#worse when the road is snowy/icy

[lathrine]

i've lived in both boston and seattle

seattle is worse

[sarahisslytherin]

on the kingsroad.

cregan stark x reader

summary: you try not to let your feelings for lord stark show as you travel to king's landing together.

contains: forced proximity, fluff.

a/n: there was only one bed!!

word count: 1.2k

You struggled to keep your heavy eyes open as your mare clopped down the dirt road. You trotted alongside Cregan, whose gaze was now fixed on the inn that grew closer with each passing moment. “Almost there, my Lady.” The young lord of Winterfell addressed you gently. He was as weary as you were, and longed just as much for the warmth of a bed. You tugged feebly on the fur lining your cloak as you neared the inn. It had been a few days on the Kingsroad in the company of Cregan Stark. 

You both had business to attend to down in King’s Landing and the noble lord deemed it necessary that you be accompanied. Though you were merely a lady of his court, you had never been able to deny the part of you that longed for something more than polite manners from Cregan. The look in his icy blue eyes as he strode down the halls of Winterfell had put you in a trance more times than you cared to admit. Equally culpable for this were the stolen glances during feasts, the electricity you felt at his touch when he would help you out of a carriage. These small moments provided you with enough warmth to survive the longest of winters. 

Soon enough, you were at the inn’s doors. Cregan dismounted first before aiding you as you did the same, his strong, leather-covered hands holding your weight as your boots hit the snowy ground. You thanked him for the help as he led the way inside. The innkeeper marveled at the sight of him. Tall, wide, commanding; a young wolf.

“Forgive me, Lord Stark.” the man stuttered. “But there are simply not enough rooms left to accommodate both yourself and the young lady.” At this, Cregan looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze. Something in your expression must have given away that you didn’t mind sharing chambers for the night, because he swiftly turned to the innkeeper and paid for the remaining room.

You tried to suppress the churning feeling in your stomach at the thought of such proximity to Cregan, thankful you could blame the pink hue of your cheeks on the biting northern cold. You followed Cregan up the stairs, the wooden boards creaking under his steps. The hallway was lit by torches, the warm light leading you to your chambers. “After you.” Cregan bowed his head ever so slightly as you stepped into the room, the stone and wooden walls encapsulating the heat from the fireplace. 

“Gods, how I’ve longed for the comfort of a bed.” you chuckled as you shrugged off your furs, leaving you in your gown. You felt Cregan’s heavy gaze as you undid your simple braid and let your hair cascade down your shoulders. “You must know your company has been a great comfort to me, Lord Stark.” you confessed, offering him a sheepish smile as your eyes met his. He too was in the process of removing his cloak, his thinner garments capturing your attention more than could be deemed fitting of a proper young lady. 

“I am glad to hear it. I must admit that when I heard you would be traveling to the capital on your own, I couldn’t help but worry for your safety. I shall stay close to you at King’s Landing as well. It is truly a viper’s nest, no place for an innocent lady.”

“My Lord, you underestimate me.” you smirked as you stood up from your place by the crackling fire. “Surely the vicious men of King’s Landing cannot be much worse than the brutes back home.”

Cregan laughed at that, a good hearty laugh. “Is your opinion of Northmen truly so low?”

You felt heat begin to creep into your face once again. “I- I meant no offense, my Lord. The men I speak of are nothing like you.” You were too nervous to be sure, but you were quite certain it was a look of amusement now on Cregan’s face.

“Are they not? I am a man of the North, born and raised. What could possibly save me from your damning opinion?” he teased, but you sensed he truly wished to hear the answer.

“Well,” you sighed as you fiddled with tendrils of your hair, “They are not nearly as handsome, and not one of them has ever made me laugh the way your jests have. And they are unkind, inhumane. They regard me as no more than an object, something to be enjoyed as one enjoys a feast. But you-” you cut yourself off, looking up to meet Cregan’s gaze. The look in his eyes was soft, hopeful even. 

“But I?” he insisted.

“But you are kind. Not only to me, but to your people. You are a rare man of honor, true honor. A man I feel safe with.” you finally said. If Cregan was moved by your confession he tried his best not to show it, his gaze fixed on the ground as if lost in thought. You decided to make yourself busy with the fur covers on the bed. Cregan stood up to help. 

“My Lady, please have the bed.” he said, his voice scratchy from the cool winter air. “I will arrange my furs on the floor.” Your eyes widened at that, your hand reaching up to clutch your heart incredulously.

“Nonsense, I cannot allow you to sleep on the floor when there is a perfectly fine bed large enough for the two of us!” 

Cregan made an effort to suppress his smile, but it was not enough. “Are you absolutely sure? I only wish for you to be comfortable.” he insisted.

“Certainly.” you assured him, allowing your hand to rest gently on his chest. You tried not to focus on the beat of his heart beneath your icy palm. He wasted no time in taking it in his own hands and bringing it to his lips, the gesture awakening butterflies in your stomach. 

You gently stepped away to your side of the bed, slipping in and doing your best to stay on the edge of the bed. You felt the mattress dip where Cregan did the same on the other end. You ensured you were both back to back with room to spare between you. You tried to drown out the thoughts you were having about the Lord of Winterfell as you drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t until the first rays of dawn began to pour into the chambers that your eyes began to flutter. You were so accustomed to sleeping alone, you didn’t know what to make of the presence you sensed so close to you. Only then did the memories of last night come back to you, and you looked down to your abdomen to find Cregan Stark’s large paw of a hand resting there. You glanced over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of his breath hit the back of your neck. He had pulled you flush against him in his sleep, and it seemed you had done little in protest. The butterflies in your stomach returned as you let your eyes close again and leaned into Lord Stark’s embrace, impatient to continue your journey on the Kingsroad.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @spxllcxstxr @lovemesomevesey @shemisseshome @themissgreen24-blog @siriusement @kindgomzeldaquest @gayfordabae @slayis4ever

[covetyou]

freeze-thaw

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: no outbreak, fluff, smut, fingering, playing in the snow, temperature play, Joel probs has super bad circulation, established relationship but it's their first Christmas together and reader has some relationship insecurites word count: 2.7k summary: With your holiday plans ruined when a freak snow storm blows through town, you spend the fesitve period holed up with your partner, Joel Miller, learning exactly how warm you can keep each other in the snow.

A/N: happy holidays and merry sunday @oogaboogasphincter, from your Pedrostories Secret Santa! I went mostly for a snow, with a sprinkling of established relationship, and a dash of doing cozy things. I don't think I've written any of these things before, so it was a learning experience! I used just about every synonym I know for the word cold too.

snowy dividers by @saradika-graphics follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

Your holiday plans had gone to shit the moment that first flurry fell from the sky. Icy roads, cancelled flights, and downed power lines - Texas infrastructure at its finest - had put a halt to your plans to head back north for the holiday. Joel's holiday plans didn't fair much better, and instead of your first Christmas together being spent apart, you were spending your first Christmas together, well, together.

Then, to make a bad thing worse, the power went out, leaving you stuck in the dark and the cold in your apartment, and together suddenly became very together.

It hadn't been the plan - you still felt so very shiny and new at this, at being with him, and the idea of spending such a significant holiday holed up with him terrified you more than the dark ever did. But still, Joel drove on treacherous roads to come pick you up at 3am, dragging you and the perishable food from your refrigerator back to his place for the holidays. He had a generator, and fuel, and enough space for both of you to be comfortable, he said.

You spent the first day keeping to yourself, tiptoeing around, not wanting to disturb him any more than you were. Then he'd caught you circling around the back of the sofa, so as to not disturb his view of the TV, and his deep laughter stopped you dead in your tracks.

A "the fuck are you doin'" later and your insecurities came tumbling out, quickly quashed by Joel as he made it very well known just how much he wanted you there. That night, it didn't take you long to learn how warm you could keep each other.

The second day was spent bundled together on the sofa, him between your legs or you between his.

On the third, you worked up such a sweat together that you'd walked around his house naked, never more grateful for the generator chugging away in the garage.

Eventually, domesticity took over, and you spent a day wrapped up in each other in different ways. Watching a movie, drinking hot coffee, cooking a meal.

You'd trailed behind Joel into the yard on his way to check the generator that same day, Joel wanting to check it was well fueled, and you wanting an excuse to be out of the house for five minutes.

You kick at the snow, enjoying it for a few moments before it inevitably seeps through your shoes and chills your toes. Reaching down, you fluff it through your fingers, throwing a little into the air just to watch it fall again - as if you hadn't seen enough falling snow this last week. Joel is watches you, his eyes burning into your back and a smile tugging at his lips.

"You get inside, I'll deal with all this."

You stick your tongue out at him, trudging further over the snow to spin in the middle of the yard with your arms flung wide. He's laughing along with you when you stop, disorientated and unsteady on your feet. Looking back to him you stop in your tracks, finally seeing the deep gouges that mar the otherwise pristine white crust covering the ground. Yours and Joel's boots, footprints in the snow. Something about it, your foot steps mingling there together for all to see, wretches open your chest and captivates you.

And so, drawn in as you were by the footprints, you write your initials in the snow. Yours first, and then his, joined together and underlined as fact. You hesitate to carve out a frozen heart - too fearful to freeze something so warm and new and growing in something as rigid and fragile as ice - and turn to Joel again, a smile spreading across your face as you gesture to the letters in the snow -

"Oof."

- and a snowball, aimed perfectly at the back of your head a moment ago collides directly with your face. You cough and splutter, briefly blinded by ice as you swipe your freezing fingers over your face, hearing the creak of Joel's boots on the snow as he approaches you with apologies and laughter spilling from his lips in equal measure.

You glower at him, snow undoubtedly caught in your eyebrows, hiding a laugh of your own.

"Get," he says, turning you by the shoulders and pushing lightly to get you back inside. "I'll handle out here, check on the generator. Get warmed up."

Inside, the warmth almost burns as you peel off your layers and check on the food still baking away in the oven. Holding your hands in front of it like it was an open flame, you warm your fingers and wait for Joel, who comes back a few minutes later, chilled to the bone, stomping the snow from his boots and shaking his head as he shudders with the cold.

"Generator's still lookin' good," he says, slapping his gloves down on the counter. He rubs his hands together, blowing on them in an attempt to warm them up faster. Four days now, and the power was still out thanks to a new downfall of snow overnight.

"Your turn to get warm then," you smile, bending down to peer into the oven. "Dinner won't be long now."

"Sounds great, darlin'."

The bitter bubble of air he brought in with him surrounds you as he pulls you into his arms, nuzzling his frosty nose into your hair, laughing with you as you twitch away from the cold.

You expect him to move to the stove, to warm his hands on the heat of the oven just as you did, but instead he draws his fingertips up your belly, pushing your sweater up. Cold fingers meet the soft warmth of your bare skin and you gasp, gripping his arm.

"Joel! Don't you dare."

It was karmic justice really, given the number of times you'd warmed your feet on him in the night recently. You couldn't help it if the man was like a radiator.

"Got old fingers, baby, cold gets to my bones quick. Lemme warm 'em up, I know just the place."

"Fine," you say, tensing and preparing for the incoming press of his icy hand to your belly.

It doesn't come. Instead he tucks his hand down the front of your leggings, dragging the cold with him and holding you tight with his other arm.

"Joel..."

"What? Friction gets 'em warmer quicker. You don't want me to lose 'em to frostbite, do you?" You can feel him smiling into your hair as you gasp at the cold press of his fingertips to the white heat between your legs.

"No. Wouldn't want you gettin' frostbite."

Joel hums into your hair, breathing you in, just as he starts to rub softly over your clit. The sensation makes your skin prickle, first with warmth, then with cold, then something deliciously inbetween.

A moment later he's already slipping them from you and you twist, raising your eyebrow at him and preparing to call him a tease, only to watch as he slides his fingers into his mouth, slicking his cool digits up with his saliva. He's tucking them back into your leggings with a mocking raised eyebrow of his own, kissing the gasp from your lips as his fingers make cold, wet trails down your warm stomach again. They slip against your clit with ease now, but the wetness only exacerbates the chill of his fingers.

The layers of your panties and leggings can't warm up his hand fast enough, and even as he starts to rub gently at you, doing much more than just warming his fingers, you feel a shiver of cold run through you.

"Friction is b-bullshit," you stutter. "Your fingers are still cold as hell."

"Just think how I feel, they're my fingers."

"My heart bleeds for you, Joel," you retort, leaning your head back onto him.

"If it don't feel good, I can stop."

"... I never said anything about stopping," you sigh, closing your eyes and widening your stance a little so he can reach further down.

Joel doesn't need further prompting, his spit slicked fingers slipping through your folds to dip lower between your legs to swipe at your entrance. It seemed counterintuitive, putting something so cold somewhere so warm, but Joel's fingers sliding with ease through the wetness pooled between your legs was proof enough that it did something.

Small strokes become broader, his cold fingers swiping up and down the seam of you as if to prove friction was all he was after. The heat from your core soon begins to warm his fingers, pulling warmth back into his bones and easing the ache in them with each passing moment. Still, it's slow going, and your arousal seems to grow exponentially quicker than the warmth in his fingers.

When they finally feel warmer, and your soft sighs turn to deeper moans, you arch your back, winding your hips along with the movement of his fingers. The cold was no match for how hot you were starting to feel. You would burn the cold right out of him before he was through.

"Joel-"

You gasp again when he slides a single cool finger down and presses it slowly inside of you. His fingertips may have been warmed by friction, but the length of his digits had not, and they still felt icy cold, making you clench and grip around him. Still, no amount of clenching can hide the wetness dripping out of you as he slides in with ease, slicking his finger up before pushing in with a second. He fucks you with them slowly, restricted by the fabric of your leggings, before pulling your arching back flush to his body. A second later his fingers still inside you, anchoring you down just as his palm presses flat against your mound. Warming you up and then cooling you down again over and over was making your head spin, and while you shudder and shiver in his arms, you know it's not the cold that does it this time.

"How are your hands still so cold," you pant.

"Bad circulation, darlin'," he whispers, and you feel yourself grow wetter still at the low gravelly sound of his voice.

