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cricket-reader · 11 months

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Mutual Agreement

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Summary: whilst on a mission, you and Bucky get caught in the cold. Your body doesn’t handle the temperature well, being you’re not a supersoldier. Your state brings back memories of Bucky’s life before Hydra, making him fear for your health.

Warnings: language, hypothermia, crying, mentions of death, fluff

Word Count: 1,551

Prompt: Delirium | Hypothermia | Stabilisation

A/N: Day 4 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

Bucky never showed his emotions. He was a closed book, and he intended to keep it that way. But that all shattered to pieces one fateful mission.

You and Bucky had been assigned to take down an abandoned Hydra base in Russia. Bucky had wanted to go alone, but Steve insisted that he went with a partner. That partner just so happened to be you, the girl that Bucky admired from afar.

You were strong, intelligent, and beautiful. He admired you for that and all the good you had done. You were better than him in every single way.

Finding and destroying the base was an easy matter. It was abandoned, therefore, there were no surprise attacks. It was the perfect mission. No injuries, no deaths, and most importantly to Bucky, not even a hair on your head was harmed.

Things only went downhill from there.

The getaway vehicle you had parked in the forest refused to start again. It didn’t matter what Bucky did, the vehicle refused to start up. On top of that, it was freezing in the vehicle. Almost as cold as it was outside, without the wind, of course.

If your shivering was anything to go by, Bucky knew you both couldn’t stay there. On his GPS, the safe house wasn’t far away. The supersoldier could make it on foot no problem. He just wasn’t so sure about you.

Internally, his thoughts were running rampant. On the outside, he looked as calm and collected as usual.

“We shouldn’t stay here. Do you think you can walk to the safe house?”

You bit your lip. “Sure.”

Bucky didn’t trust the tone of your voice whatsoever, but he didn’t let it show. He had to get you to warmth before he lost you.

You both exited the useless vehicle, and trudged your way towards the cabin.

It didn’t take long for your hands to start shaking, and your steps to begin faltering. You had to stay strong, though. You couldn’t face the embarrassment of failure in front of a teammate that you swore hated your guts.

The feeling in your face as well as your feet had long since vanished. Your fingers hadn’t had feeling since you reached the vehicle. These were not good signs, but you resigned to deal with it since the cabin was coming into your view.

Bucky noticed you lagging behind before you did. His heart raced, wanting to pick you up and bolt to the cabin where he could get you warm. He knew, however, that you would not like that notion. You’d probably smite him if he dared lay a finger on you. You liked your space, hating when people invaded it. Because although you were kind, you too had boundaries. Physical touch just happened to be yours.

It wasn’t until you tripped and fell into the snow that he decided, “screw that” and picked you up from the ground. You were trembling so hard, as cold as ice and it fucking scared him.

You let out a small noise of protest as he gathered you in his arms and began to run to the cabin. You could do it yourself. You just needed a little rest, that’s all.

Bucky slammed the door to the cabin open and slammed it shut before running to set you on the ground. He took off your soaked jacket and boots. You gently pushed him away, not really able to put any force behind it. “I can do it myself,” you muttered indignantly.

Whilst Bucky usually loved your sense of independence, it only served to frustrate him. He pouted with his signature grumpy face, arms crossed and all. He watched you peel off your drenched socks. Your fingers were still trembling.

He just wanted to help. You turned to go to one of the rooms, hoping to find a new pair of pants that weren’t wet.

You overestimated your ability to walk. Tripping over nothing probably had to be the most embarrassing thing you had ever done in front of Barnes. He didn’t hesitate to catch you. In Bucky’s arms you wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of shame.

Bucky muttered something to himself as he carried you to the nearest room. He set you on the ottoman in front of the bed before going to ruffle through the closet. He found some clothes for you to wear.

He turned around to give them to you, so you could change yourself. When he saw you falling asleep, he dashed to your side. You couldn’t fall asleep on him now. “C’mon, wake up,” he muttered, not a trace of worry evident in either his tone or on his face. He was determined to keep calm in front of you. Freaking out would do no good.

You blearily opened your eyes. It was so cold. Why were you so cold? You were in the warmth now. You should be fine.

“I’m gonna change your clothes now, okay? Is that alright?” Bucky asked. He didn’t want to do anything without your consent, but if worse came to worse, he would have to. He just needed to stabilise you before things got any worse. You just groaned in response. Cursing under his breath, Bucky dutifully peeled off your pants and dressed you in the sweats he had found. He left your shirt on, since it wasn’t affected by the snow. He didn’t want to do anything more. Not without your consent.

In your state of delirium, you barely noticed that he had picked you up and carried you to bed. You barely noticed the way he took care to wrap you in multiple blankets.

When you woke up, you were incredibly warm. You were also practically trapped in a cocoon of blankets. Groaning, you unwrapped yourself from the layers upon layers of blankets.

You tiptoed your way into the hallway. Looking around, you didn’t see Barnes anywhere.

You furrowed your brows when you heard a muffled sound coming from the bedroom down the hall.

You creeped to the door and pressed your ear against it. You could hear ragged breaths and choked sobs coming from behind the door. It had to be Bucky. No one else would be out here. However, you’d never seen him cry. He always was so strong given what he’d been through. He was resilient. So what could have prompted his tears? Did he have a nightmare? You knew from Steve that he was struggling with them. Your hand hesitated at the door handle. How you longed to go in there and comfort him, to wrap him in your arms and tell him he was safe now. But you knew he was a private person. He hated it when people saw him vulnerable, and you didn’t blame him.

All it took to break your hesitance was a sob.

Bucky had a hard time keeping everything in. He didn’t mean to let it out, but god he couldn’t help it. Seeing you look so pale and weak, your ice cold skin and shivering body… it reminded him of Steve. Little Steve back when they were kids. He thought Steve was going to die that cold January night. Bucky had stayed with him the whole night, praying to anyone that would listen to not take away his best friend.

It was like history was repeating itself and just the thought of you dying tore him to shreds. Now, Bucky didn’t believe in any god, not after all he went through with Hydra, but you bet your ass he had prayed. He didn’t get too far before his emotions caught up with him, hitting him head on like a bus.

That led him to the moment where you burst through the door. Your concerned features swept Bucky’s distraught figure. He was in the corner of the room, curled up into a ball. He didn’t even notice you, too busy trying to get air into his lungs.

Your heart tore at the sight of him so broken. You gently moved up beside him and kneeled just a few feet away. “Bucky?”

His red, watery eyes looked up at you like you were a ghost. Those eyes widened as he scrambled to make himself look like less of a mess. He sniffled back his tears and ran his hands over his eyes. Red creeped onto the tips of his ears and the back of his neck, completely ashamed you were seeing him like this.

His body froze when you wordlessly wrapped your arms around his body. He wanted to cry all over again. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him as if he were something precious. It took him a few seconds before he returned the gesture, hesitant to touch you. He could hurt you… or what if this was all just a figment of his imagination. Bucky didn’t want your tender hold to disappear.

You both stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for the rest of the night. Not a word needed to be said between you both. In your silence was a mutual agreement. An agreement that no one had to know about Bucky’s meltdown. An agreement that you wouldn’t ask questions. An agreement that this is what both of you needed. Some comfort.

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vodika-vibes · 14 days

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hii i was hoping to request wolffe with topaz or ruby (your choice i’m good with either one!!) in winter at sunset for your follower event pls!!

Safe and Sound

Summary: You love watching the sunset, especially in the winter when the sky is painted in purples and blues. Wolffe isn’t quite so fond of it, but he loves you, so he’s there anyway.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN!Reader

Word Count: 677

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope that this is close to what you wanted. I was in the mood for some massive Wolffe fluff. The title is brought to you by the song that was playing when I started writing it, lol.

You sit on the couch in your sunroom, your gaze directed at the setting sun as you watch as the sky is painted in purples and blues. You pull your legs up to your chest, carefully making sure that the fleece blanket is covering all of you.

Maybe you should take a picture, so you can try and replicate what you’re seeing on a canvas later-

Your head tilts to the side when the side door opens. A small smile crosses your face when Wolffe, your Wolffe, stops in the door and stomps snow off his boots.

“Welcome back,” You say in a light voice.

“Thanks,” He rips his gloves off and tosses them in a pile of winter clothes, “Kriff, it’s freezing out there.”

“Mm, the weather did say that the temperature was going to drop tonight.” You reply, “Come and sit with me?”

He glances at you, his mismatched eyes flickering over the blanket wrapped around you, and he laughs, “You know, it’s probably warmer in the main part of the house.

“I’m plenty warm here,” You counter, “And I’ll be warmer when you sit with me.”

“So bossy,” Still, Wolffe tosses the last of his winter gear to the side and walks over to you, dropping on the couch with a heavy sigh, before he tugs you onto his lap. Almost immediately, he buries his face in your neck, pressing a feather light kiss against the skin there. “Are we watching the sky again?”

“It’s pretty.” You offer.

“Mm. Seen one sunset, seen them all.” Wolffe counters, as he continues laying light kisses against your skin.

“Well, you don’t have to sit with me, Wolffe.” You point out logically as you reach up to lightly pet his hair.

“Sure I do, wouldn’t want you to get lonely.” Wolffe’s lips curl up into a small smirk, and you yelp when his hands dip under your shirt. His hands are like ice.

“Cold!” You yelp, trying to squirm away, though his grip around you is firm, holding you in place, “Were you pushing snow around with your bare hands?” You demand, shivering as his hands drift a little higher.

“Just wanted to share the love, since you’ve done everything in your power to avoid the cold, cyare.” He pulls away from your neck and he has a mischievous little grin on his lips.

“Mean.”

“You’ll live.” Wolffe replies, as he shifts you so that you’re facing him, “There we go, now I can see that pretty face of yours.”

You pull your hands out from under the blanket and press them against his face, “Mm, well, one of us is pretty, but I think it’s you.”

“Yeah, the scar really brings out the color of my eyes.” He jokes, his eyes closing as your soft fingers lightly trail against the scar over his eye.

“There’s a reason I spend most of my time painting you, handsome.” You point out, “And it’s only a little bit because I love you.”

“Hm, and what’s the rest?”

“Because you’re gorgeous and everyone should see you like I do.” You say stubbornly.

“Everyone, huh.” Wolffe asks with a small smirk.

Your face heats, “Well. Maybe not exactly like how I see you,” You admit sheepishly.

He laughs and pulls you in for a kiss, “I love you, you know that?”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice,” You say with a small grin.

“Only once or twice? Well, I’m clearly neglecting you. Let me fix that.” He presses his lips against your forehead, “I love you.” His lips trail down your nose, “I love you.” Across your eyelids, “I love you. I love you.” Down your cheeks, “I love you.”

You dissolve into giggles just before his lips catch your own in a heated kiss, “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips, his gaze heated.

Your lips curl up into a smile as you trail your fingers up into his curls, “Show me?”

A low chuckle falls from his lips, “Oh, cyar’ika, as though you have to ask.”

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes 500 follower celebration #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #gn!reader fic #answered asks

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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months

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feeling a bit weird asking this request since i haven't actually seen anyone write such a thing, but i'd like to ask for something about the parent figure!mike (NOT SMUT OFC), maybe something he's the reader's father or brother or something, if it's not something you could write just ignore !!! (i'm also not a native speaker so i apologize if it sounds impolite i always have this problem :/)

Girl have you read my fics?? Do NAWT come on here talking about feeling weird for a request when I have written shit that's sending me to super hell with Jensen Ackles or whoever played the angel guy from Supernatural. (I hope that joke made sense, I'm not in that fandom </3)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!! Fresh off the press for you pookie <3 (BTW, your English js great and you weren't demanding at all!! Seriously, don't feel bad 😊)

Same Shit, Different Schmidt

Dad! Mike & Gender Neutral! Reader

(This gif always sends me, I'm sorry)

Summery: You are a stubborn ass and Mike is not here to put up with that shit. Where'd you get this attitude, anyways? Is it so hard to just listen?

Tags: No use of Y/N, Reader is Mike's child, this is lowkey a sequel to 'What's One More?' but that is absolutely not required to read this, sickness, reader almost passes out, slight angst, Mike takes care of reader, Mike has a come to Jesus moment, mentions of arguing, injury, underage drinking, Abby and Mike go at it at one point, just a cute lil drabble :)

Notes: it feels illegal to post something so short. Is this allowed?? Anyways, this was so cute to write! Definitely a new approach. I hope you guys like this! Thanks for the request anon, I always love getting them 💗

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"I'm fine," you groaned emphatically, trying to to rise from the bed, musty from your body's sweat during the night.

"You are not fine, do not bullshit me," Mike scolded. His hands pressed you back onto the bed, his scowl growing as he feels your temperature through your moist shirt. "When did this start?"

"I told mom my throat hurt last night and she gave me some ibuprofen. It's seriously just a cold," you said, trying one more time to rise from the bed.

"You always get a sore throat before you get sick, have since you were a kid. When did the fever start?" His hand feels freezing against your clammy forehead, making you shy away to avoid the chills that threaten you.

"Not hot."

"You want me to call your mom so you can gaslight her, too?" His tone is firm and threatening. "Is there something you're trying to get away with here or...?"

"I have tech tonight for my show, I can't miss," you finally admit. You open your mouth to continue, but Mike quickly cuts you off.

"No. Out of the question," he said.

"Dad, I'll get in trouble-"

"You will get everyone else sick and then what? I said no," he said firmly. But when he sees the way you sink into the bed, eyes sad and finally accepting the situation, he thinks of your mother acting in a similar manner or Abby when she was your age with the same attitude. It makes him relent, pressing his lips tight together. "What do you need me to do?" He asked, voice softer as he strokes your cheek. Your eyes brighten for a moment, a smile breaking out. "You're not going, I'm just asking what I could do to help."

You sink into the bed once more, crossing your arms.

"My director is gonna hate me," you mumble.

"I will deal with her, or she will deal with me. I promise you one's better than the other," he said. At that you crack a smile, finally looking at him.

"Mom's not gonna be pleased either," you said.

"Mom's not gonna let you go either," he said. "I'm getting the thermometer and then I'm moving you to the living room so I can watch you better. You get control of the TV as your consolation prize."

You twirl your finger in the air, rolling your eyes as emit a mocking 'yay,' glaring at him as he shoots the same glare down at you, walking out of the room and slipping his phone out of his pocket to call your mother.

"How upset are they?" She asked on the other side of the phone. He could hear the office chatter going on around her as he searched through the cabinets for the supplements they kept in stock.

"They're not thrilled. Not planning my death yet, but it's coming," Mike huffed. "Is it elderberry that helps with sore throats?"

"Elderberry makes it worse after you get sick, helps before. Don't give them that," she said. There's a slight pause before she adds "You realize this attitude is inherited?"

"Oh," he groaned, sucking on his teeth. "I wasn't gonna throw you under the bus like that."

"I helped raise Abby, do not pin this on me," she laughed.

"I don't deny sickness," Mike said.

"I can name five seperate instances where you did," she countered. Mike froze for a moment, trying to remember. "Just go easy on them. Remember you're dealing with your kid."

"And yours," he countered.

"Supposedly," she teased.

"I'm pretty sure that was you I knocked up."

"But are you sure?"

"Well, there was that one time with your mom."

She laughed. "Have them text me when they can. I'll deal with director, she knows me better."

"Thanks. She terrifies me. Kinda get why they don't wanna miss," Mike admitted. With a quick laugh and a quicker goodbye, Mike clicks off the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He gathered the vitamins in a small cup, grabbed the other needed items and made his way back to the room that used to house his little sister.

"Okay, Mom's dealing with director and is willing to grab dinner of your choice if you'll-" Mike trails off at the sight of your empty bed, worry prickling through and tainting the annoyance rising in his chest. He calls your name, turning to look for you before his ears tune in on the shower running in the bathroom. He sighs, placing the items on your bedside table and making his way to the living room. All is well until about ten minutes after the water shuts off, when he heard a small but sure 'thud' ring from the room.

"Honey?" He called. Nothing.

He rises from his chair, his mind trying to remind himself to stay calm and not jump to its automatic thoughts of harm and anxiety as he walked quickly to the door.

"If you don't answer I'm coming in," he warned. The quiet groan on the otherside is all he needed to quickly open the unlocked door, trying not to panic as he catches sight of you curled up on the floor with your head between your knees.

"I'm fine," you said quietly. "Got dizzy." Your clothes are thrown on haphazardly and it's clear how disoriented you are. Your hair doesn't even look properly washed.

Mike's arms are comforting, familiar and protective as he carefully lifts you up, taking you to the couch as though you weigh nothing to him. When his mind is racing like this, you may as well not.

"What were you thinking?" He asked in a panicked voice. "I told you you weren't going."

"My director hates me and tech is like, our biggest practice. I can't miss," you insisted, barely able to stand the light shining through the open windows. The couch is cool against your skin, the old leather offering relief. Mike had brought it home a few years back, a surprise he'd found at a thrift store with your help. Still pricey but a Christmas gift for everyone in the house. Your mother shook her head as she finally agreed maybe the couch that was as old as her needed to be replaced.

"Your mom is dealing with her and she's gonna deal with you next if you don't listen to either of us," Mike said. He ran back to your room, collecting the items and returning to your side before you could even respond. "Can you just let us take care of you?"

Oh. Oh. Fine, okay. There it is. He hears it now, that point your mother had just been making.

As the thermometer takes longer than he'd like to beep, he sighs at the sight of you looking like death on the couch. "You get this attitude from me," he finally sighed. You raise your brow quizzically, waiting for him to continue. A soft noise emits from the device. Mike takes it from your mouth and scowls at the number that flashes back at him. He hands you a now room temperature cup of throat coat tea with three ibuprofen to help with the fever before he takes your hand.

"Did I tell you about the time your mother had to drag me to the emergency room for stitches on my forehead?" He asked, smiling. You snort, taking another sip of your drink. "It happened when you were little. I don't even think you were two. Abby was going out with this idiot and figured out how to take out the screen in her window so she could sneak out without any of us knowing. This girl was bad news, I mean-"

"Aunt Abby?" You asked.

"What? No. No, the girl she was going out with, Lisa Browning. Had her come home with a belly button piercing once, I wasn't happy about that. Anyways, Abby decided that she was going to this party one night and I'd found her bed empty halfway through the night while I was going to check on you. Well, I decided I was gonna wait for her in her room with the lights off until she got home. So I sat in front of her window and eventually got tired, so I shut my eyes. Figured it couldn't hurt. Took a couple hours, but eventually your mother woke up and my side of the bed was empty and she heard this loud as fuck noise from your aunts room. This is like four in the morning, mind you," he said. "So she jumped out of bed and heard your aunt yelling, saw some guy in dark clothes on the floor, open window and the lights are off, and she's still wiping sleep out of her eyes."

