#breathtaking winter scenes

[thebluepeninsula]

covered bridge VT webcam 😍

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ LET YOU BREAK MY HEART AGAIN !

summary :: together in blissful matrimony, miguel o'hara has never felt true happiness until he was by your side. when you're unexpectedly taken from him, he'll do anything in his power to avenge your death. what he doesn't expect is to find you during that process. or, at least, one version of you.

word count :: 2.9k

content warnings :: obsessive!miguel, yandere!miguel, death, deafness (reader is deaf & mute in one reality), spiders, marriage, gore, grief, noncon touching, drugging (venom is put into readers system).

authors note :: Y/H/N = your hero name.

miguel o'hara's yandere traits are . . .

smothering, territorial, & paranoid

──── The gentle melody of piano and harp paint the room in an array of romantic hues. Snow drifts through the Winter air from outside the frozen windows of the venue. Family and friends stand around and admire the beautiful scene before them. You're adorned head-to-toe in white, like an angel who had just descended from the clouds. Miguel is dressed in the finest suit he searched high and low for to ensure it was perfect for this day. However, he knows no one is paying attention to him when you look as breathtaking as you do. His rough-skinned, yet gentle-mannered hand rests on your lower back, the other interlocking your hands together. With your head resting against his shoulder, he sways your body along to the gentle hum of music pervading the air.

Your first dance.

The golden light from the chandelier above serves as a spotlight for you and Miguel. Feeling his chest begin to shake, you move your head to look him in the eye. Tears of sheer happiness were cascading down his cheeks and a weak smile is plastered on his face. You swear that if you were to look up 'devotion' in a dictionary, the way he is looking at you would take up the entire page.

Miguel briefly disentangles his constricted hold on your hand to express his current, overwhelming feelings. He points his middle and ring finger down, the rest of the digits left pointing up. "I love you," that is what he is telling you. When he had first learned you were deaf, he spent his nights studying ASL and SSL in order to communicate with you. However, that single symbol is the one he always finds himself reverting to when all other signs and words fail him. I love you, I love you, I love you. Although Miguel won't express it verbally, he will express the three words through his hands for as long as he lives.

And Miguel remembers the best day of his life just as much as the worst day.

Just one month after you had both gleefully tied the knot, the two of you had gone on a stroll through Nueva York. The moon hangs heavy in the sky and darkness settles against the faint streetlights. Miguel made the vow to always protect you and you've found it to be comforting, relaxing. After a whole lifetime of being deaf and mute, you knew that you were far more vulnerable than others. Knowing you have the Spiderman as your husband causes your concern of any potential assailants to fade away. It's evident in the way his grip on your waist tightens when passerbys walk by and the perceptible shift in his eye when someone stares at you for a little too long.

You've always known he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

The following events all happen quicker than either of you can think. Just as you're crossing the bridge that overlooks the entire city in all its glory, a sudden black hole forms, framed with iridescent hues and overwhelming force. The power of the portals sudden appearance causes the bridge to vibrate beneath your feet. Screams of terror from pedestrians falling to their death goes unbeknownst to you as Miguel holds you against him with constricted tension and hides your face in his chest. The man you have chosen to spend the rest of your life ignores his duty of being the city’s superhero. All in favor of your life.

The remnants of the platform you stood on soon crumble. The red glare of Miguel’s web shoots from his wrist, to where it wraps itself around one of the numerous pillars spread upon the bridge to ensnare you further. But it was so quick, the way you slip from his tenacious grasp. Almost as if someone had forcefully snatched you from him. Innocent civilians shout and plead for Spiderman to save them, but Miguel can't hear them over the thumping of his own heartbeat. Even if he were to hear them, it would not stop him from tearing this entire city asunder in order to get to you.

He forms his hand into the same sign he uses to say 'I love you' and another blaring-red web, the same hue as his panic, springs from him and down to wrap itself around your body. He's done this a million times for others and saved the lives of practically everyone in the city. But, this is you. Miguel is digging his claws into crumbled pieces of the wreckage and shoving them through the air as if they were merely nothing, all in favor of saving you. However, you're both picking up speed and accelerating closer and closer and closer to the unforgiving ground. He latches his talons into a protruding pipe caused by the chaos and clings tight to the web connecting you with him, watching in trepidation as you continue to fall. Attempting to pull the web towards him and bring you back into his arms, where you belong, his efforts were futile.

A loud crack! permeates and his world falls apart.

Practically faster than light, Miguel is pummeling to the ground and to where you now lay. Your chest is flat with no breath and your body is lifeless. Blood is caked on your skull and it cascades onto the pavement beneath you. He rushes to your side, a mantra of ‘no’’s invading the dead, silent air. His heart is paralyzed in his chest as reality sinks into his bones. Desperate pleads escape through loud, violent sobs, begging for you to just open your eyes, hold your hand up, and tell him 'I love you, too'. He knows you cannot hear him, he knows this. But, this does not stop him from begging you, begging God, begging the universe, begging anyone to not do this to him, to not take away the only thing that has ever mattered to him. The only thing that has ever made him happy.

He'll never forget how he had stayed there for hours, ensnaring your lifeless body in his arms as the night faded into dawn. He'll never forget when he left you through brute force and was sent back to the desolate building he could only call home when you were in it. He'll never forget how he had spent days upon days studying the sudden black hole that formed and declared to destroy whoever caused it. The person responsible had taken you from him and if every soul in the galaxy has to pay in order for him to avenge the only one he loves, then so be it.

A year had gone by and every second without you become more tortuous than the last. Things that made him once glisten with joy only make his empty heart lurch with grief. Miguel is now present in the Spider-Society, desperate to manipulate any and all sources to eradicate who had so selfishly taken you from him. He'll just have to endure the yapping teenage-spiders that push at his buttons for the time being. All for you, he reminds himself.

At times, unbeknownst to Miguel, he'll start mumbling your wedding vows under his breath in front of the other spider-people to ease his mind. He knows it by heart; he will never forget it. They may all stare in disturbed confusion, but to mention your name to a man like him would be nothing short of a death sentence. "It's a soft spot, don’t poke it" Jess informs the others.

When the day is finally over and his everlasting efforts were brought to no avail, Miguel will return to the house you had planned on spending the rest of your lives in. Together. All life has been sucked out of the property. The wedding photos scattered about the premise have been derelict with shattered glass after enraged fits. The 'Just Married!' paint still sits on his car and decays with age, but he refuses to ever scrub it off. Your wedding ring, wedding dress/suit, and flower bouquet sit in indestructible cages he operated to preserve them. He fidgets with the wedding ring he vowed to never take off as he wallows in the despair of his silent home. If only he had been quicker; if only he hadn't been so weak.

The video of you dancing in matrimonial bliss ends and the monitor shuts off faster than Miguel could even blink.

The hefty, metal doors to the headquarters open to where several spider-people enter, pantomiming dramatically about the success of their previous missions. Their sudden appearance startles him, to where he demands to know why Lyla hadn't informed him of the spiders' incoming. Jess then enlightens him on his strict rule he set to not disturb him whenever your face is on screen. He exhales with a sigh of defeat and prepares himself for the onslaught of mayhem that would soon come his way. This time, however, a new recruit has joined the group.

Full-body suit hiding any form of physical identity and a soft voice that rarely comes out, Y/H/N from Earth-555 was requested to join the team by Jessica Drew herself. And Miguel couldn't care less if he tried. He'll let another spider on the team if it means keeping the multiverse stable and fueling his progress to one day finally kill the one responsible for your demise. Still, something allures him about this new recruit. Their real name and face are left a mystery to him, but there are certain moments with this stranger where he can't but be reminded of you. That soft voice and heedful hearing prevent him from fully indulging in your memory, but there are certain tics and habits they possess that catch him off guard.

The way you tap your feet when you’re focused, the way you scratch your wrists when you’re anxious, and the way you fidget with the hem of your clothes when you’re bored. And this is what life had been like for a while. Staring at the countless monitors that display a myriad of different information until his brain rots and returning hole to bathe in his misery until the next day repeats.

Several months into Y/H/N's time here is when the doors to the headquarters slam open and several spider-people all clamor in. All were breathless and bruised from a mission that ended messily. The new hero is in the mayhem, as well, exasperated as they rest against the wall. Miguel rolls his eyes at the sudden intrusion and leaves his spot at his desk to find out what these idiots had done now. They all scramble to defend themselves and point their finger at one another, while that new recruit is still trying to catch their breath in the corner. Pathetic. They should know by now that the sake of the multiverse can't afford even a minor mistake. Seeing them left so weak after a fight causes a dry laugh to escape his throat.

Their gloved fingers then grasp hold of the hem of their mask, before forcefully yanking it from their head. And it is like a miracle had materialized right before Miguel's eyes.

His stomach drops at the sudden intrusion of emotions. Shock, elation, disbelief, infatuation. Y/H/N, Earth-555's Spiderman, is his Y/N. You stand before him as you did all those years ago. Despite the dirt and blood smothered into your exposed skin, Miguel thinks you look almost as beautiful as you did when you walked down the aisle.

All you do is clench your eyes shut and try to wait for the pain in your abdomen to ease. The clattering arguments of the others only add fuel to the flame that is your suffering. Soon, there is a sudden wave of silence that washes over. Even with the agony coursing through your body, you were still able to catch the abrupt shift in the atmosphere. You open your eyes to find the man you had feared most, Miguel O'Hara, treading towards you and towering over you with his large figure. Paralyzed with fear, you had jumped to the conclusion that you had enranged him in some way. The terror is so overwhelming, you completely miss the sheer look of love in his eyes and how his pupils had morphed into the shape of a heart.

Eventually, you gain control of your numb body and make a break for it. Pain pumps like a drug through your damaged body, but you persevere and use every sliver of strength left in you to run from him. You're running through the city, dodging past all the numerous spider-people, and webbing through different buildings to escape this maniac of a man. During this, your name and demands for your return are shouted profusely. You don't have time to acknowledge how on Earth he had found out what your actual name was.

Mistakenly, you take a quick glance over your shoulder and almost shiver with fear at the sight alone. Miguel is barrelling after you on all fours like some sort of fucking animal, with fangs and claws out and all. Broken glass protrudes into his limbs from the numerous windows and walls he barreled through. Blood seeps through the torn cuts of his suit, exposing his bruised skin. The excess of vermillion webs clutters the complex from his frivolous attempts at retrieving you. It is utterly terrifying.

Somehow in the midst of chaos, you had found yourself back in the headquarters. The 'Go-Home Machine' practically calls out for you with its luminescent hues. You hear the muffled shouts of your name and the thumping of racing footsteps. In an attempt to use your webs for faster travel, you realize that during your chase, you had entirely run out of web fuel. Shit. From here, you resort to using your legs for once and practically throw yourself into the machine. The translucent spider above uses its limbs to piece together bits of the portals' walls as if it were merely stacking legos. Hope pokes at your brain, but you don't dare let yourself think the storm had washed over just yet. A deafening crash then permeates through the headquarters.

"STOP THEM! NOW!" The echo sends a chill straight into your bones. You watch the machine sputter with increased energy and hope that with enough time, this predator on your tail will find something else for dinner.

Miguel springs into the air as if he were weightless, before landing above you on the thick facade while it buzzes from heightened energy. You have nothing but this wall to protect you from this absolute rabid dog. Sheer trepidation caresses your skin with it's ice-cold touch as he attempts to claw through the membrane of space and time protecting you.

He is bone-chillingly terrifying as he slams all the strength in his body against the barrier. It becomes increasingly difficult for him to keep his grasp on the machine as it continues to charge with intensifying energy. This does not halt his efforts, though. If anything, Miguel has now become increasingly aggressive as the prospect of you leaving him again becomes more profound. The technology whirs from every punch and thrash Miguel gives in order to get to you. Static bolts of energy protrude the air like lightning bolts when he is finally able to tear a hole through the surface, eyes wide and crazed like some sort of beast.

In an attempt to stop him, you try and piece together the chunks of radiation that had been discarded from his unwanted entry. Upon doing so, Miguel is finally able to reach through the opening and dig his talons into your wrist. Your escape was right at the edge of your fingertips, but now you have been flung straight into the jaws of this monster. You splat harshly against the ground and with the state your body was now in, you knew for certain you could not fight anymore.

However, you don't even have a mere second to think of leaving anymore. Not when this vampire-spider has you pinned to the floor with ease faster than you could produce a single thought. He begins to shush you like a baby while you fight and thrash at his chest. His large hand cups your cheek with the same softness you would use to handle a kitten, while the other utilizes his strength to restrain your body.

"I got you! I got you back with me!" The pitch in his voice had raised as he pours his heart out to you. "I never thought I would see you again, but you’re here. My Y/N, you’ve come back to me…” Red eyes are blown wide and they practically stare daggers into you. All as if you were some sort of prey.

The only thing his words do justice in is confusing you further. What you had perceived before as anger was actually... Desperation? Relief? Love? This man has never spoken a single word to you for the entirety of your several months spent in the complex. You are perplexed as you try to think of what had triggered him to suddenly act this way towards you.

"I will never let anything happen to you again... Just let me under your skin..." Miguel's lips find their way down to your ear as he whispers to you the same way a lover would. The entire moment is so deranged, it makes you shudder with horror.

His teeth then sink into the nape of your neck as if his fangs were two needles. With a yelp, you feel warm blood escape and seep down your flesh. Something new swims through your bloodstream that was induced by his bite. Your body begins to fail you and lethargy envelops you like a warm blanket. And this man is like goddamn Dracula, slurping and drinking every last drop of your delicious essence. His calloused hands savor the feel of your body against his and he indulges in how much he had missed this, missed you. With a final, feeble attempt to defend yourself against your assailant, you're soon enveloped into a deep slumber within Miguel's embrace.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ ONE DAY, I WILL STOP

FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU . . . ❞

i wrote this all in one sitting after an all-nighter please bare with me lmao.

did you guys also know that the pupils of his eyes canonically turn into hearts?

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Changing Tides

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 6790

Summary: You and Bucky get paired together for undercover missions a lot because it works beautifully, despite the fact that you don't really even interact at home.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, limited use of Y/N, LOTS of pet names (pretty girl, baby, i think baby girl, my girl etc), praise kink, oral f. receiving, slight angst, reader is in denial for a good bit of this, angst if you squint, reader is a part of the team, this piece takes place in an AU where everyone lives together and everything is happy

A/N: Oh. My. God. I did NOT intend for this to be this long, at one point I thought I was going to have to make this a two-parter but I got it all in here. I really enjoyed writing this, please let me know what y'all think!! :)))

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Hues of velvety violet and radiant amber mixed, painting the evening sky like a scene out of a museum. The scent of warm sea salt was still palpable in the air, the crystal like water of the wide-expanding ocean reflected the light of the setting sun. Dancing specs of light could be seen in the darker shades of the sky, stars bright and clear against the inky color.

The cold metal of the hotel balcony pressed against your exposed skin, shirt having risen up as you leaned over it slightly. The view was beyond breathtaking, something you would argue belonged on a movie screen. It was serene, offering a moment of reprieve from the typical chaos you endured in a day, and a distraction from the man currently sitting in the hotel room behind you.

Hate didn’t describe the emotions you felt for the brunet. On a daily basis, there was an underlying disinterest but every now and then a seething annoyance would bubble at the mere thought of the former soldier. You couldn’t pin-point why. Bucky himself had never done anything to wrong you after his rehabilitation and reintroduction into society, and you could easily say nothing the Winter Soldier had done counted towards your feelings.

The odd part of it all is the Bucky and you worked well together, great even. More often than not, you found yourself partnered with Bucky on just about every mission the two of you had; from quick in and out missions to undercover operations like the one you were on now. The communication was great, the two of you easily fell into a rhythm and could read each other’s body language like you’ve known each other your whole life. It was easy to slip into a faux-domesticity with him, which was a stark contrast to the daily life you lived.

The day to day with Bucky involved a lack of any form of contact. You’d avoid the gym if he was in it, would eat in silence if the two of you happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, eye-contact was consistently avoided - Really, the only time the two of you were seen together at home was during group training sessions and team-building nights. You were sure to never make it awkward for the rest of the team, never bad mouth or be outwardly annoyed at Bucky’s presence, you just really couldn’t care less if he was there or not. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice carried from the room, light and sweet, almost intoxicating with a feeling instantly having your gut turn and catch your skin aflame, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight or just order room service?” His voice got nearer as he moved to join you on the balcony.The cool metal prosthetic wrapped around your waist as he stood next to you.

A soft hum left your lips, gaze moving from the horizon to the prosthetic then to Bucky’s face. He adorned a slight scruff, long hair pulled back into a low bun; His eyes nearly twinkled as they reflected the setting sky in the distance, he wore soft maroon button down and black chinos that truly made him look like a normal, well-off guy. Tony and Peter had finally managed to perfect the color needed to make Bucky prosthetic look like a normal arm which easily sealed the deal on assuring that there was nothing major that could be easily spotted to dox the two of you as agents. 

The flight to Morocco was long and the next 10 days were easily going to be even longer, the last thing you wanted to do was be anywhere but a soft bed. “Room service,” you replied, matching the tone he had asked the question with. You leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your gaze back to the ocean, “Did you do a room check and get our things set up?”

He nodded, “Everything inside is clear and put away,” he squeezed your side softly when he said inside, a subtle emphasis to communicate where it was safe to not be in character. “I’ll go order the room service, you can go shower and get comfortable. I know how much you hate the airport.” He chuckled softly at the end, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before making his way back inside. 

You let out a soft sigh, making it inside as well and closing the balcony door behind you as you did. This really was going to be a long 10 days. 

**

The bitter taste of the wine nearly made your mouth water, sitting somewhere between too intense and the perfect thing to take the edge off. The first full day had been smooth, an easy itinerary of walking and exploring the city. From the outside, the two of you easily looked like a love sick couple; matching clothes, a large diamond in your hand, Bucky always opening the door for you and your soft smile that just couldn't seem to leave you face; but in reality you had been mapping the city, learning the back alley ways and locating any ports that may be needed for a quick exit. 

