Thanks for tagging me @whatsintheboxmh! I don’t have many fics but figured I’d contribute!
We can make it out (right?)
Nancy didn’t expect to have her hands sticky with her boyfriend’s blood.
Mateo didn’t expect to be bleeding out in a warehouse fire.
They both didn’t expect an asteroid to be hurtling towards Austin
A season 5b spec fic based on the promo and injured Mateo
Sprinkles of Joy
Day 1: Baking || Vanilla, sprinkles, and chocolate flavored kisses.
Mateo and Nancy are tasked with making the cookies for the 126 winter party. It can’t be that hard, right?
….Right?
A Frigid Swim
Day 2: Frozen Lake || Cold hands, Scarves, and Snow.
The 126 aren’t allowed around frozen lakes anymore.
Soup and Blankets
Day 6 - Blanket Fort || Fluffy pillows, movies, and snacks
Day 7 - Catching a cold || Tissues, savory soup, and cuddles.
Mateo was supposed to be enjoying his off day. Instead he feels like utter shit.
At least you’re in a hospital
Marjan loved her brothers. But they weren’t allowed to be alone together anymore.
Or
TK and Mateo get trapped in an abandoned hospital.
I try every time but I can’t seem to catch you
Time is a fickle thing. You think you have so much of it for both yourself and the people you love but often that can come crashing down. Very rarely do people get a warning the day their world collapses. Unfortunately Mateo Chavez did not get that luxury.
The timeloop fic
No pressure tagging anyone who wants to share their creative round up including fics, art, gifs, whatever, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @shes-an-oddbird, @vulcanmourns, @she-walked-away, @guardian-angle22, @paperstorm @rangersoup @nisbanisba @tailoredshirt @ladytessa74 @bonheur-cafe @iinryer @firstprince-history-huh @thisbuildinghasfeelings
if someone already posted and are tagged in this, I deeply apologize, I most likely did not see it
Breakfast, like most meals with the Bridgertons, was an informal affair, even two days before Christmas.
Not a soul at the table bothered to keep their elbows off of its surface, and young Gregory had not seen fit to do so much as drag a comb through his hair before descending from his bedroom, and Benedict’s chair was drawn close enough to yours to be improper, even for a husband and wife. There was something about retiring to Aubrey Hall for the winter that seemed to make every one of you relax, the stress and etiquette of the summer season left behind in London. In the two years that you had been married to Benedict, you had grown to look forward to the colder months and the safe haven they promised.
"Has anyone seen Hyacinth this morning? It’s not like her to be so late for breakfast,” Violet Bridgerton commented over her cup of tea.
“I saw her with her cloak on as we were coming down the staircase,” you replied, turning your head to your husband, “Isn't that right?”
Benedict nodded. “It’s a lovely morning. Perhaps she was going for a walk before breakfast.”
The question of the whereabouts of the youngest Bridgerton was answered moments later, however, when Hyacinth herself burst into the breakfast parlour, bringing with her the cold air from outside and an air of utter excitement. Before anyone could comment on her arrival, she announced:
“The lake is frozen! It’s finally frozen!”
For a split second, there was silence, then the room burst into sound and movement. Chairs were scraped back from the table with little regard for the impact on the floor, cups of tea were hastily drained and slammed down on the table as people made their way to the door, and the Bridgerton siblings began talking so quickly that you could barely follow what they were saying. Anthony was saying something about knowing exactly where they were kept- whatever they were- and Colin was promising his sisters that he would not behave in the manner which he had five years ago- you had no idea what had happened five years ago- whilst Gregory was bouncing excitedly on the spot. Laughing in confusion, you caught your husband by the elbow as he made for the door.
“Why does the lake being frozen mean that breakfast is over so suddenly?” you asked curiously. Benedict grinned.
“That lake hasn't frozen in four years,” he told you, “We’re going skating!”
You felt a thrill of child-like excitement shoot through your veins at his words and suddenly you understood why your brothers- and sisters-in law had reacted in such a manner. As a grin to match his spread across your face, you found yourself being swept along in the preparations for going skating. Thick cloaks and warm gloves and scarves were donned, word was sent to the kitchens to prepare hot soup and boiling water for baths, and Violet Bridgerton stood at the door to wave you all on your way down to the lake, smiling affectionately at the happiness that was tangible in the frozen air.
The grounds of Aubrey Hall were picturesque in summer but they were breathtaking in winter. The snow that had fallen overnight was a soft white blanket on the ground, casting a chilly hush over the world, and the pale blue sky was flawless. As you walked, your breath turned into frosty clouds. Up ahead, you could see Anthony and Colin walking with several pairs of ice skates- the kind which a person could tie onto the soles of their own shoes- hanging over their shoulders by their laces and, further ahead, Gregory and Hyacinth were throwing snowballs at each other and squealing with glee. A smile tugged at your lips and only grew when an oh-so-familiar arm looped through yours.
“Have you ever skated before, my love?” Benedict asked you.
“I have, but not since I was a child,” you admitted, “You may have to hold my hand.”
“What a terrible burden for me,” he replied cheekily, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he slipped his hand into yours to reassure you that he was merely jesting. Drawing you close into his side without breaking his stride or yours, he pressed his lips to your temple. “I won’t let you fall.”
When your party reached the banks of the lake, you found yourself mesmerised by the sight of it. It was like a great mirror, reflecting the periwinkle sky without so much as a ripple with the water frozen beneath its surface. The feeling of a hand on your ankle made you jump in surprise and you looked down to see your husband grinning up at you as he crouched before you, a pair of ice skates dangling from his hand. Realising what he was doing, you let him lift first your right foot and then your left to carefully tie the skating blades to your boots, checking that they were secure before standing and helping you to balance. Looking down, you saw that he had already tied on his own skates.
The other Bridgerton siblings, clearly more frequent skaters than you, were already out on the lake. Colin and Gregory were racing each other at breakneck speed, Anthony and Daphne were skating side-by-side and arm-in-arm at a leisurely pace, and the three youngest girls seemed to be pretending to be ballerinas on ice. You clung to Benedict’s arm with both hands as the two of you edged out onto the lake, and he chuckled softly at you.
“I have an idea,” he said, and your eyes widened in panic as he moved away from your side before you could stop him.
“I’ll fall!”
He quickly took your hands in his and held you steady as he moved to stand facing you, his eyes reassuring as you found your balance.
“I told you that I won't let that happen,” he reminded you, “Haven't I always kept my promises as a husband?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, “You have.”
