#was well worth the trek it took to get there. in the cold and snow.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlepinebed · 3 months ago

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Little Pinebed: The Old Cabin (Borrower AU)

Characters:

Will (They/Them)

Sam (He/They)

— — — — —

The first days of spring. Meant to usher in the warm, pleasant summer, with gentle rains and flourishing flowers; there was not, however, meant to be a mild snowstorm. Yet due to the changing climate you could have a week without a hint of frost, only to be buried under a foot of snow overnight. On one of those nights, two unlucky people would come to meet.

Sam sat in the low branches of a tree, along the edge of a steep hill that stretched for what seemed like miles. Well, miles to the ten centimeter tall borrower, at least. He pulled his cloak tight around himself in an attempt to cling to what little warmth was held in his small frame. “Sorry I won’t be able to pay you back for this, Isaac.” The borrower muttered to themself.

Their first time outside coinciding with heavy snowfall was not what Sam was hoping for. That's what you get for showing yourself to a human. Sam guessed. What were you even hoping for? A friend? Stupid. Humans… are nothing… but trouble.

Sam’s eyes, heavy with exhaustion, closed as the evening's events weighed down on the borrower and sent them into a deep sleep. Nearby, someone else was dealing with the sudden storm almost as poorly, despite being much larger.

— — — — —

This is what I get for not checking the weather forecast. Will thought to themself. They adjusted their scarf and pulled their hat down over their ears before stuffing their hands back in their pockets. I should have brought my mittens. Something warmer than a windbreaker too. Will looked up to the cloudy sky, snowflakes falling all around them. “The view was worth it though.” Will spoke aloud to nobody in particular, “It's a shame you can't see this much starlight in the city.”

As Will continued his trek down the mountain towards the quaint little cabin, the path took a sharp turn and became a bit precarious for the intrepid stargazer. I should be fine as long as I don't- As if to demonstrate what he shouldn't do as he explained it to himself, Will made the immediate mistake of looking down.

There must have been a foot of snow, at least, covering the ground, yet they could see the broken branches and long-dead shrubs sticking out of the snow clearly. Will tried their best to quell the anxiety that began to stir inside them, but that left them distracted; their next step hit soft powder, which broke under their weight and sent them tumbling down the steep slope with a loud yelp.

— — — — —

Sam jolted awake. “Wha?” They opened their eyes and held their aching body tight. I must have… passed out? Sam thought, Isn't that bad to do in the cold? Sam took a moment to calm down a bit of anxiety that began to creep up on him, when he noticed a low, rumbling sound approaching him.

It was like an avalanche. A massive object rolled towards him, bringing with it an amount of snow that would easily bury him if he wasn't already in the safety of the tree.

Thunk! The thin tree shook wildly from the impact as whatever was rolling down collided with the tree Sam was perched in.

Sam managed to grab the branch underneath him while he was still on it, only to watch his pack fling off into the distance. “I'm not getting that back…” Sam mumbled as he started pulling himself up.

Another, smaller impact shook the tree, and caused the borrower to lose his grip and plummet to what was surely his end.

— — — — —

Will clutched their aching body. Their clothes were torn, their body bruised and covered in scrapes and scratches. Annoyed, they slammed the tree they had been leaning against with their elbow, which only elicited a further wince as a stabbing pain shot up their shoulder. Clutching their right arm, they pulled their hand back to find a thin line of blood drawn across their palm. Need to grab a bandage… Will reached for their pack, and noticed they didn't have it with them. Did I drop it somewhere?

Taking a moment to look around, Will couldn't see their pack on the hill they fell from, and didn't notice any of it sticking out of the snow around them. “Damn,” they muttered, “Must have left up on the patio.” They considered wrapping their scarf around the wound, but a quick check showed it was mostly bruised and had already stopped bleeding. Their scarf was mostly unwound from their neck. It draped off one of their shoulders and onto the ground next to them. Looking down, they finally noticed the figure that was laying on it; Will nearly jumped in surprise when he saw i t-no, them- move.

The figure was dazed, confused, and unmistakably human. Will could barely believe it, but there was a tiny, shivering person laid out on their scarf. They couldn't be more than a few inches tall, half-covered by some sort of white cloak. Will could make out visible stitching on the gray t-shirt and pants they wore, made from what Will guessed were scraps from similar, larger pieces of cloth.

— — — — —

Snow-covered branches whizzed past the falling borrower. Sam attempted to twist his body in the air for a better landing; only to unexpectedly slam into an, oddly soft, wall. Sam tumbled down the steep slope, landing on his back on another soft surface. Sam lay there, wind knocked out of him, gasping for breath. While he looked up to see what he had hit on his way down, it only confirmed his fears. His eyes followed the green scarf he was laying on past the gray wall of a coat and up to the pale face of the giant he was faced with.

They were looking away. If Sam could just roll off the scarf and into the snow... He'd be practically invisible under his cloak, l and just had to hope the human didn't get too close when they stood up. He rolled onto his side, only to break out into a coughing fit from his aching lungs. When his coughing subsided there was a noticeable silence. Sam looked up to the giant to see two giant, sapphire-coloured eyes staring back; He had run out of time.

— — — — —

Their attention shifted to the tiny person's features, the first thing Will noticed was curly, brownish-orange hair. Their skin was pale, though it was hard to tell the exact shade with the amount of freckles that covered their face and arms. Looking into their tiny, emerald eyes, Will asked:

“Are you ok?” The small person only shuffled back further, nearly falling off the end of the scarf. Will saw their hands and face were unnaturally pink. It was hard to tell whether the tiny was trembling more from fear or from the cold.

“You're freezing...” Will muttered. They reached down towards them, only to stop after seeing the tiny wince. “S-sorry. I wasn't thinking. Is it alright if I hold you, and try to warm you up?”

That seemed to surprise them more than trying to grab them. After what felt like a long, grueling silence for the human, The small figure gave a nod, and Will gently scooped them into their hands.

— — — — —

When the giant hands closed around Sam his first instinct was to flee. The idea quickly faded as he felt the heat emanating from them. They were nearly as pink as his own at this point, but even then they were still much warmer than Sam would ever be able to get on his own. He quickly settled into the giant's grasp, and began to fight a sudden tiredness. It's warm…

— — — — —

Will needed to get home soon. They went over to the tree and held their hand holding the tiny up to the nearest branch. Instead of climbing off, the tiny remained sat in Will's hand and looked at them with a pleading expression.

“Do you… want to come with me?” A nervous nod confirmed Will's guess. Will used their free hand to pull their scarf, and let the tiny person climb down onto their shoulder before wrapping the end of it around their neck. They felt the tiny adjust their position, sliding their legs under the collar of Will's shirt and leaned against Will's neck. After making sure their little passenger was secure, they resumed their trek through the forest, towards home.

Not long after that they found the clearing and Will was able to spot a light not that far in the distance.

“Alright, the cabin's that way. We're almost there.” Now that they knew the direction they quickened their pace and made it home just a few minutes later.

Built by Will's grandmother when she was young, the cabin must have been at least fifty years old. Will was surprised at how long it lasted without any visitors, but from what they heard about their grandmother it made sense.

They pushed open the door and let out a thankful sigh at the warmth that enveloped them as they stepped inside, shutting the door behind them.

Will slipped one hand under their scarf to support the tiny passenger as they used their other to slowly unwrap it from their neck.

“Well,” Will said, “We made it.” They looked down to find the little one curled up in their palm, eyes closed. The last thing Will wanted was to wake their potential new friend, so they gently laid their scarf on the console in a way for it to resemble a nest, and placed the tiny person in the middle.

Will got to work removing their gear, taking heed not to get too close to the console.

“Thank you for bringing me out of the cold…” Will looked down to see their mini guest sat up in the scarf, groggily rubbing their eyes. So they do have a voice…

“No problem.” Will responds, “I'm Will by the way. They/Them. And you?”

“I'm Sam…” They looked down, and cocked their head to the side, as if in contemplation. “I'm… not sure if I want to use he, or they…”

“Sam's a nice name,” Will responded, “You could always use both, and put whatever pronoun you prefer over the other first.”

Still a little confused, Sam responded with a nod and a “I'll think on it, then.”

“Okay” Will smiled, “It's nice meeting you by the way.”

Sam returned the smile, “It's nice to meet you too, Will.”

#giant tiny #sfw g/t #cabin au #oc sam #oc will

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just-a-silly-little-whumper · 2 years ago

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(In)Hospitable

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

Me? Giving my boys hypothermia AGAIN? It’s more likely than you think.

Elze’ith and Altair try to leave the valley. Lord Denholm brings them right back.

Contains: Environmental whump, hypothermia, magical exhaustion, intimate whumper

~~~

“I think we should try to keep moving. Keep heading for the coast.”

Elze’ith frowned. “Lord Denholm said that the mountains were too treacherous this time of year.”

“And you believe him?” Altair raised an eyebrow. “You saw the way he looked at us. Like we were a curiosity. I don’t trust him. Besides, we’re no amateurs. We have magic. I’ve had a chance to hunt, we know how to keep ourselves warm. We can handle it.”

By all accounts Altair seemed confident, but Elze’ith could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he set his jaw. He sighed. “You really don’t want to stay.”

“Of course I don’t.”

“Alright. We can try to make the trek. But we need to turn back if it gets too dangerous to handle.”

Altair smiled. His happiness was bright enough to rival the sun. “Thank you, my love. We’ll set out in the morning.”

---

It took everything Elze’ith had to keep his shield up against the howling blizzard. Each step through the knee-high snow was an accomplishment in and of itself. His lungs heaved with the effort, the frigid air stinging his throat with each inhale.

A day and a half into their journey, and things had already gotten this bad. The storm had blown in unexpectedly; the skies had been clear yesterday, but an hour into their hike today the conditions had taken a turn for the dire.

“We can’t keep going like this!” he shouted over the wind. “We need to take shelter.”

Altair huddled next to him, trying to take advantage of what little cover his shield offered against the elements. “I think I saw a cave a few hundred meters back. It should give us some cover.”

Fortunately, they had already forged a path through the snow partway to the cave Altair had seen, so the trek there wasn’t nearly as arduous. The cave was small, barely an indent in the mountainside, but it was enough to shield them from at least some of the wind and snow. Elze’ith threw up a barrier to partially block the entrance while Altair sparked a fire to provide them some semblance of warmth. They sat down against the stone wall, as close to each other as they could manage.

Elze’ith could feel Altair shivering against him through the multiple layers they were both wearing. “I think you were right,” Altair said through chattering teeth. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

Elze’ith took Altair’s gloved hand in his own. “Maybe the storm will blow over soon, and we can keep going.”

“No, we— we should go back. Wait for winter to end.” Altair’s head landed on Elze’ith’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Elze’ith.”

“It’s okay, my love. You had a point. It was worth seeing for ourselves. Once the weather clears, we can just go back. No harm done.”

“Yeah.” Altair still sounded dejected. He took a deep breath. “Are you warm enough?”

“I’m okay. You’re like a furnace,” Elze’ith said lightly, pressing closer to Altair.

Altair huffed out a laugh, but still flexed his hand and let the fire grow a little bigger. “Well, I’m cold, so I’m going to make it a little warmer in here.”

“I certainly won’t complain. Just don’t wear yourself out. We don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

“I could say the same for you. I appreciate the shield, but don’t strain yourself to keep it up.”

“Understood, sunshine.”

Time stretched on. The blizzard continued to rage outside, batting against the shielded entrance to the cave. Each gust of wind that the shield repelled drained Elze’ith’s magic just a little more, and he could feel exhaustion begin to weigh on him. The fire flickered stubbornly; with no physical fuel in their makeshift shelter, Altair had to keep it maintained with his magic, and with each passing hour the little ball of flame grew smaller and smaller.

“Hey, Elze’ith?” Altair’s voice, when he broke the silence, was small and clumsy.

“Yeah?”

“‘M cold.”

“Me too.” The little flame in Altair’s hands wasn’t doing as good of a job at staving off the frigid air anymore. “Tired, too.”

“Yeah.” A slow, laboured breath. “Wanna sleep.”

The notion of sleep tugged at something in Elze’ith’s tired mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. “Sounds nice.”

The cold and exhaustion also kept him from noticing that he was at the end of his magical stamina, so it was an unpleasant shock when his shield fell and the wind began blowing in full-force. Altair’s flame sputtered and died, unable to respond to the sudden new onslaught. Elze’ith weakly put up a hand to try to generate a new shield, but he had barely any energy left to move, much less use magic, so his efforts amounted to nothing.

Altair buried his face into Elze’ith’s shoulder and whimpered. Elze’ith reached a clumsy hand around to try to pat him reassuringly, but it landed on Altair’s chest instead of his arm like Elze’ith intended. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.”

“Cold.”

“I know.” Then, softer, “I know.”

Altair’s breathing grew softer and slower. Snow began to gather on the two of them. Eventually the wind began to ease, but Elze’ith had no strength left to move. Sleep called to him, and Elze’ith let himself fall into nothingness.

---

Someone was stroking his face.

Normally this wouldn’t have phased him. The touch was tender, and he was used to waking up to gentle caresses from Altair. He was so tired, and he was warm for what felt like the first time in an eternity. There was nothing he wanted more than to sink into the comfort and drift in semi-consciousness. But as awareness slowly returned, he realized that the fingers on his cheek were cold, far too cold to belong to his warm, vibrant Altair. Especially because he felt that familiar warmth next to him.

Elze’ith sluggishly forced his eyes open. He was back in the small cottage he and Altair had taken up residence in. From the way the shadows danced and the crackling sound he heard, someone had started a fire in the hearth. He was in the cottage’s lone bed, covered in blankets. Altair was nestled next to him, breathing slowly but steadily. And Lord Denholm was sitting on the side of the bed, looking over him with a small smile.

“I’m glad to see you awake again, my friend,” Lord Denholm said breezily. “I must say, I was rather worried for you.”

“Don’t make me fish you out of the snow again,” Ivetta’s harsh voice rang out. Elze’ith craned his head, and found her leaning against the wall next to the door. “Twice in one week is bad enough. You’d think you didn’t know how to take care of yourselves.”

“Now, Ivetta, they are just not used to the terrain around here. I am sure that this won’t happen again. Right?”

Elze’ith felt distinctly as though he were being chastised. “Right. I would hate to trouble you further.”

Lord Denholm’s smile grew. “Oh, believe me, it’s no trouble. I think I would appreciate any reason to come see you. You really are quite… captivating.”

When Elze’ith shuddered, it wasn’t because he was cold. Lord Denholm’s gaze was intent in a way that made his skin crawl.

“Well, thank you, Ivetta, for coming to rescue us, but we really need our rest. I think it is time the two of you made your leave,” Altair said, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows. Elze’ith startled slightly; he hadn’t realized Altair was awake.

“Of course.” Lord Denholm stood. “Feel free to call on me should either of you need anything. Do take care. Ivetta, come.”

With that, Lord Denholm and Ivetta disappeared into the night.

Elze’ith let out a breath. Altair took his hand under the blanket. “Are you all right, dear?”

“I’m fine. Exhausted, but nothing that rest and some warm soup won’t fix.” Elze’ith pulled himself upright. Altair shifted as well, so they were sitting cuddled up next to each other. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I’m very glad that he didn’t try to collect more ‘payment’ for rescuing us this time,” Altair said dryly.

Elze’ith looked at his hands. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, “He was stroking my face when I woke up. I think. I might have been dreaming.”

“He— What the fuck,” Altair muttered. “I’m setting him on fire the next time we see him.”

“Altair, no. It’s all right, just…” He shrugged. “Let’s just try not to be around him too much.”

“I certainly won’t argue about that.”

Altair flexed his free hand. The fire in the hearth surged just a little bit bigger. Elze’ith sighed contentedly.

“You know, one of us is going to have to get up to make that soup you were talking about.”

“I know. But let’s just stay like this for a little while longer.”

Altair leaned his head against Elze’ith’s shoulder. “Fine by me.”

#flicker in the dark #whump writing #silly writes #elze'ith sylrel oc #altair buchannan oc #lord soren denholm oc #ivetta vernier oc #environmental whump #hypothermia #magic

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spirit-of-helimire · 2 years ago

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First Snow and Winter Solstice

Words: 4938 Rating: T+ Characters featured; Some polyam shenanigans happen with our old queers and a light angst in the latter part. Christopher wakes on the first day of the Festival of Tromm, but more importantly, he wakes to snow in Helimire for the first time in cenutires.

Christopher woke on the day of the winter solstice and took a moment to stretch under the heavy blankets on his bed, not wanting to move from the comfort of his space. The moment he pushes the blankets down to his waist and sits up, he can instantly feel the chill of the room wash over him, something that he hardly feels unless he’s far from Helimire. He stands from his bed and pulls on the robe he keeps on a hook near his bed, now wishing it was a bit more plush than it is now, but it wasn’t worth it in the end. He moves to one of the windows of his room and pushes back the heavy dark curtains away.

The first thing he sees, really, is nothing. Bright light flooding his room and his eyes, making him squint and block the light with his hand. It takes a moment for him to adjust to the light, but when he can finally see again, a wide smile spreads across his face as he takes in the sight outside. There was a thick layer of pure white snow that was all across the streets below, thick enough to know that it had been probably snowing for some time and relatively hard as well. But now, nearly past midday, the snow seemed to have slowed its fall, large snowflakes falling gently to the ground. He quickly dresses for the day, digging through to find clothes he hasn’t worn in centuries. Well past their prime in terms of what was worn today, but still to his standards. Oh how he despises the cold, but watching the joy of the people seeing this sort of weather for the first time was just about worth it.

The last time Helimire had seen snow was about two hundred and fifty years prior, it was rare for it to get cold enough for the snow to stick, let alone for it to snow in general. A portion of the population of the citizens of the city-state had never seen snow in their lives, only the longer lived folks were used to it. Morgan, Nathaniel, and Christopher all enjoyed it when it did snow, because they got to see the joy on people’s faces who had never got to see it before in their lives finally experiencing it. Especially now that it fell on the winter high holiday, the start no less, this was even more special.

When Christopher opened his door, the steps, the walkway, and the street in front of him had already been cleared of the snow. Most of the main roads and streets would have been cleared of as much snow as possible. He almost wishes he hadn’t woke so late in the day, so what he was witnessing among the people now was stale reactions, but that didn’t take from the joy that still seemed to move through the streets of the city. The first thing he does for the day is go to the bakery down the road from him and procures two boxes of savory and sweet pastries, hailing a carriage and heads straight for the Helimire castle. Two people he was very excited to see today were there at the same time, and maybe with his luck, they wouldn’t have had time to go outside just yet today. He’d take his time and walk if it was any other warm day, but waking up to the cold made his leg ache more than normal, so taking a different mode of transportation was more feasible for him currently.

Once at the castle, he pays the driver well, adding extra on top for the trek even if the roads weren’t bad because of the snow. He gives a nod to the guards who let him pass, fully ignoring one who makes a face at his approach, as he enters the castle with a little grin on his face. Christopher pulls someone aside as he’s making his way through the halls and asks them where the prince and Lord Elijah were at the moment, hoping both were together.

“Lord Elijah and the prince are in Prince William’s sitting room currently, they’ve both been in some meetings and just now got a chance to sit down.” Christopher nods and grins at her happily, saying a quick thank you before he’s off, following familiar routes to the room he wants to be at. Once he’s there in front of the two large double doors, he gives a steady knock before letting himself in once a voice calls he can.

“I come bearing gifts.” He says as he walks in, seeing the two men sitting in front of a roaring fireplace. “Have the two of you been outside yet today?” Christopher asks, sitting down the boxes on a table just behind where the other two men sit.

“We’ve been in meetings all day today, but we hear it’s quite a sight out there right now.” Elijah says, standing to make his way over to Christopher, William following behind, nodding his head at what Elijah is saying.

“We hear it’s been snowing, is that right?” William asks, eyeing up the boxes as Christopher opens them. Christopher nods, beaming.

“It is! The first time in two hundred and fifty years! It is brilliant and the city is glowing.” Elijah moves to stand on the man’s other side, reaching over and twisting his fingers around the shorter man’s. He makes a little noise in the back of his throat.

“Your fingers are freezing and you’re shivering, even after being in here for some time.” There’s a sound of amusement in the ginger’s tone and Christopher can’t help but to look away, sheepish.

“I am not made for the cold, it is why I settled in Helimire all that time ago. I like the warmth, the cold brings more pain in old injuries than anything else.”

“Well, we’ll just have to warm you up then.” Elijah now takes both of Christopher’s hands into his own, pulling them up to his face and blowing into their cupped hands. Christopher feels the heat over his cheeks but can’t help the little smile that spreads across his face. After a moment, there’s another warm, large body pressing up against him from the back. He turns his head enough to see deep brown, nearly black, curls that come into view above the deep brown skin of the prince behind him.

“You two are a certain way today.” Christopher comments, but enjoys the feeling of the fluff of William’s beard against his neck as the man hooks his chin over Christopehr’s shoulder and nuzzles against his neck.

“We have to warm up our favorite citizen.” William teases. Christopher scoffs.

“My dear, if certain people heard you say that about myself, they would certainly have more hate against the royal family.” He feels William shrug.

“Let them, it’s not my damn problem.” Elijah laughs in front of him.

“With the people who hate Christopher, enough to send assassins after him, don’t think they wouldn’t do the same for you, my prince.” Elijah says, a cheeky little tone in his voice.

“Oh I’m so terrified, let them.” Christopher feels his gut roll a bit at even the idea of either one of these men getting hurt because they are well acquainted with him.

“You two, hush about that.” Christopher mumbles between them, reaching back and pressing his still slightly cold fingers against William’s neck, who hisses at the contact but doesn’t pull away. “None of that today, on a high holy event.”

“Says the borderline atheist.” Elijah points out, leaning forward to kiss Christopher on the tip of his still slightly red nose.

“Fuh! You know how I am!” Christopher pulls his other hand free of Elijah’s, wrapping his fingers around the other man’s bicep. “Please, can we go outside now? I think you two would love how the city looks donned in snow.”

“Fine, you impatient bastard.” Elijah says, his smile never leaving his face. Christopher beams. He turns around after Elijah pulls away, enough to give the prince a kiss on the cheek.

All three of them eat a bit of their fill of the little tidbits Christopher brought for them, taking a brief detour so that Elijah and William can grab clothing more befitting to the colder weather outside, especially shoes that would be more sturdy and not get snow into their feet. William wordlessly hands Christopher a thick fur coat that is too big, but Christopher still happily takes it, slipping into it and wrapping himself deep into the warmth.

“Thank you, dear prince.”

“Don’t want our eccentric gentleman getting frozen out there.” The prince says, making his way out into the hallway.

“Ugh.” Christopher grumbles under his breath with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

It’s a short distance between where the three men were, to the front exit of the castle. Christopher makes it so that he’s the first one there, so that he can open the doors for his two friends to experience what it looks like outside.

“Be careful, the sun on the snow makes it quite bright outside, so shield your eyes for a moment.” He waits for a moment so the two men take his advice before opening the doors. He has to close his own for a moment but it’s a bit easier for him to adjust, and looking at the view from the top of the area where the castle was sat, he felt a broad smile spread across his features.

“Good gods.” Christopher hears a breath from behind him and watches as Elijah and William walk in front of him a little, taking in the sight of the city covered in a thick blanket of snow for the first time in their lives. A warmth spreads through Christopher’s chest as he watches the two men look out with childlike wonder at the snow on the ground and falling from the air. He’s seen snow in his long life before, but these two have never left the city of Helimire before, unless it was to places that also never held snow before. Christopher walks up to the two of them and slips his free arm in Elijah’s, who happily supports him. Even putting an extra piece to the bottom of his cane to help with the ice and snow, he was happy to hang off a handsome man’s arm. He’ll switch up later and walk with William this way.

They once again get another carriage for the trip down, William waving off the offer of a guard or two to come with him with a grin and a nod to Christopher, saying that if anything happens he has his protection. There was a sigh from one of the guards but nothing else brought up in the moment. Christopher can’t help to snicker under his breath as he climbs into the carriage behind Elijah. The guards didn’t know of Christopher’s magic prowess, so they thought the prince was being physically protected by a man who looked as though he could hardly hold a sword. He could, but he didn’t prefer to.

Once the three get to a more populated part of town, a larger market area just outside of the park for ease of access. The three get out of the carriage and William waves it off, telling the driver to return in a few hours to the same spot. Christopher gestures to the large twisting tree in the middle of the park so that Elijah and William look up at it and how it looks with the snow covering the limbs. The three start a slow stroll through the park.

“The last time it was like this, there was a bit more panic in those who have never seen snow before. I think this time around there are more people who were around for that time to alleviate some of the anxiety regarding this weather.”

“To give them credit, as someone who’s never seen snow in his damn life,” William says, looking around. “I wouldn’t know what to do either. Still don’t really.”

“Be wary of ice spots, it gets quite slippery. Other than that, it is mostly an annoyance once the wanderlust wears off. And when it starts to melt, the dirt becomes mud.” Christopher makes a face, he enjoyed the snow as much as the next person, but the aftermath of it all was something he didn’t like. Messy. Tracking mud into places that didn’t have rooms where one took their shoes off before making their way farther in.

“It is also bad when the roads are not ready for it, or if it gets too cold, pipes can freeze. Helimire is not used to such cold weather, but I do not think it got cold enough to do any lasting damage to homes and other spaces.”

“Is it really that bad?” Elijah asks and Christopher nods.

“Back when we were first getting piping, mostly in the larger places of business, the first time it snowed after that, it got very cold. Too cold for the pipes to handle the freeze then the thaw, we had a bit of flooding in the library back then. We have then since found ways to deal with it, but still. The issue still could arise if it were to get any colder.” Christopher stops the three of them in front of one of the numerous stalls selling things for the festival, everything was decked out in decorations, some covered by snow, but most were uncovered throughout the day, the ones on the tree were a bit hard to see at the moment.

On this particular stall was a person selling various trinkets and accessories with symbols of Tromm on them, snowflakes of various sizes, flora and fauna that only grew in the colder climates, and fabrics that were lighter in color than the typical Helimire deep ones. Christopher ran his fingers over partially see through a bit of fabric and hummed softly.

“Thinking about getting it?” William asks, resting a large hand on the small of Christopher’s back as the two lean in to look at the sheer blue white fabric.

“I may buy a bolt and take it to Augustine, wonderful tailor. See what he would make me with it.” Images run through his mind of an outer top made from it, showing off dark fabric underneath, contrasting with the lightness.

“I’d say go for it, would be nice to see you in something not so dark.” Elijah says with a teasing tone.

“You are simply the least Helimire type man to ever live in this city.” Christopher chuckles and pulls out coin for the full bolt, the person happily accepting it and pulling out another identical one to replace it once traded.

“Layers are quite nice and all, but I do love my less deep colors.”

“Good, it suits you.” Christopher tells him, tucking his newly acquired fabric under his arm to carry it. He really should have brought something to store it in. “How about lunch… or… a bit of a late lunch?” Christopher asks, already starting to walk off. The little things he brought everyone was something, but not enough.

“Sounds like a plan.” William says, following happily behind the other man.

It’s not much of a walk to where Christopher had picked out for their meal spot, the snow had stopped at this point so the little outside area of the little restaurant had cleaned off and reopened their outdoor seating, the three men finding places by the road to take a seat. Christopher gets himself a hot black tea and a heavy bowl of a type of fish stew, Elijah gets a small cup of thick and rich coffee and a spicy grain dish with multiple types of seafood, finally William has himself a strawberry herbal tea with a plate of various fried seafood. This was Chrsitopher’s favorite place, both because its food was phenomenal, but also because it was close to his own home.

“How much sugar are you going to put in that, doll?” Elijah asks with a chuckle after he takes a sip of his coffee, watching as Christopher puts another little spoonful of sugar into the clear cup of tea in front of him. The man grumbles something under his breath and burrows himself deeper into the oversized fur coat that he was borrowing.

“You drink your coffee black and incredibly strong, we are not going to talk about my sugar quantities.” He puts another spoonful in for good measure before taking a sip and giving a little grin. “Perfect. Dear William here is the only one having a normal drink between us.”

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, and strong drinks are too much.” William shrugs, leaning back in his chair to take a sip of his own tea.

“You’ll outlive us all.” Elijah says with a wink.

“We’ll see about that one.” William counters, winking back.

After some idle chat while eating their food, the three are asked if they would like anything sweet for the end of their meal, and Christopher pipes up first, asking for a double order of the rich tiramisu he knows and loves from here. It’s rich and perfect, even after the heavy main meals they had. But Christopher was always ready for something sweet, no matter the time.

“Is there anywhere you two would like to go, before we head back?” Christopher asks, unconsciously burrowing himself more into the coat as a bit of sea wind spreads through the city, bringing down the temperature a bit.

“I think you’d rather head back now.” William says with a teasing smile.

“The celebrations.” Christopher mumbles, looking out towards the rest of the city.

“Will be here tomorrow as well, you of all people know how these go, they might only say one day but people love celebrations in Helimire.” Elijah says, reaching over and putting a hand on Christopher’s wrist.

“We’ll head back for the rest of the day, come back out for more fun tomorrow. I doubt that there was much going on today anyways, with the surprise of the snow and all.”

“Mmm,” Christopher hums softly, nodding. “I did not see that many people out anyways, I could use a comfortable warm room anyways.” William nods and stands, holding out a hand for Christopher to take, Elijah grabbing the bolt of fabric from earlier to carry. The three take their time getting back to the designated spot where they were going to meet up with the carriage once again, having a bit of time left before it comes. While standing and waiting, William nudges Christopher and nods his head towards an open space where some children are running around and enjoying the snow, rolling balls of it in their hands and throwing it at one another, joy filled laughter filling the air around them.

“Toss one at them.” Christopher whispers to William with a smirk. “Most of the Helimire population knows you already love being among them, go show off a bit.” He kisses the prince’s cheek, feeling more than seeing when the prince smiles, his round cheeks pushing out farther as he does.

“Sounds like an idea.” William gently pulls his arm from Christopher’s and kneels down in the snow, pulling a pile of snow into his hands and shaping it into a sphere. He makes his way towards the kids, pulling back his arm, and throwing one into the group. It’s not hard, but enough to jostle the one teen it does seem to hit, a willowy fae with wide purple eyes, who turns their head to the prince. They take a moment to look at him with shock, before their eyes go impossibly wide at the sight of the prince standing before them, broad grin on his soft square face. They laugh, the other kids following along once they realize as well, all of them dogpiling onto the prince after another moment.

Christopher can heal Elijah chuckle from his side, the man moving and touching the small of Christopher’s back as he moves to his other side to stand close, the two men’s shoulders brushing.

“He’ll make a good king one day, even though he’d rather be down here among the people.” Elijah comments, watching the kids as they group up on the prince and take him down into the snow, everyone laughing as they do.

“He will,” Christopher nods. “He can still be among his people when he is king, just as his parents are now. Of course, some things will change ever so slightly, but he still has his freedom.” Christopher’s fingers tighten on his cane as he watches the prince with a fondness in his eyes, the smallest smile on his face.

“We’ll still have him, even when he’s king, you know that Christopher. Don’t you?” Elijah asks, turning to face the man next to him, concern on his face. Christopher presses his lips together and his eyes fall to the ground in front of him, to the clean road, only some snow sticking to it now, to the snow underfoot that crunches as he shifts.

“There will be those who think I am too close to William once he is crowned. I have a more professional relationship with his parents. Not him. Everyone knows the relationship we have, that the three of us have. I do not want this to get him hurt.” He gestures between himself, Elijah, and William across the way.

“Christopher…” Elijah’s voice is soft, he reaches out with his free hand and grabs Christopher’s in his own, curling their fingers together. “Doll, you know that neither William nor I care about what the public thinks when it comes to the three of us. This has been happening for years and nothing has come of it.”

“That is because nothing public has happened. At least public enough that people have justifiable reasoning to… to do something about it. If something were to happen to the two of you, just as if something were to happen to my twin, I do not know what I would do with myself. The prince should know better.” Christopher looks up to Elijah, his eyes slightly shiny.

“He should, just as I should. But that isn’t going to stop either of us when it comes to our feelings for one another, and our feelings towards you specifically. We adore you. At least, I know I adore you, I love you, and I know William feels some sort of way as well.” Christopher’s face is flushed now, a deep red, stark against his pale skin.

“Let’s have a night in, the three of us, old friends who happen to love each other dearly. Without the thought of what might happen down the road, and celebrate the festival and the snow.”

“I can do that.” Christopher whispers, his voice soft and fond.

“If anyone saw you like this now, I don’t think they would recognize the brooding eclectic man they all know.” Christopher can’t help the smile that appears on his face. The sound of wheels against the ground pulls the two out of their conversation, watching as William’s carriage returns.

“Dear Prince, it’s time to head home now!” Elijah calls, he and Chrsitopher watches as he pops up from behind a pile of snow, his dark curls weighed down slightly from the snow in it. Both men chuckle as they watch the prince ruffle some of the kids' hair, making his way back over to the two.

“Have fun?” Christopher asks, grin on his face.

“Absolutely! Now I see why people enjoy the snow so much, that was so fun.” William reaches up and cups the back of Christopher’s neck.

“Gods, William, your hands are ice!” Christopher shifts forward, away from William’s hand. The larger man laughs and drops his head down and kisses Christopher’s forehead. Elijah laughs at the two of them and eventually they make their way into the carriage, returning to the castle for the rest of the evening.

Christopher, once out of the carriage, instantly heads towards his favorite room in Helimire castle. Dark wood walls, a large study that also holds a bed. It might have been his some time ago when he spent time in the castle with whatever royal family it was at the time. The king at the time let him repurpose the room, so he made it into something for himself, a room and a place to do work while he was there. He drops the coat at the side of the door and leans his cane up against the desk, and throws himself on the large bed, happily.

“Not even going to change?” William asks as he follows in behind, picking up the coat and hanging it in the little wardrobe in the opposite corner.

“Not at the moment.” Christopher mumbles, running his hands over his face and through his hair as he stretches, bones popping as he does. Elijah follows behind, chuckling softly. He toes off his shoes and pulls off one of the two layers he wears typically, undoing the shirt he wears enough to show off a bit of skin. He crawls into the bed on one side of Christopher and quickly tugs the man into his arms, wrapping him up tight and holding him close. Christopher burrows himself as close as he can get, smiling against Elijah’s neck when he feels the bed dip behind him, and another set of arms wrap around him.

“You two are my heart.” Christopher says accent thickening as he speaks the older Helimire language, only loud enough so that Elijah and William can hear him. He feels the prince pull back the top he was wearing, enough so that he can kiss the skin at the back of his neck softly.

“Help me with this.” Christopher says, pulling back and sitting up, removing the first top he wears, sheer and flowing, decorative more than anything else. They all take a moment to get more comfortable, slipping out of clothes until all of them are down to the bare minimum, Christopher getting out of the bed to pull something flowy and to his shins to wear.

“No fair, you have clothes here.” William says, watching Christopher put the slip on with a little grin.

“This is where you live, William, you can go get your own. Just as Elijah has some here as well, somewhere.” Christopher grins, pushing his hair out of his face, a bit annoyed at how long it has gotten at the moment. “But truly I think I would just love to see you two in nothing but your… well. Nothing, but close to nothing is well enough.” There’s a cheeky grin on his face as he eyes up both broad men on the bed. They had nearly the same builds, William was a bit taller than Elijah, with a bit less fat on him than Elijah. He sits back on the bed once again between the two of them, settling back against the thick blankets and his two men.

Celebrate tonight, Christopher thinks to himself, celebrate tonight and tomorrow, then you can go back to worrying about the future with these two. Enjoy whatever they give and remember it forever. He goes with the push and pull of the two, curling in on them both and their warmth, of the love they give him and continue to give him, despite all the people telling them they shouldn’t. How there were better people for either of them, how Elijah and William should just have one another, that should be enough for them, and Christopher should just stay being the eccentric recluse. To melt back into just being a citizen of Helimire and stop trying to make change.

But that’s not something he can do, not something he can ever do, the city is his livelihood. The last thing Christopher would do is stop trying to have it continue to move forward, despite the attempts of some of the council members who wish for it to be stagnant, to be as it is. No progress, no nothing. Despite the fact that if there was movement, they would get better assets and such.

“Get out of your head, doll.” He hears Elijah, voice soft, his hands moving to cup Christopher’s face to bring him in for a slow kiss.

“I am trying.” Christopher whispers against his mouth once they part, resting their foreheads together.

“Try harder.” William says from behind him, wrapping his thick arms around Christopher’s middle, hands resting on his stomach, fingers pressing into the softness that’s there. He drops one hand down and rests it over William’s, squeezing his fingers softly. He was always in his head, it was easy to be there, but that also meant that it was easier to spiral into thoughts he hated to think about. But Christopher had distractions here with him, he should focus on that. So he turns his head and presses his mouth against William’s, turning so he can reach up and push his fingers through the man’s wiry beard.

“Distract me then, the both of you.” Christopher mumbles against the prince’s mouth, a certain tone in his voice. He hears Elijah laugh from behind him and the man slot himself against his back, large belly pressing into him, warmth all around from both men. He is happily distracted for the remainder of the night.

#writeblr #fantasy fiction #queer fantasy #helimire

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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 3 years ago

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Second chances and unspoken promises (TH) 🔥

Word count: 7.2k

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Summary: three years since the fall of your secret relationship, and a journey back to the place it all started. You could be leaving even more heartbroken, or maybe the stars will align and it'll be your time.

Warnings: some angst, fluff, smut. Secret relationship. Talk of a long secret relationship during early years. Break up, slight insecurities, overall I think that's it (let me know if you see anything I didn't mention)

Additional warnings: oral (f receiving) fingering, showering together, unprotected sex (don't be silly)

A/n this took me so long to finish 🙄 but here it finally is 😁