The small patio of the restaurant adorned a handful of tables, lanterns lighting the area in a soft romantic glow, lucious plants filling in any space, the open space allowed for ease of blending into the crowd while watching any passerby on the street. Bucky had taken up a game of footsie with you, chattering along about some of the shops you had passed along the way.

“Is there any shop you’d want to make your way back to?” Bucky took a sip of the wine in front of him, eyes fixed on you intently.

A soft hum left your lips, swaying your head back and forth softly as you thought. “Well, I wanna hit up the history and art museum, so maybe we could see if there’s any other cute shops there? If not, I’d definitely like to look at the jewelry store and bookstore we passed on the way here.”

“Mmm, I do think it’s time to get my pretty girl a new necklace,” the words fell off Bucky’s tongue like he sweet talked you on the daily. 

There was that feeling again, the uneasiness that laid in the pit of your stomach and your skin heated up. Maybe this was why you couldn’t stand Bucky outside of missions, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with this feeling constantly. “You spoil me enough, ya know,” you offered a soft giggle, “I can assure you I don’t need any more jewelry, my love.”

Bucky smirked softly, cocking his eyebrows up at you with a knowing look on his face, “You may not need it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it anyways.”

You shook your head, about to offer a rebuttal as the waiter set your food down in front of you, all thoughts being lost to the amazing sights and smells. “This is easily my favorite part of our trips,” you stated, the distraction of food keeping you from noticing the way Bucky’s gaze stayed on you and a soft smile lingered.

**

Six days of being enveloped in Bucky’s presence, and thankfully it was getting easier by the moment. It had been a smooth operation so far, the information being easy to locate and gather without raising suspicions. As a result, Tony had said to take a day to relax, lay low and assure no one was able to realize there was something more to you two.

Bucky had made a home on the balcony of your hotel, a book in hand and a coffee sat on the little table next to him.He been there since the early morning and it was easily almost noon, not that that you were bothering to check the clock. A day off meant a day of sleep and eating, nothing much more than that. 

However, sleeping wasn't something your body wanted to do so you found yourself with a forgotten movie playing on the television, your gaze consistently going back to him. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You'd been sitting for the past God knows how long trying to figure out why you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. His hair was down, something he didn't do quite often, almost always finding it easier to have it pulled away from his face. From the angle he was sitting, you could see his light gray button down was still completely unbuttoned, his jean shorts a little too snug around his thighs. He occasionally sipped the coffee that was most likely cold at this point, turning the page of the thick novel occasionally. His lips would purse, eyebrows scrunch occasionally, or a small chuckle, or even a shake of his head as he reacted to the words on the page. 

The wind picked up some, indicating a small rain storm that was destined to his later in the evening was starting to make it's way in. Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket, tying his hair into his typical low bun before picking his book back up. And it finally hit you; Fuck he's pretty.

The thought immediately made your body heat up and the instant feeling of something in between shame and excitement sat low in your belly. It was like a well known secret your subconscious kept for years finally made it over the wall of denial in your brain, immediately making your thoughts run wild; Fuck he's so pretty, more than pretty actually. What if this is why we've been weird for some many years? Wait. Why would that make it weird? Wait. Why is it weird? Why do we get along so well on missions and then act so differently at home? Oh My God… Has the team been trying to set us up? 

Shaking your head, you jumped up, apparently too suddenly because Bucky broke his concentration on his book to glance over at you. You could feel he was watching you move around, the only thought in your head now was to get out for some fresh air as you deciphered the flood of thoughts. You grabbed some fresh clothes, slipping into the bathroom with a heavy sigh once the door was closed. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, attempting to ground yourself. Okay, what the hell is going on? The question kept repeating itself over and over in your head as you slipped into a summer dress, a sage flowy piece that Natasha and you bought for this trip specifically. It was cute, and Nat was right when she said it complimented your skin; definitely different than your normal attire but still comfortable. 

Walking out of the bathroom, you were relieved to find Bucky still where he was when you entered. After slipping on some sandals, you moved towards him, immediately aware of every detail of your very being. "Hey," you kept your voice soft, waiting for him to pull him eyes from the book and look up at you. There was something about how brightly his eyes shone with the golden sun beating down on him, there was a sense of both innocence and mystique, and the instant feeling of safety just from holding his gaze. "I'm heading out to get some coffee, do you want a fresh one? You've been sipping at the same cup for hours now."

Bucky glanced down at the cup, then to his watch, eyes going wide for a moment before a soft chuckle left his lips. "I've been out here for 4 hours already, shit. Yeah, I'd love a fresh one, doll. Thank you." He offered you a soft smile, "Just get me a-"

"A latte with three honeys on the side," you said matter-of-factly, "I could order for you at just about anywhere at this point." It was a teasing joke, one Bucky laughed at, but you instantly cursed yourself for even saying it. 

"We do spend quite a bit of time together," he hummed out, "Did you want to go out for dinner or get room service tonight?" He asked, picking his book back up as he prepared for your departure. 

"Let me see how I feel after I get back. But if we go out, it's your turn to pick. I picked last night." You stated before leaning down to kiss his hairline, still needing to keep up the act just in case someone was managing to spy; or at least that's what you were telling yourself. "I'll see you inna bit."

**

After returning with the coffee, still finding Bucky to be where he was when he left him, it was an instant decision to find a way to give yourself more time a way from the man that had your mind absolutely scrambled. Grabbing a book of your own, you let him know you'd be down by the pool if he needed you, using a quick excuse about wanting some change in scenery before the rain came as you left. 

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd been out there, it couldn't have been too long, but you we're aware you were reading the same page over and over again. The words seemed to mix together, jumbling about and not registering even in the slightest, your brain still attempting to make sense of what you were feeling. 

You never denied that Bucky was attractive, that's admittedly part of what made undercover missions easy. You never denied that you two got along well on missions, but you couldn't explain or pinpoint why you didn't get along at home. Sure, you were never hostile or rude, but it was exactly friendly or outgoing either. No matter how much you thought and walked through your early memories of Bucky, you couldn't make sense of anything. 

At this point, you knew pride was part of the issue. You knew the team would be able to walk you through, at the very least Nat or Pepper or maybe even Steve, but you could never admit to them what you were currently feeling or going through. The only thing you wanted to do, needed to do was to act normal until you got home. Then you could just hide away and go back to not having to interact with the man that was causing you turmoil. 

"There's my pretty girl," Bucky's drawl quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump at the sudden push back to reality. Seeing you jump caused Bucky to chuckle, especially as you turned to glare at him and his bright smile, "It's getting late, baby. We should go get some food." 

He moved to the lounge chair you had made home in, kneeling down next to you so he was eye-level. There was that feeling again, low in the pit of your stomach that had your skin warming. "There's apparently food trucks at a park about not too far. Why don't we head there and get some food to bring back and watch a movie?" 

Instinctively, you reach to tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear, offering a soft nod and a smile, "That sounds perfect." 

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, the thought immediately making your already warm skin heat up more, feeling flustered and like a school girl. It's not like you haven't kissed, it was just agreed upon that it was reserved for dire need situations. All other physical touchs; hand holding, forehead kissing, even smacking each others ass was okay to sell the facade that you were a happy couple.  

Bucky picked up on the change, a look of slight worry on his face, "You okay, doll?"

The laugh that left you was slightly anxious, holding the book in your hand up as a quick white lie, "Yeah, you just came down at a particularly… intense scene."

He immediately laughed, kissing your forehead as he stood up. "You're so cute. Let's get going though."

**

The bustling crowds offered a great distraction - Bucky stood proudly by your side, fingers interlocked together and swinging your joined hands softly like a love sick couple. The both of you scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where to go and what to get. 

The lines weren't too long, there were nearly a dozen trucks, and live music playing. The sun was finally setting, more clouds rolling in and bringing in a cooler breeze that allowed for a reprieve from the beach heat. There were benches with umbrellas set up, lantern lights adorning some posts and wires around the lot. It was cute, and if it wasn't for the mission you were still technically on, it would feel so wrong to be here with Bucky. 

After a moment of thought, you looked at Bucky, lips slightly pursed in thought, "I have an idea." You stated matter-of-factly.

He cooked an eyebrows at you, intrigued and slightly amused with your tone, "Let's hear it then."

"Let's get a platter or some random menu item from every truck then go back to the room and eat there." 

Bucky looked around and nodded, "Ya know what, doll, that sounds fantastic. Do you wanna divide and conquer or go one by one?"

It was then that you realized the clouds were darkening, and the rain was definitely going to happen sooner than later. "Let's divide and conquer before the rain comes." 

With a nod of agreement the two of you split, heading to either end of the trucks and working your way to each other. With the lines being shorter, it didn't take too long to get through them all, the both of you holding multiple bags stacked full of food and tied tightly. Quick words were exchanged before you started heading back towards the hotel, hoping to make it back before the rain.

The effort was fruitless though, with just maybe a few hundred feet left before the hotel you were staying at, the cold rain begins to pour down, the dark sky opening up and letting go every ounce of water it was holding on to. With loud gasps from the both of you, and small playful shriek even, you two took off running into the lobby, screeching yourselves to a stop as you entered and stood on the mats in front of the door. You were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath; a quick glance to Bucky showed you he was doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you made eye contact, bursting into immediate laughter. You were both soaked head to toe, the only thing saved was the food. His shoes make a sloshing sound and your feet slid around in your sandals, you clothes clinging to every inch of your bodies. You were easily a sight for sore eyes, but it couldn't have been funnier. 

"Why didn't either of us think about the rain?" You managed to get out through your laughter. 

"Who knows, but let's get upstairs so we can get dry." He managed to respond.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity, the cold of the AC feeling more intense from your wet skin. Bucky opened the door for you, letting you in first. He set the foot down, immediately kicking off his shoes. "Go shower, get warm. I'll pull out a change of clothes for you and we can swap when you're done." 

Something about the direction made you freeze momentarily, causing him to look up at you, "(Y/N), you're freezing. Go shower. I'm fine to wait." His voice was soft and caring and there was a part of you that wanted to tell him to shower with you. 

In the dim light of the room and the soaking wet clothes made him look even more divine, like he was sculpted from the gods themselves. You nodded, handing him the bags before making your way towards the bathroom. You closed the door, then quickly opening it to call out but he cut you off, "You want an oversized shirt and a loose pair of shorts, gets your ass in the shower." His tone was demanding but still playful. You caught the look in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and a hint of something you didn't want to recognize. 

You kept your shower quick, ready to be in comfortable clothes and a bed with good food. After quickly drying yourself as much as possible, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and stepped out into the bedroom. Bucky stood in only his boxers, his own clothes in one hand while he scrolled through the television with the other. It wasn't the first time you've seen him with this little clothing, but something about it now made your mouth dry and your skin heat up. 

"All yours," you said, grabbing his attention as you moved to the bed where he laid your clothes out for you. 

"Thanks, doll. I'll be quick. You can pick the movie," he tossed the remote onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself. 

You stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the clean clothes. Bucky had already made work of getting creative. He pulled the ironing board from the closet and set the food up next to the bed, had fluffed the pillows up into a sitting position, and already gotten drinks for the two of you. By the time you had decided on a movie, Bucky was coming out of the bathroom. 

Immediarely, you mind started short circuiting again. He looked soft. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of light gray shorts, his hair was towel dried and brushed against his shoulders, a slight wave to the brown locks. He slid in bed next to you, getting himself situated and comfortable before handing over the massive spread of food for you to start digging into. 

After about 20 minutes of eating and watching the movie in a comfortable silence, Bucky turned the volume down some, "Can I ask you a question?" The tone of his voice alone already told you how he was feeling. There was a sense of worry, anxiety almost to him. 

"Of course, what's wrong?" You asked, sitting your food to the side so you could turn to look at him. 

Bucky followed your lead, moving the food he had off the bed as well before taking a drink, trying to have a moment to articulate how he was going to ask what he wanted. Even though Bucky was sure the room wasn't bugged, he knew that there's was never a 100% chance of assuring that. The fact alone could make talking about things outside of the mission difficult, and this one one of those moments.

"How's the trip been for you? I know we haven't been on one in a while and I just want to make sure everything's okay, that we're okay." He had turned fully to look at you now, the worry in his voice making it to his eyes. 

"Oh…" the response was immediate, and you regretted it instantly the second you so that worry on his face grow, "The trips been wonderful, and uh…" You sighed, toying with the blanket around you, "We're fine, yeah. I'm just… not here?" You said, sort of motioning to your head to get the point across.

Bucky cocked his head some, the worry turning to confusion. "Are we going to be okay when we go home?"

That was something you couldn't answer. What was okay. Was okay how you normally act? Was okay something different? Something better? Something worse?

"Uh… maybe?" You offered, immediately wincing at your own words. You sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Okay," Bucky took a moment, letting you both sit in the uncomfortable silence that was the lull in the conversation. He was doing his best not to become frustrated, he knew there was most likely no easy way for you to communicate what you wanted to say or even what you were feeling, but he's been able to tell for the past couple of days that things, specifically that you, have been off. "What do you know?"

Your gaze met his again, taking a deep breath in to try to gather the courage to say what you needed. "Things feel… different?"

"Different?"

"Different." 

Bucky stared at you for a moment, mind calculating and analyzing has he tried to decipher what you meant. In an instant it all clicked, and you didn't miss the way his lips curled into a quick smirk before his features soften. "Do things feel different when I call you my pretty girl?"

He watched as you immediately became flustered, averting your gaze and watching your chest rise and fall quicker. He thought he had sensed your heart rate quickening throughout the past couple of days, but he had honestly assumed it was anxiety from the mission. He had no reason to think it could be something else; Well, until now. 

"(Y/N)," your name came as firm and demanding, causing you to look at him. The smirk on his face was more evident now, "We can continue this conversation now, or when we get home. But just remember, you're my favorite book to read."

You were instantly lost for words, mouth opening and closing as you processed what he just said to you. Waiting until you were home was going to be far too long, but talking about whatever this was now? Right now when you were flustered beyond belief, that flippant warm feeling filling every valley and curve of your body? 

"Just say the word, doll, and I'll act like everything is normal. I'll go back to watching the movie and eating and ignoring the obivous."

A soft shake of your head was all you could muster as you search desperately for a will to stop the inevitable, or the courage to beg for it. 

"Words, (Y/N). Use your words." 

"I don't want normal." You swallowed, taking a shaky breath you continued, "I don't want this to go back to normal." 

Buckys lips turned to a smile. "You don't want this to stop when we go home?"

You shook you head more feverishly, "No, I - Fuck, what have you done to me?" You groaned out.

"The same thing you've been doing to me for years, I suppose." His tone was matter-of-fact, cool and calm almost. 

"What?" Your eyes had gone wide, mouth dry, and that God forsaken feeling low in your stomach was growing. 

"You heard me. Obviously, we'll have some talking to do when we get home." He chuckled

Bucky moved as if he was going to grab the food, stopping once he heard, "No," come out of your mouth, "No. I want to talk about it now."

He looked back at you, eyebrows raising as to silently ask how.

"I want to…" You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself before leaning forward, cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pressing your lips to his. 

This kiss was different; It was electricity filled, igniting every nerve in your body. You could feel the heat from your ears to your toes. It was intoxiting and addicting. 

Bucky waisted no time in kissing you back, even letting out a small groan at your sudden assertiveness. His prosthetic hand held onto you waist, the other cupping your face as the two of you broke years worth of tension in one swift motion. Bucky pulled away first, taking in the plumpness of your kiss swollen lips, the sluttering of your lashes as your opened your eyes to look at him, and the darkness of your gaze that was stricken with last. 

He looked just as enthralled, blue eyes dark as the night sky and hooded with desire, cheeks flushed slightly beneath his scruff. It finally clicked what the feeling you've been having all week was. Lust; pure, unadulterated lust for the man who was currently pretending to be your husband.

"Well damn, doll," he offered you a toothy grin, squeezing your waist, "Wasn't expecting that." 

"Sorry-"

"Don't be." He bit his lip, studying your face for a moment, "Whatcha thinking, pretty girl?"

You couldn't help but get flustered, "That I want more. A lot fucking more." You hand moved up from his neck to card through his hair, his breath hitching some as you did. "Please, James, I need more." Your voice had a slight whine to it, something you hoped he wouldn't be able to resist. 

"If I knew you sounded so pretty begging this would've happened years ago," he grumbled before kissing you again. This time though, he re-situated himself, helping you move to straddling him and doing his best to let you still have some semblance of control for now. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from being able to move away from him.

One of your hands cupped his face, the other running down his clothed chest. You lips move in sink, a squeeze on your hips eliciting a small moan from you that he took advantage of, using your open mouth to slip his tongue in. You could feel the tent in his shorts growing, sitting hard against your core. 

An experimental grind of your hips pulled a moan form the man beneath you; The sound was music to your ears, and enough encouragement to do it again. 

Buckys hands moved, bracing you as he flipped you over to give himself more leverage and take control. Just as he begin to grind himself against you, he moved his lips from your to your neck. He kissed his way down to your pulse point, drinking in the sweet sounds you made. He sucked softly at the skin, moaned himself when you pulled at his hair. 

Any rationale thought was gone at this point, any fears or anxieties you had pushed to the back of your mind as pure pleasure and desire took over the forefront of your thoughts. Once Bucky was sure he would be satisfied with the mark he left on you, he pulled back some to look you in the eye. 

"Are you sure you want this?" He breathed out, offering you an out. 

You nodded so quickly he couldn't help but laugh softly, "God, you look so fucking desperate, doll. You want me to fuck you?" He had a slight tease to his voice. 

Another nod is all you could muster, but that wasn't good enough for him. "Uh uh, come on. Use your words. Need to hear you say it if you want me to do it."

You whined at his demand, pouting at him slightly, "Please."

"Please what?" His tone was more stern now, "If you want to continue, I need to know you actually want this." 

His insistence to make sure you were consenting pulled at your heart strings. You nodded, "Yes, Bucky," you kept your voice soft before adding a slight whine and plea to it, "Please fuck me."

He smiled, kissing you much softer than had had before, "I'd do anything you asked me to." His words sounded like a promise that had you own emotions bubbling up. 