"Should get that seen to."

"Good job I got you in the meantime."

The slow curl of his fingers isn't enough, and you find yourself rocking into his frigid palm, eager for the friction to return to your clit now that his fingers are buried deep inside you.

"Grind on it, darlin', that's it. Warm me up."

He rubs the heel of his palm against your clit in sync with your movements, and before you know it you're holding back twitches and biting your lips to stop moans from spilling too loudly out of you.

"You're gonna make me come, Joel."

"Just warmin' my hands, nothin' else."

You can hear the smile in his voice and feel it against your neck as he nuzzles his cold nose into your cheek.

"I know your game, Miller," you say, before groaning once again, pressing back against him with each rock of your hips, feeling the rapid swelling of his cock against your lower back. It seemed you were warming him in more ways than one as his fingers curled inside you, pushing and dragging against that spongy spot on your front wall that he never failed to find.

"Pussy's like a damn furnace. Who needs the generator, when we got this."

His palm is still cold, but you're starting to sweat, feeling the prickle of it across your scalp as you move, panting into the warm air of Joel's home. He could hold you like this forever, be buried in you like this forever as the world outside turned to ice, and you wouldn't mind.

But you're made painfully aware that this can't last forever as you feel yourself getting closer, pressure building inside you with each buck of your hips.

"Joel."

It's dizzying - his slowly warming palm and fingers, now red hot inside of you as they press and press and press at you in a way that would normally have you boneless if you were lying on his bed. But, standing here in the kitchen, you lock out your knees and hold on, white knuckle gripping the counter with your own still cold hands.

A shudder hits you when his cold face nudges yours again, and you turn your head to meet his lips in a kiss. He pulls the warmth from you there too, his cold nose nudging at yours. Even through your panties and the restricted movement of his hand, you can hear how wet you are, sloshing beneath his palm as you let out a keening moan straight into his mouth.

"S'okay. I got you."

He coaxes it out of you, you can feel it coming, his fingers picking up the pace, making the nudge of his palm just right, for just long enough, to send you skyrocketing in his arms.

It's white hot, sending a shiver down your spine as an orgasm ripples through you, twinkling behind your eyelids before exploding in your core, a muted breathy scream pulling from you with each gasping breath that leaves your mouth. You're falling apart as he holds you together, coming on his fingers and beneath his palm as he grinds it into every rock of your hips. Well practiced hands stop just as you're hitting a point of oversensitivity, cupping and holding onto you gently as you go as limp as you can in his arms, knees locked to keep you upright.

He swallows down each of your moans greedily, until you're left breathing heavy, forehead pressed to his. You feel half asleep, even standing on two feet.

"S'your turn," you mumble, only to be dissmissed by Joel with a promise of "later". You're grateful for it, feeling too sleepy to function all of a sudden, until Joel's voice rumbles through you once more.

"I'd say you make a great handwarmer, darlin'."

Laughter spills out of you, warm and bright, the heat in your cheeks warming his nose as he nuzzles against you once again.

"Only one problem," he murmurs, the cottonwool slowly clearing from your head.

"Mm?"

"Got two hands."

His other hand is still cold, he knows it is, but that doesn't stop him from snaking it up your waist, under your sweater and tickling at your bare stomach. You crumple in on yourself, legs that had held you through orgasm buckling as you twitch and laugh into him, smacking your fists into his sturdy chest.

"Stop, stop! You ass- asshole! J-Joel! Stop it!"

He lets you taste the laugh on his lips, kissing you once more as his cold hand rests against your bare skin.

"C'mon, let's eat."

You end that day as it started, wrapped up together, oblivious to the world outside and warmer than you had any right to be in a snow storm.

By the fifth day, the storm has passed, and by the sixth the power is back on, just in time for the big day. You both barely notice, staying wrapped up and warm together over the holiday.

You return to your apartment in the New Year and, even though the power has been back on for days and the heat has been pumping steadily, the place has never felt so cold.

In the years to come, you'd ask Joel about that week - the first of a New Year, and the first without you after having you around for so long. He'd tell you how cold it felt, how empty his house was without you in it. And when you turn up on his doorstep at the end of that first week, sniffling and crying and telling him you missed him, he'll crumple, telling you he felt exactly the same before drawing you into his arms and pulling you inside.

And then, eventually, in a home that was his and is now yours, you'll be sat in warmth and sunshine - as unexpected to the you of back then as a snowball to the face - watching your combined families meet for a Christmas not turned on its head by a Texan snow storm.

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[vintagestarlight]

Looks Like Snow

Summary: Soap shovels the drive way and you can't help but admire the view

Pairing: John Mactavish x gf!reader

Words: 749

Warnings: fluff, slight suggestive material

A/n: this is a short one! Just wanted to get out another soap fic before the holidays. As always please let me know what you think of it! I've got a few other WIPs I'm working on and going to try to have out before Christmas! Requests are also open for 141 guys so send in anything you want to see or just if you want to chat! Hope you all enjoy! :)

"Because of the accumulated snow, snow plows are unable to clear any roads or driveways and roads remain closed at this time. Citizens are encouraged to stay indoors due to slick and icy conditions" The weatherman continued to report on the snowy conditions. "I can't believe the snowplows are delayed again," you grumbled, changing the channel to a lighthearted Christmas movie. "Our driveway is never gonna get cleared," you said, taking a sip of your hot cocoa. As soon as Soap heard no one was coming to clear the roads and you wanted the driveway cleared, he started pulling on his winter boots.

"Where are you going babe?" You asked from where you were sitting on the couch bundled in countless blankets. "Goin' ta shovel our driveway Bonnie," he replied pulling a beanie over his Mohawk and a simple hoodie. When you asked why he simply said his hen deserves a clear driveway. "But I'm not going anywhere. No one is," you laughed. "Besides it's too cold outside to do anything and really I was just complaining," you added. But Soap wouldn't hear of it. "If my hen wants a clear driveway, a clear driveway she's gonna get," he said, giving you a peck on the cheek and heading toward the garage to get the shovel.

After half an hour of Johnny shoveling the driveway you began to worry because it was so cold out. You knew it was stupid; Johnny had probably been through so much worse on the many missions he's sent out on but you still couldn't help but worry. It was cold and it had only gotten colder since he had been out there. You pushed the covers off and padded to the window where you could see Johnny. He was still going, shoveling the snow a foot at a time. Other than his breath billowing out in clouds you wouldn't even know he was cold. He was steadily clearing the driveway and you couldn't help but admire the view.

The thick muscles in his back stretched over tough sinew underneath the tight hoodie with every toss of the shovel. His biceps bulged under the sleeves and you bit your lip. It was no secret that John was an attractive man; you noticed the stares in public and the flirting in grocery stores. You weren't insecure by any means; in fact you found it comical that they made every effort to convince John to "give them a call". Johnny always rejected them; politely of course. Besides, you were the one he came home to.

You brought your mind back to the scene in front of you. Johnny was the greatest boyfriend you could ask for. I mean, who else would go out into the freezing cold to shovel a driveway for no other reason than you wanted it done? You truly hit the jackpot with Johnny. You saw Johnny stop and wipe his brow; you couldn't believe he was sweating considering how cold it was. You walked over to the kitchen and got a thermos out of the cabinet. You poured some of the hot chocolate into the insulated tumbler and screwed the lid on.

You made sure you were bundled tightly before opening the front door. Your feet crunched on the snow-ice mixture covering the ground as you made your way to your boyfriend. "What're you doin' out here Bonnie?" Johnny said, looking up when he saw you making your way through the snow. "I thought you could use this," you said, handing the thermos over. "You're too good to me," he said, giving you a kiss before taking the thermos and unscrewing the lid. "You're the one out here working," you replied. "It's freezing out here. I can't believe you came out here to do this just for me," you said, looking down at the now clear driveway.

"You're worth freezing for bonnie," he said, setting the thermos down and wrapping his arms around you. He slipped his hands underneath your coat and you squealed at the harsh temperature of his hands against your still warm skin. He pulled you closer to him, your bodies pressed together. "You know I can think of plenty of ways to warm you up," you whispered against his neck and he groaned. "You cannae tease me like that woman," he said, pulling you closer as if you weren't pressed together already. "Who said I was teasing?" You asked, looking up at him. You could tell by the looks in his eyes that it was going to be a long night for you.

[writingfics-passingtime]

Omg the mixtape requests!! I love the idea!!

The song: like a tattoo by Sade with Bucky Barnes! Specially from the min 1:35 to 2:03 I think you’ll love it x fem reader

The Scar of Age

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Like a Tattoo

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (romantic, no pronouns used)

Word Count: ~2350

CW: Talking about death and killing, reader has killed people on a mission, kissing, allusions to rough kissing/six (consensual), overwhelmed response that could be interpreted as a panic attack (but isn’t intended to be one)

Note: Thank you for your beautiful request, anon !! (I wrote this for a female reader and then realised no pronouns/gendered descriptions were used, so have tagged it accordingly) When I heard this song the image I instantly had was riding a motorbike through a snowy mountain road, and what was supposed to be a steamy little safe-house number turned into something a little more heavy. I was so inspired by the lyrics of this song, thank you for sharing 💜

The war is still raging inside of me // I still feel the chill // as I reveal my shame to you // I wear it like a tattoo

It’s been growing for months. This budding, rising magnetism alive between you and him. Still unspoken, still untouched, now unfettered.

It started not long after he returned from Wakanda. The attraction was instant, the pull soon became hard to resist but, by the gods, you resisted it with all you had. You kept a respectful and professional distance where possible. He’d been through a lot.

But the breathing room has seen it grow beyond control and now, for the first time in forever, you and Bucky are going to be truly alone.

The frostbitten air bites at your leathers as you snake up the icy switchbacks, giving and taking on the throttle, gently guiding the electric motorcycle through the snowy mountain roads towards somewhere out of the way. To the solitude you had been gifted.

He's sitting behind you, and though he’s an anchor of his own his hands are on your waist. It distracts you more than once and you're sure he knows it because he firms his touch when the bike slows from your wayward thoughts. If he dared to broach the subject, you'd blame the ice on the road. Or would you?

The night had been long and rough. Snowcapped mountains begin to glow as you ride to one of Stark's more isolated houses. The beauty of the new day only makes you feel worse after the events of the night; three enemy guards, dead by your hand.

They will never see another sunrise.

Sure, you had an important job to do to keep the public safe, and sure, they were trying to kill you, but damned you'd be if every life ended by your hand didn't eat away at you.

The dirt feeling that gnaws at your gut is your only place of solace because it still hurts. If it ever stopped hurting, you'd walk away for good. Steve promised to help you disappear if that day comes.

Steve. A wry smile threatens to burst under the helmet as you finally see the house in the distance. Steve is the one who rostered this assignment, knowing where it was, knowing the airspace would be tightly monitored the days after your mission, knowing whoever was assigned to it would need to be under the radar until extraction would be less risky. A few nights at least.

He had arranged all of this in front of a room full of highly-perceptive people. No jibing comments were thrown from the other seats, which was so unusual that awkwardness rushed into the void. The panic of perception started to sink in your bones but when you met Bucky’s eye, you stilled. You ceased to wish the ground would swallow you whole the moment his usually stony glare was soft, almost apologetic, as if he was afraid you’d think he’d done this to get you alone. You didn’t smile, hyperaware of the eyes all around, but the look you returned to him seemed to smooth his frayed edges.

Now, there are no prying eyes. Your quickening heartbeat becomes the score of your final stretch towards this unusual hollow of privacy. The house comes more into view. It’s at the end of a straight stretch of road. You tilt your wrist and roll the throttle. As the bike picks up speed, Bucky’s hands slide from your waist down to rest at your hips. It makes your toes curl inside your boots, and you have to hone your focus on the house you’re fast approaching.

The sharp and grey abode look harsh yet at home nestled into the snow-covered bedrock, and the unforgiving structure looks strange bathed in warm pink sunlight. It’s one of those boxy houses made of cool concrete and glass that looks as if it should always be shrouded in cloud cover, but the windows are alive with the rising sun and it pulls a sad smile to your lips.

You ease the bike to a stop when you reach the gate. Both yours and Bucky’s right feet meet the ground to hold the bike as you punch the code into the gate, which opens along with a hidden garage door beneath the house towards which you slip through the fenced doors and quickly guide the bike down a ramp.

The lights gradually flick on as you slow the bike to its final stop next to a few others. You dismount with haste and pull your helmet and gloves off, blowing hot air on your fingers as you rub your hands together. Bucky swings his leg off the bike and removes his own helmet. Strands of his chestnut hair come loose from the knot at the nape of his neck, striking something real and imperfect against his cold-flushed cheekbones. You steal only a quick glance at his rugged tired eyes before he nods his chin towards a staircase that goes up. “Go warm up. I’ll unload.” All you can do is nod, thankful that you can skip off to find a hot shower. The cold is turning painful and the house, though industrial and cavernous, is already pleasantly warm. It isn’t ridiculously large though, and it doesn’t take you long to find a bedroom.

Earlier on in your career, the preparedness of these houses used to haunt you. Somehow, they always had fresh clothes in your size ready and waiting in the wardrobes. Now, you’re desensitised to it all. It’s just another part of the job.

The hot spray is soon welcoming you to your place of rest, easing that chill that had set into your bones, reminding you that you are now safe. Alone. Your pulse drops to your stomach, you breathe through it, and hope you’re not emanating something less savoury than contentment at being here alone with Bucky.

You’re soon dressed and in an industrial-styled kitchen that overlooks a sprawling, picturesque landscape. The floor is warm beneath your socked feet, a feature of the house, and the fridge is stocked for you to begin preparing some food to tame snarling stomachs. Somewhere in your field of sound, the spray of another showed subsides. That pulse picks up again and you focus on cracking some eggs into a white ceramic bowl.

Bucky needs a lot of food, that much is obvious, with the super serum cranking his metabolism, and a lot of protein at that. You’d just finished off breaking the last of the dozen eggs into the bowl when your companion enters the kitchen without a word.