"Oh no," you groaned.

"Oh yes. Grabbed some metal Eiffel Tower thing on Abby's desk and just swung at my head. Hurt like a bitch," he laughed, you joining in as much as you could without hurting your throat. "It was a good hit. I think she realized it was me when I grabbed her ankle and hollered her name cause she stopped right after that. Wasn't too bad, but I wouldn't stop bleeding."

"So did Abby get in trouble?" You asked.

"Are you kidding? I was even more pissed, I chased her down the hallway after her girlfriend climbed in and fell on top of me. I was ready to kill her. Your mother had to drag me and her into the car, go back and grab you and deal with us screaming at each other all the way to the hospital. Not that I wanted to go, I was fine with just pressing a dishcloth to the thing and carrying on with my plan to rip my sister a new one. She had to threaten us both to actually get me inside, and I only conceded because I was too dizzy to object by that point. I think the nurses assumed she was insane. I mean, kid on her hip, dressed in pajamas with some drunk teenager bickering with a guy bleeding from his head at the crack of dawn. I'm surprised no one called the cops. They did have to almost seperate Abby and I, though. Which just upset me more."

"How did they get you to calm down?" You asked.

"Your mother handed you to me while she walked Abby to a bathroom so she could take a go at her. And you were all upset anyways because I wasn't paying attention to you and you didn't understand why the nurses were fuckin' with me or why I was upset. Once I had you in my arms I refocused, calmed down a good bit. Someone brought me a book to read you and we got to focus on that while they prepped me for stitches," he said the last part softly. "I was so glad when Abby got out of her teen rebellion phase."

"She ruined mine," you joked.

"Yeah. She used pretty much every trick in the book, so we were ready for you. Sorry," he said.

"It's fine, I don't like parties."

"I don't either."

Mike's phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it, typing a quick response before refocusing on you. "Your mother wants to know what you're thinking for dinner," he said.

"Chinese?" You asked.

"That comes from your mom's side," he smiled. "She'll be pleased."

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Short but sweet. This was a fun one :)

Taglist:

@jhutchissupercool @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support! <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson fnaf #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #mike schmidt #mike fnaf #mike #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x you #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch

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inafieldofdaisies · 7 months

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Ship Moodboard and snippet | The Deceiver and The Wolf | Jacob x Mercedes

Mercedes was but a blur of white as she moved through the trees, eyes set on the shoreline they had passed on their way up what felt like an eternity ago. She could hear her name echoing behind her, followed by rustling and twigs snapping, signaling that just as suspected Jacob was catching up to her. Her laugh was victorious when she made it past the treeline and onto the river embankment without him interfering, Dolos' carefree bark urging her on as she aimed for the little boat ramp ahead of her. "Mercedes", Jacob called out, voice laced with annoyance when her feet hit the wooden dock and she discarded her flats at the base of it before sending him an innocent smile. "What?" Icy gaze settled on her, "I wasn't done with the lesson." "Well, I decided I had enough for today.", then she added under her breath, "Or for the whole week really. You suck at it, frankly." The last part she practically shouted, ensuring the jab would land. "So you just take off running without any direction?", he advanced down the path, his movements reminiscent of a predator, slow, controlled and with his sights set on one thing: her. Where most, especially his men would have flinched at his tone and shook like a leaf just at the idea of defying him, Mercedes thrived on pushing his buttons, seeing how far she could take things before he'd snap out of his emotionless soldier act.

One of her shoulders lifted up in a shrug as her fingers began untying her dress, each small step she blindly took back presumably getting her closer to the river, "You had your fun playing soldier and forcing me to come along. I think it's time I had mine." The laces of her corset were a challenge on its own with her eyes remaining on his and added another layer of seductiveness to the game set in motion. Dolos moved past Jacob, threading into the shallow parts of the blue-green water after releasing another happy bark, seeming completely oblivious to the tug of war happening between the two of them. Finally, the bodice gave way, allowing her to slip her dress down her legs until she was left down to a nude colored bralette and its matching set of panties. Despite the sight a couple of feet away from him, Jacob appeared as calm as the river where it meandered between the small islands. One quick look behind her confirmed she was at the end of the dock, so she came to a stop, sending another smile his way, "You can go back into the woods, Jacob. Don't stop on my behalf. I will be here when you're done playing caveman." "It's going to be freezing, sweetheart.", he retorted matter-of-factly, ignoring her remark. She suspected as much, but didn't let that stop her, erasing the remaining distance, her breath hitching at the biting temperature as she dove in. "Are you just going to stand there and watch? I do love an audience.", Mercedes asked the moment she broke the surface, finding Jacob standing like a statue where the ramp began, arms crossed over his chest, rifle dangling forgotten on his back.

A chuckle broke free at his lack of response and she turned, gliding further away from the dock, her body slowly getting used to the water she wished was a heated pool instead. The good old days. Oh, how I miss them. As she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, she could almost pretend she was at a resort, that a drink was waiting for her instead of a grumpy ginger that had decided to take her out 'hunting' at the crack of dawn staring daggers into her. In her mind, she counted down the seconds, wondering if he'd break his last record of holding out and just when she was starting to wonder if maybe this time around would be different and he would actually walk away, a splash sounded behind her, making her smirk, confirming she had won yet again. "It's freezing, I was right.", Jacob muttered as swam closer. "Is it?" "If your lips turn blue, I'm carrying you out, Mercedes, no arguments." She spun around, playfully splashing water in his direction before his arms encircled her waist, her hands coming to rest on his bare shoulders, "I'm sure you'd find a way to keep me warm."

"Ah, you two over there,", a voice resonated somewhere behind them, making her flinch, "keep it down, will ya, you're scaring the fish." The way Jacob's eyes darkened as he stared over her shoulder made her crane her neck around to sneak a peek at whoever had addressed them. "It's that godawful Deputy.", his words were low, promising more activities she wanted no part of. "Don't.", her fingers cupped his jaw, forcing his gaze to hers and away from the eyot's shoreline, "Let him fish. We're having fun, don't ruin it with another game of cat and mouse." Her regareded her in silence, and she could almost imagine him weighting his options - deciding between going after the only Deputy remaining free from Joseph's arrest party and who was more of an ally to Mercedes, or staying there with her. "It would be too easy anyway.", she tried again, hoping the words would create enough doubt, deter him from the idea of a hunt. His demeanor revealed little, prompting her to begin thinking of ways to warn Hartley of the incoming danger, then Jacob opened his mouth, shocking them both. "Fine. Just this once."

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michelle-is-writing · 2 years

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Ticklish, Chris Pontius

Word Count: 700~

Spending the night with Chris is one of the best things we started doing in our relationship. When he suggested it one night after I had stayed over late while having dinner with him, I said sure, not seeing it as a huge step in our relationship. However, I was wrong as that one night turned into the next night, and so on and so forth. From then on, Chris was always having me stay over, only letting me go home to get more clothes to stay over with him.

Tonight is no different as I currently lie beside Chris in his bed, leaning up a bit in bed to gaze down at him. I can’t sleep for some reason, but I have a feeling it’s because of the cold temperature in our room. As Chris lies on his back, soft snores leaving his nose with his curly hair sprawled out around him, I curl up beside him in his side, resting an arm across his chest to get as close as I can. Doing this, my eyes catch the various tattoos that adorn the skin on his arm as Chris has managed to push the soft cotton sheets off his upper torso and hips; meanwhile, I try to cover myself up as much as I can. It was Chris’ idea to sleep naked, of course, as it supposedly helps keep body heat between us. I know that’s just his excuse to get me naked, however. He’s not that slick.

Dragging my finger down the various tattoos on his arms, I smile as I try to guess what the story is behind each of them. The smiley face watch band is definitely one of my favorites as only Chris would get something like that. The next tattoo I see is the Templar cross he has on his arm, and I can’t help but drag my finger softly against the inked skin. The slightly raised skin glides against my finger and I find myself smiling as I know the meaning behind this one. It means independence, and Chris truly is himself.

Before I realize what’s happening, Chris switches our positions in the bed with him now lying on top of me, completely engulfing my body with his as he nuzzles his nose into my neck. “I’m ticklish,” he sleepily murmurs, following it up with a kiss on my neck. His words bring a chuckle from my lips, causing me to turn my head over to him with a smile. “Can’t sleep, princess?” He asks, his sleepy eyes peering back up to meet mine.

“Yeah, I think I’m just cold,” I tell him, wrapping arms around him to hold his body closer to mine. Chris has always been a heater when we’re in bed, and tonight is no different, but the room is absolutely freezing for some reason.

“I don’t have a problem warming you up,” he teases, moving his lips onto mine all while sliding a hand from my waist and down to my hip, pulling my leg over to lie over his. His lips stay glued to mine, moving against them with a gentleness just like his touch. With his other hand, he slides it between us and onto my chest, pulling away from the kiss to let out an almost boyish giggle. “You’re right. It is pretty cold in here.”

Looking down at his hand, I see that my body is definitely reacting to the cold, causing a certain perkiness that Chris is suddenly fascinated with. Gently jabbing at his abs, I shake my head at him with a smirk, before connecting our lips once more, only to pull away after a few moments. “Well, didn’t you say you were going to warm me up?”

At that, he smirks back at me as he moves to hover over me, a certain mischief now taking over his eyes. “Oh, honey,” he starts, situating himself between my now parted legs. Dipping down, Chris presses several kisses to my stomach before wandering down further, his eyes staying glued to mine the entire time. “I plan on it.”

#chris pontius #chris Pontius x reader #chris Pontius imagine #chris Pontius jackass #chris Pontius imagines #chris Pontius x fem!reader #jackass #jackass x reader #jackass forever #jackass imagine #jackass imagines #jackass fan fiction

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idabbleincrazy · 1 year

Text

Best Laid Plans: Christmas in the Cascades (A Secret-verse future!fic)

Fandom: Angel (Buffyverse)

Rating: E

Pairing: Spangel (Will/Liam)

Word Count: 2908

Warnings: PWP, human au, fluff, smut, rimming, brief fingering, anal, topping from the bottom, est. d/s, sub!Angel, bottom!Angel, pain kink, nipple kink, praise kink, nipple play, degradation kink, fluff, blow job, deep thrroating, throat fucking, come swallowing, masturbation, coming on command, come feeding, switch!Spike, future fic

Summary: Will and Liam's Christmas vacation does not start the way they planned.

A/N: written for @mfbingo Christmas edition for the square "I can keep you warm".

This was not the White Christmas in the Cascade Mountain Range William had been planning for the last three weeks. He'd planned for a week of fun and relaxation, driving the twenty minutes into town for a dinner or two…that he made reservations for…ice skating, and shopping at quaint little shops in the artsy district, you know, all the silly little touristy stuff couples do on vacation. Now, they were stuck having to waylay all their plans and start from scratch. If the snow ever lightened up.

"Bloody hell! Stupid sodding weathermen not doin' their bloody job right. Supposed to just be a light snowfall, not a bloody blizzard!"

William and Liam hurried down the driveway into the cabin, Liam stomping his feet at the door to knock the snow off his boots before heading inside. He cast a wry smirk at Will as the blonde tossed his suitcase on the couch and kicked his boots off, careless of the puddle that would form from the melting snow.

"Will, it's fine, really."

"'S not fine, it's bloody freezing. And we're trapped out here now till the roads open back up. We were supposed to get here four hours ago so we could head into town for supplies after unpackin'. Now the shops are bloody closed until the day after tomorrow."

"We've got enough food in the truck for the next couple days, and the manager already said they stocked up on the standard stuff. We'll make do, okay?" Liam snagged William's hand as he trudged by and pulled him into an embrace, wrapping his arms around the slim waist and nuzzled into his neck. Feeling Will shudder lightly, he trailed his nose up along his throat, his voice lowering as he whispered into his ear. "And as for the temperature, I'm pretty sure I can keep you warm."

William let out a low groan, and pulled away, his eyes darkening with lust as they traveled over Liam's body.

"I'm going to get a fire going, an' I want you naked, laid out on that faux-bearskin rug, by the time I'm done, understood, Angel?"

Liam's eyes flashed with hunger as his hands began quickly working at his jacket zipper.

"Yes, Spike."

Another groan and Will shed his coat as he crossed the cabin to the fireplace, thankful that the manager of the rental company had seen to it that plenty of wood was chopped and ready, a large pile of it set beside the stone hearth. He set up a good source of fuel for the flames and managed to get the fire going strong after a minute of fiddling with the kindling.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he turned back to Liam and stopped, his cock hardening instantly at the sight. Liam was stretched out on the rug as instructed, on his stomach, the firelight flickering mesmerizingly over his smooth, tan skin, his firm buttocks dimpling as the brunette flexed teasingly.

"Christ, you're a sight, luv." William walked around Liam and stood at his feet. “Show me.”

Liam quickly pulled his knees under him, his ass raising up, legs spreading as wide as he could manage as he presented himself to Will’s heated gaze. His hands slid back to spread his buttcheeks apart, revealing the jeweled plug stretching him open. His cock, which had finally softened after the first hour of the long drive up to the cabin from the airport, was hard as stone again, and leaking steadily under William's watchful eye, the tip brushing tantalizingly against the soft nap of the rug. He almost wished he'd agreed to the matching cock ring this morning when Will had presented him with the erotic addition to their trip up here, he could've used the extra security against cumming without permission.

“God, I love your arse, Angel. Look so bloody hot, all filled up with your pretty, new toy. You know how hard I was most of the way here,” Will growled at the pretty picture his lover made, and dropped to his knees behind him, his hands, warmed already by the fire, grazing lightly over the round globes of his ass and down along his inner thighs, his cock throbbing against his zipper at the low moans his touches garnered. Stroking his fingers upwards, he traced a fingertip around the furled skin of Liam's stretched rim, groaning as he watched the puckered muscle clench and relax around the plug. Nearly two years and he still hadn't tired of this sight. “Knowing you were all slicked up, your lovely hole stretched open around the plug, just waitin’ for a cock to replace it. Should’ve taken you in the plane’s bathroom, introduced you to the Mile High Club. Was even worse in the car, pet. Wanted to pull over a dozen times and just fuck you over the hood of the car.”

Replacing Liam's hands with his own, he held his cheeks spread open and dipped his head down to mouth over the filled hole. Liam let out a soft cry of pleasure, struggling to keep still as William lapped his tongue around the ring of muscle, glad he’d had the foresight to use one of the flavored lubes when he’d inserted the plug for the brunette before they’d left for their flight.

“Love this bloody arse”, Will repeated himself, the words muffled against Liam’s skin as he licked away the taste of strawberries and cream, his teeth just grazing over the sensitive flesh, pulling fresh moans and whimpers from the younger man. Pulling away slightly, he slid his fingers between butt plug and flesh, circling around the steel base that flared out and tugging it halfway out, watching the skin stretch around the width of the plug. “Christ, pet, could eat you out for hours, make you cum, over an’ over, from just my tongue up this sweet li’l hole. ‘S not what you really want, though, is it, luv? Need my cock, don’t ya, Angel, fillin’ you, stretching you wide, thrustin’ into you the way this li’l toy never could.”

“Oh, God, Spike…please…fuck me. Need to feel you, Master.”

“Don’t worry, pet, not gonna leave you wanting, need it myself too much to make you wait.” William pulled the plug out completely and quickly eased two fingers into the gaping hole, stretching Liam briefly. They could take it slow later, and anyway, he knew the brunette got off on a bit of pain, which was just fine with him. A fast, hard, fuck was just the outlet he needed after hours of willing away a nearly constant hard-on and the more recent stress of having their plans delayed by Mother Nature’s whims. He let out a groan as Liam pushed back on his fingers and gave his ass a firm smack with his other hand for his impatience as he pulled his fingers out of the slick hole. “Behave, Angel. Now, kneel up, pet. Want you to ride me.”

Liam did as ordered, the sting of the slap on his butt pulsing slightly as he sat back on his heels. He watched hungrily as Will stood up and finished undressing, moaning with need as his long, pale cock was revealed as he stepped out of his jeans, head fully exposed from the foreskin and leaking pre-cum as it curved up towards his stomach. Will smirked and retrieved a small bottle lube from his pocket before laying down beside Liam, not even bothering to order him to give him head; he was close enough to climaxing as it was.

“C’mon, luv, wanna see you fuck yourself on my cock.” Liam quickly straddled Will’s waist, taking the proffered lube and reaching behind him to slick up the blonde's cock. Will grunted and thrust up into Liam's fist as he stroked the hard length, his head falling back against the rug as frissions of pleasure shot up his spine. "Enough, Angel, take me in."

Lifting up on his knees, Liam positioned himself over the tip of Will's cock, one hand holding it steady, his other sliding down his thighs to cup his balls, lifting them enough for William to watch his cock disappearing inside the brunette. He bore down on the blunt head pushing against his opening, hissing out at the slight burn of pain as William's cock stretched him further.

"Jesus bloody Christ," Will fought the urge to thrust further into the tight heat surrounding his cock as Liam worked himself down the long shaft, his hands moving back to brace against Will's thighs as he took him in completely. "Fuck, tha's it, pet, so bloody good. Such a good boy, Angel, taking me so fucking deep."

Liam moaned at the soft praise and raised his hips, letting Will's cock slip almost completely out before slamming back down, his own thick cock bouncing against his stomach.

"Christ! Oh, what a good li'l slut you are, pet."

William reached up, one hand caressing Liam's flexing thigh, the other sliding up his chest as he began a quick but steady pace, angling his downward thrusts to ensure minimal contact with his prostate. As Will's fingers tugged at his nipples, he let his head fall back against his shoulders, letting out a loud moan of desire when the blonde pinched the hardened nubs painfully.

"Yeah, such a sweet little pain slut, aren't you, luv? God, you're bloody perfect, Angel, ridin’ my dick so fuckin’ good.”

The warmth of the fire had already begun to affect the brunette, a light sheen of sweat coating the bronzed skin. William licked his lips and surged up, his knees bending to brace the larger man's back as he leaned in and licked a line of sweat from Liam's torso.

"Jesus!" Liam yelped as the change in position rammed Will's cock against his prostate on the next thrust, a thick spurt of pre-cum dripping down his aching cock at the added sensation. As William mouthed over his skin, he quickened his pace, desperate to bring the smaller man off before he lost control of his own imminent orgasm. "Oh, God, Master…shit, feels so good, love how your cock feels inside me, Spike. Fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can...ahh."