Bucky leaned up for a moment, pulling off his shirt. He motioned for you to sit up and pulled yours off as well, groaning softly when he sat you skin. "Such a beautiful, pretty girl. Look at you," his hands ran up and down your sides and he took in your body before making eye contact with you again, "Most perfect thing I've ever seen, ya know that?" 

He could feel your skin heat up at his comments, watching you squirm. "Take your shorts off, doll." Bucky moved off the bed, kneeling on the floor at the edge, "C'mere." He demanded. 

You aren't going to deny him at this point, feeling yourself so tightly wrapped around his finger that you'd follow him into hell if it meant he kept talking to you like this. Once you were close enough, Bucky grabbed your thighs and pulled you to be perched on the edge on the bed, legs on his shoulders with his eyes level with your core. 

"Look at this sweet little pussy," he squeezed your thighs tight, "You're fucking glistening, doll." He started pressing kisses to your thighs, avoiding the very apace you needed him at. "Smell fucking divine, I just know you're gonna taste even better."

Bucky watched as you already started fishing the sheets, squirming and biting you lip to hold back any noise. He already decided it was his job to make it impossible for you to hold back. Bucky moved his right hand to interlock with yours, taking his left arm and using it to put pressure on your waist, the cold feel of the prosthetic a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. Just as he squeezed your hand, Bucky licked a thick stripe from your core to your clit, genuinely moaning at the taste. 

He wasted no time in drowning himself in your essence. Bucky licked and sucked, offering the occasional nibble, until you were grinding yourself in his face. Once soft gasps and moans were falling freely from you lips, he moved his left hand to your core, the cool digits of his forefinger and ringer figuring prodding your sopping hole. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly as he pushed two fingers in, relishing in the fact that your moans got loud. 

Bucky pulled him mouth away, moving to you thighs and sucking hickies into the soft skin while his fingers worked magic. He already knew your body so well, years of working together on intimate missions allowed him to learn how to tell what you liked versus what you loved. 

After leaving a few marks, he leaned his head against your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes and watching had your chest rose and fell and you head was thrown back in pure pleasure. "I was fucking right. Taste like honey, could drink you up all fucking day." 

He licked a quick stripe again, from where his fingers were to the hilt inside you all the way to your clit. "So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to continue eating your sweet little pussy until you cum all of face then I'm going to fuck you nice and deep so you feel my cock for days."

He chuckled when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, "You like the sound of that, pretty girl?" He curled his fingers, hitting the spongy spot that had you gasping for air and eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Look, you're already so close to the edge. You better soak me, baby."

Bucky didn't fall short on his word, getting back to work on your clit with his mouth. His scruff added a nice sensation that bordered on pleasurable pain, fingers moving st the perfect pace and curving expertly, mouth switching between sucking and kitten licks. His right had squeezed your own hand, encouraging you to let go for him. 

The pleasure was building quickly, it was intoxicating and inhibition destroying. You leaned up, using your free hand to grab hold of his hair and pull, giving you leverage to grind on his face. Bucky moaned against you, and truly giving you everything he was worth in his determination. 

It didn't take much longer for you to fall over the edge, moaning loudly and body convulsing. Your legs squeezed his head as he continued to work you through your orgasm until you fell back, panting for breath. 

Bucky pulled away, chuckling softly with a proud look in his face. From his nose down, he was absolutely glistening with your slick, "God you're fucking hot, using my face like that." 

Bucky stood, pulling his shorts off, using them to wipe his face some, then tossing them to the side. "Can't wait to see your pretty face when I fill you up. Your gonna take me so good, aren't you?" 

You nodded, already getting worked back up. You sat yourself up before he had the chance to grab you, leaning up and carding your hand through his hair again and guiding his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of your own cum on his lips, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly. 

He pulled away from your lips, breathing in sharp. "Uh uh, doll, you can do that another time," he kissed your forehead, a sweet gesture that was a drastic difference to what was currently happening, "Right now, I wanna be buried inside you, making you cum all over me again. Cmon, lay back down for me."

You stole one more kiss before resuming your prior position. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, pulling you back to the edge and holding your legs spread wide. "You can tell me to stop at any point," he said softly, "but unless you do that, I'm not stopping until you're thoroughly filled with me."

You nodded, offering a desperate, "Please, Bucky. Want all of you," and moving to hold your own legs up as the extra step to prove how much you wanted this. 

"So fucking perfect," he groaned out. Bucky grabbed his length, teasing your slit a few times to get his thick tip left before finally pushing in. He was slow, listening to your gasp as he stretched you out so nicely. 

Inch by inch, he pushed in until he was bent over you and all the way to the hilt, your lower bodies completely flushed. "You feel fucking amazing around me," he moaned out, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Just as you were starting to whine, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in, causing you to moan out loudly when you felt him in the deepest parts of you. 

Bucky set a brutal but rhythmic pace, changing it ever so slightly until he heard your moans and whines change to be deeper and louder. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, which somehow allowed him to go even deeper, alternating between full thrusts and grinding against you. 

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing circles in your clit with his thumb and watching as your whole body begin to shake with intense pleasure. "Look at you," he moaned out, "Better than my wildest dreams. You gonna cum again for me, already doll?" 

He didn't need an answer at this point, he could tell from how your walls were squeezing him that you were close, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't far behind you. Bucky kept his movements consistent until he felt you fall over the edge again with a high pitch moan, his hips finally flattering as you squeezed him like a vice, quickly chasing his own high. A few erratic thrusts and he spilled into you with a moan of your name. 

Bucky let your legs down, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. He laughed lightly as you whined at the loss of him. He disappeared to the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing back a warm, damp wash cloth to wipe you down with. Bucky pressed softly kisses to yoh skin and he wiped you off, kissing your lips before tossing the cloth to the side and climbing into bed with you. 

He helped you move back to laying normally in the bed, laughing once he noticed the credits of thie movie were rolling. He wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and letting you get comfortable on him."How you feeling, doll?"

"Good, a little weird, but good." You said, voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Weird how?" He asked, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.

"Good weird. Happy things are gonna be different when we get home."

With how you were laying, you missed the way Bucky smiled down at you, "You don't understand how happy it makes me that I'll get to treat you like this all the time."

"Really?" You asked, already finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

"Doll, I've been yours since the moment I met you, someone was just too stubborn to notice her own feelings." He squeezed your side before going back to rubbing your back, "Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

[raebae0001]

Where Spring Meets Winter

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

warning: angst, fluff, the usual stuff. my bad if it seems rushed oops. not proofread :) aha

wc: 12.6k+ (oops)

a/n: anyways ive been rewatching tinker-bell and my opinion still stands that secret of the wings is the best. that inspired this, the story of clarion and milori, my heart argh, heartbroken at 8 fr

hope you enjoy, dont take this seriously i was just messing around lol, im not completely happy with it, it feels like its all over the place but oh well, i might edit it more in the future who knows. this is also very dialogue heavy in some parts, and for that i apologize in advance, but it is what it is

oh yeah suguru and shoko make an appearance, not much though

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting hues of pink and lavender across the sky, the fairies of Pixie Hollow retreat to their homes. Laughter and chatter soften into the night’s embrace, and soon, the warm glow of their lights fades, leaving the tranquil sound of rustling leaves in the warm-season woods.

You, however, have no intention of resting.

Rumors of a beast—something monstrous lurking at the border where spring meets winter—have been swirling for days, growing with each retelling. And while your advisors have urged caution, you can’t ignore the pull in your heart. You are meant to protect your people, and proving yourself before your coronation feels paramount. But beneath your sense of duty, there’s another reason drawing you to the border. A curiosity. A longing for something more.

The Winter Woods have always intrigued you.

As the warm-season fairies sleep, you flutter silently through the woods, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of any lingering fairies. The moon casts a soft, silvery light on the landscape, illuminating your path. The soft hum of night insects fades as you near the log bridge—the only thing connecting the two worlds. Your heart quickens as you reach the edge of the border, where spring kisses winter.

The view before you is breathtaking. The snow-covered landscape of the Winter Woods shimmers under the moonlight, each flake reflecting the light like tiny diamonds. The trees, their branches heavy with frost, stand like statues in the stillness. Everything about the scene is cold, yet serene—almost magical.

Your breath hitches as you stare, captivated by the beauty that lies just beyond your reach. You flutter closer to the log bridge, your wings trembling with anticipation. The temptation to step into the snow, to feel the coolness against your skin, overwhelms you. Just one touch, you think. Just to know what it’s like to feel the cold.

Slowly, you descend, your feet landing softly on the log. Your heart thuds in your chest, caught between excitement and caution. But just as you inch closer to the line where spring and winter meet, a soft rustle breaks through the silence.

Your instincts flare to life, your body tensing. The beast.

You quickly withdraw your hand, scanning the trees and snow-laden bushes. The night is quiet, but the rustling continues, coming from a cluster of frost-covered bushes just a few paces ahead.

You narrow your eyes, trying to pierce the shadows beyond the snow. There—movement. You catch sight of a tuft of white amidst the bushes, and your heart leaps into your throat.

“What goes there?” you call out, your voice steady despite the wariness tightening your chest. The breeze carries your words across the quiet divide, but there is no immediate answer. Only more movement.

The figure steps out from behind the bushes, brushing off the snow from his shoulders. He stands tall—taller than any fairy you have ever seen—and he moves with a grace that suggests no threat. His snow-white hair glows under the moonlight, and his cerulean blue eyes sparkle like the frozen lakes in the depths of winter.

He raises his hands in a gesture of peace, sensing your readiness to pounce. “Easy now,” he says, his voice smooth, almost teasing. “I’m not your beast.”

You hesitate, lowering yourself from your defensive stance as you realize this is no monster. He’s a fairy, like you—though not at all like you. His wings are sharp, crystalline, catching the light with every slight movement. Everything about him is cold and regal, a stark contrast to the warmth you embody.

“Who are you?” you demand, still keeping your distance, though your curiosity flares at the sight of him.

The winter fairy chuckles softly, running a hand through his snow-dusted hair. “Lord Gojo Satoru,” he replies, bowing with exaggerated flair. “Guardian of the Winter Woods. And you, little spring blossom, are far from where you should be.”

Your eyes narrow at his casual tone. “I am no ordinary fairy,” you shoot back, your pride flaring. “I am Princess [Name] of the warm seasons, and I’ve come here to face the threat that lurks at the border.”

His eyebrow arches in amusement. “A princess? How charming.” He folds his arms, clearly unperturbed by your title. “But I assure you, there’s no threat here. You’re the first warm fairy I’ve seen in ages.”

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks, though you aren’t sure if it’s from embarrassment or frustration. “Then what are you doing lurking near the border, Lord Gojo?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his cerulean eyes. “I could ask you the same thing, Princess. Shouldn’t you be preparing for a coronation rather than hunting imaginary beasts?”

You blink in surprise. How did he know about your coronation?

“I’ve heard things,” he says, as if reading your thoughts. “Word travels, even in the frozen north.”

Your shoulders stiffen. “I’m not here for pleasantries. If there’s no threat, then I’ll leave.”

But as you turn to go, you feel a pull—a deep, unexplainable longing to stay. Something about this winter fairy intrigues you. His playful manner, his easy confidence—it’s so unlike the fairies of your court, where everything is formal and measured.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to leave,” Satoru calls out, his tone softening. “The border is more interesting than it appears.”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. “What do you mean?”

He steps closer, but still keeps his distance, his gaze drifting to the log bridge between your worlds. “There’s more than snow and frost beyond the border, you know. Just as there’s more to you than what your court sees.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. It’s as if he can see right through you, past the title and the duties that weigh on your shoulders.

A silence settles between you, the crisp winter air mingling with the gentle warmth of spring. It’s strange how comfortable you feel in his presence, how natural it seems to stand at the edge of two worlds with him.

“Why do you stay so close to the border?” you ask, your curiosity finally getting the better of you.

Satoru smiles, his eyes softening. “Because sometimes... I wonder what it’s like on the other side.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You understand that feeling all too well.

________________________

Satoru made his way to the border, the crisp, cold air of the Winter Woods biting at his skin, though he barely noticed it anymore. Nights like this, when sleep eluded him, he often found himself wandering near the edge of his world. The border was the closest he could get to feeling something different—to catching a glimpse of the warmth he longed for, the seasons of sun and bloom that only existed on the other side. The icy chill of winter was all he had ever known, but he had dreamed of the warmth of spring, summer, and fall since he was young.

As he approached the boundary where frost met the thaw, he slowed his pace. The faint sound of trickling water from a melting patch of snow reached his ears. The border was always quiet, still, like the two seasons had come to a delicate truce here. And yet, tonight, something was different. A soft shimmer caught his eye—a glimmer in the moonlight.

Fairy dust.

He paused, heart quickening with curiosity and something else—something deeper that pulled at him. His sharp, crystalline wings fluttered lightly as he inched closer, his breath catching in his throat as he spotted her. A fairy. But not like any fairy he had ever seen.

She stood at the edge of the log bridge, where the warmth of spring kissed the cold breath of winter. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back, flowing in soft waves that shimmered in the pale light. She wore a gown the color of sunshine—golden, radiant, and fluttering lightly in the cool breeze. The fabric swirled around her like the very embodiment of light, glowing against the backdrop of snow and ice. She was mesmerizing, a vision of warmth and life, a stark contrast to the cold, stillness of his world.

Satoru’s breath hitched in his chest. He had never seen anyone so beautiful.

Instinctively, he ducked behind a snow-covered bush, his sharp wings folding against his back as he watched her from a distance. He felt a strange mixture of awe and longing. Her presence, the way she stood there gazing across the border, seemed otherworldly to him. She belonged to the seasons of warmth and growth—worlds he had only ever dreamed of. And yet, here she was, so close to the winter’s edge.

Her eyes, wide and filled with curiosity, scanned the Winter Woods, and for a moment, he wondered if she could sense him, sense his gaze on her. Her gaze lingered on the snow-laden landscape, and Satoru held his breath as her eyes seemed to search for something beyond the frost, beyond the cold, towards him.

What was she doing here? Why had she come so close to the border? He could see the faint trembling of her wings, as if she was holding back, resisting the temptation to cross into the cold of his world. The moonlight illuminated her features—her delicate face framed by her flowing hair, her eyes gleaming with a mix of caution and wonder.

Satoru found himself captivated not only by her beauty but by the way she looked at the Winter Woods, with a sense of wonder that mirrored his own feelings about the world on the other side of the border. She seemed drawn to the winter, just as he was drawn to the warmth of the sun.

Without thinking, he shifted in the snow, causing a soft rustling sound. Her eyes snapped toward the noise, her body tensing. For a moment, he froze, unsure of what to do. Should he reveal himself? Should he stay hidden? He had never been so close to a fairy from the warm seasons before, and now that he was, the sight of her had rendered him speechless.

His heart pounded as he watched her search the darkness for him, her wings fluttering softly as she narrowed her eyes. For a moment, he wondered if she would see him, if she would discover him hiding among the snow-covered bushes. And yet, part of him wanted her to find him, wanted her to know he was there.

He couldn’t help but admire her courage—standing at the edge of the border, so close to a world that wasn’t hers, drawn by something just as he was.

_______________________

Though reluctant, you decide to stay a little longer, feeling an inexplicable pull toward the mysterious Lord Gojo. His presence is unlike anything you’ve encountered before. You’ve heard of the Winter Woods’ legendary guardian, but you never expected him to be so young—or so intriguing, with an air of quiet confidence that seems to draw you in.

Satoru makes his way to the border, his steps soft and deliberate, until he reaches the line where snow meets the thawed earth of your world. Without saying a word, he sits down, remaining just on his side of the boundary, the frost glistening at his feet. His eyes find yours, and though he doesn’t speak, there’s an unspoken invitation in his gaze.

After a moment’s hesitation, you flutter down and sit beside him, keeping to your side of the line where the ground is warm. The two of you sit inches apart, yet it feels as though you’re worlds away—divided not just by snow and earth, but by the vast contrast between winter and warmth.

For a while, neither of you say anything, content to sit in the moonlit stillness. The only sound is the soft rustling of the wind through the trees and the occasional creak of frost settling in the Winter Woods. You can feel Satoru’s presence beside you, quiet and steady, yet somehow comforting.

Eventually, Satoru breaks the silence. “What’s it like, beyond the warmth?” he asks, his voice soft, yet filled with curiosity as his gaze stays trained on the moon.

You glance at him, slightly taken aback by the question. His profile is illuminated by the moonlight, his white hair shimmering under its glow. His sharp features and crystal-blue eyes are strikingly beautiful in the soft light, and for a moment, you find yourself distracted by him.

It’s only when he turns to look at you that you realize you’ve been staring. Your breath catches, and you quickly avert your gaze, heat rising to your cheeks. His soft chuckle doesn’t help, and you clear your throat, trying to recover your composure.

“It’s... different,” you begin, your voice a little unsteady at first. “The warmth, I mean.” You pause for a moment, wondering how best to describe the lands beyond the Winter Woods. Everyone knows of the four lands—one for each season. But the experiences, the feelings, the colors—that’s where the true difference lies.

“In Spring Hollow,” you say, your voice softening, “it’s always spring. The world is in constant bloom. Flowers of every color stretch across the fields and forests, and the air is sweet with their fragrance. Everything feels fresh and alive, as though the earth is awakening each day. The colors are vibrant—pinks, greens, yellows, every shade you can imagine.”

Satoru listens quietly, his cerulean eyes watching you with keen interest. “Are there butterflies?” he asks, his voice laced with curiosity. “We don’t have any here. It’s too cold for them.”

You smile gently, remembering the delicate wings fluttering through the air. “Yes, there are so many butterflies. They flit through the flowers like little jewels, their wings shimmering in the sunlight. It’s hard to imagine spring without them. They’re part of the magic—everything is alive, from the smallest flower to the tiniest insect.”

Satoru seems to absorb your words, his gaze distant as if trying to imagine a world where creatures as delicate as butterflies can thrive. “That sounds... enchanting,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“It is,” you agree softly. “In Spring Hollow, everything feels like it’s just beginning. There’s a kind of lightness to it, a sense of endless possibilities.”