You look up at him, because it would be weird not to, and give a brief, tight smile before opening a drawer in search of a whisk. His brief and welcome hand meets the small of your back as he passes behind you, making his way to start cutting the vegetables you put on the bench. It sends a surge of abashment through your nerves. You curl your toes against the smooth, strangely warm floor.

“I don’t mind cooking.” Your fingers close around a whisk and you close the drawer with your hip.

His head turns in your peripherals so you meet his eye. His stare is soft, framed by the drag of a sleepless night, but not by a hopelessness they once held. He shrugs with one shoulder and almost smiles. “It’s nice to do something normal.” He turns back to the counter and picks up a mushroom, and your eyes roam over him.

The African sun had been kind to him, tinting his skin with pinprick freckles and a tan that had almost faded. His hair holds the summer too. He keeps it pulled back but the shorter pieces frame his face and are laced with tiny threads of gold and the beginnings of grey. You can see the hues even through the post-shower dampness clinging to his waves. The colours are beautiful, you think, because they're signs of life lived after the stolen decades. Of all the scars, age is the only one he deserves. Maybe if you were a different person in a different life, you would've said it out loud. Romanticism doesn't seem to befit you. It feels too soft and too good.

He speaks again as soon as you turn back to the bowl.

“I should’ve got to them first,” he sniffs back the cold. “The guards.”

Your twirl your wrist to beat the eggs and keep your tone level. “I handled it just fine.”

“Yeah, well… I can see-” He lets a breath out and collects his thoughts. “I know y’don’t like it.”

You release your own deep breath through your nose, whisk stilling in your hand. “No one likes it, but it’s part of the job.”

He puts the knife down and turns his head towards you again. “I’m just saying… I can-”

“I don’t want you to do that for me, Bucky.”

Your voice is measured and the whisk doesn’t stop. You smooth a hand against side of the bowl and stare into the milky yellow mixture as it spins and spins and spins. He spent too long taking lives because other people couldn’t do their own dirty work.

“It’s not fair to you.” You sighed once, quickly, almost in a huff, before slowing the whisk again and correcting yourself. “It’s not fair to either of us, but that’s the way the world works.” Indecisive, you put down the utensil and turn your head towards him, shifting your eyes to his chopping board. His body heat skims your left arm. “I don’t want you to protect me from what has to be done. I don’t want you to see me as-”

The words die at your lips and Bucky’s head tilts. “As what?” He prompts in a gentle nudge. His hands are against the counter.

You close your eyes and smile involuntarily, so you force out a dry laugh to cover it up with a shake of your head. Every bit of air in your lungs is screaming out for him to come closer, to rid you of this mounting feeling inside, to break through this barrier of professionalism and fear that you wouldn’t be good for him.

“As one of them,” you can’t meet his eye. “As someone you have to kill for.”

You refused to be the reason he took a life. You weren’t going to do that to him.

You’d be no better than HYDRA.

He responds with something pained, something just above a whisper. “You know how I see you.” It’s not a question, nor an answer. It’s pure honesty simmering just below the horizon.

A strand of his hair is the first thing you feel as he draws closer. It ghosts along your cheekbone and catches the breath in your throat, only for a second though. Your eyes flit upwards, your chin lifts and turns ever so slightly towards him. You soften, to say yes. To say please. And it's all he needs.

His kiss is the opposite of what you expected. It's warm, and gentle.

It's a passion like you've never known.

There's this expectation, with passion, that the intensity should feel like a bolt of lighting or a supernova. Tension builds and builds and it's supposed to break. And sure, it's breaks, but so does the day over the darkness.

If the sun can pour dawn over the horizon, giving a gentle wake to the earth with rosy hues and still remain as powerful, who's to say something as good and inevitable surging through you at the speed of light has to explode. Why couldn't it fill you to the brim and stay full, keeping you bathed in a vivid sunrise.

Everything about him has been severe and guarded, until now. For the first time, while feeling the tenderness of his kiss, you consider that he hadn't built his walls so high because he wanted to keep others out but to keep himself in. You take note that his open palms are still on the counter. His hands were used for so much destruction, perhaps he didn't feel right putting them on you.

Your younger self would have resented his restraint. You would've goaded, chastised, pushed him away until he could meet you with a power you deserved. Why shouldn't he? You can take it; the fingertips sinking into you skin, storm-coloured bruises levied from fun, the gentle ache that pulses through your back from being pinned rough against a wall.

But you’re tired. Exhausted, even. Drained from tensing and flexing and always having to show every ounce of strength. Always a solider, silent and stoic. Always with a job to do. But maybe here, you were just a person.

He pulls away after several moments, still close enough for his breath to graze your lips. You don't look for his eyes because you know he won't meet you there. His tongue peaks out for half a second and he releases a breath before he lifts his head. The gentle warmth of his kiss lingers and emanates.

There's something inside you clawing to get out. A confession, maybe, or a sigh of relief. Or a declaration that you don’t deserve anything as good as what just happened. Whatever it is, it cuts through the air in a haggard little breath.

Sleep deprivation hangs like a thick chain around your neck, your hands are still numb with the lives you ended, you’re filled with an overwhelming warmth that you don’t feel worthy of. It all hits. Every fibre of you aches with the impact.

Bucky turns to steady you before you slouch against the counter.

Maybe he didn’t have to kill for you to make you feel okay. Because more than you could ever know, he gets it. He’s felt it, lived and bled it. All the shame and fleeting doses of heroism that make it all seem justified.

He holds you close. You bury your face in his shoulder with breath heavy and conflicted. His fingers curl against the base of your neck and his arm tightens around your waist, his sure breath is hot above your ear, his heartbeat loud in his chest.

His body say it so his words don’t have to:

I know.

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Coco

Published: Nov 15 2019

Black Reader x dark Bucky Barnes

divider by benkeibear

You were driving. Hands gripping the wheel at 10 and 2, and praying that the highway workers were doing their job this early in the morning, you concentrated on the road. The snow was coming down in thick marshmallowy sheets driving your concern high through the shoddy roof of your car, over the downy icy clouds and into the Mississippi stratosphere.

You hit a black slick patch, and the aftermath wiggled the ass of your small car shaking the boxes in the back seat. Small rattling, nothing much to be worried about so you keep your eyes on the white, not so well-traveled, high way and unclenched your hands a bit.

You wished you were back in New York. That perhaps if Tony Stark had not have died that your job would still be available. And not here, in the middle of god knows where on your way to Texas for an opening. You cursed Pepper’s name and glanced to the ditch to your right, where a deer stood emerging from drooping snowy trees raising its head as you drove by.

And here you were, dark eyes straining against your tiredness at patches of black asphalt, your brown skin feeling tight from lack of moisture in the snap of cold.

But you go where there was work. And so you did, do.

“Consolidation my ass,” you mumbled under your breath and turned the radio down.

The droning carols began to get on your nerves as much as the snow. You glanced at your phone propped up on the dash showed you the next stop is a diner.

The food sounded great. Hot coffee was even better so you set your sights on that.

It was 2 AM when you pulled in to the dark parking lot of the diner. A barely lit neon purple sign flashed around the name Pancake Haven in yellow. You don’t think of why or when you step foot in the diner. You just know that you made it in and sat down at a booth near the window with your hands clasped on the pine tree green tabletop.

You were very aware that the money you had, a mere one hundred, had to last until Texas so you picked out the least expensive and concentrate on the free coffee and water.

In the City, money would not have concerned you but not here, not out in the middle of nowhere. And not when there was little to no traffic on the roads, maybe you would need cash to get towed or worse a ride.

You ordered a special for 5.99 and waited. You looked over the map on your phone and then started to check your messages when you saw flashes outside of the window.

It was another car. All black, it was nice. Almost too clean for what was going on outside.

A man stepped out from the driver’s side. A bulky black man in a red jacket, slim in the waist with thick legs. He was handsome. And then another stepped out in a black leather jacket, he slammed the door to the passenger side while yelling and pointing at the other. They looked to be arguing with each other. He was white with short dark brown hair, sullen eyes, and a sharp jaw. He was just as muscular as the other man but noticeably rigid as he walked, swinging his arms at his sides as he walked ahead of the man in the red jacket.

Your eyes followed them until they disappeared up the stairs to the diner. The door chimed as the man in the black jacket walked in he immediately landed his eyes on you. Your eyes automatically shifted to the waitress bringing your food and a coffee refill.

From your peripheral, you could see the man in the red jacket look at you too. The man in the black jacket walked towards your direction, out of the small area they chose to sit caddy-corner to your table. Even as you began to eat you could feel the man in the black jacket stare at you while he addressed the waitress.

Sure it was off putting, maybe even strange. But you didn’t think too much of it at first. Just strangers acknowledging each other. And soon you all but forgot about them as you ate and stared out the window.

Their voices cut through your thoughts. They spoke loudly about an office party. Recanting a story of a woman who drank too much and had to be escorted back to her office. They seemed to be friends. The man in the black jacket’s voice was light, his laugh lofty and airy like it had to gain strength before it came out of his mouth.

You swallowed down the last bite of a pancake, strangely it stuck in your throat, tasted salty too but the sensation quickly passed. With a quick drink from your water, you see movement near their table. It was the man in the black jacket, you turned toward him as he walked toward your table with two mugs in hand. He was wearing black gloves, you hadn’t noticed that before, when he set one of the mugs down in front of you.  

“Hi. It’s pretty cold outside. You look to be traveling. How ‘bout a cup of coco before you go?” he asked and took a small sip of his.

“Thanks, but my mother told me never to accept drinks from strangers.” You tried to speak kindly though, maybe even mildly sarcastic, but it only came out harsh.

The man nodded, not in the slightest put off by your tone, he smiled vaguely in a way that only moved one corner of his mouth.

“Come’on it’s Christmas and it’s only a cup of hot coco.” He asked again but this time picked up the mug by the lip and moved it closer to you.

You had forgotten that it was Christmas as you stared at the steam rising above the silky chocolate.  You didn’t have a family, only one friend back in the city so you hadn’t thought about the holiday before now.

Your eyes turned back up to the man standing near your table. “Sure.” You said, begrudgingly and grabbed up the warm cup.

And then the man surprised you by slipping into the booth across from you and began to sip on his coco.

“What are you doing?” you asked and put your cup down.

“Oh, you didn’t want me to join you?” he asked and clutched his cup and stared at you.

“No.”

“I figured you needed the company.” He said softly and then picked up the cup once again.

Panic of the unknown man and the fact you were alone began to cripple your well-constructed faith in your personal safety. “Why would you think that? You don’t know me.”

Your eyes roamed over the face of the man, who was impossible to truly ignore with his pointed blue-eyed gaze and lightly masked sex appeal. “Sure I do.” He said as he smacked his lips after another sip.

Your eyes darted to the back of the man with the red jacket, he wasn’t moving much, just eating. Not that you hoped he would help, though you wished he would have. Fearfully, your focus returned to the man who sat across from you.

“I don’t know you.” You said and grabbed for your purse, you pulled out your wallet tossed a twenty on the table as you gathered your coat.

“You work for Stark Enterprises.”

You stopped and looked back at him. “How-how do you know that?” you hissed, half-whispered as you held your purse closer to your chest.

“Because you’re dreaming.” He said and leaned in with a sinister whisper. “I’m part of you.”

Were you safe? The thought stumbled through your mind, tracing over the path that brought you to the diner, to the moment you sat down that you could not remember clearly. But even so, the man sitting across from you with his jaunty half-smile seemed far worse than the idea of this meeting being all in your mind.

Shockingly, beyond the booth, the diner blurred out of focus leaving you sick to your stomach. It was as if his words were the trigger that you suddenly feel so tired you could barely hold your eyes open. Your gaze dropped to the cup, a dark outline of chocolate dried and flaky where your lips had been became the sudden focus of your concern.

“No.” You could barely speak. Your lips merely appeared to move but your voice, muffled and stagnant, came from your chest. “This isn’t a dream. I’m going to Texas for a new job.”

“Baby you’re dreaming. I should know.”

With all your will and might as the conscious being, you knew yourself to be, you pulled your eyes from the mug back to him.

“Or I wouldn’t be able to do this-“ The man in the black jacket raised his hand. Your eyes followed his motions as he pressed a metal hand on the green tabletop pushing it all the way through without further resistance.

When you looked back at him you were standing. The diner was gone you were in a bedroom you slightly remembered. It was cozy, a few of your things decorated the shelves and the man, who wore the black jacket was standing in front of you. He no longer appeared well put together. His charcoal stubble face was sweaty, pink flushing the tops of his cheeks, his electric blue eyes pinned where you stood.

You wanted to run.

You tried to move. Heavy arms jerked at your sides, but you couldn’t manage much more to get away from him.

Your voice was strained under a force beyond your body laboring your breaths.

“Bucky?” You tried to speak but it only came out in a pained whisper. “You’re Bucky…”

You were still standing there, in this unknown room staring at a man with vague certainty. You knew him; he was too familiar to your mind, to your body. You didn’t understand at first. This odd sensation of being filled from within.

You held your stomach, sweat dripped slid from your nose and down to the corner of your mouth. No, those were tears. The man smiled, his eyes slid down your face to your body and you could feel him inside. Along with the rocking of it, the in and out, a weight settled on your chest and a need between your legs.

“That’s right baby…I’m your Bucky.” He whispered and took a step closer.

His image faded, with darkness cracking the vision of his smile, it split open to a blurry view of your office window. Through the blinds, snow fell, the distant chime of Christmas songs lingered in your ears along with heavy breathes falling on your cheek.

Your arms lay crooked, one above your head wedged into the crease of the black leather couch, the other, your knuckles, brushed against the cold wood floor in a rhythmic sway.

The weight shifted, the tops of your knees pressed against your chest, there was a slapping sound carried on the wave of a growl of his grunting. You felt him, warm hips and girth pounding into your slippery cunt.