~~~

Your tires skidded to a stop on the blanket of white snow that led up the driveway of the large secluded cabin. The weather had progressively gotten worse from when you had first begun your drive until now, visibility dwindling quickly due to the large snowflakes fluttering down. You were sure with how heavily the snow was falling, by morning all the cars that lined the large drive would be covered.

It had been a few years since all of you had made the journey up, everyone's life becoming jam packed, and busy. This trip itself was a last minute plan. Sam had called just a few days prior, insisting you join. Something about a dire need for nostalgia or something to the effect.

The December's up here we're rough. Quite often having blizzards that would bury the cabin owners in for days, but even that didn't stop the Hollands. This year only the three eldest boys, and close friends Harrison Osterfeild and Tuwaine Barrett, had made the trek up, knowing the weather forecast was warning of a hefty snow storm.

You had been coming up to the Hollands family cabin since you were a tot, when your parents would accompany you, you were on every trip, so much so you had your own room, separated from the boys as you were always the only girl. This cabin was the place you had your first kiss, the place you lost your virginity, and it was also the place your heart had been broken into a million pieces.

You weren't sure exactly what had made you say yes, knowing the last time you stood inside the four walls, your world had crumbled down around you. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was just because you were reluctant to believe that that had really been the end.. three long years, and you were still just as in love with him as you were the first time you kissed him at only eleven, under the stairs in the potter closet.

You took a deep breath before shutting off your engine, not actually prepared to deal with the chill that was going to take over as soon as you opened the door to walk to the boot and collect your bag. You pushed the door open, swinging your feet out to the plush snow that was still coming down, you could get your bag and run, but that ran the risk of falling on your ass and making yourself freeze, or you could just endure the two minutes max it would take you.

You relentlessly walked to the back of the car, grabbing your heavy bag and lighter one as well before walking up the not so recently shoveled path.

You could hear the words echoing in your head as you neared the front door. "Your not enough y/n, your not worth it," the words had shattered you, making you feel less than a dirty tissue. You stood in the door that day, as you watched the love of your life leave, destined to do spectacular things, leaving you behind and broken. The worst part? No one had ever known what had gone on between the two of you. Years, of secret meet ups, stolen kisses, and dumb excuses.

The closest anyone had ever come to finding the truth was the winter of 2018, when Sam had seen Tom leaving your room in the middle of the night, hair a mess and sweaty as he sneaked back to his room. Somehow you had managed to convince him he had imagined the whole thing.. you still weren't sure how that had worked in your favor.

You took the final steps to the large oak door, glancing at the slab of concrete that held each of your hand prints embedded next to your names, ordered from oldest to youngest. Toms, yours, Sam's, Harry's and then Paddy's little baby hand, him barely being a year when you had made the sweet memory.

"Alright," you whispered as you turned the handle stepping into the toasty cabin. The smell of pasta hit you instantly, something you were sure Sam was whipping up. You heard loud conversations coming from in the main family room, with light music playing in the background. You dropped your bags down next to the staircase, slipping your boots off and onto the mat, and then stripping your heavy coat off, leaving you in just leggings, a light hoodie, and your maroon beanie. Nerves picking up at this point, unaware of who was here yet, and how you would be greeted, having not seen everyone in so long. There was a pattering coming towards you as you looked over to see the grown staffy running at you. "Hi Tess," you sang as you got to her level, letting her greet you with slobbery kisses. "Missed you too darling," you told her as you scratched her head.

"Tessa?" Tom called, rounding the corner and stopping at the sight of you with the pup, a sight he had seen before, when she was smaller, and you were his. "Hi," he whispered.

You glanced up, smiling before getting to your feet, Tess not leaving your side. "Hi Tommy," you said, barely above a whisper. Neither of you moved, standing there just looking at each other as if you were in a standoff, waiting to see who would do or say something first.

"Hey Tom do you- oh my god Y/n's here," Harry yelled pushing past his stunned older brother to wrap you in a long overdue hug. "Missed you kid," he told you, squeezing you too tight.

"Harry," you giggled, swatting at his curly red hair.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just been so long," he pointed out.

"Y/n?" Sam's voice was eager as he rounded the corner, nearly in a Sprint as he made his way to you. "God I'm so glad you came!" He screeched as he lifted you into his arms.

"Me too," you hummed, returning the hug.

"C'mon, let's go introduce you to everyone," Harry urged, grabbing your hand.

"Everyone?" You asked in confusion.

"Harrison, Tuwaine, and Sam's girlfriends," Harry told you. You nodded, not being aware there would be other girls on the trip. The news actually excited you, maybe the estrogen would calm the boys down from being so rowdy and rambunctious.

"Grace, Molly, Clark-" Harry announced, making the three girls turn towards you. "This is Y/n y/l/n, our oldest friend,"

The three girls got up making their way to you, as the four of you exchanged pleasantries.

"We have heard so much about you!" Gracie exclaimed.

"I'm really glad to finally not be the only girl up here," you admitted as you were ushered over to sit with the three of them.

Meanwhile, Tom was still standing in the front hall, not sure what to do with himself. He had thought that seeing you would be easy. You were just y/n, after all. But when his eyes met yours, the pink hue of your cheeks and nose, sent his mind rushing back to years prior, when he would pull you into the potter closet, freshly in from the snow, kissing the tip of your nose and cradling your hands as he attempted to warm you up. You would never know how much he had loved you, how much he had appreciated and cherished every stolen moment the two of you had shared together, up until the last one. The words still burned his throat, remembering the look on your face as he said them, desperate to not hurt you, but he somehow had managed to screw that up. He had just wanted to let you live your life, not following him around as his life had gotten too overwhelming, he hadn't wanted to put that stress on you, knowing you would have endured it for him, even if it killed you.

But to see you, just a few steps from him, letting Tess slobber on you with her kisses, nose red, cheeks rosy, in your signature cold outfit, wearing his old hoodie. He wanted to take it all back, he wanted to have crossed the distance pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as he whispered how badly he missed you, and then to pull away, to meet your lips with his, in a warm kiss, a kiss that would bring it all back, every broken promise, every missed opportunity, every longing feeling..

"You alright mate?" Haz asked, bringing Tom out of his head.

"M'allright," Tom lied, knowing Harrison could see right through him, he was the only one who knew, knew how desperately Tom had loved you, how crushed he had been when he called things off, how hard it had been as he walked away from who he was sure was the one. You had been his first, first kiss, first shag, first love, first heartbreak… and he desperately wanted you to be his last. Last love, last kiss, last goodnight, last person he held in his arms on his deathbed. He was sure there was no way, not with the look you had given him three years prior, tears threatening to spill over the brim of your eyes, bottom lip quivering, as you just watched him leave, watched him walk out of your life with no promise to ever return..

This was sure to be a long trip..

You nestled your way between Harry and Tess laying your head on Harry's shoulder with your hot chocolate in your hands listening to the conversation they were all having. The fire in the wood burning stove was blazing, radiating a heat that was warming you all to the core. Dinner had come and gone with some slight small talk, leading to everyone shifting to the family room. Sam was in the middle of telling Tuwaine something, to which you weren't paying attention when Molly asked you a question.

"So y/n, do you have a boyfriend?" She asked, politely. Your cheeks flushed red as you lifted your head from where it was resting on Harry's shoulder before.

"No, no boyfriend," you told her with a chuckle.

"Really?" Grace interjected, now solely intrigued with the gossip. "How long since you had one?" She wondered.

"Three years, actually, pretty close to the day," you took a deep breath all to aware of Tom's, eyes directly on you from across the couch.

"Three years? Must have been some heartbreak," Clark said, a pitying look on her face. Truth be told, Tom was never your boyfriend, never having put a label on whatever it was the two of you had been doing, but she was right, it was definitely 'some heartbreak'.

"Yeah, I just wasn't enough," you said quietly, an ache in your chest knowing the man who had said those words sitting just a short distance from you.

"No way," Clark shook her head. "He wasn't good enough for you," she shot you a sweet smile.

"That's true," Tom muttered from where he had been sitting quietly on the couch, making all the girls turn towards him.

"Did you know him?" Grace asked. Tom's eyes widened, realizing he had spoken too loud.

"I- yeah," he sighed, knowing they were going to quiz him on the subject now.

"Was he awful?" Molly wondered.

"No, he was great,"

"He was an ass,"

You and Tom had spoken at the same time, you looked up, eyes meeting him in a lingering stare. "He was great," you repeated, not looking away from him.

"How could you still think that after what i- he said to you?" Tom asked. With your attention fully on him, you could almost forget the others in the room with you.

"He was young, I was younger. Life caught up with us and made the fantasy we were living too real too fast, doesn't mean I have to hate him. I still love him, never stopped…" you reached next to you scratching in between Tessa's ears. "Sometimes you have to push past the hurt to try and understand other people," you whispered, not daring to look up.

"Is he your soulmate?" Harry asked. You looked besides you, not even aware that he had tuned into the conversation.

"I don't know," you chuckled.

You looked across from you to see Tom's sight glued to his hands in his lap, completely unreadable.

