#It was freezing though and I didn’t bring gloves | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neonovember · 1 year

Note

Hello! I hope you’ve been doing okay! I saw that you had requests open and I also saw that you take requests for Carmen? If it’s totally okay of course to request for him! I got into the bear a few days ago and my brain has been filled with nothing but thoughts of Carmy. Would it be okay just requesting something that’s just Carmen being worried/concerned about the reader? He just always sees whenever there’s that tiredness to them when it looks like it’s a bad day, that slump in their shoulders that all too much reminds him of him a little sometimes, just bringing them into the office and his eyebrows are furrowed with that look of concern and his eyes the same, maybe unexpectedly just wrapping them in a hug (Your writing is so cute btw!) 💕

to carry and to bear

ask, it will be my infinite quest to fulfill! love this request so much and i loved writing is even more. i'm going to be so annoying when s2 comes out, especially since i love carmen's character so much! thank you for your request anon <3

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: richie (yes he’s a warning), unresolved anxiety, horrible customers, fainting

word count: 5k (short for me lmao)

a/n: you know i love a character when i'm completing fics in under a day..lets pray this momentum keeps going

Wrapping yourself tight against the chilly wind of the unforgivable Chicago weather, you watch the city coming alive in the early morning as you walk down the concrete sidewalk of the Beef’s city corner.

Merchants and gazebo have begun to set up shop, their bright red vendor stands a stark contrast to the grey haze of the windy city. Corner stores and cafes have begun to uncover their blinds, dusting away the sliver of droplets that had long since evaporated after a heavy downpour the night before.

it’s slow though.

The mass of cars and yellow cabbed taxis haven’t yet filled the gravel roads, and the surging rush of traffic and uncontrollable road rage the beef windows have been accustomed to viewing hasn't filled the air.

The pinch of cold begins to itch against the cracks in your outerwear. Your trusted winter jacket and gloves had been left at the bottom of your laundry basket and instead you were forced to throw on a flimsy polyester jacket that provided absolutely no warmth.

Your fingers are stuffed into your pocket, trying to hide them from the cold but it is no use. They shake against the freezing air of wind as you push past huddles of men chain smoking and passing coolers of steaming coffee on street corners.

You’re about to go ask for a cup, despite Carmen's disgruntled comments of their huddled group festering near the restaurant. They were a pack of wolves, and whilst Sydney's sandwiches had fended them off for a while, the hole in the Beef’s window was still fresh. Like a cycle, more and more had begun to trickle in from alleyways, leading to customers steering clear from the nearby streets.

Carmen didn’t even like you walking to work this early, you get it, despite being daylight, Chicago had a way of defying social norms. You had paid some attention to the increase in robbing and attacks that had begun to frequent news reports.

It wouldn't have been a problem, walking was always voluntary for you as you had a perfectly fine working car that would drive you to and from your destination with as little as a rumble from its engine. And yet, that seemingly perfect car decided to break down on you this morning, leading to an overheated engine and a smoke filled hood.

So not only did you have to pay for a towing truck to drag away your car to an auto shop you couldn't afford to afford, but you were late. And you hated being late.

Not to mention your sister had called you late last night, asking to stay for a couple nights after her good for nothing boy-friend you would rather call a child had kicked her out after a fight.

She had rambled for nothing short of 2 hours after you had gotten home from the Beef late last night, and the pull of sleep had begun to weigh on you. The exhaustion and deprivation had written itself in the slug of your limbs and the slump of your shoulders.

You had to come in today, there were no rest days even if the Beef wasn't neck deep in debt and Cicero didn't have you all on a leash. Especially if you wouldn't allow yourself one. You had that in common with Carmen, you frequently ignored your own needs for your craft, the same insatiable passion and need for perfection driving you to exhaustion.

The familiar chime of the Beefs wooden doors hit your ears, and you shake off the cold of the city streets, the Beef is warm and you're grateful, sighing as the heat of prepped ovens and oiled pans defrosts your face.

It takes a second before you walk into the busy kitchen when the sound finally reaches you. The screeching sound of Richie's voice bickers with Tina about the next door convenient store being turned into a “pretentious hipster coffee shop that is legally selling dog water to unassuming Chicagoans”.

Dragging on and on about the invasion of gentrification that will soon take out all the good businesses that had been around since his grandfather had come from Sicily. Richie was not from Siciliy. In which Carmen mirrors your thoughts and yells that he is not Italian, and his obsession with the European country has been bordering on creepy.

Ebra is reciting an article about a culinary student that had gone rogue and murdered their entire class, giving pointers on how he himself had to patch up an entire unit of people stabbed by a bent corkscrew. The loud conversations and untethered yelling across the kitchen combines with the malfunctioning arcade that has begun to re-circuit the same sentence for 20 minutes now, digs a deep burrow into your temple.

You stand at the entrance of the kitchen, watching the commotion of early morning prep with a tight grimace, your head begins to vibrate a little, the start of a headache you won’t be relieved from spreading and you have to swallow down the exhaustion that begins to seep in at the sight.

Sydney brushes past you, greeting you with a hello and one of her charming smiles before muttering about throwing that arcade machine out the back. You giggle and it hurts, but you do it anyway because, fuck, you would help her.

You step into the kitchen, and the crew each turn to greet you good morning as you walk past them into the locker bay stuffing your bag and shoes into the cabinet before quickly changing.

Your phone reads 7am and you stuff it into the pocket of your hung jacket before slamming the locker shut. Carmen peeks his head around the corner, nodding at you as you put on your non-slip shoes, calling your name when you don't notice, you flinch before peering up and Carmen waves trying to get your attention.

“Mornin’ chef, didn’t think you were coming in” Carmen remarks, raising his eyebrows as he leans his shoulder against the wall.

“Morning, yeah, sorry about that, uh- shit happened and I had to deal with it all at once. Won;t happen again” You reply, biting back a yawn, before letting your feet fall to the ground.

“It’s all good,” Carmen replies, nodding, wiping his hand on the white towel hanging on his shoulder that was already smudged with stains.

“Just shoot me a text or call next time, yeah?” Carmen replies

“Will do chef” You reply, smiling, before peering out to see Sydney carrying a basket of ingredients

“New recipe?” You ask, nodding towards Sydney, and Carmen nods, running a hand through his curls as he leans forward.

“Well call it trying something. Not yet finished, just needs some minor tweaks here and there” Carmen replies

“I can help Sydney out if you want?” You reply without a second thought.

You already had prep and a marinade you had to make for Cicero’s function he had conveniently told Carmen about the night before, but helping out was second nature to you, it was a part of this family's culture.

Carmen shakes his head, his eyes falling to your slumped shoulder, and the slow but tight blinks you tended to do when you were exhausted.

The second he had peered his head around the corner and saw the slug of your limbs he knew something was up, but he also knew he couldn't force you to relax, you were worse than him, always taking on so much, filling up your cup until it was overflowing.

“No, no, it’s alright, besides, that marinade isn’t going to be easy, I should be asking if you want me to help out” Carmen replies, chuckling, scratching his neck as you curve your mouth into that smile he loves so much. You could be half-dead and he still stares at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen.

“I think I’ve got it handled. I remember having to make something similar back at Le Bleu, you just got to get the temperature right or the entire thing gets spoiled. Having more than one person just makes it more confusing. besides, don't you have that meeting with the vendor today?” You reply, and Carmen sighs, nodding

“Yep, hopefully this place looks stable enough to get him to sign, you know I can’t deal with corporate bullshit. Sydney should’ve met up with them, fuck any one other than me” Carmen replies, shaking his head as he fidgets with the hem of his apron.

Despite his numerous accolades, and world renowned talent, he only ever felt at nature in the kitchen. High function parties and elusive dinner bars were things he despised, feeling out of place despite it being thrown in his name.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you're the face of this place Carmen, you’ve transformed it, you oughta show them the Beef is the best investment they’ll make. Hell you’re the best investment they can make” You reply, and Carmen ears perk at your reply, smiling fondly at your comment. He didn't deserve your praise, and he hated the way the sound of your lips curving around his name shoots through him.

“Are y'all going to get to work or continue eye fucking?” Richie calls, as he passes by the locker bay, and Carmen immediately shakes his head muttering a fuck you before nodding to you, and heading back to his station. You get up from your seated position on the bench, dusting and ironing out the creases in your apron before mentally going over the things you had to complete before opening.

Prep vegetables, then start the veal stock for Cicero's marinade. You had to complete it early, since it had to be chilled for at least 5 hours, any less and the fat would congeal and turn into a complete mess you didn’t have time to fix.

You walk towards your station, stepping over sauce that had spilled onto the tile floors, this crew was amazing in their craft, but god were they messy. You bump shoulders with Sydney as you begin to grate and cut root vegetables and herbs, you have to force your eyes open, blinking several times before dipping your hand into an ice water bucket and wiping your face with it.

Sydney converses with you, and it wasn't that she was boring, in fact you both frequently spend time even out of the restaurant as friends. But you can’t even try to decipher what she says, just sounds coming out of her mouth that you pack away in order to get your job done.

Just cut the vegetables, finish the stock, cut the vegetables, finish the stock, you repeat it like a mantra in your head, unaware at Sydney calling your name. She reaches forward, pressing a soft hand to your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Sydney replies, concern written across her features as she peers at your disoriented state.

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” You reply, avoiding her gaze. You feel her penetrate through you, pitying the exhaustion on your face, probably realising you were a shit chef who couldn't even handle a couple responsibilities.

“I was asking if you could grab me some of the sauce I made yesterday from the storage fridge. You alright? You seem a bit..” Sydney starts, before you cut her off quickly

“Just had a long night, didn't get much sleep” You reply, rubbing your eyes with a hand. What has gotten into you? You weren't foreign to a few sleepless nights and a few too many deadlines you had to meet, hell your entire college and culinary life had been exactly that.

“That’ll kill you, you know” Richie butts in, reaching for a crab cake Sydney had prepared before being swatted away with a wooden spoon.

“What?” You ask, already regretting asking Richie to elaborate on what was clearly some elaborated story he had got stored away

“Go without that good old shut eye a few nights too long and you'll start hallucinating shit, not fucking with you you, don’t you know about the Russian sleep experiment-?” Richie rambles

“Ah here we go” Sydney replies, rolling her eyes

“You think because you went to Paris or whatever prestigious tight ass school you know everything? It’s real, happened right after World War 2, Russians got a bunch of people and just made them not sleep for like months, they starting turning into fuckin' aliens and shit-” Richie continues, ignoring Sydney's sly remarks about Richie's facebook usage.

“Richie c’mon, you know that shits made up” You reply

“Don’t matter, didn’t I tell you about my week long bender during college? Starting seeing my great aunt from the corner of my eye, and I swear she is still there-” Richie replies before getting cut off my Carmen calling his name

“Stop distracting my chefs Cousin”

You chuckle, shaking your head as Richie mutters about the fall of democracy and wipe your hands across your towel.

“I’ll go get your sauce Syd” You reply, and she smiles in gratitude as you turn towards the storage room. The cold air of the fridge wakes you up a little, and you rest your head against the door of the storage fridge, sighing in frustration. Talking to Richie was exhausting in itself, and when you were already running only fumes and second hand smoke you felt like it took the last bit of energy you had left.

You grab the container of sauce written with “DO NOT TOUCH” on its front, it's wrapped in cling film, with no lid and you're careful not to drop it everywhere. It wasn’t heavy, per se, just filled to the brim and without careful steps it was close to tipping out. You walk out of the storage room carefully, before turning towards your station.

“Corner!” You yell, twisting around the corner of the kitchen, before you slam straight into a tall body, jerking back and inadvertently spilling the sauce all across the kitchen floor and onto your shoes. You feel it sink into your socks and drip down your apron, eye twitching in frustration as Marcus starts apologising profusely, you ignore him, dropping down to your knees and reaching for paper towels. You start wiping away the sauce, as Marcus drops down to your level and tries to help, you shake our head looking up at him.

“Stop, Marcus, just stop. I can do it” You reply

“But-” Marcus protests

“We don't need two chefs to clean up a one person job, alright? You need to finish prep” You reply, letting the towels soak up the sauce. You grieve for Sydney, not all of it had spilt, but a quarter of a container wasn’t enough to get through the morning rush, let alone the entire day.

You ignore the spilt sauce all over your clothes, you didn’t have time to change now, rushing back to your station before telling Sydney about the spill

“You serious? I thought I could leave early today, got a friend's birthday” Sydney replies, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You instantly feel guilty, you should've been more careful, and now Sydney would have to pay for it.

“Hey, I got it, let me take that new recipe off your plate. That gives you enough time to get to the party?” You reply

Sydney looks up, rising her eyebrows “No, no I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“Nonsense, I owe you anyway, remember when I had to leave halfway through the morning to get my sister?” You reply, with a tired smile before Sydney wraps her arms around you, you rub a hand across her back. You can’t really feel her arms around you, it’s like all your senses are delayed, you ignore it as you get back to work, now with another task on your plate.

You finish chopping the vegetables after a short while, usually you were the fastest in the house, but today you lagged behind, finally carrying the vegetables to Carmen who looked at you strange, his eyes staring through you, he swallowed like he was going to say something as you walked away, before stopping and continuing stirring the stock on the stove

By the time the Beef opens, you're still elbow deep in work, you've stayed silent most of the time, waving off Marcus’s apology and instead working, not stopping since you started. You skipped breakfast, and you hadn't gotten a chance to eat, and just when you're about to make yourself something, Richie calls your name from the front counter.

You walk towards the front of the Beef, wiping stains on your apron to look a little presentable to the outside world. Richie stands at the register, flicking a pen in his hand, a look of annoyance on his face.

“What's up?” You ask Richie, as a tall man dressed down in a polo sweater and khakis stares down at you in anger. He’s familiar, someone you had served when Richie had to take his smoke break, and he scrutinises you as you smile at him.

That’s the only way you could communicate with these people, any hint of anger and you’d be written of as angry and unable to control your emotions, you lost your last job because you defended yourself anyway.

“This guy said he came in and you made him something he apparently didn't like, but finished anyway” Richie replies, a knowing look passes between you both and you sigh, you don't have time for this.

“Morning Sir, May I ask what’s the problem” You ask politely

“You suggested to me a dish from the menu, alright, YOU, not me, so don't go blaming me for this, and look what I got, not only does it have nuts, which i hate, it's spicy. Way too spicy, I want a refund, NOW” The man replies, seething, his yelling catches the attention of other patrons, and Richie begins to reach under the table for a bat.

“Well, you finished it all so I don’t know what you-” You begin before the man cuts you off loudly

“Do you think I give a shift what you think? Huh? Jesus fucking Christ, see you just need to do what I fucking say, not argue. Give me a refund before I get you fired from this shit hole you dumb stupid-” The man yells, loudly before Carmen's booming voice cuts him off

“I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you” Carmen replies, clenching his jaw in way that told you he was trying to hold back the rage from spilling out

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asks

“I own this shit hole you piece of shit, and if you don't get the fuck out of my restaurant I'm going to break every single bone in your face with my bare hands".

“Excuse me?”

Carmen laughs, shaking his head before smiling at the man

“I told you”

Carmen drags the man by his collar, throwing him onto the sidewalk and dragging his body to the alleyway, you fear what he is going to do and Richie raises his eyebrows in astonishment.

“Well shit cousin, you ain't a pussy after all” Richie mutters under his breath

You can faintly hear the sound of splitting skin and the crack of bone, before Carmen storms back into the restaurant, eyeing all the patrons who are following his every move.

“Y'all got that? Anyone mess with my people hear and your walk out on a fucking stretcher” Carmen replies still seething with anger, before Richie claps loudly as Carmen walks back behind the desk.

“Call a fucking ambulance” Carmen replies, rolling his eyes at Richie before he walks towards you, the the tension immediately leaving him as he find your safe and away from that man.

“You alright? He didn't hurt you or anything?” Carmen asks in concern, his eyes darting across your body to see any imagined injuries

“It seems you should be asking him that question” You reply, nudging towards the alley of the Bear, chuckling as you shake your head.

“You didn't have to do that you know, iIcould have-” You start

Carmen looks down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places his hand on you shoulder

“Could've what? He was screaming in your face and I wasn't about to let him think that shit was okay, god, how could you not react?” Carmen replies, looking down at you in concern, shaking his head as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m just so busy, I still- Fuck, i still got to get Cicero's marinade in the fridge, and i need to start on Syd’s broth” You mutter pressing your fingertips to your temples.

“What? You’re doing Sydney’s load as well? Hey, you need to sit down a second” Carmen replies, as you begin to walk back towards the kitchen, with Carmen hot on your heels, asking you to stop and turn to him.

You hear him call your name, but the mountain of tasks that were now even later due to that customer had begun to seize your consciousness.

All you could focus on was the dishes you needed to make and the pain in your temples that had begun to spread down, your vision getting fuzzy around the edges as you try and shake yourself awake.

“Dammit, listen to me! Stop cutting fucking vegetables and listen to me” Carmen yells at you for the first time, twisting your body to face him and you spit out in anger

“What?!”

“What’s gotten into you today?” Carmen replies, yelling

And you don't know why, but that question breaks something in you, and you can't help but let out a short chuckle. Carmen looks down at you in horror, trying to reach for you, to catch you when the inevitable happens and you look at him once before it does.

Before your vision begins to blur and the edges begin to burn like a flame, you try and catch yourself, but it’s too late and you fall into Carmen's arms, wrapped up against his chest as you crash.

Carmen gathers you in his arms, his heart breaking beneath his breasts, holding his sweet girl in his arms as the streams of tears dampen his shirt. The rest of the crew watch on in concern, and Carmen shoes them away as he carries your unconscious body to the office.

“What the fuck Cousin?” Richie calls

“Hey, hey, is she alright? What -what happened?” Sydney replies in horror as she watches Carmen carry you from the kitchen.

“What happened was, ya'll did fuck all when she was practically breaking down trying to finish everyone else's fucking mess. What happened? Are you fucking serious? If i wasn't there, she would’ve fainted into a burning skillet of your fucking vegetables Sydney” Carmen replies, shaking his head, the entire crew goes silent, the only sounds coming from the beeps of ovens and stove tops, and the sizzling of burning food.

Carmen goes quiet, as he assesses your state, there is something unwritten in the way he holds you, and he blinks tight, his face twitching a little as if he had to make sure you were in his arms, the only place he wanted you to be.

“Get back to work” Carmen replies, quietly, a stark contrast to his rage from before, the crew has never seen him like this, his eyes and focus on you, as if he has been seized by this responsibility and dying need to protect you. He can hardly breathe, his arms shaking as he stares down at your sullen and tired face.