You lazily blink through the feeling. Unable to react or to retaliate against the acts to your body, you stared into the jagged shadows of your office. Cast from a glow through a crack at the door you can only see what he lets you. You recognized your desk, the turned over chair on the floor, your festive emerald blouse near, rumpled and torn. You struggled to turn your head to see where the source of the warm on top of you is coming from. The memory was fuzzy, your heart pounded with enthralled terror as to how you ended up on your back.

“Oh baby, you’re my best girl aren’t you?” He whispered, and you felt his hands release your thighs. They are all over you, rushed and mishandling your skin leaving bruises around your jaw, your neck until he gripped your breasts and held on to your warm skin as he drove himself harder into your core.

He left your head facing up. Your eyes barely open stared blankly up at him.

He was undeniably beautiful, sweeping shadows along with his high cheekbones, pouty lips parted his tongue darting out along the rim. Bucky Barnes, his blue eyes now black in the dark gazed back in exquisite longing with your near sleeping face reflected back at you. It felt passionate, his desperate thrusting, but dirty and taboo you weren’t fully awake but your body automatically clenched around him despite your silent pleads.

“That’s it, baby,” he chanted over and over again his grasp on your breasts slipped to your forearms pining as if you were fighting back. “God, I’ve been dreaming of this moment. Can’t-“ he tried to speak more, his ragged breaths caught in his throat, slight moans airy like his laughter stopped when he continued.

“Can’t believe I’m inside of you now…so warm baby. So wet.”

Your breath scrapped along your throat with your orgasm. You only managed a blink in a reaction as you watched him close his eyes and savored the waves around him. He couldn’t hold his after that. After your compelling ability to cum regardless of not being completely conscious he let it go. Felt himself empty inside of you without regard to the mess to follow.

He pulled out of you and laid your legs together back on the couch before he stood. Your eyes stuck to the insides of your sockets, you could hear the sound of them moving as you followed him. Bucky looked down at you as he zipped his pants.

That beautiful pale face stared down at you. Sweat clung to his temple as he swept his hands over his face and into his short brown hair. You should have known. That the man with the welcoming smile, the studious charming banter, the one person you trusted would have been the end of you.

"I’ll be back in an hour baby.” He said and knelt near your head. “You’ll come to then and I’ll be here to help.”

He kissed you on the mouth, his tongue slick along your teeth took more than you could give. “I’ll check on you.”

He stood and straightened his white shirt. He moved to walk away, your eyes were still on him when he turned back to you from the door. His metal hand gleamed in the yellow glow of the multi-colored Christmas lights in the hall. Bucky’s face was flooded in the warm and intermittent flashing as he stared back at you. With a carrying disposition, he regarded your almost lifeless form on the couch with a satisfied sigh.

He smiled and if you could have shivered you certainly would have done so. It was just a slight grin at the corner of his lips while he shyly looked to the floor and then back to you.

“Merry Christmas, baby doll.”

--- spoiler: unreliable reader

[rat-typewriter]

HATING WEDDINGS - DABI X READER

SUMMARY: just hours before you’re due to marry a man you don’t love, Dabi comes to change your mind.

Warnings: Swearing ig?? if that’s a warning lol

Proofread?: Not for even one second 😌

You sat, staring at your reflection - the stylist nervously tried to meet your eyes in the mirror. It was the third hairstyle she had tried in two hours. 

“It’s nice.” You said, attempting to mask the disappointment in your voice - but judging by the way your soon-to-be mother-in-law rolled her eyes and huffed, you were still a bad liar. 

Over the year that you had known the woman, the only thing you seemed to have in common was a mutual dislike for one another. You were not the sort of bride she wanted for her son - but this wasn’t about love or fairy-tales or happy endings. It was strictly business. 

Quirk marriages were much more common than most people would’ve liked to believe; they paid well too. You’d been found by the guy’s father - an owner of a wealthy construction company - who knew your quirk would be an invaluable asset to their business. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, but at least money would never be an issue for you again.

Your mother-in-law had pulled the hairstylist into the doorway - as if standing a few feet away suddenly made you incapable of hearing their hushed voices. Your legs seemed to be buzzing with adrenaline that only seemed to be getting worse as the ceremony drew closer and your head was starting to feel slightly too light for the rest of your body - as if it was fading into a puff of smoke. 

Just as you began to half-heartedly wonder if you might be about to vomit: your phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number flashed up on your screen.

Last chance.

Quickly, you swiped the message away - averting your gaze, instead focusing on the colours of nail polish picked out for you. You had no idea that there could be so many shades of white: eggshell, cream, ivory, pearl, snow, chiffon, porcelain-

Now or never.

You stared at the text, your legs becoming more restless than ever. Now or never had become an almost-inside joke between the two of you - a secret reference to the first time you met that you both dropped into as many conversations as you could. Now or never summed up everything about the two of you.

—

You stumbled through the snowy alleyway, still reeling from excitement - and smoke inhalation. Your whole life you’d wanted to do that. To burn something. Not to light people’s cigarettes or warm their cold hands or melt their icy car doors. To burn something. 

Despite your blackened clothes and singed hair, the cold was starting to numb your fingers. The night air was freezing; turning your breath to fog in the dark. Your flimsy canvas shoes had long been soaked-through by the wintry slush that covered the streets - you hoped it wasn’t far. 

You hoped this place was even real. 

You reached a metal door - dented and dimly lit by a flickery yellow bulb - and knocked. Do you knock at a villain’s hideout? You wondered to yourself, beginning to feel nervous. Everything you knew about this place had come from whispers on shady streets or out the back of bars. 

Pulling you from your thoughts, the door swung open - the metal groaning as its hinges scraped together.

You couldn’t quite see the person who had opened the door, as they stood a few feet back - hidden by the darkness - but his voice was low and raspy when he spoke.

“Coming in?” 

You stood, staring into the black - your legs suddenly made of lead, but your chest alive with electricity. 

Another moment passed, the quiet filled by your soft breath turning to fog. A van rumbled past on the road and you caught yourself glancing back, watching as it rolled by. 

“Now or never.” He said and you turned back to face him. 

“Better be now then.” You said hoarsely - your throat burning as you spoke. 

The stranger stepped back and a yellowy strip of light crossed his face, illuminating his features. His skin was littered with scars you recognised as burns - something you had become familiar with, over the years of being unable to control your fire quirk - but beneath them he was young, no older than you.

His eyes crinkled slightly and he grinned - which suddenly sent sparks of fear and excitement through your chest again.

“Come on in then, sparky.” 

—

It was the fifth time that your phone buzzed - two minutes before the ceremony was to begin - that you gave in. 

You suddenly jumped out of your seat, the bridesmaid (who you barely even knew) and had been fixing your hair stumbled back.

“I- Uh,” you stammered as the other bridesmaids turned to stare at you. “I’m going to the toilet.” 

And you took off. 

You stumbled out of the door and down the hallway in shoes that were horrendously uncomfortable. You took a left, then a right, then a left again - until you found an open window. 

Without thinking, you forced the window as wide as it would go and shimmied through - tumbling out and into a bush.

As you attempted to pull yourself out and untangle your clothes - which had caught in the branches - you heard a familiar laugh. 

“Wow. Bit desperate to leave are we?” 

You whipped around, finding yourself face-to-face with Dabi. 

“Didn’t think you missed me that much,”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out and your brain was suddenly empty. Butterflies erupted in your stomach - the boy who you hadn’t seen in over a year was still able to make you nervous.

He grinned - oh how you’d missed that - and laughed again. “You look gorgeous, Doll.”

“Thanks,” you breathed - a little lightheaded. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He stepped forwards - rolling his eyes; offering a hand to pull you out of the bush. “Oh, how you flatter me,”

Accepting the hand, you let him heave you out of the bush - pulling you far closer than necessary. You stood practically against his chest, having to crane your neck slightly to look him in the eyes. 

You swallowed and felt your face grow hot. 

God he knew just how to make you feel sixteen all over again.

"I've missed you." You breathed.

He smiled - with only a hint of his usual smugness. "I've missed you too, Sweetheart,"

His hand found its way to your waist and he bent down, quickly kissing you. It wasn't long or passionate or hot. Just a regular, discrete peck on the lips.

But God did it make you fall in love all over again.

The sound of voices suddenly echoed around the corner and Dabi glanced around. He took a step back and turned to you with that slightly-terrifying, but oh-so-exhilarating grin.

“What do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He extended his hand to you, faking a courteous bow and in return you grinned and curtseyed. Giggling slightly, you put your hand in his and he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles - winking up at you.

"Dabi Todoroki I never knew you were such a gentleman!" 

"If you ever tell anyone, I'll have to kill you" 

For a moment, his tone is so serious that you almost believe him - but then he smiles and tugs on your hand.

"C'mon, I hate weddings." 

"Me too." You giggled.

With your hand in his, you both took off running.

[gingergorli]

The Rabbit pt. 1

Cw: light blood, mention of sexual harassment/SA (not detailed)

He looked me in the eyes and tilted my chin up gently, his boot resting on my chest. It stung. I scraped my chin when I ran, and when I proceeded to fall just as quickly in the icy, frozen over snow. It’s hard to run when you’ve nearly been beaten to death just days prior.

In his gaze I had once found who I wanted to be. He was my inspiration, one of those people who practically did everything. He painted, sculpted, wrote, ran campaigns, traveled the world, and knew several languages. What young person doesn’t desire great things?

He dropped my head and it lulled back, my eyes never left his. What once was so full of life and love and promises now were cold and dull. I realized that all that joy i had once seen was simply my younger self’s reflection gazing back at me, and now?

She was nowhere to be found.

————————————————————————

“There’s so much suffering in the world.”

The rabbit lay dead on the side of the road. She and her friend looked at it longingly.

“Yeah. What do you think your mom is cooking for dinner?” Her friend replied, continuing to walk on without her. “I hope it’s roast. My mom never cooks.”

She sighed and shook her head, jogging to catch back up with her friend.

“I think it might actually be rabbit.”

“Ew! You’re not funny!” Her friend shrieked, shoving her playfully, laughing.

They got back to her moms house and shook off their snowy shoes in the laundry room before removing their outer layers, leaving them strewn haphazardly on the floor as they went up to her room.

“Sooo graduation is right around the corner… what do YOU think of that?” her friend asked, pulling out her laptop.

What did she think of that? She barely knew how to cook ramen from a pack and her family was middle class and didn’t qualify for financial aid, so college was practically out of the question. What did that leave her with really?

Trade school? She was 5’3”, 18, and barely 130 lbs, and trades were rarely kind to women. Her dad told her about how his old bosses used to refuse to hire women because they didn’t want to have to deal with the sexual harassment she would inevitably file when his men said something sexist to her, or worse, did something.

Community college? The military? Teen pregnancy and some really well crafted mugwort tea to fix that problem? What a life. At this point she would rather consider integral calculus than graduation. Lucky for her that was what the 10 pound book in her bag would allow her to think about all night.

She sighed. “Don’t remind me. I don’t want to stay but… I don’t know. I just feel so lost.” They sat in silence for a few seconds before she returned the question. “You?”

“I’m excited!” Her friend smiled. “I’m so glad we get to wash our hands of this hell hole. We payed our dues… but of course I already have a plan lined up. I’m going to study abroad in France.”

Her friend beamed at her and she realized, as she sometimes did, how young they still were. Her friend didn’t know how to speak a lick of French, but she was 18. She was invincible. She was ready to conquer everything and solve anything. Why couldn’t she be like that? So free and unbothered. It must be nice. Maybe she had seasonal depression or something.

“Im really happy for you,” she smiled softly. And she was. “You’re going to do great things Lucy.”

They did their homework, ate the roast (not rabbit) that her mom made at the family dinner table, and said goodbye around 9 pm.

When you see the light in others it seems so obvious that anyone could see it. It could light up a forest, or the dark road with no sidewalk your childhood best friend lived on since she was 5.

It’s funny how one driver, one crash, and one moonless night can prove how wrong you are all in one go.

When they found Lucy, she was frozen on the side of the road next to a rabbit.

And the morning was as dark as ever.

[ledenews]

