bakerstreet | Body heat

Body heat

The Body Heat Meme

Post with your character! They're now stuck in a very cold place of your choice. It can be anything, such as a freezing chamber, a cavern or a small cabin in the midst of a blizzard. The choice is up to you.
Comment around! Now your character has some company in this bone-chilling environment. The two of them share two things in common: clothes completely unfitting for this weather (be they summer clothes or even lingerie) and a blanket.
A blanket? Yes, just one warm blanket and no other ways to escape the cold. The two of them will have to share it in order to stay alive in this weather. Don't worry, you're sure to find a common language in this terrible situation!
So, uh, have fun, I suppose. Try to not freeze to death!
Protip: friction and body heat are both excellent ways to fend off cold.

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"Yeah, well, you're the weirdo putting your dick in all this crazy. What's that say about you?" So there, Bucky. She settled in against her laid back seat, but realized quickly this might not be the wisest arrangement.

"You know... we could both get in the backseat. Share some of that body heat you got going on..."

"I guess it says I don't mind it so much," he says, shooting her a grin.

Honestly? He was fine, but then again... he usually slept on the floor on nights he's alone, less so when one of them is at the other's place; it's nice having that time with her attached to something else than the nightmare-covered floor of his apartment.

"Sure, if that's what you want," he agrees to it easily. He thinks about it for a moment and hums curiously, "Think there might be a blanket in the trunk?" Chances were 50-50, if he had to guess; any vehicle provided by Fury had a chance of being packed well, but it didn't mean every avenue was always covered, either.

"Okay. Get in the backseat." She darted forward and pulled the keys from the ignition. Jangling them at him, she smirked. "I'll go look in the trunk."

Fury was going to hear a mouthful from her about his shitty mechanic or whoever the car got rented from, but it might not come with a boot to the nards if there was at least a basic supply set in the trunk. Bracing herself, she opened the door and slipped out quickly, closing it behind her to keep as much heat in as she could. "Shit." It was cold out here. Cold and dark. Teeth chattering, she slid her way around the car to the back near the trunk to go rifle in it, looking for equipment.

He tries to grab her wrist and stop her, but she's faster and is already scrambling out of the car to check the trunk. "Brat," he mutters, shifting to sit up and get out of the car, moving the seat forward, as far up as it would go.

"Anything?" he asks, glancing over at the opposite end of the car toward where Jess rummages around the trunk. "Hurry up," he teases her, opening the door to the backseat. It takes a second for him to do the same with the passenger seat to push it as far up and out of the way as possible. "Does this..." but he's mostly talking to himself as he fidgets with the backseat trying to find any button or lever that might recline it even just a little, and she probably can't hear him anyway.

A soft 'thud' confirms he found the right button and he nods, satisfied. It's not a bed, but it's close enough given the circumstances. More like a shitty couch, at best.

There was a gym bag type thing in the back, along with an extra tire and all the accoutrements to change it. She unzipped it, feeling inside, since she couldn't see shit, feeling plastic, plastic, round plastic, then something material. Good enough. She could sort it out later. Grabbing the bag, she closed the trunk and opened the passenger rear side to slip in, feeling the chill all through her as a bit of wet had slipped down the neck of her jacket and was inching down her back. "I fucking hate snow."

"I know," he chuckles softly. He'd already shed his leather jacket, so they have something to make a pillow out of for the moment even if it's not the best one. "you've said so before..." He does listen, you know.

He glances over at her, not quite settled in any specific position yet as he asks, "Top or bottom?" he can already imagine the quippy joke or snapback she'll have for that, but it's a practical question, here. They can't lay side-by-side, so.

Her hair hid the smile at his affirmation. Yeah, he knew. Yeah, he listened to her. Yes, she knew and appreciated that. The bag rested on her knees and she cleared her throat before she tapped it. "There's water in here too, I think. Felt like plastic bottles."

Glancing over at him, she had to squash down the instant reaction to that question, but it showed in the way her lips were twisting into a smirk. "For sex? Bottom. For sleep? Top. You're heavy." For cuddling, well, she'd prefer to spoon him from behind, but the carseat didn't offer that much room.

He can barely see, whatever moonlight they’d had earlier seems to be hidden behind clouds now; she’s little more than a silhouette in the darkness, but he swears he can feel that smirk that twists her mouth just so.

“Very thorough answer, I like it,” he grins, shifting now to lay down against their makeshift bed. “And at least we won’t die of dehydration. Bet there’s an MRE or something in there too.” They aren’t great, but he’s certainly had worse.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, reaching for her with his right hand, warm fingers wrapping gently around her wrist to try and tug her closer, being particularly mindful of exactly how much cooler than usual the metal of his left arm would be at the moment.

She shoves the bag down into where their feet would be if they were sitting, up near their heads on that side of the car so it's within easy reach. Then she climbs up with his help, half on him, half on the seat. A little digging and she finds that material she'd found before. "I'll kick him half as hard as I was planning because of the blanket."