“We need-” Marcus starts before Carmen shakes his head

“No, no, enough. Sydney will hold down the fort, this is my responsibility. Get. back to work.” Carmen replies

—-

Carmen wastes no time to gently place your body onto the scuffed office couch, pressing a hand to your head, before reaching for an ice cold container of water, dipping a towel into it before gently pressing it to your forehead.

Carmen shakes his head in anger, he should've seen this coming, he should've noticed from the slump of your shoulder and your one word answers that you were stretching yourself too thin.

Carmen tortures himself as he replays the moments before you fainted into his arms. The way your features twisted into a sob, and the lasts shred of resolve snapped, and you had reached for him, you had reached for him.

You had reached for Carmen when you fell, and something in him broke when he had caught you.

Carmen had been used to his own self-destruction, but as he rested his thumb, rubbing circles and wiping away the tears on your face, he wished himself to change, not just for him, but for you. How could he? How could you be such a poor example to you? This was his own fault, and the reality of that conclusion twists like a knife to his gut.

His sweet girl, his Sunshine, who had thought the needs of this goddamn sandwich shop was more important than her own. You begin to stir in his arms, and the tension and shake of his arms begins to release as you wake up, Carmen eases you into consciousness when you begin to panic.

“Hey hey, I’m right here, you're okay, you're okay” Carmen replies softly, and you squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to understand what had happened and why you felt like your body was filled with lead.

"What, what happened” You reply, looking across the location of the office.

“You fainted, and I carried you to the office because you are not going back into that kitchen” Carmen replies, sitting up from his slumped position.

You stay quiet, confusion lacing your features as you shake your head. You fainted? How did that even happen? You had never fainted in your entire life.

Carmen peers at you, his eyes dancing across your face as your silence frightens him, he wouldn't even recognise you, your usual bubbly, and incredibly chirpy self was not replaced by someone who was so exhausted they couldn’t stay conscious.

“You gotta talk to me baby girl, please, look at me, you can tell me, you can tell me anything” Carmen replies, softly, caressing your hand with his thumb when it begins to shake.

You look up at him, his expression of worry and concern causing your features to twist,

“I um, I’m just a little tired” You reply, the beginning of tears choking you, causing your words to rush out as you try to stop yourself but it is fruitless, and Carmen eyebrows kind of pinch, he kind of frowns a little as he looks at you in that way.

It's all it takes before you sob, and sink into the coach. Carmen gathers you once again in his arms, and scoops your legs so that they lay across his thighs, and your head rests against his collarbone.

“I know baby, I know, I’m sorry, Oh honey I am so sorry” Carmen replies, rubbing your back as you let the last of your resolve sink into his chest, the cry of your tears leaving you speechless.

You can’t stop crying, the cup spilling over and making a big whole mess, snot and tears and heartache and exhaustion dirties Carmen's chef whites and you can't help but grip onto him like he is the only thing tethering you to Earth.

You don’t have to tell Carmen then, he knew the second you walked in, and he knows now when you hold him. There's a certain grief Carmen feels when he looks at you and sees himself, and in a way this is for Carmen too.

You sit like this for a while, you and Carmen. Wrapped in his arms as you lay across his lap, long after the tears had run dry, where you are left with hiccups and the soothing touch of Carmen's hand across your back.

It feels like you two are the only people on earth. Everything is Carmen; its all you smell, all you feel against your skin, all you hear as he whispers into you ear. No one dares to step into the office doors, even when an hour ticks by, even when the trickle of customers turns into a downpour and the orders never end, the family knows that you need this, that your health was better than money, or happy customers and fuck all.

Even after you have cried your eyes out, the responsibility of work begins to weigh on your body, you still had so much to do with so little time

“But the marinade, and- and Sydney's” You begin before Carmen cuts you off with a soft squeeze.

“Richie’ll handle it, and if he doesn't Cicero can go fuck himself. You really think I’m going to let that override you right now? Just forget about the kitchen alright, can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Carmen replies

You nod, the burden that had exhausted you to sickness lifted from your shoulders. You look towards the clock and realise the vendors were coming soon to meet with Carmen, something he couldn’t miss.

“The vendors, aren't they-”

“They came in 3 hours early, it's why it took me so long to get to you when that asshole was throwing a fit” Carmen replies, knowing what you were asking for.

You peek at him in question “Well?”

“They signed.” Carmen replies, rolling eyes and smiling at your delighted squeal

“What did I tell you? Carmen Berzatto is more than-” You start before a yawn stretches through you.

“Alright, alright, enough talking from you. When’s the last time you ate?” Carmen asks

You stop and scratch your head, trying to think and you laugh a little when you can’t remember.

“I don't know” You reply

Carmen’s eye twitches, and he smiles down at you before easing you off his thighs and onto the coach.

“What- what are you doing?” You ask, not even trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You already miss the heat of his chest warm against your cheek.

Carmen smiles softly as he looks down at you, threaded a hand through his head as he wipes down the creases on his apron.

“I’m making you something”

“What? No it’s- it’s okay I’ll eat at family” You reply, reaching a hand out to him

Carmen reaches for your palm, pressing a soft kiss on your the skin of your knuckles before reaching down to kiss the top of your head.

“No you need to eat now, alright? You're going to sleep the rest of the day, and then, and then, you're coming back to my place so I can keep an eye on you. You gonna listen to me or protest?” Carmen replies, eyebrow raised as he crosses his arms. His voice drops down an octane, like it was a command, and you have to bite back the desire floating in your stomach at the way he looks down with his eyes all heavy from above.

“Okay, alright, whatever you say Chef” You reply with a smile, and Carmen sinks his teeth into his bottom lip when you say it like that.

“Just wait a sec” Carmen replies, and as he is about to leave you call for him again

“What are you even making, half the ingredients are gone”

“It’s no problem, it’s your recipe anyway” Carmen replies, with a hint of a smile on his face before he leaves the room. It takes you a while, half because you're exhausted and the other half because you're hungry before the realisation hits you that he's made a recipe for you, about you.

You can't help the smile that stretches across your face, goddamnit Carmen Berzatto, and you say you aren't a romantic.

2K notes · View notes

iiseult · 5 months

Text

𝐻𝒾𝑔𝒽 𝒩𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝒮𝓊𝓃𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 - 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒪𝓃𝑒: 𝒜 𝒢𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒞𝒽𝑒𝓈𝓈

CWs → fluff, angst, historical inaccuracies, slow burn, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, eventual smut (once reader and baldwin are both over 18), leprosy lol, time-period accurate sexism (but hopefully not much cause I ain’t writin allat), arranged marriage, the inevitable misery that this man’s tragic existence brings me, baldwin is originally way more in love than reader is, but don’t worry, you’ll come around!

Wordcount: 3.4k

Note: I can’t be bothered to do any real historical research, so this is surely rife with inaccuracies! Please let me know if there’s something about it that you know that I don’t know that I should know. Get it? Greatly appreciated!

The first time you laid eyes on the King of Jerusalem, he temporarily blinded you. So strong was the high afternoon sunlight that reflected off his silver mask, so pure was the white color of his robes, trimmed in gold. The sight of him in that moment burned itself into your memory forever.

The King’s horse, with a coat just as white as the rest of his majesty’s garments, came to a halt before you, whinnying and kicking up a cloud of dust as his gloved hands pulled back on the reins. You were in his way, and yet you couldn’t move. All you could do was stare up at the one part of him that was visible– his cloudy blue eyes, half-lidded and rimmed in red– and they were focused on you. Though it was hard to tell, it seemed to you his expression must have been soft, almost curious, so you held his gaze for as long as he would permit it. His lashes were blonde and soft, so much so that you were envious of the cheek that must have felt them gently brush against it whenever he blinked. Even if that cheek was hidden behind a mask.

Your father was a wealthy lord, and your mother a distinguished lady, making you no stranger to nobility and the powerful auras that often surrounded them, but his was different. Whereas the gaze of any other King would make you instinctually bow, his made your body freeze and your blood run hot. His was like the light of the sun. It was something you wished to bask in, to savor. Though you had never seen him before, you knew this man was your king. Finally, your body responded to this intrinsic fact and you bowed deeply, your cheeks burning red as a rush of self-hatred overtook you. Only three seconds into finally meeting him, and you were already letting his powerful aura wipe away all that bitter disdain you’d been working on so diligently throughout the past week.

“You may rise,” he uttered, his voice soft and smooth, like the feeling of woven silk against your fingertips. It was higher than you had imagined, a true tenor. Reluctantly, you straightened, doing everything in your power to avoid meeting his eyes again, for that would be improper, and you didn’t want to risk exposing him to the hideous anger that was currently boiling in your heart. Yet. He studied you for a moment, taking in your fine clothing and well-maintained hair, which flowed freely down your back, and came to the conclusion that you must be a lady. Perhaps the one he had been reluctant to meet all week since he had learned of her family’s arrival.

“My lady,” he began, tilting his head to the side, “Why are you alone?”

You broke your oath to yourself and looked back up to him, caught a bit off-guard by his question. Truthfully, you were surprised he was speaking to you at all, when he could have easily ridden his horse away and locked himself in his room, as had been his habit since your arrival. You bit back a dry chuckle and fought to maintain your respectful demeanor. In all honesty, it absolutely enraged you that he hadn’t made any effort to meet you or your family. Although you had been told by everyone that he was a good man and an even better king, you wanted to see that for yourself, and so far he was failing to meet your remarkably low expectations.

“I asked my maid to stay behind while I enjoyed a walk in your gardens,” you replied hesitantly. But why does it matter?

He was silent. You shifted uncomfortably.

“They are most beautiful, Your Majesty,” you added, hoping it was only you that felt the mounting tension.

“What is your name?” he asked softly.

“Y/N.”

He hummed quietly, a sound that made your stomach flip, though you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad feeling.

“So you are lady Y/N,” he stated, “and it is you who are to be my betrothed.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

That night, the King joined you and your family for dinner for the first time all week. His regent, count Raymond III of Tripoli, was shocked that he had finally agreed to leave his solitary games of chess in his bedroom.

“What, if you don’t mind me asking, Your Majesty, caused such a sudden change of heart? Just this morning you were averse to the idea of taking a meal with our guests,” Raymond asked as he and the young king slowly made their way to the great hall. The boy simply replied,

“I met her.”

King Baldwin knew he was running out of time. Day by day he could feel his body being eaten away by his affliction. How nice it would be to have a wife, someone to share his burden and rule alongside him until his time on this earth was at its end. But he never imagined he’d ever find a woman willing to throw her life away like that, or a family willing to condemn their daughter to such a fate. When Raymond told him of your noble family’s offer, he accepted, but not for the selfish reason of personal desire. No, he did so to ensure that Jerusalem would still have a chance at prospering after his passing. It needed to be done for the sake of the people.

After your marriage ceremony, Baldwin planned on allowing his queen to live her life as she pleased, free of any obligation to spend time with him. He would not disturb her or expect affection from her. He knew she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. As far as he was concerned, you’d never be in the same room again, and that was just fine. But he couldn’t completely suppress every one of his selfish desires. Just once, he wanted to let his imagination go, to pretend he could love someone, and that she could love him back. Seeing you for the first time was what made up his mind. Something tender stirred in his heart when he heard you utter your own name, and he decided that just a few hours with you would have to be enough to tide him over for the rest of his life. So he went to dinner.

Everyone stood and bowed as he entered the room. He took his seat at the head of the table and greeted each of his guests kindly. He permitted them to begin their meal, though he wouldn’t be participating. Normally, he had no trouble removing his mask in front of people at mealtimes, but your presence gave him pause. Surely you’d be repulsed, and it would be over before it even began. So he opted out of eating, instead choosing to watch you.

You felt his eyes before you saw them. That same warm feeling washed over you, and it wasn’t due to the wine you were drinking. You looked up and, unsurprisingly, his masked face was tilted in your direction. You fought the instinct to look away and instead held his eye contact, furrowing your brows a bit. Why now was he making an appearance after days of neglect? How were you supposed to react to that? And what gave him the nerve?

Next to you, your mother cleared her throat and whispered your name in a scolding tone. You shook yourself out of your inner monologue and uncreased your brow, which had unintentionally morphed into something closer to a scowl as your thoughts ran away from you. You smiled sheepishly at your mother, who did not look pleased, but she said nothing more about the matter. Next time you managed to steal a glance at the king, he was looking down at his empty plate. Good, you thought, Maybe he’s repenting for ignoring me all week.

When your parents had informed you of the marriage they had arranged between you and the king of Jerusalem, you weren’t exactly thrilled. Being a queen sounded like a big responsibility– one you weren’t sure you even wanted. Yes, it came with a lot of upsides, like the lush palace you’d be living in and the loyal servants that would tend to your every whim, but it also came with the burden of raising a family and making important decisions for your subjects. Not to mention the totally random man you’d suddenly be sharing the rest of your life with. As far as you were concerned, your future relationship with King Baldwin was just a chore; something that was certainly necessary, but not guaranteed to be enjoyable. If you were lucky, the two of you would learn to get along, just as your own parents had, and a few years down the line you’d pop out a couple kids and then wait around to die.

The rest of dinner was excruciating. You couldn’t relax, and your mother was absolutely insufferable, constantly checking to make sure you were sitting up straight and minding your manners. Your father was engaged in a riveting conversation with count Raymond, saving you from further scrutiny. By the end of the meal, you were about ready to retire to bed and stare at the ceiling for a few hours, but god had other plans for you, it seemed.

“Y/N, you’ll be joining the king for a game of chess in the library while your mother and I discuss legal matters with the count. We will come to collect you when we’re finished,” your father ordered, giving you a stern look that essentially told you not to do anything that might jeopardize your future– whatever that implied. You nodded demurely, biting back a scream of frustration. And just like that, he was behind you.

You felt his presence before he even said anything. A gentle heat emanated from his body, and a warm, slightly earthy smell wafted off him, like herbs and spices.

“Lady Y/N, I will show you to the library. Please follow me,” he said, his voice vibrating in his chest, only mere inches away from your back. You shivered and turned to face him, but his eyes were unreadable, and then he was walking away from you. Left with no other option, you followed swiftly, maintaining a safe distance. He led you through the winding, echoing stone hallways of his palace, dimly lit by candles and torches, since the sun had set hours ago. You had to admit, it was a beautiful place, and you wouldn’t mind getting used to it, even if that did mean you had to spend the odd hour with your soon-to-be husband. Soon, you arrived in front of a large, heavy oak door, which he pushed open with ease.

“After you,” he murmured, holding it open for you. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you shuffled into the room, immediately gawking at the towering ceilings and shelves upon shelves of books. There was a spiral staircase on each side of the room that led to a second floor balcony, which was visible through the railing encasing it. In the middle of the room sat a handsome wooden table with a chess board on it, the pieces already set up for a game. You always did like chess, but your two younger brothers constantly hogged the board and didn’t let you play, so you were forced to observe. It was rare that you actually got to play.

“Have a seat, lady Y/N. You can take white,” the king said, pulling out the chair for you. Reluctantly, you sat down, raising an eyebrow and wondering why all the chivalry all of the sudden. It was a little suspicious, but you couldn't help but approve. He kept his gloved hand on the back of the chair until you were comfortable, and then helped you scoot closer to the table. You turned your head and looked up at him, and you noticed the subtle crinkle of his eyes and the softness dancing behind them.

He was smiling.

The corner of your lip quirked up to mirror him– you couldn’t help it, though you had no idea why. And just like that, the sound of blood rushing in your head ceased, and a sense of quiet serenity fell over the room. The defenses you had put up to quell your nerves no longer seemed necessary. The contempt in your heart was ebbing away every moment you spent in his presence. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding before, and made your first move.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The chess game was abysmal. It’s not that you weren’t able to hold your own, because you certainly were, but it wasn’t nearly as easy as you had hoped. Whenever you played with your younger brothers, they’d be wiped in about ten minutes. You thought that’s just how the game was; short and sweet. But already thirty minutes had passed and a winner was just beginning to emerge, and regrettably, it wasn’t you. You scowled as King Baldwin took your last rook.

As you played, he intermittently broke the silence to ask you questions about yourself. At first it was mundane things, like what you enjoyed doing or what your favorite meal was, but it gradually became personal. You discussed your family, fond childhood memories, and your fears. Sometimes he would even throw you a bone and answer one of the questions himself, clearing away the shroud of mystery that surrounded him little by little.

“May I speak freely, my King?” you asked tentatively, ignoring the game for a moment to let him know you were about to get serious. He folded his hands on the edge of the table and leaned back in his chair, studying you carefully.

“You may, although I never wish you to speak conservatively in my presence.”

You smiled thinly, choosing your next words very carefully so as not to overstep boundaries.

“Why do you wear a mask?”

The king bristled at your question, sucking in a sharp breath, and a wave of regret washed over you. But before you could take it back, he replied,

“So nobody has to see it.”

You didn’t know what to say. His answer wasn’t really much of an answer, and it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, but it sent a pang of pain through your heart nonetheless. Why wouldn’t he want people to see his face, even in the comfort of his own castle?

He seemed to register your confusion, and a chill ran down his spine. Did you really not know, or were you playing a cruel joke? The more he thought about it, the more possible it seemed that Raymond hadn’t told your parents the full truth in order to garner their approval. Just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach, for you would certainly leave him the moment you found out. He knew it was too good to be true.

“My lady…are you not aware of my… condition?” he asked quietly, looking down so he wouldn’t have to see your disappointment. Your heart sank, and that rushing sound in your ears returned.

‘Condition…?” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Yes. I thought you knew… your parents…I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice strained. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“My lady, I… am a leper. My condition has caused my nerves to degrade slowly, and I am already losing sensation in my right hand. My skin is covered in hideous sores, especially my face. I wear the mask… to spare you.”

You stared. The room was spinning, not from shock, but rather from the sheer anger you felt toward your parents at that moment. They had tricked you. They had played a dirty, dirty trick and married you off, just so they could improve their own social standing, and they had done it all with absolutely no regard for your own wishes. No regard for the rest of your life, even. You slammed your fist on the table, the reverberations knocking over a few chess pieces and causing Baldwin to jump in his seat. He wasn’t expecting you to take the news well, but this was unprecedented. You seethed silently.

Well, that’s just fine, you thought, Because once we’re married, I’ll be the queen of Jerusalem… and the queen is NOT accepting visitors. No exceptions.

Baldwin stayed silent, his head bowed in resignation. He understood how you felt. It was a cruel situation indeed, and he wished he could go back and decline the arrangement, if only to spare you the unimaginable rage that spilled out of your gaze, which was trained intently on some unknowable spot in the distance. You stood abruptly, knocking your chair over as it hit the back of your legs, and he winced at the sound. But to his complete and utter surprise, you didn’t storm out of the room.

Instead, you stormed directly towards him.

