where he is and pick up the bag in his other hand after securing his gun in your satchel. Checking inside, the penicillin and syringe are there.

James is groaning, crying in pain as he clutches his arm. The red in the snow is not enough in your opinion.

"He's alive inside. You're alive here. Consider that an act of mercy on my behalf and a final warning." You take a step back and make sure his eyes are on his before you speak your last words. "I'll have no words for any of you the next time. Only death."

A part of you wishes there would be a next time. Leaving James alive is not something you want.

When you turn around, Ellie's standing there with a weapon pointed at you, but unlike the last time, she's shaking.

You sigh.

Her eyes are fixed on you and the bag that's in your hands.

"That's mine," she says.

"I know." You throw it at her feet. "All yours."

Despite knowing you've helped her, she's still shocked.

"It was you, right? The dart?" she asks.

Both of you ignore James's noises. You nod. "If James over here manages to carry that sack of shit back home, they'll live." Maybe. The dart is also poisonous, but you keep that to yourself. If they raided penicillin, they can revert your poison. Maybe.

"I need..." Ellie's shaking. "I need to—"

"Let's go." You want her out of here.

To your surprise, Ellie follows.

You go back inside, and you retrieve a rope from your satchel to secure the deer with her help. Adrenaline helps with carrying the deer up the mountain, but snow slows you both down.

It gives you two the time to come down from the high. To process what just happened in the silence that is only interrupted by the howling of the wind and the noises of you two making your way up.

Silence is only as suffocating as the situation, and this one is stiff.

When you pause, so does Ellie. "Five minutes rest." The warehouse has been out of sight for a few minutes now, which means the distance is safe.

Ellie sits next to the deer. She's no longer shaking, but the shock is still imprinted on her face.

She gets up, restless, her eyes frantic.

Then, she looks at you. "Was it true?"

As much as you wished for a different answer, you nod.

"How do you know?"

"'Cause I've seen his compound."

Ellie's head starts shaking. "Why is he still alive, then? He and his people?"

"Are you asking me why I haven't killed a compound with over twenty, maybe more, men?"

"That many?" You nod in answer, and Ellie exhales shakily. "I... I wouldn't have made it out alive."

"Maybe not." You look at the deer. "Maybe yes. Thankfully, we won't have to know."

"Do you think they'll come after us? Up here?"

You shake your head with property this time. "That part was far down the mountain — further than I usually go, and admittedly, higher than he had the right to be."

"You threatened him before," she confirms.

"He knows he's dead if he comes up here. Plus — his guys have no clue how to survive up here. You and whoever you're helping are ok. From them, at least."

That seems to be enough for her. Ellie nods, and swallows so thickly you can almost see the knot in her throat.

It's one of the saddest things. Witnessing her process what could've been. What almost was.

"He... he said he wanted to..." she's special. "He was r-rubbing on—"

"Oh, sweetling."

Her eyes, when they find you again, are shining with tears.

"He would've—"

You interrupt, not wanting or needing the end of those words.

With slow and deliberate movements, you open your arms and step closer to her. "But he didn't. It's ok. Can I..."

Instead of answering, Ellie only allows her body to fall forward into your embrace.

It's been a while since you hugged another person, but you know she needs to feel some form of contact that's not laced with malice.

"And if it makes you feel any better... I picked a poisonous one for what he did." You hug her as she shakes, wishing you'd been faster. "He might not make it."

Ellie cries for only seconds.

It's like that's all she has in her — the shock makes her whole body tremble with it, but after only a couple of minutes, you hear a sniffle and feel her pulling back, so you let her go.

She avoids eye contact. "Thank you. For... down there. And helping me these days."

"You're welcome."

Wiping her face in her coat, Ellie nods, more to herself than anything, and then picks up the ropes again. "I know I don't know you, but — would you give me one last hand?"

"With what?"

"I—I don't know how to work a needle. Can you — Joel needs penicillin, and he needs it fast, but I don't wanna waste what I have now 'cause it's not as if I'll be getting more any time soon. So... can you do it? Do you know how?"

As much as you hate needles, you did know how. "I can. And I do."

Ellie's next sigh is in relief. "Ok. Alright."

You two start your way upwards again, but this time, you're distracted.

Joel.

That's the name of the person she's doing all of this for.

"He's gonna be ok now," Ellie whispers.

Somehow, you find yourself nodding along. Joel's gonna be ok.

The same gut that pulled you towards her tugs at that phrase, sparking something underneath your skin.

Joel and Ellie. You will help them and then go your way.

chapter one →

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