Will growled and slid his hand up Liam's body, wrapping around his neck to pull him up into a deep, thorough kiss. His tongue slid easily into Liam's gasping mouth, tangling briefly with the brunette's before pulling back to bite at his bottom lip. He could feel himself teetering on the brink already; the tight, clenching heat of Liam's ass, the debauched look of the younger man's face as he rode him and fought off his own release, the beautiful, pleading, sounds of his need, all coalescing to drive him to the edge.

"Shite, Angel, love you so bloody much”, Will rasped against Liam’s mouth, pumping his hips up as Liam bore down, arms wrapping around each other’s backs. Crushing the brunette to him, he could feel Liam’s cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum against his stomach as they rode on and into each other. “Fuck, gonna cum, luv. Fill this sweet, tight arse up, the way you milk my cock so fucking perfect. Oh, yeah, fuck…Liam!”

Will buried his face in Liam’s neck, holding him still in his embrace while he rode out his orgasm, thrusting up into the clenching tightness as his cock pulsed out spurt after spurt of thick, ropey cum. Liam twitched his hips as best he could in Will’s clutching grasp, desperate for his own release as he felt William filling him up. He’d registered the use of his real name but was unsure if they were still in play and didn’t want to risk the punishment, not when he was this close.

“Spike, Master, please…need to cum.”

The realization that Liam had succeeded in withholding his own climax, without even being ordered, sent a fresh thrill of arousal down William’s spine. Releasing his tight grip on the larger man, he eased Liam off his cock and rose to his knees. Liam groaned at the loss, the sound quickly followed by a louder moan as Will reinserted the butt plug.

“Stand up, luv.” As Liam rose shakily onto his feet in front of him, William looked over at the cuckoo clock above the fireplace, smirking up at the brunette. “Happy Christmas, Liam.”

Before Liam could respond, Will leaned forward and took his entire aching length into his mouth, lips sliding down the leaking cock to the root.

"Will", Liam yelped as the blonde swallowed around his shaft, the head of his cock nestled in the opening of his throat. He looked down at William, groaning at the sight of his darkened blue eyes staring hungrily back up at him, his spent cock already beginning to reharden. Carding his fingers through Will's peroxided curls, he pulled his head back slightly to thrust his cock along his tongue. "God, baby, I love your fucking mouth. Look so fucking pretty on your knees like this, Will, sucking my dick like a goddamn pro. Want me to fuck your mouth, huh, baby? Wanna feel my cock bruising that sweet little throat?"

William moaned his approval around the girth filling his mouth, his hands coming to rest on his own thighs as he relaxed his jaw.

Liam groaned at the seldom seen submission in William's features, the heavy-lidded gaze causing another spurt of pre-cum to bubble from his throbbing cock. Tightening his grip on Will's hair slightly, he thrust his hips forward, pushing his cock back into the tight, wet warmth of his lover's throat, starting a fast pace, knowing he wouldn't last more than a minute or two after holding back for so long.

Will swallowed and suckled around the thrusting length, letting the brunette use him in a way he rarely felt the longing for. He let go of his control and just let his body take over, the feeling of the thick, hard, cock brutally pummeling his throat making his dick ache for a second release. Thoughtlessly, his hand drifted towards his cock, fingers scratching through the sparse nest of curls as he teased himself.

Liam growled at the sight of the blonde’s mindless self-ministrations, the sudden, unexpected need etched on Will’s face driving him closer to the edge. It was far from the first time in the past two years that Liam had been allowed to take the lead, but William didn’t often give over the control so easily and completely. The knowledge that, if he wanted, he could order Will to drop his hand away from his groin and he would do so with merely a disappointed whimper, meant more to him than he could express; for someone so wholly dominant to submit to his this way showed just how much trust there was between them.

"Fuck, yeah, baby, touch yourself. Jesus, look how hard you are again. All that just from me using your sweet mouth like this?” Liam watched William fist his cock as he thrust his own down his throat. “That’s it, Will, God, yeah, wanna see you blow just from the taste of my dick. Shit, baby, such a good little cocksucker, gonna fucking cum, cum for me, Will. Oh, fuck!"

Liam held Will's head in place as he thrust deeply one last time, his cock pulsing thick spurts of cum down the swallowing throat. Over the roar of his orgasm sounding in his ears, he could just make out the wet squelching of William's hand speeding over his own shaft, the garbled keen and sticky splash of the blonde's release on his calf barely registering as he fought to stay upright through the intense climax.

William swallowed down the final bursts of cum and lapped away every drop from the softening length before pulling away, tugging the panting brunette down to the floor.

"Bloody fucking hell, that was hot", Will husked, his voice the only sign of the rough treatment Liam had wrought upon his throat.

He swiped his fingers through the glob of cum on Liam's calf and fed them to him, watching him lick them clean before stretching out beside the larger man and capturing his lips in a dirty kiss, mingling the tastes of each other together until they needed to break apart for air.

"Merry Christmas, Will," Liam huffed a laugh against Will's lips, pulling him into the circle of his arms. Reaching behind him, he tugged the large throw blanket from the nearby couch and maneuvered it over the both of them, the warmth of the roaring fire and his long overdue release leaving him sated and sleepy as Will snuggled into him. "I love you, William Pratt."

"And I love you, Liam Devlin. You do know there's a perfectly good bed in the other room, luv?"

"Mm-hmm, don't care. Comfy here, here good."

"Caveman say 'ugh'", Will chuckled in Liam's ear, returning his embrace. Liam merely growled softly and nuzzled into the curve of Will's neck. William sighed, casting his mind to the surprise he'd paid extra for management to set up in the bedroom and shook his head. At least he had the morning to look forward to, then; if the surprise went as hoped, they might not even step foot out of the cabin for another day. "Fine then, Mr. Sleepyhead, but if I get a cramp, you're giving me a massage."

"Mmm, happy ending costs extra, though."