Satoru nods thoughtfully but doesn’t speak. His curiosity remains, though, and after a moment, he asks, “What about summer? What’s it like in the Summer Glade?”

You take a breath, thinking of the endless golden days of the Summer Glade. “It’s always hot there, always bright. The sun hangs high in the sky from dawn until dusk, and the warmth fills the air. Everything is alive and buzzing—birds, insects, animals. The colors are bold—deep reds, vibrant yellows, intense oranges. It’s... intense, in every sense of the word.”

He looks back at you, intrigued. “So it’s always hot? Never cool, even at night?”

You smile. “Even at night, it stays warm. The stars seem closer, and the air smells of blossoms. The nights are filled with the hum of insects and the songs of summer birds. It’s as if the whole world is wide awake, all the time.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow slightly in thought, his gaze still locked on you. “That sounds... overwhelming.”

You laugh softly. “It can be. Summer is full of energy, and it never rests. But there’s beauty in that too—in the brightness, the vitality.”

He stays quiet for a moment, processing your words, before he asks, “And autumn? What’s it like in the Autumn Wood?”

You close your eyes for a moment, remembering the Autumn Wood. “It’s like a slow, never-ending sunset,” you say softly. “The leaves are always falling, but the trees never go bare. The colors—deep oranges, reds, golds—they fill the landscape. The air is cool and crisp, and everything feels calm, like the world is preparing to sleep. There’s a comfort in it, a sense that everything is slowing down, but in a peaceful way.”

Satoru remains quiet for a moment, as if absorbing the images you’ve painted with your words. His gaze is distant, thoughtful.

“And you,” he begins after a pause, “you’ve lived with the warmth all your life?”

You nod. “Yes. The warmth has always been my home. I’ve known the colors, the life, the energy that comes with the lands of Spring, Summer, and Autumn.”

He turns to look at you, his gaze steady. “But... you’ve always wanted to feel the cold, haven’t you?”

You blink, startled by how accurately he’s read your thoughts. You lower your gaze, looking at the thin line of snow that separates your world from his. “Yes,” you admit quietly. “I’ve always dreamed of the frost, of the snow... something I’ve never known.”

The silence that follows is thick with understanding. Satoru’s eyes linger on you, his expression softening as he studies your face, as if seeing the longing there that you’ve never spoken aloud.

“What about you?” you ask, leaning slightly closer, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What’s winter like? The cold, the Winter Woods… the animals?” Your heart races at the thought of discovering more about the world you’ve only dreamed of, and you can’t help but feel a sense of excitement bubble up inside you.

As Satoru looks at you, he can’t help but notice the genuine intrigue lighting up your features. Your eagerness is palpable, and it draws him in, making him want to share everything about his world. It strikes him then how much you both are alike. You’re two fairies separated by seasons but united by a shared longing to explore the unknown. He senses the whispers of danger that surround both your worlds—caution that urges you to stay safe within your borders. Yet here you are, willing to risk it all for just a glimpse into the other side.

“Winter...” Satoru begins, his voice animated and warm, “is beautiful in its own way. The snow blankets everything, transforming the landscape into something ethereal. It’s a world where silence reigns, broken only by the soft crunch of snow underfoot.” He leans back slightly, relishing the chance to share his beloved Winter Woods with you. “The trees stand tall and bare, their branches heavy with frost. Everything glistens under the moonlight, and during the day, the sun bounces off the snow, creating a million tiny rainbows. The air is crisp and biting, and when it snows, it feels as though the world is wrapped in a soft, white quilt.”

You lean in closer, completely captivated by his enthusiasm. “That sounds so magical,” you breathe, picturing the stunning winter landscape in your mind. “And what about the animals?”

Satoru’s smile widens, his eyes glimmering with excitement. “We have so many fascinating creatures! The snow owls glide silently through the trees. They’re magnificent, with wide wings and piercing golden eyes that seem to see right through the darkness. They’re often our companions on the coldest nights.”

You feel a shiver of delight at the thought. “What else? What do you and the other winter fairies do?”

His expression brightens even more. “We create beauty from the cold. We work together to sculpt intricate designs from the ice, turning the frozen landscape into an art form. Each winter, we host contests to see who can create the most stunning ice sculpture. We build towering castles that sparkle like jewels under the moonlight, and sometimes we carve out entire scenes from folklore, bringing our stories to life.”

You watch him intently, hanging onto his every word. “That sounds amazing and so much fun!” A thought lingers in your mind, stirring curiosity. Just then, a leaf drifts gracefully down from a nearby branch, carried by the wind. It twirls through the air, its vibrant colors standing out against the stark white of the winter woods before landing softly in the cold snow beyond the border. You can’t help but feel a pang of longing as you watch it disappear into the depths of Satoru’s world. “But how do you preserve life in such a harsh environment? Is there a way for you to keep the plants thriving despite the cold?”

A spark of pride ignites in his gaze as he explains, “We blanket the plants with soft ice, preserving their life through the cold. It’s like giving them a gentle hug to keep them warm until spring returns. It’s a way of ensuring that when the thaw comes, everything bursts forth in beauty once more.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but admire the depth of his connection to his world. “So, winter isn’t just about the cold. It’s about creating and protecting life?”

“Exactly,” he replies, nodding enthusiastically. “We are guardians of this season. There’s a harmony in the cold—an understanding that even in the starkness, life continues. Our role is to ensure that beauty thrives beneath the snow. And sometimes, when the northern lights dance across the sky, it feels like the entire world is alive with magic.”

As he speaks, you can see the passion emanating from him, and it fills you with warmth. The way he talks about winter reflects not just his love for his home, but also a deep appreciation for the delicate balance of life and nature.

You feel a connection bloom between you—two fairies sharing their worlds, their dreams, and their hopes. “Maybe we aren’t so different after all,” you say softly, your voice filled with understanding. “Both longing for the other side, yet so intrigued by what lies beyond our reach.”

He nods, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Exactly. That’s why this border is so special. It’s a place where we can share our stories, our dreams, and maybe even bridge the gap between our worlds.”

In that moment, with the moonlight illuminating your shared space, you realize that both of you are bound by an unspoken promise: to continue exploring the unknown, together.

___________

As you stroll back to your home nestled in the heart of Pixie Hollow, surrounded by the warm, familiar glow of the Pixie Dust Tree, a sense of wonder envelops you. The air is rich with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves whispers soft secrets as the night deepens. With each fluttering step, you replay the evening’s enchanting moments in your mind, like a cherished melody playing on repeat.

Satoru's laughter, vibrant and light, echoes in your ears, mingling with the magical stories he shared about the Winter Woods. You can still picture the way his cerulean eyes sparkled as he spoke, the warmth in his voice bringing the cold, frosted landscape to life in your imagination. The thought of snow owls gliding through moonlit skies and winter fairies sculpting ice into delicate art makes your heart flutter with excitement.

You can’t help but smile as you recall the way he looked at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and delight, as if he found joy in sharing his world with you. His passion for the winter realm resonated within you, awakening a longing to experience the beauty he described firsthand.

As you pass under the shimmering lights that adorn your beloved tree, you feel a warm glow within, fueled by the promise of your next encounter. Each step feels lighter, the cool night air filled with the thrill of anticipation. You can hardly wait for the sun to set again, for the moment when you’ll return to that magical border where your two worlds meet.

Your heart races at the thought of venturing back to the edge of the Winter Woods, where frost dances on the branches and a sense of wonder awaits. The excitement of meeting Satoru again, of hearing more stories and sharing your own, fills you with a deep sense of hope. Tonight’s memories are not just fleeting moments; they are the beginning of something extraordinary, a connection that transcends the boundaries of your two realms. And as you reach your home, the anticipation of the next sunset wraps around you like a warm embrace, reminding you that magic lies just beyond the horizon, waiting to unfold.

__________________________

As the sun rose high over Pixie Hollow, its warm golden rays filtered through the vibrant leaves of the pixie dust tree. The gentle hum of the warm-season fairies filled the air as they flitted about, tending to their daily tasks. You fluttered among them, your heart still aglow with the memory of last night's encounter with Satoru. His stories about the Winter Woods echoed in your mind, igniting a sense of wonder you hadn’t felt in ages.

“[Name], are you even listening?” came the teasing voice of Shoko Ieri, your dearest friend and the resident healer. Her brow was furrowed, concern etched across her face as she noticed your distracted demeanor.

You shook your head slightly, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. “Of course, I am! Just… busy thinking about the preparations for my coronation,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been so… smiley today. Are you sure there’s nothing else on your mind? You usually don’t daydream about the coronation this much.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, a bit more nervous than you intended. “It’s just that I want everything to be perfect for the ceremony! You know how important this is for our people.”

She studied you for a moment, her cerulean eyes searching for the truth beneath your words. “Alright, if you say so,” she finally conceded, but you could tell she remained skeptical. “Just remember, if you need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

“Of course! You’re the best,” you said, giving her a reassuring smile as you continued to work, helping other fairies polish the decorations for the coronation.

But as the day wore on, you found your thoughts drifting back to the Winter Woods and Satoru’s enchanting stories of snow-covered landscapes and ice sculptures. Every glance at the sunny blooms around you reminded you of the cold touch of winter and the excitement that surged within you at the thought of seeing him again.

While assisting a group of fairies in gathering vibrant flowers for the decorations, your mind wandered further. You pictured Satoru’s playful grin, the way his cerulean eyes sparkled under the moonlight. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your stomach at the prospect of sneaking away to meet him again. Would he have more stories to share? Would he show you more of his world beyond the border?

“[Name]! Earth to [Name]!” Shoko’s voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to find her chuckling at your absentmindedness. “If you keep daydreaming, you’ll miss your chance to gather the finest petals for your own crown! Come on, focus!”

You nodded, shaking off the thoughts of Satoru for a moment. “Right, right! I’m on it.” You dove back into the task at hand, but the excitement bubbling within you made it nearly impossible to concentrate fully.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, you glanced at Shoko again. “You know,” you said, unable to hold back, “I’m really looking forward to the coronation. It feels like a new beginning.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “I can see that. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Change can be exciting, but it can also bring unexpected challenges.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” you assured her, but your mind was already racing ahead to the evening. With every passing moment, the anticipation of meeting Satoru again grew stronger. You could hardly wait for sundown, when you’d steal away to the border once more, the thrill of the unknown calling to you like a siren’s song.

As the shadows grew longer, you felt a pull in your heart—a blend of exhilaration and nervousness. The sun would set soon, and with it, the chance to explore a world that had captured your imagination. You smiled to yourself, ready to embrace whatever magic awaited you on the other side of the border.

________________________

Satoru Gojo stood at the edge of a snowy cliff overlooking the winter woods, the chill of the air nipping at his cheeks, yet his mind was far from the snow-laden branches and shimmering frost. Instead, his thoughts danced around the image of a warm fairy princess he had met the night before, her laughter lingering like music in his ears. Every detail of that enchanting encounter replayed in his mind—the way her yellow gown fluttered in the evening breeze, how her eyes sparkled with curiosity and warmth, and the genuine excitement that radiated from her as she spoke. It was a stark contrast to the icy realm he ruled.

He was so lost in this reverie that he barely noticed Suguru Geto, his closest friend and fellow winter fairy, standing beside him, arms crossed and brow raised in a mixture of amusement and concern. “Satoru,” Suguru called, breaking through the fog of his daydream. “You’ve been staring off into the distance for a solid minute. Are you plotting a new way to freeze the entire forest again, or is your mind somewhere else entirely?”

Startled back to reality, Satoru shook his head, a sheepish grin creeping across his face. “What? Me? I’m just… appreciating the view.”

“Right,” Suguru replied, skepticism dripping from his voice. “And I suppose that’s why you’ve barely lifted a finger to help the others with the ice sculptures today? I’ve seen glaciers move faster than you.”

Satoru waved a dismissive hand, though he couldn’t suppress the smile that crept onto his lips. “I’m fine, really! Just… had a long night.”

“Long night, huh?” Suguru arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is that what you’re calling it these days? Because it looks more like you’ve been hit by a heatwave.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Satoru turned back to the tasks at hand, joining the other winter fairies who were busy crafting intricate ice sculptures from the frozen streams. Yet, even as he helped shape the sparkling ice, his thoughts kept drifting back to her—the warm fairy princess whose name he had only just begun to learn.

Suguru, ever perceptive, caught on to his distraction again. With a swift and playful smack to the back of Satoru’s head, he brought him back to the present. “Hey! Focus!”

“Ow! What was that for?” Satoru whined, rubbing the back of his head and shooting a glare at Suguru, though the grin on his face betrayed his annoyance.

“What’s up with you today?” Suguru asked, his tone light but probing. “You’re like a snowflake caught in the wind, going everywhere but where you need to be. Spill it, Gojo.”

With a reluctant chuckle, Satoru decided to give in. “Fine, fine. You caught me. I met someone last night.”

“Someone? Do tell!” Suguru leaned in, curiosity lighting up his eyes.

Satoru’s heart quickened as he recalled every detail about the princess. “She’s a warm fairy—a princess, actually. Her name is [Name]. She’s… incredible. So bright and full of life, like the sun itself. We talked for hours, and she’s just… so different from anyone I’ve ever met.”

Suguru’s expression shifted from intrigue to concern. “Wait, you know how dangerous it is to linger near the border, Satoru. Crossing into the warmth? That could be trouble. What if something happened to you?”

“I know, I know,” Satoru replied, brushing aside the warnings. “But it was so easy to talk to her. She’s genuinely curious about our world. You should have seen her eyes light up when I talked about the snow owls and how we preserve life in the Winter Woods. And she has such fascinating stories about her home—how the flowers bloom all year round and butterflies flutter in a riot of colors. Can you imagine that? She described the vibrant colors of autumn that paint the trees in shades of amber and gold, and I felt as though I could almost see it myself.”

Suguru sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Just be careful. I can see how happy you are, but you know the rules for a reason. The warmth can be alluring, but it can also lead to danger.”

Satoru nodded, though a part of him wanted to push the worries away. “I promise I’ll be careful. But there’s something about her… something that draws me in. It feels right.”

Suguru studied him for a moment, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Satoru. You’re my best friend, and seeing you happy is important to me. Just remember that the warmth has its own dangers, even if it feels like magic.”

“I will, I will,” Satoru assured him, a newfound resolve building within him. “But I’m excited to see her again. We’re meeting at sunset tonight. I can’t wait to share more about my world with her.”

“Just don’t get too carried away, alright?” Suguru replied, his tone lightening. “We need you here to keep the ice sculptures from melting.”

With a grin, Satoru replied, “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time to freeze the lake, just for you.”

As they continued their duties, Satoru felt a sense of anticipation swelling within him. Perhaps there was something more to explore, a connection waiting just beyond the border that would open doors he had never thought possible. And as he shared laughter with Suguru, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a new adventure—one that might just thaw the icy boundaries between their worlds.

____________________

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and purple, Satoru Gojo felt a flutter of excitement within him. The vibrant colors seemed to echo his anticipation as he took to the sky, his crystalline wings catching the last rays of light. The cool air rushed past him, invigorating and alive, as he soared towards the border—the sacred line where winter met warmth, his heart racing with eagerness.

As he flew, Satoru admired the beauty of the Winter Woods below. The snow-laden trees sparkled like diamonds under the fading sunlight, and he could see the wisps of icy fog curling up from the ground. This was his realm, the world of frost and quiet, but it felt incomplete without the warmth of the spring fairy he had met just the night before.

Reaching the edge of the border, he settled down on the log at their special meeting spot, his heart full of hope. He leaned back against the cool, smooth bark, feeling a familiar sense of peace wash over him. The divide between their worlds was palpable; on one side, the serene white landscape of winter, and on the other, the warm hues of autumn and the vibrant energy that always seemed to accompany [Name].

As he waited, he allowed his thoughts to drift, reminiscing about her laughter, her bright smile, and the way her wings shimmered like sunlight on water. The image of her—full of life and curiosity—was imprinted in his mind, stirring feelings he hadn’t expected to experience.

Just then, a familiar glimmer caught his eye, and his heart leapt. Emerging from the foliage, [Name] appeared, her wings flapping gently as she glided gracefully toward him. Her gown—a soft yellow that seemed to capture the very essence of sunlight—flowed elegantly around her, and as she drew closer, Satoru’s breath caught in his throat. The way her long brown hair danced in the wind and how her eyes sparkled with joy made her look even more enchanting than he remembered.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, her voice bright and melodious, carrying the warmth of a summer day.

“Of course,” Satoru replied, a wide grin spreading across his face. “We promised, didn’t we?”

As she landed next to him, the world seemed to brighten, the air thick with the palpable energy of their connection. [Name]’s smile illuminated the gathering dusk, and the sight of her brought a warmth to Satoru’s heart that even the coldest winter couldn’t extinguish.

“You’re always punctual, Lord Gojo,” she teased lightly, settling beside him on the log.

“Please, just call me Satoru,” he said, the playful glint in his cerulean eyes matching the light in hers. “I’m not one for titles, especially not when I’m sitting next to such a lovely spring blossom.”

Her cheeks flushed, a soft pink tinting her fair skin. “Alright, Satoru. And you can call me [Name], then,” she replied, her smile widening.

They shared a moment of laughter, the sound mingling with the gentle rustling of the leaves and the whispers of the wind. In that exchange, the boundaries of their worlds felt less imposing, less daunting, as if they were just two friends enjoying a night beneath the stars.

“What did you think about today?” Satoru asked, leaning closer, curiosity shimmering in his gaze. “Did you come prepared with tales of your world?”

[Name] beamed, her eyes lighting up. “I couldn’t wait to tell you more about it. You should see the vibrant fields of flowers in spring, how they stretch for miles. The spring fairies have this beautiful tradition of dancing among them, bringing the blooms to life each day with their laughter.”

“Dancing? That sounds enchanting,” Satoru said, captivated. He imagined the sight vividly, fairies twirling amidst waves of color, laughter ringing through the air. “What about friends? Do you have anyone special you hangout with?”

[Name]’s eyes sparkled with delight as she leaned in closer, eager to share her stories. “Mhmm! There’s Shoko, my best friend. She’s a healer and knows everything there is to know about plants and potions. Her knowledge is incredible! Just the other day, she helped a sick flower bloom again with her remedies. It was a sight to behold!”