"Have you been with anyone since?" Grace asked, everyone turning to you.

"Like?"

"Sexually?"

"Oh," you felt your cheeks heat up at the question. "No actually, he's the only man I have ever been with," you admitted, making Tom's head shoot up to look at you, shock plastered on his face.

"Three years?" Harry gasped, Dramatically sliding down as though he was wounded. "That's too damn long to not be laid," he told you.

"I agree," Grace giggled.

You shook your head and let out a chuckle. You had never been able to bring yourself to move on, fear that it would be betraying your heart, which clearly belonged to someone else, after so many years, it still belonged to him..

It was nearly two am when the welcoming conversation died down, Clark and Sam excusing themselves first, followed closely by Harry, and Then you.

You grabbed your bags, heading up the stairs to the room that had been yours for so many years. The door creaked open, as you pushed through, dropping your bags at the end of the old bed before switching on the lamp. A picture of you and Tom neatly placed in a frame next to it.

You could still remember the day it was taken, Niki had been following behind all of you as you hiked up the big hill to sled down. You had lost your balance, falling over and pulling Tom down with you, into a soft pile of snow. The smiles on your faces as you had been giggling were so pure, filled with love and adoration. Even Niki could see that, snapping a picture of the moment to be frozen in time forever.

You walked over to the bed, sitting down lightly as you watched the snow fall from out the window. The view was mesmerizing. The white blanket covering the ground making it impossible for it to be dark.

You had forgotten how at home it felt here, being where you had grown into a woman, almost every important defining moment happening within these four walls. There was a soft knock on the door.

"Yeah?" You called out. The door creaked open, and Harrison's head peaked in.

"Can we talk for a sec?" He asked you.

"Sure," you nodded to him, before he finished opening the door and walking over to sit beside you.

"I know it really isn't my place to tell you this, but he loves you. He's crazy about you, and that never stopped," he looked over to gauge your reaction.

"Haz,"

"Y/n, I know that what he did was awful, but you have to know his intentions were pure," you took a deep breath and nodded before sitting back to hear what he had to say. "You knew how busy he got during the civil war, and then with homecoming and infinity war it was even worse, he didn't want to put you through it anymore. With Endgame, and Far from home he had almost no time to do anything else. And he knew it was going to be that way, he knew he wasn't going to be able to be there for you," he explained.

"He told me-"

"I know. I know what he said, and I'm not saying you have to forgive him, but just know, he didn't mean it, okay?" He looked at you with his soft blue eyes, trying to fix his best friend's mess. Honestly, what Tom had done hurt you, but you knew he hadn't meant it, there was no way he had meant it.

"Okay," you nodded.

"Okay, got to get back to Gracie now," he told you as he jumped up and rushed out. You turned your attention back to the window, hopeful that this trip would get you answers, or at least some closure.

You opened your eyes to the splattering noise at your window. You could see the remnants of an exploded snowball splattered about. You rolled out of bed, pulling the fuzzy blanket that had been on top of you around your body as you made your way to the window. Sam was bundled up, running as Harry charged at him, a freshly made snowball in hand as Tom stood holding Tessa's leash as he watched his younger brothers goofing off.

He glanced up to the window seeing you looking down at him and lifted his hand in an awkward wave. You giggled and waved back, walking away from the window, and making your way downstairs. The quietness of the house led you to believe everyone else was still asleep. You walked over to the still lit wood stove and tossed in a few more logs to ensure the heat would continue.

You had never been a great cook, you were actually certifiably bad, but you still decided to go to the kitchen and begin to pull out the ingredients for breakfast.

You were on your tiptoes about to reach the flour when you heard the front door open and felt the gust of wind.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked casually as he walked up to the fire sticking his red hands out to get warm.

"Breakfast," you proudly stated.

"God, no, please y/n, anything but that," Harry groaned as he made his way in.

"Hey!" You pouted. You couldn't actually be offended, you would have probably ended up giving everyone food poisoning had you gone through with the cooking.

"Don't bully her, she's not that bad of a cook," Tom said as he rounded the corner pulling the beanie from his head to expose his crazy hair. "She makes some mean cookies," Tom reminded them.

"Oh no," Harry groaned, falling back onto the couch.

"Baking and cooking are two completely separate things Tom," Sam started.

"You had to open that can of worms?" Harry asked, looking at Tom.

"See the science behind-"

"God! No Sam!" Harry groaned again, making a giggle erupt from your chest.

"I want to hear Sammy, tell me," you instructed leaning against the counter. Sam shot a cocky look over to Harry before turning and lecturing you for the next thirty minutes on the differences in cooking and baking, and why chefs were not considered bakers and vice versa. By the end you were sitting at the kitchen island as Sam finished the pancakes and bacon.

"Interesting," you mumbled as he slid a plate of food your way.

"It truly is," he agreed. You grabbed your fork beginning to eat the food on your plate when you felt a hand on the low of your back. You glanced up with your mouth full to see Tom standing beside you, not even aware of where his hand was placed, or if he was, he wasn't showing it. "Here," Sam said as he slid the plate to him.

"Thanks Lad," he said as he sat down onto the stool next to you, hand leaving your back as he moved it to grab his fork. He noticed the look on your face of shock. "You alright?" He wondered.

"Uh- yeah, I'm okay," you nodded, turning your attention back to the food In front of you.

One single touch and you were completely undone, couldn't even muster the ability to speak. What were you supposed to do for the next week and a half? You weren't sure you could manage…

"Morning y/n," Clarke said as she walked up behind you. "Morning handsome," she said to Sam.

"Morning beautiful," he said before rounding the counter to giver a quick peck and set a plate In Front of her. "Eat," he instructed. She sat down next to you and started to eat the food. Soon enough everyone had woken up and eaten breakfast.

"We should go up to the hot springs," Harry said from in front of the fireplace.

"Awful idea," Harrison laughed.

"Why?" Gracie asked suddenly.

"The water is nice and warm, but then when you get out you're still wet and have to hike back down to the cabin, it's miserable," he explained quickly.

She nodded, "yeah we will pass,"

"Okay," Harry shook his head, "Sam? Clarke?"

"Yeah we will go," Sam answered.

"Cool, y/n? Tom?"

You glanced up from where your nose had been buried In a book having heard your name called with Tom's. "What?" You asked.

"Hot springs?"

"Ohh, yeah, I'll go," you sent Harry a smile and glanced over to Tom who had raised brows.

"Count me in too," he said, not looking away from you.

"OK, I'll go see about the other two," he announced, jumping to his feet.

"Don't barge in Baz, you'll see something you don't want to see," Harrison laughed, causing everyone else to give a disgusted groan. "What? You all believe they have been "resting" all morning?" He asked.

"No but you didn't need to say it," Clarke laughed burying her head back into Sam's shoulder.

Everyone walked ahead of you through the soft snow. The hike up the hill itself wasn't extremely hard, but with the added difficulty of the freshly fallen snow, it seemed to be a much more daunting task. The hot springs were just a little past the sledding hill, and should have only been about a ten minute walk, but you were sure it was easily minute twenty by now.

Tom could see you struggling, just like old times, he fell back from the rest of the group until you caught up with him. "Here," he said, offering out his arm.

You grabbed it eagerly, as you attempted to keep your dwindling balance. "thanks," you mumbled as the two of you began to walk.

"How have you been?" Tom asked quietly. Looking over at your rosy tinted face.

"Alright, working a lot.. you?" You asked.

"Working," he agreed with a chuckle.

"The Netflix film was good," you told him.

"You watched that?" He wondered. You could sense the surprise in his voice.

"Of course Tommy, I've watched everything you have been in," you chuckled.

You could see from your peripheral vision that his cheeks seemed to get a darker shade of red. "Your favorite?" He asked.

"Most definitely civil war," you said. "Recognize that butt anywhere," you giggled.

"Oh shit up," he groaned, rolling his eyes. You couldn't help the nostalgic feel that washed over you

You and Tom trailing behind, lost in your own conversation, while everyone else was way ahead, not minding the two of you. You're not sure how no one ever caught on to the two of you, you were sure, had you been an outsider looking in, it would have been painfully obvious as to what was going on.

"You remember winter of 17'?" You asked.

"Hard to forget, we came out here almost every day," Tom chuckled.

"That year was a good one," you sighed.

"Winter of 18' was pretty good though," Tom said, glancing over to you.

"The beginning," you nodded.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's ok Tommy, I know you didn't," you told him, a sudden sadness in your eyes as you cut him off.

"I wish I could take it back," he whispered.

"Do things differently?" You asked.

"Yeah, I wouldn't have hid what we had, you deserved to be shown off to the world, not pulled into the closet Every Time I wanted to kiss you," he explained.

"Hey," you said, "I have some of my best memories in that potter closet," you teased.

"Yeah," Tom sighed. "I do to,"

You both walked in a comfortable silence before finally catching up with the others at the natural hot springs, the water letting off a beautiful steam, surrounded by white fluffy snow.

"It's gorgeous out here!" Clarke exclaimed as she shimmied out of her clothes to rush into the water.

"Not as gorgeous as you, sweetheart," Sam teased.

"Blegh," Harry faked a gag. "Stop being so gross," he told his twin.

"Oh, piss off Baz," Sam quipped back.

She was right though, it was a gorgeous sight, and it brought back many fond memories to be back.

"Ok, y/n, craziest sexual experience?" Clark asked as you all settled in the hot water.

"What?" You asked shocked.

"She does this, you'll get used to it," Harry told you.

"Oh, well.. what classifies as crazy?" You asked.

"Public, secret, kinky.. whatever you can think." She explained.

"Ok, well I guess there was this one time, up at a ski lodge. We were stopped on a trail because someone had eaten it pretty badly, and so we just went behind the trees and-"

"Y/n!" Tom interrupted.

You glanced over to him to see his face red in shock, and noticed the other three also had a shocked look on their faces.

"What?" You asked quickly.

"How do you and Tom have almost an identical story?" Sam asked.

You felt your stomach tighten up. Of course this hadn't been a new question. You should have just lied and kept the story to yourself. "I.. I don't know," you said pathetically.

"Y/n.." Harry deadpanned. "Who was it with you at the ski lodge?"

You felt your face flush even redder, as you didn't know what to say or how to get yourself out of this mess.

"Oh My God!" Sam exclaimed. "I knew I wasn't fucking crazy," he announced turning to Harry. "I caught Tom sneaking out of Y/n's room one night!"

"Wait a minute-" Tom interrupted.

"No. No, you two were shagging," Sam accused with a bony finger pointing at Tom.

"Sam it's not-"

"You're not denying it?!" Harry gasped looking back and forth between the two of you.

You sighed loudly as you looked at Tom, who looked just about as embarrassed as you felt.

"How long?!" Sam asked. "When did it start?"

Tom sighed before shooting you an apologetic look. "First time was in 2013," Tom said.

"2013!? Thomas! You lost your virginity to Y/n?!" Harry exclaimed, completely shocked.

"That was after two years of a lot of kissing and hand stuff," Tom admitted.

"Tommy!" You exclaimed, throwing him a look.

"Let me get this straight," Harry chuckled dryly. "The two of you started to mess around at 14 and 15?"

"More or less," you told him.

"And you just kept it hidden?" Sam asked.

"I mean… yeah," Tom admitted.

"So how long did it last?" Clarke asked.

"Until the winter after Infinity war," Tom said.

"Thomas, that's like seven years," Sam pointed out.

"Well if you count from the first time we kissed then-"

"Tom stop," you instructed. "Yeah me and Tom, did things, and we hid it because we knew it would cause problems," you explained.

"For who?" Sam asked, confused.

"For us," You told him, "Tom was twenty two and I was twenty one and I told him that I would come with him, but that meant Making things real between us, and leaving the little bubble we had created, so he called it off," you explained.

"Is that what you think?" Tom asked.

"No, that's what happened," you told him.

"No, you had just been accepted into uni, and I had to leave for filming, and I told you I didn't want to be without you, so you offered to give up on uni. I couldn't let you do that, I needed you to live out your dream, that's why I called it off," Tom admitted.

"What?" You asked shocked.

"You thought this whole time I was scared to commit to you?" Tom wondered.

"Umm, yeah," you admitted.

"I feel like this is a very private conversation," Clarke whispered to Sam.

"Shh, it's about to get better," he told her quietly.

"Y/n, I only did what I did because I was so in love with you," Tom whispered, as he moved closer to you.

"Tom, you told me and I quote 'you are not enough y/n. You're not worth it'" you reminded him.

"Only because I couldn't see any other way to get you to let me go, it was wrong, and I shouldn't have said that, because I didn't mean it…" he explained. His eyes were warm and genuine as he brought his hand up to your cheek. "The only thing I ever wanted with you was the real deal. I wanted to bring you home to my parents, even though you grew up knowing them. I wanted to have you on my arm at the premieres and at random galas I have to attend, but I knew that uni was your dream, and you worked so hard for it, I couldn't be the reason you missed out on that," he explained.

"I graduated early," you blurted without thinking.

"What?" Tom asked, eyebrows furrowing together.

"I graduated last month. A year early, I got my bachelor's degree in business," you told him.

"Y/n, that is amazing," he exclaimed, pulling you into his arms.

"Yeah, I achieved my dream," you mumbled against his chest.

"That's so great, I'm so proud of you," he told you before Pulling back and crashing his lips into yours, for a moment you nearly forgot about the company that was with you, being completely captivated by his lips on yours.

"I want to say I didn't see that coming," Sam chuckled.

"I didn't," Harry admitted.

"Awweee," Clark exclaimed.

Tom pulled away, whispering a quick sorry before moving back to sit down, but not letting his hand leave where it rested around your waist.

You spent the next two hours at the hot springs explaining how you snuck around for so many years without anyone finding out.

You walked up the steps to the back door of the cabin completely frozen from your wet undergarments underneath your clothes. "I call shower first!" You exclaimed running through the door and straight through the kitchen and the living room towards the stairs.

"Have fun?" You heard Harrison call out.

"Frozen solid, I'll answer when I've thawed," you called back.

You slipped your clothes off before you started the water, letting it warm up. You slipped your chilled body into the warm stream, feeling the pins and needles from the sudden temperature change.

There was a soft knock on the door before it opened.

"I'll be fast," you called out not knowing who had come in.

"You're going to use all the hot water," Tom's voice teased.

You peaked your head out the curtain seeing him leaning against the counter with a smirk on his face. "I don't take that long," you told him.

"You know, we could just shower together, save water." He told you.

"What an environmentalist, you are," you teased.

"Is that a no?" He Wondered.

"Did I say no?" You asked, feeling your stomach fill with butterflies.

You heard him chuckle before the sound of a zipper. "Y/n?" He asked.

"Yeah, Tommy?" You bit down on your bottom lip waiting anxiously.

"You can tell me to leave, I'd understand it if you didn't want me around," he nearly whispered, fear lacing his tone.

"Tommy,"

"Yeah y/n?"

"Better get in here before I use all the hot water," you quipped. You didn't have to tell him again, with one swift motion, the curtain opened just enough for him to slip into the rather small shower. His hands found your waist almost instantly, pushing your body against the cold tile, crashing his lips into yours. It was nothing new, you had done this so many times before, but there was just something different about it. Maybe it was that you hadn't been with him in three years, or maybe it was because now you weren't hiding, or maybe, just maybe, it was because life had finally aligned just right, and it was your time.

You reached your fingers up to the nape of his neck, fingers twiddling with the curls. His fingers dug into your hips as he pushed his bare body against yours.

Your skin burned under his touch, a fire blazing inside of you. Tom's lips moved from your mouth down to your jaw and then to your neck.

"Y/n?" Harrison's voice called out, you hadn't even heard the door open. Tom lifted his head from your neck and you clasped your hand over his mouth.

"Yeah Haz?" You asked.

"You and Tom talked?" He wondered.

"Little bit," you admitted as Tom chuckled, shaking his head.

"Good, good. Was worried he was going to be a puss and never admit his truths to you," he said, making Tom furrow his brows together. "He can be a real div, ya know. Never knows the right thing to say," at this point you rolled your eyes knowing very well that Harrison was more than aware that Tom was in the shower with you, and was just trying to push his buttons. Which seemed to be working. Tom gripped your wrist pulling your hand from his mouth.

"Hey mate, while I do love hearing about my flaws," tom said, "I'd really like to make up for losing the last three years here, so unless you're trying to hear that-"

"I'm going," Harrison chuckled, exiting the bathroom in a rather quick fashion.

"We will never live this down," you pointed out.

"Honestly y/n, who cares," he whispered, returning his lips to your neck, sucking slightly on your sweet spot.

Your fingers laced into his curly hair tugging lightly. "Tommy," you whimpered.

The thing that had always been so easy between the two of you was that Tom had helped you discover yourself. Everything you had ever wanted, Tom had given you, he was one one of the most understanding and patient men you had ever met. So as you withered away under his lips on your neck whimpering his name, he knew just what you wanted.

He slipped his hand from where it was placed on your hip, down to your aching core.

"Right here, darling?" He asked as he pushed his knee between your legs, giving him enough room to slip his hand between your thighs.

"Please," you begged. His fingers slid seamlessly through your already soaking folds.

"Always so good for me," he whispered into your ear, making your knees feel weak.

He trailed his fingers through your folds and right up to your clit, rubbing slight circles on the little bundle of nerves. You dropped your head to his shoulder, letting out a moan.

"Tommy- s..So good," you told him before he gently pushed a finger in.

"Still so tight I see," he whispered, slipping another finger in.

You lifted your head Back up, crashing your lips into his. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, and you eagerly gave him access. It was a heated mess of teeth clashing as neither of you seemed to be able to get enough of the other. Tom curled his fingers inside you, making you gasp as he found the right spot. You threw your head back, hitting the tile wall a little harder than you intended.

"Right there?" He asked.

"Mhmm," you panted as you felt the band in your belly getting ready to snap.

"Want you to let go, pretty girl, can you do that for me?" He asked.

His words pushed you over the edge, hips moving on their own accord as a pornographic moan left your mouth.

"That's it my pretty girl," Tom cooed as he worked you through the high, eyes never leaving you.

As soon as your legs quit shaking and the quiet whimpers stopped leaving your lips, Tom pulled his hand from where it had been between your legs, bringing the two fingers he had buried inside you up to his mouth and sucking them clean.

"Christ Tom," you groaned.

"Was that good princess?" He asked.

"So good," you nodded, pushing your lips back against his.

KNOCK* KNOCK*

"Y/n! You're going to use all the hot water!" Sam called through the door.

"Probably should get out," Tom chuckled.

"Yeah," you agreed.

You turned the water off, quickly hopping out and wrapping a towel around your wet body, Tom doing the same thing.

You picked up your clothes before opening the bathroom door to Sam standing there, waiting. Your cheeks went rosy as you walked out of the bathroom first.

"Sorry," you mumbled, making your way down the hall to your room. Tom stepped out with his clothes, turning down the opposite side of the hall to his room.

"In the shower?!" Sam groaned.

"Sorry mate," Tom chuckled.

You got to your bedroom, dropping your soiled clothes into the hamper before rummaging around for some comfy warm clothes. You settled on an old hoodie that you had stashed in the wardrobe (you were pretty sure it was once toms) and a nice pair of fuzzy pajama pants.

You collapsed onto your bed, hair still wet and mind going a million miles an hour. Your door creaked open, and you didn't even have to look up to know who it was.

"You alright?" Tom asked.

"More than alright," you answered, not even looking over to him.

"So you graduated?" He asked.

You propped yourself up on your elbows. "I did," you nodded.

He nodded, a smile spreading over his face. "What are you doing now?" He wondered.

"Haven't really decided yet," you admitted. It was the truth, you had barely moved your stuff out of your dorm and back to your parents house, you weren't sure exactly what you were planning to do.

"Can I throw you an idea?" Tom asked.

"Please," you giggled.

He walked over, plopping down on your bed, pulling you into his lap so you were straddling him.

"Come with me," he whispered.

"Where?" You giggled, wrapping your fingers in his hair.

"Anywhere, everywhere, just stay with me?" He begged.

You leaned forward resting your forehead to his and sighing."Tommy, I never wanted to leave you in the first place," you admitted.

"I love you," he told you, looking into your eyes, with his honey golden brown ones.

"I love you," you whispered. Tom leaned more into you, lips searching for yours. His hands grasped your ass as he pressed your lips together eagerly. It was like he said, you had to make up for the lost three years.

You let yourself get lost in Tom's lips, feeling like a lovesick teenager all over again. You rocked your hips against his as you kissed, feeling him growing beneath you.

You continued your movements, pressing your core harder against his growing bulge, making him groan into the kiss. You knew what you were doing, bringing Tom to the point of no return.

“Y/n” Tom groaned into your lips.

“What is it, pretty boy?” you asked as you let your lips travel down to his neck, nibbling and sucking on all the exposed skin.

“I want you,” he whispered, hands running up and down your covered back.

“You have me,” you chuckled against his skin, “You have always had every bit of me,” Tom clutched your ass as he flipped you on your back, returning his lips to yours in a demanding, intention filled kiss. His hands traveled to the hem of the hoodie, before he pulled it up lightly. You sat up pulling it over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Tom doing the same with the shirt he had on, before finding his way back to your body.

“God i have fucking missed you,” Tom groaned as he trailed his lips from yours to the valley of your breasts, pausing at each one to pay your nipples attention. You groaned as his lips enveloped the hardening bud, while he took the other in his fingers. He knew what you liked and how you liked it, and he knew how to get you right to the point he wanted… you begging for him. He moved his lips farther down your abdomen, sucking gently before making it to the bend of your pajama pants. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, shooting you a look, waiting for confirmation. You quickly nodded. He pulled the pants down your legs painfully slowly as he drank in the sight of your body.

“So perfect,” he complimented as he took the pants from around your ankles, dropping them to the floor. He had your leg in his grasp and took the opportunity to place a kiss on your ankle, trailing them gently and slowly up your legs, making the ace you felt in your core intensify dramatically. “Oh Tommy,” you groaned as he placed a kiss on your bundle of nerves.

“What is it, love?” He asked innocently from between your legs.

“Tommy please,” you let out, fingers intertwined in his messy curls. “Please fuck me,” you begged.

You saw the smirk flash across his face as he pushed himself up from in between your legs crashing his lips into yours. You reached down as you eagerly attempted to rid him of his sweats, failing miserably in the heat of the moment. “I've got it,” he chuckled as he peeled the fabric from his body, freeing his aching cock, from the hold of the fabric. Just the sight of him there, naked, between your legs, hand wrapped around his hard member was mouthwatering.

“Ready,'' he asked as he ran his tip through your soaking folds. You nodded eagerly as he slowly sank into you, stretching you beautifully.

Three years, but it was still like muscle memory. Your hands grasped at Tom's neck as your legs snaked around his waist. “Want me to be gentle?” He asked as he bottomed out.

“We have the rest of our lives to be gentle,” you told him. “But right now,” you lifted your lips to his ear as you nibbled on his lobe gently. “I want you to wreck me,” You whispered, making a guttural groan leave his lips before he began thrusting into you.

Your head fell back onto the bed as tom pounded into you, back arching from the mattress as each stroke of his cock brushed eagerly on your g spot. You could feel yourself already clenching around him. Barely any time and you were already about to give in.

Tom's movements slowed suddenly as he brought his lips to yours and kissed you. “I'm sorry, y/n, you'll never know how sorry I am,” he whispered.

You couldn't stop the tears from rushing to your eyes at the sentiment behind his words, knowing how sincere he actually was.