Travel Caution Stressed During Snowy Holiday Weekend

Well, folks, it looks like you’re getting your white Christmas after all. But it’s coming with a side order of freezing winds and a whole lot of potentially hazardous driving. Road crews and governmental entities are and have been in full-on planning mode this week in anticipation of the winter storm that is impending and, by all predicted accounts, should begin sometime early Friday morning and continue into the weekend. This is the Upper Ohio Valley, after all, so snowstorms and taking precautions are nothing new, but what has officials worried is the type of conditions this particular storm shall bring. In particular, it’s the expected rapid snap freeze that is causing the most headaches throughout the tri-state region. “Our foreman has been drafting a plan for Friday, because of the rain that’s coming Thursday night it will start turning colder at 4 a.m. and, within a few hours, it’ll go from the 40s down into the teens, if not single digits,” said Richland Township Trustee Rick Farrell. “We’ll have a freeze, and then snow, and with the rapid decrease, it’s going to make it difficult for us to salt.” The main problem will be the rapid temperature decline predicted for East Ohio and the Northern Panhandle. Salt by itself works well to help with snowy conditions, but only to a point. Once it dips down into the single digits, salt alone is ineffective at best. Colder conditions require the use of a salt, grit, and sand mixture. Richland Township alone has 95 miles of roadway to clear. That mixture will help once most areas once the temperature drops, but not all. “There are some areas where we can’t utilize that method because we have drainage issues,” Ferrell said. “In those instances, when it gets to a certain temperature, we are unable to get it off the road and Mother Nature will have to help us clear the road once the temperature starts to rise.” This is not just a township issue as all road crews that will be out starting Friday must contend with the rapidly-dropping temperatures. When possible, give the crews time to clear and treat the roadways before beginning your travel plans whenever possible. Crews in Ohio and West Virginia might need to work overnight at times so local residents can awake to cleared and safe roadways. “Perfect” Timing Ferrell took to Facebook earlier this week for township residents and drivers in general, stressing patience and, if possible a request to stay home, especially during the early hours of Friday morning. Township Trustee Rick Ferrell put out a call stressing caution to area drivers. Driving in snowy, and especially icy, conditions can be treacherous. That’s why the sheriff’s office in each county can and will put out a snow emergency warning and designate Level 1, 2, or even 3 emergencies. The higher the level, the fewer cars are allowed to be on the roadways. Under normal circumstances, citizens are more than happy to hunker down at home during a weekend storm, lest they chance an accident being out on the roadways. This weekend, however, is not a normal weekend. With Christmas Eve coming Saturday and Christmas Day following, local, county, and state roadways are sure to be filled with holiday travelers this weekend, longing to spend some quality time with their families all across the country. It will only add to the headaches and potential danger caused by this coming winter storm. “It couldn’t come at a worse time,” Ferrell said. “Families plan all year long to get together at Christmas, and we are trying to draft a plan where we can get these roads as passable as possible on Saturday and Sunday. “We’re just hoping it’s not going to transpire as they say.” The issues are further troubling for smaller entities like Townships. ODOT, for example, has a number of employees ready to hop into salt trucks and began clearing the roadways. Richland Township, by comparison, has six employees, all of whom will work a regular work week and will be subject to laws restricting the number of consecutive hours worked without a break. The predicted snow accumulation is only one part of the expected issues in the Upper Ohio Valley this holiday weekend. “Our crew is always on standby for any type of event, but when we are anticipating bad weather, we try to plan accordingly,” Ferrell said. “We can only have the crew out for so many hours in the day, and we don’t have the replacements for them, so there are times we just don’t have the hours for them to get the roads clear. “This is not a 24-7 operation and it’s difficult to keep up with unplanned weather because it can happen any time.” This weather event is more so planned, so Ferrell said that’s been able to be taken into account for work later in the week. If it’s snowing, someone will be plowing at all times. It’s just, with such a small crew, all six can’t be plowing at the same time, all night, without a mandated break in between. Shifts will be staggered, but rest assured, the roads will get cleared. “It’s important for people to understand, we have a normal workday, Monday through Friday, so when it comes to any type of overtime hours, we have to plan these situations, accordingly, based on the number of hours.” It’s not cost-savings planning either, rather, as stated above, a number of consecutive hours worked issue. “The trustees want people to understand, we’ll do whatever we can to keep the roads safe, but especially during the winter, be patient with the township, or any other road crews, as we promise we’ll do the best we can to make the roads safe to drive.” When the township itself has 95 miles of roadways per lane with two lanes generally to clear, some location is going to be mile No. 1 and some location is going to be mile No. 95 that gets cleared. But rest assured, as each will get cleared. Read the full article

[swensonconsulting]

Keeping Safe While Driving in a Snow Storm

Driving in a snow storm can be terrifying and dangerous. According to studies by the AAA Foundation for Traffic Safety, winter storms, unfavorable weather, and poor road conditions contribute to more than 2,000 fatal wintertime accidents and over half a million crashes overall. Drivers need to be ready in advance to handle crises on winter roads. Swenson Consulting advises motorists to exercise caution when traveling in bad weather.

Driving in snowy and icy conditions? Keep this advice in mind:

Cold Weather Driving Tips

Keep a variety of winter survival supplies in your vehicle, including additional food and water, warm clothing, a flashlight, a glass scraper, blankets, prescription drugs, and more.

Never preheat a car in a garage or another enclosed space.

Make sure your tires have enough tread and are properly inflated.

Maintain a minimum of half a tank of petrol in your car at all times.

When driving on a slick surface, such as ice or snow, never utilize the cruise control.

Tips for Driving in the Snow

Stay home. Only leave the house when absolutely essential. Even if you can drive safely in inclement weather, it’s best to stay inside rather than taking unneeded chances.

Drive carefully. When driving on snow or ice, you should always reduce your speed to take into consideration the decreased traction.

Slowly increase and decrease your speed. To regain traction and prevent skids, gradually increase the gas. Avoid trying to accelerate quickly and allow yourself enough time to slow down at stoplights. Keep in mind that slowing down on icy and snowy roads takes more time.

Keep a following distance of five to six seconds. If you need to stop for any reason, it will require this additional time to come to a complete stop safely.

Be cognizant of the condition of your brakes. If you don’t have brakes in good to great condition, don’t drive your vehicle in icy or snowy conditions. Keep the heel of your foot firmly planted on the floor when you press down on the brake pedal with the upper part of your foot.

If you can prevent it, don’t stop. The amount of inertia required to begin moving from a complete stop versus the amount required to begin moving while still rolling differs significantly. Do your best to slow down but keep moving until a traffic light changes.

Do not try to accelerate up hills. On snow-covered roads, adding more gas will just cause your wheels to spin. Before you get to the hill, try to generate some inertia, and then let that inertia take you to the summit. Reduce your speed as you near the top of the slope and move more slowly as you descend.

Never let off the gas when ascending a hill. Nothing is worse than attempting to move forward up a hill on an icy road. Before tackling the hill, gain some momentum on a level surface.

Tips for Long-Distance Winter Trips

Be Prepared: Before embarking on a lengthy journey, have your car inspected by a reputable auto repair shop.

Stay Alert to the Weather: If poor weather is predicted, check the weather along your route and, if at all feasible, postpone your travel.

Practice Good Communication: Before you leave, let others know your route, destination, and anticipated arrival time.

If you experience an emergency while driving in inclement weather:

Continue to be in your car since it offers temporary refuge and makes it simpler for rescuers to find you. In a strong storm, avoid attempting to walk. In blowing snow, it is simple to lose track of your car and get lost.

Avoid overexerting yourself by paying attention to your body and stopping if you are fatigued when digging out your car.

Being seen: To signal for help, fasten a piece of brightly colored cloth to your car’s antenna or place it on top of a rolled-up window. If at all feasible, leave the dome light on at night. It will make it simpler for rescuers to find you and just consume a minimal amount of power.

Clear the Exhaust Pipe: Check to see that snow, ice, or mud are not blocking the exhaust pipe. When the engine is operating, a blocked exhaust pipe can allow lethal carbon monoxide gas to escape into the car’s cabin, creating a dangerous situation for the occupants.

Keep Warm: Protect your body from the cold by wrapping it in everything you can find. Paper maps, floor mats, and newspapers all fall under this category. Prepare thick clothing and blankets in advance for use in an emergency.

Conserve Fuel: If at all feasible, only operate the heater and engine for as long as necessary to dispel the chill. This will promote fuel efficiency.

For slip and fall lawsuits and incidents involving snowstorms, ice storms, and other severe winter weather, Swenson Consulting, a snow expert, offers snow removal expert witness services.

[whatareyoudoingwithamaserati]

HI. TEXANS. PEOPLE WITHOUT POWER. HERES A BUNCH OF THINGS THAT MIGHT HELP

Via a bunch of people ( @marelicina @paperback-rainbows @chaosofbattle and myself who know some stuff about cold temps)

Have a bunch of water stocked up in big bottles (ONLY USE WHEN POWER IS OUT)

Layers, layers, layers!! It’s been said before but they MATTER. Warm hats, socks and gloves! Multiple layers of everything makes it awkward to walk but It Doesn’t Matter because it’ll keep you warm

Wear scarves, hats, winter coats, and even shoes indoors

Old clothes that are too big are good for later layers

You should sleep in the layers you wear during the day, but you can take off a few layers, as you might get too hot

Minimize the amount of time you’re naked/wearing less clothes

Silky stuff doesn’t hold heat well, it gets cold easy

Being cold with protection and cold without protection is VERY different

If you don’t have neck warmers/bandanas, masks keep your face warm

You lose the most heat from your head, feet, and chest

Minimize surface area by curling into a ball or laying facedown

Sleeping does help preserve warmth, but too much can cause more harm than help

Face, fingers, toes, hands, feet, ears tend to get coldest fastest. Arms and legs take a bit more work to get cold (when covered)

Keep your chest, head, feet, and hands warm (cold hands lose functionality fast)

Please please please keep your hands warm. You do everything with them.

If your fingers/toes go from being freezing to not having any feeling that is FROSTBITE SETTING IN. Warm them up FAST.

Again; fingers, nose and toes get cold fast

Layer your chest as much as possible

Wet hair/skin is BAD. Avoid as much as possible. It makes you 100x colder

Shower less because if you lose power it’ll be BAD

If you get wet: take off the wet clothes IMMEDIATELY. Dry off and put something else on ASAP

Snowy clothes are wet clothes, even if it doesn’t feel like it

If the power is out long-term. Do not shower/bathe. Wipe yourself down really fast with a damp cloth and leave it at that.

Sanitary wipes are much better than showers/baths

Wood flooring is better than tile and stone but not by much

Carpets/having blankets on the ground are/is better than bare flooring

Sitting/laying on the floor is Not Helpful. The floor gets colder faster

Bringing mattresses and cushions into one small room to sit on helps

Heat goes to the top of the room, so having your feet/hands up/off the floor is better

Again: get everyone in the same room. Pets, plants, EVERYONE. The smaller the room, the better. Large rooms are harder to keep heated.

Enclosed/small spaces are warmer

Close your windows. Close the shades and curtains. Heat escapes through windows

Get all the blankets possible in the room you’re all staying in

Clothes too. It’ll make a mess but all else fails, you can use them in a way similar to blankets, or as more layers

HUDDLE TOGETHER FOR WARMTH. You don’t have to be touching (if you’re touch averse) but the closer you are to people, the more heat you share

Keep younger children, the elderly, and pets near the middle of the huddle. They get cold faster

Conserve your energy as much as possible. Cold saps your energy FAST

BUT do move around every once in a while to keep circulation going. The cold will fuck it up.

If you go numb that is BAD. VERY VERY BAD. Move around if you start to go numb. Take care of your circulation

Candles give off a bit of both heat and light, but use them carefully

Battery and solar powered things will help a LOT. Keep them charged

If you get power back for even a short bit, charge portable chargers to use later

Your phone will die so much faster if it gets cold

If you can, turn off bluetooth on your phone, and close all unneeded apps. If you’re not going to be online, turn off your wifi and put it on airplane mode. It’ll conserve battery

If you get power back, make hot drinks and keep them in thermoses

Drinks made in hot dairy will probably give you more energy and warmth rather than just hot water

Holding said thermos will also help keep your hands a bit warmer

The food coolers you’d fill with ice and take to the beach can keep food hot, so you can put food in there to keep it warmer longer.

Peanut butter and bread provides some nutrients and energy and doesn’t require energy to make

Hard to prepare food is Bad. Any food should be easy to make

Having pre-prepared food that you don’t need to heat up is important

Eat the unhealthy boxed meals with a shit ton of calories. Whatever diet you’re on doesn’t matter, you need food. (Allergies don’t count obvs)

If you can make bread, do it. Download a recipe and make sure you have it. It usually requires power, but bread is a good base thing to eat.

If doesn’t have to be loaf bread either!! There are flatbreads that are easier and faster to make

If things have an expiration date, try and eat those first, but make sure you have enough food to last for a while

Canned stuff is good too, especially if you don’t have to heat it up

Please don’t start fires to cook things if you’re indoors. If you have a to-code fire pit in your living room, you might be able to use that, but please, please be safe

Eating snow is a HORRIBLE idea. It’s dirty as shit and it’ll make you so much colder.

You can boil it in an emergency, but it’s not reccomended at all

DRIVING ON ICE/SNOW USES A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SKILLSET.

Don’t drive in snow, especially blowing snow. Don’t.

If you absolutely have to drive, at least double the distance between you and cars in front of you.

Be super careful. Don’t get distracted by falling snow. If you can’t see through the snow, PULL OVER. Keep near the shoulder of the road so you can get traction if needed.

Start slowing down before you get near stop signs/traffic lights. Ice tends to build up around them.

Ice can and will fuck your shit up. Google tips on how to survive ice, ESPECIALLY black ice.

Make sure your car doesn’t freeze over. It can really fuck with the internal mechanisms. They do not react well with cold temperatures.

Keep a blanket and flashlight in the back seat of your car, even if you don’t think you’ll need it. You might, and it’s better safe than sorry.

If you are going to drive, do not dress for the car. I do not care how hot you will get in the car, dress for the outside temperatures, because if your car breaks down, you are FUCKED.

If it looks like your power might go out, tell someone, but make sure they don’t come to check on you. Nobody should be leaving their houses.

Direct wind is BAD. Windchill makes everything worse, and can cut through all of your layers.

Morale is important. I know this sucks, and it’s hard to stay positive, but the more down everyone in the house is, the harder it gets to keep staying safe and to have the energy to stay safe

METAL IS BAD. VERY BAD. It gets cold very fast, and your skin can (and will) stick to it.

WET METAL IS EVEN WORSE. That is a guarantee that you’ll get stuck to it.

If you do get stuck to metal, WARM water poured over the area of contact should help you get free.

Putting salt in front of your house will help keep snow/ice off.

If you’re going down/up an icy/steep place, going sideways is good. Always keep one foot on a steady spot.

In general, when moving on ice, move slowly, keep your body low, shuffle or take small steps, and if you have to crawl, fucking crawl.

If you are crawling, DO NOT put your bare hands in the snow. Don’t put bare ANYTHING in the snow.

There is no time for pride to get in the way. If it helps you stay alive and safe, it helps you stay alive and safe.

Snow in shoes is BAD. Always look for the path with the least snow.

Wrapping cloth around your shoes can help you walk on ice/slick surfaces. If you don’t have any winter shoes, this will help.

If you do the above, don’t use things you want to wear. It’ll take forever for it to dry.

That’s all for now, Texan friends please stay safe and take care, we’re all here for you <3

IF I SEE ANYONE IN THE NOTES BEING A CLOWN TOWARDS TEXANS ITS AN INSTANT BLOCK. CARE ABOUT OTHERS. DONT BE A DICK.

Editing to add: check through the notes! A bunch of other people have added some other really helpful advice!!

[serenityseventeen]

Wonwoo (전원우):

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

“Warmth Amidst The Snowy Night”

synopsis: Due to the evening blizzard dawning in the town, your worry allows your boyfriend, Wonwoo, to stay over for the night. As both of you are staring out the window, you notice his hands shaking from the icy weather, and proceed to give him a warm back hug.

genre: fluff

characters: boyfriend!wonwoo x reader

a/n: A winter-related fic in spring/summer? I mean- it's cute though + My left ear better unblocks itself, I want to listen to ‘Bittersweet’ with both my ears + 2 weeks of school left!?! ALMOST THERE!