Satoru grinned, envisioning the scene. “A healer? Sounds like someone you can always count on when you need help.”

“Oh, for sure!” [Name] nodded enthusiastically. “She’s always there for me, whether it’s helping me prepare for my coronation or simply listening to my thoughts. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” A soft smile touched her lips, warmth evident in her voice as she spoke about her friend.

“What about you?” she asked, turning the conversation toward him. “What about your friends in the Winter Woods?”

Satoru chuckled lightly, scratching the back of his head in thought. “Well, I have Suguru, my longest friend. He’s the serious type, always keeping me grounded,” he said, a fond smile creeping onto his face. “He’s the only one who can smack me out of my daydreams, believe me. But he’s also fiercely loyal. I can always count on him to have my back, even when I’m being... well, me.”

“Oh?” [Name] raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s it like having a friend who keeps you in line?”

“It’s a little annoying, to be honest,” he admitted, laughing. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. He pushes me to be better, to focus on my responsibilities. Just the other day, we were out gathering supplies for the winter festivities, and I was completely distracted, thinking about—well, you know—everything,” he confessed, a hint of shyness coloring his cheeks.

“What were you thinking about?” [Name] asked, leaning in closer, her curiosity piqued.

“Uh, well… you,” Satoru said, a bit sheepishly. “I mean, I just met you, and you’ve already made such an impression on me. It’s hard not to think about someone so bright and lively. Anyway, Suguru caught me daydreaming and smacked the back of my head to bring me back to reality.”

She burst out laughing, her melodious giggles ringing through the air. “Oh no! That sounds painful! But I get it. You’ve made quite the impression on me too.”

Satoru felt warmth spread through him at her words, an unexpected joy flooding his heart. “You really think so?”

“Definitely! Your stories about the Winter Woods and the snow owls—everything you do to keep your world alive—it’s all amazing!” [Name] exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious. “I love hearing about your life. It’s so different from mine.”

Satoru smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “Well, speaking of stories, there was this one time Suguru and I decided to explore deeper into the woods. We ended up getting caught in a snowstorm!” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “I thought we were going to freeze to death! But we built a little snow shelter and waited it out. Suguru kept grumbling about my recklessness while I just sat there, enjoying the snowflakes.”

“Did you have fun despite the storm?” [Name] asked, her eyes wide with intrigue.

“Surprisingly, yes! Watching the snow fall around us was like being in a dream. Plus, the snowball fights we had afterward were legendary! Suguru never stood a chance against my expert aim.” He winked, his confidence shining through.

“You’re quite the adventurer, aren’t you?” she teased, her voice light. “I can’t imagine what a snowball fight looks like with winter fairies. It must be epic!”

“Only the best!” he said proudly. “But it’s nothing compared to your dancing among the flowers. I’d love to see that one day. I bet it’s a sight to behold.”

The moon began to rise, casting a silvery glow around them, but neither of them noticed the time slipping away as they lost themselves in their shared tales, eagerly looking forward to the next chapter of their friendship.

As the days turned into weeks, the sun and moon danced across the sky, marking the passage of time in Pixie Hollow and the Winter Woods. Each evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the horizon with hues of amber and lavender, [Name] and Satoru found themselves drawn to the border once more. The log bridge, once just a crossing point between two worlds, transformed into a sacred space where their connection deepened with each meeting.

Satoru cherished the moments spent beside [Name], his heart fluttering at the sight of her as she flitted gracefully through the air, her wings sparkling like sunlight on water. He’d wait at their spot, excitement bubbling within him, anticipation igniting his spirit. And as she appeared, her radiant smile would light up the night, washing away the chill that lingered in the air.

They talked about everything and nothing, sharing their hopes, dreams, and secrets under the vast tapestry of stars. [Name] would tell Satoru about the vibrant flowers in her land, painting vivid pictures of sprawling meadows filled with blossoms that danced with the breeze. Satoru listened intently, his heart swelling with admiration, fascinated by how deeply she cared for her world and those in it.

Conversely, [Name] found herself enchanted by Satoru’s tales of winter. He painted a portrait of a world blanketed in white, where icicles hung like chandeliers from branches, and the air was filled with the soft hooting of snow owls. She could almost feel the cold air brushing against her cheeks as he spoke, the magic of his words transporting her to his frozen realm.

But it wasn’t just the stories that captivated them; it was the connection that bloomed between them—a bond forged in laughter, curiosity, and unspoken understanding. The more they met, the more they revealed their true selves. Satoru admired [Name]’s strength and determination, her ability to remain steadfast even when faced with the burdens of her responsibilities as a princess. He saw how fiercely she cared for her people, her laughter a breath of fresh air that brightened the somber winter nights.

In return, [Name] admired Satoru’s playful spirit and unwavering confidence. He had a way of making the world feel lighter, as if the burdens they both carried could be shared through their friendship. She found herself looking forward to his laughter, the warmth of his presence enveloping her like a comforting blanket. He had a knack for turning mundane moments into magical ones, filling her nights with joy and excitement.

As time wove its intricate tapestry, they began to notice subtle changes within themselves. The laughter shared transformed into something deeper, a current of unspoken feelings flowing between them. Satoru would find himself stealing glances at [Name], his heart racing whenever their eyes met. The way her laughter echoed in the night air resonated within him, a melody he could never forget.

Meanwhile, [Name] felt a flutter in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain. It was more than friendship; it was a warmth that spread through her, igniting a longing to be closer, to know Satoru in ways that transcended mere conversation. She found herself daydreaming about their next meeting, her heart racing at the thought of sharing yet another night beneath the stars.

One evening, as they sat together at the border, the air thick with anticipation, Satoru brushed a stray lock of hair from [Name]’s face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her, her breath catching in her throat. She looked up, her heart pounding as she met his gaze. The moment stretched between them, a fragile silence filled with unspoken words, each one swirling with possibility.

“I…” Satoru began, his voice soft but earnest. But before he could finish, the moment was interrupted by the sudden sound of a distant hoot, pulling them back to reality. They exchanged shy smiles, but both knew that the atmosphere had shifted. Something had changed between them, and they could no longer ignore the feelings brewing just beneath the surface.

As the nights continued to unfold, they began to embrace these feelings, dancing around the truth like fireflies in the summer dusk. [Name] would catch herself stealing glances at Satoru, her heart racing as he animatedly recounted tales of winter adventures, the way his blue eyes sparkled with passion making her stomach flutter. Satoru, too, would often find himself lost in thought, imagining what it would be like to hold her hand, to feel her warmth against him, to share not just their worlds but their hearts.

Each night they spent together was a delicate dance of friendship and burgeoning affection. They would talk about their dreams, their fears, and their futures, always staying just shy of crossing that invisible line. They were bound by the knowledge of the dangers that lurked beyond their worlds—the whispers of disapproval from their respective realms, the looming responsibilities that awaited them. Yet, in those moments by the border, they carved out a sanctuary where the outside world faded away.

Then came a night when the stars shone brighter than ever, their light reflecting off the snow, creating a breathtakingly beautiful scene. [Name] watched in awe, her eyes wide with wonder, as Satoru caught a snowflake on his outstretched palm. “See?” he grinned, turning to her. “Winter is magical, isn’t it?”

“It truly is,” she agreed, her heart swelling with admiration for him. The snowflakes twinkled in the moonlight, casting a soft glow around them. It was as if the universe itself conspired to create a perfect moment for them.

As they continued to sit side by side, the air was thick with unvoiced emotions. [Name] turned to Satoru, her heart pounding in her chest, and the words that had been dancing on the tip of her tongue finally tumbled forth. “Satoru, I—”

But he interrupted, his voice gentle and sincere. “I know, [Name]. I feel it too.” His blue eyes searched hers, holding a depth of understanding that made her breath hitch. “It’s more than just friendship, isn’t it?”

Her heart raced as she nodded, feeling the weight of their shared emotions settle between them. The air crackled with energy, the world around them fading as they leaned closer, caught in the magnetic pull of one another. In that moment, they both realized that what they felt was undeniable—a beautiful intertwining of two hearts longing to bridge the gap between their worlds.

Yet, as they sat there, a hush enveloping them, uncertainty crept in. The awareness of their different worlds lingered like a shadow. They hesitated, caught in the delicate balance of newfound feelings and the unspoken fears that held them back. Satoru could see the conflict in [Name]’s eyes, a flicker of longing mingling with doubt.

“Maybe we should take it slow,” he suggested, a hint of reluctance in his voice, as if to protect the fragile bond they had forged. “There’s so much we don’t know about each other, and our worlds are... complicated.”

“Yeah,” [Name] agreed softly, her heart sinking a little. “It’s just… I never expected to feel this way about you.” The words hung in the air between them, a mixture of hope and apprehension.

“Me neither,” Satoru confessed, his gaze lingering on her, a mixture of admiration and longing dancing in his eyes. “But I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“Me neither,” she echoed, a smile breaking through the uncertainty. “Let’s just enjoy this, then. Whatever ‘this’ is.”

As they sat together, enveloped in the magical night, they made a silent pact to cherish their friendship and the growing connection between them, even if they weren’t ready to act on it just yet. They would continue to meet at the border, sharing their lives, dreams, and stories—building a foundation for something more, one precious moment at a time.

________________

The sun filtered through the leaves of Pixie Hollow, casting dappled shadows across the ground as [Name] flitted about, her wings shimmering with a newfound vibrancy. Each day had felt like a page from a dream since she had met Satoru. She couldn't help but smile as she recalled their enchanting conversations under the stars, the warmth of his presence that contrasted so beautifully with the chill of his realm. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, a heady mixture of excitement and longing that painted her world in shades of wonder.

However, her exuberance hadn’t gone unnoticed. Shoko had observed the subtle changes in [Name]’s demeanor. Shoko was wise beyond her years, possessing a keen intuition that often led her to the heart of matters before they fully revealed themselves. With each passing day, she saw [Name]’s smiles grow brighter, her laughter more effervescent, as if a hidden light had ignited within her. But it was not just the smiles that raised Shoko’s concern; it was the way [Name] often drifted off into daydreams, her gaze distant, as if she were peering through the veil that separated their worlds.

One afternoon, as they settled on a mossy patch beneath an ancient oak, Shoko’s curiosity could no longer be contained. “You seem… different lately,” she remarked, tilting her head slightly, her golden hair cascading over her shoulder. “I mean it in the best way possible, but you’ve been smiling a lot more. Almost like you’re in love.”

Caught off guard, [Name] felt her cheeks heat up at the mention of love, her heart skipping a beat. She had never been one to hide her emotions, but the connection she shared with Satoru felt so profound, so delicate, that she had hesitated to speak of it. Still, Shoko’s gentle probing coaxed the truth from her.

“I—well, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” [Name] finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. As she looked into Shoko’s eyes, she saw a mixture of anticipation and concern reflected back at her. It encouraged her to continue. “I met someone. At the border, on a night when the moon was full and bright.”

The words spilled out, a torrent of excitement and trepidation. [Name] recounted the night of their first meeting, describing Satoru’s striking white hair, the way his blue eyes glimmered with mischief and warmth. She spoke of their shared stories, the enchanting evenings spent under the starlit sky, where laughter rang like chimes in the breeze. The memories flowed easily, and with each detail shared, she felt the weight of her secret lift. She spoke of their meetings, how they had become a cherished part of her existence, like the changing seasons that brought new life to her world.

But as she continued, she could see the shift in Shoko’s expression. The initial glimmer of excitement in her eyes began to fade, replaced by concern that etched deeper lines into her brow. Shoko listened intently, her posture tense as she absorbed the words spilling from [Name]’s heart. When [Name] finally finished her tale, there was a heavy silence that settled between them, the soft rustle of leaves filling the air.

“You know this isn’t just some innocent romance, right?” Shoko finally spoke, her voice firm but gentle. “You’re aware of the dangers, [Name]? Winter fairies dwell in their realm for a reason. The temperature change—”

“I know, I know,” [Name] interjected, a hint of impatience creeping into her tone. She had been grappling with the reality of their situation, the inherent risks that loomed like shadows over their growing bond. “But Satoru is… he’s incredible, Shoko. He makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never felt before. We understand each other, and I can’t just walk away from that.”

Shoko sighed, her expression softening as she took [Name]’s hands in hers, their fingers intertwined. “I see how happy you are, and I want that for you. But love is complicated, especially when it involves crossing the borders of our worlds. What if something happens? What if he gets too close and you’re unable to survive the cold?”

[Name] could feel her heart sink at the thought. She had been so wrapped up in the magic of their connection that she hadn’t fully considered the consequences of their actions. But every time she thought of Satoru, the warmth he brought into her life, her resolve strengthened. “But what if I miss out on something extraordinary? I’ve always dreamed of knowing more than just Pixie Hollow. Satoru gives me that chance.”

Shoko remained quiet, her gaze searching [Name]’s face, as if weighing the sincerity of her words. Finally, she spoke, her tone softening. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt. You have a beautiful heart, and it deserves to be protected.”

“I promise to be careful,” [Name] assured her, squeezing Shoko’s hands tightly. “But I also need you to trust me. I can handle this. I know it’s risky, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Shoko nodded, albeit reluctantly, the weight of her concern still heavy on her shoulders. “I trust you, [Name]. Just… promise me you’ll keep an open mind about what’s best for you. And remember, I’m here for you, no matter what happens.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow across the landscape, [Name] felt a wave of relief wash over her. The burden of secrecy had been lifted, and she was grateful for Shoko’s understanding, even if it came with a hint of worry. They remained seated in comfortable silence for a while, the bond of their friendship reaffirmed, but [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling that the path ahead would be anything but simple.

And as she thought of Satoru, a blend of excitement and apprehension churned within her. She was ready to embrace the unknown, but she also knew the challenges that lay ahead. With a heart full of hope and a resolve to navigate whatever came her way, [Name] prepared to face the future, one magical night at a time.

___________________________

The moon hung like a glowing pearl in the velvety sky, casting a serene light over the border that separated the warm realm from the cold Winter Woods. The air was thick with anticipation, charged with an energy that neither [Name] nor Satoru could ignore any longer. They sat side by side at their familiar spot, where the glimmering fairy dust intertwined with the soft snow, both acutely aware of the feelings simmering just beneath the surface.

For weeks, they had exchanged stories and laughter, their bond growing stronger with each stolen moment. Yet tonight felt different; a powerful urge lingered in the space between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of what they both yearned for but had hesitated to voice. Satoru’s heart raced as he glanced at [Name], her warm presence igniting a fire within him. The way her eyes sparkled under the moonlight drew him in, making it increasingly difficult to resist the pull between them.

“I wish I could show you my world,” she began, her voice soft but filled with passion. “The colors of the flowers in bloom, the gentle rustle of leaves… it’s all so magical.” The longing in her voice stirred something deep within him, a wish to experience all the warmth and vibrancy she spoke of. But as the words left her lips, he felt the weight of their situation—a chasm between their worlds that felt insurmountable.

“Satoru, what if…” [Name] hesitated, her brow furrowing as she met his gaze, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “What if it’s too dangerous for you to come to my side? The warmth—”

He leaned closer, his expression earnest. “I want to be with you, [Name]. No matter the risk.” His determination resonated in the air, making her pulse quicken. Yet, she could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the fear of the unknown that lingered beneath his bravado.

“I can’t let you get hurt,” she replied, concern lacing her tone. “You don’t know what the warmth can do to you.”

But Satoru was resolute. The thought of being apart from her any longer felt unbearable. “I would rather feel the warmth and risk it all than stay on my side, longing for you. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

The moment hung between them, charged with possibility. He knew the risks, yet the prospect of crossing that boundary felt monumental. After what felt like an eternity of searching each other’s eyes, Satoru took a deep breath and stepped forward, standing at the edge of the border where winter met warmth.

“Let me show you what it’s like to be here with me.” The sincerity in his voice softened the tension between them. He glanced back at her, excitement mingling with a hint of nervousness.

After a moment of hesitation, [Name] finally nodded, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and concern. “Okay, but promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” he assured her, determination igniting within him.

With a final glance to solidify his resolve, Satoru took that crucial step across the line. The moment he crossed into her world, a wave of warmth enveloped him, a rush of sensations unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt as though the sun itself had wrapped him in its embrace, igniting every nerve ending in his body. His wings tingled with an electrifying sensation, as if they were awakening to a reality he had longed to know.

He glanced around in disbelief, soaking in the vibrant colors surrounding him. The autumn leaves danced playfully in the breeze, the air fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. It was a stark contrast to the snowy landscape of Winter Woods he had always known.

“We’re… together,” he whispered, awe washing over him as he turned to face [Name]. Her eyes sparkled with joy and relief, a mirror to his own emotions. The thrill of finally being in the same world, of closing the distance that had kept them apart for so long, was intoxicating.

As they stood there, heartbeats quickening in unison, an electric tension filled the space between them. They hesitated, caught in the moment of realization that they had crossed not just the physical boundary but an emotional one as well.

With an instinctive pull, they surged into each other’s arms, holding on tightly as if afraid to let go. Satoru lifted her off the ground, twirling her under the moonlight, laughter bubbling up as they reveled in the sheer joy of being together.

The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and magic. When he finally set her down, they remained close, unwilling to break the contact that felt so right. Their eyes sparkled with happiness, love filling the space that had once felt impossibly vast.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” [Name] breathed, her heart soaring as she gazed up at him. “I want to show you everything! The gardens, the streams, the sunset over the valley… there’s so much to see!” Her excitement bubbled over, each word laced with the enthusiasm of sharing her world.

Satoru’s heart swelled with warmth, a smile breaking across his face as he envisioned all the moments they could share together. “I want to see it all with you,” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. The thrill of the adventure ahead made his heart race faster.

In that moment, everything felt possible. They stood in each other’s space, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, both knowing this was a turning point—a moment that would define the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. As they shared smiles filled with love and longing, the world around them felt vibrant, alive, and filled with endless potential.