“I forgive you Tommy,” you whispered, kissing him deeper. His movements quickened once again, as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “Tommy,” you whimpered as you felt your walls begin to clench around him.

“Me too baby,” he groaned as you felt him twitch inside of you. You brought your lips back to him as you both fell over the edge, a beautiful symphony of pure ecstasy taking over both of your bodies.

Tom fell beside you, arm draped over you as you both laid there, chests heaving and legs shaking. “Can't believe I lasted three years without you,” Tom mumbled.

“I don't know how you did it,” you teased.

“Y/N,” He said seriously. You looked at him with furrowed brows. “I was serious, come with me, be with me?” you felt the breath hitch in your throat as you watched the nervousness take over him, awaiting your answer.

“Yes,” you whispered as your head nodded. Tom's face lit up as he pulled your body against his, lips clashing again, but in a different way, a way that felt like it would be forever. An unspoken promise being sealed between two people desperately in love after all this time.

taglist:

@violetlilysunshine

@petesrparker

@harryhollandsgirlfriend

@mcushvft

@elishi03

@nelebynele

@sunwardsss

#tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tommy

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strawberrystreamfields · 2 years ago

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Carolina's Journal Log 4:

Our day started bright and early with reports of a sudden, severe blizzard in the Everwind Fields. It was almost identical to the one in Moorland a few days ago. The snow was, of course, deeper here, though Rosedawn expertly plowed through the cold, white, layers. Seeing as the blizzard was situated relatively close to Marley's farm and to the Baroness' Racetrack, it was worth checking to make sure nobody was trapped. Thankfully, Silverglade Village hadn't been hit in the storm, and, from what I could see, neither had Silverglade Manor. I'd have to check on the Manor later.

Despite the trouble this blizzard was causing, there was no denying that it looked magnificent. My prediction was right since we ran into Idun Goldspur and Landon. We helped Idun find her twins, Alexander and Hannibal, who'd been playing hide and seek in the snow when the blizzard hit. From there, we tracked down Landon's sheep. We figured we might as well take advantage of the snow. Rosedawn seemed to want to give herself a brain freeze, dunking her head into the snow a la ostrich.

We headed up to Silverglade Manor, which thankfully hadn't been hit by the blizzard. The constant snowfall's been keeping the snow fluffy and nice. All of the birch trees dotted around the landscape match perfectly with the snowy ground.

The vineyard is just as snow-covered as everything else, which, in hindsight, was to be expected. The grapes are surprisingly resilient for an island that hasn't seen any real snow for nearly 6 years. I briefly spoke with the Baroness as we walked past. Here's hoping she hasn't locked another girl in a castle. I don't think that's going to be an easy PR scandal to deal with.

Rosedawn and I made our way down to Silverglade Village. We headed past the castle, which doesn't currently appear to be inhabited by an imprisoned teenager. The roads in the village have been paved and smoothed, making the trek easier. Big Bonny is working on some of her inventions outside. Fresh air can be pretty helpful when trying to fix something.

We walked through the village, stopping to view the decorations in the main square. There was a massive, expertly decorated tree acting as a centerpiece. The fountain was mostly the same, though there were garlands and straw goats peppered around the square. Figuring it would be nice to have some fun in an even snowier place, we requested that the Capran there take us to the Winter Village, to which they obliged. I'm starting to hate this as much as Rosedawn.

Once in the Winter Village, we passed by some large ice crystals. I wonder how they formed in such an elaborate way. Nevertheless, we encountered a friendly deer, who even allowed me to carefully pet him! Gosh, deer are absolutely precious.

We stopped to listen to stories around a warm fire. James told us a story about a straw goat, which was pretty touching. Before returning to our exploration, we stopped so that Rosedawn could get some water and a snack. After the both of us had rested up, we kept exploring. Our next wildlife encounter was discovering an arctic fox den! Some of the young cubs were playing with each other while some adults supervised.

Leaving the Winter Village, we began heading for Valedale Village. The Silversong River is still frozen over, and Rosedawn and I half considered sliding down toward the ocean or to the other side of the riverbank, though, we decided to just take the path today. Maybe tomorrow.

We passed the frozen water mill, its roof covered in snow. Once arriving at the village, we paused to briefly chat with Claire before continuing on our way. We took a leap over a fallen log, landing in the snow gracefully before galloping on. Maybe Rosedawn would be good in cross-country?

We crossed the bridge over to one of the druid cabins where we'd stay the night. Our plan was either to head up to the Valley of the Hidden Dinosaur or to Firgrove, and by extension, Mistfall tomorrow. For now, Rosedawn is staying in one of the Druid stables for the night while I stay in one of the rooms. I'd head back to Redwood Point, but it would be fruitless to go all the way to the Wildwoods when I might be headed to Mistfall tomorrow.

#long post #star stable online #star stable #ssoblr #star stable spoilers #sso spoilers #just in case #horse: rosedawn #arrow's typewriter

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

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Mine (Hvitserk x reader)

So this is my (first) contribution to @ofmanderley 300 followers celebration challenge! Congrats again! I’m so excited for you and thankful for the brilliant work you do.

I chose a gif set for my prompt that you can find here. Go check it out!

Warnings: none, this is pure cavity-inducing fluff.

Words: 1300

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

(Note- this gif is not mine. It is apart of the gif set that I chose so all the credit goes to @ofmanderley)

The noon-day sun peered down between the thick clouds, creating pockets of light to shine through and warm the cold ground. Snow did not yet lay on the ground but the chill in the air fogged up one's breath in the early morning.

Mind swirling with thoughts of finalized preparations for winter, Hvitserk trekked towards the Great Hall. An intuitive feeling had him glance over towards the marketplace as he passed it…. only for his movement to abruptly cease. After a moment, he changed direction, strolling over to lean against a wooden post, half-hidden by the stall selling exotic spices.

The seller turned around soundlessly to look at him with a confused expression, probably wondering why one of the princes of Kattegat hid behind his stall. Hvitserk raised a finger and placed it over his smiling lips. The foreign man gave a single nod and turned back to the marketplace, calling out to those walking by in his thick accent.

Hvitserk's gaze returned back to what caught his eyes initially.

You.

Further down the marketplace, an elderly woman spoke animatedly to you from her stand. You gently touched the fabric she sold, making some comment that had both you and the elderly woman smiling. Passing her a coin, you chose one of the muted fabrics and slipped it into the basket hanging off your arm. With a final smile at the seller, you glided away, moving along the bustling marketplace.

No matter how many times Hvitserk's eyes feasted on you, it was never enough. Whenever you were around, he struggled to focus on anything other than you. His brothers teased him mercilessly about it but he did not care. You were worth it.

Especially now.

As you turned sideways to wave at someone calling your name, your belly bump became visible. Only within the past week had it suddenly appeared. It was as if your future child was trying to peek out at the world around them from behind your thick fur cloak already. Your bump constantly pushed aside the cloak no matter how many times you tried to cover it, revealing the life growing within your body.

Pushing off the post, Hvitserk stalked closer to you. He nodded to the few people who called out greetings but refused to let his pursuit be thwarted. Right now, you were his prey and he had every intention to catch you without hindrance.

Your leisurely amble slowed as you stopped at a different stand, admiring the furs laid out.

Sneaking up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. "Hello, wife." He murmured into your ear.

You stiffened initially, but once he greeted you, your body melted into his embrace. "Hello, husband."

"And how are my two favorite people?"

"Good." You tipped your head to place a quick peck to his lips. "We missed you this morning. When did you leave?"

He hummed then stole another quick kiss before answering. "Early. You looked so peaceful; I didn't want to disturb you."

"Mmmm…. your child kept me up most of the night kicking."

Chuckling, he reached a hand down to touch your protruding belly. "Soon, my little Valkyrie, soon we will get to meet you. Now though, you need to give your mother peace."

With a nod at the seller, he turned you away from the stand. Holding hands, the two of you strolled through the marketplace.

"You still think it's a girl?" You asked, shifting the small basket in your other hand.

"I do."

"Why?"

"For how much she moves. She clearly has her mother's restless, fighting spirit." He answered as if it was obvious.

You laughed, drawing more than one set of eyes towards you at the beauty of the sound. Not that Hvitserk could blame them, you were always beautiful but when you laughed, Freyja herself must be jealous of your radiance.

"What does that say about me now? I feel like all I want to do is lay around in bed." You asked with such an adorable pout, he was half tempted to bite that lower lip right here without a care of onlookers.

"It means, my love, that you are putting energy into a different kind of fight. Besides with how much work it took to charm you into becoming my wife…." he lowered his head, whispering into your ear in a husky tone, "....I would prefer if you never left our bed."

You giggled, letting him steal another kiss as you continued to walk beside your beloved husband. "Well you might get your wish with how this child wears me out already. Are you not headed to meet with your brothers at this time?"

"I was, but I think I prefer to walk back home with you."

"That's sweet of you."

"Yes, you rest when we get back. Lay down and I'll give you a massage."

"Allowing you to massage me was what got me pregnant in the first place."

He smirked shamelessly. "It can't hurt to practice for our next child."

"If…." You pointed a finger at his smug face. "....if we have more children."

Snaking an arm around your waist, he dragged you into a desolate side alley. Though you pretended to protest, you willingly followed him. Standing there alone, he pulled you in, arms around your waist. Your arms automatically raised to lay around his neck, an action almost instinctive by now. Though this time, your belly bump certainly kept more space between you than either of you wanted.

That silly smirk still on his face, he looked down at you almost arrogantly. "Oh, I'm certain it's fated for us to have more."

"And why is that?" You stared up at him amused.

"You can't keep your hands off me."

Cocking your head to the side, he watched you attempt to suppress a smile. "That's not quite how I remember it."

He leaned in closer, mouth hovering just over yours, though his brown eyes remained focused on you. "Do I need to remind you? The claw marks down my back from last night are proof enough of that."

Gods, the way you bit your lower lip so innocently was enough to drive him wild, then when you peered up at him through your lashes, he was a goner every time.

"It's the fighting spirit you like so much." You teased back, tugging lightly on the ends of his braids.

"I do. Though if you didn't fight against my attention so much when I was chasing you, I would have appreciated it."

"You liked the challenge."

"Mmmm." He hummed in agreement. You had made him work for your affections, your time, your respect. Something no other woman had made him do. It was during that relentless pursuit that he realized you were the woman he wanted for his wife, not just another lover; but someone to always fall asleep beside, to love and cherish wholeheartedly, to trust with every part of his soul.

He pressed a soft, tender kiss to your lips. "And now you're mine. Before the gods, you are mine. Forever, my love."

The smile that you gave him was so full of fondness and joy, it was blinding in its simple beauty. This time you lifted up on your toes to kiss him, a tender parting of lips and slow tangle of tongues.

When your mouths finally separated, he dropped to his knees right there in the dirt. He placed his hands on your belly, eyes intent on where his child grew. "And you, my little Valkyrie. I hope you are as strong and beautiful as your mother. For there is nothing in this world as precious to me as she is."

He looked up and met your eyes, seeing tears swimming in them. Rising back to his feet, he cupped your cheeks, gazing into your face with absolute devotion and loyalty. Though he had known many women, there were none like you and he knew with all the same certainty as the daily rising and setting of the sun, there would never be another woman like you. His life. His love. And soon, the mother of his little Valkyrie.

#ofmanderley300 #vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x you #hvitserk lothbrok #fluff #mzwrites

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revengeoftheantichrist · 3 years ago

Text

Sacrifce

Warnings: Dub-con, breeding kink, Human sacrifice

AO3

The winter had been harsh and long. The snow was thick over the fields, making sure that no crops would grow. The village was down to its last few animals; even the ones that had perished due to the harsh conditions had to be used up and eaten. The winter rations used up long ago, when the people thought it would be a normal cold season. No one had suspected that the ice would remain for this long. Spring should have started by now, the fields should have been lush and green, lambs and calves should have been dotted around the meadows and pastures. But here you were, cocooned in all the furs the family owned, ignoring pangs of hunger, and wishing to feel the warmth of the sun once more. Clearly this was the anger of the gods, and something had to be done in order to appease them or else your entire village would perish. A decision was made. A sacrifice was needed. It couldn’t be livestock; you were already struggling. The village elders had decided that there were already too many mouths to feed, so a human life it would be. It couldn’t be one of the boys, because obviously strong young men were needed to do what little labour was needed in the village. Elders were needed to pass on knowledge. Mothers were needed to raise the children. And this particular entity did not accept the lives of children. That left the girls of marriageable age. ‘Typical’ you thought to yourself. Something in the back of your mind told you that it would be you. Your family wasn’t particularly important, you had no elders to vouch for you in the council, and as much as they cared about the ‘good of the people’, they were not prepared to let go of their own granddaughters. When the decision was announced, you were not surprised. You hoped it was quick, whatever it was. //// For some morbid reason, you were dressed like a bride. The ceremonial garb was far too thin for the temperature. Maybe you were to freeze to death. Whoever this god was, his temple was located in the mountains near your village. It was, however, a surprisingly short trek. You assumed you would perish along the way seen as you were barefoot, without furs and not well fed. The people of the village could not even extend those courtesies to you. You looked around at the entrance of the temple, it just seemed like a dark and icy cave. It had gone unused for so long. The Jotun god, Loki had fallen out of the people's favour long ago. Mischief and chaos were not welcome by the people. Instead, his brother, Thor remained as the favoured god of the region. Maybe the harsh winter was revenge and punishment for forsaking him. A harsh reminder to the people that he still existed, and that his anger was not to be taken lightly. An elder spoke to you as your hands were tied, you weren’t really listening. A bitter drink was given to you, it burned on the way down, but it was the most warmth you had felt in a while. A thick veil was placed over your head, apparently you weren’t allowed to see what was about to happen, a small mercy. You were led into the temple, the lack of harsh wind making things a little more bearable, but the pure ice on the floor made your bare feet hurt. You were pushed onto your knees, the cold seeping into your bones. The elder walked away. You listened as the voices of the men drifted away from the entrance, leaving your fate in the hands of something unknown. Your only company was the constant dripping, echoing from somewhere in the cave, and the sound of your own thoughts. You hoped it was worth it. A numbing sensation began to take over, probably caused by the drink from earlier. //// You jolted awake at the sound of total silence. The wind could no longer be heard, and the dripping had stopped. You still couldn’t see anything. Yet somehow the room seemed a lot bigger, you felt more exposed, missing the strange comfort of the enclosed space you were supposedly left in. Had you been moved? As your eyes began to grow heavy again, you heard a shuffling from in front of you. The noise causing you to sit up straight. Whatever it was, its presence was suffocating. “Now what do we have here?” The voice was like velvet. Otherworldly even. It seemed to descend, getting closer to you. “A shivering little lamb, all for me.” This must have been Loki. You fought the urge to run out of wherever you were. “Well, it seems like the people haven’t been able to forget me, no matter how hard they try.” He grabbed your tied wrists, the rope falling away like water. His hands felt so big compared to yours. His cold touch made you tingle. “Oh you poor thing. Freezing, aren’t you?” You could only nod. He responded with a light chuckle. “Are you going to eat me?” you blurted out, not thinking about what you were saying. He moved away from you. You could feel him staring at you. You knew he was grinning. “Of course, I am,” he got closer again, “it is up to you how,” he whispered. You gulped. There seemed to be innuendo in his statement. He moved again, this time directly in front of you. You gasped as you saw his fingers hook under your veil. Big and blue was the only way you could describe them, with raised ridges. You wanted to trace them with your fingers. Your thoughts were cut short by the tugging on your veil. Your hands shot up to cover your scrunched up eyes. You felt the veil come off, the cool air hitting your head. “Look at me, Y/N”, his voice boomed around the space. You never told him your name, you were sure of it. His tone left no space to argue. How could you defy a powerful god anyway? You knew what his wrath could bring first-hand. You lowered your shaky hands first, placing them on your thighs, gripping your knees. You slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the new light. Your eyes fell to the bottom of the dais you were kneeling at. Ever so slowly your gaze travelled up, taking in each individual, intricately carved step. Finally, your eyes landed on the being sprawled out over his crystal throne. His head rested on his hand, a bored expression on his face. The only way you could describe him was ‘magnificent’. A beauty like no other. You could see why mortals would fear him, but he was not the grotesque creature you expected him to be. He seemed amused at your expression, raising a brow at you, causing you to blush, you wanted to be back behind the veil to hide your own embarrassment. “I expected a little more screaming, mortals usually can’t handle what they cannot understand,” he finally spoke again. You could do nothing but owlishly blink. “Stand,” he commanded. You scrambled up, your legs resisting after kneeling for so long. “Come here,” he made a ‘come hither’ gesture with his finger. You slowly made your way up the icy steps, becoming painfully aware of your bare feet. You tried to look away when you stood directly in front of him, even sitting the god dwarfed you in size. His icy hand reached forward, gently holding your chin and making you face him. Those red eyes seemed to study your face intensely. You stared right back, taking in all his features. High cheekbones and a sharp nose, all accented by the same ridges he had on his hands. You followed the patterns to the column of his throat, stopping yourself from letting your eyes wander further down; you knew he was covered in the lines. You wondered if they were natural in Jotuns, or if they were burned into the skin, like a rite of passage of sorts. You had heard other tribes in your area had similar traditions. Your thoughts drifted to mapping them out with your own hands. “Such a curious little thing you are,” he said. He must have caught you staring, your eyes darted away from him as he chuckled. You caught a glimpse at his teeth, pearly white and sharp. He pinched your cheeks as you tried to turn away, thoroughly enjoying the heat that rushed into them. “I forget how soft and delicate Midgardians are,” he mumbled. He pulled away from you, looking you up and down as he thought what to do with you. “Your people want salvation, yes? They want the winter to end?” he asked. You quickly nodded; it was the reason you were here. He hummed, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. A grin spread across his face. The room around you began to spin before you fell back onto soft furs. A fire crackled nearby, you sighed at finally feeling warmth after so long. Loki stood above you, staring you down, the light from the fire making his features sharper than before. You felt like a mouse at his feet. You almost screamed as he got down, hovering above you on all fours, engulfing you with his body. Your noses touching. “I will offer your people reprieve from my winter,” he started. “Th- Thank you,” you stuttered. “However,” his grin became more malicious, “If you do not provide me an heir by next spring, the winter will plague your lands until you do,” he whispered in your ear, placing a cold hand across your belly. His tone left no room for question, the future of your people depended on this. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Loki carried you to the furs next to the fire, warming you up even further, you hadn’t noticed you were shivering until you stopped. “I am a cruel god, but I will show mercy to those that deserve it,” he mumbled. His cool hands trailed their way down the column of your throat, you gasped as his lips flowed close behind. Stopping along the way to mark and nip you with his sharp teeth, the marks would scar. This was the closest anyone had ever been to you. His hands made quick work of the cord holding your dress together. He peeled the thin fabric away from you. You tried to cover your bare skin, but your hands wouldn’t move, held down by some sort of magic. His hands found your soft skin again, making you groan as he paid attention to your breasts. “What sweet sounds you make, little maiden.” He made eye contact with you as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands broke free and buried themselves into his hair, your head falling back in unfamiliar pleasure. He smiles with his wet lips, before moving onto the other. You felt like you were burning up inside. He let go of your nipple with a ‘pop’, the cool air brushing over them. “I hope these will be full soon.” His lips travelled down your abdomen to the tops of your thighs. His hands ran up your legs until they met his lips. In one swift movement he held them open, your legs over his shoulders as your wetness was exposed to him. You covered your face in embarrassment. His fingers ghosted over your sensitive flash, causing your hips to jerk at the sensation, wanting more. “Is your cunt dripping for your god?” His mouth was so close to your heat. He used his magic to remove your hands from your face, making you look at him again. His red eyes burned into yours as his tongue liked a stripe through your folds. You sighed at the feeling, tightening your thighs around him and wanting more. He continued to noisily suck, distracting you from his finger that began to enter you. The intrusion was so foreign to you, but you couldn’t help but give in. Wanting more. You felt so greedy, you had never felt this sort of wanting before. You didn’t think your mother would be happy with you if she found out. Loki began sucking at your sensitive bud, bringing you to the edge of whatever this was. “Please...” you breathed out. You looked down at him with teary eyes, you didn’t know what you were begging for. With one final suck, Loki had you seeing stars, finally falling off the edge you were headed towards. Your legs jerked around him, keeping him where he was as he looked up at you with amusement in his eyes. You looked down at him after coming down from your high, his face wet with your release. You let your legs relax, allowing him to move up to you, this time capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He broke away, leaving you breathless. Using his magic, he quickly got rid of what little clothing he was in. You were right about the ridges being everywhere, your hands were loose again, and you reached for his chest, finally getting a feel of the cool skin. He growled as your fingers traced the ridges down to his stomach. His hands stopped yours as you reached his hips. You let your eyes wander down, they widened at the size of his cock. He chuckled at your reaction. “Mortals are quite adaptable are they not? I’m sure your cunt will be able to accommodate me.” He brought your hands to feel his ridged and velvety skin. He sighed at the feeling of your warm hands. He shuffled you around again, spreading you open for what was to come next. He rubbed his cock along your folds, the temperature difference already making you hiss. You didn't think he would fit. With one hand on your hip, he guided the tip to your entrance. Slowly, he pushed in, stopping to let you stretch around him until he bottomed out. The only way you could describe the feeling was ‘full’. You knew no mortal man could ever fill you like this, they wouldn’t even get the opportunity to. His hand pressed down on your stomach, “Can you feel me here?” he groaned. All you could do is nod, no coherent words forming any time soon. Both hands found your hips this time, he began to thrust in a steady rhythm, slowly picking up the pace. You knew you’d never get used to his size, however long you were here. The room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, you moaned anytime he hit that spot inside you. Loki moved you so effortlessly, as if you were simply a toy, made for his pleasure. The coil in your belly began to tighten again, you didn’t know how much longer you would last. “Please, My King… I…” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight the feeling.

“You want to cum again? So soon? Aren’t you being a little greedy mortal?” he taunted. His words made you clench around him a little tighter. You looked up at him with teary eyes, hoping he would show you this one mercy. “Pathetic little thing,” he grumbled, his fingers reaching for your clit, letting you tumble off the edge again. He kept on thrusting through your aftershocks, heightening the sensations. He fully sheathed himself inside you before his head fell back in ecstasy, pumping you full of his seed. You went limp on the furs, trying to catch your breath. The heat of the fire felt too much for you at that moment. Loki pulled himself out with an obscene noise, inspecting the aftermath of his work.

“Your people are lucky to have sent you, little mortal.” He effortlessly carried you back to the bed, letting you sink into the covers. “You were strong enough to last through receiving my seed, and you’ll be strong enough to carry my heir,” his hand rubbed your tummy, seemingly deep in thought, “Not many would have survived.” He climbed in behind you. You groaned as his fingers found your sensitive cunt. He speared you back onto his already hard cock, you whimpered at the stretch. “I’ll let you rest for a little while, but you will keep me warm until we can start again. You have a purpose to fulfil, remember?” “Yes My King,” you whispered back, trying to adjust to the foreign sensation.

#My writing #oneshot #loki laufeyson #loki x reader

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crappy-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Bring You Home

NatashaxReader // Angst

Summary: You went to bring her home.

Trigger Warnings: Death

Word Count: 1125

A/N: Here’s my two cents on Vormir.