"Oi!"

~~~~~

All Things Spike: @leatafanfiction @captain-peroxid3

Other: @countblucas

#mf bingo #xmas edition #buffyverse fanfic #a:ts fanfic #Spangel #lemon #secret-verse fic

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sochilll · 2 years

Text

October 17 - “It’s not even that cold!”

Day 16 Day 18 All Days (Prompt list)

Evan was that kind of cold where your fingers go numb and trying to warm them up just hurts. If it rained right now, it would probably snow. But Jared’s car was a piece of shit, so they were outside anyway.

“You’ve put more money into fixing that thing than it would cost to just buy a new car.” Evan huffed.

“Don’t ever speak ill of Doris again.” Jared held up a finger. “She’s a trooper.”

“She just fucking died on a ten minute drive.” Evan pointed out. Luckily, they were only a few blocks from Jared’s apartment when Doris gave out on them.

“She just needs a little TLC and she’ll be fine.” Jared assured him.

“She needs to go to the scrap yard for making us walk home in freezing temperatures.”

“It’s not even that cold!” Jared rolled his eyes. “You’re such a baby.”

Evan glared at him.

“It’s nice out.” Jared went on.

“It’s like ten degrees!” Evan yelled. He rubbed his hands together.

They came to a stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change.

“Here.” Jared took Evan’s hands in his and rubbed vigorously. It did bring some of the feeling back but it faded as soon as Jared let go.

“Thanks that did nothing.” Evan grumbled, sticking his hands into his pockets.

“Well sorry.” Jared rolled his eyes. “Remind me never to help you again.”

They crossed the street and then, thankfully, Jared’s apartment building was only a few feet away. Evan was immediately enveloped by warmth from the heater blasting in the lobby.

“Yes. Warm.” He stood there, being slowly roasted.

“Come on.” Jared shoved him toward the elevator.

They rode up four floors. It wasn’t nearly as warm inside Jared’s apartment but it was enough that Evan stopped shivering and was starting to get the feeling back in his hands. He sat on the couch, rubbing his hands together while Jared went to the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot.

“How long are you staying?” He called.

Evan shrugged. “I work in the afternoon tomorrow so… I don’t know. I was gonna-“ He faltered as he felt a blanket being settled around his shoulders. Jared didn’t acknowledge it, just kept walking like that was a normal thing to do. Evan struggled to continue talking like that hadn’t completely and totally thrown him off. “Gonna, um, I was gonna leave around five or six so I can make dinner when I get home.”

“You can eat here.” Jared offered. “But you have to pay for half since we’ll have to get something delivered.”

Evan nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around him. “Sure. That’s fine.”

“Cool.” Jared dropped onto the couch. “What do you want?” He pulled up the maps app so he could see what was nearby.

“It’s like three. We don’t have to decide now.”

“Well it’s gonna take us at least two hours of arguing to pick a place.” Jared said.

That was true. Evan scooted closer so he could see Jared’s phone. Jared scrolled through the list, reading off restaurants and fast food places. Occasionally one of them would say “maybe” or “anything but that.”

Jared stopped suddenly.

“Run out?” Evan asked.

Jared started slightly. “No. I was-no.” He cleared his throat and continued reading.

Evan was about to ask what had happened when he realized it for himself. They were sitting too close together. As in, Evan’s legs were almost on top of Jared’s. As in, their shoulders were pressed together. As in, the blanket plus Jared’s body heat was making Evan start to sweat.

He shifted away casually, meaning: he violently flinched away from Jared.

Jared looked at him. “The fuck? What?”

Evan just stared at him, unsure how to explain his reaction. “There was a spider.”

Jared continued to stare. “What?”

“There was a spider.” Evan repeated.

“Where?”

“On… you.”

Jared squinted. “Why are you talking like a robot?”

“I am not.” Evan said like a robot. He ignored Jared’s pointed look. “I’m being normal.”

“You’ve never been normal in your life.” Jared shook his head, turning back to his phone and releasing Evan from his interrogation. “I’m ordering from the Thai place.”

“Now?”

“No. At like six.” Jared zoomed in on the menu. “I’m assuming you want fried rice? You can get a zero on the spice meter.” He teased.

“I like a little spice.” Evan kicked him softly. “Give me like… a four.”

“Embarrassing. I’m getting a nine.”

“You’re gonna regret that.”

“I am not!” Jared leaned toward him. “I can handle the heat.”

Evan’s face flushed. “Well I guess I can’t.” He ducked his head.

Jared looked at him for a minute. “Hey look at me.”

“Why?”

“Look at me.”

Evan looked at him.

Jared studied him for a moment. “I’m getting you a three.”

“What? No! I want a four.”

“So you now you claim you can handle the heat?” Jared shook his head. “You need to get your story straight.”

“You fluster me.”

“What?”

“You just said I fluster you.”

“No.” Evan’s face was on fire. “Frustrate. I said you frustrate me.”

“You definitely didn’t.” Jared was grinning. “Aww do I make you nervous?”

“No! You make me full of violent rage.” Evan grumbled, kicking him a little harder than before.

“And that’s what the best relationships are built on.”

“Shut up.” Evan pouted. The embarrassment was fading and the argumentative annoyance was back. “We’d be the worst couple ever.”

“I’m sure there’d be worse couples.”

“We’d be top five at least.”

“With a little effort we could beat the other worse ones.” Jared flipped his position suddenly. “We could be the world’s worst couple!”

“Is that… something you want to achieve?”

“Kind of. It’s nice to be the best at something.”

Evan laughed. “I don’t think we’d actually be that bad.”

“No?”

“No. We’d be okay. We might even be good.”

“Is that… something you want?”

“Being in a good relationship? I mean-“

“Being in a relationship with me.”

Evan froze. He could feel Jared’s eyes on him.

“Is it something you-“

“Nope. I asked you first.”

Evan sank down in the couch. “I don’t… not want it.”

“Cool.” Jared turned back to his phone.

Cool? That was all he got? Cool? That was bullshit. That wasn’t fair. He should say something. He should punch Jared.

“So fried rice spice level four.” Jared said. “And I guess I’ll buy.”

“I thought I had to buy half?” Evan’s anger was undercut by confusion.

“Implying I’m not a gentleman? That I wouldn’t pay on a first date?”

“First… date.” Evan repeated dumbly.

“Yes.” Jared said. And that was that.

“Can you get me a drink too?” Evan tested the waters of this strange situation.

Jared huffed. “Jesus you’re an expensive date.” But Evan saw him add Evan’s favorite soda to the cart.

Evan smiled. Jared bumped his knee into Evan’s. “You’re buying on the second date.”

“That’s fair I guess.”

Jared looked over. “I’m going to be a very expensive second date.”

“Then I’m going to be a very expensive third date.”

Jared grinned. “Correct response.” He patted Evan’s knee and turned back to his phone.

#Jared with a shitty old car that he loves dearly rights!!!!!#And also kleinsen getting together in stupid ways my beloved <3 #deh #Kleinsen #my writing

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bnha smut #bakugou smut #mha smut

900 notes · View notes

hypmicdaydreams · 2 years

Note

Hello! If the requests are still open, may I ask for Bad Ass Temple walking by and suddenly getting pulled by their s/o under a bunch of warm blankets, please? Nothing suggestive, only cuddling

Oh, this was fun to write! I wasn't sure if you wanted hcs or not, so I went with short fics for each since I feel that was the best way to portray this. Thank you sm for the request and hope you enjoy 💕

-pairings: kuko harai x gn!reader, jyushi aimono x gn!reader, hitoya amaguni x gn!reader

-genre: fluff

-word count: ~1.8k

Kuko (574 words)

Being pulled underneath blankets and having a cuddling session with you wasn’t exactly how Kuko expected his usual cleaning of the temple to go. He hadn’t expected to find a huge pile of the heavy winter blankets that were usually set aside in the closet to be out and about on the floor, and he certainly hadn’t expected to have himself dragged under by you when he came close. It was a scene straight out of a horror movie, almost.

“Ouch! What was that for?!” Kuko couldn’t help but exclaim, rubbing his probably now bruised head. Geez, the way you grabbed his ankle out of nowhere, the thought of someone, much less his s/o (he had forgotten that you were visiting him), being under the blankets never even crossing his mind, and then just pulled him was surely a bit terrifying, as well as somewhat painful given that he had fell on to the hard wood floors of the temple. It was so unprompted. “You damn near gave me a heart attack!”

“Ah, sorry,” you muttered, quite enjoying the sight you had enacted. It would be a lie to say that it wasn’t the slightest bit entertaining to surprise your boyfriend, in perhaps the most horrific way possible, but his reaction was honestly adorable, even if you ‘damn near gave him a heart attack.’ “I just wanted you to be in here as well.” You snuggled into his side a little, which did seem to do the trick given how Kuko softened a bit (well, not entirely visibly at least, though you could read him more than that).

“Why are you even in here anyway?”

“I was cold.”

It’s not as if Kuko could blame you. Winter was certainly setting in Nagoya as of late, bringing bitter weather that left the tips of your fingers frostbitten or freezing wind. Snow was starting to make way as well, so the temperature of the past few days was quite low; and these blankets were the coziest that they had at the temple, some of the heaviest and warmest. They instantly warmed anyone up the moment they were underneath them.

“Yeah but didja have ta’ do it so sudden?” he sighed, though ultimately huddled up against you. “I wasn’t ready ya know.”

Although Kuko wasn’t the biggest fan of the cold, he was still rather accustomed to it, that is, it never really bothered him all that much. But he had to admit, even if he wasn’t too cold at the moment, at least, not compared to how you were (your hands against his were freezing, in all honesty), it still felt nice to be under these heavy blankets. There was no beating their warmth and comfort, difficult to even leave them. That plus your own warmth, even when you were cold, and touch only made Kuko want to stay under the blankets with you. It was so different from the usual chilly floors of the temple, so warm and inviting.

“My old man’s gonna be so pissed,” he mumbled, thinking of how his father was surely to scold him for neglecting his chores, instead cuddling you under the winter blankets. But Kuko also couldn’t help but smile right now. With the heaviness and comfort of the blanket as well as how you were all snuggled against him, certainly finding him to be your own personal heater, it was inevitable.

His chores could come later, surely.

Jyushi (596 words)

Jyushi loved nothing more than to be by your side right after practice for the day, huddled up next to you and feeling your touch and warmth that he had yearned for all day, more so directly after a concert or performance of sort. He was tuckered out, a bit lifeless almost and no energy left in him, though Jyushi was certain that you’d make him feel better. You were his remedy in a way, and he was rather excited to go home and see you.

So he couldn’t help but panic a little when you were nowhere to be found the moment he entered. You usually greeted him right away if you were home (and Jyushi was certain you were), and since you hadn’t this time around, Jyushi did admittedly grow a bit anxious. He missed you so after such a long day at practice, and he had wanted nothing more than to see you afterwards, although that wasn’t happening.

He certainly hadn’t expected you to be underneath such heavy blankets, however, nor to be dragged under them for that matter.

It was hard of him not to yelp when one moment he was standing in the bedroom, about to change, and the next, underneath blankets and face-to-face with you. It surely sent adrenaline coursing through his veins for a split second or so, taking a few moments for his heart to calm down afterwards.

“y/nnn, what was that for?” he whined, immediately latching on to you, a bit shaky and weak from the aftermath, but nonetheless relieved to see you. His hold on you was tight, perhaps a bit much, but Jyushi had been touch-starved throughout the day, so it made sense that he was more than glad to see you, even if your little prank had been harsh. “It’s so cruel!”

“Aw, I’m sorry Jyushi,” you mumbled, patting his head to help calm him down. It was hard not to slightly giggle, however, especially with how cute you thought Jyushi was. That pout he had on right now was too cute, though you continued to apologize until you saw it go away. You hadn’t meant to scare him too much, perhaps only surprise him a little, but you forgot to take into account that Jyushi was quite jumpy. “I just wanted to pull you under the blankets with me since it’s so cold outside.”

“You could’ve just asked…” Jyushi continued to cuddle with you, even if he was a bit pouty towards you right now, not really leaving any space between the two of you. Ah, this was what he had been waiting for all day, to come home and have your arms wrapped around him, to have you envelop him. It was so warm compared to the cold Nagoya snow outside or the loneliness of the studio, so inviting and comforting. It was better than any ol’ heater unit he had on all day. Jyushi had missed your touch dearly.

The way you gently combed through his hair and held him in your arms coupled with the warm blankets that you two were underneath, ah, he never wanted to get out. Jyushi instantly felt himself warm up, from his toes all the way to the tips of his ears. The heavy blankets the two of you bought did wonders, the plush fur and weight of it making for the utmost comfort. You were much warmer than him too, immediately feeling the heat you emitted in contrast to his cold hands when he held your hand.

Jyushi wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Hitoya (622 words)

When Hitoya came home from the firm that day, exhausted as ever from not only dealing with many clients but scanning case after case as well, he wanted nothing more than to sit on the couch, perhaps relax with a glass of whiskey in hand or with you by his side before bed. It had been an exceptionally long day, more than usual it felt like, and it didn’t help that the sun had began to set earlier, only making him feel more exhausted as time passed by. It was already dark enough out for the stars to shine by the time he left for home after all.

Hitoya had wanted nothing more than to finally relax in the comfort of his own home with you, but it seemed like it wouldn’t come just yet.

“You’re such a child,” Hitoya chided, seated in front of you and catching sight of that devious grin that you had on right now. He certainly knew how playful you could be at times, perhaps pulling little pranks or jokes here and there at times, though he hadn’t quite expected to have you surprise him by suddenly dragging him under the blankets, perhaps slipping a little in the process.

His headache seemed to only worsen.

“I still scared you though,” you teased, poking fun at the stoic expression Hitoya had on right now. He never was one that liked to show such emotions in front of you, not wanting to give you more to work with or tease him for. Hitoya had to admit, however, you had gotten him good. His heart jumped when he had felt something grab on to him from behind the blankets, the nerves getting to him, especially since Hitoya hadn’t really seen you anywhere when he entered. And he really hadn’t expected for you to be under the blankets, giggling at his stunned yet tired expression.

“Be more careful next time,” he couldn’t help but scold, lightly hitting you on the head, “I don’t like surprises.” He thought of all the lawsuits he had on behalf of accidents that occurred from surprises, though that was the lawyer side of him talking. It’d definitely be fun to perhaps bore you with the details of such cases, perhaps as payback even.

“You don’t like anything,” you retorted, wanting to continue teasing him. You couldn’t help it; it was so fun seeing his reactions after all. “And I was cold y’know, so I just wanted to warm up with you.”

As much as Hitoya didn’t like to think he was soft, it was hard to deny the soft spot he had for you when you gave him that pout. He knew that you were probably messing with him, wanting to tease him and have him melt in your arms given how rigid he could be, but Hitoya still couldn’t help but feel himself break a little when you gave him such a face. It was so…cute? if that’s the word. He sighed; it was difficult to stay mad at you for long. Was this really what love was like?

But it certainly was warm underneath these blankets, much better than the cold that raged on outside. And being next to you after a long day at the firm was definitely much needed. He forgot how much he grew to love your touch and presence, much different than anyone else’s. You felt the warmest and coziest, and as much as Hitoya did like being alone to an extent, he much preferred to have you instead, even when the headaches set in or when he was nothing but tired, more so in this cold weather.

mm, Hitoya felt himself finally relax for the first time that day.

#asks #requests #hypmic #kuko harai #kuko x reader #jyushi aimono #jyushi x reader #hitoya amaguni #hitoya x reader #fluff #fic #gender neutral reader

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timelesslords · 3 years

Text

I’ve Got This Fever

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth catches the flu, and domestic fluff ensues

Annabeth woke up in pain.

This wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence. Being a demigod, Annabeth was no stranger to pain. She’d had broken bones, burns, cuts, stab wounds…. you name an injury, Annabeth Chase had probably experienced it.

But this was a different kind of hurt, a hurt Annabeth hadn’t felt in a long time. Her head was pounding. Her mouth was drier than the Sahara desert. Her muscles ached, and even the soft sheets and pajamas she was wearing felt like knives on her skin. Despite being under a mountain of covers, she was shivering, bitterly cold.

There was no doubt about it. Annabeth was sick.

Annabeth never got sick.

She groaned, sitting up. That turned out to be a bad idea as a wave of nausea rolled over her, and she lowered herself back onto her pillows, falling the last half of the distance. She felt Percy shift beside her, woken from her movement.

“Hey,” he said, the smile fading quickly from his face as he saw her own expression, which was probably nothing short of miserable. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel like crap.”

She surprised even herself with how horrible her voice sounded, raspy and dry. Percy frowned, reaching out and touching her forehead. He normally ran hot, but now his fingers felt cool against her skin, almost painfully so.

“You’re burning up.” he said, frown deepening.

“I’m freezing.” Annabeth croaked. As if to prove her point, she shivered involuntarily.

“That’s the fever talking.” Percy said grimly, “Hold on.”

He climbed out of bed. His warmth left with him, and Annabeth was left just that much colder, trembling under the covers. Percy couldn’t have been gone more than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

When he returned he was holding a thermometer and a glass of water.

“Temperature first. The water might mess with the reading.” He said, apologetic. She wanted to hate him for that because she was so thirsty she thought she might die, but she knew he was right.

Annabeth sat up slowly. Thankfully this time she just felt a little dizzy and not nauseous. The thermometer was cold and uncomfortable under her tongue, but Percy kept a steadying hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her shoulder with his thumb. With her oversensitive skin it almost hurt, but she leaned into the contact anyways.

When the thermometer beeped, Percy traded it for the glass of water. Annabeth nearly downed the entire glass in one gulp.

“A hundred and one.” he announced, flipping the display so she could see. The number was lit up in red, signaling that she did, in fact, have a fever.

“I can’t be sick. I have class.” Annabeth said. Her voice was a little improved by the water, but she still sounded kind of terrible.

“Just email your professors and tell them you can’t make it.” Percy said, as if this were the easiest thing in the world.

For him it probably was. He did his best with school, but he also wasn’t opposed to ditching class every once in a while and blaming it on a fabricated stomach bug, something Annabeth found absolutely abhorrent. She hadn’t missed one class in her entire college career, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“It’s fine. I’ll just take some tylenol and I’ll be good to go.” Annabeth said. Percy gave her an exasperated look.

“Beth. You probably have the flu, you can’t go to class like this.”

“It’s just a little fever.” Annabeth protested. Really, she was already starting to feel better. It was just waking up that had been the hard part, and some ibuprofen would knock her headache and high temperature right out. Percy didn’t look so convinced, but what did he know.

“If you say so.” Percy said, crossing his arms over his chest. Annabeth looked at him suspiciously.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” she asked. Percy just gave a shrug, though his expression was a stubborn one.

“Nope. You can go right ahead.” Percy said, gesturing his hand off the bed. There was no way he should be giving up this easily, but if he wasn’t going to argue with her, Annabeth wasn’t going to be the one to start it.

She swung her legs carefully over the edge of the bed, glancing again at Percy. He gave her a go ahead look, so she did. The second she tried to put weight on her feet, her vision blacked out and her knees buckled. She would have fallen flat on her face if Percy hadn’t been waiting there to catch her. Her headache immediately doubled in intensity, and Annabeth groaned.

“Still wanna go to class?” Percy asked. He at least had the decency to sound sorry for her, even though making fun of her would have been just as deserved.

“That was mean.” Annabeth complained. Percy lowered her back into bed, gently pushing her shoulder so she would lie down again. Annabeth didn’t need so much convincing this time.

“It was the fastest way.” Percy said apologetically, brushing some hair out of her eyes “You would have fought me on it all day, otherwise.”

Annabeth sighed, but didn’t deny it. She probably would have been unbearable. She probably still was going to be unbearable.

“How am I sick? I never get sick. I’ve never had the flu in my life.” Annabeth said. She glanced upwards at Percy, who was looking very much like he was trying to not say something.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.” he said quickly, but Annabeth knew his expressions better than her own, and she knew when he was holding back.

“You’re thinking something.” Annabeth said accusingly. A smile cracked through his holding-back face.

“Should I not be?” he asked.

“You know what I mean.” Annabeth grumbled.

“Okay. I mean, I’m sure your immune system is very high-quality. I mean, it's yours, how could it not be?”

“Stop trying to butter me up.” Annabeth said, but she couldn't keep a smile all the way off her face.

“Who said I was buttering you up? I was complimenting your robust immune response” Percy said innocently, still grinning.

“Now you’re trying to distract me, but it won’t work.”

This was a complete lie. If he tried a little harder, it probably would work, and he knew it as well as she did. He caved anyways, which meant he probably did actually want to tell her what he was thinking.

“Okay, fine.” Percy said, “I was just going to say, you spent most of your winters at camp, which is totally isolated from the outside world, which means you haven’t really had a real flu season since you were like seven.”

“I went to boarding school.” Annabeth reminded him.

“Yeah, and you spent winter breaks at camp, or at your dad’s.”

He neglected to mention that she had spent one such break kidnapped by Luke and forced to carry the weight of the sky, which would have proved his point further, but Percy was not so ruthless during little discussions like these that he needed to bring up every last piece of evidence. Annabeth envied that restraint sometimes.

“Are you trying to tell me that my immune system probably actually sucks because it hasn’t been exposed to anything real since I was eight?” Annabeth asked. Percy bit his bottom lip.

“You said it, not me.” he said, with an apologetic shrug. Annabeth groaned again, rolling onto her stomach and shoving her face in her pillow. The sudden movement did nothing to relieve her headache; in fact it started pounding away with renewed vigor.