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

You stared out the kitchen window, seeing snowflakes stick themselves to the glass, covering the whole town with their white flakes.

The snow had gotten so heavy that your boyfriend, Wonwoo, decided to just stay over at your house until the paths cleared up a little, possibly until the next morning. Driving in this weather would be too scary and it was partially because of you that your boyfriend concluded with the decision of staying with you.

You two were on a call when the abrupt snow started falling. Wonwoo was actually the one who insisted on driving to the dorm, but you were way too worried that the weather would cause something bad to happen. That's when Wonwoo decided that staying over wouldn't hurt, because of your worries. He didn't want to worry you.

You were in the kitchen, washing the cups that were used by you and your boyfriend. You two had drunk some warm tea, making both of your bodies warm enough temporarily. You knew that Wonwoo got cold easily so the moment he came, you made the hot tea.

After washing the cups and placing them back on display in the cabinets, you wiped your hands off with a yellow cloth.

You walked past your brown-colored living room furniture and white walls, going toward the bedroom. The only thing that brought light to the room was the small orange lamp on your desk.

Wonwoo was looking out the large window in your bedroom. The window had peach curtains, slid to the side of the window.

You walked up to him from behind. He was wearing a knit, long-sleeved, tan sweater and dark brown pants. You were quietly looking at where his eyes were settled, wondering what he was looking so wisely at.

Wonwoo's left arm was under his right elbow. His right hand was brought up to his face, his thumb gently scratching the bottom of his chin. You analyzed his hand movements, noticing that his hands were shaking a little bit.

You peeked out from behind him. He must've seen it at the corner of his eyes because he turned to you with a soft smile.

“What are you looking at?” You asked, turning to the window innocently, your hands behind your back.

“I'm just debating whether those two cars would be able to get out of the snow. I feel kind of bad.”

You chuckled. “Oh, so that's what you were looking at? I was wondering what you were looking at so philosophically.”

Wonwoo laughed, dropping his hands back to his sides. You looked over at the two cars, stuck in the intersection. There was snow surrounding the entire road, making it almost impossible to pass through unless they had a mighty truck.

“Thankfully, I didn't continue driving, or else, I might have been caught up in the snow for hours,” Wonwoo took out his phone and adjusted his glasses with his trembling hand.

You knew that he had hand tremors but it seemed like they were worse today. As his red fingers tapped the phone, you could see them vibrate.

Wonwoo checked the weather on his phone.

“Blizzard until tomorrow,” he said.

Your eyes couldn't help but stare at Wonwoo's hands. He didn't seem to notice that you were focusing on his shaking hands. He didn't even seem to notice that his hands were shaking.

Wonwoo placed his phone back in his pocket and left his hands in there too. He stared out at the two stuck cars. A smile formed on his face.

“Congratulations, red car, you have succeeded in escaping the hands of the snow monster!” Wonwoo said sarcastically.

You laughed and walked behind him. You took the soft, checkered pattern blanket from your bed and wrapped it around your body. Then, you waddled over to Wonwoo, opening your arms and spreading the blanket, giving him a large back hug to warm him up.

Wonwoo was a bit flustered by your sudden actions. He just froze, letting your head rest on his back and arms wrap around him.

Wonwoo smiled warmly, taking out his cold hand from his pockets and placing them on your hand.

You smiled slightly while transferring your warmth into his body.

“I knew it,” You said quietly. “I knew that you were cold! Your hands were shaking so much!”

“Really?” Wonwoo asked as he glanced down at his pinkish hands. “I guess that tea wasn't good enough to warm me up.”

“Are you feeling warm now?” You asked, your voice unintentionally cute, making Wonwoo's heart melt.

He chuckled, letting the cute and fluffy you hug him more. Wonwoo continued to look at the window, but instead, he was looking at the window reflection of the two of you. He smiled, holding onto your hand and the fluffy blanket.

“Not quite warm yet,” Wonwoo finally replied after a short moment of silence.

He turned around to face you. Then, Wonwoo lifted you, who still had the blanket around you, into his arms. You shrieked a little, his arms around your back, you in the air, clinging onto him.

He then dunked you on the white bedspread and laid on top of you, feeling your warm breath against his forehead. You moved the blanket so that it would cover his long legs.

You smiled, running your warm fingers through his hair.

“Is this going to make you warm?” You asked, giggling softly. “Throwing me on the bed and laying on top of me like this?”

Wonwoo then slid his hands around your waist, burying his head in your shoulder. His chest was pressed against yours, your warmth transferring to his body.

You gave Wonwoo a small peck on the forehead.

“Thank you for your warmth donation,” Wonwoo said, his voice muffled as it was buried in your shoulder.

You giggled, causing him to laugh. His laughter tickled your shoulders, making you move uncontrollably. Wonwoo's arms around your waist held you still though.

“Just a bit more until warmth transfer is complete,” Wonwoo said, his voice sounded a bit tired. You giggled again at his remark though, your hands resting on him.

The little cuddles and snuggles in this heavy blizzard left both of you feeling warm throughout the night. Snow continued to fall all around, decorating the city in white.

Who knew ‘a bit’ was a whole night long?

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

request:

© serenityseventeen

5/28/21 - 6:46 pm

[smol-and-grumpy]

To Be Free - CH01

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Escaping and hiding away, that’s what she wants to do. Her parent’s remote cabin in the mountain sounds like the best place for it. There, she meets someone from her past — a green-eyed mountain man.

Chapter Warnings: A little back story, cheating (not Dean), language, threats being made, car accident

WC: 2481

Beta: @winchest09​ <3

A/N: So, this is the beginning of the Mountain Man!Dean AU. I hope you’ll like it!

Read ahead on Patreon!

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

The phone buzzes on the seat next to her. Again. 

It hasn’t stopped ringing since Y/N had gotten into the car and drove away. She’s so close to just throwing it out of the window but then again, the rational side of her brain tells her that she would endanger the automobiles around her on the highway, and she doesn’t really want to cause any damage, or accidents, if it can be avoided. 

“You’re a goody-goody.” Mick always used to say, “It’ll get you in trouble if you don’t toughen up.” 

Perhaps Mick was right. She probably was not made to work in that firm where she has to help fucking criminals. But then again, he made it seem so plausible and she can’t believe that she fell for it all. Y/N had fallen for the prestige, for the fame, and most of all, she had fallen for Mick, and that was the worst fucking mistake. 

The events of that night flash before her eyes once more. 

It’s 9 PM. Mick usually doesn’t have a reason to work so late unless he has a meeting with the mob family that they have under their wings. She never liked to go to their meetings, always found an excuse to opt out. The way the men always stare at her like she was a piece of meat rather than a woman with a brain, always sent a chill down her spine. 

When she stepped out of the elevator, the floor was dark. There’s only minimal light coming from the reception area that’s vacated at this time of the night. Y/N never liked to be here after hours but it’s the only place she thought she could find Mick. He didn’t pick up his phone when she called him which was highly unusual. Somehow, she was a little afraid of what she would find. It could be him just laughing and joking with the mobsters, but it could also have been him bruised and beaten beyond recognition because the Family wasn’t happy with his work, or it could be worse. He could be dead. Today was his birthday too and she even ordered catering for the both of them to enjoy at home. She guessed that she would have to pop the dishes into the microwave because by the time she decided to check here, it was already starting to turn cold.

Walking further along the hallway, she noticed that the lights in Mick’s office are still on and a sense of relief washed over her, while the sense of dread built up in the pit of her stomach at the same time. 

“Oh god, Mick.” 

There was a faint moan that carried through the hallway of the offices. It made her blood freeze, but it forced her to walk faster.

“Mmh,” she heard Mick humming. “Always so fucking tight for me, Eve. Such a good pussy.” 

“Better than Y/N, I’d hope.” 

Mick chuckled, “I’d rather you not talk about her while I fuck you. You know you’re my best girl, baby.”

The dread in Y/N’s stomach intensified and something began to churn inside of her. She had to clutch it so as not to just hurl out the whole contents into the next pot plant she could find. 

Eve was her friend. Her best friend since she moved into the city two years ago. She was even the one who helped Eve to get a job at her boyfriend’s firm. 

Well, not her boyfriend anymore, she guessed. 

She reached the door, fingers clutched around the frame for purchase as she took in the image before her. Eve was bent over the table, Mick half undressed, fucking into her from behind. 

He threw his head back as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he turned his head and their eyes met. 

For a brief second, she thought she saw a smirk twisting at his lips when he noticed her. He kept on pounding into Eve, though, his pace never faltered. 

Y/N retreated, tears pooled in her eyes and she moved on autopilot. Before she knew it, she found herself in her office, packing the things that she needed into her laptop bag. 

‘Stupid! So fucking stupid!’ she thought. She should have seen it. Why hadn’t she seen it? The red flags were always there. Mick always gave her assignments that would see her traveling all over the country for a long stretch of time. She would find receipts of hotels laying around in the apartment, or when she did laundry, but he always had a good reason. They hadn’t been intimate for a long time, too. Mick was always too tired and if he wasn’t then she would be. And if that happened, he would get out of bed and said that he needed a drink and was out of the apartment before she could even say anything. She was so engrossed in her work and too oblivious to what was going on, that she ignored all the warning signs. 

She was crying now, the tears not stopping. But it’s not over Mick. She would never cry over a man who had treated her like this. She cried for herself, for being dumb enough to let someone play her. 

Bending down to pack the remainder of her things, she opened her last drawer, revealing a little safe that was neatly tucked inside. Without hesitation, she punched in the combination and it sprang open. It contained a single USB stick. 

Picking it up, she clutched it in the palm of her hand. She had forgotten about the small device and now she knew why Mick kept her around. She was the only person who had a copy of the shady business his clients are doing, because she was involved as much as Mick. He was never going to give her up because if the information got leaked, he'd be taking the fall. 

There were footsteps along the hallway, the thumping sounds getting louder as someone rushed to her office and she quickly let the stick slip into her jean pocket. 

“What are you doing?” he asked too casually but with a bitter undertone, acting like he hadn’t just fucked her best friend. 

“What does it look like?” she snarled, patience wearing thin. “I quit. And don’t even come by my apartment anymore.”

He walked in further; his hair was ruffled and the buttons on his shirt were hastily done up, the material lopsided as he had fastened them wrong. She was so disgusted by his appearance.

Mick rubbed his hand over his chin, carefully thinking about his next words. “I need the USB stick before you leave.” 

She snorted. That’s typical. All he could think about is his fucking business. “I don’t have it.”

“Liar!”

“Oh, look who’s talking.” Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t anger him but screw that.

“Y/N.” Mick rounded up around her desk and came to stand right before her. The scent of sex hit her nose in waves. It made her nauseous. “You’re going to get into so much trouble if they know that you have it and believe me, if you walk out of here, they will find out because I will tell them.”

“I’m not scared of those men.”

Mick laughed. Fucking laughed. 

“They’ll come for you, Y/N. Those men are not to be fucked with.” He was still chuckling when he said, “They will find you and they will kill you.”

She cocked her eyebrow, and maybe she should have been scared of Mick and his threats but she’s still got the upper hand. If she got to expose him first, she has bargaining leverage. Maybe she’d get to be in a witness protection program. By the time it hits the fan, she will hopefully be long gone. 

“I don’t have it,” she said again as she bumped her shoulder against his on her way out, shoving him to the side. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Mick called after her, his voice echoing in the almost empty hallway. 

With her head held high, she descended the stairs, too impatient and not to say scared to wait for the elevator.

 The phone buzzed again after having only stopped for a short time. It actually hasn’t stopped ringing since she drove back to her apartment to pack her duffel with enough clothes that should last her for a couple of days. She wanted to get out of here, clear her head, think about what to do next. 

It’s after she stopped for gas that she remembered the remote cabin that belonged to her parents. They hadn’t been up there for a while as the health of her father was deteriorating but she knew where they kept the spare key, and it’s the only place she knew nobody would come looking for her because she hadn’t been with Mick long enough to let him in on the existence of the cabin, nor on the memories the place held.

Buying enough food that would last her a couple of days, she drove towards the foot of the mountain. 

It was February and the roads were icy as it had snowed just last night. She hoped that her car would have enough power to get her up there, as she didn’t have snow chains with her. Not that she knew how to put them on in the first place. If worse comes to worst, she’d have to abandon her car and hike up the last bit, which was totally fine with her too. Anything to get away from civilization.

As she made her way up the snowy road and rounded up the twelfth bend in the street (There were fourteen - she had counted them from the drive up there every winter), her phone buzzed again. 

She glanced over to the passenger seat to catch the caller ID. It could be her mother for all she knew and that one, she would pick up. Y/N would maybe tell her that she was on the way to the cabin so that they wouldn’t be too worried if they can’t get a hold of her, because the reception could be pretty spotty up there.

But no, it’s fucking Mick again. She rolled her eyes upon seeing the name flash on the screen before turning her gaze back to the snow-covered street in front of her, but it was already too late. Out of her periphery, she caught it. The deer that ran out of the woods, its eyes wide when it saw the headlights of her SUV. Her foot hit the break immediately, but it was too late. The car swerved on the icy ground and she hoped she didn’t hit the animal before her vision goes black.

  Dean was sitting in his recliner in the cabin while he enjoyed his glass of bourbon. It’s his downtime, one of his favorite pastimes, next to spending his days out with Stevie, his Bernese mountain dog.

He had been coming to this cabin since his early childhood, having only missed one Winter out of the many. There were times where he would only spend a week up here but also there were times where he would be there for the whole winter. It’s his favorite place, always has been. 