Panicking, he rose from his chair, assuming a fortified stance in case you decided to get violent. He wasn’t too worried since he towered over you at an impressive six feet and four inches tall, but he certainly wasn’t looking forward to it, either.

Instead of striking him, you thrust your hand out and grabbed his gloved one, clasping it firmly. He could feel you shaking, presumably with rage.

“Well, King Baldwin,” you began, voice laced with venom, “let me see your face.”

His pretty blue eyes widened, and he didn’t stop you as you reached up and placed a hand on his silver-plated cheek. If you wanted to see, it no longer made a difference to him, since there was no saving the situation anymore. You might as well lay eyes upon the man you had almost married.

He slowly pulled off his hood, revealing a head of silky blond curls that tumbled down to his shoulders, and reached behind his head, untying the threads that held the mask to his face. You felt it give under your touch and removed your hand, letting it fall away and clatter to the floor. Finally, you beheld your king.

“My lord, you’re…” you trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words. Your eyes were wide, and he could see himself in your reflection. His pale skin, mottled with patches of red and pink, his lips, cracked and splitting at the corners, and his own sad blue eyes, one slightly clouded. The same face he saw every morning and every night.

“I know. I can put the mask back on, if you wish. But really, you do get used to it-”

You cut him off by reaching up and gently taking a lock of his curly hair between your fingers, tucking it smoothly behind his ear. He couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face; he had never been this close to a woman before, save for his mother and sister, and they rarely ever dared to touch him. Your gaze was so intense that he almost wanted to look away, but there was something supernatural stopping him from going through with it. And then, you spoke.

“I cannot wait to marry you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Note: I will add links to the other parts once I post them and idk when that's happening so stay tuned! Part 2

#king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #baldwin of jerusalem #baldwin iv x reader #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven fandom #the leper king

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onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / fluff!! a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

> content/warnings: jimin cameo!!, a photobooth, oc gets a little hot & bothered bcs jk is a menace lol (they both are <3), touches a biiit on toxic relationships but this is pure fluff and yearning :p (the ex oc mentions is the same as the one mentioned in the first meeting drabble)

> songs: bad - wave to earth / just like magic - ariana grande

> in which masterlist!

note: just a sweet and silly drabble of jungkook being hopelessly whipped for oc before they even became official *to intensify the seven mv brainrot* no i didn’t plan this 🥲 + hehe this was only a week before the first kiss :p reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !! <3

—

“you really came!”

you run towards jungkook with a wide smile that reaches your eyes. the bag hanging on your shoulder swings and strikes your hip due to your excitement, but you could care less about the clinking of coins when there’s a bright star leaning on a lamp post, smiling back at you.

you stand before him as he straightens himself up, puffs of a fleeting cloud appearing as you pant lightly. “dummy, it’s so late. i told you to go to bed. aren’t you tired?”

“exactly, it’s so late.” he emphasizes your words to scold you, concern dripping from the tone of his soft voice. “of course i had to come.”

he tips his head to the side, sparkling eyes drinking you in as if he didn’t just see you the other night.

“you’re so adorable today.”

“thanks. is it because of this?” you happily scrunch your nose at the compliment, tugging at the strings of the brown knitted ear warmers wrapped around your head.

it is near midnight. drowning in the warmth of his bed to flee the freezing season, jungkook should be comfortably resting at home. however, he just had to look for your name in his contact list despite being absolutely knackered… and somehow he ended up here, because if he has been trading his sleep for work all these years, then he can also trade it any day to spend his midnights with you.

an endeared grin spreads on his face, rosy cheeks numb from the cold. “hm, teddy bear.”

a gust of silence passes by as your inquiring eyes survey the white plastic bag hanging from his hand, the company logo stamped in the middle of it familiar since childhood.

“what’s that? are you sick?”

“me?” he points at himself in confusion, shaking his head. “i’m not, though?”

“then why do you have-”

“ahhh- ah!” his face lights up as he is reminded of the other reason he came to you. he slaps his forehead with a chuckle. “i almost forgot.”

jungkook, although still a little shy around you, tries his best to initiate eye-contact when either one of you speaks to avoid giving off the impression that his mind is someplace else when you’re together. however, the mission becomes difficult when you meet his gaze wide-eyed, and he is… breathless.

“you haven’t been feeling well so… uhm, i got you vitamins and more medicine, just incase. here.”

your heart feels like it’s been wrapped in a cozy blanket meant to thaw the winter that has overstayed its welcome, spreading warmth and giddy sparks all the way to the tips of your fingers. you’re relieved that you wore gloves today; he didn’t get electrified when you took the thoughtful gift from his cold hand.

“really? even vitamins?”

the original plan was only to take a peek, but a word written in bold and colorful letters prompts you to bring out the cough medicine for a better look.

oh, jungkook.

you quickly slide it back inside the bag, a laugh accidentally slipping from your mouth. you press your lips into a thin line to suppress the rest of them bubbling in your chest.

“yah, why are you suddenly laughing? did i buy the wrong one?” he questions, nervous about his suspicions being correct.

he follows up with a matter-of-fact tone.

“you said you only like syrup when you have a cough, because it’s soothing.”

“it’s so sweet that you remembered that but…” you giggle, eyes watering as your body quakes with the intensity of it. the image of the packaging flashes in your mind, and you sniffle. “this is for babies.”

“but syrup is really for kids? are they not?”

his doe eyes are shining not with condescension but genuine innocence, and it makes this a whole lot funnier for you.

“yeah, i mean…” you pause as a puzzling realization washes over you.

oh my god, does this mean that this entire time… he’s been thinking that you gulp down bottles of cherry-flavored cough syrup for two-year-old’s? and he didn’t question that? at all?

“i guess you’re right. but they also have one for adults. i was drinking that.”

“huh, that’s what they gave me. and i just assumed-” he gestures at the medicine you’re grasping in your hands before he freezes.

with the clear view of it, he finally discerns how silly of a mistake he has made.

“i must be out of my mind today!”

he breaks out into a fit of laughter, putting a hand over his aching belly.

it’s a sound that has been evoking an inexplicable joy in you since the first time you heard it; a sound that you often miss lately. you still need to remind yourself not to stare at him for too long, scared that he’d be able to read these thoughts from a simple look at your face.

“still, it’s pink. and i bet that tastes better?”

you nod your head in agreement, pulling out the medicine once more to study the directions of use. “with the dropper and everything, i bet it’s a better experience.”

“shit, it- it even has a dropper?”

“i told you! it’s for babies!”

“babies?! no, no. this isn’t it. this won’t do.” he furiously shakes his head as he waves his hand in disapproval, crossing the distance between you to seize your wrist. “let’s go- come with me. let’s go back to the pharmacy. i’ll exchange it for the right one.”

“nope.” you refuse his demands with a smirk, stubbornly breaking away from his grip. “i don’t want to. i’ll keep this.”

“____, come on!”

“but you already gave it to m- jungkook!” you squeal when he makes a move to steal the item from your hands.

out of reflex, you hide them from him behind yourself. and unsurprisingly, that doesn’t deter jungkook’s endless supply of friskiness. he chases you as he reaches for your back, and you carelessly stumble multiple steps backwards to escape him. whimpering at the unexpected impact, you finally reach a dead-end, trapped between a wall and the boy who’s been making your winter a little less blue. your forehead lands on his chest, defeated, and he keeps you steady with a secure hold of your arms.

a harmony of breathy giggles imbues the silence of the deserted sidewalk.

“what are you even going to do with it? you can’t drink it anyway!”

you lift up your head with a drawn-out whine.

you can’t give him an answer.

to be honest, you’re just as clueless as jungkook is.

“ehhh?” he mimics the sound you made with an amused expression painted on his face. you’re too damn adorable for your own good, and it’s doing very dangerous things to his heart. “will you? are you a baby?”

the rhetorical question is a bait that you choose to bite.

“not really, but i can be your baby.” you shrug, melting him with a coquettish smile.

“ah, i see… is that term of endearment your type? you want to be mine?”

his teasing grin puts his dimples on display, and you desperately want to run back into your apartment just to spend a full minute screaming into your pillow. you’re thoroughly convinced that you’ve never felt more attracted to a person than you are to jungkook. this is bad news. you don’t know to what lengths you’re willing to go so that he could stay in your life for as long as you want. it’s terrifying and exhilarating.

“just to set the record straight, you want me to be yours.”

“and if i do? then what…? are you confident you can handle me?”

every nerve connected to your heart is a wire most alive when you yearn to bare it for another.

“try me.”

his hazy eyes falls to your lips and he goes a little crazier than he was the other night. it’s infuriating that you manage to make them look so soft and so inviting despite the frigid air. it’s dizzying, how his face is only inches away from yours and as always, you smell so sweet, just right. he wonders if you taste the same.

jungkook is dying to kiss you.

the thought has been plaguing his mind, haunting his dreams both day and night. he keeps screaming at himself to just fucking do it, but as much as he is impulsive, he doesn’t want to be the guy who catches you off guard. he doesn’t want you confusing your feelings for him with adrenaline. he wants the moment to feel right. he wants you to see that he’s sincere, and he’s nothing like those bastards who took you for granted…

selfishly, he wants this to be something real, co-existing with the fear of pushing you into a tornado of chaos that is his life.

his heart is pounding violently, he’s afraid it might jump through his sweater. the right moment feels like it could be right now, and he knows you feel it too. he observes your breathing getting heavier, and one of your restless hands has freed itself to grab a fistful of his sleeve.

your lips slightly part, and he doesn’t know if it’s the anticipation, or you did it on purpose to rile him up. he figures his jimin-hyung is right; he would be a fool if he allowed you to slip out of his hands. but truth be told, he’s the one wrapped around your finger.

fuck, fuck, fuck. he is doomed.

a pin drops and he is doomed.

his ringtone rattles the silence and slices through the tension between you. disappointment flashes across your face, and you visibly flinch at its loudness. you’ve grown to despise the incessant noise of telephone calls since moving to your apartment, one of your pet peeves jungkook is yet to hear about. panicked and irritated, he scrambles to dish out the vibrating device from the depth of his pocket.

“it’s… it’s my manager. but it’s fine, i’ll handle it.” he informs you quietly as he rejects the call, opting to send a text explaining his whereabouts.

a pang of guilt shoots through your heart.

“you can go home, it’s okay… i can take care of myself.”

“mhm-hm.” he shakes his head, still busy typing away. then, out of nowhere, he looks at you to properly plead. “don’t send me home yet.”

your eyes flicker to watch a piece of ice fall on his shoulder, white contrasting the black fabric of his jacket. another one lands on your hand, and then your collarbone. the stinging coldness, another thing that makes you flinch tonight. you look up to face the snowfall fiercely coming down, and it seems that the heaven opened up the sky to scold two lovesick teenagers tangled in a modern-day dalliance.

goddamn it, you curse.

“are you kidding me?” you grunt in frustration, eyebrows sharpening your previously dazed eyes.

jungkook barely manages to tap the deliver button before you begin dragging him to the roofed entrance of your apartment building.

“stay here. i’ll just grab an umbrella real quick.”

“okay.”

once he confirms that you’re out of sight, he releases a loud sigh, exasperatedly kicking a non-existent ball on the cemented floor.

“fuck! fuck! why? why do i move so slow? ah- they can’t just kill the mood like that. why-” he squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose bridge and putting a hand over his hip, so upset he can’t even speak straight. “we almost… shit, this is driving me insane… she hates me. she must hate me right now. i’m done for.”

—

the aggressive slam of the front door rings throughout your apartment, and you’re about ninety-nine percent certain you disturbed the sleep of a neighbor or two.

“then what?” you grumble to yourself, followed by a desperate cry. “then kiss me! do i really have to do everything myself?”

after grabbing the biggest umbrella you own from the basket you have beside your coat rack, you head to the kitchen where you leave behind what jungkook bought you.

eventually, your overthinking leads you to a bitter conclusion.

“does he not want something more? is he playing with me?!”

and if it was any other person, you’d be fine with that but… your gaze lands on the bottles of vitamins and cough medicine, and you sigh to regulate the accelerated beating of your heart.

“but i think i can finally do this right.”

your voice comes out above a whisper, and the verbal declaration alone fuels the hope in you.

you’re confused whether it’s a sign of luck or childishness. maybe the compensation for being well-acquainted with loss, or good karma if you decide to push it some more… but you always get what you want. despite the blood, sweat, and tears; even during the instances that you do give up, the universe somehow finds a way to arrange matters in your favor.

except you don’t want to give up on this just yet, and you don’t intend to just stand around waiting for the universe work its slow burn magic.

because you look out your bedroom window, and jungkook is squatting on the floor with his head in his hands, looking distraught as if he just lost the lottery and he was only a digit off.

you might be unsure about your label, but he sure wanted to kiss you pinned up against that wall.

—

jungkook casually steals glances from you every now and then. you’ve been softly humming to christmas songs as the ice underneath your feet crunches with every step you take, influenced by the heavy snowfall despite the holidays being long gone.

when you came back, he thought you’d be giving him the cold shoulder, reminiscent of when you got pissed off at a hair stylist not even a week ago (that day, he learned that you’re grumpy when sick, grumpier when jealous). but instead, you lent him a white fuzzy scarf to keep him warm.

“where are we going?” he asks, unaware of your destination.

he’s just been following your lead for the past five minutes or so. he only knows that you’re going someplace that will satisfy your midnight cravings, as you mentioned over the phone earlier.

“i haven’t told you?” you wince. “just mcdonald’s. i’m craving their fries… hmmm, and chocolate sundae.”

“sundae? but you have a cough.”

“i’m all better now! that’s why i’m getting it!” you keen with excitement.

except jungkook is worried. at home and at work, he has many people fussing over him when he’s not feeling well. most of the time, you only have yourself to rely on. he doesn’t like thinking about your past boyfriends, but he hopes that they took care of you when you would get sick. as for the future, he hopes that he’s there.

he perks up when he sees the pharmacy store he’s been thoughtfully scanning both sides of the streets for, recognizing the lightbox signage. “let’s stop here. i’ll buy you your adult syrup.”

“jungkook,” you giggle airily, pulling at his jacket to motion him not to go near it. “i just told you that i’m not sick anymore.”

“it’s better to be prepared.” he reasons.

the snowfall has ceased. he transfers the umbrella to his other side, freeing his hand to hold yours and tug you along with him. he childishly pretends to not hear your protests.

he’s not showing it, but he must be embarrassed about earlier. you can’t help but to smile from ear to ear, watching his back as you’re left a few steps behind, the two of you tied together by his warm and protective grip of your hand.

“jungkook,”

your voice is calmer and quieter. he whips his head back, concerned eyes twinkling from the blaring headlights on the road.

“i’m thirsty.”

—

you’re blissfully unaware of jungkook falling in love with you from the opposite side of the table.

thoroughly engrossed with the movie-like scene outside the glass wall, you’re clutching an apple juice box in both hands, plastic straw stuck between your lips as you take baby sips. he probably sounds like a broken record, but there’s something different in the air tonight, and you’re twice as pretty in his eyes.

“i can sue you for that, you know?”

he drops his phone in shock. he chases it in pure panic as it clashes with the table before tumbling down to his lap. when he puts it down, the screen is already black, a desperate attempt of hiding the raw evidence of his offense. he smiles back at you sheepishly, cheeks and ears flushed after being caught red-handed.

“aren’t i cute? you already made it your lockscreen, haven’t you?” you tease, eyes flickering up to him as you begin stabbing at the chocolate sundae with the little plastic spoon to mix it.

“made what my lockscreen? no, i didn’t!” he strongly denies, holding up his phone to show it to you.

“plain black, really? what happened to gureumie?”

you send him a look of distaste.

“just makes me believe i’m really your lockscreen and you change it to something random before you come see me.” you say in a sing-song voice, shivering with delight after you lick your spoon clean of the sugary treat.

“don’t start. yours is your class schedule!” he retorts with a laugh, which goes up in volume when you slap his hand away for attempting to steal from your fries.

you scowl at him with a displeased pout, dipping a fry into the sundae before popping it in your mouth. “get away. i’m hungrier because you took so long.”

the effect of having your cravings satisfied is instantaneous. it was absolute hell, being sick, albeit it was only a cough accompanied by fatigue. it’s simply no fun being an adult and having no one enter your room every two hours to check up on you. for the first time in the past week, your brain is completely flooded with happy chemicals, and you feel like a little kid kicking their feet with glee.

“it’s not my fault! they had to do something to the ice cream machine… i-i think it stopped working.” jungkook stutters, stuffing his mouth full with a spoonful of his strawberry sundae.

of course, it’s the ice cream machine. it’s always the ice cream machine.

with a gasp, you weakly slam the empty juice box on the table. “wow, i almost didn’t get what i came here for.”

“but you did. ‘cause you’re with your lucky charm.” jungkook cheekily winks at you, and you long to kiss that stupid grin off his face.

—

“holy shit, he’s kneeling down now. kook, he’s begging- look-”

jungkook is convinced he has never seen your eyes this big. he looks at you dumbfoundedly, cheeks full as he chews a huge bite of his burger. you release a sigh, reaching over to turn his face to the side.

outside, just a few feet away at the opposite direction his body is facing, he discovers an angry tear-stained woman sitting on a bench and a man crying on his knees infront of her.

he swallows, tilting his head. huh, so this is what you were watching earlier when you didn’t notice him arrive with the food. funnily enough, this isn’t considered an unusual occurence in such a populated city.

“i knew it. he’s cheating, he’s definitely cheating.” you squint at the scene, shooting daggers in your mind. you rely on muscle memory as you continue to munch and dip your fries in the sundae without bothering to look anymore.

they were still arguing when you gave jungkook your undivided attention, but the shift in the atmosphere captured your interest again when your peripheral vision caught him on the ground.

“how do you know?”

“he panicked and snatched his phone away when she touched it. that’s why they started fighting.”

a sick feeling in your gut deflects your eyes away from the forlorn couple, the salt and the sugar in your food starting to taste bland on your tongue. on the other hand, it seems that it’s jungkook’s turn to be absorbed in them.

“oh, that makes sense.” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows furrowing as he frowns. “seriously, i’ll never understand cheaters. why… would you go out of your way to hurt a person who’s special to you?”

and because of that, his food are left to be unsupervised. with the hopes of resparking your appetite by stealing a taste of something you haven’t had in over a year, you scoop up a small bite of his strawberry sundae.

“that person isn’t special anymore, or maybe they never were in the first place.”

“but if you’re loved by that person, even if you don’t feel the same way anymore, shouldn’t they still be special to you in some ways?”

he returns to his previous position, and the passion written in his eyes like constellations makes you want to believe that maybe the world isn’t a lost cause. it’s a breath of fresh air — the new point of view clear as day infront of you. jungkook is your best friend, it dawns on you then and there.

a best friend who sends you pictures of the sky. a best friend who won’t let you roam the midnight streets with melancholy. a best friend you want to kiss and hold hands with.