“Then I shall keep this one too.”
Your grip on his hands tightened as soon as he began to move backwards, taking you with him, but he was quick to murmur reassuring words to you. After only a few minutes, you were skating along with only the occasional stumble as he guided you. It was difficult to remember to be afraid of falling when you had him to look at, his cheeks flushed red with the cold and round with the grin that he hadn't taken off all day, his eyes brimming with pride as you found your confidence on the ice. Even as he slowly released your hands from his to make you realise that you could skate without leaning on him, you trusted that he would not let you fall.
“I understand now why we had to miss breakfast for this,” you commented, and Benedict’s answering laughter created a blooming white cloud in the air as he turned neatly to link his arm with yours.
“I’ve always loved skating when we come here, but it is undoubtedly more lovely with you here too,” he murmured, “Perhaps, next Christmas, there will even be one more Bridgerton in our party.”
The two of you glided to a gentle stop and you lifted your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself as you pressed a light kiss to his reddened nose. Undeniable adoration was written all over his face as you pulled away, his mind and heart clearly filled with the thought of the two of you having a baby to bring to Aubrey Hall for Christmas, and you opened your mouth to tell him.
A shrill scream cut through the air before you could speak, however, and both of your heads snapped in its direction.
The bottom of your stomach felt as though it had given way as you stared in horror at where, just moments before, Francesca and Hyacinth had been skating near the middle of the lake, and where Francesca now stood alone next to a dark hole in the ice. Before you had a chance to do anything except clap your hand to your mouth in fear, Benedict was off skating like a bullet to his sister’s aid; you followed at a more cautious pace, holding your hands out to Francesca who stumbled across the ice towards you and fell into your arms with a terrified sob. You held her head to your chest and watched in terror as Benedict dropped to his knees by the hole in the ice, plunging his arms into the obsidian water without a moment's hesitation. You were barely aware of the other Bridgertons skating to a halt beside you, a few metres back from where the ice was thinnest, all of you holding your collective breath as time ticked by and Hyacinth still did not surface.
All of a sudden, Benedict threw himself back from the edge of the ice and you noticed with a gasp that he was clutching a pale arm in his hand. Anthony raced forward to help him and, between the two of them, they dragged a dripping wet, coughing Hyacinth from the water. Relief flooded your veins as Anthony scooped her into his arms; she was undoubtedly freezing but her eyes were open and she was alive. You all turned to head back in the direction of the house, all thoughts of skating abandoned in favour of plans to get Hyacinth warm and dry and well.
It was only a few seconds later that you heard the sickening crack! of ice giving way beneath a person’s weight and turned to see your husband vanishing into the freezing black water.
“Benedict!” you screamed in horror.
Without thinking, you lurched forward to where he had fallen through the ice; to do what, exactly, you weren't sure. You knew in your mind that you would never manage to reach him and haul him out of the water, but you knew in your heart that you would throw yourself in after him before letting him drown. Before you could take another step, however, Francesca and Daphne’s hands closed around your arms and held fast to stop you.
“You’ll fall in yourself!” Eloise told you in your ear as she stood in front of you to block your path, and you knew that she was right.
Hot tears streamed down your cold cheeks as you watched Colin quickly shedding his coat and boots before diving through the hole in the ice in search of his older brother. His sisters wrapped their arms around you and hugged you fiercely as you sobbed in terror, your worst fear that your beloved husband was dead increasing with every second that went by with neither Benedict nor Colin resurfacing. You were dimly aware that Anthony had carried on back to the house to get Hyacinth out of the cold and doubtlessly to send for a doctor.
It wasn't until Daphne cradled your head to her shoulder and shushed you gently that you realised you had been desperately whispering Benedict’s name over and over, like a prayer.
It seemed like hours later that your prayer was answered as Colin broke the surface with a gasp for air, his arm around Benedict’s neck as he struggled to haul himself and his brother out of the water. Somehow he managed it, and you heard yourself scream again as he lifted your husband’s limp body over his shoulder, water falling from both men like rain as he set off at a run across the lake towards the house.
You barely noticed the journey back to the house, your eyes taking in nothing but Benedict’s blue skin and seemingly lifeless face. It did not occur to you to marvel at the way Colin was managing to carry his brother- a grown man and the tallest of the Bridgertons- over his shoulder after having been submerged in icy water himself, nor did it occur to you to notice that in the short time that you had all been outside the servants had decorated the house with great amounts of festive greenery and candles.
You had no memory of following them up the stairs to your bedroom nor of how Benedict was gotten into bed. You did remember that, whilst Colin ushered his sisters from the room in order to get Benedict out of his wet clothes, Anthony attempted to get you to leave too; you could not have been sure of what it was you said in response, but he did not dare to ask you to leave again.
Servants darted in and out of the room to build up the fire until the room was swelteringly warm and blankets upon blankets were piled on Benedict; still, he did not wake. Tears continued to spill from your eyes as you sat on the floor by his bed, his frozen hand clutched in both of yours, your lips pressed to his skin as though the tiny amount of warmth they provided might save him. If it hadn't been for the horrible blue tinge to his skin, he might have been simply sleeping.
The arrival of the doctor- an elderly, portly man with snowy white hair- went completely unnoticed by you. Anthony spoke with him in hushed tones and you caught the occasional word, enough to piece together that Hyacinth was cold and frightened but otherwise well and not in need of medical attention. It wasn't until the doctor knocked your hand away none too gently from where it had rested on Benedict’s cheek that you even looked at the man.
He did not speak to you at all as he examined your husband, testing his temperature and his pulse and looking at his limbs for reasons you did not understand. He made the occasional comment to Anthony who lingered by your dressing table but did not look at you, and eventually your patience wore thin.
“Please tell me that my husband will live,” you pleaded.
Finally, the doctor looked at you, an exasperated expression on his face.
“Mrs Bridgerton, your husband will not be cured by his wife hovering by his side and getting in my way,” he told you sharply, and your mouth dropped open in shock at being spoken to so rudely. Tears welled in your eyes and you struggled to find words.
Luckily, Anthony found them for you.
“Have a care how you speak, sir,” he said firmly, “My brother will not tolerate his wife being spoken to in such a tone.”
The doctor’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But your brother is unconscious, my lord.”
“Very observant, doctor. I, however, am in perfect health, so allow me to correct myself.” Anthony took a single menacing step towards the older man. “I will not tolerate my dear sister-in-law being spoken to in such a tone. Do I make myself clear now?”