The cabin is not as big as the ones that surrounded it, but it’s enough. It has only one bedroom, yet it was cozy. He remembered back to when he was younger, when he and his younger brother would sleep on the fold-out couch while his parents took the bedroom. Sometimes if Sam was upset with him, Dean would spend the night on the rug in front of the fireplace instead, and it was the best thing. He almost felt bad for wanting to get into a fight with Sam more often so that his sibling wouldn’t look at him funny when he wanted to spend the night on the floor instead of on the worn-out couch.

Once his parents stopped their annual visit up there, and they wanted to sell the cabin, Dean had saved enough money to buy it from them. There were just too many memories tied to the little property, too many of them that he wasn’t willing to just forget. 

While he took a sip from his tumbler, Stevie lifted her head and twisted her ears. 

Dean noticed, and immediately reached down to pat the dog's head, “What's wrong, Stevie?” 

The dog ignored him to get up and walk over to the door, letting out a whine as her nails started to scratch at the wood. 

“Easy, girl,” he soothes the agitated dog. “You wanna go out for a walk again?” 

Stevie whined some more, her scratching becoming more frantic. 

“Right,” Dean sighed as he got out of his seat. He took his time to empty his tumbler before setting it down on the coffee table. “Let’s go then.” 

The snow had started to fall again as they got out of the cabin, and he ducked inside once more to grab his hat that’s hanging on the hook right behind the door. Stevie was not impressed that it was taking Dean so long to get ready and started to bark.

“Easy, Stevie,” he chuckled as her wet nose nuzzled against his palm. He reached down to scratch behind her ear, a motion that seemed to calm her down. “Good girl.” 

They made their way down the street. The old snow crunched underneath his boots. Fresh layers of the white powder would cover over it soon enough, erasing their prints when it settled. He thought about doing their usual nightly walk around the perimeter, wondering if maybe they’d see a deer or two. Stevie had a way with deer. They love to meet her and Dean’s always mesmerized by the unusual bond they had. Stevie was always good with other animals and people, the dog’s sense to protect everyone is highly admirable, and Dean really couldn’t wish for a better companion.

As they rounded up the second bend in the road, he saw the car. Its headlights were still on but the front was wrapped around a tree which was the only thing standing between the car and the abyss. It was not a strong pine and the wood was already creaking under the weight.

Stevie rushed forward and Dean followed suit. The tree was going to give in at any minute, he just knew and if he couldn’t save the car, maybe he would be able to save whoever was stuck in there.

Dean thankfully reached the vehicle in time, yanking the driver’s door open and the sight of the girl slumped over the steering wheel made his blood run colder than the icy road he was standing on. 

“Y/N?” 

CH02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

​

[jlalafics]

"The Long Weekend"-Part One

Happy belated birthday @keelaree!

Hope you enjoy this first part. Thank you for being such a wonderful part of my writing life, and an even better friend. Can't wait till we can reunite in SF, so we can tea time together and eat soup dumplings.

Love you!

Summary: Two assistants who barely tolerate each other. One snowy cabin. One very long weekend.

Oh, and one bed.

-----

“I’m making the turn now, Haymitch,” Peeta told his boss as he navigated the icy road. “Should have everything prepped and ready by the time you and Effie arrive.”

“Thanks,” Haymitch replied over the speakerphone. “I should tell you that I did ask for someone to help you out. Someone who knows Effie better than I do sometimes—”

Peeta slowed his car as he spotted the cozy cabin in front of him. However, he grimaced seeing the red Jeep already parked on its side.

“You didn’t.”

“Peeta, Katniss knows Effie very well,” his boss said calmly. “Just like you know me. I know that you two don’t get along—”

“Understatement of the year,” Peeta replied as he parked roughly.

“This is important. I’m proposing to Effie and I want it to be perfect,” Haymitch explained. “Katniss knows all the foods she likes to eat, and how to decorate the place to make it comfortable yet romantic. Effie and I are finishing up our meeting with Mr. Snow then we’ll be making our way up to the cabin for the holiday weekend. I’ll call you when we’re on our way so you and Katniss can take off—that is if you haven’t murdered one another by then.”

“I’m only doing this because I’m your assistant,” he called out.

“You could at least like me!” Haymitch joked. “I pay you an obscene amount for an assistant.”

“Katniss probably gets paid more.”

“Well, she picks up tampons for Effie without being asked so probably.”

“Everything will be ready by the time you get here,” Peeta promised. “And I’m doing this because I like and respect you.”

“Thank you, Peeta. Call you soon.”

++++++

Peeta Mellark sighed as he stepped out of his car, bags in hand. The snowy wind picked up and he wrapped his parka tighter around himself before rushing up to the porch. It was getting worse up here, and he hoped that the soon-to-be engaged couple would make it safely.

Getting out the key that Haymitch lent him, Peeta unlocked the door and quickly stepped in to keep the cold air from entering with him.

“Oh, you’re finally here.” Katniss Everdeen sailed into the room, placing a charcuterie board on the coffee table in the center of the sitting room. “I thought you died or something.”

Peeta gave her a wry smile, placing the bags on the floor before shaking off his parka and hanging it on the hook by the door.

“Thought or hoped?” He searched his bag before pulling out the champagne that Haymitch asked along with the two glasses. Going to the table, Peeta placed them on the table before going back to the bag for the champagne bucket. “Is there ice?”

“The fridge has an ice machine,” Katniss informed him tersely, nodding her head towards the left. “I’ve already gotten their dinner started.”

“Not surprised.” Peeta walked into the kitchen, heading to the stainless-steel fridge. “You’re so anal that you’ve probably carved those little radish flowers for garnish.”

“They’re in the fridge so they’ll be fresh.”

Peeta wasn’t sure why they didn’t get along.

For one, Katniss was admittedly attractive with her long dark, and almond-shaped grey eyes. The first time he saw his stomach had definitely done a little flip. She had been walking alongside Effie, notebook in hand, wearing a fitted black dress with a peter pan collar and paying scant attention to anything else around her.

She literally knocked him to the ground.

Katniss had apologized, holding out her hand to help him up.

And Peeta had fucking tingled at her touch.

Over the next few days as he learned the ropes of being Haymitch Abernathy’s assistant, Peeta noticed her across the hall. Effie Trinket’s office was directly adjacent to his boss’ and Katniss’ desk was in the same spot as his.

She kept her head down, never acknowledging him, so wrapped up in her work or answering her phone.

So, Peeta asked around.

“She’s an ice queen,” Cato, who was in Marketing, informed him. “Never wants to hang out with anyone or even join in during happy hour. It’s important here to form relationships with everyone. Panem Industries is all about workplace harmony and Katniss embodies none of that.”

“Yeah, she’s snooty, too,” Clove from IT added. “I once asked her something about her family and she replied that it was none of my business. Like I was just trying to get to know her!”

“Wow. I guess if Katniss is that much of a head case, then I shouldn’t bother to ask her for help,” he told the two.

After that, during any interaction, she treated him indifferently…cold even. Peeta couldn’t help but be disappointed that Cato and Clove’s words were true.

And that was the end of his fascination with Katniss Everdeen.

“You want to get out here and help me or was the ice machine too hard for you to maneuver?” Katniss suddenly called out.

Peeta quickly filled the bucket and stepped out.

Katniss was bent over the couch, arranging the pillows, and he felt a heat rush through his skin.

There was also the slight twinge in his crotch at seeing a firm apple-bottom in tight ski pants.

It seemed that Katniss Everdeen had a bigger effect on him than he realized.

++++++

Peeta Mellark had a huge effect on her.

Katniss struggled to keep the heat off her cheeks as she fixed the pillows that she bought for the cabin. Effie loved those cheesy sayings, so she went on Etsy and ordered custom-made pillows with her favorite quotes.

No one should spend so much time arranging pillows, but Katniss could feel his stare on her. It made her nervous…and tingly.

However, these feelings didn’t belong—especially in a work situation and she needed this job.

Taking a breath, Katniss turned…to find Peeta right behind her.

He jumped back, startled by her abrupt movements.

Whoa—was he checking her out?

“Why were you so close?” she blurted out.

“Sorry. It looked like you were confused about how pillows worked,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “You were there for a millennium.”

“Funny.” She sighed at the amusement in his gorgeous blue eyes—stop it!—and steeled her expression. “Do you think you could help me set up this romantic dinner for our bosses instead of standing there like an ass-licker?”

“You mean asshole.”

“I stand by my words,” Katniss replied and was surprised when he chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he did. She couldn’t help but let her mouth rise. “The table is in that closet next to the door. I got some table linens from a vintage shop that Effie likes last week.”

“Wow, you’re really on top of it,” Peeta remarked, going to the closet. “How do you have time for a life?”

She didn’t.

As in, Katniss didn’t have a life.

She had work, she had a home, but a social life was non-existent. Katniss knew what everyone said about her; that she was cold and distant, never wanting to be part of the team. It never bothered her because she did have her reasons.

So, she was surprised at how hurt she was when she heard Peeta call her a headcase.

Katniss hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, only passing the breakroom to get to the copy machine. However, she stopped at the mention of her name.

Cato’s words were no surprise, though he failed to mention that her iciness was due to him inappropriately putting his arm around her and telling her that they should get to know each other on a personal level. Katniss also didn’t trust Clove for shit; she was the office gossip.

It hit hard to know that the one person who had made her tingle was so easily influenced by two douchebags.

Katniss had decided, then and there, that if Peeta didn’t see past her exterior, then he must be like the rest of them.

“I’m very organized,” she replied. It came out harder than she intended. “I have to be.”

Peeta had already set up the table in front of the fireplace.

“Well, it’s in your favor,” he told her. “You’re a good assistant.”

Katniss looked up in surprise. “You think I’m a good assistant?”

Peeta snorted. “Like you didn’t know it—where are the tablecloths?”

She handed him a beautiful fuchsia tablecloth followed by a cream lace one.

“Fuchsia first then layer it with the lace,” she told him. “I always hope I am. Effie is a great boss and she’s so supportive about work-and-homelife balance. I want to make sure this is all perfect for her.”

Katniss helped Peeta straighten the cloth, smoothing it down and making sure that there were no wrinkles. They settled into a light conversation about working with their respective bosses while setting the rest of the table. While Peeta worked on the place settings, he told her about how he admired Haymitch’s down-to-earth attitude despite being one of the most successful people in the company.

She arranged the florals in the center of the table while telling him how she had worked two jobs prior to getting this one.

“I was a waitress and housekeeper before this,” she revealed. “I was working a crazy lunch rush when I met Effie. We got to talking because she noticed how I met her coffee exactly the way she liked it despite my ragged expression—her words not mine. Effie kept on coming in, and a month after we met, she offered me the assistant job. Said she like my gumption.”

“That’s really cool,” Peeta said. He set down one of the forks he was cleaning and met her eyes. “You know, this is the first time we’ve really talked. I kind of believed you thought of me as your enemy.”

“I thought the same thing.” Katniss placed a folded napkin on the plate in front of her. “You called me a head case.”

His blue eyes widened, shocked at her words. Slowly, she could see in his eyes, the memory of his words.

“I didn’t know you heard that,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean it and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine!” Katniss stood up abruptly. The pain of his words churned in her stomach. “I know that everyone talks about me. In my defense, Cato was completely inappropriate when we first met. I thought acting like a bitch would stave him off. Clove has no filter—”

Peeta’s brows furrowed at her sudden coldness.

“I realize that now—one year later…is that why you completely ignore me? Why you act like the sight of me makes you sick?”

“I do not!” Katniss cried out into the room. “You avoid me at all costs!”

“Because the one time that I attempted to ask you a question—you brushed me aside!” he shouted. “If you had bothered to talk to me, I wouldn’t have believed what people said in the first place—” Peeta’s phone rang, and he quickly picked up, seeing his boss’ face on his screen. “Haymitch? You on your way? What? No, I haven’t looked outside—”

Katniss rushed to one of the front windows, pulling back the curtain.

White everywhere.

She couldn’t even see her car and it was bright fucking red!

“They’re not coming.”

Turning, Katniss found Peeta putting his phone in his pocket as he approached.

“The snowstorm came unexpectedly, and the roads are blocked. They’re staying at Effie’s to wait it out while we…are stuck here until it passes.”

++++++

The good thing was that the house was fully equipped. Food was stocked in the fridge since the couple had planned to stay for the long weekend. Both he and Katniss had even brought Haymitch and Effie’s luggage so there had clothing.

“Well, dinner must be ready,” Katniss informed him with a sigh. “If you want to get more comfortable, you can probably change to something of Haymitch’s. I have a call to make before my phone dies and then I’ll pull the food out of the oven.”

Peeta nodded numbly, grabbing Haymitch's duffle and going to the opposite open door where the bedroom was. He tossed the bag on the bed—

The one bed.

Turning, he rushed out of the room to look for his female counterpart. “Katniss!” He found the sitting room empty and headed into the kitchen.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she spoke quietly into the phone. “Just be nice to Johanna, okay? I’ll be home soon.” Her voice sounded completely different, light and happy—even affectionate. “I love you, too. Good night.”

He knocked on the archway and she turned to him.

“We have a problem,” he told her. “There’s only one bed.”

“And the couch is really just a loveseat,” Katniss mused as she pulled the food—steak with roasted asparagus and potatoes. Her expression was pained, and she blew out a breath. “I don’t really want to think about this right now. Why don’t we just eat?”

Peeta quickly nodded in agreement, rushing to the sitting room, and grabbing their plates.

“Why don’t you let me set this up?” he told her, seeing how frazzled she seemed. “Have a seat. Open the champagne—”

Katniss laughed and the sound of her lightened the load on his chest.

“You trying to get me drunk, Mellark?”

Peeta smirked. “If it makes you like me, then yes.”

“Fine, fine…” Katniss sauntered off towards the doorway. She stopped at the archway and their eyes met. Her gaze was nervous, but he could see the warmth in her greys. “You’re not my enemy, Peeta. And…I like you more than you think.”

Katniss disappeared, but not before he spied the blush on her cheeks.

Peeta felt another twinge. This time—in his chest.

++++++

Instead of sitting at the table, Katniss grabbed Effie’s luggage, a classic Louis Vuitton that cost more than her old Jeep, and brought it to the bedroom.