“But I got my flu shot and everything.” Annabeth complained, “I wash my hands all the time.”

“If you hadn’t gotten your shot you’d be feeling twice as bad right now, believe me.” Percy said. Between his ADHD-induced forgetfulness and his living in the city during flu season, Annabeth was inclined to trust him on that one.

“What do I do?” she asked, turning her face halfway off the pillow so she could look at him again. The sympathetic look he was giving her did not make her optimistic for his answer.

“Drink a lot of water and wait for it to pass.”

“That’s it?” Annabeth asked in disbelief.

“And keep an eye on your temperature.” Percy amended, “If it goes over a hundred and three I’m taking you to the ER.”

“Modern medicine is a sham.” Annabeth said. That elicited a laugh from him, at least.

“Go back to sleep. You can send your emails later.” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear.

“I don’t know if I can.” Annabeth said, and it wasn’t even a lie or her being stubborn. She was still freezing somehow, shivering even though she was under blankets again.

In response, Percy crawled back under the covers, wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled into his chest, stealing his warmth, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

“You have class.” Annabeth protested. She felt his laugh, a sturdy vibration in his chest, more than she heard it.

“Not anymore. I’m probably just as contagious as you at this point.”

Annabeth tried again.

“I’m going to get you sick.”

“Maybe.” Percy said, not sounding particularly bothered by it either way.

“But…” Annabeth trailed off. She didn’t want him to leave, but it also didn’t feel fair to keep him here, knowing she was probably condemning him to the same misery she was feeling now.

“Don’t worry about me.” Percy said, reading her thoughts, “I used to ride the subway everyday, I think I’ve had every strain of the flu known to man. And if you think I’m just going to leave you here shivering, you’re crazy.”

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Annabeth mumbled, scooting a little closer to him. The shakes were finally starting to dissipate, driven off by Percy’s warmth.

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice, even if she couldn’t see it.

“For now.” Annabeth said, though she had absolutely no intention of changing her mind, and he knew it better than she did.

“Go back to sleep, Wise Girl.” Percy said, kissing the top of her head.

“Fine.” she said, too tired to think of a good retort. “Seaweed Brain.” she added sleepily, for good measure. She felt him laugh again.

It took a while, but eventually she managed to drift off to sleep again, curled up against his chest.

#i had a shitty day at work so have some tooth-rotting fluff #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth fanfic #percabeth fluff #percabeth angst #pjo #pjo fic #pjo fanfic #pjo one shot #percabeth oneshot #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson fanfic #percy x annabeth

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warmblanketwhump · 3 years

Note

Idk if its too late to send this in but if it isn't, how about ⬤ and ✿?

✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention

⬤: being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey

(note: this MIGHT be cheating but my poor brain was stuck on ideas SO this is a part two to this prompt fill! would recommend reading that first for context, but pretty sure you can enjoy them independently :)

To any other person, the remote cabin would have looked like any old shack – slightly dilapidated, covered in moss, nested away among the trees. But to a lost, soaked, chilled-to-the-bone A, the cabin looks like a warm little slice of heaven, and it takes all they have not to run up the stairs. Instead, they slide an injured B off of their back and help them hobble to the small porch.

The pair limp across the threshold of the cabin and leave the pattering rain behind them, entering a small, spotlessly clean living room that smells of cedar and pine. A large, squashy-looking couch faces a dark fireplace with a tall stack of split logs nearby, and to the right of the doorway is a small kitchen. In the back, A spots a darkened bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and a linen closet. The cabin's rustic, so there's no electricity or hot water - just a single spigot and a gas stove for cooking.

They set a trembling B on the couch, pushing away the guilt of yelling at them earlier, of making them come out here in the first place.

“I’ll find us some towels and blankets. Can you start getting your wet clothes off?” Amid their violent shivers, B nods and starts shedding A’s raincoat and their own denim jacket with pruned, fumbling fingers. The sight nearly crushes A, but they know someone has to go find blankets to help them both get warm.

A pushes into the bathroom and locates several clean, threadbare towels, then heads to the linen closet. They nearly burst into happy tears when they see the large bundle of hideous plaid blankets and a couple piles of flannel and thermal clothing stacked neatly in the corner (forgotten by whoever rented it last, they guessed) and grab as much as their numb fingers can hold.

When they return to the couch, they find B in nearly the exact spot they left them - denim jacket off one arm, on the other, rain jacket fallen to the floor. They're hunched over, stiff with cold, arms crossed tightly.

“Oh sweetheart.…” A sighs, dropping the blankets on the couch and rushing to them.

“T-tried to ch-change. F-fingers won't-t work-k. I’m s-sorry-”

“B, you have nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve helped you in the first place.” A unthreads the soaked clothing from B’s shaking frame, gently patting their wet skin dry and lightly squeezing the water droplets out of their hair with a towel.

B’s eyes are bleary and unfocused, but they respond to A’s simple commands as they dress them in a pair of warm red flannel pants and a grey thermal long-sleeve. A casts a glance towards B's swollen ankle - it's not the worst injury they've ever seen, but it's definitely got to hurt. They dart back to the bathroom and locate a small first aid kit with a cloth bandage, and tenderly wrap up the sore ankle to immobilize it.

When they’re finished, they wrap B in two blankets: one around their legs and elevated ankle, and the other over their wet head and trembling shoulders. B sneezes, cinches the blanket tighter and groans.

“Look-k like a Russian p-peasant woman.” B grumbles, and A can’t help but let a chuckle escape. They really do look like a grandma, with only their face sticking out of the blanket cape.

“Alright, then, babushka. Let me get a fire started, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Mercifully, it only takes a few minutes for A to get a roaring fire going. A drapes another blanket around B's shoulders and gives them a quick, reassuring rub.

“I’m gonna change, okay? You just worry about warming up.” B moans weakly and pulls the blanket over their nose, edging closer to the flame’s heat.

A peels off their wet clothing in the drafty bedroom, hurriedly drying their own cold skin and pulling on their own warm clothes - a cream thermal and blue flannel pants. The brief exposure makes them shiver, and they chafe their arms and legs to rub away the goosebumps and the damp chill that sinks into their marrow. For just a moment, they acknowledge how cold they are, too. God, they wish this place had hot water.

The adrenaline of the moment begins to fade, and several facts strike them at once. They were freezing. They were stuck in a remote cabin with no electricity for the weekend. This whole weekend was their idea - and all their fault. And they felt guilty as hell about it.

Squeezing their wet hair, they shove the intrusive thoughts from their mind and grab a blanket from the bed to wrap tightly around their own shoulders, along with a couple pillows from the bed for B.

On returning to the living room, they see B managed to hop on their one good leg over to the fire, leaving a trail of two of their other blankets behind. They’re huddled as close as possible to the warm glow, head resting on the hearth. A drops the pillows on the couch and kneels down, running their fingers through B’s damp hair, now exposed by the fallen blanket.

“Feeling any better, love?”

B gives a small, wan smile that fails to light up their peaked face and shakes their head, turning to cough. When they’ve finished, they shudder weakly, pulling the blanket tighter.

“Can’t shake the chill in my bones.” B coughs again. A can see them rubbing their arms under the blankets. “Heat’s bouncing right off me. And I ache all over, not just my ankle.” Another chill rattles their teeth, and they pull the blanket up to their chin. “I just can’t warm up at all.”

A pulls a shivery B into a hug, rubbing their shoulders and trying to share the little body heat they’ve created - unlike B, the fire’s warmth is beginning to thaw them out. In the dim firelight, A can see a sheen of sweat on B’s forehead, and alarm bells go off. Instinctively, A reaches out to press their cold hand to it. It’s warm now. Too warm for someone who just spent two hours trekking through the cold rain.

"Sweetheart, you're feverish. That’s why you’re achy and chilled.”

“S’pose it makes sense. I’m just freezing.” A gust of wind rattles the cabin, and a draft snakes its way into the living room, making B shudder and curl up even closer to A. “I’d kill for a hot shower right now.”

“Don’t go all ‘The Shining’ on me yet - we just got here.” A grabs a towel to try and further dry B’s damp hair. It was probably an old wives’ tale, but they didn’t have many options to keep a sick person comfortable out here, and wet hair couldn’t feel good.

B had complained about feeling a cold coming on a couple days ago, and mentioned that they might not want to go this weekend. A had made fun of them for it, joking about how someone like B never let a little cold get them down. And now, thanks to them, B was even sicker. They really were the worst friend in history.

“Do you think you could manage some tea?" A asks quietly. B closes their eyes and nods, laying their head back on the hearth.

 It takes a few minutes, but A manages to light the gas stove and locate a kettle, along with a dusty box of herbal tea tucked away in a cupboard. Whoever they had rented from had stocked it high with all kinds of canned soups and dry goods, so at least they’d be prepared for the long haul.

A sudden glance out the window reveals that the rain has turned into fat, white snowflakes, whirling in the sky and dusting the porch. A rubs their hands together, holding their chilled fingers as close to the stove flame as possible. The kettle whistles and A pours two cups, reveling in the warm steam that tickles their nose.

Once the tea is brewed, they make their way back to the fireplace. B's too weak to lift their own head, so A sits behind them and props them up, holding the teacup and helping them take small sips of the warm liquid. Once the cup is empty, A helps B lay their head back on the hearth before adding a few more logs to the fire and starting on their own tea.

Despite the warm fire, A can feel the ambient temperature of the room dropping. There's no way B's going to stay warm enough in the bedroom, so they’ll just have to make do out here for now.

After pushing the couch until it's just inches in front of the fire, A sweeps B into their arms and helps them back to the couch, easing them gently onto the pillows they've laid and tucking a blanket back around them. Even this close to the fire, the brief movement had set off another round of bone-shaking chills in B, and they grip their blanket so hard A’s afraid they’ll tear it.

“A?" B's voice is weak.

“I’m right here.”

“A, can you hold me? Please?” The desperation is palpable. B’s breathing is hoarse and they're close to tears, arms wrapped tightly around themselves. “Shivering hurts, but I can’t stop. I know you probably don’t want to get sick from me-”

A’s heart breaks. “Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll keep you warm.” They slide onto the couch and wrap their own blanket around the both of them, pulling B’s fevered body to their chest. B clings to their body, and A can feel the shakes that ripple through them. A gently massages their arms and back in slow circles and B presses closer, the vulnerability almost too much to bear.

Finally, A says what’s been eating away at them for hours. “B, I’m so sorry for what I said on the trail. I shouldn’t have said it, and I didn’t mean it. I do want you here. And now we’re here, and you're sick and hurt and it’s my fault, and I’m sorry for that too.” The apology comes out in such a rush, and B is quiet for so long in their arms that they doubt B even heard it.

But then they feel B’s trembling arms squeezing their waist. “Nature’s not your fault, A. Besides, if being taken care of is a part of your apology, it's warm and I'll take it."

A grips B even tighter, fighting back tears. “Whatever happens this weekend, I’ve got you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do. You always have,” B mumbles as they slip into a restless sleep. In front of the warm fire, A reasons that the drafty bedroom was probably too cold for anyone to sleep in. No, they were perfectly content to stay right here with B - and not even the promise of a warm shower could lure them away.

#this is a damn novel but whatev #I loved it too much to stop #sickfic #sickfic prompt #whump prompt #cold whump #cabin whump #shivering #flu #fever #blankets #hurt comfort #lost in the woods #this was so fun to write #literally sat on this the entire holiday weekend #edited this SO MANY TIMES #this is what happens when you adore a trope #my writing

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myfeetkeepdancing · 3 years

Photo

"You're going with it?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I do." Tom giggled charmingly. "I like it." Checking out his outfit. Once again, no pants and white socks. Topped off with this fashionable black suit. "Keeps my temperature just about right." Trying to justify his pantless outfit while pushing the last folds out. "Warm suit, cool legs. It's just… right." He smiles fondly, enjoying his decision.

"I clearly remember from last time you were all hot and bothered at the end." Shifting in your seat. "And that only in a space of… thirty to forty seconds." His mouth gasped open as if this revelation was utterly based on lies. "It showed. Big time."

"It wasn't that bad!"

"Well, a face as red as a tomato, I sure won't forget."

"What do you think?!" He stands up, approaching you, leaning in for that sweet kiss. "I had you-…"

"Careful, darling." You interrupt and flinch back on purpose, Tom hovering inches away from your lips. Holding the pitcher of water in between the two of you. "Don't wanna spill this-...." You grin. "All over those pretty legs... and black boxer shorts." Stealing a quick kiss on his lips. "Wouldn't want you showing on camera covered in wet spots."

"Then you better hold on tight." He jests and pushes on. Pressing his lips onto yours with more force than usual. His hands grabbing the backrest of your chair. Turning his kiss more violent and heavy. You feel like he'd push you off the chair with this intensity. While you fought to stay balanced. Both hands on the pitcher. Careful not to spill anything.

"I had you…" He continued, despite having his lips occupied with yours. "-you… watching me... teasing me..." Pushing you furthermore onto the chair. It sat so uncomfortable, but now even more. Finding your balance. While also trying to listen to Tom. And that kiss, so passionate and fierce, that even breathing became a task worthy of your attention. Each word he spoke, he'd give you a breather, pulling back. Utter a few well-placed words. You were literally hanging onto his lips. "Darling, you're more… than a pretty distraction.

"You know what they say." You mumble in the kiss. Noses nuzzled together. As he slowed down, finally allowing you to speak. His smile radiating against yours. "Right...?"

"It's about my legs." He says, taking back. Giving you a moment of respite. "Or my crotch?" Staring at you with squinted eyes. "Which one is it?" He keeps going. "You think I should put some pants on...?" He looked to the side, struck by indifference. "Is it fashion, though?" You wonder for a moment if you let him ramble. What path this would lead.

"Joe Russo-…" You whisper, grabbing his attention immediately. "-has better thighs than you." Biting your lower lip, trying hard to contain your laughter.

"For real?" He pulls back just as you're going in for the second round of kisses. "Are you joking?" Trying to act as if he feels offended. "It's about the pitcher…" Crossing his arms. "Isn't it?" Waiting for your reaction. "Am I right?"

"I had no hand in this, Tom." Shrugging your shoulders. "Your thighs are trending, and the people have spoken. It's universally agreed upon that Joe has better thighs than you."

"I can't…. I can't believe it." Tom's expression was priceless. His expression switched from dumbstruck to disbelief, to stunned and back again. All in a matter of seconds. Staring off to the side. Eyes glazing over for a moment. "Guess I'll… I'll wear pants then..." Sounding slightly disappointed.

"Though, I can say I had a hand on this." You chuckle, patting the bare naked skin of his thigh. Just as he was about to head for his pants. Which he had found in the end. Tom being chaos incarnate himself, always loses things. Even if he packed it himself.

"And you liked it." He smiled with this smug expression. Tom being more than pleased with himself being able to find a victory in this derailed conversation. Slipping on his tailored pants, all black, and matching.

"True. But I never had Joe's… so..." You taunt, eyeing the entirety of the suit. "Difficult one."

"You're unbearable today." Leaning in for a kiss as the call came in.

"Handsome." You add on. "Unbearably handsome." Fighting to keep the kiss going with all the giggles and laughter in between.

"Don't go stealing my title, love."

"Give your waterboy some credit."

"Don't... don't say that." He pouts his lips. "Because I had a little argument-"

"Fallout, you mean." Tom averted his gaze as he knew very well it was his fault. His temper did play a hefty part in it. He sure wasn't proud of it. Especially since one of his brothers was on the receiving end. "You and your tempers." You shake your head like a judgmental parent. "Now you have to deal with me again."

"Thank you for doing this." Trying to brush away his feelings of guilt. Charging in for a simple exchange of kisses again.

"You told me to."

"I didn't say that!" He smiled. "At least… not in those words."

"I could have been hitting the bar by now."

"I know… Don't make me feel all guilty, love. What is it you want?" Slowly peeling himself off of you. Feeling the heat of the call still ringing behind him. "Another deal?" Nonetheless, kissing you back. "Just like last time..."

"You know what I want.” You moan into the kiss. Not many more words needed to spilled about it. The though alone made Tom’s lips shudder against yours. You can’t help but grin. “How about some credit, Tom." You mumble after his departing lips. "Credit where credit is due." Taking him by surprise.

"Shit…" Tom cursed while looking back at his laptop, giggling as his thoughts were elsewhere occupied. The call went unanswered, turning everything quiet again. Except for both of your racing heart. "Probably Jimmy's assistant."

"Tommy…" You try to catch his attention again, with your hand on his cheek. Pulling his eyes and lips back to you. "You heard me."

"Yeah, Yeah." He giggled while his smile grew in size. "I heard you." The way he averted his gaze from yours sure told you he was trying to think a way out of it. "I'll think about it." Pecking a quick kiss to your forehead. "I will."

"Say it, Tom." You urge on. "Or I undress right here, right now..."

"Usually, I'd help you." He smirked with this expression of pure mischief. "But now. Please don't. Not now."

"Please, do remind me."

"You know you're more than a pretty distraction." He giggled, taking your cheeks in his hands. Feeling all warm and soft. Just like his lips. Welcoming and soothing to the touch.

"Time to choose." The second call came. Making Tom veer back up. "If you're not going to say it… then I at least want you to show it."

Tom shook his head, smile stretching. "I'll say it again..." His hand hovered across the pad of his laptop. "You're-"

"Just pick up, Tom." You break him off mid-sentence. "And keep that temper of yours in check. Jimmy Fallon is waiting." Prodding him into his side just as he was about to answer. "And you fix this with Harry!" Going from prodding to tickling. The other hand unable to keep the pitcher leveled, spilling the water on you.

Tom's eyes widened seeing you rise from the chair, ditching the pitcher on the table beside you. Immediately lifting his finger from the pad. Freezing on the spot.

"Promise me, Tom…" Hooking your finger in the band of his pants. Pulling him flat against you. His fingers slipping between your pants, feeling your hips and hovering your lips inches apart from each other. Both sucking a nervous breath.

"I… I have to take this call." He stammered, sucking on his lips. Tom's eyes always darted up and down, taking you in, mentally undressing you. While his fingers caress and feel the curves of your body.

"Tom…" Kissing him slow and passionate. Letting your fingers find the buttons of his pants. "Apologize to Harry..." And he lets you. Loosening the belt, feeling the tension of the fabric loosen. Hooking your fingers in, careful not to bring his shorts with. And slowly start pulling them down.

"I will..." He whispered, watching you discarding his pants before leading you back to the chair. You were so caught up in each other. If there weren't a call still going in the background, there for sure had happened something way more exciting. Almost missing the ongoing call. "I promise. I will…" Kissing you a final time. "You bastard..." He smirked. "I'll get you."

"I'm sure you will." Watching him recover and get back over his laptop. "I'm sure…" Taking in the new pantless Tom. "So, no deal this time around?"

"You drive me crazy!" The call still going. Tom starting to panic slightly.

"I know." You smile. "And you know I can still undress here?"

"Don't!" He shot back. "This interview is way too long for that."

"Is that Rolex watertight by the way?"

He sneaked a glance at his watch as if he was going to read the number right of the surface. "Yeah, I believe it's up to-..." He looked up at you, eyes widened and a look of terror followed by a smile of mischief. "No (Y/N)..." He started shaking his head. "No-No-No! No! Don't you th-... Don't!" Holding out a hand towards you. "I got plenty more shots with this suit."

"Credit where credit is due, Tom. Or… you show your legs. Full into frame." Slowly swirling the water in the pitcher as a way of threatening him. "Proof your thighs are superior to Joe's."

"So… you... do think they're superior?" A smug little smile spreading across his face as he sits himself in front of the laptop. "Just admit it." Rising back to his feet again. "I mean..." Taking a step back and planting his feet on the chair. Showing the beautiful shape of his leg. "-look at it."

"God, Tom… If you keep going like this, you're not going to make it to this interview. I swear..." Feeling the rush of heat shooting through. Throwing some water across your face from the pitcher. Tom looking all pleased with himself. "Now shield your crotch-..." Giving him a wink. "...-and don't forget to flex those muscles. Make me proud."

#tom holland x male reader #tom holland x male!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland male!reader #male!reader #male reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland #mlm

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mizunetzu · 3 years

Text

Tags~: @scifiji @shiny-bun @luv-hqs @gummiebearsmp4 @aquariusmurderer @inarizza @roadkillarr (finally I made the part two AHAHAH)

——————

Kita x reader - warm, warm professions (God I love you so much) (cold cold obvs. Part 2)

Warnings - ahaha angst, crying Kita

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find part one here!

——————

“Shicchan, your hands are so cold...”

(Y/n) cupped both of Kita’s numb hands in his own. Kita tensed, looking down at both of their hands. He felt his own hands being attacked with (Y/n’s) warm ones, his cold, cold hands already thawing just at the one touch.

“Isn’t it hard to toss the ball when you’re hands are numb? That’s bad!” (Y/n) brought Kita’s hands to cup his face, his hands stinging from how warm his cheeks were.

(Y/n) nuzzled his face into Kita’s left hand. He practically murmured into his palm. “How’d they get so cold in the first place?”