It was all you could do to send your brother-in-law a weak look of gratitude as the doctor stumbled through an apology and left the room. As soon as the door shut behind the horrid man, you returned your hand to its place on your husband's cheek. Anthony knelt wordlessly at the other side of the bed to you and took Benedict’s other hand in his.
“He can’t die, Anthony,” you whispered, all the fight gone from your voice, “Not now.”
“If I know my brother half as well as I ought to, I know that he would never leave you alone in this world,” he told you, his tone as firm as it had been when he addressed the doctor but with the brotherly love he felt for you softening it. You choked out a sob at his words.
“I...I would not quite be alone.”
He frowned at you in confusion. “I don't understand.”
Silently, you let your hand drop to rest on your belly and waited for the penny to drop; Anthony’s eyes widened when it did. Happiness and sadness fought for dominance on his face as he processed what you were telling him and how much more devastating his brother's death would be in light of your revelation. You did not mind that he did not congratulate you; you could hardly find it within yourself to be happy about your secret when you no longer knew if you would ever get to share it with Benedict. You had planned to tell him on Christmas morning.
You should have told him as soon as you found out.
Eventually, Anthony rose from his spot and came to kneel beside you with his arm around your shoulders.
“He can't die,” he agreed quietly.
There was nothing else to say.
________________________________
When you awoke the next morning to Benedict staring at you, his head on the same pillow as yours, you thought that you were hallucinating.
You had fallen asleep clinging to him desperately, your hand on his belly just to feel it rising and falling with his ragged breathing to reassure yourself that he was still alive. Part of you had been terrified of falling asleep for fear that he would not be when you awoke.
“My love,” he whispered, and you knew that you were not dreaming.
A sob of pure relief burst from your lips and you launched yourself into his arms, pressing kisses to every patch of skin you could reach on his face. He lifted his arms to hold you, but you pulled away as soon as he began to cough and helped him to sit upright against the pillows. As soon as he had caught his breath, a panicked expression came over his face.
“Is Hyacinth alright?” he asked urgently.
“Hyacinth is fine, my darling,” you reassured him, “She is worried about you. We’ve all been worried about you. I...I thought you were going to leave us alone.”
“Never,” Benedict whispered fiercely, his pale cheeks colouring with the effort it took to speak, “I would never leave you.”
“You must promise me,” you told him, “Especially now.”
Confusion etched itself into his face. “I promise...but what do you mean, especially now?”
You took a deep breath; waiting until Christmas morning was no longer necessary. You had nearly lost him, and you would not make him wait a second longer to know.
“I’m with child, Benedict,” you confessed.
All of a sudden, the life returned to his face. There was no trace of the man from the previous day who had looked as though he might not live to see morning; in his place was a man who had just discovered a new level of happiness. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he cupped your face, searching your eyes for any sign that you were joking, and the tears fell freely when he found no such sign.
“Oh, my love,” he breathed, drawing you into his arms and holding you against his chest, “Oh, my beautiful, darling love.”
You giggled at his babbling, nestling your face in the crook of his neck and delighting in the way that the warmth had returned to his skin.
“I am the happiest man alive,” he told you, and you drew back to cup his cheek.
“And I am the happiest woman that you are alive at all,” you replied, pressing your lips to his, “I am never letting you go ice skating again.”
He chuckled. “We shall be far too busy to go skating next year.”
You smiled knowingly. “We’ll have a child.”
“A child,” he repeated in awe, his hand pressing to your abdomen through your nightgown, “I fear that my Christmas gift for you will be somewhat overshadowed now by what you have already given me.”
You beamed at him and kissed him softly.
“I have all I need, right here with you.”
A/N: I really hope you enjoyed this! Comments would mean so much to me. I hope you're having a wonderful day and staying lovely and cosy xx
Day 5 - Fire Places || Fuzzy socks, soft rugs, and hands intertwined.
Pairing: Ardeth Bay x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Lots of yearning. Implied smut.
Words: 1526
A/N: Believe me, I am more surprised than you that I wrote for this character again. P.S. 'gamela' means pretty or beautiful.
You couldn’t help but stare at him as the night went on. He was almost otherworldly, the way he spoke, the way he moved, even the slightest facial expressions in reaction to something John was doing. You have never met someone who was simultaneously so simple yet so interesting in your life before, which was telling, considering how often you traveled across the world.
When he arrived earlier in the evening, you were reminded of all of the feelings you spent months setting aside out of respect for his culture and religion. He was much more vibrant than the last time you saw him just outside the city of Karnak. And as much as you wished to ignore him, to pretend he wasn’t there and that you didn’t see him for almost half a year, you couldn’t. There were only a few acquaintances that arrived as early as him and you didn’t want him to think that he was no longer welcome among your family. Evie would kill you if she got so much as an inclination of what you felt for the man.
So you swallowed your feelings and pride, and tried to speak with him enough to not make it seem weird. You could swear there was something different about the way he was speaking with you, perhaps even looking at you, but you blamed the few glasses of wine you already went through. When the Christmas party reached its peak, you grew tired of socializing and quietly grabbed another glass of wine and walked towards one of the corners of the room, making sure to tell Alex not to whisper of your whereabouts to his parents should they ask him where you were hiding.
But that was not the only reason why you hid behind one of the bookshelves.
From where you were standing, you had the perfect view of the Medjai. You couldn’t believe how easily you forgot the aura about him. Seeing him around a handful of people was one thing, but seeing him in his dark, black cloaks that juxtaposed perfectly with the multitudes around him made him all the more fascinating, the more special. It shouldn’t have surprised you. He had the blood of the old gods running in his veins. His mere existence showed the majesty of the ancient civilization.
It was very clear, though, that you weren’t the only one longing to be near him. The attention he was receiving was justified and you couldn’t take it anymore, envious of how easily everyone else spoke with him when you only tensed at the sight of him.
Making sure that no one would miss your presence, you quietly made your way up the stairs into the private living rooms overlooking the gardens of the estate. A shiver ran down your spine and you reluctantly walked away from the balcony back towards the fireplace. It was moments like this when you missed Egypt. The fire may have always been put out by the winds of the desert but they managed to connect you to another time and place that old England could never aspire to do.
“You are not enjoying the party?” A deep voice pulls you away from your nostalgic thoughts and you turn around quickly to face the man, barely managing to hold back from gasping when you saw his cloaks flutter behind him as he approached you. Reluctantly, you moved away from the heat as soon as he stood in front of it, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to take being this close to him and not being able to know him the way you’ve desired ever since the two of you met.