“they should, but they’re horny assholes who don’t think about stuff like that.”

“ah, then what a shame.” he chuckles with a scornful shake of his head, finally going back to devouring his burger.

it’s silent for a few beats.

right now, you like the strawberry flavor more than the chocolate. it tastes better than you remember. it’s rekindling an old flame.

“are you that type of boyfriend? who gives out their password?” your voice is rife with interest as you casually steal another spoonful of jungkook’s dessert.

“of course, i don’t mind. i have nothing to hide. i just have the most random photos, and like a thousand voice memos… but… how do i say it?” he pauses to organize his thoughts, eyes pointing towards ceiling. “uhm, it can get uncomfortable, and hurtful… if they always thoroughly check everything. i don’t know…”

“no, i get that. my ex was doubtful of me all the time and it was tiring. giving reassurance is important, but so is having boundaries… never forget that, understand?”

you radiate with so much tenderness, he finds it so easy to listen to every word that you say. but since you already understand the importance of balancing those two things, can he just forget about it and admire your face?

“is that why you broke up with him?”

you pucker your lips in thought, playfully twirling the plastic spoon between your fingers.

“i guess so? he… he just sees me as a bad person. and i was starting to believe that i am.” you decide to put it lightly, scoffing when the mortifying memories of him floods your mind. “when i had that epiphany, i broke up with him right away. we just weren’t good for each other.”

jungkook utters your name, mellow and sweet, like a serenade.

you’re reminded that he sings for a living.

“hmm?”

“i don’t know what happened between you but… when i say you’re a good person, i’m really being sincere.”

during the fall, talking about your past relationship made your heart feel unbearably heavy.

but tonight, it’s winter. jungkook holds out his little spoon to feed you a bite of his strawberry sundae, and you accept it without thinking.

uh-oh.

you peer up to him shyly.

“and because you were so kind to me the first time we met, i don’t mind you being a thief.” he fondly strokes your hair, and you squeeze your eyes shut as your body vibrates with giggles. “aigoo, you eat so well. good job, ____.”

—

“where you are taking me? this isn’t the way home!”

jungkook has an arm around swung over your shoulder, gluing you to his side as you walk together. the last time you checked the time, it was 1:27am. the stores you brush past are already lights off, locked up, and the sidewalk is mostly dead and quiet.

“i really like taking photos, you know?” he grins, sounding thrilled, and you glance at him with suspicion in your eyes.

“i’m very much aware. and so?”

you yawn not long after, leaning some of your weight on him as tiredness seeps into your overused muscles. you’re awfully sleepy, and cold. you can hear your bed calling out your name from kilometers away.

“so we’ll take some together.”

from a distance, you immediately recognize the famous photobooth only several buildings away from the noisy night life of the long rows of bars and nightclubs.

you feel your knees go weaker.

oh, you’re in very serious trouble.

—

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his muscular thighs.

“sit here?” he pats his lap as an invitation, looking up to your motionless figure still standing infront of the closed curtain. “or do you want me to stand behind the chair?”

curse him and his intoxicating perfume and his arm wrapped around your waist.

“four photos and… we’ll print… two copies.” he thinks out loud, face so close to yours as he taps on the screen infront.

curse the stupid person who decided to only put one small stool in this small photobooth.

you won’t dare to make it obvious, but your heart is doing somersaults. you realize how arrogant you were for whining about him not kissing you yet, because here you are trying your hardest not to squirm as you’re sat across his lap.

unconsciously, you embrace the scarf he took off close to your chest.

it’s… been quite a long, torturous while of being deprived of physical touch. and you like jungkook. you like jungkook so much that despite hating cramped spaces, you flash the camera a sweet smile while playfully squishing his pouty face in your hand.

“oh, oh, that’s right!”

a yellow lightbulb appears above his head. he bounces his legs to capture your attention, his arms tightening around your waist to prevent you from falling off.

you cross your thighs to subtly squeeze them together, a poor attempt at putting out the fiery tingles spreading throughout your body. you swallow thickly. he needs to fucking sit still. your self-control is running thin.

“act angry at me and i’ll put it as the first picture, okay?”

“huh? why?”

“so i’ll always remember that you got annoyed at me for dragging you here.”

“and i’m still annoyed!” you slap his chest with a frown, glaring at him exactly as he imagined you would.

his mischievous grin stays when he faces the camera, winking and throwing up a peace sign as the flash goes off.

when the timer starts again, he rushes to reach for the floor, sticking his hand in the paper bag from the pharmacy.

“for the next one- stay still-”

you’re completely clueless. your vision remains fixed on him until he reveals a bunch of pink ribbon hairclips on his big palm.

“where did you get these?” you blink at him.

he only shushes you as he removes the earwarmers from your head, thoughtfully fixing your hair before carefully adorning it with the ribbons as fast as he can.

“the ice cream machine wasn’t broken, was it?”

“shhh, we’re running out of time.” he rebukes you to mask his bashfulness, teeth sinking in his bottom lip as he focuses on arranging the ribbons symetrically.

“are these mine?”

“yours.” he confirms absentmindedly. he backs up to inspect his work, but he only ends up thinking to himself is it right for someone to be this beautiful?

the time runs out before you can deem yourself ready. the camera captures jungkook trying to tame your baby hairs, and you, watching him with a faint smile of affection.

“what do we do now?”

he shrugs. “let’s do whatever we want.”

“wow, i can finally do what i want?” you reply sarcastically. “i thought you were prepared for this.”

“three seconds!”

since you’re already smiling in the other two photos, you figure that it’s your turn to pout in the last.

the number ‘1’ appears on the screen, and you feel him pull you closer than you’ve ever been.

curse jeon jungkook.

curse him and his hand on your neck and his soft lips pressed to your cheek.

—

“you’re sneaky.”

“you’re one to talk.” jungkook replies, and you roll your eyes.

he chuckles to himself as he scans his copy of the photostrip under the street lamp beside the photobooth. on the other hand, your back is resting against it, your arms crossed over your chest. you take a fleeting glance at him, secretly smiling to yourself because he looks so happy.

yours is tucked in between the pages of the book inside your bag.

later. you can look at it later when you’re a little more sane and the ghost of his lips stops lingering on your skin.

“i don’t just let myself get kissed for free. don’t you know that?” you heave a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance. “but since you bought me new clips,”

you turn your cheek to stare at him, but you instantly break the eye contact when you see how he looks like an excited puppy when he’s amused by you.

“…i’ll let this pass.”

“i think i just found the motivation to make more money today.”

you crack up at his words. “shut up!”

god, you’re getting swayed by his antics. he has too much hidden underneath his sleeve. you need to up your game.

a breeze sweeps across the earth, and you sniffle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. it’s getting colder and your battery is draining rapidly as the clock ticks. you die a little inside when you think about the consequences of your late-night adventure. there has to be time for you to squeeze in a nap between school and work, right? right? unbeknownst to you, jungkook takes notice of your weary state. he crosses the distance between you to wrap the ear warmers around your head.

“tsk, you’re going to catch a cold.” he whispers, loosely tying the straps under your chin. he reaches for a ribbon, but then pauses to ask for permission. “do you want to take off these now, so you won’t fall asleep on them? these are kind of sharp.”

“stop taking such good care of me.” you say half-jokingly, starting to remove them on your own. “i might get used to it.”

this upsets jungkook, it seems.

his lips are in a permanent pout as he answers, eyebrows knitting together. “what’s wrong with that?”

you only shake your head with a vague smile.

—

JK :

4:11am

[sent four photos]

credit GCF if you post on insta

got it?

you’re welcome !!!

4:13am

hehe you must be sleeping now right?

you better be !

4:18am

the truth is i’m a bit shy to tell you this in person but ... thank you for being someone i can spend time with comfortably and for always making me smile. i really like you a lot .. i mean that sincerely too

sweet dreams ____ :)

—

“goodnight, jungkook.”

you stood on your toes to kiss his cheek, painstakingly chaste yet sinfully calculated. he was left all alone in the empty hallway of your apartment floor, too stunned to remember and return your scarf.

it is not the first time you did that, but his mind is reeling like crazy tonight — the corner of his lips is still stained with the graze of your lips.

a rhythmic knock snaps him out of the electrifying memory.

“jungkook-ah,” a freshly-awoken jimin raspily croaks out while he rubs his blurry eyes. “did you bring home anything?”

is this becoming a routine now? him visiting at an ungodly hour in the morning; jungkook sitting up without a word to retrieve the snacks from under his bed.

“thank you.”

he receives an appreciative pat on the back before jimin grabs one of the diamond-shaped biscuits you earnestly made a whole tray of, enough to go around for seven people. he nibbles on it as he flops down on the mattress, planning to sleep here some more until it’s time to prepare for work.

however, his drowsiness gets pushed to the back burner when the photostrip beside the maknae’s pillow attracts his attention.

“yo, jungkook! is this from tonight?”

“hyung! be quiet!” jungkook whisper-shouts.

“the staff didn’t mention a photobooth to me. is this a secret?” the late-night visitor whispers back to humor him.

the bed creaks as he chases the printed memories from jimin’s grasp, who seems to have gained enough energy to tease him, heartily giggling as he rolls away to the edge of the bed.

“yah, you’re so cute together?!”

jungkook’s bunny teeth pop out as he’s unable to resist a satisfied beam at the flattering remark. damn right, they do.

pulling out a pillow from behind him, he playfully hits jimin with the huge bundle of cotton. “hyung, finish eating and go back to sleep. we have that thing later, remember?”

“you’re hurting my feelings. what happened to telling your hyung about your crush?”

—

“wait a second- i’m still confused. you sprinted to the fashion boutique before ordering?” jimin flips over to lie down on his stomach, speech muffled by the biscuit between his lips.

“they close at midnight, so i had to run there first.” jungkook explains as he reseals the tupperware. weirdly, he only feels the ache in his body now that he’s talking about it. “they really like things like that.”

“you’ve told me. so how long do you plan on keeping that in here?”

his gaze lands on the paper bag labelled ‘CHANEL’ on the other side of the room, and he makes a pained expression, still agonizing over whether he should give it to you or not.

“but don’t you think it’s too much? maybe i should save it for their birthday.”

“be honest with me. do they even know you’re courting them?”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

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koolades-world · 1 year

Text

More Obey me! Headcannons

had so much fun last time I wanted to do it again

Satan is so smart, but has issues doing basic math and refuses to admit it, like he can’t figure out fifteen plus seven without his fingers or a calculator (is this me projecting? maybe)

Belphie bought himself and Mc matching house slippers. Mc thought Beel felt left out and made Belphie buy a pair for him too

Beel has a huge green thumb, and takes upon himself to save plants he thinks are sad or lonely. He buys the dying plants from the store to bring back to life (partially inspired by the chat where someone, forgot who, told beel that if he talked to plants they would grow faster my precious baby)

Lucifer is the best cook at the HoL, but rarely has time to cook. Beel is the second best but usually eats the ingredients before he can make anything with them. Mammon is probably the worst because Levi can make food from animes almost perfectly

Asmo once almost set a store he was collaborating with on fire with his rage alone because they spelt his name wrong

Beel probably needs a new toothbrush every couple weeks. Belphie probably gets toothbrushes mixed up and uses ones that aren’t his

Lucifer and Solomon like prune juice haha old men

The one thing Luke and Simeon have seriously disagreed on is if raisins belong in dessert. Michael likes them, so Luke does too. Simeon thinks they’re awful but never directly says it, so Lucifer usually says it for him

Despite always being online, Levi had not once checked his RAD email. He has 9,999+ emails, probably a lot more because 9,999 is where it stops counting

Mammon collects cool rocks and keeps them in a box under his bed

Satan’s hands are always freezing, so he sticks them under Mc (or a cat) when possible, or uses a charmed hot water bottle from Solomon that stays warm for days at a time

Solomon and Asmo have had matching bracelet sets for as long as they’ve known each other, and since they didn’t make them anymore, they got some custom done for Mc so they could also have them

For about 1,000 years, Thirteen though jelly beans were an actual kind of bean and Solomon never let her let it go

The first food Mc and Mammon ate on a date in the human world together was Taiyaki, so he made it a point to learn how to make them to surprise Mc (even though he’s a terrible cook) (I might make this a fic since I like this idea so much)

Diavolo has always wanted a Devildom version of a hamster but Barbatos refused to have any kind of rodent in the castle, rat or not

Luke probably downloads those stupid app games with the ads unironically

Satan’s favorite Disney Princess is Ariel because she ran off to do what she wanted without caring what her father thought, it’s giving daddy issues. He’s probably considered running off and marrying Mephisto to make Lucifer angry

Raphael unironically enjoys off brand chips and soda

Lucifer is a nail biter, and Asmo is helping him curve the habit by putting a nasty tasting top coat when he does his nails, and it’s also why he wears gloves all the time.

Belphie and Satan once went up to the humans world together to mess with people in Salem, Massachusetts with magic, which spawned several conspiracy theory books. They read them together and laugh as a past time

Diavolo once went to the human world in his demon form for,, reasons, and accidentally got written into ancient mythology because he got spotted by humans

Barbatos had a home garden for cooking and sometimes lets Asmo have leaves from some of the plants to make homemade skin care products

Mammon probably has lots of earwax. Don’t share your earbuds with him unless you make him clean them afterwards

Belphie has a really large water bottle that’s always on his side table. He wakes up randomly though the night, chugs an ungodly amount of water and then passed out again. In the mornings he has to piss really bad but is too lazy to get up and actually do it, so he just sits and complains. Even Beel isn’t sure how he’s able to drink that much water in a short amount of time

Satan likes waking up early to enjoy the morning air and read outside for a while since mornings can get hectic with his brothers

Thirteen’s favorite torture device is the Iron Maiden. She had her own that she bedazzled. Even Asmo is jealous and wants her to make him one too

Mammon introduced Diavolo to Gatorade, and instead of sneaking behind Lucifer and Barbatos’s backs to drink Demonus, they have secret Gatorade meetings

Diavolo and Lucifer definitely both had a hidden Dialuci stash of things and probably clash trying to collect limited edition things online

None of the Obey me cast took birthdays or passing of years seriously until Mc entered the picture and suddenly time was precious, and they actually kept track. Because of this, nobody is really sure how old the twins are

Mephisto thinks roosters want world domination

Asmo thinks cilantro tastes like soap and Levi thinks anything cola flavored tastes like cough medicine

Mammon's favorite party trick is one Mc taught him, which is rolling his tongue Everyone he meets, including his brothers, thinks it's so cool when really it's just a genetic thing

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mandos-mind-trick · 1 year

Text

Warm Me Up

Summary: A freak storm has you and Hunter seeking shelter in a cave. The desperation to get warm has some hidden feelings coming to light.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, confession of feelings, snow storms, almost freezing to death (not really but close), hypothermia, survival skills, cuddling for warmth, fucking to survive, cock warming (literally and figuratively), post Order 66, bit of an AU

A/N: I am once again bringing you Hunter and reader fucking to survive only under different circumstances. I have been in a Hunter mood lately so you are welcome.

Thank you @starrylothcat for the idea for this one.

MASTERLIST

It’s cold.

The wind whips around you, finding every crack and crevice in your armor, numbing your skin. The storm had blown in out of nowhere, whipping big, wet snowflakes at you on a wind so strong it was hard to stand up straight. It’s a near whiteout, and even Hunter is struggling to break trail in front of you.

He stops, turning to look at you a couple feet behind him, half to make sure you’re still following him. “There’s a cave up ahead.” He says, voice barely audible over the wind through the comms.

Your fingers are going numb. You’d lost feeling in your feet not long after the storm started, already having been trekking through ankle deep snow. “Lead the way, Sarge.” You mumble, trying to convince your legs to start moving again.

It’s slow moving for the few hundred yards until you see the mountainside jutting out in the blizzard. As you get closer, you can see the dark opening of the mouth of the cave like a monster waiting to devour you. You hope that’s not the case, but you suppose a monster’s mouth would be warmer than out here.

You follow Hunter inside, the torch in his hand illuminating the small cavern. It’s not very wide, your shoulders would probably touch the walls if you stood side by side, but it’s deep enough to keep you from the howling wind outside.

You’re shivering, teeth chattering as you stand in the dark cave. The storm was blocking your comms, preventing you from reaching the Marauder. This was supposed to be a quick mission, which was why you and Hunter had gone alone, leaving the others with the ship. Tech had assured you both the weather was going to be clear for the foreseeable future.

You’re going to have words with him when you get back.

“Kriff, it’s cold.” Hunter says, scanning the back of the cave before determining it clear.

He turns back around, his torch illuminating your shivering figure. Neither of you had real cold weather gear, and Hunter’s armor was better protection against it than yours.

“How are your toes?” He asks, stepping closer.

“Numb.” You say, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around your face.

“And your fingers?” He asks.

You lift your hands, fingers fumbling in an attempt to get your gloves off. He shines the torch on your exposed extremities as soon as they hit the floor, a curse crackling through his helmet. Your fingers are discolored and stiff, trembling as more shivers wrack your body.

“We need to get warm.” He says, pulling you back towards the back of the cave. “We won’t last the night at this rate.”

“H-How do we do that?” You stutter out between your chattering teeth. You were both ill prepared for this situation.

“Take your clothes off.”

You’re glad the cave is dark as the words leave Hunter’s mouth, the torch pointing at the wall as he removes his pack. You’re worried you may start steaming in embarrassment from the direct order.

You’ve been harboring a crush on him for a while. It started during one of your first missions with them. Of course, you thought he was handsome when you first met him, but you didn’t start developing feelings until he saved your life. You were relatively new to combat, though fighting wasn’t anything new, and you had failed to see the explosive at your feet. Hunter had pulled you out of the way and shielded you with his body.

He’d had his helmet on, but you couldn’t forget the way his hand felt on your arm, the way he looked hovering over you. You thought about it a lot. You still do.

You had fallen in love with him after the war ended, and he had willingly gone toe-to-toe with Tarkin to keep you on the squad. Tarkin had wanted to reassign you, but Hunter had insisted you were part of Clone Force 99 and they wouldn’t be as efficient without you.

You hadn’t dared act on it, though. He was technically your superior and you were not about to try pushing those boundaries. Plus, he’d never shown any interest in you in that way, and the last thing you wanted was to do was make things awkward.

You also just haven’t had time.

Between the Empire and deserting and being on the run and adjusting to having a literal child on board, you had little downtime for much else. You know Hunter’s stressed and has been feeling the effects of trying to keep everyone alive and deciding what to do next.

The last thing you want to do is throw your feelings on him too.

And now here he is, asking you to get naked in a cave with him.

“What?” You stutter out, looking up at him, his face barely visible. He’s removed his helmet.

