literature

Last Winter [JackFrostxReader] Pt.11

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Jack had not moved from the spot, his bright blue eyes locking you in place if they alone had the power to freeze you to the wall. He didn’t move an inch as you tried to move passed him and you were not about to try and pass though him like you would have done so the day before. No, of course you couldn’t do that now that he looked far more solid than ever.

With a flushed face, and hating yourself for stuttering, you asked, “W-what the hell are you doing?!”

He scoffed, “I was minding my own business when your li—”

“Bull s—”

At that moment, when you words were cut off so abruptly with one motion, your eyes grew wide in shock. That perfectly, ice-sculpted, pale hand was covering you lips in frost as Jack refused to allow you to finish you sentence, if it could be called that.

“I girl shouldn’t be saying those words!” was all he said, but you could careless of what a girl shouldn’t say. For all that was good, your mind was filled with phrases that would make his ears burst into flames! “Stop squirming!”

But, of course, you couldn’t stop squirming as he pressed you against the wall, one hand over your mouth and the other holding you in place with his staff. Your good hand found its way to his staff and, surely enough, your fingers wrapped around it successfully. You let out a muffled shriek into his hand and jumped a bit in excitement, but he still didn’t pull back.

Jack had your body completely pressed against his own, every cool inch of him freezing your body to the bone, and you didn’t care one bit. The fingers that were wrapped around his staff felt like they could break off, just as your lips would soon do if he didn’t remove his hand, and you still didn’t care.

His eyes, you couldn’t stop looking at his eyes, and every cell in your body had become acutely aware of how real his body felt on yours; contradictory ideas clashing in your mind about wanting him to step away or to step closer.

“I’m not letting you go until you say you’re not going to stab me, slice me open, or whatever torture method you’re thinking off in that little head or yours. Got it?” you raised a brow at him, did he expect a verbal answer from you with his hand now freezing your vocal cords? He grinned sheepishly, understanding your thoughts. “Just nob a yes, joykill.”

Your mind was still on a high-like feeling after the spoon incident, the silver dagger, and now the physical contact that was quickly locking the joint of your bones, but even those distractions weren’t going to allow your original plans to fall apart. Not being able to move your lower body because of his staff, you did the next best thing, the only possible thing you could do in this situation to not give him a win.

You stuck your tongue out to lick his palm, earning a sharp gasp from Jack, but he still didn’t let go. He instead pressed his hand closer to your lips, as a challenge, and you responded by jostling your head to the side until you were able to claps your teeth down on his hand. Jack let out aloud yelp sound and tried to move away, but now you were the one refusing to let him move.

“Iphm noths lettishng goph.” Your words were muffled by the finger you had moved your teeth to, Jack shoving you back with his staff while pulling his hand away. He seemed not to have understood what you had said,‘I’m not letting go’, as that was the first thing he countered with.

“Let me go!”

You shook your head furiously, causing him to let out another yell of pain as he tried to move back. Jack kept walking back and paying no attention to where he was walking as he was paying more attention on using his staff as a crowbar to pry you off of his hand.  

He had lost all attention to the snow his stunt of making it snow inside your house had piled on the floor, and forgotten the fact that you were no winter spirit; you losing your footing on the snow was as much of a shock to him as your bite, but it was because of the position you had landed on.

You had him flat on the floor, straddling him, shaking violently because of the cold, but still managing to glare at him with bright, burning eyes.

“Let you go?” you asked with a soft chuckle, “You’ve gone mad if you think I would not do everything in my power to keep you here now that I can touch you.” Your left hand had the color of his sweater, it was too small to grab on to both his wrist after all, but that seemed to keep him pinned, for the moment. “But, you’re right, I shouldn’t cut you . . . yet.”

His glare, you’d heard of an ice cold glare, but had never actually seen it, until that precise moment.

Maybe it was the temperature of the room, the snow that was melting into pools of water beneath him, or maybe it was still his body temperature sipping into you, whatever it was it had made your body shiver at his eyes. It was only the chattering of your teeth and the cold hand on his collar shaking that made him soften his eyes.

“You’re cold.” He said, his eyes locked on yours.