“I- I don’t do well with crowds. And I suspect you don’t either.” The comment slipped from your lips before you can stop yourself and you stepped closer to him while holding out your hand just as he began to chuckle at your declaration. “Forgive me, sir, I didn’t mean to insult you. I just-” You try to backtrack from your previous words but the ruler of the medjai shakes his head and turns away from you.
You can’t help but admire his features as the fire shadows swim across them. The man was stunning, in every sense of the word. But there was something intimate about the tattoos across his handsome face being highlighted by the dancing flames, as if they were etched there by the fires of Osiris and Horus. You couldn’t look away from him. He was so approachable now, existing in a space that was held by your presence alone.
“Why do you continue to call me with such titles even after I’ve begged you to not do so? Is it so- so different from this land’s names that you cannot bear to say it? Or do you truly consider us as nothing more than acquaintances?”
The sudden outburst causes your eyes to widen in shock, mostly because you’ve known the man to always have strong control over himself, even in his moments of severe anger.
“It’s, umm- it’s out of respect? As I understand it, the Ruler of the Medjai held a high level of authority in the ancient world. I do not wish for you to think that I do not respect and understand your position just because we are in this modern civilization. As for being acquaintances, I- I thought…or I was told that you do not try to mix with someone like me, which I completely understand. It- please, know that it was never my intention to offend you.” You aren’t sure when the two of you ended up standing a foot away from each other but one minute you’re offering your apologies, and the next thing you know, the man in front of you closes the space and reaches out to touch your hair.
You’re not sure how you should react and you hold your breath when he leans down and takes a long whiff of your scent. You wish you could do the same with his beautiful, long locks but you remember that it might be offensive to be so forward so you hold back from mirroring his actions.
“Have you any idea what you do to me woman?” The question is whispered and it’s the only thing you need to hear to finally reach out and touch his hand.
“My name, say my name gamela. I want to hear you sing my name in that bewitching voice of yours.” You make the mistake of looking into his eyes as he orders you to whisper his name to him.
What you find in his eyes is terrifying.
It’s the same that’s in yours whenever you’re studying him.
“Ardeth…Ardeth please.”
It’s all you need to say for the semblance of control to finally snap. You don’t have time to react as he pushes you down underneath him atop the soft rugs adorning the floors and covers you with his body. He’s much warmer than you, and you aren’t sure if it’s because he was standing near the fire or because he feels this heated from the brief interaction. You can’t find it in yourself to care. Before you can say anything, Ardeth descends down on you, not caring for how animalistic he’s being as he raises the dress from around your thighs and nestles himself in between your legs. He makes sure to cover you with his robes, and you silently thank him for wanting to keep some form of your virtue from wandering eyes should you get caught.
As your arms wrap around him, Ardeth growls into the kiss and takes hold of both of your wrists, slamming them harshly against the ground before sliding his palms up to your hands and intertwining your fingers together. You gasp at the intimacy of the moment and regret it almost immediately when he sneaks his tongue into your mouth and claims you. His weight on top of you shouldn’t feel this glorious and comforting, and yet it is.
Even after he stripes you of your clothes and claims your body.
Even after his hands roam across your skin as if he, and only he, had the right to your body.
Even after he whispered his eternal love to you as he filled you with his essence over and over again.
But you find that it all makes sense, every little thing your mind and body and soul felt towards this man made sense. The way you seem to feel connected to an ancient past the more he draws shapes across your heated skin makes this otherworldly experience come forward and explain what you’re feeling.
As he wraps you in his arms and kisses every inch he can reach, you finally come to understand what all of these emotions came to be.
You’re in love with him.
And even though you thought you’d be afraid of admitting it, you aren’t.
In fact, you find that you don’t have an issue completely losing yourself in him, completely giving yourself up to him.
The thought is comforting. This burning fire was comforting.
Jul! It's ok if you have something else planned, but the second I read Day 23's prompt I immediately got nervous Bucky vibes planning a proposal. You can totally ignore this if you're not feeling it. Love this challenge and reading your pieces! xxx
Forever
A/N: Shannon! I'm sorry this is a little late, but since you requested it I wanted it to be perfect! So Merry Christmas I guess lol 🎁 and Happy New Year as well! I really hope you like this, and I hope you are enjoying your holidays 💖💖
Day 23 - Proposal || Nerves, candles, and a tasty meal.
December Writing Challenge!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count: 1k words
It wasn't weird for Bucky to ask you to go up to the roof of your building, many nights have passed with you and Bucky up there. When the world gets too much, and when you want to escape, the always empty roof of your apartment was the perfect place for it after a hard day of work.
This time, however, it was strange.
Bucky usually texts you a quick invitation to see him there, maybe to grab something to eat when you go up, but this time he only offered you his hand when he approached you with a quick kiss.
"Let's go up." He invited you with a smile and shining eyes, just a few minutes after he got home.
"Are you sure, Buck? It's freezing today, it snowed all day." His eyes looked around the room for an answer, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. Something was bothering him, running around his mind. "Hey, are you alright?" You stood up, ignoring his hand and caressing his strong shoulders instead.
The worried look in your eyes made him let out a huff of a laugh, a grin adorning his face. "I'm good, doll, don't worry. I just- I-" Bucky stuttered, his shaky hands looking for yours.
"Okay, yeah," Standing on your tiptoes, you kissed his lips softly. You got it, with his incomplete phrases and his fidgeting fingers: he needed the quiet of the night sky. "Let's go up."
It was a quiet climb up the stairs. Bucky kept stealing glances of you, quivering breaths leaving his lips every few steps. You could only be there for him, with your thumb caressing his hand and shooting him a kind smile.
Once you got to the top, Bucky reached for the handle of the roof door and stopped there, just for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath.
"Bucky, are you alri-?" Your question was cut short when he opened the door, revealing twinkling lights and candles lighting up the atmosphere of the usually dark space, making the snow-covered floor shine like glitter. "What- Bucky, what is this?"
He let out a sigh when you looked at him, his blue eyes looking like the night sky reflecting every light on them. There was a knot forming in your stomach when you saw the way he was looking at you, like there was nothing else in the world; and for him, there wasn't.
Bucky's hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together and walking you towards the center of the roof. His feet followed a path of candles, sure of every step and squeezing your hand every couple of steps he took even with the snow that had fallen earlier.