“Our clothes are wet. We can’t get warm wearing wet clothes. We’ll risk hypothermia, or worse.” He explains, his helmet hitting the ground with a thud. “Seeing as how we don’t know how long this storm will last and if we’ll be able to reach the Marauder by comm when it does end, getting warm is our priority.”

His voice is so steady, so strong, reflecting every bit of the leader he is.

This is moving much faster than you had expected. You’d thought maybe a nice dinner, or a walk on the beach, at least something before your clothes started coming off. Of course, survival was different. You would like to keep your toes if possible.

Your numb fingers fumble to get your pack off as Hunter turns his back, digging through his pack. You’re glad for the darkness and the privacy as you tug at your own armor, fingers fumbling with clasps and straps as you slowly drop pieces onto the ground.

You pause as Hunter turns slightly, putting something on the floor. The cave lights with a soft yellow glow of a heat lamp, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth. So you weren’t going to freeze completely. The walls of the cave glitter with frost, your breath visible in the air as you continue to strip out of your armor.

You hesitate once your armor is off, staring at Hunter’s back. He’s making slow work of his armor, setting each piece in a pile next to his pack. You’ve watched them carefully stack their armor over and over. They always show it such reverence, though you suppose if it is your lifeline and one of your few belongings, you would treat it as such too. They always stack it in a way that would be quickest to get it back on and you can’t help but wonder if they practiced it. How fast can they get in and out of their armor if the need arose?

You bend over your pack, fumbling through its contents before your fingers hit what you’re looking for. One of the spare GAR blankets that came in each survival kit the squad carried. Working separate from larger battalions meant you had to carry more supplies with you for situations like this one.

You could cry as you pull the scratchy blanket from your pack.

You would cry, except that it feels like all liquid is frozen in your body.

You hesitate, eyeing Hunter’s back before you begin peeling your wet blacks off, goosebumps forming on your skin as it's exposed to the cold air in the cave. You fight off a shiver, shuffling closer to the heat lamp as you peel the rest off. You quickly wrap the blanket around your body, squatting down in front of the heat lamp. You can already feel the warmth from them on your exposed skin, toes starting to tingle.

Your eyes move to Hunter, his back still turned to you. You swallow thickly as he tugs the top of his blacks over his head, revealing his back. Your eyes trail the tattoo on the right side until it disappears under his blacks. You’ve seen them all in various states of undress before. It was impossible in a confined space like the barracks or the Marauder.

There had never been any insinuation, no lingering stares when you’d done a quick change. They were always so respectful, always so kind.

You felt bad for ogling them sometimes.

You quickly tuck your face in the blanket as Hunter tugs his pants down, praying you don’t start steaming. You want to look, you so badly want to look, but the last thing you need is to get caught being a creep.

Hunter moves closer to you, spreading something on the ground behind you. You nearly jump as his hand touches your back, warm through the blanket against your cold skin. He’s squatting next to you, very close to you as you peek out from your blanket.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, those stupid big, brown eyes shining in the low light from the heat lamp.

You stare at him for a moment before you nod. He pulls the blanket from the death grip you have around it, eyes never leaving yours as he opens it up, slipping his arms inside. His bare skin meets yours, turning you until your back is to his chest. He maneuvers you so easily so you’re laying on the blanket he had spread on the ground, curling his body around yours before draping your blanket across you both.

He sighs as he settles into place, his hand trailing down your arm. His hand is calloused from years of hard training, rough against your frigid skin. “Kriff, you’re freezing.” He murmurs, pulling you tighter against his chest.

Your breath hitches as his skin meets yours, cold but not nearly as frozen as yours. You can feel every ridge of muscle, every line, every divot of his body. You can feel all of him. You try not to think about it, try not to picture every fantasy you’ve had, every daydream of being in this very position with him.

Instead you focus on your shivering, the chill slowly abating as your shared warmth cumulates under the blanket. You can feel the heat lamp on your face, slowly thawing your frozen cheeks. You can also feel Hunter’s breath fanning over the top of your head.

You let your eyes drift closed, trying to avoid the thoughts racing through your head. You’re naked. Hunter’s naked. You’re very, very close. You’ve imagined this moment many, many times. Of course, it’s always under different circumstances. Normally in your fantasies, he’d hold you like this after you fucked, or on those short trips between missions when you try to get as much rest as possible. In the deeper fantasies you wake in his arms in your quiet home, the early morning light shining through the window. You’d grind against him, teasing him until he slipped inside you, making sweet love to you as you have all the time in the world, and no cares whatsoever.

Heat begins to bloom in your belly. You know it’s not just from the warmth beginning to return to you. You desperately fight it, trying to ignore the pulsing between your legs and instead focus on the roaring of the wind outside the cave, the painful throbbing in your toes, the scratchiness of the blanket, anything.

Hunter shifts just slightly behind you, letting out a long breath. Kriff, he can probably smell it. He could probably smell it before your body even started reacting. He knows. He knows.

You shift slightly, ignoring the way your thighs slide a little too easily against each other. “Sorry.” You breathe, nervously tugging on the edge of the blanket.

He hums, his fingers trailing down your front. He presses his palm against your belly, causing your breath to hitch. He shifts his legs and suddenly there’s something pressing against your ass. Something hard. “Nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.” He murmurs in your ear, his voice so low and deep you can feel it vibrating through your back.

"Hunter?" You ask, staring at the heat lamp.

He hums, pressing closer to you, his breath fanning your ear.

Your breath catches in your throat, your exhale shaky. "I'm still cold. Could you warm me up a little more?"

His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you firmly against him as his lips meet the skin of your neck. He kisses a line from your ear to the junction of your shoulder, the hand that had been planted on your stomach slowly sliding lower. It slips between your thighs, grabbing one and lifting it over his hip. Your hands cling to the arm wrapped around you as he slides his fingers down your inner thigh. Your body is shivering for a different reason now.

You gasp quietly as his fingers trail over your wet slit, hips pushing into his hand. It’s so much better than your fantasies, those dexterous fingers flicking over your clit.

“All this just for me?” He murmurs in your ear, his voice low and rough.

“Yes,” You gasp, nails biting into his skin as he works you up. “Been thinking of this for a long time.”

“I know.” He says, sinking a finger into you. “I could sense it. At first I could smell it. I always wondered what you were thinking about.” He slips a second finger into you. “Didn’t take long to figure it out.” He kisses the side of your head. “Your heart rate would jump. Sometimes I’d smell it while you were looking at me. I was flattered. A gorgeous woman like you thinking about me like that.”

You wiggle in his arms, just enough so you can see his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He pauses his movements, his fingers stilling inside you. “Didn’t want to complicate things. Then everything happened with the Empire and I just haven’t had the right moment.”

“Fair.” You say, eyes dropping to his lips. “Not a whole lot of places to do things like this in the ship.”

He grins. “No, especially not with the others there.” His thumb brushes over your clit, fingers starting to thrust into you once more. “I’m going to find us a safe place to stay.” He says, words broken by kisses as he trails them up your neck. “Build us a home with lots of privacy.” He kisses across your face to the corner of your lips. “So we can do this whenever we want.”

You hum, backing away from his lips before he can kiss you. “Usually I require a date first, but I’ll make an exception.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He says, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “I promise.”

You close the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you softly, lips slightly chapped from the cold. His fingers continue to move inside you, curling to find that spot that has your legs shaking. His thumb circles your clit, bringing you closer and closer to sweet release.

You whine against his lips as you cum around his fingers, soaking his hand with your release. He pulls away from your lips, withdrawing his hand before he lifts his fingers, taking them into his mouth. You watch, slack-jawed as he sucks his fingers clean.

“Fuck buying me dinner,” You say, rolling around to face him. “If you’re gonna act like that you can skip all those steps.”

He laughs, rolling on top of you. It’s a mirror of the moment you first began to have feelings, when he’d saved your life. You suppose he also saved your life again in this situation. Perhaps he needs to save your life more often if it’s going to end with him on top of you.

He lowers himself down, pressing his lips to yours once more. You kiss him hard, tangling a hand in his hair. You’ve always wanted to touch it, always wanted to run your fingers through it, pull on it to see if it makes him moan. You file that away for another day.

He’s hard, pressed against your stomach. His hips rock against you, dragging his cock along your skin. You slide your hands down his back, grabbing a handful of his ass. You’ve always wanted to grab it, having spent way too much time memorizing the shape of his body. His broad shoulders and thin waist and round ass and thick thighs.

He really is the perfect man.

“Fuck,” He moans, pulling away from your lips to press himself up.

He’s away just long enough to line his cock up, your legs parting even wider for him. You both moan as he sinks into you, your sensitive walls fluttering around the intrusion. You pull him back against you, securing him tightly to your chest. His lips find yours again, kissing and biting as he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow, working you open for him. It feels better than you could ever imagine, better than your fantasies could come up with. You’re no longer cold, even your toes warmed by his body and his touch. The air in the cave even feels warm, the blizzard outside nothing compared to the fire ignited beneath your skin at Hunter’s touch.

You move your hips as he picks up speed, your bodies moving fluidly together. You let go, moaning as loud as you can. You don’t care if you accidentally wake some beast deep in the mountains. You want the whole galaxy to know how good Hunter makes you feel.

Hunter grunts and moans above you, snapping his hips into you. You cling onto him as you begin to feel the burning low in your stomach, the coil tightening more and more as you get closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me.” Hunter growls, nipping at your lower lip. “Let me feel you.”

You cry out his name as you cum, back arching in pleasure. He’s not far behind you, his head falling back as he stutters to a stop, filling you with his cum. You let him fall on top of you, wrapping your arms around him.

He lays there, both of you catching your breaths. He’s heavy, a solid weight, but you don’t complain. He’s warm, and he makes you feel safe. He kisses your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty skin. He groans, already starting to go hard inside you again.

***

You wake to a bright light in your eyes. You squint, ducking your head down under the blanket. Hunter groans, shifting his arms around you. It’s quiet outside, far quieter than it had been last night.

“Storms over.” Hunter rasps, not making any attempt to move.

He’s still inside you, his softened cock tucked inside your pussy. You’d fallen asleep after the third round, the exhaustion finally taking over after you were thoroughly warmed. You don’t really want to get up. You don’t really want to move. You know the others have to be worried, after all you hadn’t been able to contact them after the storm blew in. You’re not even sure how far you are from the Marauder.

It may be a bit selfish, but you wish you could stay here. Build yourselves a tiny home in this cave and never leave. Just the two of you, alone, like your fantasies had once consisted of.

You know it’s not possible now. You couldn’t abandon the others like that, and you could never convince Hunter to abandon Omega, not that you would ever want to. You’ll just have to find a place to build a big enough house for all of you.

“We should get up.” Hunter says, still not making any attempts to move. “The others will be worried.”

You hum, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Five more minutes?”

He chuckles, lifting your chin so he can kiss you. “I suppose five minutes won’t hurt anything.”

Taglist:

@rosechi @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @wolffegirlsunite @jedi-hawkins @sinfulsalutations @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @clio3kantarella @eris-k @thorsterstrudle @idontgetanysleep @anxiouspineapple99 @clonemedickix @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @blueink-bluesoul @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @thrawnspetgoose @originalcollectionartistry @gwalchmai2970 @maddiedrmr @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

#star wars #star wars fic #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #tbb hunter x reader #bad batch hunter x reader #x reader #clone thirsting

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saulocept · 2 years

Text

come pour yourself all over me

pairing: sebastian sallow/reader/ominis gaunt [poly]

rating: g

summary: Maybe you’ll learn your lesson this time and remember not to forget your gloves. Or maybe you won’t. Sometimes the alternative is just better.

notes: someone actually asked to see the poly fic, so it’s here! i didn’t use the prompt they sent, but i’m grateful anyway. i might actually work on it the next if i have the time and inspiration, so this is for u lovely anon - you know who u r! lots of liberties taken in here, so apologies in advance.

also: no more love triangles! we each have two hands so we intend to use it!

You’ve made a mistake, a grave one, though it’s something you’ll only realize much later, when everything’s far too late to take back. Okay, so maybe you’re exaggerating a little, but there’s so much going on already it’s hard to think straight. You’re already running late as it is, and you’re not even sure you’ll make it long enough to live through the consequences. Still, now that you think about it, it’s better this way, to be honest.

You huff out a quiet sigh, leaning back against your seat, wondering if you’ll still make it in time if you run back to your mother’s house and grab everything you’d left behind. You know it wouldn’t work, not really; you’re already halfway through your destination, closer to the end goal than the starting line. It would be a greater waste of time to go back; you know this, of course, but it doesn’t stop you from wishing, anyway, thinking about all the possibilities, the different kinds of outcomes that could still happen.

You aren’t going to be the only one who’s late; it’s a natural occurrence, after all, something you can’t really stop or control, but even the thought of it doesn’t seem as comforting as you’d initially thought. You don’t want to be late, period, not when you’ve spent all this time being a model student and bringing honor to your house.

In retrospect, though, that feels like a very small thing to be hung up on, especially when you’ve got a much bigger thing to worry about. Like having freezing hands, for example. Or maybe dying from the cold.

Still, there’s not much you can do about it now. The train ride doesn’t stop for anyone, and even if it could, where else would you go? Your mother’s house is too far away now, and you’ve not been here in this place long enough that you’d know every nook and cranny, every possible shortcut there is to discover.

You breathe out another sigh, turning your head to glance at the windows outside. Whatever. It’s not like anyone’s ever died from frozen hands. Or maybe someone had and you just haven’t heard of it yet. Maybe you’ll even be the first to find out. Not that it matters anymore.

The train glides into a slow stop, and you see now that you’ve finally arrived. Breathing out a sigh (and accepting your inevitable demise), you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat, then slowly make your way to the glass doors, exiting the vehicle.

It’s not nearly as crowded today, which makes everything a little easier. Small victories, you think, breathing out a sigh of relief as your feet finally meet the snow-packed ground. Not quite a victory, though, because now the hardest part of your journey begins.

It’s a struggle; it’s too cold out, and even through the layers of your clothes, you can still feel the chill. Still, you press on, putting one foot forward, knowing that you don’t have much of a choice in this. You’re not that far from the school now, and though normally, you wouldn’t have minded the walk, thinking of it as an opportunity to acquaint yourselves with your surroundings, now it just feels like torture.

At this point, you’re just trying to survive. Your teeth chatter, and the freezing wind beats at your back, but you ignore it, focusing instead on your surroundings, making up stories about the shops and buildings you occasionally pass by to distract yourself.

You pause for a second, rub your palms together, pressing them against your cheeks in an attempt to keep warm. It barely works; you’re still cold all over, nearly ten seconds away from freezing to death, and somehow, the school seems even farther than ever. Has it always been like this or is it only because you’re almost dying?

Your hands are growing number, colder, and you flex your fingers a little, just to see if they still work. They do. Good. Time to move on. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to shiver. You’re almost there, you tell yourself, just to cheer yourself up, have something to look forward to. You’re not sure if it’s true, but you have to believe it is.

The sound of your name stops you in your tracks, and for a second, you wonder if you’re just making it up, hallucinating. Are you having flashbacks now, reliving a life that’s long lost? You reach up, pinch your cheek. It still feels warm enough, more than your hands at least, so that must mean you’re still alive.

Ready to dismiss everything as a product of your imagination, you press on once more, curling your arms around yourself and hissing. There it is again – the sound of your name, coming from somewhere behind you. Frowning, you quickly turn your head, spotting a familiar pair of faces a few feet away from you.

You raise a hand, wave at them, unable to stop yourself from smiling. Quickly, you jog over to where they are, stopping as soon as you’re in front of them. “Ominis, Sebastian,” you say, shoving your hands back in your pockets as you give each of them a nod. Somehow, the sight of them feels comforting, and you can’t help but beam at them. “You’re both late, too.”

Ominis nudges Sebastian’s foot with his shoe. “Someone,” he begins, glaring at his companion for emphasis, “actually forgot to wake on time.”

Sebastian shrugs, then turns to face you, smiling playfully as he gives you a quick onceover. “Clearly I wasn’t the only one.”

“You forgot to set an alarm, too?”

He looks confused for a second, like he doesn’t quite understand, then quickly shakes his head. “No,” he replies. There’s a thoughtful pause that follows, like he’s trying to decide what he should tell you. “We got too caught up in our experiments and lost track of the time.”

You raise a curious brow, inviting him to elaborate, but he only shrugs at you, smiling again. It’s a different kind this time: vague and tiny, not quite reaching his eyes. Almost distant. You’ve been a part of his “experiments” before – which is really just an elaborate term to say that they’ve been learning more of the dark arts spells – so there’s no reason for him to keep this as a secret from you.

Still, you don’t press him for details; you figure that he’ll just tell you all about it when he’s ready, and all you have to do is to just give him time.

“Okay,” you say, reaching out to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder. He relaxes beneath your touch, all the tension from his body disappearing all at once. “But you’ll tell me all about it later?”

“Of course.” The answer’s quick, given without hesitation. He looks up to meet your eyes, then gives you another smile. Warm, genuine – not likes the ones you’re used to. Even now, the sight of it is quick to turn you into a mush. Here, his voice has grown softer, fonder, like he’s telling you a secret – something that’s meant only for you. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

Ominis nudges his foot once more, frowning. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh!” Sebastian clears his throat, then opens his mouth to try again. “Of course—” he pauses, casts a quick glance at his companion, then turns to look at you again: a twinkle in his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips: “We wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. Already, the day seems to be looking up for you. “Much better.”

There’s a moment of silence between the three of you, slightly awkward. There isn’t much to say after that, you know, nothing else except for the fact that all three of you are already even running later than ever, but before you could even get the words out, Sebastian’s cutting you off, staring at you with an obvious frown.

“You’re not wearing any gloves.” It’s a statement more than a question, and it’s making you nervous somehow, even if you can’t quite tell why. You cast a glance at Ominis, who now has his head turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. You know he can’t see you, not really, but still; having both their attention already feels too much, too overwhelming.

“I forgot them,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to another as you try to affect a lighter tone. Now that you’re saying it out loud, it really doesn’t feel like a big deal. Okay, so you forgot your gloves at home and you don’t have the time to think about replacing them. Who cares? At this point, there’s a bigger thing to worry about, like not being extra late to your first class.

This time, it’s Ominis who speaks. “You didn’t think to come back for them?” he asks, still frowning. There’s no sharpness to his voice, only worry, genuine enough to make you feel guilty. “You could die from the cold, you know.”

“I didn’t want to be late,” you explain, like it would somehow justify your earlier stupidity. You know, it wouldn’t, not really, but it’s not like you can think up of a better excuse. The truth’s all you’ve got, and it sounds even more ridiculous than the lies you usually come up with. “I only realized it when I was halfway through the ride, so I just figured coming back wouldn’t be worth it.”