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist | Recced Fics Masterlist

It was cold on Vormir. Flakes of snow danced around in the wind as both you and Steve stared up at the mountain before you. Purple hues painted the planet’s sky, basking its barren lands in similar colors. Perhaps you would have considered the place to be beautiful had the circumstances of your presence been different.

You looked to your side at Steve, who, in turn, continued to look up at the mountain you both would have to trek to return the final stone. You waited for him to make the first move. After all, this was his mission, you were only tagging along. A few more seconds had passed before he finally spoke, “Are you ready to go?”

You look back up the mountain before releasing a shaky breath, “Yeah.”

Climbing up the mountain had been tiring, but it was not something you were not prepared for. You were staring out at the landscape, before you heard an accented voice speak behind you, “Welcome.”

You took out a set of daggers and pointed it at the hooded figure that stood before you, but Steve did not react. Instead, recognition flickered through Steve’s eyes as the hooded figure revealed himself. The figure had a skeletal, red face and you noticed he seemed to hover off the ground.

The figure spoke your name first, followed by the name of one of your parents. “Steve. Son of Sarah,” the figure continued.

You watched the interactions between Steve and the hooded figure curiously. No words were spoken between them, the figure seemingly knowing why you and Steve were here. A type of mutual understanding passed between them as Steve handed him the stone. Wordlessly, Steve stepped away from the figure and stood by your side. Although you considered the interaction between the two to be peculiar, you decided it was not worth questioning.

After wearily eyeing the hooded figure, you returned your daggers back to their original place. You turn to look at him and give him a sad smile. “So, you’re really going, huh?” you ask him softly. “Yeah, I am. Figured I’d try some of that life Tony kept talking about,” he says, returning your smile.

“Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for, Steve,” you say as you pull him in for a tight hug, “and don’t you dare forget about us.” Steve chuckles lightly, “I could never forget about any of you.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheek when you finally let go of him. “Okay, get out of here before I lose it,” you say as you sniffle. He chuckles again as he takes a few steps back and gets ready to go. You cross your arms against your chest as he bids you one last goodbye. “And hey,” he gives you one last smile, “take her home.”

“I will. Goodbye, Steve,” you respond with one last smile and, just like that, he’s gone.

You stare at the spot the Captain had just left for a few more seconds, processing the fact that Steve would not be there when you got back to your time. A wave of grief hits you briefly, but you put it aside for now. You still have one more thing to do; you’ll have time to grieve later.

When you turned around, the hooded figure still remained where he stood, as if he were waiting for you. You stare down at the ground for a few seconds, trying your best to prepare for what’s to come, before taking a shaky breath. “Show me the way to her, please,” you say to the figure and he nods.

Wordlessly, he leads you through the mountain until you reach a small, beaten path, “Follow this path down. You will find her at the end.”

You stare down at the rocky path for a few seconds. With one last look at the hooded figure and a quiet “thanks,” you made your way down. Within a few minutes, you had reached the bottom.

Even though she was still far away, your throat tightened and your eyes filled with tears when you caught sight of her. You had cried so much already, knowing that she would no longer be by your side with that beautifully stupid smirk that made you fall in love in the first place, but to actually see her brought a whole new wave of emotions you had not really prepared for.

You will yourself to move forwards toward her, your legs feeling heavier with every step you took. You dropped to your knees once you were close enough, a quiet sob escaping you.

You reached out to her, your hands shaking uncontrollably, and gently shook her shoulder. A small, childish part of you hoped she would wake up and smile at you; you wanted to believe that this was all just a bad dream and that she was actually okay.

But you knew that she would not wake. She was long gone and there was nothing you could possibly do to bring her back.

A small sense of helplessness spreads through your body as you gently lift her body off the ground and cradle her in your arms. “Hey Nat,” your voice cracked as you spoke, “We won.” A humorless laugh escapes you, but it quickly turns into a sob.

“We beat him, Nat. We won. He’s-he’s gone, and everyone else came back. Thanks to you, a-and Tony, and everyone. We won because of you guys,” tears trailed down your face uncontrollably as you held her closer to you.

A broken smile came up on your lips. Despite the immense loss you felt, you knew that they didn’t regret their choices. You knew that they would make the same choice over and over again if it meant protecting what they loved and bringing everyone else back. “You should have seen Clint’s face when Laura called,” you say with a watery laugh, “it… it was… indescribable, really…”

There were so many things you wanted to tell her and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to speak them; you had no words left to say. In the end, you allow yourself to be silent, to let the moment simply be. You don’t know how long you remained like that before you finally spoke.

“Nat, I’m here to bring you home,” you sniffled as you fought to keep your voice steady. The thought of leaving her here alone was devastating to you. That’s the only true reason you joined Steve on his mission. With a shaky hand, you move a strand of her hair to the side, “You deserve to go back home.”

Your hand goes to your side as you sync up to go before whispering softly, “Let’s go home.”

#natashaxreader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoffxreader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fic #marvel #Avengers

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

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I Like Me Better

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from Anon: Hi! If you’re doing requests can I get a short fic based on the song I like me better by Lauv with Nestor🥺

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: language, lots of softness and pining

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: (I know I’ve posted this story like 5 times today alone. So sorry to everyone who has been getting bombarded with it while I figure out my posting/tagging issues. Love y’all and I owe you xo) This story definitely took on a life of its own once I sat down and started writing it. I love me some Soft Nestor and the whole “almost relationship” type of deal. Hope you enjoy!

General Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712

You were laughing as you watched snowflakes get stuck in Nestor’s facial hair and braids as he talked to you on the phone. Ever since you moved, the two of you had one weekly scheduled phone call, and one video chat. No matter what either of you were doing, you always made time for those two things. Even if for the rest of the week you didn’t really get to talk to each other, you always had those two things.

When Nestor said he was going to have to talk to you on the go before he called, you didn’t expect it to be quite so literal. You figured maybe he’d be driving, but wherever he was, he was walking, and it was snowing. He didn’t look thrilled about either of those things.

“I’m not made for the fucking snow,” he was trying to sound annoyed but you could see the laughter building up inside him.

“Good thing you didn’t move with me to New York then,” you laughed as you watched him brush snowflakes off of his eyelashes, “You’d never last out here.”

“Why would you voluntarily put up with this every year?”

“It’s pretty when you’re not being a baby about it,” you laughed, “Where did Miguel send you anyway?”

“Into the cold, that’s where,” he kept a serious expression for a moment before laughing.

“Next time you wanna experience the cold, come do it with me! My door is always open.”

“You’re the only person worth braving this shit for, Y/N,” he chuckled.

“Well,” you smiled at him from the warmth and comfort of your couch, “me and Miguel, apparently.” There was a knock at your door and you sighed, “Hold on a sec, I gotta grab that,” you got up and walked over to the door.

When you unlocked and pulled the door open, the phone dropped from your hands as you took in the sight of Nestor standing on your front step. You squealed, throwing your arms around him in a hug that swept you off the ground. He laughed as he held you tight against him.

He gently set you back down, making sure that your feet didn’t land in the snow on your steps, or on top of your discarded phone, “I told you, you’re the only one worth braving this shit for.”

“I can’t believe you’re really here!” without thinking better of it, you reached and cupped his face in your hands, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that he was actually standing right there in front of you. He let out a slight shiver and it snapped you back to the situation at hand. You laughed as you waved him inside, “Shit, come inside. Get out of the cold.”

You grabbed your phone off the ground before you shut and locked the door behind the both of you, mind reeling from the fact that Nestor was at your house. You’d been back home to visit a couple times since you moved away, but he’d never made the trek to New York. You couldn’t blame him—you knew what his life with Galindo was like. You were surprised that he was able to be that far away from the family without it causing some kind of issue.

“What brings you out my way?” you took his coat from him and hung it up, chuckling as the snow fell off of it onto the floor.

“You,” he replied, looking up at you with a smile as he took his shoes off, “I wanted to see you, and not just through a phone screen.”

His words made your entire body feel warm. You motioned for him to follow you into the kitchen, nodding towards the counter for him to sit while you got the both of you a cup of coffee. He needed it more to warm up than anything else. He looked around your house with an approving smile. You’d given him the video tour after you had moved all of your stuff in, but it looked so much better in person. It felt so homey. Your walls were covered with photographs and artwork that you’d brought from home. Nestor smiled to himself when he saw that he’d made it up on the wall in a few pictures, along with the rest of your family and friends back in California.

You set the hug down in front of him, and he chuckled when he saw I ❤ NY printed on the side of it. He cupped his hands around it, letting the warmth seep into his fingers from the ceramic, “Fitting.”

You sipped from your own mug with a smile, “Gotta manifest it, Nes.”

The two of you existed in silence for a minute while he thawed out. You watched him as he looked around your small home. It wasn’t much, especially compared to the homes of all the people in his circles back in California, but it was yours and you loved it. You had never been someone who needed much. You just needed to feel comfortable and safe, and this house did more than just that for you.

You noticed him staring at the photos on the walls and the fridge, and you smiled. A little bit of weight settled over your heart as you watched him study them, knowing that he was looking at the ones of the two of you. It was all bittersweet to look back on. The two of you hadn’t ever dated, but you danced around the outskirts of it for a long time. There were times when the lines felt a little fuzzy, but nothing ever really happened. You were best friends, and you knew that he’d do anything for you, and you for him. But the timing was just never quite right, life was just never quite calm enough to try and make it work.

When you had told him that you had accepted a job offer on the other side of the country, he was trying so hard to be happy for you, but it wasn’t easy. You were a port in the storm for him, and he had no idea what he was going to do without you around. But he was supportive. He helped you pack, scrolled through apartment and housing listings with you, and found the best deal on a plane ticket. He never let you see how much it had hurt him—those were feelings that he processed in private. He’d thought about coming out to visit you every day since you left, but he worried that if he did, he wouldn’t come back home.

Before either of you could spiral too far into the past, you spoke up with a smile, “So, how long are you in town for?” he didn’t have any bags, so you assumed that he couldn’t be in town for long.

“I’m not sure,” he rested a hand on the back of his neck, “Told Mikey I needed to take some time. And this was the first place I thought to come to.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise—work had always been a priority for Nestor. Miguel was at the forefront of his decisions, always. “Really?” you raised your eyebrows, “You…you can take a leave of absence with…what you do?” you couldn’t quite wrap your head around it.

He shrugged, “Apparently,” he chuckled, “He said alright. So, here I am.”

You could feel that it wasn’t what he wanted to talk about, so you let the topic drop, “Well, you know you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you want to. Although your lack of luggage is a little concerning.”

He laughed, “Got lost in the shuffle. Airline said they’ll mail it here.”

You shook your head, unable to contain your laughter, “Damn, that sucks. Welcome to New York.”

You were on the opposite side of the counter from him, leaning forward onto it, propped up by your elbows. The two of you started to catch up about things that slipped from your minds when you called each other. He told you about some of the chaos that he wasn’t allowed to say over an unsecure phoneline. You listened intently, fighting the urge to reach out and entwine your fingers with his. Everything felt so right with him there with you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled as he took another sip of his coffee, “I don’t mean to do all the talking. I’ve just…I’ve missed having you to talk to.”

You nodded, “I know the feeling,” you drummed your fingers on the surface of the counter, “Well, now that you’re here, normally I’d say we should go do touristy things. But something tells me you’ve had your required dose of snow for the day?”

He laughed, “What’ve you got in mind?”

You shook your head, “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. I’m sure you’ve had a long enough day. We can camp out at least until your luggage gets here. Or I can take you shopping, whichever you prefer.”

He smiled at you, “I think I’m alright with staying in.”

“That’s what I figured,” you chuckled, “Well, I was not expecting company. I’m assuming you’ll be alright with ordering in?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I know this really great Chinese place. Their wonton soup is…perfection.”

The two of you made your way to your living room and sprawled onto the couch. You leaned up against Nestor’s side as you got your phone out to place the order. You picked a few things that you wanted to eat before handing it to him so he could pick stuff as well. While he was looking through the menu, you turned on the television and pulled the blanket off the back of your couch so it covered the both of you.

Nestor handed your phone back to you so you could place the order. He’d hardly noticed how you tucked the both of you in. He smiled as he rested his arm against your side, hand brushing lightly against your stomach.

“Is this…”

“I decided last week that I was going to rewatch all of Law & Order SVU from the very beginning,” you laughed.

He shook his head with a laugh, “Do you have a moral objection to happy shows or…?”

“It’s a good show!” you snuggled into him a little more.

“What has New York done to you?”

You smiled and shook your head, “Given me time to do shit like this.”

“You like it here though?” his eyes were watching the television, but one hand was gently massaging circles into the side of your neck.

“Yea, I do. It’s a nice change of pace—I think it was the right move for me,” you glanced up at him and smiled, unbelievably happy about the fact that he was really laying on your couch in New York with you. Never in a million years did you think that would happen.

Once the food got there the two of you switched up your positions a little bit. The TV was still on but neither of you were paying attention to it. You were each sitting cross-legged facing each other on the couch. You were laughing as you watched him fumble with his chopsticks. You had forks, obviously, but it was a matter of pride whenever you two ate together because he knew that you were extremely good at using them and he didn’t want to be left out.

“Almost two years since we got Chinese together and you didn’t use any of that time to teach yourself how to use chopsticks?”

He chuckled as he struggled with his noodles, “Didn’t make it to the top of my priority list, I apologize.”

“I’ll teach you before you leave. Way better than taking back a cheesy souvenir,” you smiled at him as you picked up a piece of chicken.

As the night wore on, your coffee table became covered in takeout food boxes, and a couple empty bottles of wine that the two of you had managed to drink your way through. You were sprawled across his lap, wine glass lightly hanging from your fingertips as you rambled on about what you had been up to since you moved. Nestor couldn’t take his eyes off of you, soaking up the fact that he was able to be so close to you.

“I’ve missed you,” you veered off your current story completely as you felt the warmth from his hand soak into your leg.

He looked at you, laughing quietly at the sudden admission, “I’ve missed you too.”

“Were you ever mad at me for leaving?”

He shook his head, no hesitation in his answer at all, “Of course not,” he studied your face, the way your skin glowed whenever you drank, the way your eyes got a little glassy when you had more than just one glass of wine, “Doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, though.”

You hummed in quiet contentment as he reassuringly rubbed his hand up and down your leg, “I think about you all the time.”

His hand stilled for a moment and you were afraid that maybe you were saying too much. Maybe the reason that things worked so well was because everything was in limbo. Before you could worry too much he gave your leg a light squeeze, “I think about you too.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, resituating yourself so that your head was resting against his chest. It was hard to focus on much of anything when all you could think about was the way your body was pressed up against his. The steadiness of his breathing felt like the only thing that was still grounding you. Your entire body felt warm from the wine, but deep down you knew it was more than just that.

“If you’re tired,” he spoke up after a few minutes of silence, “you can go to bed. Don’t exhaust yourself on my account,” there was a smile on his face.

You stretched, fighting back a yawn, “Come with me,” you sat upright and looked over at him, “I won’t lie to you, my guest room is empty because I have been putting off buying furniture for it,” you chuckled, “And my bed is way more comfortable than the couch, believe me.”

“Yea,” he nodded, his voice soft as he bit back a laugh, “okay.”

He followed you up the stairs and into your room, looking around the house as he did. It was hard for him to wrap his head around what your life was like now that you were so far away from everything that you had grown up with, everyone you had grown up with. It seemed like you had created such a cozy little life for yourself, and it couldn’t help but to think that you might never have had that if you hadn’t taken the plunge to move across the country.

“Don’t mind the clothes,” you apologized as you flicked on the light to your bedroom, “I promise they’re clean—I just hate folding laundry.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “It’s fine.”

You changed into a baggy long-sleeve shirt and a pair of shorts, immediately crawling underneath your blankets. You nestled back against your pillow and looked over at Nestor, who was unbuttoning his shirt, eyes cast down at the floor.

You were lying on your side, scrolling on your phone when you felt the mattress dip as Nestor climbed into bed beside you. He pulled the blanket up over himself and rolled onto his side so he could look over at you. You looked up from your phone, a smile starting to take over your features as you took in how close he was to you. You set your phone off to the side and rested your cheek against the palm of your hand.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” you said with a laugh.

“Give it a couple days,” he joked, “Soon you’ll be begging for me to go back home.”

You snuggled closer to him, resting your face against his chest, “I doubt it.”

You woke up the next morning to the feeling of Nestor’s arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you snug against his chest. Taking a slow, deep bre ath you took in the fact that this was really happening. He shifted slightly, arms squeezing you for a moment before he settled back into his sleep. The selfish part of you never wanted him to go home because you would love to wake up like this every morning. The warmth trapped underneath the blanket made you forget about the fact that there was a considerable amount of snow covering the ground outside.

You let your eyes close again as you focused on the steady beat of his heart. You slowly slid your legs and tangled them up with his. A few moments later you felt his fingers sliding lightly up and down your back. You glanced up at him and smiled when you saw that his eyes were still closed, but there was a peaceful smile on his face. You don’t ever remember seeing him so calm, so relaxed.

“Good morning,” he mumbled as he pressed his hand flat against your back, pushing you against him.

You chuckled as you rested your hands against his chest, “Good morning. You sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” he finally opened his eyes, “like a fucking rock,” he laughed.

You smiled up at him, “Good.”

The two of you laid there, soaking up the quiet peacefulness of the morning. You hadn’t woken up wrapped up in someone’s arms in a very long time, and there was something about the clinginess of Nestor’s grasp that told you he was in the same boat. You smiled to yourself as you felt his fingers lazily massaging between your shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come visit sooner,” he said.

You pulled back away from him so you could get a better look at his face, “You don’t have to be sorry—I know your life doesn’t make it easy. It’s hard to find the time.”

“I should’ve made the time.”

“Nes, don’t—”

He cut you off as he shook his head, “I’m not trying to make excuses. I know that I should’ve come out to see you. I just, I knew that it was going to be hard to convince myself to go back home once I did. I like me so much better when I’m with you,” he gently cupped your face in his hand.

You rested your hand over his, “Well, I like you all the time,” you smiled, “And no matter what, I’ll always be here whenever you need a break to recharge and get away from everything for a little while. But listen,” you waited for him to look at you, “don’t spend all of your time here thinking about the fact that you think you should’ve made it out here sooner. None of that matters. You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

He rested his forehead against yours, “See? That’s what I mean—how am I supposed to go back home after that?” you could see the hint of a smile on his face.

You laughed, “Just remember how much you hate the snow. Short vacations out this way will be just right for you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Yea, maybe.”

You gave his hand a light squeeze, “C’mon, let’s go make breakfast and see if your luggage will come in today or if I get to take you shopping.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, “Can’t wait for that.”

You flung the blanket off the both of you and hopped out of bed. Walking around to Nestor’s side, you held out your hands and pulled him up, laughing as he exaggeratedly stumbled into you and wrapped you in a hug. Your laughter was muffled against his chest but he reveled in the way it all felt.

While you were measuring out grounds into the coffee maker, you saw Nestor out of the corner of your eye looking through your fridge, trying to see what he could salvage to make breakfast with. You smiled to yourself as you set the pot to brew. You leaned back against the counter and watched him pulling things out from the drawers of your refrigerator.

“Playing chef today?” you asked with a smile.

“Better me than you,” he laughed.

You feigned offence, “Excuse you, I am an amazing cook.”

He smiled as he set everything out on the counter, “You are, but I’m better.”

“But I’m better,” you mocked with a laugh, “Cocky.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“How long did you say you were staying again?” you laughed.

“At least until I learn how to use chopsticks,” he chuckled as he looked through your cabinets for a frying pan, “So it might be a while.”

You couldn’t make yourself take your eyes off him, “Good.”

He heard the softness in your tone and looked over at you from his food prep on the counter. He smiled, tilting his head slightly as if to ask if there was something that you wanted to say. You shook your head with a small smile before walking over and wrapping your arms around his middle, the side of your face resting against his back. You didn’t know how long he was going to be staying, but you knew that regardless you were going to be making the most of it.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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goddessofmischief · 4 years ago

Text

Blue Monday, Chapter Four - Loki x T.V.A.! Reader

Chapter Four... ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’

You almost wanted to step outside and freeze again. Better that, than to be faced with this - on your first-ever mission with a partner, no less. In a matter of hours, you had almost frozen to death. You had pretended to be a goddess - one that uncomfortably resembled you. And, worst of all, there was only one bed. Yeah. Really.

“We-ell,” you said, awkwardly, untangling your hand from Loki’s. Now that you were finally left alone, you didn’t have to keep pretending. But you did have to sleep somewhere.

“Let’s not pretend that this isn’t... difficult,” said Loki, “...Because it is. But don’t worry. I don’t share.”

You laughed. “Really? Kicking me out onto the floor, Odinson?”

“It would seem so. Alternatively, you can make peace with the fact that nothing is happening here, and allow it to be nothing.” “Oh, you think I’m the problem?”

“I truly do.”

“I’m the problem? Not the guy who pretended I was his wife though, right? There’s no way that maybe you’re the one who’s got some issue?” Loki crossed his arms, chuckling, and sat down on the bed. “If you’re implying that I feel anything for... a mortal like yourself, you’re wrong.” “Prove it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Prove it. Keep me warm.”

You cuddled up to him, and Loki sighed, covering you both up with a warm, woolen knit blanket. “You’re not really as warm as you thought I’d be,” you whispered, your breath hot against his freezing collarbone. “Loki, maybe you should take all the blanket-”

“I’m fine.”

He spoke like he didn’t want to go any further into the matter, so you didn’t push it. Simply closed your eyes, tried to breathe. “G’night.” Loki doesn’t respond. But you both fall asleep smiling. ... “Get up.”

You hadn’t woken up next to another person for forty years. And Loki was not making the experience any easier. Apparently, the God of Mischief is an early riser. “We lose light in four hours.”

“Don’t we want to lose light?” you muttered, yawning, rubbing at your eyes. “Well... yes. But we have to be at the fortress where they’re keeping the tesseract much before then. Remember, you don’t hold up in the cold, darling. We’ll need to make the trek before night falls.” “Which means...”

“Which means we leave now.”

Neither of you had changed out of your clothes, so you didn’t have to get ready. Loki looked as if he hardly needed sleep at all. You, however, felt like a mess. You were a mess. Your hair was untidy and unstyled, your skin still sore and red from the cold the night before. These things had never mattered to you before - really, they hadn’t. When you were at home, on Earth... even then. In the 1970s, most people weren’t wearing makeup, anyway. Most of them barely wore clothes.

You tugged your pant leg down, uncomfortably, attempting to ignore your appearance in the mirror. “You’re not honestly self conscious, are you?”

Jerk.

“No,” you said, smoothing down your jacket. “No, why would I feel self-conscious in front of a... well, whatever the hell you are.” “If you do, love, you shouldn’t.” Loki leaned back, seemingly pleased with himself. “You look...”

“Professional,” you interrupted, reaching over and brushing one of your stray hairs from his coat. “Professional, always.” ... The trek was actually kind of... nice.

Long, and exhausting. And filled with melting, slippery roads, still wet from the snow before. But nice. And shockingly silent, for a man who infamously loved to talk. But you couldn’t be mad at him for it. You liked Loki quiet. “Careful,” Loki said, reaching over to you, offering his hand to help you over a puddle. “I’m fine - oh!”

To the surprise of neither of you, you had slipped - and Loki had swept you off your feet, literally. “Are you going to carry me all the way, or-”

He unceremoniously dropped you. “Ow!” “I wouldn’t want to humiliate you, sweet.” “How considerate, darling.”