"I wanted to make something magical for you because you..." He sighed shakily just as his voice sounded, bringing your attention away from the thousands of lights around you and back to him. "You mean the world to me, y/n. You are every reason I have to keep fighting and to be better, to wake up and to go to sleep. You make me so, so happy, like nothing in this universe has ever had."
"Bucky..." His name came out of your lips in a trembling voice. The cold December air and all the emotions that Bucky was making you feel teaming up to make you quiver. You wanted to say something, anything, but the way his eyes were looking at you, shining like a thousand galaxies, had stolen every thought away from your brain.
"I feel like I've lived so many different lives, and on so many times I have felt like I have lost everything, but I know I haven't because every time here you are..." Bucky's voice got trapped in his throat with emotion. Your hand reached up to cup his face, trying to ease him caressing his cheek as you always did. His hands did the same, cleaning away a tear from your cheek. "It doesn't matter how dark or how hard things get, you are always there to bring me back, to show me how much you love me and how much you care for me. And I love you for that, so damn much."
"I love you too." You whispered, your voice choking up as happiness flooded your eyes.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you in it to make it better, and wanted to start the next year with the promise of having you by my side. So... darling..." Bucky's eyes locked with yours, and after one last sigh, it felt like his heart had stopped racing. You did that to him, reassure him, making him know that with you he had everything under control; that is why he couldn't spend the rest of his life not having you by his side. Bucky got on one knee, your hands trapped in his as he took out a black velvet box from his jacket. "...Would you marry me?"
Your nodding head, quickly moving up and down, made him smile up at you. A choked-up yes left your lips, one that made you both chuckle. But then, as his fingers slid the ring up to your knuckles, you were suddenly overcome with peace. It was meant to be, you knew it in every way.
"Bucky this is... this is perfect." You spoke, looking at the ring as he stood up. He cupped your cheeks, kissing you slowly and feeling your smile against his lips. The chilly winter air made his nose feel cold against yours, nudging your own as he deepened the kiss. You clung to his jacket, not letting him move away from you. Even with the cold around you, everything you could feel was the warmth of Bucky's love for you. He was your entire future, a second more being apart from him was impossible now.
You both pulled apart, taking in a deep breath and not able to stop smiling and giggling as you did.
"We are going to get married!" Your obvious statement, full of joy as it was as your teary eyes met his, made Bucky pull your face back to his to kiss you. "I love you, Bucky. So much, forever." You spoke in between kisses, feeling his stubble against your fingertips as you held his face close to yours.
"I love you too, dollface." His lips pulled away quickly, just to dip back down to your lips again after. "Forever." It was a promise, just between you and the winter stars.
Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!
Poe Dameron x pregnant!wife!reader. ( Kinda Modern AU)
General Audiences. Orangey rating.
A.N. and Warnings. Pregnancy, baby-making and things related to the aforementioned subject, including being on the heavier side, which is mildly used in a comedic context. No shaming, because pregnancy is a beautiful state of being. No shaming in the comments either, please. Not comfortable with that, do not read, please for both our sakes. Poe is still a General at the Resistance Base, but this is not really Stars Wars universe based. You could read it as such if you wanna. Yes, the mudroom/bathroom/laundryroom is an actual room in my brother’s house and it’s awesome and I think more people should invest in that and it worked perfectly for this fic, so I included it. Sewing and knitting and homemaking in general. Don’t like don’t read. If you do like, please read! Soft-married couple banter. Fluff. Lots of napping. Reader ain’t really described, so almost free for all.
You're huffing and you're puffing and you swear the house wants to collapse right on top of you every single time you attempt to get up, only to dramatically fall back on your tushy and cause an earthquake. By the sixth try, you simply gave up. Your husband should be returning from work sometime this year and frankly, you could use a nap, even if it is on the floor. Being 8 months pregnant tends to kick all the energy out of you. The easily-excited mini human growing in your womb definitely doesn't help with the amount of times he sends you rushing to the bathroom every time he decides to handstand on your bladder. At the moment though, thank you Lord, he (or she) appears to be calm, still moving around, but less like a hyper dolphin and more like a tranquil elephant for once.
You grab whatever pillows you can off the couch, throw 'em on the floor and fall asleep as soon as your head hits the sack.
He' s so tired. Scratch that, he's exhausted! Poe's had to deal with a malfunctioning helicopter, one rookie pilot stealing a plane for a joy ride, another rookie crashing a jet into one of the hangars, two of his captains mysteriously disappearing at the same time and coming back hours later with very visible hickeys littering, well, everywhere and a visiting General came to ask for planes and decided to harrass Poe's own secretary, treated Poe as an insubordinate lackey instead of an equal ranking General, whined about the size of the planes, drove two of Poe's best mechanics to tears, demanded planes and jets that Poe simply does not have and blamed his noisy indigestion on the base's coffee which he absolutely did not touched because he quote-unquote "never drinks the same stuff as peasants do."
Poe swears under his breath at the awful memory. " Fucking jerk."
He enters the house through the mudroom/bathroom/laundryroom backdoor, stripping and taking a quick shower to wash away the grime and grease and sweat of the day from his skin. He half-expected you to pop in and join him, but he also half-expects you to be napping in bed. At this point, it's a fifty/fifty chance. He's absolutely thrilled at becoming a father, but it tugs at his heartstings in a painful way whenever he sees you having trouble bending over to pick something up, or he hears you groan when the baby pushes on something he or she shouldn't have, or when he catches you napping, your body needing the time to heal from the stress of growing a healthy little human inside of you. He's in awe at your strength, but he helps when and where he can. Sometimes, that means he makes supper when he returns from work. Sometimes that means he comes home to you crying because ' I'm not sure I can do this Poe! Am I ready to be a mom? Oh Lord, what if I'm a terrible mother and our baby ends up hating me!' and he holds you for hours on end until the panic has passed and your anxieties are soothed. And sometimes that means that he has to massage your whole body after a long, warm bath. Poe briskly dries off and slips on the pair of soft blue-grey linen pants that you'd sewn for him when you first got married. You always make sure to have a fresh pair of pants on the counter beside the shower ready for him to get home. Not because he asked you to, he didn't, but because you want to. Bonus points for you, because you adamantly refuse to give him a shirt too, leaving his chest in plain view for you to enjoy.
Poe heads to the kitchen, you're not there.
Poe looks in your master bedroom, no you on the bed, no you rifling in the closet.
You're not in the bathroom, the basement or the pantry.