This time, it’s Sebastian’s turn to speak. “I suppose they wouldn’t have called you a model student for nothing,” he remarks, snorting in amusement. You give him a glare in response; Ominis elbows him in the side, chiding, though Sebastian only laughs, turns his focus back on you. “Alright. Let me see your hands.”

It’s an easy enough request to grant. You take your hands out of your pockets, then gingerly present it to him for inspection. Gently, he takes one hand into his, turns it this way and that, frowning as he looks up at you again. “You’re freezing. How long have you been walking in here again?”

“Er, a few minutes, I think?” you reply. He gives you a disbelieving look, and you bite your lower lip, hurrying to explain, “I figured I could just get warm as soon as I’m back at school, you know, so I was trying to hurry.”

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, then shakes his head and sighs, seemingly exasperated. “I can’t believe you.”

You frown at him. “It’s not like I—”

“Here,” Ominis steps forward in your direction, interrupting whatever argument’s brewing between you and his companion. “Let me see.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. Blindly, he reaches for your hands, takes both of them in his. He frowns, though he doesn’t say anything else. Gently, he rubs his hands against yours, then presses them against his cheek – the same thing you did before, you note, though he’s warmer. Softer.

“There,” he says after a moment. He’s still not letting go of your hands, though his grip is a little looser now – something you can slip away from if you so much as you want to. But he’s warm, and he’s soft, gently tracing circles all over your skin. A gesture of comfort, you think. Or maybe some other form of reassurance – a reminder of his presence, warm and stalwart. You’re not sure what it means, but it doesn’t mean you want him to stop. He looks up at you then, smiling a little, “A little better now, I hope.”

“Thank you,” you reply, and your voice is thick with emotion. You’re almost certain he could hear the smile in your voice, how you’re beaming at him so widely you look ridiculous.

“Of course.” He nods; if he’s ever noticed that, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he squeezes your hand gently. You watch as his smile widens just a little, turns into something teasing. You’re still wondering what any of this means when he casts a glance at his companion, then turns to you as he adds an afterthought: “Aren’t you glad I’m here to save the day?”

Sebastian kicks him lightly in the ankle – more of a warning than a threat, and he rolls his eyes, laughing. “Alright,” he concedes, the smile still on his lips, prettier than ever, “We. Even though I’m doing most of the work.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes in response, though he marches over to you, reaching out to grab your other hand in his. His grip is much firmer, like he’s got no intention of letting you go soon. His touch is warm, though it’s a different kind; more like wildfire: harsh and burning, as opposed to Ominis’s campfire: gentle, cozy. Still, it’s not entirely unwelcome.

“You’re not doing most of the work,” he protests, imitating Ominis’s actions: tracing circles along your skin, vague patterns that seem more like magical symbols than anything. There’s a certain roughness to the way he does it, likely brought on by his frustration, and upon realizing what he’s doing, he pauses for a second, then goes slower, gentler. He looks up and meet your eyes, giving you a sheepish smile – a quiet apology, you’re sure of it. You nod, smile back at him in response, then squeeze his hand. All’s easily forgiven when you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you in the first place. He squeezes back, grateful, then turns his attention back on Ominis. “See?”

Ominis only laughs in response, shaking his head. “I hope you know that we’re even later now because of your antics, Sebastian.”

“You’re as much to blame in this as I am,” Sebastian grumbles, giving his companion a glare. Ominis, however, remains completely unfazed.

He shakes his head again, then turns to face you. “Come on,” he says, tugging at your wrist. He pulls you toward the direction of the school: one hand on his wand, the other still holding yours, tracing absent circles along the inside of your wrist. “Let’s go. Or we’re going to be really late.”

You nod, and the two of you follow after him, the both of them still holding your hands, with no intention of letting go. Huh. Somehow, you don’t seem to mind this at all. -

It’s quiet for the longest time, until Sebastian turns to you, saying your name. He looks thoughtful.

“Hey,” he says. You give him a curious look, waiting. His voice has gone oddly soft, conspiratorial, and you can’t help but feel a little suspicious. What is he up to this time? “I was just wondering—” here, he pauses, lets his words sink in – “Why didn’t you just use a spell to keep warm?”

You feel your cheeks heating up. On the other side of you, you hear a familiar snicker: quiet, subdued; it’s still obvious, anyway, and it only serves to make you even more embarrassed. You narrow your eyes, glare at him, ready to just melt into the ground and disappear. “Shut up.”

He only smirks at you in return.

#renwrites #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader

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etrsilk · 2 months

Note

hi!!<3 I hope ur having a good day/night!!

ur wrighting is soo amazing and I was wondering if you could to the main 4 with a reader whose constantly like freezing cold ?:>

I know it's a lil silly and u don't have to do this is u don't wanna, sorry if this is confusing!!

𝐖𝐖𝐖.𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

₊✩‧₊˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ⇝ 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: 𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘢,𝘎𝘰𝘯,𝘒𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘢,𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 — ✘

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

⎝ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚:: First of all thank you very much!ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ ♡ first of all thank you very much! here is your request I hope you like it!

—𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

➘ Killua loves to tease you, and it has even become a sort of running joke between you two. He finds it amusing how you can always be so cold, even when it’s 40°C. However, he sees it as an opportunity to be romantic, so he doesn’t really mind it.

➘ He always makes sure you have a way to stay warm. Once, he gave you hand warmers, insisting that you always carry them with you, especially when he’s not around, so he can have “peace of mind.”

➘ When he can’t provide you with a way to warm up, he takes your hand in his and tells you stories to distract you from the cold. It’s his way of comforting you and making you forget about the freezing temperatures.

➘ Killua always thinks ahead, making sure to bring scarves, coats, or gloves for you. And if by chance neither of you remembered, he would obviously sacrifice himself by giving you his coat. He constantly ensures your comfort, even at the expense of his own.

—𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐊𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

➘ At first, he didn’t immediately notice how extremely sensitive you are to the cold. But once he did, he became quite concerned about it. He needs to know that you’re always okay, and even though he realizes he might take it too seriously, he simply can’t help himself.

➘ Over time and out of habit, he instantly realizes when you’re even a little bit cold. No matter what you say, he will always insist that you take his sweater or jacket because “you need it more than I do.”

➘ When he sees you shivering, he gently takes your head and rests it against his chest, then wraps you in a warm hug until you stop trembling. These moments of tenderness are precious and comforting.

➘ He loves surprising you with gloves, coats, or scarves that he finds beautiful. You now have quite a collection of these accessories, each one carefully chosen by him.

➘ It’s even possible that you’ve pretended to shiver just so he would take care of you… but it’s okay, we forgive and understand you completely.

—𝐆𝐎𝐍ꫂ ၴႅၴ

➘ Like Kurapika, it takes him a bit of time to understand that you’re always cold, but over time, he gets better at noticing and attending to your needs.

➘ When Gon notices that you’re cold, he does everything he can to warm you up. He might give you his jacket, hold you in his arms, prepare warm drinks, or try to distract you with all sorts of activities.

➘ He often uses romantic methods to help you warm up. For instance, he might insist that you do some physical activity, like running, saying that “moving helps to warm up.”

➘ Even though Gon can be a bit scatterbrained, he always tries to remember to bring warm clothes for you. He even bought you hand warmers and insists that you carry them with you all the time.

➘ He loves taking your hands in his, rubbing them gently, kissing them, or slipping them into his pocket to warm you up. These small, thoughtful gestures show how much he cares about you and wants you to be comfortable.

—𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎ꫂ ၴႅၴ

➘ Even if you tell him otherwise, he quickly realizes that you are freezing and does everything he can to relieve and warm you up.

➘ As a doctor, Leorio once wondered if you had some kind of pathology or illness, but no, you’re just excessively sensitive to the cold. This makes him smile and even more determined to take care of you.

➘ In your work bag, he always slips in hand warmers and gloves, knowing how forgetful you can be. He wants to make sure you’re well-equipped to face the cold, even when he’s not there to watch over you.

➘ He often uses your extreme sensitivity to the cold as an excuse to be as close to you as possible. He loves to snuggle, hug, and caress you, always finding ways to keep you warm while enjoying tender moments together.

—English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!!

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primaviva · 1 year

Text

PERSONAL HEATER

PAIRING: gwen stacy x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: it’s getting a little cold in queens, and gwen doesn’t mind being your personal heater. even tho her methods are… unique.

WARNINGS: soft makeout, rambling about gwens hands part ??? pretty much just fluff so enjoy.

the weather was transitioning into fall, bringing a noticeable chill to the air. you and gwen found yourselves perched atop a building, observing the sky as it transformed from a warm orange hue to a deep indigo during the sunset. the past week had been marked by relentless rain, causing flash floods and heavy downpours throughout the city. everyone was equipped with boots and oversized umbrellas, their clothes drenched from the constant showers.

don’t get it twisted, you love this type of weather. watching the rain out the window, getting comfy and cozy under a blanket watching a fall movie, and so on. but it did have its cons.

like for one, how cold it is.

but that didn’t stop you from enjoying the weather, and gwen knew that. and so, she sent you a text, telling you to be ready and that she was coming over. what you didn’t expect was for ghost-spider to be outside your window with a hand out for you.

and that’s how you ended up where you are now. gwen had taken you to one of her favorite high places in queens— a place she also knew you enjoyed which is why she loved to take you so many times. especially, during times like this where the weather was breathtaking in its own beautiful way.

as a gentle breeze sent shivers down your spine, goosebumps formed on your arms, causing your skin to grow cold. you instinctively rubbed your arms in an attempt to generate some warmth, catching gwen's attention.

"feeling cold?" gwen asked sweetly, noticing your discomfort. she gracefully slid her toned arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her. her hands began to rub your arms in a comforting motion, enveloping you in her soothing warmth. "you're freezing," she whispered against your skin, planting a tender kiss on your cheek. the touch of her lips sent a delightful tingling sensation through your body, contrasting with the chill in the air. "you shouldn't have dressed up in just a skirt and that sad excuse of a sweater."

your eyebrows furrowed, annoyance flickering in your gaze as you shot her a playful glare in response to her comment about your outfit.

"hey!" you quipped, turning your head to face her, ready to offer a witty retort. however, the raised eyebrow she flashed at you caused your irritation to melt away, replacing it with a giggle. "i wore this skirt for you, so i’m not tryna hear it," you playfully declared, turning your gaze forward and playfully tugging at your skirt. "but now, i'm starting to regret it. my legs feel like those icicles hanging from car mirrors."

as you leaned against gwen, you could feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back, her body pressed intimately against yours. the breeze outside was chilly but gwen's body was anything but.

a mischievous glint danced in gwen's eyes as she pulled you even closer, burying her face in your shoulder. "for me?" she asked, her voice laced with playfulness. "why would you even regret wearing that skirt? you look so pretty in it."

blushing, you instinctively covered your cheeks in an attempt to hide your flustered state.

"i know," you replied, a hint of newfound confidence in your voice, though your veins pulsed with nervous energy at her compliment. "but it doesn't make my legs any less cold."

gwen smiled to herself without offering a direct response. instead, she reached for the end of her white gloves, seamlessly blending with her spider suit, and pulled them down to the edge of her fingertips. you watched in awe as her hands, slightly larger than yours, were unveiled. you couldn't deny that her hands were a mesmerizing sight. the contrast in size between your hands due to your height difference fascinated you. you also found yourself captivated by the delicate web of visible veins and the gentle calluses on her fingers, which added a touch of personality and undeniable attractiveness. especially considering you were the girlfriend of a drummer.

"maybe i should warm them up," gwen winked, her gaze filled with a playful suggestion. she placed her hands on your legs, and your eyes widened as you felt the warmth of her palms against your skin. you were beginning to feel like a melting popsicle.

gwen's hands glided up and down your legs, generating heat through the gentle friction of her touch. each slow and tender stroke sent shivers down your spine, making it difficult to focus on anything other than the sensation of her calloused fingertips and the delightful stirrings they made you feel.

"that's... that's actually working," you mumbled, your gaze fixated on her hands as they caressed your thighs, leaving a trail of penetrating warmth with each stroke. "feels nice."

"it does?" gwen asked, genuine surprise evident in her voice. she made no effort to conceal her pleased demeanor as she continued to stroke your thighs. each movement was deliberate and firm, her fingers teasing the sensitive flesh of your skin with every caress. unable to resist, you tilted your head to the side, leaning against her to draw closer.

you lifted your head, meeting gwen's gaze in surprise. her eyes locked onto yours as she continued lazily rubbing your thighs, taking in your beauty with an appreciative gaze. her hair cascaded in a messy yet enchanting manner, the short strands framing her face and making her watercolor eyes glow as they delved into your soul. a smile graced your lips, followed by an exhale that formed a white mist in the freezing weather.

gwen's gaze intensified, her eyes fixed on your full lips, captivated by your bottom lip gently pushed out. slowly, she leaned in, her warm hands gradually shifting away from your cold thighs as your bodies drew closer together.

with only centimeters between your lips, gwen's breath danced teasingly against yours, contrasting with the cold air that brushed against your exposed arms. as her attention shifted from your thighs to your lips, you held your breath, anticipation coursing through your veins, eager to discover her next move.

her hair cascaded over her shoulders as she smiled warmly, a mischievous smirk stretching across her face.

"don't worry," gwen assured you, her voice filled with confidence. "i've got an idea."

with boldness, she leaned forward, placing a hand behind your head, drawing your faces closer together. closing the remaining short distance, her lips gently met yours, initiating a tender yet passionate kiss.

gwen skillfully parted your lips with her tongue, delicately exploring your cold mouth, savoring the sweet yet familiar taste of your lips. her grip on the nape of your neck tightened, pulling you closer as she sensually sucked on your lower lip, causing a surge of warmth and desire to rush through your veins. her breath, warm against the chilled sensation inside your mouth, created an intoxicating contrast, yet you still instinctively rocked your body against hers.

the moment felt surreal, almost dream-like, as gwen's warmth enveloped you, sending waves of relief coursing through every fiber of your being. your heart raced within your chest, your breath quickened with each passing second, as you savored every exquisite second of gwen's soft lips against yours. your hands tenderly ran through her hair, taking in her beauty.

she continued to kiss you, pulling you even closer, melding you two together. the heat emanating from her body warmed you from head to toe, your heart pounding in your chest, and your breath quickening with each passing moment.

gwen released a satisfied sigh against your lips, causing the goosebumps on your legs to dissolve into a thrilling warmth. it felt as though you were melting under her touch. from your ankles to your thighs, and all the way up to your chest, a surge of heat and fire coursed through your wintry skin, extinguishing the chill.

reluctantly, gwen pulled away, leaving a faint imprint of her lips on yours. "better?" she asked you, her voice barely above a whisper.

"sooo much better," you managed to utter, your hands instinctively holding the sides of her face. your own face blazed with heat, contrasting with the cold breeze that brushed against your skin.

gwen tilted her head, her gaze fixed on your flushed cheeks, a slight blush gracing her own face. she felt a sense of pride for her bold actions, knowing the courage it took to lean in and initiate the whole thing.

"glad to be of service," she sighed, her eyes sparkling with joy. moving closer, she pressed your head against her chest, her fingers running through your hair.

there was something primal about her touch, something that made you feel safe and secure as she enveloped you. her warm skin pressed against your cold frame, leaving a trail of sultriness wherever her hands roamed. your lips curled into a smile as you looked up at her, appreciative of how observant and gentle she is with you.

"maybe we should head inside now?" gwen suggested, rubbing her hands together.

you scoffed, noticing that she, too, was affected by the cold. "yeah, it's getting late, and i'm not tryna die of hypothermia," you muttered.

gwen giggled before wrapping her arms around you, rubbing them against your body to generate as much heat as possible.

she then pulled back, slipping her white gloves back on. your eyes followed her movements as she adjusted her web slinger on her wrist, her long and slender fingers working meticulously. the blonde shot you a look, raising an eyebrow and tilting her mouth to the side, giving you the feeling she was about to do something you wouldn’t like too much.

"what?" you mouthed, a small laugh escaping your lips as you observed her mischievous expression.

however, gwen remained silent, her actions speaking louder than words. she scooped you up in her arms, holding you in a bridal embrace, and you gasped in surprise. pausing to gaze down at your face, a blush tinted her cheeks as she admired your beauty.

"i can't let my beautiful girlfriend freeze to death," she whispered in response, jokingly.

"i can't stand you," you mumbled playfully, hiding your face behind your hands.

"oh, really?" she teased, a playful glimmer in her eyes.

with a sly smirk, she wiggled her eyebrows and leaned down, her lips hovering near your ear.

"and just in case you get cold again," she murmured, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine, "i don't mind being your personal heater."

god, she was going to be the death of you.

with effortless strength, she held you with one hand while the other pulled down her mask. shooting a web towards the nearest building, she initiated the familiar routine. you clung to her tightly, burying your head in the crook of her neck, holding on for dear life.

if gwen hadn't already melted your heart with her soft touch and her warm smile, then she definitely had now.

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.

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q4evze · 3 months

Text

oh yeah baby we're so back (reposting old shit)

♡ sub!kaeya, fucking surprise

♡cw: alcohol, god!reader, u are the anemo archon, gn reader, penetrative sex but no parts mentioned on either end, sort of dacryphilia, general cosmic knowledge bullshit

♡a/n: if yk yk

“I think you’ve had a bit too much,” comes a flirtatious voice behind you. Though the first floor of the tavern is always crowded and cheerful, the second stays quiet enough for you to recognize the voice’s owner.

“What makes you say that?” you reply without turning around. The answer was obvious– empty glasses litter the table you’d claimed in the dim corner– but Kaeya wasn’t one for small talk. No, if he’d gone out of his way to find you, there was a more important reason.

Gloved hands press into the faded wood next to you, along with a glass that smells of Death After Noon, as the Captain leans over the table. “Rough day, was it?”

“I didn’t know you cared.”

“Is it so astonishing that I’d care for my God?”

Your hands playing with the splintering wood of the table stilled. There had always been cityfolk that knew your secret, but not many had so shamelessly flaunted their knowledge. It would seem fitting of the Spymaster to keep you on your toes. It wouldn’t be right, though, you decide, to let someone so brazen play games with a god.

“I didn’t take you for the type,” you answer measuredly, turning to meet his eye. “But then, I didn’t think I’d mentioned who I was to you before. Perhaps I’ve just scratched the surface in my perception of you.”

And perhaps the human drink has finally reached your brain, you think, as his visible eye glitters at your words. “Let’s get you home,” are the words that fall from his lips, neatly avoiding your implications. Fitting of the Knights, so good at backing out of impossible corners.

Your thoughts almost distract you from his next question.

“Where do you stay?”