For the first time, you’d hurled one of his venomous compliments back at him - and it felt pretty damn good. He became completely stiff, still managing to walk, but no emotion or expression crossed his face. “You okay there, ‘Oki?”

He nodded, a little more quickly that most people would.

“Yes,” Loki said. “It’s just, that was spoken like-”

“Spoken like what?”

“Spoken like her,” he said. “And yet...”

...

Loki was continuing to make your existence a joyless one.

For one... you’d just arrived at the fortress.

A fortress Loki seemed to have no interest in helping you get into.

"Damn it!” you shouted, rushing up against the gates. “They’re... they’re locked.”

Loki was sensing your frustration. He knew it, and you knew it. And you could practically see the little gears turning in his mind. He was trying to wind you up, and you just wouldn’t let him.

“Just use your powers.”

“I don’t have any powers!”

You were on the edge. Loki was determined to make you fall off.

Well... not today.

“Alright,” you said, finally.

“Alright... Loki. You stay here. I’m going to go around the side.”

“What? Why?” He sounded panicked, and for all the wrong reasons.

You shrugged.

“They might have left it open. Or... maybe, there’s a key under the mat.”

“You must be joking.”

“You must know that I’m not.”

“Never mind that. I’ll use my powers, and... they’ll surely hand the Tesseract over when they see who is demanding it. You saw that town back there. Even if they’re not quite as zealous as the others, these people must adore me.”

“Or.... maybe not.”

“Come again?”

You gestured at a wooden sign, trying to contain your laughter.

Törvedalen.

Which, if the simple Norse you learned had not failed you, translated to the Valley of Thor.

“Maybe that’s why they took the tesseract from the other town,” you managed, gulping as you watched Loki’s briefly irritated, then furiously incensed expression. “Maybe... there’s a little bit of a war going on here, over who they like best. You gotta admit, Loki, that statue in town was pretty oversized.”

“It was exactly adequate - whose side are you on, anyway? Are you not my partner?”

You shrugged.

“I’m just trying to help.”

Loki saw your worried expression and softened, slightly, his hands unclenching.

“Alright,” he said. “So we’ll go in - together. I’ll talk to them. I’ll make them understand - and they’ll get exactly what they bargain for, one way or another.”

“Do I have to be Amora again?”

You sounded pathetic, admittedly - you felt pathetic.

Luckily for you, Loki shook his head. “No, love. Just be Y/N L/N. That should do it.”

...

“Hello!” called Loki, having strolled through the front gate - it turned out his magic was completely effective at undoing non-magical locks, and he could’ve opened the gate the whole time. He was just toying with you.

As usual.

“Hello!”

“Y’know,” you said, trying to keep your voice low, “Y’know, we don’t really have to shout, if we stay quiet we might be able to get the tesseract and sneak-”

“Don’t pester me. I could use a little Amora right now.”

Well, that stung.

“Well, she isn’t in,” you muttered, holding a dimly lit torch up to another sign. “She’s not here. She’s not even real.”

“Really, this again, darling? You’ve forgotten so easily the art we saw in the village. That didn't look real to you? Would you prefer, perhaps, a larger painting?”

“That doesn’t mean anything, and you know it. How do I know you’re not just screwing with me? You trick people. It’s sort of... what you do.”

You knew you were being mean - well, mean for you. He was your partner, shouldn’t you be kind and tolerate his little... eccentricities?

Then again, Loki was sort of wrecking you, mentally. The last time someone did that... you’d just let it happen.

Well. Not this time.

“Guilty,” Loki admitted, his voice lowering. It wasn’t threatening, instead, it was actually sort of... nice?

Kind of nice. Almost sweet.

“But this isn’t a trick, I’ll promise you that. It means just as much to me that I learn to understand this - because for once, I know as much as you do, love. So it's up to us. To figure it out, together-”

Just then, a group of Nordic warriors stormed in.

Holding axes.

“They’re holding axes,” you whispered, tugging on Loki’s sleeve. “Loki, they’re-”

“I noticed - gentlemen, what can we do for you?” He repeated the last sentence again, this time in Old Norse.

The group shouted something back at him.

“What’d they say?”

“Something about 'a light cube.’ Our light cube, I presume, unless there happen to be others.”

“Ask them if they can give it to us.”

“Sweet, you have to know they won’t.”

But he translated your request, all the same.

“He said that they can’t,” said Loki. “Because... of their leader?”

“Do you know who leads them? Is it Thor?”

“No... this is... an alternate Earth. It wouldn’t be my Thor... it could be someone else...”

“Tell them to take us to the leader.”

“My, aren't you bold? What makes you think this leader won't just kill us?”

“I don’t know! But it’s worth a try, yeah?”

Loki rolled his eyes, attempting to translate again, and one of the Vikings responded.

“They’ve agreed. To take us to... who is it, again?”

The Viking shouted something out, and Loki’s face paled.

"What did he say?”

“He said,” said Loki, clearing his throat, “That... he’d bring us to the leader. Their leader, the new ruler of Törvedalen ... Lady Loki.”

Taglist: gorgeourrific-nerd @suwupremeleader @sserpente @tripleyeeet

#loki #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#blue monday #blue monday a loki story #jules writes #blue monday masterlist #loki blue monday #blue monday by jules #loki x amora #lady loki #tva #time variance authority #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #loki x reader angst

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sukiglycerin · 4 years ago

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it’s too cold outside for angels to fly || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x angel quirk!reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, angst, actually sfw (wow, luna's can do that?!)

* words: 8.1k (it’s a big baby!)

* warnings: mentions of trauma, reader is insecure but it's not their entire personality, therapy (not a lot of scenes with it), slight intoxication, mentions of throwing up (not much), like one suggestive joke, (light) cussing because bakugou

* original request: All I’m saying is reader with a angel quirk and the reader even has wings AND ANGST (but happy at the end 🥺) WITH BAKUGOU sounds so good 😔 but of course if you don’t want to do that it’s fine no pressure 💕

* a/n: hi 'nonnie! i hope you like you like this! honestly, it turned out longer than i expected (twice the length lol) but i'm proud of this baby. i'd like to note that enko, the nickname bakugou calls reader means 'halo' in japanese and can double down as a name, and an important reminder not to take any advice from the therapy in this fic. i am not a professional therapist, and please seek advice for situations specific to yours. the name of the fic is inspired by a lyric from ed sheeran's 'a-team,' but i promise it's not that dark. thanks so much to @toishi and the amazing feedback from @dylanxmin for beta-reading this! hope you enjoy!

* synopsis: you were your parents' perfect angel. you listened, and you followed. you didn't become a pro-hero, you stayed inside per your parents' request. it was okay if you couldn't fly; or, at least it was, before katsuki bakugou came along...

your grandmother loved pastries. that’s why you were here, trekking through the cold city in the tokyo winter. you shivered everytime your feathers came in contact with the frigid air, as if they, too, cowered under the looming shadows of tall buildings and bright lights.

so many people roamed the sidewalks, yet any bodily warmth was gone. you regretted not buying a cover for your wings - surely, it'd be an investment despite the price. wing covers were rarely manufactured for your size in japan, mainly aimed for small children just developing a quirk. the extra cloth needed for adult wing covers as well as shipping costs jacked up the price, making you hesitant to buy them. your wings were folded against the outside of your coat (putting them inside gave you cramps), nuzzling against your back subconsciously for heat. your wings were a pale cream colour, slightly more vibrantly mustard-coloured at the tips, and were the most visible part of your quirk.

according to the doctor, your quirk was "angel," but it felt nothing more than a pet name. there was a time in your life that you adorned a halo, but it no longer hovered above you when you looked up now. you weren't granted much power with your quirk; you were barely able to fly with your wings, but maybe you had a stronger moral compass than others? the wings, at this point in your life, were just accessories, as useless as the appendix. they could only cause you pain. you walked mindlessly toward the bakery, snow flurries dotting your hair. the bakery was a rundown, easy to miss place; you would've missed it if you hadn't gone there so many times. the faded yellow paint on the exterior was peeling, the poster on the window ripped and advertising for summer deals from years back. it had only a word-of-mouth reputation to rely on.

there was a worn sticker on the door, right at eye level, which said the name of the bakery in loopy letters: 'the flour road.'

you swung the door open with a jingle, greeted by the scent of baking bread and warmth. the bakery was your grandmother's favorite, specializing in rice cakes and dorayaki. she loved the pastries, for some reason - the baklava especially. she sent you on an errand to buy her some, giving you extra money to buy your personal favorite of dorayaki. to be exact, she pushed the money into your hands and forced you to buy a dorayaki for yourself. it was still warm when the cashier handed you your boxes, which you gingerly put in the bag.

you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the cold, before you opened the door and found yourself back in the cold winter.

a hand roughly pulled you into an alley, and you found yourself face to face with a masked figure.

"give me your money." the figure pointed to your purse, tugging it.

"i don't- i don't-" you reach to take off your purse, not questioning it. there was simply nothing you could do; besides, the voice was young enough. what if they were simply going through a rough time in life? that was no cause to-

"OI, DUMBASS, WHADDAYA THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" a spiky haired man appeared suddenly, wearing what appeared to be melons on his arms. you suddenly recognized his getup of black, orange, and green; he was a pro-hero. what was his name? zero gravity? zero gr...ass?

"LADY, MOVE ASIDE." he looked you over. "FLY, OR SOMETHING."

"i can't-" but he was already after the thief. it took him less than 30 seconds to capture the thief; he was fast by himself, but was faster when propelled by his explosions.

"well, why are you here still?" he turned to you, the figure from before slung over his shoulder.

"i can't fly," you blurted.

he blinked. "then walk. besides, you literally have-" the figure moaned over his shoulder. "agh, nevermind, gotta take this douche to the police. go home."

the next you see of the explosive melon hero is at a supermarket. his arms are melonless this time, though, and you're not actually sure if he's the melon hero. you only recognize him by his hair and red eyes, but truthfully, it was probably not him. he was muttering something about "the spice not being spicy enough," and "stupid hair-for-brains nagging about the heat."

you felt a finger poke your wings. "hey miss, you have ugly wings." a stubby boy, no more than 5 or 6, looked up at you. smirking, he pushed his own smaller wings out, hands on his hips. "mine are teal-turquoise! yours are boring white."

"uh, okay-"

"mind your damn business, brat. where are your parents?" you could now confirm that the spiky haired man was indeed the melonhero by his voice and vulgarity. melonhero had turned to the kid, standing by your side.

the kid hmphed and walked away, to where his mother scolded him for straying from her.

"you again?" melonhero turned to you. "you really need to learn how to stand up for yourself."

"eh? i was handling it fine!"

"yeah, sure. what’s up with your wings, anyway?" he grunted. "can’t fly?"

"n-no. they're, uh, too weak." it was something hard to admit out loud for you. all winged people could fly, but you couldn't even hover, your wings just flapping up wind.

"too weak?! eh? is that even possible??" he poked one of your feathers. "they seem sturdy enough to me."

you turn your wings away from him, frowning. "it's not that easy. i-i never really had time to learn..."

"isn't that what all kids do in their free time, though? experiment with their quirk?"

"my parents thought it was useless..." you shuffled your feet awkwardly, eyes downcast.

"WORTHLESS?!" you flinched at his sudden volume. "it's your quirk, though, 'wings'?"

you rubbed the back of your neck. "well, not really... it's...." angel. the word echoed in your mind, under the spotlight on a stage. it stared at you in an empty auditorium. 'angel.' the word had negative connotations for you. to others, it was a sweet, innocent nickname, but to you, it meant more.

it represented the weight of your parents' expectations, the burden of your classes' assumptions. it became a ball and chain, reminding you of who you were, who you were supposed to be, and who you could never become. you were your parents' angel, your parents' little light. nothing else.

"'angel,' eh?"

"huh?" did melonhero suddenly manifest a mind-reading quirk? you look at him, but his gaze is above your head.

"halo."

"halo," you repeated, looking dumbly at the flickering ring above you.

"well then, enko, it's nice to meet you," he smirked.

"i'm not enko- i'm y/n-"

"enko’s better. i'm ground zero, the number one pro-"

"melonhero," you blurted.

"HUH?! what's that, moron?!"

"nothing, sorry, continue-" you apologized. what had gotten into you?

ground zero cleared his throat. "-number one pro-hero! ...it's katsuki bakugou to you."

"bakugou, i'm y/n l/n, nice to meet you! oh, and um- where are my manners? -thank you for the other day."

"don't go giving your purse to random men on the street, dumbass."

"it wasn't like that!" you protested. "i mean, what if he was going through a rough time? or, his parents kicked him out-"

"doesn't justify anything. you're so naive," he grunted. "didn't your parents teach you self-defense or anything?"

"w-well, no, not really..." you mumbled. you'd always just been their angel, delicate and thoughtful. you never wanted to disappoint them; always staying inside to clean or cater to their needs. their perfect angel. in their opinion, villains could never touch you if you never went out.

you recalled a time in your youth when deciding on a high school.

"i wanna go to ua!" you'd said. you knew a teacher willing to recommend you, so you didn't need to worry about much.

"honey, no, you can't be a hero..." your father started. "you're an angel, you're our angel, okay?"

your mom nodded. "it'll be dangerous, angel, and we can't have you getting hurt day after day," she added.

you simply agreed, not wanting to upset your parents. they were always right. being a hero wasn't worth it, anyway, you told yourself. it was an unstable job. you'd entered a private high school near the coast of japan, instead of ua.

"eh?! well, how are you supposed to fend for yourself alone?!" bakugou exclaimed.

"i'm... supposed to stay at home..." you confessed quietly.

"then why are you here?!"

"...i moved away from my family."

"and you didn't learn to protect yourself? get yourself some pepper spray, idiot!" bakugou grabbed your wrist, abruptly leading you to an aisle with pepper spray in it. he briefly paused, then picked one.

"it's on me. i can't have more morons like you to save when you could save yourself."

"thank you," you said. in all of his vulgarity, bakugou was semi-decent. you wondered why he was so on edge constantly; perhaps it was a trait from being a high-demand hero.

"HEY!" bakugou yelled, making you jump in place. "whatcha smilin' at?!"

you wiped the small grin that subconsciously crept on your face. "n-nothing."

"tch, so quiet, enko." he looked above you. "halo’s gone? fuckin' weird-ass quirk."

"could you... um... nevermind." you originally wanted to ask him to tone down the swearing, but thought better of it. the vulgarity reminded you of your uncle, and you a gagged at the thought of the disgusting man who'd occasionally crash at your family's home completely wasted.

"what? just spit it out," bakugou said. "i don't get offended, unlike deku or something."

"can you... cut down on the swearing?" you ask, then add more quickly when you see his face. "i mean, it's okay if you wanna keep doing it. i can't stop you. y'know, freedom of speech and everything."

"okay," he said with surprising composure. he didn't question the request, instead looking at you intently.

your gaze was set down, trying not to think of your uncle, and the horrors you'd gone through as a child because of him.

"i- um- sorry," bakugou forced out of himself. "i didn't mean t-"

"don't worry," you smiled cheerily. a fake smile, but you tried to convince yourself it was real.

"d'you-" he coughed, "d'you wanna talk about it?" he seemed to be going through something in his mind. "there's a park nearby - god, what did hitomi say? - we can, uh, talk it out? you can vent."

"oh no, it's fine, you're busy, a pro-hero." you said nervously.

"ah- yeah," bakugou seemed to be flustered too. "my therapist though- uh, she's really damn good- i mean, really good-" he pulls out a wallet from his pocket and sifts through cards. "here." he handed you a business card, advertising 'HITOMI YABUKI' in bold.

you blinked at him and accepted the card reluctantly. pro-heroes were really kind at heart, huh? "is she a pro-hero therapist?" you asked.

"her? no, she does other stuff. normal stuff, trauma, quirk stuff, erm- whatever you need. she's an all-rounder."

"oh." you put the card in your pocket. "okay, thank you."

he grunted, accepting the thanks. "need to buy anything else?"

you glanced at your cart. "no, that's all. thanks for everything, bakugou-"

"i'll pay," he blurted. "for it all." he looks surprised at himself, perhaps even angry. "oh, no thank you-"

"i'll do it. i mean it. you didn't even buy much," he muttered.

"o-okay," you said. he snatched your cart from your hand, walking to a self-checkout.

"weren't you gonna buy anything?" you asked.

"eh?!" he grunted while scanning items.

that was the end of the conversation. once he finished, he swiped his card and handed you a bag.

"make sure you use the damn pepper spray."

it was only once you got home that you realized he slipped his number into one of the bags.

you see bakugou again at hitomi yabuki's therapy lobby. he sat casually, earbuds on as he stared at his phone. you debated sitting next to him and decided against it, not wanting to bother him. you didn’t contact his number yet; your hands sweated at the thought. as much as you were tempted, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of a pro-hero.

you found yourself staring at the man, who was unusually calm at the moment. you stared at his eyelashes, his eyes, down to his nose and lips, and his firm set jaw. your eyes fell to the phone he’s clutching, to the curve of his fingers and uniform nails.

"l/n y/n?" a tall woman called your name. bakugou looked up at you, and for a split second you could see what looked like a genuine smile before it was twisted into a smirk.

"yes!" you stood up and followed her, glancing back at bakugou before he disappeared from your sight. after a short elevator ride, you walked out onto the third floor.

she led you down a short, carpeted hallway to the last door. it was an opaque glass door that said "hitomi yabuki" on a plaque.

"so, what brings you here?" she finally said once the two of you were seated. "um- bakugou?" you said.

she smiled and jotted something down. "is that so?"

"yeah. we met a couple times by accident, and uh, he gave me your business card."

the rest of the session was just introductions - prices, meeting times, and therapy that can be provided. still, you weren’t really sure if you needed the therapy - maybe it’d be suited more for someone else struggling more than you. you didn’t need to use your quirk much; flying wasn’t much your style anyway. what would your parents think if they found out you were taking therapy? they’d surely be hurt, assuming that they didn’t provide a good childhood to you. you could practically hear your mom asking you why you’d waste money on therapy. you took a deep breath as you re-entered the lobby. bakugou was seating in the same place you last saw him, still on his phone. you bid goodbye to the receptionist, thinking out your decisions. your insurance could cover much of the costs for the therapy, but you still wondered if you should spend the money. these thoughts trailed you as you waited on the sidewalk for a cab, watching your breath billow in front of you.

"hey, enko."

your elbow shot out by instinct, hitting the invader of your thoughts.

"woah, idiot, it’s just me." luckily, bakugou had caught your stray elbow, chuckling to himself. "so the angel does know self-defense, eh?"

you stiffened at the pet name, though you knew bakugou meant well. you could remember each distinctive voice in your childhood. your parents beckoning: angel. your nickname: angel. how everyone saw you: angel. you could never escape it, not with your halo or wings. it was so distinctive, your defining quality. whether he noticed the shift in your posture, he didn’t say. "how was it? hitomi’s great, right?"

you hummed in response, rubbing your wings together for heat.

"are wings supposed to get cold? aren’t they just... feathers?"

your wings ruffled at the comment. you sniffed. "they’re sensitive."

"weird," bakugou muttered under his breath. for a split second, you considered smacking him with your wing, but you stopped yourself before you could execute the instinct.

your cab pulled up by the sidewalk. "that’s my ride." you smiled and waved to him as you entered the car. somewhere during the 15 minute car ride, you mustered up the courage to finally text bakugou.

who knew he was so dirty-minded, anyway? you leaned back in your car seat, exhaling. thankfully, you didn’t text the wrong number or prematurely end the conversation. so, now you were friends with a pro-hero, or so you assumed (friends texted each other, right?). the you from 10 years ago would be jumping for joy at the prospect of befriending a pro-hero, and here you were. you finally booked a therapy session for saturday at 3pm. you checked into the lobby ten minutes early, just as your parents had taught you, and took a seat in the lobby.

when it was finally your turn, you found yourself back in hitomi's office, the familar scent of vanilla and fresh linen wafting in the air.

"i hope you don't mind the scent," she said.

you shook your head. "it's fine." the fragrance was almost reassuring in a way, but you couldn’t pin point it. this time, you allowed yourself to drink in your surroundings. hitomi’s office was spacious, a large window overlooking tokyo’s snow-covered cityscape adding onto the effect. the walls followed a vertical gradient pattern of mint green and light blue decorated with paintings, hanging plants, and wooden shelves yet not in a cluttered way. in the center, against a wall, was a white couch. it had an oddly calming aura to it, as if you'd stepped into a dream outside reality.

"would you like an apple? or some water?" hitomi offered.

you weren’t really in the mood for either, but accepted the water. she gestured for you to sit on the couch.

the meeting consisted of her asking and you answering, the topic changing from family life, to your quirk, to your feelings.

"so, can you explain your quirk to me?" hitomi asked.

"well..." you gathered your thoughts. "obviously, i have wings like an angel. they don’t really do anything, though, just get sensitive to the weather. i used to have a halo when i was young, but it’s faded by now. dunno why. let’s see...." you paused. "i guess i have an inclination to help others? it’s hard for me to say no to things, honestly."

"is it because of your quirk?"

"probably," you admitted. "i’ve always been like this, i think."

"can you fly with your wings?"

"no." you sipped your water. "i guess i never learned. i’d try, but i don’t think they can support my body weight."

"how do you feel about your quirk?"

you shrugged, but then regretted it. you didn’t want to seem insensitive to all the quirkless people who could only wish for a quirk. "it’s- it’s cool, i guess. it makes me unique..." you thought back to your parents’ words, how they’d praised you for such an amazing quirk. when you used to feel bad about your quirk, they’d always remind you that there were children who’d wish to even have a quirk at all, and that you were special. your mother’s quirk allowed her to shine small rays of light through her fingertips, while your dad’s quirk gave him a wing attached to his left arm. it was pretty much useless for anything other than generating wind, considering he didn’t have a right wing to balance him out. their quirks together worked out just right to create you, their perfect angel. hitomi jotted something on her notepad.

the more you thought of it, the more you felt broken. you'd been doing therapy with hitomi for months now, and it had gotten harder and harder to emotionally process. your parents, your family, your quirk; you now saw the things for what they were.

your parents had used you. you were their doll, their perfect obedient angel, and it disgusted you. your hands felt tainted, your wings heavy weights on your back. you were revolted by yourself; looking in the mirror, you couldn't help but gag, seeing not the you of now, but the you of the past looking back at you. you couldn't sleep; tossing and turning and ruffling your wings in frustration. you couldn't stop thinking about your parents, how they restricted you from everything.

you wondered how it'd be different if your parents were better. you wondered if you'd gotten into ua and strengthened your quirk. you wondered how your reputation as a pushover would change. maybe you'd be a hero right now, helping others instead of being so irreparably broken. you could hear the catcalls from your classmates like bullets beating your wings. angel, the goody-two-shoes who couldn't say no.

not once did you cry. maybe you felt too disgusted by yourself. maybe bakugou was becoming the best friend you'd ever had.

he was there for you. making spicy curry or those awful, equally spicy instant korean noodles - he was there for you, in the same way milk is there for you when eating a particularly spicy dish. he listened to you, and you did the same for him. you laughed and joked together. somehow, in such a dark time, your friendship bloomed. it was strange, really. his reputation as a hero made him out to be aggressive and careless - and while he could brash in word choice at times, you knew he had a good heart. at one point, you’d even opened up to him about your past.