Kita wouldn’t show it, in fact he didn’t think he could if he tried, but the warmth that spread across his chest made him suddenly want to run laps. He settled for slightly gripping and rubbing (Y/n’s) cheeks with his thumbs. “I don’t know.” Was all Kita could muster. He was too lost in (Y/n’s) captivating eyes.

God, he loved him so much.

——

Numb.

Numb was the way Kita would describe the feeling in his mouth.

He sat quietly on a foldable chair in the gym, twirling his fingers together instead of watching the practice match going on. He didn’t think he could pay attention if he tried, when he used to be able to have his eyes glued onto the ball even though he was on the sidelines. His fingers felt kind of numb.

He wrapped his fingers up in his shirt to no avail. All it did was make his stomach cold from his fingers bitter touch. It wasn’t even that cold outside. It was a rather nice day in terms of weather. But it didn’t feel like that at all.

“-ita. Kita!”

Kita raised his head. Atsumu loomed above him with his arms crossed.

“...Did you need something, Atsumu-san?”

“Yeah. Why’re ya actin’ all depressed? You’re makin’ everyone feel depressed too, y’know.”

“Atsumu! Shut the fuck up!” Kita heard someone whisper-yell, as well as a grunt of pain from Atsumu. Kita blinked.

“Nothing...much.”

“Nothin’ much?! How bout’ when you started cryin’ yer ass off during practice a week ago? Didn’t seem like nothin’ to me!”

Osamu slapped Atsumu upside the head. Aran sighed.

“I gotta agree with Atsumu-san on this. You don’t look too good these days. Especially since (L/n)-san stopped showin’ up to practice.”

There was hums and nods of agreement. Kita pursed his lips.

“Did...did something happen between y’all?”

Kita couldn’t look Aran in the eyes. He, also, used to have no problem speaking his mind (in fact sometimes it came out automatically) but right now his mouth was glued shut. Now, and probably forever. He didn’t wanna say it. He didn’t wanna think it. He didn’t wanna hear it-

“Kita and (L/n) broke up a week ago.”

Suna pitched in monotonously. Kita flinched subtly. The gym was silent. All eyes were on Kita. His throbbing, cold hands didn’t help, as he tried warming them up discreetly by stuffing them under the backside of his shirt.

“Oh...uh, sorry.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t mind.”

The awkward, sympathetic pats on the back didn’t really help either, but he replied with a curt “s’fine.” nonetheless.

——

(Y/n) kissed the back of Kita’s hand.

“Looks like your hands warmin’ up...” He drew it away from his lips and examined it with half lidded eyes and a reserved smile. Kita watched as tiny specs of sun fluttered around (Y/n’s) warm face, painting his face and hair with light that made him look like an angel sent from heaven.

Kita mindlessly brought his free hand up to the side of (Y/n’s) face, touching and stroking his cheek with the grace of a feather. (Y/n) looked up from his hand, up at Kita’s face.

(Y/n) leaned into his touch. He used his other hand to cup the hand resting peacefully on his cheek, nuzzling his nose further into Kita’s palm.

“Something wrong?”

“No...”

Kita felt a throbbing, hazy feeling in his chest. Like something inside his ribcage was trying to break free, and explode into a million pieces.

“Then, do you just like holding my face?” (Y/n) smiled that smile that made him go weak in the knees. “That’s good...I like it when you hold my face too.”

God, he loved him so much.

——

Kita slumped down, doubled over himself panting and heaving on the sidewalk where Inarizaki was collectively jogging. Ginjima stopped in front of Kita, jogging in place.

“You’re usually in the very front of the pack when we all run.” He said in between huffs.

Kita said nothing, only panting and crouching down to catch his breath.

“You run in the very back of the group now.”

He was met with no response again. Ginjima stopped running in place, and stared down pitifully at Kita’s hunched over body.

“S’everything alright back there?!” Aran called out from a distance. Ginjima yelled out a “Everything’s fine!” While waving his arms around in the air until Aran waved back. Ginjima looked back at Kitas scrunched up form.

“Y’know-maybe you should just...go home for the day. Take a break.”

Kita looked up at him with dry, tired eyes. His throat refused to put out any other sounds than exhales the occasional cough.

“Go freshen up and go home. You won’t die missing a day of practice.” Ginjima crouched down to Kita’s face, his voice noticeably softer and careful. “It’s not like you to push yourself when you know you’re not doing well.”

“I’m not sick, it’s not the same thing-“

“But you’re heartbroken.”

Heartbroken. Kita supposed that was the word to describe his situation right now. Heartbroken, yet it didn’t feel like the correct word to describe how he felt. He felt like he was dying. Drowning. Freezing.

“I’ll walk you back, ‘kay?” Ginjima pushed off his feet, extending a hand over to Kita. He pulled him up, and Kita swayed in the air like a bobblehead. “Go change and go home. We’ll see you tomorrow, don’t worry. I’ll tell the others you went home.”

Ginjima and Kita walked in the opposite direction they were running. Kita downcast his face.

“M’kay.”

——

“Do you love me?”

Kita remembered the way (Y/n’s) face didn’t radiate the warm glow it usually did when he was around him. His eyes looked strained, infuriated even, and he looked like he wanted to say something more. But it was a simple question, ‘do you love me?’. And of course he did. So that’s what he said.

“...Of course I-“

“”of course I do.” That’s what you always say..! Say something else, dammit! Say you love me!”

(Y/n) abruptly rose from his seat, stepping over the bench and grabbing Kita by the collar. He pulled him closer to his face, shaking him by the shirt with knuckles that almost turned white.

“M-Make me believe that you love me!”

He really wish he didn’t remember how much tears flowed freely from (Y/n’s) eyes, and how he was biting and gnawing at his lip to keep from screaming, or the way he shook with despair in general. It played over and over again, the same sorrow-riddled expression that made Kita’s stomach drop.

He really wish he didn’t remember. But he wished he’d said something, anything, even more.

(Y/n’s) face went from angry and sad, to numb and cold in a matter of seconds. He’d much rather prefer the heated look of (Y/n’s) angry face, than the stone cold lifeless look (Y/n) held when he let go of his shirt. Because even with his angry sobs and screams, there was still a hint of warmth. Even if it was angry passion, it was still better than the cold, dead stare he held that Kita couldn’t meet.

“...I think we should break up.”

Kita’s world went silent. He was struck with an immediate shock of dread, panic, stress, and everything in between. He had so many questions. Why? Didn’t he know that he loved him? He loved him so, so much, so why was he saying that he didn’t? Was his love not enough? Didn’t he know how much he needed him?

He had so many questions, yet his face made of cold stone could only say one thing.

“Why?”

(Y/n’s) iron clad grip on Kita’s shirt loosened, he stepped back, face feeling raw after crying. “I don’t want to be with someone who can’t tell me they love me. Once you can tell me you love me, and mean it, I’m all ears.”

Kita watched as (Y/n) turned his back on him for the first and last time. More thoughts raced in his head. He could change. He could do better. He’d love him a thousand times more, fix every little imperfection, hell, do it a thousand times over again if it meant that (Y/n) would turn around with that warm smile again. He wanted see that smile again. That smile that made him feel so warm. Please. One more time. Kita’s arm gravitated outwards, reaching for (Y/n’s) cold back as he turned away. One more time, please smile for me.

But he didn’t. He was met with nothing more than a cold shoulder.

He was left with the sudden drop in temperature, the world once filled with so much warmth being winded away into a cold wasteland. Kita looked down, his eyes numb and wide.

“Please come back...” he remembered saying, though he didn’t think it ever came out audibly.

“I love you, (Y/n)...”

‘God...dear God...’

He loved him so much.

‘Why did you take him away from me?’

‘The gods were always listening, is what my Baa-san would always say. Were the gods not listening to my undying love for you, (L/n)(Y/n)? Was my feelings for you not enough to make you smile for me one last time? God, I loved you so much.’

‘So did I not love you enough?’

——

Kita found himself sitting on the same bench (Y/n) professed his love for him to. Granted, it was the same bench they had broken up on, but Kita didn’t want to think about that.

He twirled a wilted cherry blossom petal in between his fingers. The rigid, dark pink petal cracked and crumbled, turning into dust in Kita’s hand.

As much as he hated this place, this stupid stone bench with a cherry blossom tree, it was a beautiful sight that not much students knew about. It was quiet, but it caused (Y/n’s) cold, cold eyes to bore into his mind all the more he stayed. It was a double edged sword.

He sometimes wondered what (Y/n) was doing with his free time outside of the club. What did he do? Did he take a nap after classes? His sleeping face looked very cute, though he only saw it once when he dozed off studying at his house. Did he spend time with his parents? He always found people respectable to their parents very attractive. Did he find a new club to stay with?

Kita clenched his fists. The thought of (Y/n) playing a different sport, doing something else after school, didn’t sit right with him. Was that what he was doing? Did he realize how cold and uncomfortable he made volleyball for him, and decided to leave? Would he never see him smiling up at him again after school?

Would he never see (L/n) (Y/n’s) warm, warm smile directed at him ever again?

He heard footsteps echo on the grass behind him. The footsteps halted awkwardly, and Kita turned around.

(Y/n) locked eyes with Kita. He should’ve been paying attention to where he was going, huh? Maybe if he was looking where he was walking, he could’ve noticed Kita Shinsuke sitting there, and could’ve found a different spot to sit at after school.

(Y/n) wasted no time spinning on his heel and leaving. He didn’t wanna face Kita after everything that went down.

Kita feet sprang him up and off the bench. He didn’t know what he was doing, but the next thing he knew was that his arms wrapped around (Y/n’s) body, holding him while he was facing away. Kita’s mind raced with thoughts and went absolutely blank at the same time.

(Y/n) pursed his lips. “What do you want?” He said. It came out harsher than he intended, but Kita paid no mind. He wordlessly buried his face into the crook of (Y/n’s) neck, nuzzling it and relishing in the warmth that was not intended for him.

“H-hey! What gives!” (Y/n) half-heartedly tried pushing Kita away. He knew if he gave in now, he’d come crawling back into Kita’s cold, loveless arms, craving that touch and pretending it was indeed, love. “Don’t...don’t touch me, Kita-“

“Shinsuke.”

The arm that was trying to push Kita away went limp. (Y/n’s) hardened exterior cracked as his resolve faltered. Kita buried himself deeper into (Y/n’s) shoulder, firmly wrapping his arms around (Y/n) tightly. He was practically murmuring into (Y/n’s) school uniform.

“Call...call me Shinsuke...it’s what you used to call me...when we first started dating...”

“Well,” (Y/n) downcast his face, his eyes hardened and cold while he balled up his fists. “We aren’t dating. So why does it-“

All of (Y/n’s) resolve, all the time he spent putting up the barrier to his emotions, shattered once he heard the first sniffle from Kita.

After that, Kita fell apart like dominoes.

His grip on (Y/n’s) waist tightened as he shook violently, sobs crescendoed and ripping through his body explosively, unlike the silent tears that he shed that day he left. His whimpers and choked cries were muffled from the cloth of (Y/n’s) uniform. He loved him so much. Why couldn’t he see how much he loved him?

Kita cried and cried on (Y/n’s) shoulder. He couldn’t see the type of face (Y/n) was making, and that made him all the more nervous. He wanted to feel the warmth of (Y/n) at least one last time. After that, he swore he would move on. He swore. He swore, so one last time. Please.

(Y/n) sighed. “Kita...”

Kita didn’t respond. He continued to cry pathetically onto (Y/n’s) shoulder.

“Kita-kun.”

This time, Kita shakily shook his head. (Y/n) sighed, this time more stably, and untangled Kita’s vice grip from his body.

“Shinsuke-kun...”

Kita, confused and sad, finally caught a glimpse of (Y/n’s) face when he turned around. He had a look of empathy, his warm hands brought up to his cheeks, melting his ice cold skin awake. Kita rumbled with another choked sob, closing his eyes and sobbing into (Y/n’s) hands. It was so warm. After the cold winter storm he’d suffered through, the first ray of sunshine that shone through always felt the best.

“Shinsuke-kun,” (Y/n) repeated. Kita hiccuped, trying to stop his tears from falling.

“P-lease come back...” Kita’s voice was hoarse, cracking with every word. “I-I don’t like this...”

(Y/n) said nothing. Kita broke free from (Y/n’s) soft grip on his face, and brought him into a hug. He was never much for physical affection, but right now (Y/n) felt so, so warm.

“You’ve...you’ve treated me so kind...I-I’m sorry...i’ve been so cold...” Kita rambled on, sobbing into (Y/n’s) hair quietly. (Y/n) still didn’t say anything.

“I-I...didn’t mean to...I swear...! I’ll be a better boyfriend...please...I’ll love you correctly...”

(Y/n’s) silence was defecating. Kita felt his ears go numb with the silent treatment he was being put through. Was this his punishment?

“I...say something...! Please...” Kita whispered, tears gathering at his eyes once more. “Please...”

Then, (Y/n) finally wrapped his warm arms around Kita. He mumbled pathetically, “Y’know I don’t like it when people cry, Shinsuke...”

It was Kita’s turn to go quiet. (Y/n) pulled away, much to Kita’s protest. However, the warm smile (Y/n) gave him made his heart throb and his throat close up.

(Y/n) caressed Kita’s face with his thumb. “Stop crying...”

“I love you...” Kita whispered, his voice cracking at the seams. (Y/n’s) face adorned a look of astonishment, a slight blush lighting up his already perfect sunny face.

(Y/n) smiled again. That same smile Kita had been craving for forever.

“T-Tell me that again...please.”

Kita collapsed into (Y/n’s) warm arms. Choked sobs of “I-I love you-!” And “I-I love you so much...” echoed through the air. The emotionless barrier, holding all of Kita’s emotions captive to the world, cracked and shattered, his crying face bearing the weight of a man who loved (L/n) (Y/n) with his entire being.

(Y/n) stroked the back of Kita’s head softly.

“Of course you do...”

God, he loved him so much.

——————

#kita angst #kita shinsuke x reader #kita x you #kita x y/n #kita x male reader #shinsuke kita x reader #kita shinsuke #kita x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu boys #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x male reader #hq x y/n #hq x male reader

855 notes · View notes

ichorai · 3 years

Text

frozen hearts, flaming arrows ; p.sh

parts ; one. masterlist. two coming soon.

pairing ; fire!seonghwa x ice!reader

summary ; two enemy clans. one icer healer, one flamer soldier, one brewing war. love was never meant to be a part of this. but then again, when is love ever supposed to be a part of anything?

words ; 7.3k

warnings / includes ; cursing, violence, a make-out scene !!, future suggestive / mature content, hwa being sexy as always, ANGST okay this is a lot of ANGST and hURT, enemies to friends to enemies to lovers trope lol

a/n ; bet yall didn’t see this one coming lol but yea pls enjoy !!! im rlly excited for this series omg !!! im sorry this part was rlly short and kinda bad kkdfjdf but this is just the beginning and i swear part two will be much better !!

A snowflake glowing a luminescent blue lazily floated above your palm, multiplying into several others until you held a mini-flurry in your hand. You walked past all the frosted-over trees, huffing in deep breaths of cold air as your boots stepped over piles of unblemished snow and crispy dead leaves.

Being a healer was exhausting. Though you were still fairly new to the job, you couldn’t help but lay all the blame on yourself for being incapable of saving a life today. You just… hadn’t expected there to be that much blood. Icers had thicker blood for a reason; it wasn’t usually a problem. The head healer tried to reassure you that you did everything you could, but you couldn’t stand to be in the medbay for much longer. You needed air.

And that’s how you ended up here, head spinning dizzily as you stomped through the wintry grey forest, releasing out a frustrated groan from the bottom of your lungs.

“You’re dangerously close to our territory, Icer.” The sudden deep-timbered voice had you flinching so harshly you hit your head on an icy tree branch. “I’d watch my step if I was you.”

Breath caught in your throat, you watched with wide eyes as the Flamer stepped out of the shadow of a tree. He was undeniably handsome; his irises were dark, flecked with a fierce gold the same hue as the edge of a fire, his slicked-back hair a nightly black, and a curl of his carmine lips that was nowhere near friendly. An obvious insignia of a red flame was embedded into his unwrinkled jacket, a clear sign of this man being from the Fire Tribe.

“I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized I was so close to the border.” You murmured, backing away slowly. The small snowflakes that you had accumulated in your palm quickly dissipated into the air, but miniscule particles of snow still floated around you, no doubt a result of your quaking nerves.

Noticing this, the man watched curiously as a snowflake drifted by him. He raised a finger towards the ice crystal, a small orange flame bursting out of the tip. The snowflake melted into a droplet of water, falling to his feet. You noticed the snow had melted away from him in a large circle around his shoes, now standing in a patch of wet grass. Even from the great distance between the two of you, you could still feel the wavering heat pulsating from this strange man.

“What are you doing so far away from your people?”

You knew you shouldn’t be talking to a Flamer stranger. They were dangerous, and it was common knowledge that Icers and Flamers weren’t on the best terms as of late.

“I couldn’t be there anymore,” You whispered, just loud enough for him to pick up. At his raised eyebrows, you continued on. “I’m a healer. It was a lot of pressure not to mess up.”

He nodded, his curiosity getting the best of him. He stepped closer and asked, “Then why are you a healer?”

“Because I’m good at it.” The words came off far too snobbish for your liking, so you quickly added in a sheepish tone, “Also because I like helping people.”

The two of you fell into a queer silence, before he nodded, somewhat satisfied with your answer. The Flamer turned his back to you, “I best get going now. The lands aren’t going to patrol themselves. Run back to the rest of your people, Icer.”

You could feel his heat retract as he walked away. More snow fell to cover his tracks, as if the strange man with flaming eyes was never there.

It wasn’t until the same time the next day that you found yourself strolling towards the forest, back to the same spot last night, feet acting to their own accord. You paused in your steps when you realized where you were heading.

Would you really risk getting a Flamer angry at you for getting too close to their borders again? With not another thought, you pushed back the doubts and walked onwards… it wasn’t like you actually crossed the border. There was a large grey strip of forest land that belonged to neither tribe; it was far too costly to maintain and the forest gave them nothing but bugs and piles of dead leaves.

Much to your surprise, the man was already there, watching you with those glowing eyes of his. “What are you doing here?” He hissed.

“I can ask you the same thing,” You retaliated, arching an eyebrow.

The cold wind whistled as it blew past you, but you were planted firmly to the ground. He, on the other hand, grimaced quite obviously as the breeze tousled his neat hair about, sending dark strands careening into his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” You said with a small smile. Although he pulsated with heat, that only made him feel the frigid sting of the cold wind all the more. At the sight of his shivering form, you wondered just how bad a Flamer can be.

He eyed you suspiciously before stepping forward quite boldly, sticking out a hand, “I’m Seonghwa.”

There was a strange arrhythmic thump in your chest. Now that he was so close to you, the lilith-hued snow around your feet started to wilt away as well, your cheeks flushing at the sudden rise in temperature. Icers weren’t very good with heat, that was obvious.

And when you took his hand, it was as if he was the coldest thing you’ve ever touched. But that couldn’t be it… you couldn’t really feel the cold much. Nonetheless, you gripped his palm unflinchingly, staring him dead in the eye. It became like some sort of challenge, but the both of you knew that you had obviously won. Seonghwa winced at how freezing your fingers against his were.

“Do you come here everyday?” The Flamer asked once he retracted his hand from yours to shove into the warmth of his pocket.

“Yesterday was my first time. I wasn’t planning on coming back today, but I just ended up here on instinct.” Your boot scuffed the pristine snow, avoiding the way his gaze seemed to quite literally burn holes into you.

Seonghwa frowned slightly. Funnily enough, the same exact thing had happened to him. He wasn’t on patrolling duty today, so really, he had no cause to be out here. He could be curled up with a book in front of a nice, warm fire, instead of standing in the snow with an Icer, of all people. Gods, he must be crazy.

“So… what are you doing here?” Your seemingly innocent question had Seonghwa struggling for words.

In all honesty, he had been curious whether or not you’d come back. An Icer healer in the Grey Forest was more than enough to pique his interest. Nothing remotely gripping ever happened in the Fire Tribe (other than the various men and women who threw themselves at him whenever they got the chance). He hadn’t actually expected you to come back.

“I’m… hunting.”

“It’s illegal to hunt outside of your tribe lands, everybody knows that.”

“Who said I was hunting for an animal?” Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest to try and look somewhat menacing, but you just grinned. “I was looking for a book I lost.”

You hummed slightly, “Right.” As you waved your arm about, little snowflakes seemed to trail after you, and Seonghwa watched in masked fascination. “Can’t you just admit that you came to see me again?”

“Who’s to say that it’s not you coming to see me?”

“Hmm, let’s just say we both came to see each other. I’ve never seen a Flamer up this close before.”

Seonghwa blinked down at you with wide eyes, as if realizing just how small the distance between the two of you was. His cheeks reddened quickly as he cleared his throat into a fist, stepping backwards and almost slipping on more snow. When he attempted to sidestep the large wet puddle he’d created because of his rippling heat, his foot caught onto a tree root and he tumbled backwards. Snowflakes clung onto his dark hair and he shivered yet again. You tried to conceal your sniggers behind a palm, but Seonghwa still seemed to notice, his blazing eyes narrowing in mock-offense.

“You’re enjoying this,” He stated with an accusatory tone.

“Of course I am,” You replied through muted laughs. “I’m sorry. I would help, but I’m afraid I’d only make it worse.” To emphasize your point, you shook your hands slightly, blue crystals of snow whirling about.

Seonghwa’s fiery eyes seemed to soften at this. He pushed himself up to his feet, now shivering so harshly that you could hear his teeth chatter. You’d only known this Flamer for less than two days and yet he’d already managed to tug at your heartstrings.

“You should go back and get warm. I’ve read about Flamers and their immune systems… you guys are absolute babies when it comes to the cold.” Out of instinct, you reached out to touch his arm, like you did to most sick patients. But of course, you paused just before the tips of your fingers brushed against his jacket, curled your hand into a palm and forced it back down to your side. “I wouldn’t want you getting a fever just to see an ordinary Icer.”

Seonghwa cracked a half of a smile, shaking his head in disbelief.

But when he spun on his heel to leave, you called out before you could stop yourself, “Will I ever see you again, Seonghwa?” He stopped in his tracks without turning to looking at you. Stomach coiling into a tight knot of tension, you awaited in the palpable silence, a heavy lump forming in your throat.