As Satoru stood, enveloped in the warmth of [Name]'s world, an exhilarating thrill coursed through him—until, quite suddenly, he felt a peculiar heat begin to radiate from the tips of his wings. It started as a gentle tingle, but it quickly intensified, spreading through the delicate, shimmering membranes like wildfire. A shocked yelp escaped his lips, and he fell to his knees, his heart racing with alarm.

The pleasant warmth that had enveloped him moments before morphed into something alarming, an unsettling sensation that made his skin prickle. He could feel the sweat pooling on his brow as he struggled to understand what was happening. Panic surged within him as he looked down, horrified to see that the edges of his wings were beginning to melt, the ethereal strands dissolving into a shimmering mist that drifted away like fireflies in the night.

“[Name]!” he gasped, his voice strained, a mixture of fear and confusion coloring his tone. He could feel the heat intensifying, and his heart raced with panic. “Something’s wrong!”

At the sound of his distress, [Name] knelt before him, her eyes wide with concern. “Satoru! What’s happening?” she cried, panic rising in her chest as she studied him closely. The realization hit her like a blow: his wings were melting away, and with it, a part of his very being. “We need to get you back to the winter side!”

She reached out, her hands trembling as she grasped his shoulders, willing him to rise. “Come on, we have to hurry!”

Satoru could only nod, his breath coming in shallow gasps as the heat threatened to overwhelm him. “I… I don’t know if I can,” he panted, every fiber of his being screaming for the cold, for the solace of the winter woods. But despite his fear, a part of him was terrified to move away from her warmth.

“Please!” [Name] urged, her voice laced with urgency. She could see the fear in his eyes, the realization dawning that he was losing a part of himself. “You need to get to the cold! I’ll help you!”

With her support, he staggered to his feet, and together they hurried toward the border. Each step felt agonizingly slow as the heat continued to spread, pulling him down with an invisible weight. The world around them began to blur, the vibrant colors of autumn fading into a muted haze as he focused on [Name] and the urgency of their situation.

Finally, they reached the border, the cool air of Winter Woods brushing against his skin like a balm, but it was too late. The moment he crossed back into his world, Satoru felt a sharp pain jolt through him—a raw, wrenching sensation that echoed through his body.

He gasped, looking back over his shoulder just in time to see a fragment of one of his wings break off, fluttering down to the ground like a fallen leaf. It shimmered for a brief moment before settling into the snow, a stark reminder of the price he had just paid.

“No… no, no,” he whispered, disbelief and horror flooding his senses. “This can’t be happening.”

From her kneeling position beside him, [Name] felt a deep, crushing weight settle in her chest as she watched the severed piece of Satoru’s wing fall away. The realization hit her like a tidal wave—she had urged him to cross, had pushed him into this dangerous situation, and now he was paying the price. Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and painful, as guilt gnawed at her heart.

“What have I done?” she thought, the weight of her emotions crashing down around her like a storm. The reality of their actions felt suffocating, a burden she never wanted to bear. How could she have let this happen? He was brave, so brave for stepping across that boundary, but it was her warmth that had drawn him in, that had made him disregard the danger. She had encouraged him, ignited his desire to explore her world, but it felt as if she had set fire to the very wings he had always known.

“[Name]…” Satoru’s voice broke through her thoughts, gentle yet filled with a profound understanding. He turned to her, eyes softening despite the pain etched on his face. “It’s not your fault,” he reassured her, reading the guilt and sorrow that clouded her thoughts as if they were written across her heart. “I wanted to cross. You didn’t force me. I insisted on it.”

But the weight of his words did little to lift the heaviness in her heart. “I should have known better,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “You could have been hurt—”

“And yet here we are,” he interjected softly, his expression unwavering. “I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant being here with you.”

The sincerity in his gaze melted a portion of her guilt, yet the image of his broken wing lingered in her mind, a haunting reminder of the danger they had danced around for so long. “But your wing—what does this mean for you?” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes as she grasped his hands.

“It’s just a part of who I am,” he replied, a faint smile touching his lips despite the circumstances. “I’m still here. I’m still me.”

The determination in his voice resonated deeply within her, but it was overshadowed by the fear that laced her heart. She couldn’t shake the worry that he would always carry a piece of her decision with him—a reminder of the moment they had crossed a line neither of them could truly understand.

Tears continued to cascade down [Name]'s cheeks, each droplet a testament to the turmoil swirling within her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Satoru’s broken wing, the sight sending fresh waves of despair crashing over her. This was really bad. The realization hit her with the force of a winter storm: his life would be irrevocably changed. No longer would he soar gracefully through the air, wings outstretched beneath the pale moonlight. The thought of Satoru never flying again felt like a dagger to her heart.

The soft glow of the moon illuminated the delicate edges of his wings, now marred by the injury, and the warmth of the night suddenly felt suffocating. She could sense Satoru’s gaze on her, desperately trying to catch her eye, but she was too afraid to meet his stare. She turned away, her heart heavy with the weight of her emotions. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken fears and regrets, as she struggled to process the gravity of their situation.

"Maybe this isn’t a good idea," she finally whispered, her voice quaking with emotion. The words felt foreign, a painful admission that shattered the fragile hope they had built together. "We can’t… we can’t be together like this. Winter fairies and warm fairies should stay apart. It’s too dangerous." She swallowed hard, forcing back the sob that threatened to escape. "Look at what just happened."

Satoru’s heart sank at her words, each syllable striking him like an icy gust of wind. It felt as though the ground beneath him had cracked, opening a chasm that threatened to swallow them both. He wanted to argue, to refute her claims, but the sight of her anguish made his resolve waver. He could see the pain in her eyes, the way she fought to stay strong even as her world felt like it was crumbling around her.

“[Name], please,” he urged, his voice thick with emotion. “We can figure this out. We just need to be careful—”

But she shook her head, her soft hair catching the moonlight as she turned away. "No, Satoru. You don’t understand. This isn’t just about us anymore. This is about your safety, your future.” Her voice cracked, and the sorrow in her tone sent a pang of guilt through him.

In that moment, he felt as if he were losing her all over again. The weight of her words settled heavily in the pit of his stomach, suffocating the flicker of hope he had clung to so fiercely. “But we have something special,” he insisted, the desperation in his voice rising. “I don’t want to give that up.”

“I know,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, but there was a resolute edge to it that made his heart ache. “But look at what just happened to you. Your wings… it’s irreversible. I can’t let you risk any more for me.”

Satoru felt a profound heaviness in his chest, a feeling he had never experienced before. He had always been the brave one, the protector of the Winter Woods, yet here he was, feeling helpless and vulnerable. The urge to argue against her was strong, but he could see how hard she was trying to convince herself of the truth in her own words. He noticed the way she held back, how her body seemed tense, ready to flee from him, from the danger he had so foolishly embraced.

As much as he wanted to fight for them, to push against the boundaries their worlds had set, he couldn’t ignore the pain etched on her face. “If that’s what you truly want,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips like ash, “then… I’ll agree.”

Her heart raced at his response, a mix of relief and sorrow flooding her senses. She turned back to face him, tears still glistening in her eyes. “You don’t—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re right. I see it now. The danger is real, and I never wanted to put you in harm’s way.” Each word felt like a heavy stone, settling into the depths of his heart, and with each passing moment, it became harder to breathe. “I understand why we shouldn’t cross this line anymore.”

The realization weighed heavily upon them both, a somber agreement that bound their hearts with an unbreakable thread. They were standing on opposite sides of a chasm, and for the first time, the reality of their worlds settled heavily upon their shoulders. He could see it in her eyes—the uncertainty, the longing, and the heartbreak that mirrored his own. Their bond, once so vibrant and full of possibilities, felt like a delicate glass figurine, teetering on the brink of shattering.

But beneath that weight of sorrow, a flicker of understanding emerged. They both cared deeply for each other; they both wanted to protect the other. And in that moment of shared grief, Satoru realized that their connection transcended the borders that divided their worlds. Though they were forced to remain apart, the bond they had forged would forever be a part of them, an unbreakable tie that distance could never sever.

“Maybe one day, when the worlds aren’t so harsh…” [Name] began, her voice trailing off, leaving the sentence hanging between them like a fragile promise.

Satoru nodded, the hope in her voice igniting a spark within him. “Yeah, maybe one day. But until then, we’ll find a way to carry each other in our hearts.”

Slowly, [Name] stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest, unsure of what she was about to do. She looked deep into Satoru’s eyes, searching for something—an assurance, a promise that they would be okay despite the distance that now lay between them. It was then that she felt the pull of something undeniable, a yearning that had grown stronger with every shared moment they had experienced together.

In that instant, she reached up, her hand trembling slightly as she brushed her fingers against his cheek. Satoru felt his breath hitch, his heart racing in response to her touch. There was an intensity in the air, a moment that felt like a breath held in anticipation. It was both a farewell and an acknowledgment of the bond they had created.

And then, she leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her lips met his softly, a gentle brush that sent a jolt of electricity through both their bodies. It was a kiss filled with the weight of unspoken words, a lingering promise of what could have been. Tears streamed silently down [Name]'s cheeks, mingling with the warmth of their shared breath, the saltiness of her sorrow sweetened by the love they both felt.

Satoru closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully embrace the moment. He leaned into the kiss, his heart swelling with a mix of joy and despair. He let a single tear fall, breaking the fragile equilibrium of their emotions. It rolled down his cheek, a tangible representation of the turmoil in his heart. This kiss felt like an eternity, a perfect snapshot in time where the world around them ceased to exist, and nothing else mattered except for the warmth they shared.

When their lips finally parted, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against one another as they tried to gather themselves. Satoru’s heart ached as he searched [Name]’s eyes, hoping to find solace in the depths of her gaze.

“Be careful on your way back,” she whispered, her voice trembling, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. Her heart felt heavy with the weight of goodbye, but she knew it was necessary.

He nodded, unable to find the words as he watched her begin to pull away, the distance between them growing once more. The quiet sorrow echoed between them, each moment stretching painfully as they stood on the border of their worlds.

With one last glance, [Name] spread her wings wide, the soft luminescence surrounding her illuminating the darkness. She took off, soaring into the night sky, leaving Satoru standing alone at the border, a figure of winter amidst the vibrant hues of the warm lands.

His heart felt heavy as he watched her fly away, each beat echoing the emptiness left behind. The sight of her gradually fading into the distance made him feel as if a part of him was being torn away. He knew they had to be apart, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Satoru stood there, his wings drooping slightly, feeling the chill of the winter woods settle around him, grounding him in the stark reality of their situation.

He took a deep breath, letting the night air fill his lungs, trying to quell the longing that surged within him. Though they had shared a moment that would linger in his heart forever, the sorrow of their parting weighed heavily on him. “Goodbye,” he murmured softly to the empty air, his voice barely audible. He knew that he would carry her with him, always, even if they were worlds apart.

From that day forward, a solemn rule was established, known to every fairy—both winter and warm—that crossing the border was strictly forbidden, ensuring that their worlds would forever remain apart.

[scarletlizzard]

Part 4: Cat and Mouse

Sessions Series

Parings: dark Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, mentions of gun/knife, choking, strap on usage (R receiving), major manipulation, toxic, stalker

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you, everyone, for reading my first series! It's been so fun to write. If you have any questions, let me know! I'm thinking of writing an epilogue for it if yall are interested? To show where they are now. Let me know what y'all think 🩷

Early Spring 2016

Wanda tilts her head to the side, a smile on her face as she looks at the painting on the wall.

It's a Renaissance-style painting. A woman draped in elegant attire is depicted running gracefully across a grandiose landscape. Her flowing garments billow behind her as she glances over her shoulder with a mix of fear and excitement in her wide eyes.

Behind her, a single shadow looms ominously, its form elongated and exaggerated. The scene is bathed in soft, golden light, casting long shadows and creating a sense of darkness.

The woman's delicate features and intricate clothing are painted with meticulous detail, while the surrounding scenery showcases the artist's mastery of perspective and depth. The painting seems to capture the eternal struggle between light and darkness.

Wanda felt drawn to it. Something about it was pulling her in. This was her fourth time coming to see it, the gallery being just down the block from her office.

"Haunting, isn't it?" A voice, possibly the most alluring voice she had ever heard, speaks from next to her.

"It's breathtaking," Wanda mutters. Her eyes focus on the woman in the painting, then to the dark shadow behind her.

"The shadow, it never stops chasing her. She's constantly looking back over her shoulder, wondering.." The voice speaks again.

"Wondering what?" Wanda asks.

"Wondering when she'll be caught. It's all a game, see?" A finger points to the small plaque underneath the painting. The title of it read:

Cat and Mouse

***

Current Winter 2018

You felt a sense of deja vu as you ran throughout the house. A sense of unexpected excitement flows through you as your feet carry you to the front door - locked.

As you run down the hallway, your breathing picks up. You hear Wandas loud steps stalking behind you at an even pace. The back door - locked.

Down another hall, door after door - locked.

Running up the stairs you take in Wandas words,

"When I find you, I will fuck you."

You couldn't ignore the ache between your legs or the partial truth to her reasoning.

Had you gone and sought out for a stalker? No, but once your shadow appeared, your life became more interesting. You felt a spark inside of you, and you felt it last night, too.

You find an open door and shut it behind you, quickly locking it. With your back against the hard wood, you take a second to catch your breath. When you hear footsteps from the end of the hall, you also hear Wandas voice.

"Don't forget what I said, darling.." A door opens and closes, the footsteps draw nearer.

A small smile plays on your lips.

You were just as fucked up as she was.

***

Early Spring 2016

Wanda turns to the woman next to her, taking in her bewitching appearance.

"Did you paint this?" Wanda asks. You nod, smiling as you stare at your art.

"I did. I still can't believe it's here," you chuckle to yourself. She watches curiously as you tap your leg 4 times with your finger.

"It's amazing. You are truly talented.." Wanda continues to stare at you.

"Thank you, it's... it's very personal," you say with a nod, turning to the stranger. "She needs the shadow to keep pushing forward, but she'll never admit it to herself."

Before either of you can say anything else, your phone rings. "Excuse me for a moment," you say with a smile, answering the call.

"Hey mom, is everything okay?" Wanda hears you ask as you walk away from her.

She looks at the painting, then to you standing on the other side of the room. A smile slid into a crooked grin on her face, and Wanda knew it was fate.

***

Current Winter 2018

You look around the room you entered, some sort of a guest bedroom. You needed a way out.. Right?

Yes, you needed to get out.

You move around the room, looking for some type of makeshift weapon, but find no such thing. Wandas footsteps stop outside the door, you stand still near the neatly made bed.

"I know you're in there, pretty girl.." The door knob wiggles as she tries to open it, finding it locked. Wanda chuckles darkly.

"Dear Shadow," her voice carries through the door, your eyes widen. There was no way she knew the next words.

"You scare me.. You frighten me.."

"Stop it!" You scream, putting your hands over your ears.

"You scare me because I'm afraid I'll never be able to live a normal life. You frighten me because I like being chased.." Wanda quotes the note you left, the one you thought was locked away in a box underneath a pile of clothes in your closet. The door handle wiggles again.

"You make me feel something, something I know isn't right. I won't play your game.." She finishes talking. And you feel your hands shaking.

"H-How did you get that note?" You ask, fists balled up at your sides. You think back to a session where Wanda even asked you about the note. A note she apparently had, for how long you weren't sure.

"Do you really think I've only been inside of your house the once? You're smarter than that little mouse."

Your stomach dropped again, a sick feeling in your gut at the realization of her words. Wanda had been more a part of your life than you had even realized.

***

Late Summer 2016

Wanda watches from across the street, hidden in the shadows as you unpack boxes in your new home. It had been two months since your mother's funeral, 4 months since she began watching you. She dropped the cigarette she was smoking onto the ground, kicking it out with her foot. She watches as a red-headed woman helps you hang up a painting on the wall. Wanda smiles. It was almost time to begin the game.

***

Fall 2016

"Natasha? Hey!" Wanda says with a perfect smile, a hand runs through her hair.

"Oh my god, hey! We just keep running into each other." Natasha smiles warmly.

Happenstance, right ... Wanda thinks to herself as the red head reaches out her hand. She shakes Natashas' hand with a friendly grip.

"I know it's so crazy! Hey, do you want to grab a coffee sometime? Might as well if we're going to keep seeing each other around," Wanda laughs and looks around the grocery store she's never shopped at before.

"That would be so great, I know a great cafe just down the block.."

***

Winter 2016

Wanda stands outside in the shadows. The same red wine is poured into a glass as you stir a pot on the stove. She watches as you look through the window, squinting your eyes. You shake your head and gulp the rest of the wine down, not knowing you were staring right at her.

A vibrate from her pocket pulls her attention, and she looks at the text she received:

Natasha- Hey Wanda! Throwing a Christmas party next Saturday. You in?

Wanda- I'll be there.

You saw in the corner of the room a woman, standing alone. Her eyes watch over the room as she sips out of a red solo cup. She looks.. familiar, you can't quite place it. With the confidence of Rum on your tongue, you walk over to the angelic looking woman. She has a crooked smile on her face as you approach her.

"Wanda," she says after you introduce yourself. It wasn't long after that you were screaming the name for hours in your bedroom.

***

Current Winter 2018

"Now open the door, darling.." Wanda says. You hear 4 taps on the door, not from her hand. You can only assume it was by the knife you saw her unsheathe downstairs.

"And then what? What's the endgame, Wanda?" You ignore her command, standing in front of the door as you question her. She's silent for a while, so quiet you began to wonder if she had disappeared.

"Tell me you don't like the chase. Tell me you hate the way I make you feel. Tell me you want me to stop," she speaks calmly, voice unwavering. You can practically hear the smile on her face as she says, "Tell me all of those things, pretty girl. And if you say it, if you mean it.. I will leave you alone. You can go back to your regular, boring life. The same routine every day. No one chasing after you, pushing you forward. No more shadows."

You swallow hard at her words, mouth open to speak, but no words come out. Wanda will leave you alone, just tell her you're done. Back to reality. Back to...

Wanda stands outside the door, waiting for too long. She reaches into her pocket and takes out a key, unlocking the door. When she opens it all the way, she feels a cool air blowing strands of her hair back. Wanda looks around once. You were nowhere to be found. She laughs and shakes her head, walking to the open window where the breeze flows into the room. Snow floating in gently.