The one bedroom. With the one bed.

A sudden image of herself spooned contentedly against Peeta in that very bed rose in her mind—

“Stop tripping off him!” she chided herself.

Distractedly, Katniss opened the bag, sorting for something remotely comfortable in her boss’ luggage. However, it looked like Effie was expecting some sort of kinky weekend. The only sleepwear she had was a tiny red number that Katniss would probably bust out of; Effie was a tiny but fierce woman.

Maybe she could borrow something from Haymitch’s pile—

“Katniss?”

“I’m coming!” she called out before stuffing Effie’s lingerie back into the back.

Walking back into the room, Katniss saw that Peeta had already placed the plates on the table. He stood waiting for her, looking obnoxiously handsome as he had the day they met.

That first time, she had knocked him to the ground so caught up in following with Effie’s rapid pace. When Katniss held out her hand to him, she was caught up in the open smile he gave her. Then it was the gold waves along his forehead, which Katniss desperately wanted to brush back and the blue of his eyes—they had a tinge of grey in them.

For a moment, she was just a girl, and he was just a boy. Peeta didn’t know anything about the rumors of her iciness or how someone like her, with no college degree, managed to get a position like hers.

In that moment, Katniss was pure.

“You alright?” Peeta asked, interrupting her moment down memory lane.

“Yes.” She let him help her into her seat. “I was just thinking about something.”

“Was it the one bed thing?” he joked. “I’m fine with sleeping on the floor—”

Katniss held her hand up. “Let’s be grownups. It’s a big bed and we can put a pillow between us.”

“Very to the point,” Peeta replied, holding up his champagne glass. “To being grown-ups.”

“To being grown-ups.” She clinked her glass to his and took a full gulp. The liquid bubbled through her, making her laugh. “Wow, that’s some good shit.”

Peeta guffawed. “We’re going to have some fun.”

END OF PART ONE

[caffeinatedbraincell]

So you asked about prompts? ;D What about Joe/Nicky + any team member cuddling for warmth? Or something about all of them sharing clothes? Huge bonus if Lykon is still part of the Guard ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you anon for the ask!! 💕 This took forever but here it is~

Read on AO3

“Whose idea was this, again?” Joe complained, readjusting the weight of the front half of the giant plastic evergreen. He was sweating and freezing at the same time, which was decidedly one of his least favorite feelings ever.

“Yeah, I wonder,” Quynh seconded from behind him, throwing Andy a dirty look.

Andy sauntered hands-free in front of them, talking animatedly with Nicky and Lykon as they walked. The three of them clearly loved the snow, though Joe doubted they would be having even half as much fun if they had to carry the tree.

Quynh spat out some plastic pine needles. “Andromache! It’s your turn to carry this, come here!”

“Pleeease babe, we’re almost home!”

“Yeah,” Nicky interjected. “Besides, we have to carry the presents!” He waved the small, sparkly gift bag at them before pointedly turning back around.

Joe muttered something in Arabic about lazy spouses with nice asses, and Quynh cackled.

“Alright, alright,” Lykon interjected, jumping in front to get everyone’s attention. “Booker just texted me that he’s managed to get Nile out of the house under the pretext of, and I quote, ‘the snowball duel of the century.’ They’re going to the mountain pass, so we have two hours to get set up.”

“Perfetto,” Nicky said. “It’ll take me about twenty minutes to get the cookies in the oven, and then I’ll help decorate the tree.”

“You better get out in less than twenty,” Quynh warned. “When am I supposed to work? Do you even know how long it takes to cook chicken?”

“He doesn’t,” Joe confirmed.

“Habibi, that’s not fair. What about that time I made-”

A long, ominous buzz innervated all of their phones simultaneously. It was an emergency weather alert.

“Blizzard warning until 2:15 AM. All inner city residents are encouraged to shelter in place until further notice. Sudden snowfall and landslides may prove deadly,” Nicky read.

“Lykon, text Booker,” Andy ordered.

“On it.”

“No use,” Nicky cut in. “They’re probably already at the mountain pass. They won’t make it back in time.”

Andy swore loudly. “Joe, get the car. We’re going after them.”

Quynh and Joe dropped the tree and ran towards the house. By the time Joe started the car, Quynh was climbing down the porch steps with an armful of towels. The five of them piled into the car and tore down the icy roads.

The storm picked up with terrifying haste. When they got to the bridge near the mountain pass, visibility was already nearing zero. Joe switched places with Andy, clambering into the passenger seat so she could take the wheel. If anything could help them now, it was Andy’s extensive experience with driving in extreme weather conditions.

As they traveled through the pass, everyone kept their eyes trained on the snowy slopes, looking for any signs of Nile and Booker.

Suddenly, Lykon cried out in horror. Only a few feet away from the road were two motionless bodies, almost fully buried in a snow drift.

“Cazzo!” Nicky yelled, leaping out of the car. “There must have been an avalanche!”

Andy shoved the gearshift into parking and followed, joining the others as they attempted to dig out their friends with their bare hands. About two minutes after the frostbite set in, they were able to pull Nile and Booker free of the drift.

“Why aren’t they waking up?” Lykon asked, a tinge of panic in his voice. Andy rubbed Nile’s wrist as she looked at her watch, attempting to measure a pulse. Nicky tried to do the same for Booker, unconsciously chanting a Hail Mary under his breath.

Quynh stepped forward. “We need to get them back to the car. The heater will warm them up and help dry them off. Come on.”

Joe picked up Nile in his arms, cradling her head. Quynh threw Booker over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. This time, they noticed neither the weight nor the cold. Their entire focus was on getting their friends home to warmth and safety.

“Joe, your coat,” Andy said as they got to the car. “It’s fleece. Take Nile’s ski jacket off and give her yours.”

Joe obeyed without hesitation, bundling her in his own winter gear and buckling her into the back seat. Meanwhile, Quynh and Nicky used the towels to dry off Booker’s snow coat as best as they could. Lykon climbed into the passenger seat, and Andy began to drive.

Thankfully, the storm didn’t get worse on their way back (though Joe seriously doubted it could get worse). By the time Andy pulled into their driveway, Nile and Booker were beginning to stir.

“Hey, easy now,” Lykon soothed, helping a dazed Booker out of the car. “Let’s get you inside. There we go, you’re okay. Just a little farther.”

Behind them, Nile leaned heavily on Quynh as she half-carried her up the porch steps. Joe paused, watching them enter.

“All okay?” Andy asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as the wind whipped the snow around them.

“The tree…” Joe muttered, fazed. “I dropped it somewhere. We were going to surprise Nile, and I-”

Andy turned him gently to face her, pulling his woolen beanie down to cover his ears.

“It’s alright, love,” she said softly, switching to Arabic. “She needs a different kind of comfort from us now. She and Booker both. Let’s go take care of them, okay?”

Joe nodded, following her into the warmth of their home.

A fire blazed happily in the hearth. Someone had expanded their futon and pulled it closer to the fireplace. Nile and Booker were seated on it now, wearing large, clean sweatpants - Nicky’s sweatpants, Joe noticed - and fuzzy Christmas sweaters. Quynh and Lykon were snuggled up on either side of them, feeding them something from a thermos flask and adjusting the heated blankets.

“Room for two more?” Andy grinned, curling up next to Quynh and gesturing at Joe to sit. “What’s that?” Joe asked, sliding under Lykon’s side of the blanket and pointing at the steaming drink in the thermos.

“I made apple cider earlier and left it in the instant pot,” Lykon replied. “It was still hot.”

Lykon held the drink to Nile’s lips. She took a large sip, sighing happily. Joe made a mental note to pour himself some cider if he ever got out from under this heated blanket.

Just then, Nicky walked out of the kitchen, balancing a large tray in his hands. “Soup time! Everyone sit up, let’s eat.”

Joe blinked, wondering how his husband had had the presence of mind to immediately go into the kitchen and make soup, of all things. He himself was still recovering from the last hour’s ordeal.

Nicky tutted disapprovingly. “Boss, get changed. Joe, you too. Why would you think it’s a good idea to get under an electric blanket in wet clothes?”

Andy grimaced, throwing her jacket and t-shirt on the floor and snuggling up to Quynh in just her bra. Quynh tugged Andy closer.

Nicky turned to Joe, raising an eyebrow. “Habibi?”

Joe pulled a face. “Do you have any sweatpants left for me?”

“Always.” Nicky ruffled Joe’s curls. “My gray university ones are in the dryer. They’ll still be warm if you hurry.”

Joe got up, returning two minutes later in the gray sweatpants and a black tank top he stole off of Andy’s dresser. He hastily dove back under Lykon’s heated blanket.

In the middle of the couch, swaddled in blankets and eating soup, Nile and Booker were looking much more alive. The color returned to their cheeks, intensifying as Nicky began to scold them.

“Booker, what the fuck were you thinking?” he demanded.

“I don’t know! You said to distract Nile, and she wanted to have a snowball fight. So I said yes!”

“Why didn’t you just go to the park?”

“I thought driving out to the mountain pass would buy you guys more time. It was a bad idea. I’m sorry.”

“You could have died, Book! Just because we’re immortal doesn’t mean we can play with our lives like that. Not to mention, you put Nile in danger!”

Quynh sat up, reaching for Nicky’s hands. She swiped her thumbs over his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Hey, lay off him, would you? They’ve had a tough night.”

“But what if-”

“No what-ifs, Nicky. It’s alright. They’re safe. Now put the rest of that soup down and come here.”

Nicky sighed in secret gratitude. This was not a night he wanted to be left to follow his thoughts. “Fine.”

He squeezed onto the futon between Quynh and Nile, accepting the blanket Andy threw over him. He wrapped his arms around Nile, who snuggled closer.

“Nicky?” she mumbled after a moment.

“Hmm?”

“If you’re not still angry, can I ask you a question?”

Nicky pulled back to look at her. “Sorellina, I’m so sorry. I was never angry at you. Nor at Booker, really. Just a bit worried.”

“Yeah,” Joe piped up from the other end of the couch. “He gets mean when he’s scared.”

“I am not mean,” Nicky insisted. “Nile, what was it you wanted to ask?”

“Why did Booker say you wanted him to distract me? Distract me from what?”

Lykon laughed. “Should we tell her, Nicky, or do we plan to try again tomorrow?”

“We lost the tree, so I think we should just tell her,” Joe voted sleepily.

“You just don’t want to carry another tree,” Booker accused.

“Easy for you to say!” Quynh jumped in. “Next time, I’ll distract her, and you can walk a mile in the snow with plastic pine needles in your face.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Andy said, lips twitching. “No more attempts. Jesus wasn’t actually born on this day, anyway. I was there.”

Nicky blinked at her, and then rapidly shook his head to clear it. He looked at Nile. “We were trying to surprise you with a Christmas party. Remember last Thursday, when you were telling us how your family celebrated it back home?”

“Yeah.”

“We wanted to recreate all the same traditions. We got a tree, and some ornaments, and stockings with your initials on it, and, uh…”

“Presents! And that Christmas music you like,” Joe added.

“Yes, and Nicky was going to make cookies shaped like reindeer,” Quynh said.

“Also,” Lykon pointed to a folded-up tripod in the corner, “we were going to take family photos in our sweaters and put them on postcards. Copley said we can’t send them to anyone, but we could still make some.”

Booker sighed. “Sorry I ruined it, Nile. I thought- wait, are you crying?!”

Nile sniffled, turning away from Booker to tuck her face under the blanket. “No.”

“Oh, honey,” Quynh cooed. We can still do it all tomorrow, if you want…”

“It’s not that,” Nile croaked. “It’s just- You guys did all that just to surprise me?”

“It’s nothing,” Nicky assured. “Well, it’s really nothing now, but even if everything had gone according to plan, it still wouldn’t have been any trouble. It’s your first Christmas with us, and we wanted it to be memorable.”

“You’re the best,” Nile said, voice choked with emotions. “All of you. And this is the best Christmas Eve ever. Thank you.”

“Hush,” Andy smirked. “In this house, we show gratitude by not dying unnecessarily.”

“Oh, that was all Booker’s fault,” Nile countered smoothly. “I would have been content with a snowball fight in the park.”

“Really loving the underside of this bus,” Booker muttered as the others laughed.

Over the next hour, the lighthearted conversation drifted into sleepy silence. By the time Nicky thought to ask who would turn off the lights, Joe was only half-pretending to be fast asleep.

[lucysweatslove]

02.20.2022 // 2.5 mi snowy walk with Oreo

After Oreo’s escape yesterday, I realized that with all the snow and “bad weather,” I’ve been keeping him inside when he might want to go explore.

Today I saw it was about 38F when I woke up and thought, what a beautiful day for a walk! Husband said to me, “it looks like it’s snowing out front a bit. You and Oreo should wear coats.” With the temp above freezing I thought it wouldn’t last. After all, the snow in our backyard was melted, so naturally the snow should also be melted on the trails surrounding our neighborhood!

Yeah, no.

The first maybe quarter mile to the trails was fine- Oreo did lots of snuffs, potties, and kicky feets, kicking off his boots and requiring stops to fix them. The initial trail section near the neighborhood was okay. The bit of snow was not ideal but Oreo didn’t mind it. But then it got much, much worse.

Not only were the little trail near the (frozen) creek icy to the point I eventually had to stick to the neighborhood sidewalks, but by the time we were at our furthest distance from home, that little bit of snow turned into a moderate snow, and the 38F weather made it wet and sticky. It got all over me, all over Oreo, and just STUCK. I was slipping around all over the place. OREO was slipping around. At one point I had to penguin waddle to get to back to the road because the trails were so icy and I could barely see through my glasses. I wanted to pick Oreo up and hold him in my jacket to keep him warm, but I was holding both of our water bottles and couldn’t hold everything at once.

My hair became matted with wet, half melted snow which dripped for ten minutes after getting home, and Oreo’s little coconut is still wet.

Anyway, I do not recommend, and I cannot wait until spring time is officially here. But, Oreo seemed to enjoy himself for the first mile and a half or so 😅

Edited at 9:30 PM to add my 15 min restorative yoga