He does not find you in the office room, pinging away at tax invoices and God-forsaken bills and other hellish things that no one ever wants to deal with. Thank God for that, he'd shoot himself if you ever got close to doing paperwork when you're 8 months pregnant.
He finally finds you, sprawled on the floor in the living room, sleeping. At first he thinks something is wrong and he freaks out for a few seconds. Then he hears the unmistakable sound of you snoring. His resulting smile could warm the dark side of the world. He decides to leave you alone for a few more minutes while he scrounges up some dinner.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
You awaken to your dearest husband lovingly caressing your cheek and calling out your name.
" Poe!" You sleepily exclaim. " You're home!"
He smirks back. " Yeah, and you're on the floor!"
You giggle. " My knitting needle fell down and rolled under the couch. I couldn't get back up! Your son is too heavy!"
Poe gets a little worried. "You could've called. I know you can reach the phone from the floor!"
" Ah, it's fine, I needed the nap anyways."
Your husband tugs you up and shoos you in the direction of the bathroom, freshly washed curls bouncing in time with his nods. " Hurry up, then we'll have a movie night, complete with your favourite film, popcorn for supper and a mattress on the floor!"
He forgot all about his work troubles after that. And you decided to plan up other ways to get more wonderful date nights like this with your wonderful spouse.
Aeryn’s Dec Writing Challenge Day 28 - Huddle for Warmth || Warm bodies, steady breaths, and comforting feelings.
Dialogue prompts: “You’re freezing!” “Is this the part where we kiss?”
Joel Miller x gn!reader
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: pining, slight canon typical action/violence, briefly fighting infected, two idiots in love, kissing, feelings confession, protective!Joel, huddling for warmth, no use of y/n
Notes: Though this fic is not explicit, my blog remains strictly 18+ so please do not read or interact if you are a minor. Written for Aeryn’s December writing challenge and this prompt is PERFECT for Joel! I really loved writing this one! Feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates
~
“You ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Joel gave you a soft smile and a reassuring pat on your shoulder, “You’ll be fine. You’re a damn good shot and I’ll be with you every step.”
The warmth from his hand on your shoulder went right to your chest and you felt your heart skip a beat. You smiled back at him as you gave him a short nod in response. Satisfied with that, Joel let you go and turned back to gather the rest of his weapons as you did the same. While you cocked your gun and loaded up your crossbow, you found that you missed the comfort of his touch, and you swallowed hard as you forced yourself not to glance over at him.
Your feelings for Joel had been growing for months now, yet you didn’t say a word. After you arrived in Jackson as part of a traveling group, you decided to stay and settle while your friends moved on. You offered to join in on the partols as your way of thanking Maria and the rest for letting you stay, and Joel took you under his wing and showed you everything he knew. You already knew how to handle yourself, having been on the road for a long time, but Joel helped you perfect your competence with other weapons and gave you new tricks and pointers.
In the time you spent with him, you fell completely in love with Joel. You were careful to never let it show, but every time he stood near you, your heart raced. Every time he placed his hand over yours to help your aim, your breath caught in your throat. Every time he said your name, you felt like the world spun around you. Even when you just watched how he was with Ellie and the others it only made your feelings for him grow.
Now would be your ultimate test, in more ways than one. It was your first patrol, and you would be completely alone with Joel outside the city walls. You knew you had to stay focused, or else your first patrol would be your last. But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart flipped in your chest when Joel told you he would go with you.
“Sorry your first patrol is on New Year’s Eve… And in the snow,” Joel’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, “But we should be back in time for the party tonight.”
The sincere look in his eyes made your face heat up even in the bitter cold, “I’m ok with it, Joel. It’s gotta be done,” you replied as you strapped your gear to your back and zipped up your jacket, “All ready when you are.”
Joel nodded as he mirrored your actions and tugged on the reins of the horses, “Let’s get going.”
Patrol itself was quiet for the most part. You and Joel rode through an overgrown neighborhood where you both easily took out a handful of runners and clickers, but otherwise it was uneventful. With a deep sigh, you lowered your weapon once you thought you and Joel were alone in what used to be a convenience store.
“I think that’s the last of them,” you slumped your shoulders in relief as you turned to face him. It was always a comfort to you to see his face, and you gave him a quick scan over to make sure he wasn’t hurt. What you weren’t aware of was that Joel did the same for you before you turned around.
But, the moment of calm didn’t last long, and suddenly Joel shouted, “Look out!”
In a flash of movement, he was in front of you and acted as a shield as he pulled out his machete and attacked a runner head on that came out of nowhere and almost grabbed you. But, Joel didn’t let that happen and he drove his weapon into the infected several times before the body went limp on the ground.
“You alright?” he asked breathlessly as he held onto your arm. He hoped he hid the way his arm trembled slightly as he thought about if anything ever happened to you.
You looked into Joel’s eyes in awe, “Never been better,” you replied just as hushed before you let out another deep breath, “Thank you, Joel.”
He gave you a look you couldn’t quite decipher before he flashed a sad smile, “Anytime,” Joel gave you one last squeeze before he reluctantly let you go, “Let’s get going, the storm looks like it’s getting bad.”
*
As you followed Joel through the paths, you felt more and more of a chill in the air, and the thin layer of snow on the ground started to thicken with the worsening weather.
When the wind kicked up and you barely saw Joel in front of you, you heard him call your name as he turned his horse around to face you, “It’s getting worse than I thought,” he yelled over the gust of wind, “We gotta get to the checkpoint, quickly!”
“Ok,” was all you could reply. Your throat felt dry from the cold, and you saw your breath with every exhale. Even through your coat and gloves, you felt chilled to the bone and you shivered as you held your reins tight.
Joel picked up speed and you followed suit close behind. The little visibility you had quickly diminished as you both rode through the woods. You trusted Joel to keep you safe, and you followed him without a second thought. He knew these paths like the back of his hand, and you knew he would get you somewhere safe.
“Over here,” Joel shouted over the storm as the outline of a house came into view.
You breathed hard as the air around you felt thick and the cold felt like it stabbed your throat every time you took a breath. But thankfully, the area around the house was clear and Joel led you into the garage where you both tied your horses and closed and locked the door behind you.
“You alright?” Joel turned to you once the garage door was secure. Again, he put his hands on your shoulders and he looked into your eyes with a concerned look in his.
“I’m ok,” you whispered back.
“Let’s get upstairs,” he replied softly as he led you up a ladder and into a makeshift loft.