You couldn't say those words to her and mean it. Wanda had run into your life and caused chaos, but you wouldn't be truthful if you said it was already fucked up. With Wanda you felt alive. You felt important. You couldn't live without the dangerous chase.

With windswept hair and an exhilarated look on your face, you dash through a pristine blanket of snow, your bare feet leaving delicate imprints behind you. With each step, a mix of excitement and trepidation dances across your features, your heart racing with the thrill of the moment. The feeling of the snow sticking to your hair and the flakes underneath you heightens the sense of vulnerability and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It didn't take long for you to hear the familiar pace of Wandas stride coming from behind you.

You make for the trees.

***

Summer 2017

Wanda unscrews another bolt, wiping the sweat that dripped down to her brow. She stands from the AC unit on the side of your house, the mechanical noise coming to a halt. The birds in the trees above her chirped loudly, signaling the sun rising from a distance. She walks away, with each step assuring her imminent return.

****

Current Winter 2018

You find solace behind a tree. Gasping for air, your chest heaving with each breath. As you glance around, all you see are dark trees speckled white with snow. The treetops covered the forest that stood behind Wandas house, the sun peaking through its leaves and branches to light a golden path on the mossy ground.

A branch breaks from behind you. Your hands move to cover your mouth as you hear the steps of your shadow.

****

Summer 2017

"Such a pretty little mouse..."

Wanda sat on top of you, relishing in how easy it was to sneak in. How your body barely fought her off.

"Leave me alone!" You whimper, shaking your head to remove her hand off of your lip.

"Why? We've only just begun pretty girl," her voice makes your chest tighten. You watch with careful eyes as she reaches behind her back, pulling out a gun.

Wanda slides the barrel against your cheek, watching the fear in your eyes. The gun slides down your rapidly moving chest...

And then she sets it down on the floor beside your head.

"You can use it any time you like.. but I know you won't, little mouse," she husks down at you. "You want me here.. you like the idea of a shadow watching over you every day. The feeling I can just walk in at any time.." Wanda chuckles darkly.

Before you can say anything or wonder where her hands are going, you feel a sharp needle prick your neck. You immediately feel your eyes become heavy, your vision blurring as your shadow removes her mask. Features blurry enough that you can't make her out.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N.."

You awake the next morning on the couch with a start, gasping as you look around the room with wide eyes. The pounding in your head and the nauseous feeling in your stomach convinced you that you must have had too much to drink. It was just a bad dream.

But then your eyes catch sight, on the coffee table in front of you, a small black gun.

One that you would wave down the street looking for your shadow, screaming to no one that if they didn't come out, you would kill yourself.

One that you would lie to the police about, saying you bought it off a junkie at the docks to protect your shadow.

The shadow was yours, after all, to deal with.

****

Current Winter 2018

As you stand still like prey avoiding your predator, you hear a subtle sound of a bell ringing. A bell you knew to be followed by a blow of a deep horn as a boat leaves the dock. You wait a second... two... three...

A deep horn sounds from in the direction straight ahead of you.

Excitement sparks in your chest as you mentally prepare yourself to do what you do best, run.

You don't look back once, but you know Wanda is following. Your ears twitch as you hear her pace quicken behind you, branches and twigs snapping around the two of you as you make for the dock. The trees begin to clear, and you spot the water, a dock spanning so far you can't see the end of it, along the shore. You run towards a wooden boathouse attached to the dock that didn't look too far, hoping you could make it before Wanda emerges from the trees.

You sit low on the ground of the wood surface, and water splashes below you. A small boat floated inside, covered with a tarp, along with random tables and boxes filled with fishing supplies. As you look out the window, you see Wanda at the edge of the woods, her eyes searching the many places you could be. You duck down, not willing to risk being spotted.

***

Late Summer 2017

"I really fucked up, Wanda.." Pietro sighs into the phone.

Wanda shakes her head, watching from afar as you pace the living room.

"Shit, Pietro," she sighs loudly and walks away, around the corner. "I'll book a flight in the morning."

****

Spring 2018

"I'm so happy you're back.." Natasha smiles at her friend, sipping the coffee she held in her hands, the smiling not quite reaching her eyes.

"What's wrong, Nat?" Wanda says, resting her hand on top of Natasha.

"It's my friend, Y/N. I've told you about her," she says, Wanda nods thoughtfully. "She really needs some help, I just don't know what to do.."

Wanda reaches in her pocket and takes a business card out, sliding it across the table. "Give her this. I know a lot of people that could help her, but I also know you really care about her... I could take care of her. She would be brand new by the time we finished our Sessions."

Natasha takes the card wearily. "I don't know if I can just suggest this right now to her.. I'll think about it. Wait a little bit, and see if she gets better on her own." She smiles at Wanda gratefully.

"Of course.. maybe she'll get better," Wanda says, smiling at the thought of her spot in the shadows just outside your house.

****

Current Winter 2018

"Little mouse.." Her voice sounds from outside the window. You move quietly and quickly underneath a table that is in the corner covered by a tarp.

Wanda steps inside, the floor creaking underneath her weight, the door shutting with a snap. You listen to her footsteps as she walks around the small boathouse, rustling around in boxes. Your fingers twitch, absendmidetly tapping your leg 4 times.

Your shadow loomed over you.

It was quick, the pulling of the tarp, the exasperated scream as Wanda grabbed you from the back of your neck, pressing the blade to the front of your throat. She pulls you close to her, knowing you were going nowhere in her strong grip. The knife she held to your neck presses harder, drawing the smallest bit of blood as you attempt to scratch at her arms.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." Wanda sighs into your ear, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin just below. "Looks like I've caught you, pretty girl. What now, hm?" She chuckles darkly and continues to kiss your neck.

The ache between your legs grows as she presses her hips into you, feeling the strap beneath her jeans. "I told you if you ran, I would punish you.." Wanda removes one hand, keeping the knife to your throat. You don't have time to wonder before you hear the sound of her unbuckling her belt.

Cool metal is replaced with warm leather as she ties the belt around your neck, pushing you down roughly face first onto the table in front of you. "Wanda.." You whimper out. She tugs on the end of the belt, your whimpering cut short by lack of air. With the sharp blade, she cuts the shirt that clung to your body right down the middle, exposing your back.

"I told you, Y/N. I warned you what would happen when I found you." Her free hand slides down the shorts you wore. You blush, knowing she was about to find out how wet you were for her. Wanda frees the strap from her pants, sliding the tip along your ass. Your hips move back towards her as she teases you, causing Wanda to smirk.

She knew how badly you wanted her. Wanda would show you, over time, how you belonged to her and only her. And that she, belonged to you, only you.

She slides in easily, wasting no time in fucking herself into you. The table moves with every thrust, scratching the wooden dock below. Wanda holds in one strong grip, the belt, the other one holding your hip to meet hers. The knife had dropped to the ground. You both knew it wasn't needed.

"Fuck pretty girl, I'm going to fuck you every chance I get.." She moans loudly, pulling the belt. Your hands grip onto the leather as she pounds into you mercilessly, moaning at the thought of her having her way with you whenever she felt like it. Her powerful thrust sending shocks into your body. A hard smack across your ass makes you yelp. You feel a singing sensation. Another. More stinging. And another. Surely a bruise.

"Tell me, Y/N.." Wanda grunts in between thrusts. You knew what she wanted to hear. You had no problem telling her the truth.

"I need you!" You rasp out, her grip on the belt loosens.

"That's right, baby. I won't let you forget it," she pulls the belt to pull you up, your back flush against her. Wanda kisses your cheek, surprisingly softly. "Fuck you feel so good." Wanda groans, her breathing becoming ragged. She gropes your breasts as the cut shirt slips off of your body, pinching your nipples hard between her fingers.

The pleasure was overstimulating, your body still sore and tired from the night before. You feel your legs tremble under your weight, but Wanda easily holds you up.

"Are you gonna cum, little mouse? Hm?" Wanda groans against your skin, you nod quickly. "You better beg for it then.." She chuckles, making you whine.

"Wanda.." Your word barely comes out, unable to think and physically trapped by the belt. "Baby.." You try, feeling her body tense behind you.

"Please let me cum, please I'm begging you!"

"I need you to let me cum!"

"Baby please!"

"Cum for me, pretty girl.." She finally gives in.

Before you know it, you were coming, your orgasm crashing over your body in sync with the waves crashing below. Wanda continues to fuck you through your orgasm, letting herself enjoy the sight of you falling apart in her arms.

You hear her moan loudly, thrusts slowing as she releases with you. Wanda holds onto you tightly, the grip on her belt gone as you stand breathing heavily, your hearts beating together as you catch your breath. She gives you a minute before sliding out of you carefully and sitting you on the table.

You can barely sit up, freezing, and now even more sore than you already were. You watch with half lidded eyes as Wanda does her pants up, buckling her belt. She takes the knife and puts it behind her before taking off her hoodie. You could see a red shirt on her.

The hoodie is warm and smells like her as she slides it over your head, putting your arms in the holes. She pulls up the shorts and puts the hood over your head, tucking your hair behind your ears. You close your eyes as she lifts you up bridal style, carrying you out of the wooden structure.

You remember resting your head against her neck, thinking you had never felt softer skin before. You remember the warm sun shining through the trees as she carried you through the woods to her house. You remember the sound of hot water running. The feeling of her hands scrubbing your body clean. The sound of a match flicking. The smell of Wanda as warm clothes were put on your body.

Wanda slides in front of you in the bed, holding you tightly in her embrace. You grab onto her. She pulls the blanket over you both. 4 kisses on your head. The feeling of sleep taking over. The thought that nothing was going to be the same.

Your shadow whispering in your ear,

"Sweet dreams, little mouse.."

[softestqueeen]

hiii ! im a sucker for the early stages of crushing, so i was wondering if i could request a hotch fic where it's chilly out, and you forget to bring a jacket so hotch offers his suit coat to you and it's just so warm and it smells so good that you end up blurting out how much you like the way he smells and how much you appreciate him. aH idk i hope this made sense 😭 ty!! 🫶

a/n: omg anon, i'm literally OBSESSED with this!! i hope you like it <3 warnings: none, pure fluff, almost 1k words (damn)

Most people would say Nebraska is a lovely place to be. Breathtaking views, mostly nice folks and no 100-degree weather like Quantico, Virginia. But you had to disagree.

The team has been called in for a sensitive case regarding four missing children. So, the team immediately grabbed their go-bags and hopped on the jet.

Now having settled at the police station, you realised – you had forgotten to pack a jacket. The one essential for this kind of weather was currently hanging on a rack in your flat. After you had gotten blood on it at the last case, you cleaned it and hung it up so you could pack it again. Damnit, you thought to yourself, you thought you had packed it. Now you would have to try to stay somewhat warm and not catch hypothermia, while also staying sharp so you could get the children in time. Great.

You prayed that Hotch would group you with Reid, so you could stay at the station and work the geographical profile. But with your luck, of course you were chosen to check out the abduction sites – which were all not just in the middle of nowhere, but also in the open aka the cold – with no one less than the unit chief himself.

After hyping yourself up a bit, you were convinced you could do it. The car ride was nice, the heating making it enjoyable, but the moment you stepped into the cold you knew you couldn’t do it. As much as you tried to keep your teeth from clattering and your whole body from shivering, sometimes you could hear your teeth or see your hands shaking when you took them away from the warm comfort of your body.

You hoped Hotch wouldn’t notice it, but who where you fooling? He probably knew you forgot your jacket before you even noticed.

“Why aren’t you wearing a jacket, agent? It’s freezing. Did you forget it in the car?” to everybody else it sounded like everything else he said, stoic, emotionless but after working with him for quite some time you could make out the genuine worry in his voice.

Immediately trying to reassure him you said, “Oh, I think I forgot it at the station, but it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” The moment the lie left your mouth, you both could hear that that wasn’t the truth.

Of course, Aaron had already noticed your missing jacket in the jet while everybody was wrapping themselves in their thickest winter clothing, you obliviously kept reading your book.

He didn’t have to think much before shrugging off his coat and offering it to you, already holding it in the perfect way for you to just slip into it. Ever the gentleman.

“Oh, that’s really nice of you, but that’s not necessary, really,” you hoped that he would blame your reddening cheeks on the cold and not his boyfriend like behaviour. You don’t know why you were this flustered, you were sure he would do the same thing for Emily or even Reid.

“Please take it, you’ve been shivering since we arrived, and I don’t want to lose one of my best agents because of hypothermia. It really is no problem.”

He wiggled the coat a little bit and you were actually too cold to resist the promise of a nice and warm coat. Stepping forward you let your arms slip into the warm fabric before closing one of the buttons in the front.

It was easy to tell that it was way too big, but it was so warm also smelled just like Hotch’s cologne.

“Thank you, but you really didn’t have to, Hotch. I don’t want you to freeze now,” you told him in an almost scolding voice.

“I’ll live. Shall we get back to the scenes, see if there’s anything we’ve missed?” after humming in agreement the two of you fell into your usual rhythm again.

There was one problem – now that the cold wasn’t distracting you, it was his scent that lingered on the coat. And it was not just his cologne but also something that was just undeniably him. Masculine, raw and absolutely to die for.

You knew you couldn’t keep your feelings for the unit chief a secret for long. After confiding to the BAU-girls at a get together in the local bar, the rest seemed to catch on rather quickly too. The only person that was still completely oblivious was Hotchner himself. What would shock you, was that he also had feelings for you, but just genuinely didn’t think that you would like him as a friend or even a romantic partner. And you were also very oblivious to the looks he gave you and how often he smiled around you.

Suddenly his voice brought you back to reality “Is everything all right? Are you still cold? Do you want to go to the station?” Still lost in your own though you answer “Oh no, it’s all right. Your jacket smells nice by the way,” without really realising that you had just said that out loud you add more conscious now, “I think we did what we could here. We should head back to the others.”

Immediately after saying it you turn around and walk back to the car, leaving a baffled and slightly blushing Aaron Hotchner behind. In that moment he was very glad that you didn’t see him.

But now he knew, he definitely had to find a way to tell you how he feels, or else you are going to be the death of him.

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen

requests open!

taglist:@silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@BigBan

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XVII)

Chapter 17 : ‘Dear pine cone, let me hold you as you open’

Hi! Here is new chapter! Some cuteness and bounding between our MC and Andrew…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3483

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

It was early

It was early,   which has always been my hour     to begin looking       at the world

and of course,   even in the darkness,     to begin       listening to it,

especially   under the pines     where the owl lives       and sometimes calls out

as I walk by,   as he did     on this morning.       So many gifts!

What do they mean?   In the marshes     where the pink light        was just arriving

the mink   with his bristle tail     was stalking       the soft-eared mice,

and in the pines   the cones were heavy,     each one       ordained to open.

Sometimes I need   only to stand     wherever I am       to be blessed.

Little mink, let me watch you.   Little mice, run and run.     Dear pine cone, let me hold you       as you open.

Mary Oliver, Evidence, 2009

The rain made a reassuring rhythm as it fell on rooftops and windowpanes. It was kind of perfect for today’s ventures through bookstores with Andrew. You both had books to buy, had decided to go together. Of course, you had two titles in mind, and had already five books in your arms. As per usual.

By your side, Andrew was softly humming. A habit of his, you had discovered. One that came through when he was fully relaxed and happy, a sign of contentment. Today’s tune was fitting the moody weather and the warmth of bookshops. Autumn in New York…

“Andy… I need your professional expertise.”

He looked up at you, glasses perched on his nose, hair tied back but loose curls still fell around his face, a couple of them hiding his right eye and the freckle above it. He looked welcoming, warm, like a blanket and hot cocoa in winter, like the cracking of fire in the hearth of a safe home.

“Devotion, Mary Oliver?” you asked, holding up the book in your hand.

He grinned.

“A must-read, obviously. Breathtaking. I have a copy though, if you want to borrow it. It’s a good selection of her poetry.”

“Would you say I will want to go back to it constantly after I’ve read it?”

“I do go back to it often,” he conceded, and you heaved a sigh.

You placed it on the pile of books that was slowly but surely growing in your arms.

“You have a terrible influence on me,” you sighed, making him roll his eyes.

“I’m merely answering your question.”

“My bank account hates you and your reliable recommendations, just so you know.”

“I’ve finished The Song of Achilles, by the way,” Andrew mentioned it as if it was but a detail, but you noticed the smile he was trying to refrain.

“And?”

“It was… good.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, making him laugh.

“Alright, alright… I liked it a lot, actually.”

“How much did you cry?”

“What makes you think I cried at all?”

“Huh… because you have a beating heart, obviously?”

You saw the glimmer in his eyes, the tug of a cheeky smile on his lips that he tried to hide. You knew he was going to make a stupid joke, and that you would fall for it and laugh.

“How do you know I have one?”

“You’re alive,” you answered, playing along as you narrowed your eyes.

“So you think! I am actually un-dead. You foolish mortals should quake in fear before me.”

“How do you hide the smell of decomposition so well, then?” you asked back, and you noticed the way he was surprised by your answer, the absolute thrill he had because you were yielding into his dark humour.

“Perfume. Like the French.”

“You know it’s a myth.”

“Is it?”

“No idea.”

“I learned from the best, in the 1600s, when it grew out of fashion to stink.”

“So, what are you? A zombie?”

“No, I’m not! I’m not a brainwashed decomposing corps, how dare you?”

“Because you think you’re a vampire?”

“I would be a grand vampire!”

“Definitely a tall one, for sure.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, struggling so hard not to laugh you knew he had stopped breathing.

“Careful, mortal.”

“What are you gonna do? Sink your teeth in my jugular? Well, go ahead!”

You offered your neck to him, were surprised when his smile faltered and he fiercely blushed while staring at the skin you were now exposing.

“Besides, I’m sure I would get rid of you easily,” you teased again, replacing your scarf as it was before, and Andrew seemed to be breathing once more.

“You seem to doubt my vampiric powers to an annoying degree,” he went on again, following you as you walked further down the poetry section, before you’d stop again to look at another shelf of the same aisle.

“Hmm… maybe you are a vampire, indeed,” you pouted, acting like pondering a question. “I bet your white arse does get burned at the smallest ray of sunshine.”