“Next time, let’s go somewhere a bit warmer, yeah? Meet me closer to Flamer territory, by the river next to the largest tree in the Grey Forest. If you get to see me shiver, I get to see you sweat, Icer.” And then he continued on his way, until his lithe form disappeared behind the misty haze and the frosted shrubbery.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Just what were you thinking, agreeing to meet with a Flamer? Were you always this stupid or had you just realized now? You couldn’t believe you were spending your free time with some random Flamer from the Fire Tribe.

Thoughts of doubt swirled about in your head as you wove your way through the Grey Forest. The low rumbling of the river had you gulping down a large lump in your throat. It was already far too warm for you liking, the little snowflakes that buzzed around your head slowly melting away in water droplets. You didn’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before; not even back when you performed your first major surgery. There was just something about Seonghwa that you couldn’t stay away from… like when your Nan used to tell you no sugar candies before bed, it only made you crave for them all the more.

By the time you spotted Seonghwa leaning against the large tree, you were panting heavily, perspiration marring your skin.

“Fancy seeing you here,” The Flamer chimed, seeming to be in a much better mood now that the tables have turned. He seemed quite at ease, not a bead of sweat to be seen. “Already worked up quite a sweat, have we?”

Pathetically, you lifted your arm to conjure a small snowball, proceeding to press it against your head for cool relief. It quickly melted into a slushy of ice and water, dripping down your hair. You frowned, while Seonghwa grinned in return.

“Not so fun, is it?” He teased while you kicked off your boots and dipped your feet into the river, moaning in relief at the slightly cooler temperature of the water. You wished to make it colder, but much to your disappointment, the water wouldn’t crystalize because of how quickly it was rushing by.

Seonghwa crouched next to you, but still kept a decent length away, picking up rocks to skip across the river. For that, you were grateful, because if he made you any warmer than you were at that moment, you would’ve gotten up and stormed back to Icer lands.

“The first time we met,” You started after flicking water onto your face to cool down, making Seonghwa glance at you with curious eyes. “You were telling me to go back to my territory. But now, you made me come closer to Flamer lands. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly. “You’re just… not what I thought an Icer would be like. It made me curious.”

“And what did you think we’d be like?”

A small shrug lifted his shoulder, “Cold. I mean, not that you aren’t, but cold as in… your hearts would be frozen over as well. I grew up with stories of Icers freezing Flamers to death and placing them in their gardens as statues. But you don’t seem like you’d do that kind of stuff. Especially when you told me that you were a healer.”

“For me, everybody knew the story of how the Fire Tribe would lock the Icers they captured in a sealed room, and the snow they made would melt and they’d slowly watch as the room filled with water, unable to turn it into ice because it was too damn hot. And eventually… they’d drown.” At the last few words, you frosted over your fingers and dunked them beneath the waters’ surface.

Seonghwa’s horrified expression made you chuckle slightly.

“Well, for the record, we don’t do that. We aren’t barbarians.” His words were said huffily as he crossed his arms and turned fully to fix his rapt gaze on you.

“I know. It was merely a silly childhood legend.”

The hours dribbled away fairly quickly, you and Seonghwa exchanging tales of your childhood that only increased in absurdity the farther you recounted. He told you about his friend, San, and how they once snuck into Wind Tribe territory to steal rare Gustberries that only grew in the harsh fields of the Breezers. You told him of Hongjoong and Wooyoung, the former being your closest friend and the latter constantly getting himself hurt. Laughs and giggles and the quiet hum of the river filled the silences in between the gaps of your vivid conversations. The more time you spent talking with him, the more you found yourself growing fond of the fiery-eyed man. Who would’ve thought?

By the time the sun had already set, you and Seonghwa were sitting much closer than when you had first sat down, his heat pulsating through the air in waves. To be honest, you didn’t quite mind the subtle warmth after you got used to the initial shock, but you knew you were pushing your limits. An Icer shouldn’t be out in high temperatures for this long.

You pushed yourself up to your feet, head swimming dizzily as you sucked in lungfuls of air. Slightly concerned, Seonghwa reached out to help you find your feet, but he pulled away at the last moment, just as you had last night. The tables really have turned, you thought in mild amusement.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine…” You swayed on your feet slightly, pressing your cooler palm against your warmer-than-usual forehead.

“Come on, let’s get you back to the cold. You guys are absolute babies when it comes to the heat.” He said, mimicking the same exact words you told him yesterday. A weak laugh slipped past your lips, as you leaned against a tree branch.

Oh, everything was just too hot. You’ve been out of the snow for too long…

All of a sudden, the world was flipped onto its side, damp grass pressing against your face. You could barely register Seonghwa startled yelp before everything went dark.

“Hey. Icer, are you okay? Icer! Y/N, come on, I put you back in the snow, I don’t know what else to do.”

Though your head pounded as though someone had whacked you with a tree branch, you could just barely make out Seonghwa’s concerned tone. When your eyelids fluttered open, you were met with the sight of the Flamer’s handsome, yet alarmed face.

“You okay?” His words came gentle and soothing.

Puffing out a small sigh, you nodded tiredly. Being back in the snow felt much better, “Yeah. Thank you,” You croaked out sheepishly.

Seonghwa beamed down at you, before shuffling away so as the snow around you wouldn’t melt. But just as soon as the smile graced his features, it quickly dissipated into a frown, “Don’t scare me like that,” He practically scolded. “You win, okay? Next time we can stay in the snow.”

Breath caught in your throat, a heavy blush laid over your cheeks, “Next time? You just can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“No, I suppose not,” Seonghwa said somewhat nonchalantly, shocking you.

“I… well, thank you for the, well… uhm, getting me back,” You stumbled over your words the longer Seonghwa stared. Oh, what was this man doing to you? “I have some… healer things I need to do… so, I best get going… erm -” Without another thought, you pushed yourself onto your knees, snow crunching underneath your breeches as you leaned over towards him.

He was so warm. His face, especially, once you brushed your far-cooler lips against his cheekbone. The Flamer reared back with a ridiculous, startled expression, eyes comically wide. One of his hands came up to clamp against the cheek you kissed, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out.

“It was really nice talking to you. Thank you again,” You murmured while hiding a grin behind your palm. With that, you turned on your heel and left the blushing Flamer alone in the snow.

From then on, you saw Seonghwa practically every day. Oftentimes, you’d meet in the snow and stroll through the Grey Forest until it got far too warm and the both of you would have to turn back. The moment he’d see your skin dampen with sweat, he’d have the two of you abruptly changing course, steering away from the heat of the Fire Tribe. You thought that was incredibly thoughtful of him.

Once, Seonghwa discovered a more shallower part of the river that you could actually crystalize to keep yourself cool. That day was a good day. You had gently taken his scorching hand and tried to help him run across the ice before his heat could melt it away. The two of you left soaking wet, boisterous grins painted across your lips.

Hongjoong, being your closest friend and all, was constantly questioning and badgering on about where you went every afternoon. After all, you were a healer and your tribe needed you. But, however selfish it was, you didn’t want to stop seeing Seonghwa… he made you feel things no person from the Ice Tribe had ever made you feel.

The more you saw him, the more you had the urge to yank his stupidly sharp jawline towards you and shove your lips onto his. You’d imagine the way the warmth radiating off his skin would feel underneath your frigid palms and lips. You thought back to the second-long cheek kiss you gave him a couple months back, a fond smile tickling at the corner of your mouth.

“What’re you thinking about?” Seonghwa asked from beside you, nudging you slightly. Over a long course of time, the pair of you grew more and more comfortable with one another, inching closer and closer with each meet-up. At this point, you were practically sitting on top of him, one of his legs intertwined with yours and your head laying on his shoulder, the both of you leaning against a frosted tree trunk. Seonghwa smelled of sweet, burning sugar with a heavier scent of roasted coffee beans. He also often complained about how cold you were, although his tone was always fairly light and lacked any true bite.

“Nothing,” You were quick to say, pulling your head away from his shoulder to peer up at him.

Shrugging off your strange attitude, Seonghwa glanced down at you with excited eyes, “You wanna see a new trick I learned?”

Without awaiting your answer (because he knew you’d say yes anyway), Seonghwa cupped his hands together and pulled them away to produce a thin orange flame morphed into the shape of a shooting arrow. You watched in rapt fascination as the fire-arrow spun in the air when Seonghwa whistled sharply. Then, he pushed it away to embed itself into the tree across from you. The tree’s dry bark was quick to catch aflame, but you flicked your hands and caged in the fire with frost, the orange dying out into the blackened wood.

“Learned that during archery,” Seonghwa beamed down at your bemused expression. “You know, only the best Flamers can morph their fires into shapes. It takes a lot of concentration.”

With no effort at all, you twirled your fingers to make an intricate rabbit out of ice, whiskers and fur and all, holding it out to Seonghwa with a minuscule smile. The Flamer scowled slightly, and touched the tip of his finger to the clear crystal, watching it dribble into liquid through the gaps of your palms.

You rolled your eyes to the side before leaning your head back onto his shoulder with a content sigh, “Don’t you compete with me, Park Seonghwa. You’ll never win.”

Much to your surprise, he didn’t bother to argue, and instead pressed his warm nose into your frosty hair, humming, “Yeah, yeah. And who was the one that fainted in the heat again?”

“If I recall correctly, you’ve caught more than three colds just this year! And it’s only the fifth moon, too!”

His hands suddenly darted out to tickle your midriff, to which you squirmed away with a smothered laugh.

“Hm, wanna put it to the test? I promise I’ll go easy,” You said teasingly once you managed to capture his wrists. You could feel his pulse rapidly thumping against the pad of your thumb.

“I don’t know… I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me, you’re not the one that’ll be hurting.”

“Oh, you’re on, Icer.”

The two of you stumbled onto your feet and you held yourself up in a defensive stance. With a faint smile, Seonghwa mimicked your position. Admittedly, it wasn’t a very fair fight; you were a healer and he was a well-trained fighter.

But nonetheless, you were the first to throw, a frozen ball of ice the size of your fist hurtled towards him at top speed. Seonghwa was quick to react, blasting the ice with orange flames until it melted mid-air. You frowned and lithely dodged behind a tree when he reconjured his fire arrows and sent them after you. In retaliation, you quickly brought up a thick ice barrier with a laugh, smothering the thin lines of fire away with the sole of your boots.

The air was chock-full of his crackling flames muted by your snow, crystalline icicles dripping from nearby tree branches, and lame taunts tossed back and forth by the both of you as you play-fought for another couple of minutes.

Seonghwa might’ve had the upper hand in combat, but you knew how to play dirty. Just as he was stepping forward, you sent a sheet of slippery ice to slide underneath his boots. With a bewildered expression, Seonghwa flailed about for a moment, the small fire he prepared in his palm dying down to glowing embers, before tumbling down into the snow.

“That was low, Y/N,” The Flamer huffed out whilst trying to catch his breath against the pale white mound of snowflakes, glaring at you with playfully narrowed eyes. You were glad to see that he wasn’t actually angry at you.

“Do you call defeat, Seonghwa? There’s no shame in admitting it, you know!” Your jaunts were light-hearted as you walked closer to him and Seonghwa found himself grinning despite the cold stinging his skin.

Sticking your hand out to help him up, Seonghwa eyed you for a moment with an indiscernible expression, his playful nature fading away into something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Instead of pushing himself up, he suddenly pulled you down with him, a startled shriek leaving your lips and echoing across the Grey Forest. You fell on top of him with a grunt of pain, meeting his glowing amber eyes with your confused ones. During your hazy moment of puzzlement, Seonghwa tugged you closer, his warm palms curled around your forearms gently.

And then, without further warning, he kissed you. This one was nothing like the first kiss you gave him. That one was merely an innocent peck on the cheek. But this one… this one held passion and furtive desire and yearning. The both of you most definitely wanted this, it was quite clear by now.

Your senses were overwhelmed in the best way possible. All you could smell was him, the heavy undertone of roasted coffee beans sending your head into a cloudy daze. Your lips were slanted against his hot ones, noses of starkly opposite temperatures bumping against one another in your moment of desperation. You weren’t sure where to place your hands, so you balled them up against his jacket, just close enough to feel the hardness of his chest underneath.

For you, everything was hot, searing with a need for more as his plump, warm lips laid over yours. For him, however, everything was cold. The snow beneath was a mild annoyance, and yet he was willing to bear through it for you. You were equally freezing, but Seonghwa welcomed the cold for once, a dangerous ache that would grow to be lethal if neither of you were careful.

A small, frosty sigh left you when he pulled away for a second to stare at you with those intense eyes of his. You stared back with part-confusion and part-longing, lips agape. That apparently set something off in him, because he sat up with you straddling his hips, hands now encircled around your midriff as he kissed you more passionately, leaning forward so your back arched into him.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Why were you feeling these emotions for a Flamer of all people? Why couldn’t you have just stayed within your own tribe? Turmoil churned about in you as you kissed him in somewhat of a frantic manner. You hated yourself for loving it so much.

The second time he pulled away, you were both gasping for breath, lips swollen and clothes rumpled and askew. You could tell he wanted to kiss you again, and probably a thousand times after that. To be frank, that was all you wanted as well.

But you knew this had to stop. And so, when he leaned forward to capture your lips with his again, you flinched none-too-subtly and slid off his lap. An expression of genuine hurt flickered across his handsome, reddened features. A twinge of guilt gnawed away at your stomach as you got up onto your shaky feet.

“Go home, Seonghwa,” Was all you could find yourself saying with a hoarse voice. “You’re going to catch a cold again.”

You couldn’t look at him anymore. And so, you left him laying crestfallen in the snow, hurriedly making your way back to Icer lands, small blue snowflakes trailing behind you and cold tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

The next day, Seonghwa didn’t show up. You waited by your usual meet-up place, gnawing on your lip anxiously, glancing every which way in hopes of seeing the raven-headed Flamer. In the midst of your worrying turmoil, more and more snowflakes emanated from your skin and it didn’t take long for them to accumulate by your feet, completely covering your boots in a pristilline white blanket. You stepped out of the feather-soft pile, opting to impatiently trudge about in an attempt to steel your nerves.

You hadn’t been able to sleep that night. Seonghwa’s heartbroken expression was imprinted into your mind, leaving you in a mess of guilt and regret and anger.

Why did you have to push him away? Seonghwa, your first non-Icer friend, shoved away as if he meant nothing. You released a frustrated groan, smacking your palm into your forehead.

It made sense that he didn’t want to see you. If you were in his shoes, you probably wouldn’t leave your room and have the light of day touch your face for a whole moon. The idea of Seonghwa upset just didn’t sit right with you. Nonetheless, you could do little else than bide your time for him, however much you hated waiting.

He didn’t show up the next day either. Nor the one after that.

By the fourth day of waiting, you started to feel twinges of discouragement, but you never gave up, determined to set things right with Seonghwa. The niggling thought of him never showing up was one that often pestered you while you patiently awaited his return, although always quickly shoved down into the corner of your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you would do if you never saw him again.

It took just over a week of waiting for him to come back. At that point, you hadn’t thought he’d come back at all, reluctantly accepting that you’ve ultimately ruined your friendship with Seonghwa.

And so, imagine your surprise when his voice rang out through the trees, your name rolling off his tongue smoothly, “Y/N.”

Startled, you flinched so hard that your head hit a branch that hung lowly on the icy tree you were sitting beneath. It reminded you so much of the first time you met him that you couldn’t help but crack a smile after your initial pained grimace.

“Seonghwa,” You gasped, eyes round with shock and mouth agape. “You’re… you’re back!”

The excitement in your voice didn’t go undetected by either of you, but his features were set in stone, unmoving and neutral. Those blazing eyes of his seemed to bore holes into you, and you felt strangely naked underneath his gaze. You noticed that his appearance was more disheveled than ever, eyebags dark and hair not neatly slicked back like usual. He looked broken, but far too proud to admit so.

“Seonghwa…?” You stepped closer, the frosted leafy foliage crumbling under the pressure. This man was someone you deeply cared about, and you knew he felt the same about you.

So why was he staring at you like you meant nothing to him?

A shiver ran down your spine, a sensation that only Seonghwa could bestow upon you. Which was ironic, because the cold feeling that tickled down your spine was ignited by a man with powers of fire and heat.

You and him didn’t belong together. That was clear as day by now.

“Seonghwa,” You mumbled again, reaching out to him once close enough.

He shut his eyes as if looking at you were torture. It stung more than you liked to admit, so you retracted your fingers, clenching them into a fist and dropping them back by your side awkwardly. The air was so tense, so utterly uncomfortable, you could feel the crack in your heart splinter into more branches.

“Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” Your bottom lip trembled. This wasn’t the Seonghwa you’ve grown to be so fond of. This man scared you. You had half a mind to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense back into him. Where did your Seonghwa go?

An angry huff escaped his lips, misting visibly out of his carmine lips. The very ones you kissed a little over a week ago.

“You can’t… just… don’t say my name. Please. We can’t be like that anymore. We can’t do this. We can’t keep seeing each other.” Seonghwa’s stoic mask disintegrated into raw emotion. He looked to be on the verge of tears, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you mirrored the same exact expression.

There was a part of you that wanted to yell and scream and throw sharp icicles at him until he had no choice but to run back to Flamer territory. Anywhere, as long as it was far away from you. The other, more rational part of you, whispered that he was right. After all, you were the one that pushed him away first. It was only fair.

A broken bone won’t heal if you keep putting pressure on the wound. Being a healer, you couldn’t just ignore your own teachings.

But for just once in your life, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to hold Seonghwa tightly in your grasp, no matter how dangerous it was. You wanted to call him yours, and you wanted to be his. You wanted to kiss him again, despite the small action being the ultimate downfall for the both of you.

And so you found yourself croaking out, making sure to emphasize his name, “Seonghwa, you know just as much as I do that there’s something here between us. You can’t just ignore it and toss that all out the window!”

His face screwed up in an effort to keep the onslaught of tears at bay. Perhaps what he felt for you wasn’t yet as strong as what he’d call love, but he wasn’t very far from it. He cared too much for you, so much more than anybody else in his life.

He needed you. And because of that, he had to let you go. Fraternizing with the enemy wasn’t something to be taken lightly. If his tribe knew about this little escapade of his, they’d have his head and would finally have a good enough reason to declare war. Regardless, it was only a matter of time. The Fire Tribe has hated Icers for centuries and centuries, teetering on the brink between neutrality and complete bloodshed.

“We have no choice,” The words were said in a low tone, rumbling deep down in his chest. Seonghwa shuffled closer, so close that you could feel his familiar heat wavering against the ice once again. You longed to reach out and place your hand on his chest, feel his heart thumping against his ribcage frantically, just as yours was. “Do you know what they’d do to you - to us - if our tribes found us together? It’s too risky, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

“I’m a healer. I can take care of myself! And we can just stay careful like we always have. Besides, people rarely come into the Grey Forest anymore!” Your words came out fast and jittery and panicked. You thought that you had already come to terms with losing the man that stood in front of you, but you were far from acceptance, you knew that now.

Seonghwa carded a pale hand through dark strands of hair, “I’m sorry, were you not the one that told me to go back home? You started this. You wanted this!” He was so agitated that when he swung his arm back to his side, small crackles of fire lit up his fingers.

Something inside you snapped, “I most definitely did not! It was just… all too sudden and I needed time to think. Now that I’ve already thought, there’s no need for us to run away and never see each other again! You’re overexaggerating, Seonghwa.”

“No, you don’t get it. Don’t you know, Y/N? Our tribes are verging on war. We’re supposed to be enemies, you and I. Don’t be daft!” His voice raised a notch or two louder, and you found yourself shrinking into yourself.

Tears pricked your eyes and you looked away from his fierce gaze, “We don’t have to be a part of that. We can just -”

“Just what? Pretend? We can’t play picnic in the forest and act like our people aren’t planning to slaughter each other!”

“You know what?” You shouted so loudly that the birds nesting on treetops fluttered away, a mass of dark wings and agitated squawks. “If you want to walk away from this relationship, from me, then go ahead! I won’t stop you. Fuck you, Seonghwa. Fuck you for throwing this away the moment it became something more.”

“You were the first to push away!” He protested, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“Well, I’m sorry!” You cried out, furiously swiping away the tears that dribbled down your cheeks. “I’m sorry I was scared! I’m willing to try again, but you’re not giving me the chance. I waited for you every day, you know.”