But she also takes a little time to shrug out of her jacket. Leather wasn't great to lay against for warmth, and she wanted to share hers with him, not block him from it. Laying on his chest was always a good place to wind up, so that's where her head went as soon as she flicked out the thinner than she wanted it to be blanket over them. "Now I'm really glad it was me, because you snuggling up with Agent Scowlyface Shades McNofun might be fun to think of, but less fun to do."

He’s still while she shifts around to get everything settled and then herself, snaking his arm around her like it might help lock in a little more heat— maybe it will, mostly though? He just wants to hold her close because he can. Doubly fun because the situation actually kind of calls for it.

With her settling against his chest, he can feel any remaining tension in his shoulders melt away. “I would definitely not be doing this with Agent McScowly or… whatever the hell you just said,” he chuckles.

"I hope not. I'd hate to beat up all of Fury's little rent-a-MIB because they got all up close and snuggly with you. That'd leave him with just the weirdo aliens. Then where would we be?" There. Right there on the edge of his chest, where her head fit just right, and she could slide her arm around his waist and tuck it in between him and the back of the seat. There. That was her spot. "You're a good snuggler. They'd be helpless against it. I couldn't blame them. I'd still break them, though."

“I’m pretty sure I’d suffer in silence before I got snuggly with one of Fury’s guys,” he chuckles lightly; one thing’s for sure: there’s never any boredom to be found when Jess is around.

He presses a kiss into her hair as she settles further against him. “If I’m stuck in the middle of a storm, I’m glad it’s with you instead.”

Edited 2024-11-01 17:12 (UTC)

The blanket was pulled over them, and she lay there for a moment in the dark, eyes open, hearing the sounds of the car cooling down; the heat from the hood of the previously working car clashing with the fall of the snow to make little metallic pings. "You think this was intentional? Some kind of test of his?"

He doesn't move while the silence stretches between them; neither of them are the particularly overly chatty type. Silence with Jess isn't uncomfortable to him, though; it's mutual if it's anything at all.

At that question, an eyebrow arches upward. "I dunno... does it matter?" He doesn't lean too much into the things he knows Fury wants–– he only does that in the places where their desires overlap, even if the supporting reasoning is very different.

"I'm not a fan of his. I don't like that he still thinks he and whatever shady government sect think they have a right to keep you on a leash. It makes me want to..." She quieted for a moment, not sure she should finish that sentence.

"I don't like it."

"I know," he reaches up to run his hand along the length of her back, a steady, slow pace that he continues mindlessly. "I don't either. Lesser of two evils is still evil, but..." he trails off. There isn't really an end to that statement.

"Has he given you some kind of end goal? How long he expects you to be in 'service'?" Even regular military got that. But Bucky wasn't regular. It wasn't even the Winter Soldier thing. It was the enhanced thing. And that made him one of their toys.

It chafed at her.

“Not really… and there’s Val, too…” the new team, none of whom he feels particularly comfortable with yet. Yelena is the one that feels the most familiar at this point and he can’t just monopolize all of her time.

So. He does what Fury and de Fontaine ask, as long as they don’t try to force him any further left of his own personal morals, sideways as they might be.

He can't see it, but she's scowling against his chest, wishing she could reach through time and grip Fury by his throat and change his perspective.

"Wane me to talk to him?" Talk, meaning, beating the shit out of.

“You can try,” he certainly has no objections to or qualms about it, but he doesn’t
think she’ll get very far. Not with Fury and not with Val, either.

He continues dragging his fingers through her hair, blunt nails lightly scraping against her scalp; someone playing with his hair is something that calms him down a lot, personally, and he hopes it helps her, too.

Perhaps in a way she might pick at after, she finds herself being calmed by the rasp of finger over her hair. It's the repetitive motion, the petting that makes her unable to stop thinking of how good it feels.

"So if I just squeezed his balls...."

It’s worse if he’s already tired because it’s easier to break through his typical defenses. And yes, she could absolutely put him to sleep that way, too. It’s a comfort tactic that is just deeply rooted into his bones.

He snorts a laugh, “It’s okay, you know…? I was always going to be someone else’s weapon…” his voice drops to something quiet and reflective, “I knew that as soon as I got drafted.”

"That doesn't make it better, James." She turned her head up to his chin, nipping there. There was a part that wrapped around them that was supposed to make it all better. Make it all something that everyone thought. She didn't think that, and she made no bones about stating it.

He chuckles once, but there’s not much mirth to be found in it. “No, it doesn’t- nothing could, but… you wanna know what the best part is? Now…? I can say no. I can walk away. I have the choice.”

She rested her head back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He was right. When you had a choice, even if it was a shitty choice, it was better than the alternative. "Okay. I can live with that."

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apologies for mistype. I am the dumb

no worries! 💖

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