"then deku just completely f- messed up the mission! i could’ve blown up the damn guy, but he had to play mr. goody-two-shoes and just tie him up. and he got all the interview time. what’s even up with that?!"

he talked about his friends a lot. he'd deny his relationship with them being something other than strictly professional, but the way his crimson eyes would deepen gave it all away. he mainly spoke of deku and red riot (though their names would be referenced in cruder ways).

"what if- what if i was a hero?" you asked suddenly.

bakugou lifted an eyebrow. "you'd be a damn good hero if you could manage your quirk. like hawks."

"you think the public would like me?"

"duh. you're pretty, kind, AND fight villains? pretty badass. hell, if i approve of you, anyone would."

you smiled.

"why, though?" bakugou asked.

"curious. i, um, used to want to be a hero. growing up."

"your quirk has potential." bakugou leaned back on the couch. "why didn't ya become one?"

"parents." you flinched as the word passed your lips. thinking about your parents was painful, as if you had to rip off a month old bandaid before you could even get their faces into your mind. "they just... worried," you said. you didn't say anything else.

"betcha couldn't come up with a hero name as damn awesome as ground zero." "i could barely remember it," you teased.

"though, i must say, i do like enko as a hero name. it's like i'm joining an idol group."

"akb48 has nothing on you though," bakugou said.

you flushed. "i-i don't think you've looked at them properly, then."

"nah, i have, ochaco's obsessed with idol groups. don't doubt me, enko~" his voice was dangerously close, but he hadn't moved an inch from his original spot. "you're prettier than all the idols combined. tch, how low do you think my standards are?!"

"they're idol groups, bakugou, they practically rely on visuals!"

"eh? who cares? you've beaten them in looks and personality."

the thing about bakugou was that he was always completely honest with his thoughts. his integrity always amazed you, but then again, he was a pro-hero. you were quick to change the subject. "um- then-- what time is it? it must be getting late. i should get home-"

bakugou frowned. "it's late, idiot. eat before you go. i have some leftover tonkatsu and rice, and i can whip up the miso-"

"n-no, it's fine bakugou, you don't need to-"

"idiot, i can't have you starve to damn death on the ride home. eat."

even if you wanted to protest, you couldn't. bakugou's cooking was always to good to pass up, alarmingly spicy or not.

"the rice is still warm in the rice cooker," bakugou finally said, turning towards the kitchen. he knew you'd follow him, and you did.

bakugou busied himself making some instant miso soup and reheating the tonkatsu. you prepared yourself for the spicy of bakugou's tonkatsu; you'd had it once before, and it was quite painful. finally done, bakugou sat to the side of you eating tonkatsu as well, seasoning his with extra chili flakes. he was positively crazy; how did he handle such spice?

you cut yourself a strip and brought it to your lips. the tonkatsu was surprisingly tame for bakugou's cooking; it could've passed for normal restaurant tonkatsu.

"thish ish good," you said in between bites.

"i know," he gritted out, but he looked proud. "would be better with chili."

you shook your head, smiling. "never in a million years."

it was often you thought of this moment. it was so happy, so complete. it was just you and bakugou, simply being. right now, a genuine smile was something you couldn't curl your lips into, no matter how hard you tried. when you did, the taste of something salty crept into you mouth.

something salty...?

you touched your face. it was wet. your head spun, and then it dawned on you: you were crying. you were crying? your eyes focused, and pain throbbed in your head. lights shone too bright on you, heightening your headache, and a foul taste lingered in your mouth. you were suddenly aware of something solid in your hand: a drink.

something else you were aware of was how much you wanted to go home. you could barely remember what led you to a club as you fumbled in your purse for your phone, glancing at the time and unlocking the screen. all you needed to do was go home. you really wanted to go home, but where was home? home was gone. home...

a fresh wave of tears glossed your face, and you ignored the person next to you's advances. you didn't even know why you were crying. you struggled to read your contacts, dizzy, and called the first one you can make out with your hazed vision.

bakugou.

yes, all you wanted right now was bakugou. you wanted him and his warm arms, his endearing words. you wanted him so bad. you wanted him, and his warmth, and his happiness. you wanted his scent of comfort, the smile that made you feel fuzzy. you wanted his voice to shelter you precisely at that moment, you wanted to feel like it was him and you against the world.

"dumbass? hello? where are you? why is it so freaking loud? enko?"

you hadn't realized that a low quality projection of his voice was speaking on your phone.

"b-bakugou," you said, though it came out hoarsely. "bakugou."

"enko? where are you, and why are you calling at ass o'clock in the morning?"

"miss you," you almost said, but instead it came out as "dunno, you," a mix between "dunno" and "miss you."

"eh? where are you?"

you shrugged. "come here."

"send me your location, moron, and stay where you a-"

you hung up to send him your location.

you yawned and rubbed your forehead. everything was loud, everyone was together. and you were alone. it made you sad. you wanted to have somebody. a voice in the back of your head told you that you had bakugou. did you? right, he was coming. did you tell him to come?

you pressed the call button again.

"what is it?" bakugou asked roughly.

"lonelyyyy..." you moaned. "pick me up, baku...."

"idiot, i'm on my way. why the fuck are you so far from where you live?"

"hmm mmmhm," you strung together sounds. "'m sad."

"don't be." he sounded mad. he always sounded mad.

"why are you always mad at me?" you pouted.

"i'm not, dumbass! i'm pulling in."

"hmmm...!"

bakugou almost tore through the door with rage. "ENKO, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE."

you hopped toward him, wobbling a bit. the floor seemed to turn under you. enko! that was you! right?

"bakuuugoooou~" you cooed, flopping into his arms. "let's sleep."

he smelled nice. his scent enveloped you, a mix of vanilla and caramel that you’d grown so accustomed to.

he stiffened. "dumbass, i can smell the alcohol on you, we’re going the fuck home."

"don’ wanna," you whined. "lonely. wanna be with youuuuu..." you nuzzled more into his chest, finding comfort in his body warmth. you didn’t want to let go, ever. "tch, fine."

the car ride to bakugou’s place was uncomfortable. cars spun by you, lights making you woozy. you almost bashed your head on the dashboard. your seat was uncomfortable, the seatbelt itched you. despite all that, you stopped to stare at bakugou in your daze, all serious and set on the road. he had nice biceps, and his side profile was a sight for sore eyes (see also: your eyes).

"what, enko?" he grunted, glancing at you.

you said the first thing that came to your mind. "you know you smell nice?"

"huh?" he glanced at you, turning in to his driveway.

well, there was no going back now. "you smell like caramel... and vanilla... it’s nice..." you sighed happily, imagining the fragrance.

bakugou didn’t reply, instead parking and unlocking the doors. "get out, dumbass, it’s past your bedtime."

"but i don’t haaaaaave a bedtime," you slurred, stumbling out of the car. bakugou mumbled a complaint before hoisting you over his shoulder. it was probably not the best move, considering the blood rushing to your head made you feel sick. after entering his house, bakugou set you down on a sofa, sitting you upright.

"stay here."

you leaned back on the sofa, feeling suddenly empty. the buzz in your head had not quite left, but the weight of the world came crashing down again. therapy, your parents, your quirk. it struck you that you were probably bothering bakugou and disturbing his sleep; he was a pro-hero after all, lives depended on his health. but here you were, ever so selfish and probably taking a toll on his health.

"drink." you hadn't realized bakugou had put a glass of water in your hands. you simply nodded and gulped it down, hoping to sober yourself up.

you stared at the man glossy eyed, glass in your hand half empty. "bakugou."

"eh?"

"sorry."

"for what?"

"y'know... waking you up... bothering you... i know you're busy, and-"

"shut up, it doesn't matter. i'd rather you here than in the hands of some douche at the club."

"but still, how would i make it up-"

"by sleeping well. off to bed you go."

he started pushing you towards the hallway. "where will you sleep?"

"sofa."

"but bakugou-"

"go to bed."

"i feel sick-"

"hah?"

a rising sensation of bile emerged in your throat. the only words you could get out of your mouth was "bathroom," before you rushed in. it was not a pretty sight - you preferred to skim over the details when recalling it. the details you did not skim over, however, were that of bakugou's care; for being awoken at ungodly hours in the morning, he was surprisingly gentle with your vomiting state, soothing your stomach with warm hands and rubbing your back. after, he gave you a glass of water and forced you to take ibuprofen, though you swore you felt fine.

bakugou's bed was surprisingly comfortable. then again, bakugou did claim to have gone to bed at 8:30 sharp daily during his high school years, so it made sense he still valued sleep.

you were then reminded how you disrupted his.

and how you were now forcing him to sleep on the sofa.

you padded out of his room, wearing one of bakugou's old shirts that he'd graciously lended you, to the living room. he was laying on his back, feet sticking out of the sofa, eyes closed.

"what?" he asked, eyes still shut.

you knew he wouldn't let you feel guilty about intruding his sleep, so you settled upon saying the next best thing. it was partially true, anyway.

"'m lonely without you." your voice came out smaller than intended.

"huh?" he sat up, groggily looking at you.

"it's- kinda cold, and y'know, with your quirk..."

he grunted and obliged, walking toward his bedroom. you stood behind him, staring at his back; that was surprisingly easy.

bakugou slept with his arms around you, so you were nestled comfortably into his chest. this position felt strangely domestic; something lovers might do nightly. but you and bakugou weren't lovers, you were friends. image of you and bakugou involved romantically faded into your mind; coffee shop dates, cooking together, waking up next to each other. there was a sudden loss of breath in your chest, as if your heart had become weightless and was lifted by a thousand of butterflies taking flight. bakugou... romantically? it hadn't crossed your mind. still, you could see it so vividly in your mind; you, becoming his dumbass, his and his only. you could imagine how he'd look at you, full of love in his eyes, and how he'd gently kiss your forehead in the morning. was it so bad to want that? the more your thoughts indulged you, the more his body warmth drowsed you, his calm breathing adding to the effect. he was practically nyquil in human form. you found yourself nodding off in his arms, not before mumbling a quiet "what if i liked bakugou?" and clutching his shirt closer to you.

you were far too engrossed in the realm of sleep to hear bakugou's faint but hopeful reply of "i'd hope so, dumbass."

at your next therapy meeting, you told hitomi about bakugou. it was unplanned, spilling out of your mouth as soon as she asked why you looked so anxious. you couldn't like bakugou. you blamed your slightly intoxicated past self for planting such a thought in your brain, but you knew it just admitted a lingering feeling from in your heart. you spared her the details of the throwing up and the guilt that gnawed at you regarding how bakugou cared for you.

"it's... childish, right? like an old schoolgirl crush," you flushed, finishing your confession.

hitomi shook her head. "it's good to feel this way, actually. it's quite healthy for a twenty-something like you to harbour such feelings; it allows you to explore your feelings and relationships healthily."

even so, crushing was so damn frustrating. it's one thing to like a person; it's a completely different experience after admitting to yourself, yes, they're my crush. when you were younger, you very rarely developed crushes (as influenced by your parents) and even less were able to act on them. but now, as an adult, you had the freedom to act (or not, considering how your nerves constantly started to act up around bakugou). you decided to push the feelings down; you were just friends, and bakugou had no time to pursue a romantic relationship.

if having a crush was like an addiction, rehab was torture for you. gone were the days of seeing bakugou as platonic; you couldn't stop your heart from swelling whenever he recounted his day to you. bakugou had now become attractive, from his tight, bulging muscles to his hard chest. it did not help that you had to see him in his hero costume flaunting those features every other day on the news.

you convinced yourself bakugou harboured nothing but platonic sentiment for you, but he never failed to send your heart aflutter with discreet compliments he hid under rough comments. you started leaving early whenever the two of your hung out under the guise of other plans (that in reality didn't exist), and tried to always cut conversations short when you bumped into each other in public. he was ground zero, pro-hero, and you were just a civilian who could barely maintain their quirk.

you were just starting your quirk therapy, but you couldn't expect major changes a week in. bakugou had said your wings looked brighter, but you assumed he just said that to make you feel better. you could hover off the ground for less than a second now, but your wing strength lacked too much to be able to do anything requiring more strength. your halo was still absent, and you couldn't figure out how to make it reappear. there hadn't been much research done on the essence of halos; hitomi said not to worry about it regardless.

flap flap flap.

"oi, dumbass, you're gonna create a tornado in here."

flap flap flap.

"i'm practicing flying."

"well, you're going nowhere. d'you want me to call hawks or something?" flap flap flap.

you turned to bakugou, folding your wings neatly. he had the same expression as always, slightly disapproving and tired. your eyes meet his momentously; but they fall down immediately to his lips. lately, this kind of thing had been happening often. bakugou acted like he didn't notice you'd been different lately, but you could tell he wanted an explanation.

you acted on your impulse, your mouth opening and words tumbling from your mouth.

"bakugou- idon'twanttoruinourfriendshipbutijustwannasayitnow- ilikeyou."

"what?" why did you do that?

if this were a texting conversation, you'd leave him on read. if this was a tweet, you'd make your account private. if this was a video call, you'd end it.

alas, this was real life, so you resorted to the next closest thing: you ran. you ran faster than any shoujo girl and with more conviction than any shounen boy, and then you were lost. damn cities.

panting on the sidewalk, wings heaving up and down, you realized what you did. staring at the edge of the pavement, where the curb met the street, hands on your knees, it hit you.

you cussed and yelled at yourself mentally, and though a small part doubted bakugou even heard you, you didn’t allow yourself to have hope. it was game over. you let your feelings override rational thought, and you ruined what was arguably the best thing going on in your life.

you were interrupted by an itch in your feathers from being so cramped while folded. they ruffled against the cool air, distraught. you stretched them out, observing your surroundings and allowing yourself to cool down. the breeze was a satisfying sensation against your feathers, and you hovered just a moment when they flapped.

"mommy, wings!" a kid passes you on the sidewalk, pointing. his mother hushes him, but you smile at him.

the next few days were rough, particularly because you were avoiding bakugou. it was definitely not a good idea, but it was a temporary patch over the open part of your heart.

this was not one of your healthy coping mechanisms.

did he text you? did he call you? you didn’t know, because you turned off your notifications. you knew you were just making things more awkward, even more so if he hadn’t heard you at all. it gave you all the more excuse to ignore him longer.

now, with evenings to yourself, your mind wandered more. your thoughts drifted into a vast desert of tangled constellations in your mind, tightropes you’d tread that would lead you to a random destination. sometimes it led you to random memories - other times, it wasn’t as random, leading you to painful manifestations in your heart. these were the things you tried so hard to ignore, but rang so true.

you were reminded by the constellations in your mind that you were being terribly selfish to bakugou; not even considering his feelings. bakugou didn't deserve you. maybe stars twinkled in your mind, but the bluest ones burned you to the touch. you needed to get over bakugou.

that wasn’t to say it didn’t hurt, trying to get over bakugou. the stars in your mind dimmed, and perhaps, at one point, the constellations were reduced to thread; knotted, tangled, and hopeless.

maybe it was better when the string had been unkempt, because now it unraveled. you cried, and cried; in the shower, at your desk, doing chores. tears, hot and sharp like newly shapen diamonds, dripped down your face. your face was permanently marked by the wounds the diamonds left, and contrary to the stars, your eyes were red and hot. your thoughts unwound like string - there was a clear pathway now, but it was tainted by the shape of the knots there had once been.

everything hurt when you thought of bakugou. your swollen eyes became lifeless as memories of him overtook you. they controlled you. you missed therapy session after session, too scared to go to the place which bakugou had connected you to. sometimes, you’d sprawl across the ground, stare into your ceiling, and feel yourself vanish into something, a dark void of nothingness. he had cared so much for you - too much. why had he? why couldn’t he have left you, that one day you were almost robbed? why couldn’t you just have stayed the way you were? why did you have to find the truth in things? ignorance was a bliss you woke yourself from. ignorance, the dream which from you woke to find a nightmare, reality. why did he have to be him, the stupid pro-hero with a heart that bled kindness into yours? why couldn’t he have stayed a two-dimensional public figure, the careless and angry ground zero? why did he have to be in your goddamn life and ruin it, entangle everything into one big mess? you hated him. you hated him and his stupid endearing insults, him and his rugged smirk that pained your heart so, him and his eyes that held sparks and diamonds and you. deep inside, you knew it wasn’t true; hate was just a name for an indefinably strong feeling you had for him. you knew you didn’t hate him, you knew you couldn’t hate him. you told yourself you did to distance yourself from him. the distance between you and he only grew. your memories were tarnished with pain, his image blurry and wrinkled in your eyes. katsuki bakugou was just someone, no one.

this was the feeling of agony, this was the sight of pure hell, and this was the sound of you burning your heart. distance between you and the man named katsuki bakugou grew, as did your descent into pure madness.

until the distance between you and he was less than a metre.

you had not bothered to tame your hair; it was a bit overgrown and sprouted a couple split ends. you were dressed in a stained shirt, your face not even mentionable, and your heart was beating in your ears. you felt yourself dragged quite forcefully down to sanity, as if opening the door suddenly put gravity into effect.

because here he was, katsuki bakugou in all of his perfect glory, standing on your doorstep.

the little shit refrained from making a comment about your current state, but you could see the comment appearing in his eyes and vanishing as soon as it came. you watched his eyes go from the state of your face down to your unkempt attire. he, on the other hand, looked unaffected. he was sporting a t-shirt and jeans, hands shoved into his pockets. the only indicator, which was minuscule at best, that he had changed at all was the red at the corners of his eyes and slight eyebags. he looked shocked at the sight of you.

"y/n..." you almost fainted on the spot.

you weren’t not jumping for joy in ecstasy at the sight of him, and you didn’t feel like a shoujo protagonist at the moment. it was something different.

"again," but your voice was too hoarse to be heard. your mouth opened and closed, you coughed, and repeated yourself. "s-say it again."

"huh?!" it was nice to know someone hadn’t changed after all that time.

"my- my name..."

"eh? enko."

you sighed, your face indifferent. you weren’t exactly disappointed by his reply; it brought memories upon memories of happier times with him.

"well, what do you want?" you asked, rubbing the side of your face.

"what- what the fuck is going on?" he gestured to you. "i should be asking about you. what the f- what happened to you?!"

"i-"

"enko, i don’t get any of this shit. this relationship crap. what do you want me to do?! first, you act weird as shit- because of what?! i don’t fuckin’ know. you avoid me - don’t think i didn’t notice - and then suddenly you spew shit and leave?! i don’t see you for a goddamn week, you don’t answer your damn calls or texts, and suddenly i’m the damn villain and i’m supposed to give you time or shit to figure things out, and when i can finally fucking see you, you look like actual crap?! hell, i should be the one with deteriorating mental health with all of the bull you put me through! if you want something, if you don’t wanna be friends or shit, just goddamn say it to my face! i’m not good with people, enko, goddamnit! tell me what’s wrong!"

you stood in shock. relationship..? you shook his words away. you hadn’t realized how much this took a toll on bakugou, too. he looked away - something glinted in his eyes, but you couldn’t tell exactly what.

"god-fucking-damnit," he grumbled. "...are ya gonna let me in, or what?! it’s cold out here!"

you didn’t think about how bakugou’s quirk involved producing heat, and let him in unreluctantly, stepping aside. "sorry," you mumbled.

he took off his shoes, and you motioned for him to sit down on your couch.

"explain it to me," he demanded. "what in the goddamn world has happened tot you? did someone do this to you?!"

you refrained from saying technically, it was you, and settled on: "no." it was apparent he hadn’t heard you that day. "just- it’s nothing. i was being stupid, a-and i’m okay now." it was a lie.

"do you take me as an idiot?" he asked. gears shifted in his eyes. "sit down," he said, suddenly calm.

you did so, sitting as farthest as you could from him.

"closer," he gritted out. you scooted a centimetre. "closer." another centimeter. "clo-ser." he pulled you so you were sitting angled toward him, knee brushing his.

"baku...gou?" so many questions flashed in your mind.

"confirm something for me," he ordered. "what exactly did you say to me before running away?"

"i- nothing. it was nothing, i told you, bakugou."

"tell. me. i don’t care if you quoted freud, told me a failed joke, or what. tell me."

your mind was devoid of possible jokes you could use to lie.

you opened your mouth, forcing the words out with all your might. "i don’t remember the specifics," you rambled. "i don’t think i was in the right state of mind-"

"spit it out."

"i think it went something like ‘i like you’ or something?" your pitch rose with every syllable.

"tch," a smile was on his face. "thought so." his hand was suddenly on your cheek, and his lips were on yours. he tasted like caramel. your eyes widened, and you pulled away, sputtering.

"what? what d’you mean, ‘thought so’?!"

"idiot, i like you too. also, when did you last brush your teeth?"

"i- that doesn’t matter. bakugou... i don’t think that this relationship is good for us. as friends or whatnot."

"huh? why not?"

"look at me. look at you. i can barely handle my quirk, and you’re a pro-hero who uses his quirk to help people. i can’t really do anything."

he mumbled something under his breath. "enko, do you think i care about any of that? i don’t care if you have the strongest quirk in the world or none at all. you’re strong - and i don’t say this ‘cause i like you - you’re kind, you see the best in people." he paused. "people don’t give me the time of day ‘cause they think i’m too irrational. brash. careless. but you? you see past that, you don’t care. you work hard no matter what people say. people-" his voice caught in his throat, "people say shit to you, and you don’t care. you keep going."

he saw you... like that? your face heated up.

"don’t be gettin’ all shy on me," he grunted. "tch. come here." he pulled you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around you and narrowly avoiding your wings. you flushed, holding him tight and inhaling his caramel scent. you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing to hold him like this forever.

“hey, enko,” he whispered into your ear. you looked at him, who was currently looking up and pointing. “halo.”

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buckybarnesdollface · 4 years ago

Text

Mountainside: Chapter 1

Summary: What happens when the quinjet goes down in the Austrian Alps and reader gets snowed in with Bucky at the safe house he brought her to in the mountains?

Warnings: Female reader, just fluff in this chapter

“It’s not much farther,” Bucky urged as I stopped to clutch at a stitch in my side. Our quinjet had been shot down somewhere in the Allgӓu Alps in Austria by a HYDRA drone, and we had been wandering the snowy mountainside for what felt like hours now. The snow was deep, and with every step I took I sunk into it up to my knees. My left arm hung limply at my side, having been injured in the crash, and my legs burned from trudging through the deep snow. I had only been wearing my jumpsuit when we crashed, and although Bucky had insisted I take his jacket I was still chilled to the bone. My teeth chattered, my fingers and toes were numb, and my chest ached with every ragged breath I took as a result of the frigid air and my physical exhaustion.

“Easy for you to say,” I snapped weakly. “Your body can withstand a hell of a lot more than mine.”

“I offered to carry you.”

I shot him a disparaging look. “I may not be in great shape right now, but I still have my dignity.”

“Let me know what your dignity is worth when we reach the safehouse and you can’t even move because your legs are like lead,” Bucky replied with a shrug, and then he trudged ahead of me, leaving me to glare at his back as I mustered up the strength to keep going.

Truth be told, I was grateful that it had been Bucky on this mission with me. He was strong, smart, resourceful, calm in a crisis, and he knew this area well from when HYDRA still controlled him. If it wasn’t for him, even if I had managed to drag myself out of the wreckage of the jet, I would have had no idea how to navigate the mountain to get to the safehouse, let alone that there even was a safehouse nearby. So, despite how frustrating it was to see how easily he was handling this while I felt like death, I was glad to have him as a companion.