“I know. I saw,” He said, suddenly quiet. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

The two of you stared at each other defiantly, heavy breaths misting the air in front of you. His nose was tinted a deep pink, no doubt because of the cold.

“I’m leaving,” Seonghwa said after a long while. “And you shouldn’t come back here. Ever. I need you to know, Y/N. I’m doing this because I care about you. I expect you to do the same for me.”

Then, after casting you a forlorn expression, he tore his blazing eyes away and stiffly swiveled around in the snow. A gust of wind tousled his hair and he blew out a sigh of pale white mist. The cold made his nose red, and you subconsciously noticed the way he shivered slightly, brushing snowflakes off his sleeve. You’d miss that.

You’d miss him.

His heat grew fainter as his long strides took him further away from you. Your tears had crystallized on your cheeks uncomfortably, a frozen reminder of what you’d lost. You had half the mind to storm right up to Seonghwa and force him to stay here, by your side. That was the child speaking within you, however, and you were no longer a child.

Flicking the solidified salt water on your cheeks away, you did just the same as Seonghwa had minutes ago, trudging your way back to Icer lands. Little did either of you know, the two of you cried fresh tears along the whole journey back.

The last time you ever stepped foot in the Grey Forest was just the day after. Your eyes were puffy and aching, hair a terrible mess, and a wax-sealed envelope was tightly clutched in your hand.

There was a chance that Seonghwa would never come back. In fact, it was most probable that he’d never get the precariously written letter you left by the usual meeting place, considering what he told you yesterday.

Fond memories sunk its sharpened claws into you, stealing away your breath as you cupped both hands over your mouth, overwhelmed in every way possible. You were far too drained to cry, having emptied away all your tears the day before.

And so, you brushed stray snowflakes off the periwinkle-hued wax stamp, placing it down by the tree stump where Seonghwa usually sat.

Then you muttered a quiet, broken goodbye, stomping back to Icer lands. You were never going to see Seonghwa again.

Dear Seonghwa,

I know you told me to never come back. I won’t, I promise. I just wanted to leave the letter because… we never properly got to say goodbye, did we?

Well, congrats, you big dummy. You’re right. You always were, and you always are. We were never supposed to be friends. I mean, I suppose we’re enemies now, aren’t we? It was quite the foolish fantasy we had going on there, huh? I get it, we have to stay loyal to our respective tribes, we can’t risk getting caught, so on so forth. I just hope that when war is declared (which doesn’t seem to be long from now, to be quite honest), I won’t see you on the battlefield. I don’t think I’d be able to handle that.

So, I guess this is goodbye. It’s a little hard to believe that I won’t ever get to see your stupid face again. Remember when I threw a snowball at you so hard that it broke your nose? You panicked and blood went splattering everywhere and it didn’t stop until I got you to calm down. For a highly-ranked Flamer soldier, I’d expect you to be less squeamish at the sight of your own blood. It’s alright, though. As a healer myself, blood still freaks me out just a bit.

I thought I ruined your pretty face for all the poor ladies and gents who were mad in love with you back at the Flame Tribe, and I felt so guilty. And then you smiled! I remember feeling envy and astonishment at the same time because how the hell could one look pretty while smiling through a broken, bloody nose?

I’m glad I didn’t ruin your face, though. You’d probably get really mad at me if I did. But you would’ve forgiven me eventually, right?

Frankly, I don’t know if I deserve your forgiveness for what I did. And no, I’m not talking about hurting your precious face (they say a once-broken nose makes a man more attractive!). I’m sorry for pushing you away, Seonghwa. Really, I don’t know what I was thinking. I was scared and I needed time to think. I hope you understand that. If you don’t, that’s okay as well.

If I could rewind time, I wouldn’t have stopped kissing you. I could’ve carried on for days and days and days on end. Did you know that you’re the second person I’ve ever kissed? Don’t ask about the first, drunk Wooyoung isn’t really something to brag about. Well, for the record, you were the first kiss I actually enjoyed. Congrats.

Of course, all this doesn’t mean that it was entirely my fault. I waited for you for a week, and you did nothing but hide behind trees and watch. That was real shitty of you, to put it plainly.

I’ll miss you, though. I’ve never felt this way about any Icer and I doubt I ever will. Of all people to set my sights on, it just had to be a Flamer. What rotten luck we have.

Goodbye forever, Seonghwa. Stay safe, alright? For my sake.

With much love,

Y/N.

Seonghwa read the letter through so quickly that his pupils seemed to be moving at lightning speed. Then, with a numbed heart, he read it a second time, this time much slower.

By the third time he reread each of your carefully handwritten words, warm tears of salt water were running over his cheeks. His face had grown considerably hotter, the salty liquid steaming misty tendrils against his skin. He was angry. So, so ridiculously angry. At himself, at this stupid rivalry between the tribes, at you for being so goddamn perfect. Of course you’d managed to squeeze in jaunts and jokes in a farewell note.

There was a part of him that wished he’d never come back to the Grey Forest and found the letter. Fat droplets of his tears trickled down his jaw and soaked through the parchment, marring the intricate ink characters. With a gentle sigh, Seonghwa brushed the dampness away and stiffly flicked his wrist.

The letter burst into glowing orange flames. And Seonghwa watched on, stifling down the urge to break down into a fit of chest-wracking sobs, until your goodbye was nothing but a measly pile of blackened ashes on his palm.

#ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez #park seonghwa #ateez smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez x you #ateez fanfiction #ateez seonghwa #ateez fantasy au #ateez imagines #ateez angst #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa x you #ateez fanfics

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Heart-Shaped Box💟9/End

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), forced pregnancy, some violence, intimidation, some elements untagged for sake of plot.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Sister Series: Get Your Fix

Summary: You accept a job as an au pair, but not all is as it seems.

Note: Finally finishing this one up. Sorry it took me ages but I’m doing my best to go back and wrap up whatever I can.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Masterlist

Bucky pulled out of you as he held your head down, bouncing the bed beneath you as he pushed himself onto his back. You panted as your sweat dampened the sheet beneath you and he leaked between your thighs. You winced as you rolled onto your side and slowly sat up.

He had you whining loud enough that you had no doubt your guests heard it all. It only seemed to encourage his partner-in-crime as you soon heard a similar scene on the other side of the wall. You were sickened by that noise and stood warily as you cupped your hand over your cunt and scooped up his cum before it could drip onto the floor.

“I told you to keep it down,” he snickered and sat up, his muscled back to you as he stretched his arms above him, “get the shower started, I’ll be in shortly. You girls have a lot of work to do today.”

You grumbled and dragged your feet to the attached bathroom. The low buzz of the pipes filled the silence and you stepped under the steamy water. The moment of calm broke sharply as Bucky appeared from the other side of the curtain and stepped in behind you. He had you clean him with a lathered loofah and you bore it only for the eventuality of time away from him.

The other woman meant you wouldn’t be trapped with just him. It was little help or hope but it was better than your former solitary torture.

You dressed in black dress with daisies and made yourself look like his perfect housewife. You couldn’t hold the smile and make him believe it all the way but he wouldn’t anyway. He flicked your chin and clicked his tongue.

“Mmm, you’re getting there,” he mused as he dropped his hand and reached around to slap your ass, “better go get breakfast on. I’ll check in on our guests.” He squeezed and winked, “be a good girl.”

Those words made your insides curdled but you swallowed your disgust and nodded, “yes, sir.”

He stepped out behind you and watched you go down the hall to the stairs and you heard him knock on the door as you descended. You went to the kitchen and pulled out the frying pan and the coconut oil. You lined up the ingredients for crepes on the counter and took two bananas from the yellow bunch. Your mother used to make the oversweet delicacy and you needed a reminder that you were still that girl.

You stopped as you searched for something to keep the crepes warm after you assembled them, a lid that could fit over the plate or something akin to it. The lower cupboards you rarely opened. Bucky left the cleaning supplies on the counter with your chore list every day and you never bothered to look for anything else.

You stopped and stared at the drain cleaner and the can of toxic oven spray. Well, that wouldn’t be subtle enough, would it? They’d smell either of those a mile away. Anything under the counter would be easily discovered but it did give you an idea.

You closed the wooden door and went back to your task. You heard the voices in the next room and the scrape of the chairs on the floor. Steve’s girl appeared in the doorway, rubbing her stomach as her face contorted.

“Smells sweet,” she said as you simmered the bananas with brown sugar, cinnamon, and a little butter, “almost too sweet.”

“Morning sickness?” you asked innocently.

“All the time sickness,” she sighed, “anything I can help with?”

“Do you know how to make crepes?” you asked as you whisked the batter.

“Not really,” she shrugged, “but I can learn.”

“It’s easy. Takes less than a minute,” you waved her over and tested the temperature of the pan with a flick of water, “so you wanna put just a little batter in…” you ladled in a careful dollop and lifted the pan, “you spread it like this,” you tilted it so the batter spread all around, “you just use the spatula a little on the edges to make sure they don’t stick and you flip.”

It was like second nature and she nodded quietly as she watched. The crepe cooked quickly and you threw it onto a plate and put the pan back to the burner.

“You think you can handle that?” you covered the plate with the lid of a pat to keep it warm. “Then we put some of the bananas and wrap them, bit of cream on top and some icing sugar…”

“You like to cook?” she wondered as she added batter to the hot pan.

“Not particularly, but my mother taught me,” you shrugged, “she can cook anything.”

“Oh,” she flipped the crepe and glanced at the door, “I suppose… it keeps him happy.”

“He’s never happy,” you murmured and cleared your throat, “so, you must be excited to move in!”

“I guess,” she slid the crepe onto the plate as you lifted the foggy lid, “you know how it is.”

You smiled and she tilted her head as she squinted at you. You went to the drawer where there was a box of blank recipe cards and continued speaking as you fished out a pencil from another.

“It’s always nice to get settled,” you said as you wrote, ‘they can hear us’.

“I suppose, nice to be in one place,” she replied stiffly as her features relaxed.

‘I have a plan,’ you wrote and raised your voice just slightly, “oh, you know, we didn’t even get you a housewarming gift. I’ll have to remind James.”

You went to the burner and held out the card under the coil until it caught. You threw it into the sink and watched it burn and curl. You ran water over it as it turned to ash and washed it away. You nudged the bowl towards her and leaned on the counter, “need help with that?”

“No,” she said as she started again, “I’m getting the hang of it.”

💟

You looked around the front room of the house next door. Steve’s girl opened one of the stacked boxes. For once, the men were gone and you could just enjoy their absence.

Bucky agreed that a gift was in order and Steve had mentioned wanting to explore their new hometown. You tried not to seem eager but even the small walk across the lawns enlivened you. How long had it been since you’d been outside?

You started with the pictures. You left the frames in a stack as she assured you Steve would put the nails in and hang them. Then you moved onto the kitchenware and you kept her from lifting the heavy box of dishes. She seemed to forget about her condition and the reminder made her frown.

You stood behind the counter and set the dishes in the cupboards one at a time, the plates clacking one on top of each other. She watched from the other side as she arranged the silverware in the plastic tray.

“Can you do me a favour?” you asked as you kept on.

“What?” she asked as she dropped a butter knife with the rest.

“I know they’ve locked us in but can you check the garage door? Can we get in there?” you asked evenly.

“What?” she blinked and pushed herself straight, “even if we can, they won’t have been stupid enough--”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I know we can’t get out that way either. It’s the same at our house. Everything is bolted up tight.” You assured her, “just go and check while I get these sorted.”

She left you and you snapped shut the door and finished with the utensils. You slid the tray into the drawer as she returned, rubbing her stomach.

“Yeah, we can get in but it’s mostly empty,” she said, “so…”

“Mostly empty?”

“Yeah, just the car--”

“The car,” you rounded the counter and curled two fingers for her to follow you.

You headed for the plain white door that led to the garage. You hopped down the steps as she remained at the top and watched you tentatively. You went to the car as she crossed her arms.

“He took the keys,” she said.

You tried the handle and the door opened. “I know,” you said as you put a knee in the front seat and peered into the back. Nothing.

You felt around under the dash and found the lever for the trunk. You pulled it and it popped. You shut the door and went around the back of the car. You felt around the spare tire and your hand felt something plastic. You grabbed the handle of the half-filled jug and pulled it out.

“Hey,” you held up the bright blue anti-freeze, “do you wanna cook dinner here tonight? A housewarming dinner?”

Her brows knitted and she gave a long blink. Her lips parted then curved.

“You can’t mean--” she let out a scoff.

“It’s sweet. Hopefully they won’t notice if I add enough sugar to the cake,” you breathed, “we can’t let them settle. This is our chance.”

“I don’t-- I don’t know. What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’re still in the same boat,” you turned your free hand out, “that man has drugged me for months. I think it’s only fair that he gets a taste of his own medicine.”

She swallowed and looked down at her stomach. She inhaled and cradled her bump. “It can’t get worse than this, can it?”

💟

You spent the day unpacking, the distraction not much of one as you thought of the bottle you hid at the back of the cupboard. By the time the men returned, you were ready to move onto the second floor.

Bucky offered a bottle of non-alcoholic wine and basket of expensive macarons as your gift to your new neighbours. He forced a kiss from you before he let you follow Steve’s girl upstairs.

You sat in the bedroom and heard the men ascend shortly after. You peeked in on them as you opened the linen closet to shove in the spare sheets. They were hammering together a crib. You knocked lightly on the doorframe as you watched them.

“Huh, what’s going on?” Bucky looked up from the directions.

“Um, we were just… thinking, we could have dinner here tonight? A little housewarmer? I could grab some ingredients from ours--”

“Give me a list, I’ll grab it,” Bucky puffed as he bent to help hold the rail in place for Steve, “that sound okay?”

“Fine by me,” Steve smiled, “it’ll be nice to have our feet on solid ground.”

You left them and returned to your only ally as she sat on the bed and stared at a packet of pills. She crushed it in her grasp and huffed. She flicked away tears with her knuckles. She tossed them over her shoulder.

“He kept them,” she snarled, “it’s like he’s mocking me.”

“What?” you neared her and sat carefully beside her.

“I never… I worked with him, you know? He brought me these drinks and I didn’t realise he was dosing them. The stuff, it made me itchy… it made me so hot and I just needed anything. I hopped on him I was so desperate and-- I told him to stay away. I realised what he’d done and I told him to leave me alone and you know what he did,” she crossed her arms over her stomach.

“No, I--” you touched her elbow.

“He broke into my apartment and replaced my pills. And he didn’t leave me alone,” she spat, “he did this all and he still has the goddamn pills like they’re some sort of trophy.”

She hung her head and grunted in frustration. You leaned against her and put your arm over her shoulders. She let you and the tension drained from her body.

“Even if we get out…” she whispered, “I’ll always have this piece of him.”

She pressed her palms to her stomach and you frowned. There was nothing you could do or say. You’d been lucky so far, even if it only fed your suffering. You didn’t have another life to worry about.

“We don’t have to if--”

“I want to,” she hissed lowly, “I want him dead.”

💟

Usually, you tasted the icing and licked the spoon. Not that night. The blue shade of the frosting was anything but suspicious as you spread it over the fluffy cake. It was a perfect disguise. You topped it with blueberries to add to the theme and dusted on a few coloured sprinkles. You stood back and admired your work as the smell of garlic filled the kitchen.

“I know it’s not much,” Steve’s girl said as she stirred the sauce, “but it’s what I can manage.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you said as you took the meatballs of the burner and tested the spaghetti, “noodles are perfect.”

You strained the pasta and helped pour the meatballs into the sauce. You mixed it up and poured it into a large glass dish and the noodles into another. You brought them out to the table and called the men to dinner before you fetched the wine, both alcoholic and not.

Steve’s girl sat as you poured a glass for each of you and the men sat. You set the bottle down and nestled in next to Bucky as he served himself. When the plates were full, the other woman nudged Steve and whispered in his ear.

He cleared his throat and stood, “um, I know it’s just us but I guess I should say thank you for all the help and we’re excited to be neighbours… can’t wait for the kids to be running around these halls together.”

“Mmm,” Bucky lifted his glass, “hopefully…” he muttered doubtfully and looked at you, “that better be what she’s having,” he nodded to your glass.

You held it out for him to sniff and he gave you a sour look. He tutted and sat back to twirl noodles around his fork as he set aside his glass. You took a sip of the gutless wine and speared a meatball on your tines. You chewed and looked at Steve’s girl. She let Steve rub her thigh under the table and forced a smile.

She was playing it well and you felt as if you would fall apart. You felt as if Bucky would see right through you the minute you walked in with the cake. What would he do then? Steve couldn’t hurt his girl, she had the baby, but you, Bucky could replace you still. Maybe that was for the best but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared shitless.

You cleared the plates and retreated to the kitchen. Just you. You’d gone over it, you didn’t want them to catch on. You didn’t get too close with them around, you acted like strangers, you really were after all.

You sliced the cake into careful portions and came out with two plates at a time. You put them in front of each chair and sat. As you did, Steve’s girl covered her mouth and gagged. She pushed herself up unsteadily.

“Honey?” Steve asked as he rubbed her lower back.

“It’s the baby I--” she gulped sickeningly, “I gotta--”

She rushed out and Steve gave a look, “nausea. It’s been like this for weeks.”

“I’m going to make sure she’s okay,” you stood, “go ahead and start without us.”

You went down the hall and as you neared the bathroom, Steve’s girl opened the door and pulled you inside. She looked genuinely sick and you smelled vomit on her breath. She turned and rinsed her mouth and shuddered.

“I didn’t actually feel sick until I got in here,” she wiped her face with the hand cloth, “when I realised--”

“Everything’s in the trunk,” you assured her, “once they’re out, we get the keys and go.”

“How do we know--”

“Retch,” you hissed, “we wait until we’re sure.”

She gave an exaggerated hurl and you heard the clink of porcelain and silver and the drone of voices. You listened through the door as she watched you in the tight space of the half-bath.

“I’m thinking about getting her an… exam,” Bucky’s deep tone carried, “maybe she can’t…”

You let out the breath you were holding and closed your eyes. Just a little longer.

When you heard a sudden lull, your eyes rounded and you turned the handle and let yourself out into the hall. She crept close behind as you peered through the open archway. Both men had their faces on their plates in the crumbs of vanilla cake and smears of blue icing.

“Let’s go,” you went to Steve and shoved your hand into his pocket, “shit, they’re not here.”

“Here!” she pulled her hand from his jacket hung on the rack, “you think they’re dead?”

You looked from one to the other and shakily felt along Steve’s neck. “Still a pulse. I think maybe… they’re only knocked out.”

“The serum,” she shook her head, “means we have to go quick.”

You hurried after her and followed her down into the garage. She climbed into the driver’s seat and moved it back as her stomach pressed to the wheel. You got in the other side as your body trembled with adrenaline. She hit the button attached to the keys and the door slowly raised behind her.

As she reversed, you felt a sudden shock around your neck and yiped. You’d forgotten entirely about the necklace. She stopped suddenly and watched you writhe in agony.

“Shit, shit,” you leaned forward until the shock stopped, “the necklace.”

“Fuck,” she reached for it and you batted her away.

“No, you’ll get zapped,” you gasped as you pulled on it desperately. It was too tight to get past your chin but too strong to snap.

She took the keys out and tossed them in your lap. You lifted them and twisted the necklace around the house key but there was no give. You sobbed and dropped your hand.

“I can’t,” you looked at the bent key, “you gotta go without me.”

“What? No, I can’t--”

“You have a baby,” you said as tears burned in your eyes and your throat tightened, “go, please.” You dropped the keys on the dash and opened the door. “I can’t--”

“No, you have to come with me,” she begged.

“No, you have to go before they wake up,” you got out as you grasped your neck, the searing pain still hot on your flesh, “I’ll… I’ll survive. I have this far.”

“N--”

“Shut up!” you slammed the door and hit the hood, “go!”

She stared at you and her lip quivered. She gave you one last sad look and grabbed the keys. She sniffed as she gripped the wheel and backed out down the drive.

You fell to your knees and sat back on your ass as you watched her drive away. You shook your head and held it in your hands as you sat behind the invisible wall of your prison.

The tires screamed at the end of the street and the noise of the engine faded into the distance. You laid on your back across the concrete and covered your face with your arm. At least you could live with knowing you got her out. Well, you couldn’t really say you’d be living. You’d be alive but little more than that.

But you’d survive knowing that you kept one person from that pitiful fate. Even if it wasn’t you. Even if you knew that you would pay for it in the end. Even when those men woke up and found you laying in the garage, the sweet flavour of antifreeze on their tongues as the bile of their anger overflowed and drowned you.

You couldn’t do anything but wait. If you were lucky, they might just kill you and that in itself would be freedom.

💟 💟 💟

END

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #Heart-Shaped Box #dark fic #dark!fic #series #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america #avengers #steve rogers

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