You smile and lean in close, close enough Kaeya can hear you over the music and laughter of the tavern when you speak. “I don’t stay. I move where the winds lead me. And tonight, they’ve led me to you.”

He watches you, always so critical, as you lift his Death After Noon to your lips and let the sweet wine slide down your throat.

“Are you sure?” he asks, almost surprised. The wine hits your blood but does nothing to dull your mind. So difficult, to get drunk on the spirits of mortals. But there are other ways, you reason, to intoxicate oneself. And a new door just opened.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You don’t have any sense of danger? No regard for your safety?”

You shift slowly, leaning in towards the Captain. “You overestimate yourself,” you murmur, slow and sure. “Do you think you know more than me? Do you think I haven’t watched over you since you stumbled into my land? Do you think you would have thrived here without my blessing?”

You move closer, close enough that your lips brush against his ear when you say, “Do you think I don’t know you better than you know yourself?”

Kaeya freezes for a minute, but manages to maintain his façade. “If we’re to continue this conversation, it should be when you’re sober,” he relents.

“Such kindness,” you reply. So much this mortal didn’t know, so much he thought he did. You decide to keep to yourself that the wine had nothing to do with your disposition.

The scenes of the tavern and the streets blur as calloused hands guide you outside and into the night. You smile to yourself quietly– you hadn’t even had to ask– as the lights of the townhouses come into view.

The first thing you notice is that the decoration is sparse. A boy from two broken families would want less to miss, but the reality of it brings you to your senses. The music and blurriness of the city fall away to the quiet understatedness of the apartment.

Wordlessly, you remove your shoes and cross the room to wrap your arms around the Captain’s slender waist from behind.

“Poor lonely boy,” you whisper to him, your voice deep and rasping. “So underappreciated, so hopelessly unaware of the love this city feels for you.” Your grip tightens, sliding down over his hips. “Let me show you how much Mondstadt loves you.”

“You’re Mondstadt itself, are you?” comes his reply, breathless and questioning. Kaeya turns in your hands, tracing the softly glowing veins of your arms from elbow to wrist. The new orientation allows for you to let your fingertips wander, closer to where you wanted them.

“Yes,” is your simple answer. “The city, the lands, the people. I thought you knew.”

His back arches into you at the command of a wandering hand.

“I know your value to my people,” you continue, other hand tugging at his bottom lip, admiring its fullness. “I know what you deserve, outlander. You have the blessing of the Anemo Archon, is that not enough for you?

His stunned silence keeps you talking– you’ve never seen the Cavalry Captain speechless before. “Few can say they’ve caught the attention of a god. Some might consider themselves honored. Some might praise and worship me. But I like you best because you wouldn’t do any of that at all.” You brush a stray lock of hair out of his face carefully. “Beautiful little thing, let me show you how wanted you are.”

“You’re awfully confident,” comes his reply, deliberate as he brings your hand on his face to his lips, sucking at the worn, scarred flesh.

The time between the exchange at the front door and arriving in bed seems nonexistent. You hover over the mortal, veins thrumming with magic as you move to rid him of his clothes.

His submission catches you off guard, however, when he melts into your touch, letting his eye flutter shut as your fingers swiftly work open the laces of his corset and belt with an adept familiarity, as if you had put them on the Captain yourself. When the buttons of his shirt come undone, you busy yourself with his chest, and when you finally manage to peel his tight pants down his thighs, your teeth sink into the soft brown skin of his stomach.

Desperate hips rock against your chin, looking for friction. When your exploring touch finds his tight rim, you hear a barely muffled gasp from above you. That’s what I’m looking for.

“Do you have anything to help with this?” you mumble against his skin, biting back a laugh when he clenches tighter at the sound of your voice.

“Bedside table”, he answers, desperately trying to hide the shakiness of his voice. You fish in the drawer until you draw up an oil, one you first remember being used for this purpose hundreds of years ago. You push the Knight’s knees apart.

“Just like that,” you murmur, pouring the shining golden liquid over your fingers. Before the excess can spill over your palms, you press it into him, deliberate and unceremoniously. Try as you might, your eyes never stray from between his thighs as you coax your toying fingers deeper. Deft and smooth as ever, you spread him open before your prying, all-seeing eyes, as if to peel away all his secrets with the display.

Kaeya’s sweet moans brought your attention back to the present, the present where you were feeling and human and vulnerable, where another ached just out of reach of your fingertips. The present, the reality, where you could realize how much you needed to be inside the mortal crying out and stuffed full of your digits as soon as possible.

The show of his hole spreading and twitching for you almost distracted your focus enough to forget your intentions. Almost, but not quite. You stare into his bottomless, starry eye as you slide into him.

Settling your hands around the halo of blue hair, you rolled your hips forward, tender and forgiving. “I love you,” you whisper as you feel his body tremble under yours.

“You’re d-drunk,” he accuses, gasping in time with your soft thrusts. “D-don’t say things like that unless you mean it.”

Your reply comes easily. “You think I don’t?” Your lips graze the soft incline of his cheekbones. “I speak for my city. I speak for my land and all of its people. I am the wind and sky, the lifeblood of the land.”

“I love you, Kaeya.”

“Ahhhh!”

“We are your home. We love you.”

“Don’t say that, I told you–”

“I am your home. I love you.”

It had been so, so long since anyone had told Kaeya that he was loved.

The cruel emotional overstimulation you insisted on putting him through makes tears shine in his eye; that unknowable, sparkling eye. It also makes him tighten around you again.

As Kaeya’s lips part in protest, you press his knees back against his chest and drive yourself in further, reaching down to draw his lips to yours. “I love you,” you repeat, quieter against his lips before tugging his lip into your teeth. You pretend not to notice the tears that wet your cheek.

Kaeya’s fingers dig into your back, pushing you deeper, closer, as if all he wanted was to end up in a world where only you would tell him he was loved, over and over, until he could understand. The sound of his orgasm is carried on the melody of a wordless sob. His tears stream down his face in rivers now, and you lick them off his face one by one, buried deep inside as he clings to you tightly.

Well done, you think to yourself, as the Knight shakes and sobs at your mercy. What better way to welcome a mortal home than to show him his god’s love firsthand?

#i forgot how much i hate doing this #uhh what was this tagged #genshin🏷#kaeya smut #kaeya x reader #sub character #sub kaeya #dom reader #dom!reader #top reader #gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #x reader #throws upp and dies

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scyllas-revenge · 1 year

Text

A Shield Against the Snow

yet another only one bed scenario, because I’m obsessed with them

Boromir/Reader (gender neutral)

Word count: 1,472

Rating: T

Here’s my next installment of How to Cope with a Middle Earth Bed Shortage, this time with our beloved Boromir! (previous chapters include Eomer/Reader and Legolas/Reader).

Read on AO3!

“We’ll have to share.”

Boromir turned to look at you incredulously as you held your bedroll out to him, and for a moment you feared that your suppressed longing had revealed itself in your shaking voice. But your whole body was shaking with cold as it was, and it seemed you were safe.

“It’s our only option,” you added weakly.

Boromir had lost half his supplies in the snow hours earlier, nearly tumbling into a ravine in the treacherous climb up Caradhras. The two of you had gone scouting ahead for a safer path, but were now facing a night in a snowstorm alone, lost, freezing, and with a single bedroll between you.

“Nonsense.” He turned away, looking irritated. “Go to sleep, and I will keep watch.”

“Keep watch for what?” You gestured to the forest of boulders and ice, ominous in the dying evening light. Too inhospitable even for a campfire. “There’s nothing out here but snow.”

Boromir pulled his cloak tighter around himself and didn’t answer.

“If you’re not going to sleep, we might as well keep walking,” you went on, raising your voice over the biting wind. “We might be able to catch up with the Fellowship by dawn.”

“So late, and in this blizzard? The sun is setting, and soon we will be utterly blind!”

You jabbed a gloved finger at him in triumph. “Then how do you expect to keep watch?”

“I—” But you had bested him, and he scowled. “Just go to sleep.”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“The Men of Gondor can outlast a little snow.”

“Boromir, you’ll freeze—”

“I cannot share your bed!” He was breathing hard. “I cannot. I beg you, do not ask me again.”

You had expected a show of protest—Boromir always was a stickler for propriety—but the vehemence of his refusal stung. All these weeks the Fellowship had traveled together, he had never spoken so coldly to you. Always he had been kind, warm, talkative, seeking to walk by your side or offer you extra food at mealtimes. There had even been moments when his hand had rested on your shoulder, his eyes fairly glowing with what you had thought—what you had hoped was…

“I thought you were more practical than this.” Bitterness sharpened your voice to a swordpoint. “Would you truly rather freeze than lie beside me for a night? Just to stay warm?”

“Yes.”

He may as well have slapped you. Valar, he hadn’t even hesitated. But the shock of pain subsided quickly, fury taking its place. “Yes?” You stormed toward him, the bedroll shaking in your gloved fists. But the snow had frozen slick on the rocks at your feet, and Boromir’s hand darted out to steady you as you slipped.

Your eyes locked. He was all tension, jaw clenched, fingers tightening on your arm. Something desperate warred behind his eyes.

“Yes?” The word ghosted from your lips in a puff of white, a furious challenge.

“Yes.” His grip tightened, tightened, nearly painful. “For your warmth would burn me.”

“What?”

His breath billowed out in uneven clouds before him, anguish roughening his voice. “To lie beside you, to feel you pressed against me all through the night, to feign indifference all the while—” He released you and stepped away, shaking his head. “It would destroy me utterly.”

You stopped feeling the cold at once.

Boromir must have seen the shock in your eyes and stepped back again. “Forgive me. I had hardly wished to burden you with my desires, least of all now, here.”

“Desires? But how—how long have you…”

He lowered his eyes. “You will think me a barbarian, for I have wished to share your bed since first we met. Though I admit, I had imagined rather different circumstances than this. I am sorry to bring you discomfort,” he added, misreading your stunned silence. “Sorrier still to threaten our friendship. But you understand now why you must sleep alone.”

The bitter wind whipped at Boromir’s hair. Squaring his shoulders against the cold, he turned away into the darkness to begin his watch.

“Wait.” You shook your head breathlessly, finding your voice at last. “No. Share with me. Please.”

You set down your bedroll in the shelter of a little rocky outcropping, in as much shelter as could be found from the wind, and turned back to him.

But the desire in your voice had been lost in the freezing wind. “I cannot…” His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Misery twisted his features, and he stepped back once more.

You came to him instead, reaching out a gloved hand to sweep the snow from his broad shoulders, your fingers lingering on his collar in a gesture he couldn’t possibly misunderstand. “It’s so cold, Boromir,” you whispered. “Let me keep you warm.”

A shudder ran the length of his body, and he pulled you into his arms so urgently that he stumbled in the snow, gathering you to his chest with a breathless laugh. “Yes,” was all he managed to say. “Yes, love.”

And you kissed him.

Boromir’s lips were cold and chapped, but so were yours, and it was a sweeter kiss by far than any you'd conjured up during your long journey together. You melted into his embrace, heedless of the wind biting at your skin, and you clung to each other tighter even than the snow clung to your hair and cloaks.

Already you were warmer than you’d been in weeks. That wasn’t saying much, of course, considering how long the Fellowship had been hiking in the snow. And while Boromir’s mouth was invitingly warm, you felt no heat from his gloved hands, nor the snow-encrusted cloaks and furs between your bodies.

You shivered in his arms. Without speaking, you both trudged, still clinging to one another, to your bedroll, climbing hurriedly inside and draping your snow-encrusted coats and cloaks over the covers for extra warmth. It was more cramped than you’d anticipated, but you found you didn’t mind. The length of Boromir’s body was pressed tight to yours, and you grinned, nuzzling even closer to him.

Boromir wrapped his arms around you, drawing the covers as far over your heads as you could to shelter you from the wind. And without wasting a moment he slanted his lips over yours again, his fingers carding through your hair. He still wore his bulky gloves, making the gesture more uncomfortable than romantic. You laughed fondly and drew away.

“Let me.” You untangled your hair from his glove and took his hands in yours. Inch by inch you slipped the worn leather from his fingers, first one hand and then the other. His eyes were locked on your movements, his breath hushed.

You removed your own gloves next, and the warmth of his bare skin against yours was more welcome than a roaring fire. You gathered his fingers in your smaller ones, heating them against your lips with a long breath. Gently, you massaged his heavy palms, his calloused fingers, his broad fingertips.

“Had I known what sharing a bed with you would be like,” Boromir whispered, eyes slipping shut contentedly, “I would have mislaid my bedroll days ago.”

You laughed, withdrawing one hand slowly to trace the side of his face with your fingertips—the unkempt beard, the weathered skin, the little lines at the sides of his mouth where his smile widened. You had never touched his face before, and you wondered how you’d managed to go so long without doing so.

Boromir mirrored your gesture, cupping your face in his hand. With his other he propped himself above you—protecting you from the worst of the elements even now—and kissed you as though he’d been thinking of nothing else all those weeks you’d traveled together.

He drew away only to press a kiss below your ear, his lips parting hot against your racing pulse. You gasped, arching into him—and the covers above you shifted, sending a flurry of snowflakes cascading into your faces.

The next minutes were spent spluttering, coughing, shivering, knocking knees and elbows as you hurried to readjust the blankets above your heads.

Peace fell again at last, and your breathing calmed.

The wind was quieter now, as though it regretted its former cruelty, and the sun was nearly gone—Boromir’s face was little more than a warm silhouette under the blankets.

“Is this better?” you whispered, the last of the snow finally brushed away.

Boromir swept a strand of your now-mussed hair from your forehead. “No. I wish I could feel more of you tonight.” His voice was soft, the words ghosting warm over your lips.

“So do I.” Your fingers played at the hem of his tunic. “Perhaps, if we were very careful…”

For a moment he looked tempted, but you both knew it was a foolish idea, and he drew your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “There will be time for that later, my love. I would hardly have you freeze to death now.”

“No, nor I you.”

He laughed softly. “You return my affection, dearest—how could anything harm me now?”

#boromir #boromir x reader #lotr fanfic #tolkien fanfic #only one bed #is this just a bunch of cliches glued together with commas and em-dashes?#yes it is but i stand by it #god i hope these only one bed scenarios aren't getting old #i mean that won't stop me but still

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fluentmoviequoter · 10 months

Text

Special Edition

Day 4 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Jason Todd x vigilante!fem!reader

Summary: Jason Todd doesn't like you. He does like Jane Austen, though.

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Warnings: angst, arguments, brief description of injuries, fluff, Pride and Prejudice quotes. reader is a vigilante!

A/N: Sorry this is late; thank you for being patient and the encouraging messages!! This is my first Jason Todd fic and I am so excited because I'm madly in love with him. He may be OOC, but I didn't specify which version so you can imagine whichever Jason you want! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

Masterlist | DC Comics Masterlist | Request Info

You are the bane of Jason Todd’s existence. He’s never said it outright, but he shows you constantly that he doesn’t like you, trust you, and certainly doesn’t want to work with you. That doesn’t deter you from trying to bring a little Christmas spirit and friendship to the man in the red hood, though. All he’s missing is a little green and some lights.

December in Gotham is cold, wet, and busy for vigilantes. With Batman breathing down your neck about staying in fighting shape no matter the weather or the time of year, it can be easy to let Christmas slip by unnoticed, and Jason usually does. Since you joined the team, though, you’ve decided it will never happen again.

“Those lights are new,” you point out as you trail behind Jason, cutting through a previously undecorated alley.

“Focus!” he snaps, his helmet turning as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t mean we stop to look at pretty lights instead of finding Scarecrow’s new hideout.”

You shrug and jog a few steps to catch up, your eyes focused on his red helmet as he slows. He pulls a grappling hook from his belt and aims it upward.

“You don’t have one do you?” he asks, his voice giving away how annoyed and tired he is.

“Pretty sure Bruce only gives those to his sons,” you answer sheepishly. “I can just take the ladder on the backside of the building. Or we can split up.”

Jason barks a single, harsh laugh. “One, Bruce isn’t sexist like that so maybe he just knows you’re incompetent. And, two, we’re not splitting up.”

“Because I’m incompetent?” you ask, smiling.

Jason’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighs before wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you against his chest until your feet meet the solid roof. His hand raises but lingers by your side as he looks down at you. Nodding to himself, he pulls his arm back and turns to look out over the freezing, dirty streets of Gotham.

“What are the chances he’d go for the water supply again?” you ask quietly.

“Not very good,” Jason answers. “Do you think before you ask those questions?”

“Think? No. But I do see Bane pushing a huge crate into the water department offices down the street.”

Jason jumps from his crouched position and moves toward you, the heat radiating off his body like a warm hug against your skin as he stands behind you.

There’s a hint of grumbling as he raises his voice to ask, “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“Bane didn’t walk out until after you asked, Jason. I may be incompetent but I’m not a complete idiot,” you answer.

You blame the December weather for your change in attitude; any other time, you would have made a joke and asked for his help since Bruce was working on your grappling hook and didn’t have a spare (not that you’d ever tell Jason the wire snapped and dropped you three storeys the last time he asked you to split up). But now, you’re tired and cold and want to get away from Jason before you say something you shouldn’t, so you jump off the roof and onto the fire escape as Jason’s yells fall on deaf ears while you rush toward the water department.

When you try the handle, the doorknob twists easily, but as you prepare to open it, a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back.

“What are you doing? Trying to get yourself killed?” Jason whispers angrily.

“Why do you care, Jason? If I die, you don’t have to work with me anymore, right?”

“Just because I don’t like working with you doesn’t mean I want you dead,” he snaps.

“Then watch my back and try not to be such a Grinch.”

You tear your wrist away from him, blind to his face dropping and his jaw clenching under his mask. Pulling the door open slowly, you slip into the shadows, grateful to feel Jason behind you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You found Scarecrow’s new hideout?” Batman asks.

Jason nods, but you keep your eyes on your feet.

“And you went in - without telling anyone - only to get into a fight with Bane and doused with Scarecrow toxin?”

Jason nods again.

“Who made the call to go in without backup?”

“I…” Jason begins.

You don’t look up as you cut him off. “I did. Jason wanted to wait but I went in without him and he followed me. It’s my fault.”

“Hood, you’re dismissed then. Alfred said you need 24 hours of rest before you can patrol again,” Batman says.

Jason turns, stopping to look down at you before walking out of the Batcave. You hear Bruce pull his cowl off, but keep your eyes trained on your shoes.

“Alfred said the only reason Jason got out unscathed is because you took most of the toxin; without a mask. Why did you rush in there, then put yourself in harm’s way when Jason is more prepared to deal with it?”

“I didn’t think about that. I saw a threat and wanted to help my fri- teammate.” He’s not your friend, you remind yourself, no matter how badly you want him to be.