The space was simple, but it was a good vantage point down the mountain. If it weren’t for the storm, you’d be able to see Jackson from there, but all you could see was a sheet of snow and fog. There was a small bathroom on one end, an open space with a couch and a desk in the middle, and a small room on the other end that held supplies and food. Joel immediately went to the open book on the desk and made a note in the log before he turned back to you.
You stayed quiet as you looked around and took off your gloves. It was slightly warmer inside, but the bitter air still fought its way in and you still shivered from the cold. You pulled your coat tight around you in an attempt to keep warm, but it barely made a difference.
Your name in Joel’s voice called your attention as he crossed the room towards you, “Looks like we’re stuck here til the storm passes,” he said with a sigh.
You tried to keep your teeth still as you replied, “It’s ok,” your voice was barely audible as you wrung your hands together for warmth.
Joel noticed, however, and he immediately took your hands in his, “Shit,” he breathed, “You’re freezing.”
“M’ fine,” you muttered as you tried to shrug it off, “Don’t worry about me.”
“Too late for that,” he quipped back with half a smile and held your hands tighter, “Come here.”
Joel pulled you toward the couch where he sat you down and wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. Next, he grabbed a large lantern and used a spare match to light it before he set it on the floor in front of you, “It ain’t much, but it should help a bit,” he offered as he slid it as close to you as he deemed was safe.
“What about you?” you asked as you watched the light dance on his face.
“Don’t worry about me,” he shrugged.
“No, Joel,” you protested as you saw his breath when he spoke, “You don’t get to worry about me then turn it around like that,” you paused as you both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, “Come here.”
Joel sighed as he knew he couldn’t argue with you. He hid it well, but Joel wanted nothing more than to hold you close and keep you safe from anything, yet he didn’t want to take advantage of you or the situation you found yourselves in. But, he also knew you were right, so Joel moved back to the couch and sat close to you. Immediately, you felt the warmth from his leg against yours.
You adjusted the blanket he wrapped around you so that it covered Joel as well, and without realizing it, you both leaned into each other. Your breath caught in your throat when Joel slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close against his chest.
“I hope this is ok,” Joel sounded nervous as he spoke softly, “We gotta keep warm somehow.”
“This is fine,” you answered back faster than you meant to as your heart pounded in your chest. What you really wanted to say was that this was more than fine, that you imagined what it would be like to be in his arms for a long time.
For a long time, neither of you said anything. You both watched the small flames from the lantern in silence, and the only sound in the room was your deep breaths. You weren’t sure, but you thought you dozed off for a short time as you rested your head on Joel’s chest. The sound of his heartbeat was a comfort as the wind howled against the walls and the snow coated the ground.
When you opened your eyes again, you forgot where you were for a moment. You even forgot about the cold as a warm embrace kept you safe and secure. But as you registered the weight of Joel’s arms around your body, you realized you fell asleep against his chest and you shot upright.
“Sorry,” you mumbled as you pulled the blanket that still covered both of you close, “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Joel gave you a bright smile that lit up the room more than the lantern in front of you, “It’s alright,” his voice was soft as his gaze turned towards the window, “Looks like the storm passed, but it’s way too dark to go out right now. I think we’re stuck here til morning.”
You followed his gaze as you tried to look out the window as well. Outside seemed calm and quiet, but it was so dark you barely made out the outline of nearby trees. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize again, Joel beat you to it.
“Sorry you’ll miss your first New Years in Jackson,” Joel ran his hand up and down your arm to try and warm you up again.
“This isn’t so bad,” you whispered as you turned back to meet his eyes, “I’m enjoying the company,” you added with a grin as you felt your skin warm. Whether it was from how Joel held you or the rush of emotions that ran through you, you weren’t sure.
Joel smirked as he looked down shyly, “Me too,” he admitted.
In a bold move, you reached out for his hand that sat in his lap and took it in your own, “Joel, I…”
A flash of light interrupted you and both you and Joel stood up and rushed to the window. With the storm cleared, you both saw a clear outline of Jackson in the distance. The city was completely lit up in the dark of the night. Although they decided against fireworks for safety’s sake, the town decided to turn up every light they had at the stroke of midnight to welcome the new year. You could only imagine what the middle of town looked like all lit up like that with everyone celebrating. Part of you was sad to miss out, but the other part of you wouldn’t trade this alone time with Joel for anything.
“Must be midnight,” Joel’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as he wrapped an arm around you again, “Happy New Year.”
You turned your gaze away from the window once more and your heart skipped a beat when you caught the look in Joel’s eyes, “Happy New Year, Joel,” you breathed as you rested your hand on his chest. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt how hard his heart pounded under your palm. You wondered if his thoughts mirrored your own, “I’m glad I’m with you,” was all you thought to say.
“Me too,” Joel whispered your name as he brushed his thumb along your cheek as he looked into your eyes. You could tell he asked for permission without the words needed.
“Is this the part where we kiss?” you leaned in closer to him as you hovered your lips over his.
“Only if that’s what you want.”
“More than anything.” Before you talked yourself out of it, you crashed your lips against Joel’s in a heated kiss.
Joel was ready for you and he immediately deepened the kiss and held you tight against his body. You moaned into his mouth as you surrendered yourself to his warmth, and it was better than you could ever have imagined. His kiss did more to warm you than anything else, and though it was freezing outside, you felt a warmth like nothing else from him.
When he finally broke away for air, Joel whispered against your skin, “I’ve wanted to do that for longer than I wanna admit.”
You let out a deep exhale as you clung to his strong arms, “You have no idea.”
He laughed softly as he rested his forehead against yours, “This New Years ain’t so bad after all, huh?”
You joined Joel’s laughter as you placed a light kiss on his nose, “Not at all.”
A/N: my queue messed up the other day and posted this too early so here it is (again)
gif creds @darlingshane
The two of you had a busy week, From coming back from visiting family and spending time with them to finish up at work before your vacation time. Now you and Frank sat cuddled into each other, and the tree was up; you’d lite a few of your favorite holiday candles, which now made the room smell of flannels, and the fireplace blazed in front of you.
“I’m gonna go get us a blanket,” Frank whispered into your ear. You looked out of the window to see the snow falling from the view of your penthouse window. The lights of the city against the dark sky were a sight to see.
Before you know it, Frank was hurrying back, A soft throw blanket in one hand and a pair of fuzzy socks in the other. You smiled as you got down on his knees before you, helping you pull them onto your feet.