“How would you know?” you asked, averting your eyes to his arms that lay out beside him. Relaxed, but you knew this spirit was as nimble as the wind and could send you flying at any moment. “Your body shouldn’t be able to tell if someone’s cold because it would be at the same temperature as your own. There’s no difference to be felt.”

“That’s why.” he said, his eyes finally not glaring, “You always looked warm, even when you were a kid. Though I couldn’t touch you, I knew you would feel warm when I could.”

You began to pull back, letting his collar go as you sat on him fully as your knees were too cold to unlock. Jack didn’t seem to mind and instead crossed his arms underneath his head to get a better look of you.

“You also blush a lot when people praise you,” you could feel your cheeks begin to fill with blood at that comment, “And have been blushing a lot recently. It blooming from your center,”

You grimaced, taking the blooming center as your heart, and without thinking pushed hard on his chest to push yourself off of him before responding to his comment, “I’m frozen to the core, Jack. The best evidence for that is the fact that I still want to vivisect someone I like.”

The snow outside had stopped, the sun was out and as bright as ever, and your phone told that the forecast looked sunny for the rest of the week. You had gone to find a mop to clean up the mess in the study and came back to find Jack seated silently on your desk chair. Ignoring his questioning eyes on you, you cleaned the study without saying another word.

“What’s vivisecting?”

You were shelving books when he spoke, but you had seen his questioning coming, just not that particular question.

“You know what dissecting means?” you asked, showing him a blank expression though your mind was losing it, and your heart was thumping hard in your chest by simply making contact with his eyes.

Jack nodded slowly, your eyes making the same effect on him as his had been doing on you. You had no knowledge of this, though.

“Well, it’s exactly like dissecting,” you told him, placing the last book on the shelf, “except you’re alive and not dead.”

You only had to blink once and Jack was standing in front of you, his eyes wide and a large grin on his face as he said, “Then you’ve given up on that stupid idea of me being a ghost?”

“Well obviously,” you shoved him, blushing at the fact you could still touch him, “I can’t go through you anymore.”

“And you accept that I’m alive.”

“Only someone that was alive could be this utterly annoying,” you answered.

“You believe in me—”

“—I believe in my five senses—”

“And you like me!”

“Yes—wait, what?! Stop your stupid grinning, I didn’t mean it like that!” Jack already had you wrapped in his cold embrace by the time you began to deny the fact that you liked him. “L-let me go!”

“I’m not letting go.” He repeated your words from before, and you were sure your bite had been just as hurtful as his death grip on you.

“Jack,” you gasped out, “I can’t breathe.”

Your arms had made their way behind Jack, pounding away at his back for him to let go, but he seemed to be too happy to do just that. He had you head resting on his shoulder, his hoodie having moved to were your check was pressed to his bare neck. You were sure your flushed cheeks felt like burning coal to him.

“Jack—”

“Jack?” a male voice cause you to jump and push Jack away. “Is that the boy you were meeting when you hurt that arm?”

You cursed the world for that man remembering everything and for coming into your study when not even your own mother was allowed to do. At least she was somewhat respectful or your privacy.

“Ruben, let her be. What she does in her study, or who, is her problem. Just as what I do in my room is mine.”

Scratch that. That woman had no freaking respect for her own daughter.

They walked out the study, Ruben giving you a look before he slammed the door shut and making sure to make a loud enough entrance to your mother’s room to announce that they wanted you out of the house.

“Your mother’s changed from when you were a kid . . . a lot.” He leaned down to look at your blank face. “Are you alright?”

You looked at him beneath your lashes, “I’ve known him for a while now, and this is the first time I’ve heard his name. Ruben—you’re on my vivisecting list, jerk.”

Jack simply grinned, “Well, mad scientist, you want to go play outside in the snow?”

“Might as well catch hypothermia,” you threw on your jacket and walked out of the house with Jack flying beside you, “It’ll save myself the trouble of puking to death.”

“Don’t even joke about that, joykill.”
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AGuardianOfDreams's avatar
*dances about, whooping* finally! physical contact!   ha ha... reader-chan is sooooo busted for admitting she likes Jack!