I almost cried in relief as we broke through the trees and the safehouse came into sight. It was just a small cabin nestled in the trees on the mountainside, but right now it offered a place to rest my aching body and warm up and it might as well have been a goddamn castle.

“Thank god,” I groaned, sinking to my knees in the snow. Bucky turned and cocked a dark eyebrow.

“You realize now you probably won’t be able to get back up, right?” he pointed out, and I shrugged.

“I don’t even care. We made it. I’ll crawl the rest of the way if I have to.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, and then he was slipping his hands under my arms – careful not to jostle the injured one – and hauled me back to my feet. “If you won’t let me carry you, at least let me help you,” he insisted. “Lean on my shoulder.”

Too tired to argue, I leaned heavily against Bucky’s side. His arm slipped around my waist, and truth be told he all but held me upright as we made our way to the cabin. He pressed a button at the door and then leaned in close to the speaker.

“Sergeant James Barnes,” he said in a clear, even voice, and then I heard a lock click. Bucky turned the knob and pulled me inside, stomping the snow off his boots on the mat. I tried to do the same, but as Bucky had predicted, my legs felt like lead. “Stay here,” he told me, and then he was grabbing a chair from the small kitchen table, setting it in front of me. He helped me sit before kneeling in front of me and lifting one of my feet to rest it on his knee.

“What are you doing?” I asked warily.

“Helping you. You can barely move, you’re so cold and stiff, and if you don’t get these boots off you’ll end up with frostbite.” His fingers were deft as they untied my laces, and then he gently took a hold of my calf and slid off one boot, then the other. Next, he peeled off my wet socks, and I felt my cheeks heat up as he examined my bare feet.

“The skin’s white – That’s an early stage of frostbite,” he said. “It won’t do damage, but it’ll be uncomfortable. I’m gonna start a fire before we do anything else so I can at least get you warmed up some.”

I watched as he stood and crossed the room to the small fireplace, arranging kindling and then logs expertly in the hearth. He lit a match, carefully lowering it to the kindling, and within a moment the fire was crackling. He came back over and helped me off the chair and over to the couch. The heat the little fire gave off was a relief after the biting cold of the mountain air, and I let out a soft sigh as I leaned towards the warmth.

“Not too close,” Bucky ordered, shoving me back into the couch gently but firmly. “If you warm up too fast it’ll put your body in shock. It has to be gradual.”

“But I’m freezing,” I whined.

“Taking off that wet jumpsuit would help.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “And do what, sit here in my underwear? I have nothing else to wear, Barnes.”

With a sigh, Bucky pulled the fleece sweater over his head, and then tugged off the blue Henley underneath as well. I coughed uncomfortably, shaking my head.

“If you think that you stripping down is going to make me want to –”

“The shirt is for you,” Bucky grumbled, tossing the Henley to me before pulling the sweater back over his head. “Put it on until I have time to search for more clothes.”

I blushed, caught off-guard as Bucky turned around so I could change. With clumsy fingers still numb with cold, I managed to pull down the zipper in the front of the jumpsuit and shrug the damp material from my shoulders. As soon as my skin was exposed to the air I shivered, and then quickly pulled Bucky’s Henley on over my head, wincing as I lifted my injured arm. The shirt was still warm from Bucky’s supersoldier body heat, and it smelled like mountain air, smoke, and the lingering scent of his body wash he’d used that morning. I pulled it tight around me briefly, grateful to be wrapped in something warm and dry and soft, and then stood and shimmied my legs out of the jumpsuit, letting it drop to the floor. Because Bucky was a good deal taller than me, the shirt fell to my mid-thigh, covering my underwear. Satisfied, I sank back down onto the couch, crossing my legs and shoving my hands under my arms to try and warm them.

“Okay, I’m decent,” I said wryly, and he turned back around. Something unreadable flashed through his eyes as he looked at me, but it was gone in an instant and then he was coming over to pick up my discarded jumpsuit and hang it over a chair by the fire to dry.

“Feel any better?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Bucky grunted his response, heading to the kitchen to rummage through the cupboards. He came back with a first aid kit, and sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. “Let me see your arm,” he said, and I frowned.

“It’s fine, it’s just a scratch –”

“(Y/N), you’ve been holding it weird and babying it ever since I pulled you out from the wreckage. It needs to be looked at, so let me see it.”

Something in his tone told me not to argue with him, and I held out my left arm so he could gently roll the sleeve of his Henley up to expose my bicep. He frowned, brows pulling together as he turned my arm over lightly to examine the extent of the damage.

“It’s not broken,” he finally said, “but it’s pretty badly bruised and that gash is going to need to be cleaned out and stitched up.” He pulled a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the box and soaked a wipe with it before meeting my eyes. “This is going to sting, are you ready?”

“I just survived a plane crash and a trek over a mountain,” I scoffed. “I think I can handle a little rubbing alcohol.”

Bucky shrugged, and then dabbed the wipe lightly over my wound. I clenched my teeth, hissing through them, and reflexively pulled my arm away from him. Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow, lips quirking up at the corners, and I glared at him.

“Not a word,” I grumbled. His eyes sparkled.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Mhmm.”

Once he was satisfied the wound was clean, he threaded a needle with the nylon thread in the first aid kit and then gave me an expectant look. “Are you going to be okay with the actual stitches?” he asked wryly, and I scowled.

“Just hurry up and get it over with, Barnes.”

Bucky was very meticulous as he stitched up my wound, almost professional in his movements. I wondered if he had learned this particular skill in the war, or if it was something he had picked up during his time with HYDRA. Or maybe it went back much further than that, to the days when Steve would pick fights with guys twice his size and instead of telling his parents he had to go to the doctor again for stitches, Bucky learned to stitch him up himself. The thought had me struggling to suppress a grin, and Bucky looked up at me with a furrowed brow.

“Something funny?” he asked, and I shook my head.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, and he shook his head before continuing his work.

When Bucky finished, he cut the thread with his teeth and then wrapped a bandage around my bicep to cover the stitches. He sat back but narrowed his eyes as he looked at my face. “You got hit in the head,” he pointed out, lifting his flesh hand to run his fingertips just above my eyebrow. I winced; I hadn’t even known there’d been a cut there. “You could have a concussion,” Bucky continued. “Do you have a headache? Ringing in your ears? Blurry vision?”

I shook my head. “Bucky, I’m fine,” I insisted, slightly exasperated. “Contrary to what you may believe, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve had plenty of field experience, and plenty of injuries to go with it. If I had a concussion, I would know what signs to be wary of.”

“Let me see your eyes,” he demanded, as if he hadn’t heard me. He held a little flashlight, and I sighed. He shone the flashlight in my eyes and then sat back as he clicked it off. “You’re not concussed.”

“Which is what I already told you.”

Bucky pursed his lips. “You may think I’m overreacting and being overbearing,” he said, “but if you had been in this game as long as I have, you’d understand why I’m being like this. Back in the war, as a sergeant I led a firearms team of four men. If one of those men got injured, even something seemingly minor, it not only hindered the whole team, but the injury could also progress into something worse depending on the conditions we were in.” He frowned. “I lost good men to things as mundane as a broken finger or a cut on their leg. So if I’m taking the time to make sure your injuries are taken care of, it’s because I’ve seen things go downhill fast and I’m trying to get out of the habit of losing teammates.”

I blinked, at a loss for words. To say Bucky and I didn’t speak would be a lie – We talked quite a bit, but it was usually about missions or things Bucky was still trying to learn about the twenty-first century, or Steve. He had never once talked about his time in the 107th. I could tell now why he hadn’t; his eyes were hard, but held a heavy sadness in their depths. I bit my lip.

“I’m sorry I’m being so difficult,” I said softly. “I think it’s just the whole situation, and because I’m the newest member of the team and still so young, everyone just assumes that I don’t know as much, or I can’t handle myself and need to be looked out for. I just want to prove that I’m just as capable as the rest of you.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself, (Y/N), if need be,” he chuckled. “The point of being part of a team, though, is that you don’t have to. It’s great that you’re as independent as you are, but you don’t have to be.” He shook his head ruefully. “It took me a long time to relearn that after HYDRA.”

“Can I be honest about something?” I asked him, and he nodded.

“Of course.”

“When that quinjet went down, I…I was grateful that it was you with me,” I admitted, and then I realized how that sounded and my eyes widened. “I just mean…Out of all our teammates, you’re the best in situations like this, and if anyone was going to get us through this, it’d be you.”

This time, Bucky actually smiled. “Is that…is that a compliment? From (Y/N)? My god, did we actually die in that crash? Or has hell frozen over?”

I pursed my lips, but my grin couldn’t be concealed. “Yeah, yeah, soak it up,” I told him, “because it’s probably the only one you’re getting for awhile. They come in short supply.”

Bucky laughed. “I’ll take it. Now come here and let me clean that cut on your forehead.”

I leaned forward, and Bucky took an alcohol-soaked cotton ball and dabbed gently at the wound. I sucked in a sharp breath and his hand stilled, but I urged him to keep going. Once it was clean, he applied a butterfly bandage with a delicate touch that was unexpected for hands as large as his. His fingertips smoothed down the bandage and then he sat back.

“Your turn,” I said, and Bucky’s brow furrowed.

“What do you mean, I’m fine.”

“That huge gash along your cheekbone says otherwise.”

Bucky frowned. “I heal quickly; it’ll be gone by morning.”

“James.” My voice was stern as I used his real name. He pursed his lips, and I continued. “It’s been how long since the quinjet crashed, and the wound is still deep enough that your layer of soft tissue is exposed. Supersoldier healing or not, it needs to be cleaned and at least covered.” I shot him a wry look. “Teammates take care of each other, remember?”

“Ouch, using my own lessons against me,” he mocked, and I grinned before soaking a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and scooting to the edge of the couch to get closer to him. I lifted my good arm to dab gingerly at the open flesh, and Bucky sat there, unflinching, his eyes focused on me the entire time. A butterfly bandage wouldn’t suffice for a gash like this, so I applied a larger bandage to cover it and keep any dirt out until it at least started to heal.

“There,” I murmured, sitting back, and Bucky grinned.

“I’m gonna go find you some clean clothes,” he said, “and then why don’t you have a hot shower while I go outside and bring in some more firewood before it gets dark. I don’t know how long we’ll be here and I don’t want us to run out of wood.”

He disappeared down the hall to what I assumed was the bedroom, and returned a minute later with a pile of neatly-folded clothes in his hands. “They’ll likely be a bit big,” he said as he handed them to me, “but they’ll work. The water’s on, so the shower’s good to go. If you need anything, I won’t be far – The woodpile is just out back on the treeline there.”

“Alright, thank you,” I said, and he nodded before pulling his jacket on and ducking out the door. Sighing, I pulled myself up off the couch. My legs were still stiff and sore from trudging through the deep snow, but at least now I could stand without feeling like I would topple over. I made my way down the narrow hallway, where I found a quaint little bathroom. I turned on the water as hot as I could stand it, and then stripped bare and stepped under the stream.

I immediately moaned as the heat from the water seeped through my skin to warm my cold, aching muscles and bones. I stood like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being enveloped in warmth, before I lathered shampoo into my hair to hopefully get the smell of smoke and jet fuel out of it. I scrubbed the blood and soot from my skin until it was pink, and then finally decided I should save some hot water for Bucky and dragged myself out of the shower reluctantly.

I wrapped a towel around my body as I wrung out my hair with another one. Upon examining the clothes Bucky had gotten me, I found a pair of black sweatpants and a wool sweater. I pulled on the sweatpants – They were too loose on my hips and a bit long, but I tied the drawstring tight and rolled up the cuffs and they were actually pretty comfy. I picked up the sweater, but then set it back down and opted to pull Bucky’s Henley back on instead.

When I came back out to the kitchen, Bucky was just coming through the door and stomping the snow off his boots, a sled piled high with firewood in tow. When he caught sight of me, the same unreadable look from before was crossing his face, but then he cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asked. My cheeks heated, and I shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“Did I not give you a sweater to wear?”

“Yeah, but this one’s comfy,” I said sheepishly, and Bucky snorted.

“I know it’s comfy, it’s mine.” He shook his head. “I guess you can keep it for now.”

I grinned. “Good, because I didn’t plan on giving it back.”

Bucky let out a chuckle, and then started filling his arms with firewood to stack by the fireplace. I went to help him, but he shook his head. “No, I’ve got it,” he insisted. “You just showered, you don’t need to get dirt and sap all over yourself.”

“Bucky, let me help –”

“You’ll end up pulling your stitches if you do, (Y/N). Trust me, I’ve got it.”

I frowned, but I knew he was right. It didn’t take him long to pile it all, and then he was leaning the sled against the wall and stripping out of his jacket and boots.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” he told me. “The cupboards should be stocked with non-perishables; you should see if you can find us something to eat.”

“Anything in particular you don’t like?” I asked, and Bucky fixed me with an unexpected grin.

“Doll, I survived how many years on army rations,” he chuckled. “I’ll eat just about anything.”

With that, he went to shower and I was left to rummage through the cupboards. I was surprised to see so much – Cans of soup, canned fruits and vegetables, boxes of cereal, pasta, and an array of spices and sauces. I opted for a box of spaghetti and a jar of tomato sauce; it would be warm and filling.

As I filled a pot with water to boil, my stomach growled; with everything that had happened today, I realized that I hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. It wasn’t unusual to go a period of time without a meal on a mission, but after that trek from the quinjet to the cabin I was famished.

Bucky walked into the kitchen just as I was mixing the sauce into the pasta. His wet hair was messy, as if he’d just run his hands through it, and he’d thrown on a plain black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He lifted his nose to sniff the air.

“Smells good,” he remarked. “Spaghetti?”

“Yep.”

“When will it be ready?”

“Now,” I replied, dishing it onto two plates and handing him one. We sat down at the table with our food and a couple of bottles of water I’d found in the fridge, and I couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from my chest. Bucky cocked an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, and I shrugged.

“I don’t know, this just feels so…domestic,” I pointed out. “You making a fire and bringing in more wood, me cooking us dinner, sitting here and eating together…”

“It’s nice,” Bucky murmured. “Everything is always so fast-paced and intense; this is a nice break.”

“Except that our jet was shot down and we’re stranded,” I said wryly, and Bucky shrugged.

“There are worse places to be.” He looked up over a forkful of spaghetti and grinned. “And worse company to be stuck with.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I chuckled, and Bucky nodded as he chewed.

“You should. For instance, if I had been stranded with Sam, I would have buried him under six feet of snow and ice by now.”

I laughed. “Why is it you two are always at each other?” I asked, and Bucky shrugged.

“Sam’s a good guy. He just gets on my nerves easily.”

“Clearly.”

We finished the rest of our dinner in comfortable silence, and then cleared the dishes. Bucky even helped me clean up the kitchen, and then I curled up in the armchair by the fireplace with a thick blanket while Bucky sank into the couch and pulled out his phone.

“I suppose now that we’re settled in, I should let Steve know what happened,” he said. He put the phone on speaker and then set it on the coffee table. It only rang once before Steve answered.

“Hello? Bucky? Is everything alright? Why are you using your cell phone, what’s wrong with your comms?”

“The comms are down, Steve,” Bucky said calmly.

“Down? Why are they down?” he demanded, and Bucky and I shared a look; Steve was going to lose it when he found out our quinjet had been shot down.

“See, that’s the thing,” Bucky said cautiously. “We may have a little problem.”

Steve’s voice was stern now. “Define little.”

“We were on our way to Russia when we were spotted by a HYDRA drone and they shot us out of the sky,” Bucky told him. There was silence on the other line for a split second before Steve erupted.

“What? How did that happen? Are you and (Y/N) alright? Where are you? How long ago did this happen? Why didn’t you call right away?”

“Steve…Steve!” Bucky cried, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing as Steve went full Dad mode, as Sam and I often called it. “I don’t know how they found us,” Bucky continued once Steve had ceased firing concerned questions. “(Y/N) and I are fine, just some cuts and bruises. The quinjet went down in the Allgӓu Alps in Austria, but we walked to a safehouse that was only about an hour away from the crash site. I didn’t call right away because we had to get to safety before HYDRA realized we’d survived, and then we wanted to warm up and patch up our injuries and settle in before we did anything else.”

“So you’re in Austria?” Steve asked.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know we had a safehouse in the mountains in Austria.”

“Natasha knows about it,” Bucky said. “She’ll know how to get here.”

For some reason, this made me frown. I found it strange that the only two people on the team that knew about this safehouse were Bucky and Natasha. Sam used to joke that they were perfect for each other, since they were both ex-assassins with rough pasts and secretive personalities. They had both sworn they weren’t each other’s type, but maybe that wasn’t entirely true. My mind was suddenly filled with the idea that they had been here together before, and for some reason it left a sour taste in my mouth.

“Steve, when can you get us out of here?” I asked.

“Well…I might have some bad news for you guys,” he said, and my brow furrowed.

“What kind of bad news?”

“Nat just gave us the coordinates to the safehouse, and for starters, the closest place we could land a quinjet or even a helicopter is about six miles to the east.”

I sighed. The last thing I wanted was another hike across a snowy mountain, but if it meant I got to go home I could handle it.

“Okay, no biggie. So what’s the problem?”

Steve sighed. “Tony just checked the weather. There’s a big storm coming your way – Supposed to be the biggest blizzard Austria has seen in almost a decade. Even if we left New York right now, we’d never make it to you before the winds picked up. We won’t be able to fly out until the storm has passed, probably in a couple of days. I’m sorry, guys.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. I shook my head. “Steve, no –”

“Two days is fine,” Bucky interrupted as he spoke to Steve. “We’ve got plenty of firewood, and enough food to last probably two weeks. Take your time, Steve, we’re alright here for a few days. Don’t risk your lives when we’re safe where we’re at.”

“Speak for yourself,” I muttered under my breath, but of course Bucky’s supersoldier hearing caught it. A mixture of surprise, confusion and hurt crossed his face.

“Half an hour ago you were content,” he said. “What changed?”

My face heated, because I didn’t have an answer for him that didn’t sound ridiculous. I wasn’t even really sure what my problem was. I shook my head. “Nothing,” I told him, and then louder to Steve I said, “We’ll survive a couple of days, Steve. Be careful, but come as soon as it’s safe.”

“Hang in there,” he replied. “Hopefully the storm won’t last long and we can get you out of there.”

Bucky hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. Things were silent for a few moments, but then he fixed me with an inquiring look.

“What was that about?” he asked. I frowned, feigning confusion.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, (Y/N). Why are you so eager to get out of here?”

“I don’t know, Barnes; maybe after getting shot down out of the sky and trekking through a cold mountain, I just want to get home,” I snapped, a little harsher than I had intended. Bucky pursed his lips.

“Soon enough,” he muttered. “We should get some rest; it’s been a long day. You take the bed; I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I shook my head, suddenly feeling guilty. “Buck, you don’t have to sleep on the couch –”

“There’s only one bed, (Y/N). Just take it. I’ll be fine on the couch; that way I can keep the fire going all night.”

I bit my lip, but there was no use in arguing with him at this point. With a sigh, I unfolded my legs from under me and stood. “Goodnight,” I mumbled, and Bucky grunted a response. Frowning, I made my way down the hall to the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I pulled back the covers and climbed in, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable the mattress was. The exhaustion of the day finally crashed over me, and all the thoughts of Bucky and being stuck in this cabin disappeared when my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep almost immediately.

Of course, my sleep was short-lived. I woke up an hour later, freezing despite still being fully-clothed and curled up under two layers of covers. I tried to pull the blankets tighter to myself and go back to sleep, but it was no use; the chill had already settled itself in me and wasn’t going to let go of me that easily.

With a groan, I forced myself out of the bed, swearing softly when my bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. I padded my way down the hall to the living room to grab the blanket I’d been using earlier, to use as an extra layer of insulation between me and the chilly air.

Bucky was asleep when I walked in. Although it was a fairly big couch, his large frame still managed to make it look small. His head was pillowed on one of the decorative cushions, while the other cushion he held to his chest. His mouth was slightly ajar, soft breaths sounding with every rise and fall of his chest. I realized I had never seen him look so peaceful – so vulnerable and at ease. It almost made him look younger, the lines in his face erased in slumber. The fire, which now burned low in the hearth, left a warm glow across his face, casting shadows where his long lashes dusted his cheekbones, and I couldn’t help but think that he looked heartachingly beautiful like this.

I quickly tore my eyes away. This felt oddly wrong, almost like I was intruding on a private moment. He was only sleeping, but Bucky was such a reserved person that to see him in such a vulnerable state felt intrusive. I grabbed the blanket from the armchair and was just about to head back to the bedroom when Bucky spoke, making me start as the blanket slipped from my hands to the floor.

“Stealing blankets, are you,” he murmured, tone teasing and voice thick with sleep. He had just one eye open, peeking up at me. I wet my lips and shrugged.

“You weren’t using it, and I’m frozen,” I replied. “It’s a lot colder in the bedroom than it is out here, so I figured I’d grab an extra blanket to see if it helped.”

Bucky frowned, fully awake now, and he sat up. “You’re cold?” he asked, and I nodded.

“It’s fine, though. I’m sure the blanket will help.”

“Did you want to sleep by the fire? It’s warm out here,” Bucky insisted. “You can bring some blankets and pillows out here; it’s a pretty comfy couch. I’m warm anyway, so a cool room won’t bother me.”

I shook my head. “Really, it’s okay,” I insisted. “I’m sure I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Bucky murmured, although he looked doubtful. I gave him a small smile before heading back to the bedroom.

Incidentally, the extra blanket didn’t work. I shifted, even curling my body up tightly, but I still couldn’t shake the chill that had settled in my bones. I knew what the quickest and most effective solution would be, but even if I could bring myself to suggest it, there was a good chance it would either make Bucky uncomfortable or he’d laugh in my face.

“Fuck it,” I muttered to myself, throwing off the covers and once again sliding out of bed. I was just about to make my way back to the living room, but when I opened the bedroom door Bucky was already there, hand raised as if ready to knock. He gave me a sheepish look as he lowered it back to his side.

“I heard you tossing and turning,” he explained softly. “You still cold?”

I nodded meekly. “Yeah.”

“Y’know, I was thinking,” Bucky said hesitantly, running a hand through his hair. “Because my body temperature is higher than the average person’s, it kind of acts like a heater. If you want – and you can absolutely say no if you don’t want to, I’ll totally understand – I…I can keep you warm.”

Bucky looked at me cautiously, and it took everything in me not to nod eagerly because this couldn’t have worked out more to my favour. I knew it was hard for him to be open like this, and to let people close; just a handful of months ago, he didn’t even like handshakes. Instead, I wordlessly opened the door wide enough for him to fit through and stepped aside.

Bucky walked into the room, hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets as I crawled back into bed. I arched a brow at him.

“I won’t bite,” I promised teasingly, and the ghost of a grin tugged at his lips as he slid into bed next to me.

I rolled onto my side, and I felt the mattress shift as Bucky got comfortable and pulled the covers up over us. Tentative, he draped his flesh arm over my waist.

“Is this okay?” he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Instinctively, my body scooted backwards closer to his – closer to the warmth he was radiating. “Mmm,” I hummed contentedly as I felt my own body slowly warming. Relaxing, Bucky’s arm tightened around my waist, hugging me tighter to him as my back pressed to his chest.

“Get some sleep, doll,” he murmured. My eyes were already drifting shut, and all I could manage was another hum before I was out.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky reader smut #smut #fluff #bucky barnes #reader insert #mcu #steve rogers #james buchanan barnes #cute

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