“What a gentleman.” You pulled him by his forearm into a kiss, and he used his free hand to balance himself on the armrest of the couch, trying not to collapse onto you.
“Be careful, don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“What if I can finish?”
“You wanna do this right here?”
“Why not? It’s a beautiful view and nice and warm.” The crackling of the fireplace behind him made him smile as he placed another kiss onto your lips.
Before either of you knew it, you were undressed as he was fully thrusting inside you, the feeling of his girth splitting you open as your head hit the back of the furry rug underneath you. Your boyfriend took you in a slow and passionate way, the fire still lit keeping the two of you warm from the frost on the other side of the windows.
After your orgasm, Frank laid next to you, on his chest as he placed soft kisses around your breast and neck. “Told you I couldn’t control myself.”
“Well, I’m not upset about it.” You leaned over to grab the clothes that scattered around the rug around you. Scooting over to the fire, rest your hand near it to bring warmth to your body.
“Still cold? After all that.”
“You didn’t exactly make me sweat Frank.”
“Let’s try again then.” Pulling you into his naked chest.
Summary: prompt was cozy cabin. we are on a roll here pals - also this is potentially angsty? you and bond are stuck in a mountain top cabin waiting on being extracted after a finished mission - both of you are sore and tense (bond killed the mark again) and frankly, you’re ready to be out of his presence. why? because too much exposure to james bond is a bad thing. (read: you’ve got a juicy crush on the man and aren’t about to let that come to light)
Triggers: injury mention, argument, death mention, weapon mention
The worst part about missions like this was getting back home. Especially when the mission was to bring back information and not to kill the very person with said information. It was a reoccuring theme with Bond and you nor M were rather happy about it. You’d discussed that with him while you were packing up your things on day one of waiting for MI6 to show.
“Are you really incapable of keeping people alive?” You scoff, throwing your things into your suitcase and listening for a response from across the hall. Having the cabin was rather nice for a change. Being able to openly discuss without anyone hearing and having space to stretch out - and get away from Bond - was nice. You also didn’t have to share a bed which was a blessing in and of itself.
“If I wanted to do that I would’ve gone to medical school.” He teases. With most of your belongings packed you stalk into his room, only to find him shirtless and dabbing at a very gruesome injury.
“Maybe you should have with how often you’re resolved to doing this.” You scold, approaching him and looking to the first aid kit, moving to help when he pulls the case away.
“’M fine. I’ve got it handled.” You watch him retreat before glancing at you. “Now, as for the matter at hand - he would’ve rat us out if we hadn’t killed him.”
“We? We? Sorry, who pulled the trigger? Right, I believe it was 007? And last I checked I was 005? So.... you. You killed him.” You correct him before catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You then returned to your room to take a shower.
That was three days ago.
You’re now on day four of waiting on extraction - there’d been a hiccup somewhere along the chain of command and no one was sent to fetch you from the cabin. So, you’d been stuck avoiding James as long as you possibly could’ve.
You’re getting up from your reading spot with your empty tea cup, moving to go and refill when you spot Bond at the counter peeling an apple. He’s pretty honed on to the task - until a board under your foot gives you away. His head’s popping up to look at you mid turn back to your room when he clears his throat. You sigh as he begins to speak. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Avoiding you? Now why on earth would I do that?” You mockingly speak as you enter the cabin’s shared space. He gives you a questioning brow as his hands continue to move.
“Do I dare mention the pile of dishes at the foot of your door?” You freeze a little and give a glance to said pile. It was much larger than you remember it being initially.
“Maybe I’m treating this like a paid vacation. After all that’s kind of what it’s become.” You’re not wrong though. MI6 had paid you for ‘inconveniencing’ you and you got to actually enjoy the glamorous cabin that they’d put you up in for the mission. You’d hoped that it’d last longer than the expected 4 days - spoiler, it had and hadn’t. With James killing the mark, you were only on day 2. But with the four days of waiting, you were here for nearly a week already.
“Right, right.” He’s finished cutting the skin off the apple, cutting it into slices he eats off the back of the paring knife. “Clue number two. You keep avoiding my eyes.” Were you? You’d come to sit at the edge of the island where barstools were lined along the way, playing with the string on your bag of tea.
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not.” The childish bickering ends at his next statement.
“Fine. Look me in the eye then.” James positions himself to lean on the counter, waiting for your gaze to meet his. Hesitantly, you do so, looking at him directly in his cool blues. In your peripheral, you can see the stopwatch function on his watch spinning.
“Are you timing me, 007?”
“Maybe I am, 005.”
You two sit there, unmoving, staring for some time. As you do so, you find yourself drifting. Melting almost. You’ve always been so cautious as to not get caught in staring, but now... he’s giving you the chance to do so. You’re counting wrinkles in his furrowed brow, noticing the way his shirt sits snugly against him. The popped collar and unbuttoned fasteners leaving a small peek of skin between creme fabric of his Henley. Your gaze drops at the ringing of a phone - his - sat on the counter, vibrating against the granite. You look back up to him, seeing his gaze is still solid.
“Are... are you gonna get that?” You mumble the question, watching him pick it up - eyes unmoving to you. When he does so, he’s answering questions briefly before hanging up, still staring you down.
“They had an equipment failure. They’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He relays the information to you and you give a slow nod. You’re starting to move from your seat when he speaks your name.
“What?” You ask, seeing his expression has changed even as you move to the electric kettle. Turning it on, you’re getting a new tea bag, turning to do so when you see him leant up against the counter, back to it, arms crossed. “What, Bond?” You try again, seeing him lift a hand and pull his index finger in a silent ‘come here’. After almost five minutes of his gaze, you’re following, just out of pure intimidation, approaching carefully. You stand in front of him, watching him cautiously. His hand moves to cup yours - instinctively you move to grip his wrist, which is what prompts a word out of him.
“Easy, angel.” He hums, thumb carefully caressing your cheek. Before you can retort anything, he’s pulled you to him, his lips meeting yours. You can taste the remnant apple juice left on his lips from his snack. Mixed with the intoxicating smell of his body wash - cologne - whatever the hell it was that made him smell so good, you’re too lost in it to notice the way his hand pulls your hip closer to you, your neck craning back a little.
In all the times you’d imagined kissing Bond, none of them have ever gone like this. Your frame is frozen in place - scared to move - scared to pull away. Until the breaking of a latch from the far side of the cabin rings into the building.
The two of you both pull away, quick to draw weapons from concealment, aimed to the direction of the sound.