Bruce sighs, then clicks his tongue. You finally look up at him, and he looks like he’s fighting an internal war between Bruce and Batman. The one who wants to bench you for being reckless and the one who wants to hug you for protecting his son, even if he didn’t need it.

“Thank you. Just- call for backup next time, okay?”

You promise that you will. “But if someone is in danger, I will not hesitate to help.”

“I know that. But try to be a little more careful in the future, okay? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you lie, your mind racing on the remnants of the toxin as your face aches from the impact of Bane’s punch.

As you exit the Batcave and cut through Wayne Manor, Jason is leaning against the front door, his mask gone and his blue eyes leveled on you.

“Did he bench you?” he asks.

“No. Just told me not to do it again.”

Jason nods and pushes off the door, walking to you and looking down into your eyes. “That was incredibly stupid and if Bruce didn’t have this attachment to you, I’d be fighting him to get rid of you or stick you with someone else.”

“Sorry you feel that way,” you mumble, skirting around him and walking outside.

You breathe in the fresh air and try to ignore the feeling of your heartbeat in your face. You’ll undoubtedly have a bruise, so maybe it’s time to finally wear the mask Bruce seems keen on convincing you is for your safety. Maybe it’ll get Jason to lighten up, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce must’ve given a powerful lecture if it got you in the mask,” Jason teases.

You hum, hoping you don’t have to say anything and make the pain in your jaw worse.

“Just ordinary patrol today, so we can split up if you still want to,” he offers.

You shrug, watching the helmet tilt as its unblinking eye slits stare at you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” you say. “Split up, then.”

You take the East side of your quadrant while Jason goes West. As the night goes on and your pain medicine wears off, you want to curl up into a ball on one of the roofs you're jumping across and go to sleep. You slow before stopping in the middle of a roof, gently pressing your hand against the underside of your jaw, trying to alleviate the pain.

“What are you doing?” Jason asks, his voice distorted by the mask as he appears suddenly behind you.

“Nothing,” you say, the word mumbled by your hand holding one side of your jaw closed.

You hear his footsteps as he walks around you, stopping in front of you and pulling your hand away from your face before gently lifting your mask to your nose. His sharp inhale is barely audible through the helmet, but you catch it.

“Look that good?” you joke.

“When did that happen? Tonight?”

“No. Bane punched me two nights ago; it’s getting worse, as usual.”

“You should have told someone; what if he had broken your jaw?”

“Then you wouldn’t have to hear my commentary that you love so much.”

“Can you take anything seriously?”

“Can you stop taking everything seriously?” you argue. “I got hurt, so what? You don’t even like me!”

“I never said- no matter my feelings, you’re my teammate. Just tell me this stuff.”

“Because you’re such a good listener,” you mutter.

“Let’s go. We’ll finish patrolling together.”

You nod, pulling your mask back down and following Jason to a roof with a bird’s eye view. You sit on the edge beside him, looking at the twinkling Christmas lights scattered throughout Gotham.

“What do you want for Christmas?” you ask.

Jason’s mask swings toward you. “What do I want for Christmas?” he repeats incredulously. “Oh, let’s see… a partner who doesn’t rush us both into danger, a life that isn’t marked by death and loss, a team that doesn’t look at me like I’m one second away from becoming a supervillain, and maybe, if there is anything like Christmas magic, a day where you don’t act like my life is worth more than yours!”

You hold your breath as he yells at you, releasing it when he looks back out to the skyline.

“Red, we’re here to relieve you. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night,” Red Robin says through the comm system.

Jason storms off as soon as he hears that, leaving you alone two nights before Christmas.

“I don’t think they have that on Amazon,” you whisper to Gotham, rubbing the good side of your face to stop yourself from crying.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce gave you a few nights off, presumably because Jason complained about you. The morning after Jason told you what he wanted for Christmas, you get a package containing the gift you thought he’d like. You wrap it, then set it on your kitchen counter, unsure whether it’s worth it to take it to him or if you should leave it at the manor while he’s gone. Shrugging, you decide you have time to make the decision and walk to your couch, queuing your favorite Christmas movie and trying to push Jason Todd out of your head. Deep down, you always believed he was mean because he cared and kept you safe by keeping you at arms’ distance, but now you’re not so sure.

On Christmas Eve, you find yourself standing outside Jason’s apartment, his gift in one hand and the other hand ready to knock. Taking a deep breath, you hope for the best and knock. The door opens a moment later, and Jason looks at you, his gaze catching on the bruise momentarily.

“Um, I just wanted to bring you this. And say that I’m sorry. Merry Christmas,” you explain as you extend the bag to him.

He takes it, pulling his eyes from yours to peek past the tissue paper. His blue eyes widen as he sees what’s in the bag before he closes the door quickly. You step back, hurt, and prepare to leave when the door opens again. Jason pulls you into his arms and into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind him as he holds you close. Your arms wrap loosely around his waist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

Your arms immediately tighten around him, and you press your uninjured cheek against his chest.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Of course. Merry Christmas, Jay.”

“No, no,” he begins, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his shining like a frozen lake. “You don’t say ‘of course,’ like I deserve it. Not after everything I’ve done to you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to apologize, but I just..”

“Push people away because you think you’re a bad guy?” you suggest quietly.

“I am a bad guy,” he responds.

“No, you’re not. Jason, do you push people away for you or for them, and their safety, because you care about them?”

Jason is quiet as he stares into your eyes, dropping his gaze to your bruise once. “I care about you,” he whispers. “You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

“She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes,” you quote.

“Where did you find a special edition of Pride and Prejudice this close to Christmas?” Jason asks, smiling brightly.

“I thought it was going to get here too late.”

“Thank you. For the book and for pushing back.”

“You’re worth it, Jay. Merry Christmas.”

He barely lets you finish before he pulls you in for another kiss the Christmas lights twinkling on the Gotham skyline starkly contrast the streets below, going unnoticed in the background as you realize Jason only pretended not to like you because of how much he cares for you. That, and being wrapped in his arms, is the only Christmas gift you’ve ever needed.

#fluentmoviequoter12daysoffics #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #fem!reader

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iluvmorales · 1 year

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heyy! could you do headcanons where the reader is a female and is ganke's cousin and miles fell first but she fell harder? tysm if you will do it<3

summary Winter break, in Brooklyn w/ your favorite cousin. What could possibly happen besides you falling for his best friend..in a day?

a/n I had fun writing this! Tysm for the request ma

word count ??? (A little long)

winter break. Visions academy had kicked the students out of the dormitories and sent them back home. So what better time to visit your favorite cousin than now? Ganke had offered to show you around Brooklyn if you came to visit New York for the 3-week break.

You stood infront of the townhouse with ganke, waiting for the friend y’all were supposed to hangout with today. The scarf and puffy coat only provides so much warmth and it was starting to turn your nose and cheeks red. Finally, a tall lanky boy with a taper fade turned the corner, waving at ganke, then looking at you with a smile that slightly faltered

Miles could feel his heartbeat fasten when he saw you. Pretty furry earmuffs, rosy cheeks and nose with a scarf that looked like it absolutely drowned you with your plump lips barely peeking over the wool.

“Y/N this is miles morales, miles Y/N Lee. My fav’ cousin” Ganke ruffled your hair before you swatted his hand away. Even though you were cousins, he always watches out for you like you were his little sister. Miles shook your hand, his gloved one providing your bare hands with heat.

He could tell your hands were freezing just by the way they were stiff and changing colors.

“Your hands look cold, here” he slid off his gloves and gave them to you causing you to panic. “Nono it’s okay I can’t accept this” you smiled sweetly, pushing his hands back to his chest. Miles just sighed and took your hands, sliding in the gloves.

By now, your cheeks were suddenly warm instead of cold, and your heartbeat was speeding up. God he was cute and a gentleman?

“Thanks miles” you smiled, earning a nod and a hum from him. Ganke clapped concluding-ly; “well, let’s show Y/N the best cafe in the city” Ganke turned to miles with a thumbs up before walking, you and miles following behind.

Ganke didn’t miss the tension in the air, it wasn’t awkward or Ima-kill-this-hoe tension. But a lovey-dovey tension.

After about a ten minute walk consisting of miles making you laugh and Ganke chiming in every now and then, you finally arrived at the cafe. “Woah- the graffiti is soo pretty” you stared with stars in your eyes. The walls inside and outside of the cafe were covered in the best graffiti you’d ever seen, but they kept the rest of the cafe modern.

Miles could only look at your eyes and how you had stars in them and think, how would you react to his own graffiti? It’s just as good.

“You know, Miles also does graffiti designs. He’s super good too.” Ganke retorted, winking at miles. “Really?!” You turned, facing miles. Now you were looking at him with the starstruck look in your eyes. He wished you could look at him like that forever. Ganke elbowed him to bring him back to reality. Miles cleared his throat: “yeah- I can show you some of my works if you want? We can swing by my place.” He smiled as you nodded rapidly.

Ganke ordered, then miles, who offered to pay for yours. No, INSISTED. Over and over again until you gave in.

“My place is literally just around the corner, So comon” miles lead the way, turning behind the care and walking down to the intersection. He grabbed your hand; “a lot of accidents happen here, so let’s hurry” he smiled at you, then nodding at Ganke. You only nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

When you all finally made it to his apartment, he warned that his parents might be home and to just let him do the talking if they asked anything.

You nodded and followed in behind the boys as they went in. A beautiful woman with a side braid greeted you all; “Ganke! So nice to see you!” She gave him a hug and the cheek kiss. She looked at you with a smile: “and you bought a friend! Hi, I’m Miles’ mom” she greeted you sweetly. “Mom this is- miles was cut off by you “it’s so nice to meet you mrs. morales, I’m Y/N lee, Gankes cousin.”

Rio was over the moon about your respectfulness since so many kids your age nowadays insisted on calling adults by their first names.

She smiled at you sweetly one last time before shooing you all to miles’ room. “Y/N you made a good impression, I remember gwanda calling my mom rio and she was pisses” miles laughed, sliding off his coat but leaving on his hoodie and jersey. You shrugged with a smile, doing the same; “parents always love me.” To which Ganke agreed. And they’ll love when miles brings you home as his girlfriend, and not just Gankes cousin.

After you’d all gotten comfortable, miles went through his sketchbooks. You laid on your tummy, next to miles on the floor and Ganke sat on the bed listening to music. Miles was showing you all the designs he’d come up with but could never paint because of the cops (aka his dad)

Your finger pointed to a beautiful tag that read power with a silhouette and a bunch of cool designs around it with a drippy affect. “I like this one, is it your own tag?” You asked, removing your gaze from the paper and up into his brown eyes. “Yeah, me and my uncle came up with it. Even though it is really simple” miles shrugged. You hummed and continued flipping through the pages.

The sun had already went down, Ganke was passed out on the bed and you and miles were on your backs still going through all his sketchbooks before you flipped a page, and felt a pain in your chest.

“She’s really pretty” you choked out, flipping through all the pages of a girl with a interesting haircut. Miles eyes turned to the page and freaked out. “Ah yeah, uhm that’s really old.” He replied sighing, hoping it wouldn’t ruin anything he started. You hummed setting the sketchbook down and staring at the ceiling.

Were those little gestures and time you spent just him being friendly?

“It’s already 10, you guys might as well stay the night” miles chirped, causing Ganke to just nod tiredly. You sat there confused. They were just allowed to decide that whenever? “But I don’t have any clothes..” you sighed. “I can put yours in the washer and stuff while you shower. There’s towels and stuff in the restroom already.” You nodded before heading to the restroom and sliding your clothes to miles beneath the door. The shower was peaceful and miles had left your clothes perfectly folded outside the door, but with an extra tee and shorts. They were his.

After getting dressed you decided jeans and the shirt you had on earlier weren’t too comfy so you just wore the extra clothes he’d given you.

You stepped out the restroom with your hair tied up. The living room was dark but Ganke and miles were on the couch playing video games. Well Ganke was dead sleep but miles was up. “Finally! I was waiting for you-“ he cut off when he turned to face you. You looked adorable in his clothes, they were loose on him so they were even bigger on you. You smiled at him: “Yeah my bad, thank you for the clothes though miles” hearing you say his name so sweetly made his heart pound even more. He nodded; “of course” you went to take a seat on the opposite side of ganke, miles between you both.

The rest of the night consisted of you and miles playing video games while eating snacks, whisper yelling trying to do anything but wake up his parents.

It ended with you passed out laying on your tummy and miles laying sprawled out, head resting on the small of your back. He didn’t know, but you were smiling at the sight of him laying so peacefully on top of you.

He fell for you in a day, and you’d fallen even harder without him knowing.

#miles x reader #spider verse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #1610milesmorales #x reader #spiderman atsv x reader

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queenie-official · 10 months

Text

‘Winter Wonderland’ Modern!Ani

main masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Anakin x reader

a/n: this is a part 2 for another post i made. first part is here, but it can be read on its own as well. this one’s for you @luvskywxlker 🫶🏼🤭 (so using what we talked about in the last one btw🌝

❄️- with winter comes snow and with snow comes a very childish Anakin.

you both where walking out of his mom’s house finishing up a visit with her. you hadn’t really bundled up because anakin had parked his car right at the curb and you didn’t see the point when you’d be in a car with the heaters on full blast in no time.

that was your first mistake, the second mistake you made was not taking into account that the snow that had been gently falling from the sky earlier was now piled up on the ground.

fluffy, white, cold and glistening with temptation like shiny treasure. you hadn’t even noticed when Anakin’s steps had slowed, going from walking in tandem beside you to now behind your back.

that’s when you felt it, your eyes widening when you felt a snowball hit your head. bursting and spreading its cold ice all over your hair. spinning on your heel sharply you face the culprit who has a cheeky grin with flushed cheeks from the cold.

he’s looking off to the side pretending like it wasn’t him, as if there was anyone else around who could be responsible.

“Ani!” you shout at him, brows knitted together paired with a glare.

“what?” he asks exaggeratedly, feigning innocence.

“what do you mean what! that was totally you” you argue, crossing your arms in defense.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about sweetheart” he says with a shrug, giving you a tight lipped smile as he continues the walk to the car as if nothing happened.

you huff before a mischievous smile grows on your face. as soon as he’s in front of you, you give him a taste of his own medicine. bending over you grab a handful of snow and quickly compact it into a ball.

as soon as it hits his head which you’re honestly shocked it did because you have horrible aim. he spins around and you find yourself wishing you’d put on a jacket and gloves as soon as you see the look in his eyes.

you weren’t going to back down though and neither was he, a snowball fight quickly ensued as well as escalated. you both only stopped when you heard the front door to Shmi’s house open, whipping your heads to the door like children who’d been caught doing no good.

“what on earth are you two doing?” Shmi asks with a laugh, a faux scolding voice laced in her words.

“Nothing!” you both say in unison causing Shmi to laugh harder, waving you both off before heading back inside with a smile on her face as she closes the door.

you turn back to Anakin making eye contact as you share a look, brows raised and eyes wide before you both burst out into laughter. it’s only then that you realize how cold you are. shivering as you walk over to him, hands cold and wet from the snow.

you pout at him as you look up into his eyes. “I’m cold” you say watching as he raises a brow.

“yea?” he asks, pulling you into his hold. wrapping his arms around you as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “i know a way to make you warmer”

you blush as he pulls back to look at your face, already beginning to grow warm. he gently grabs hold of the side of your face cradling your cheek wanting to lean in for a kiss. you pull away from him with a grimace causing him to pout.

“your hand is freezing” you say with a wrinkled nose. watching as he rolls his eyes. “way to ruin the moment” he sighs out causing you to giggle.

“well i guess we better head home. and then you can warm me up properly” you say while wiggling your brows, bringing back the heat that he’d caused from his words before.

both of you are quick to hurry to the car after that.

❄️- what’s a better way to spend the day then cuddled up in Anakin’s arms while you both lay on the couch? there isn’t a better way, you’re sure of that in fact.

the only sounds that echo throughout the room as you too cuddle is the fire crackling and both of your soft breathing.

your eyes are closed as you rest your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his beating heart. Anakin’s gaze is focused outside the window, the streetlights warm glow lighting up the falling snow.

It had been a pretty harsh blizzard all day, only calming within the last hour. you and Anakin both happily welcomed the blizzard though, allowing both of you to stay home instead of go to your college classes.

you let out a content sigh as you feel Anakin gently rubbing your back, the warmth of his hands making you smile softly as his touch trails up your arm. goosebumps litter your skin in turn, a giddy feeling in your heart as you allow yourself to fully enjoy this moment.

you couldn’t think of anything that could possibly make this peaceful moment better, until Anakin spoke up. “we should make hot cocoa” as soon as the suggestion leaves his lips your head shoots up. a warm smile and giddy look in your eyes as you look into his.

he bites back a smile of his own, letting out a deep chuckle. “i’ll take that as a yes?” he asks with a small head tilt, rubbing small circles on your arm with his thumb as you prop yourself up on him.

you take a moment to think it over before pursing your lips. “but that means we have to move” you sigh lazily, not wanting to move from his warm embrace and just in general. “do you want hot cocoa or not?” he raises a teasing brow at you, reaching up and tucking a peace of hair behind your ear that had fallen in front of your face.

“yea, but i’d rather keep cuddling” you rest your head back down, nuzzling your face into his neck and wrapping your arms around him.

you feel anakin pull you tighter against him right before you’re hoisted up as he stands. you let out a small squeal as he stretches slightly with you clinging onto him like a koala.

you forget how strong this man is sometimes. he carries you into the kitchen as you cling to him like it’s nothing- though to be fair for him it is nothing.

he places you on the counter, but you still refuse to let go of him. keeping your legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, as he opens the cabinets above you to grab your favorite mug as well as his.

you can’t help but smile as he maneuvers around with you as he makes the hot chocolate. it was all so domestic and warm, a beautiful contrast to the wintery outside. the sound of boiling water pulls you from your thoughts, and you feel the steam wafting against your back as he pours the water into the mugs.

“think you can hold yourself up while i hold the hot chocolate?” Anakin asks as he looks down at your face. you give a small nod and he grabs the two mugs walking you both back to the living room as you hold on tighter then before making sure you don’t slip.

As soon as he plops down on the couch you shift around in his lap, careful not to bump his arms so he doesn’t spill anything. once you’re comfortable with your back to his chest he hands you your hot cocoa and then wraps his arms around you as he holds his own. nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and giving a soft kiss as you both wait for your drinks to cool.

yea there’s no better way to spend the day then cuddled up in Anakin’s arms, and the winter just added an extra warmth to the whole ordeal ironically.

okay i hope you all love this 🤭 i’ve been in a fluffy modern Anakin kinda mood- and i was also listening to ‘One i’ve been missing’ by little mix on repeat while i wrote this soooo the winter vibes where at a all time high🥰

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