Andrew couldn’t refrain his laughter anymore, it came out in a loud wave, the sound alone making you grin.

“Right, that’s right,” he nodded, doubling with laughter.

“Crispy bacon, I bet.”

His laughter came back renewed in a new wave. It lit up the entire shop, even the world beyond it.

“I cook in the sun,” he nodded, trying to calm down although his words still came out distorted by the lack of air in his lungs. “I become edible, at one point.”

You laughed too, bright and happy, the way you felt with Andy that rainy afternoon.

You didn’t have a care in the world in that moment. Basking in your shared laughter over some silly jokes, in a bookshop you loved, spending all the money you could have saved for later in life, but who cared about later? There was Andy laughing, the pile of books under his arm, the light reflected on his glasses, the pitter patter of the rain. Wasn’t that enough to fill up a world? An entire life?

You were so glad he was your friend now…

“You didn’t answer. How much did you cry?” you asked again, picking up a book, but placing it back on the bookshelf almost immediately, not liking how it looked.

“Quite a lot,” he finally admitted.

“Told you, you would. What did you think?”

He heaved a sigh, and you knew what was coming. You knew he was about to babble away for ten minutes and analyse everything in depth and question the changes made compared to the Iliad, and be too clever for his own good… He was an academic, after all.

He did exactly as you had predicted, you smiled the entire time, discussing some points with him, giving your opinion which he listened to attentively, bouncing back on your arguments to carry the conversation further. And you loved it. Every second of it. Being challenged that way about a book you had loved made your brain buzz in the best way.

You heaved a dreamy sigh, turning towards the shelves filled to the brim with books to buy.

“Oh, but can you imagine though? What it must feel like to have someone loving you that much?”

You ran your fingers across the spines of books before you, read a few titles; it was like touching dreams.

“Do you imagine what it must feel like to write about love that way? To love someone so much you write about them? To have someone writing about you?”

You smiled, a soft gesture as you let your hand fall back by your side.

“What else could we write about, though?”

You turned to Andrew, surprised by his sudden silence, and found him staring at you with an unreadable expression, you weren’t sure whether he was sad or simply deep in thoughts. You noted the red on his cheeks, though.

He seemed to hesitate, his lips parting, and then closing again.

“Like that could happen to us,” you laughed at your own silly thoughts. “Right… I’m done, I can’t allow myself to buy more books! Are you ready? Or do you require more snooping around?”

A smile was back on his lips, although Andrew still seemed a little shaken, you didn’t know why. He nodded anyway, looking down at the five books he was holding.

“I’m all good. Erm… I’m gonna order one, they didn’t have it. I’ll be quick.”

You nodded, let Andrew ask for the book he wanted, while you watched the rain fall outside, the lines it drew on the windowpane, the silhouettes hurrying back and forth in the street.

You didn’t hear Andrew joining you again, you jumped as he spoke.

“Ready?”

You had a new conversation going while you waited to pay for the books; and when it was time to walk out of the bookshop and part for the day, you didn’t want to. It was still early, you had no place to be on that Saturday afternoon. You wanted to finish this conversation with Andrew, you wanted to listen to his deep voice a little longer, let his calmness soothe you…

He looked into the street before you, holding the door open for you, but you remained motionless by his side. The rain was heavier now. It was so cold outside, you wondered if snowflakes weren’t hiding in the droplets.

“Want to get a coffee?” Andrew asked after a short silence.

You looked up at him, exchanged a glance. You read the same eagerness to stay in his eyes. You grinned.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

You were laughing at Andrew as you ran to the coffeeshop set right across the street when he slipped, almost falling, and cursing loudly at the clumsiness of his tall limbs. The rain was so cold over your face, you savoured the feeling the same way you enjoyed Andrew’s hand on your back when he told you to hurry inside.

“Wow… your standards for that date are… very high,” Andrew declared, pushing his rebel strands of hair behind his ear.

He cursed in a sigh, mumbling something about his hair tie not ‘doing anything’, and he pulled on it to free his hair. He shook his head to let his curls free; you tried hard not to stare, failed miserably…

“You asked for like… the dream date. The absolute dream. I’ve given you the absolute dream. The unreachable standard.”

“So… a movie in a field or clearing, a picknick, at night, and with lights hanging from trees.”

“Yes.”

“That’s insane.”

“You asked for the dream! That would be so fucking romantic!”

“It’s not even feasible, on a purely logistical point. How do you watch a movie in the woods? On a laptop?”

“No! I want it like… projected on a screen, like in cinema.”

“You want to go to an outdoor screening…”

“No! I want to be alone with the guy!”

“That’s impossible.”

“Projectors do exist, you know!”

“How do you create that set up where there is no one…?”

“I’ve never said I will ever get that! That it will happen! I’ve just said… that if anything could happen… I would like a date where we would be just together, in the middle of nowhere, watching a movie we both like and eating good food in a magical setting. Or it doesn’t have to be in the middle of nowhere, it can be… like… in a garden!”

“In this economy? Who owns a garden? Are you a millionaire?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Bantering with Andrew was such a nice sport…

“Why not just… go to a cinema?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Black, no sugar nor milk. Always the same order. Predictable guy…

“You can’t talk in a cinema. But you’re supposed to get to know the other person during a first date.”

“A restaurant then? You’ll go to the cinema for a second date.”

“Restaurants are okay,” you conceded. “And again, you asked for the dream. The one that is not achievable. That no man would ever do.”

“Because it’s not logistically possible.”

“Because no man would go to such length for someone else.”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the sudden pessimism in your voice. The mood shifted a little, from casually playful to something more serious, even a little sad.

You kind of hated your own thoughts, hated your weakness that made you unable to hold back the rest of your words, but they spilled out anyway.

“Especially not for me.”

Andrew’s expression changed from surprised to a deep frown. He opened his mouth to argue, but you interrupted him before he had as much as a chance to say a word.

“Never mind that. Anyway… let’s talk about something else. It’s your turn to answer a question!”

You narrowed your eyes, mischief back on your features, and if Andrew didn’t seem fully convinced by your sudden change of subject, he yielded anyway.

“Alright, I’m all ears.”

“I can ask you whatever I want?”

“Sure… I might not answer though.”

You looked for something that would make him blush for sure, just to tease…

“Weirdest place where you’ve had sex?”

Andrew broke into laughter, clearly uncomfortable now, and blushing like a tomato all the way up to the tips of his ears. He nervously ran his fingers through his hair. And yet, when he looked at you again, there was something wicked in his gaze, something beyond playful.

“That… is a very personal question to ask a lad.”

“You’re the one who started asking about my dating preferences.”

“Dating and having sex are quite… different. One is much more tamed.”

“Only if the date isn’t that good.”

He smiled, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek. You knew he liked that, the challenge of talking to someone witty.

“Fair enough,” he nodded, still staring at you, his voice lower and deeper than usual.

Your stomach clenched, you felt warmth spread across your entire frame under the combination of his stare and his suave ton.

He knew how to be a dangerous flirt, alright…

“I’m afraid I’ll be a little disappointing though. I haven’t had crazy experiences,” he admitted. “I guess… I don’t know… a car?”

“A classic!”

“It wasn’t very nice, to be fair…”

“Really?”

He winced, taking a deep breath.

“Very long limbs in a secluded space is all I’m gonna say about it.”

You chocked on your coffee, laughing so hard your belly was soon painful. And Andrew was laughing as well.

“Oh, no! The woods! That’s weirder!” he changed his answer, looking at the ceiling as he seemed to look through his memories. “Yeah, the woods, actually.”

“Risky business. I bet you’ve traumatised an entire family of badgers.”

“Several of them, definitely!” he chuckled, drinking and taking a bite of his cheesecake.

“Alright, next question!” you eagerly asked, making Andrew smile.

“Erm… like… erm… If you could go anywhere in the world now… Like… you’re just, transported like that,” he explained, snapping his fingers for good measure, “where would you like to go, and why?”

“Oh… It would have to be a place far away if I can teleport there and not suffer through twenty hours of flying… erm… Probably Australia or something like that. Or New-Zealand! Oh yeah… going full on hardcore Lord of the Rings fan in New-Zealand, that would be nice.”

“You’d make a very good elf,” he chuckled, but you shook your head.

“Oh, I want to be a hobbit! Quiet, eating a lot of good food, reading books, complaining about people all day long, like… with your busiest time of the day being going for a walk through the nearby fields. Yeah, I want that life.”

Andrew’s gaze softened.

“That sounds nice, indeed.”

You looked for a question to ask him while munching on your cupcake.

“Where would you like to live? Like… if you had an unlimited amount of money, and you could just… buy any house, anywhere in the world… where would you like to live?”

Andrew hummed as he was thinking of an answer, looking by the window at the rain that was still falling and showing no sign of stopping. In the coffeeshop, Mumford and Sons were playing, you hummed along the tune while you waited for Andrew’s answer.

He heaved a sigh.

“I’m… so boring,” he admitted with a smile. “But I… I would really like to live in Wicklow. Like… in the countryside, in a very small town, and to have… like… some land and a huge garden. Some old house where you can feel the weight of time and of people who have lived there before, but… I mean, modernised, cause… comfort, you know?” he joked, looking at you again. “But yeah, I… I would really like to live in a quiet house, a place with a soul. And I want a garden. I… I would really like to keep bees, one day.”

“Bees?”

“Yeah… they’re my favourite insects, even animals to be fair. They’re so… interesting and quite cute. And I just… Can you imagine? Taking care of your bees, and making your own honey? I would really like that. I would really like that a lot. Nothing extravagant, nothing unreachable just… a house with a garden, and a couple of hives. Besides, Elwood would need a garden. I’m lucky, my parents live in the countryside. I… I think I’d like to live quite close to them, actually. When I was a child, we settled in Wicklow, and it was so nice. I loved growing up there. We didn’t have a farm but we were outside any big city. And it was just so nice. I’d like that.”

You felt your heart grow warm at his words. Something so simple he wanted. Bees and a garden, some place for Elwood to run…

“You are aware it would cost you your liver to have a cubicle in the middle of a field, right?” you asked, trying to think about something else than the way your heart was making happy jumps now.

He rolled his eyes.

“You said that I didn’t have to think about the money. With unlimited budget.”

You nodded, checked the time.

It was starting to be late, your coffee was almost empty and you had finished your cake. Time to go home.

Instead, you looked up at Andrew, noticed how long his eyelashes were as he looked down into his cup of coffee. Your request passed your lips before you could think the words you were speaking.

“Ask me something else.”

A week later, Andrew was back in the bookshop, although, he was on his own this time. The book he had ordered had been delivered, he was coming to pick it up. He wouldn’t buy anything else, just what he needed. He had already bought too many books with you, the previous week, learning that you could not be trusted either in a bookshop. He wasn’t surprised. A fond smile spread on his lips at the thought.

He was about to go pay for the book when something caught his eye. A name he recognised and that made him immediately think of you.

Dante Aleghieri

He walked over to the table where a few books were displayed, including this nice copy of the Divine Comedy. He picked it up, turned the book into his hands, weighted it as he hesitated. He hadn’t read that book since his college days, several years ago. At the time, he wasn’t interested in that story, and he reckoned he was too young to understand it. He had studied later on the bits and pieces that Seamus Heaney himself had translated, but that was all.

You loved Inferno though. You had found something in it. He wanted to find out what it was. Besides, it made him think of you…

He heaved a sigh, walked to pay for both books, carried them home.

That evening, he picked up Dante instead of finishing the novel he was currently reading. He checked on Elwood, who was softly snoring in the corner of the living room, before heading to bed himself. He readjusted his glasses on his nose before slipping under the covers, turning off his phone so he wouldn’t be interrupted or distracted, and he started reading.

He was drawn into the story now, more so than he remembered being the first time around. Of course, it was a book written over seven hundred years ago, with such Christian outdated thoughts that some pieces were lost to us. And yet, there was something haunting in its imagery, something touching in the pain inflicted. He made a mental note to research more about the political context that was debated in the book, he didn’t remember the story being so heavily driven by Dante’s political views, but it was. It was mostly political, mostly Christian too. He kept on reading through Canto I and II, until he had to stop, his breathing caught in his throat, his eyes clouded with tears as he reached Canto III.

Through me you enter into the city of woes,

Through me you enter into eternal pain,

Through me you enter the population of loss.

The words carved above the entrance of hell made him put down the book, stare up at the ceiling. It was silly, that wasn’t what the words meant in the context of the book, and yet… there was so much loss in his life at the moment…

 Through me you enter the population of loss.

The words played through his head again and again. What a beautiful way to describe grief…

He let out a breathy chuckle, blinking his tears away and smiling instead.

He should never doubt you. You seemed to always be right…

[captainblou]

Drive me to the Moon - A Good Omens AU, now complete.

To Build a Home

Summary:

After competing in a rally race for charity and claiming victory with now life partner Toni Crowley, Aziraphale, also known as The Angel, continues to surprise us with his dance exhibition Leaving the Garden, blending together classical and modern dancing. The show offers a vast variety of costumes and references in a breathtaking staging, and Aziraphale’s own closing performance steals the show entirely, leaving the audience dazzled.  Aziraphale, born Ezra Fell, offers a beautiful, sincere and harrowing ode to resilience through two hours of code breaking dancing.  Leaving the Garden is without doubt a must see on the West End stage this winter.  West End Review ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Hello my dear readers!!!

This chapter is the last one for this fic (if you're good, I might post some saucy NSFW extra scenes that I wrote, but it'll be in a few weeks)

And it's very very special.

Why? Because half of it (the entire Crowley POV at the beginning) was written by my good friend @searchingforakeythatdoesntexistand and translated by yours truly!! So, yeah. Not only does she make stunning illustrations, she's also a very skilled writer (go check her AO3, it's worth it!!!)

This chapter also comes with carefully selected musics so don't hesitate to click the footnotes (I broke my own head making them so...)

I want to thank one last time @fearandhatred, @mamamissy and @crowleys-bentley-and-plants for betaing this and cheering me up during writing!

Happy reading!

Tag list: @itsscottiesstark @moralsofanalleycatsposts @gallup24 @beerok23 @handyowlet @eybefioro @naturallyteal @sparklyshinymagpie @hellsgardener01 @goodwomanbadlady @daisygrayce @tigerowltattoos @addledmongoose @gaiaseyes451 @goodomensafterdark

[nowaysguidetothebestkeptsecrets]

Wonders of Norway: A Traveller's Guide to the Best Kept Secrets

By John Kirby, G. Soliven From BSIT-1A

Imagine a land of stunning fjords, majestic mountains, and vibrant cities under the shimmering Northern Lights. Norway is not just a destination; it's my dream vacation, a place I long to explore one day. Though I’m currently studying and can’t visit just yet, this guide will unveil the hidden gems of this Scandinavian paradise for when I can finally embark on my journey. Whether you're an outdoor enthusiast, a history buff, or simply seeking tranquillity in nature, Norway has something special for everyone. Let’s embark on this journey to discover the wonders of Norway!

Norway’s Outdoor Adventure

Why Norway Is Perfect for Adventure Travelers

Norway is often referred to as a dream destination for adventure travellers. The varied landscapes provide a rich diversity of outdoor activities, including hiking, biking, skiing, kayaking, and rock climbing. There’s no shortage of thrilling experiences to be had in Norway's great outdoors!

When I think of my future travels, I can already envision myself immersed in nature, taking in all that Norway has to offer:

Mountain Climbing

With over 600 mountains, Norway is a paradise for climbers. Galdhøpiggen, the highest peak at 8,100 feet, promises breathtaking views for those ready to take on the challenge.

Rafting

For adrenaline seekers, white-water rafting on Norway’s majestic rivers is a must. From beginner-friendly experiences to thrilling rapids, there’s an adventure for everyone.

Dog Sledding

In the winter, dog sledding is an unforgettable experience. Imagine gliding through snow-covered landscapes in Tromsø, led by a team of e nergetic huskies!

Reference Top Destinations/Activities

Activities and Nature Attractions

Norway is filled with stunning natural beauty and activities for every season. Here are some highlights I dream of experiencing:

Must-See Nature Attractions

Fjords: Exploring the iconic fjords like Geirangerfjord and Nærøyfjord, both UNESCO World Heritage Sites, is at the top of my list.

Northern Lights: Witnessing the magical Aurora Borealis in places like Tromsø during winter is a dream come true.

Midnight Sun: I can already imagine the surreal experience of the sun never setting during summer in northern Norway.

Waterfalls: Visiting breath-taking waterfalls like Vettisfossen, the tallest in Norway, would be a highlight of my trip.

Family-Friendly Activities

Norway also offers many activities suitable for families, from outdoor adventures to cultural experiences, making it a wonderful place to visit for everyone.

Reference

Cultural Insights

Family Dynamics

Norwegian families tend to be small, valuing independence and equality. Gender roles are balanced, with shared responsibilities in both work and home life, creating a sense of community.

Official Language and Communication

Norwegian is the official language, but most Norwegians speak English, making it easy for travellers like me to communicate and connect with locals. I appreciate the straightforward and warm-hearted nature of Norwegian interactions.

The Norwegian Diet

Traditional Norwegian cuisine includes fish, meat, and hearty bread. While I look forward to trying local delicacies, I know international influences have shaped the modern dining scene, making it diverse and exciting.

Reference Travel Tips

17 Things You Need to Know Before Visiting Norway

Norway is a Scandinavian Country: It consists of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.

Polar Bears Do Not Walk in the Streets: They’re found in Svalbard, not mainland Norway.

Currency: The Norwegian Krone (NOK) is the currency; most transactions can be done with cards.

Safety: Norway is one of the safest countries to visit, with low crime rates.

Seasons: Norway experiences distinct seasons; plan your visit accordingly.

Wild Camping: Enjoy the freedom of wild camping in nature.

National Parks: Access to national parks is generally free.

Best Salmon: Don’t miss trying Norway’s renowned salmon dishes.

Eating Out: Dining can be expensive; consider grocery shopping for budget-friendly meals.

Northern Lights: Best viewed in northern Norway between October and April.

Travel Distances: Norway is large, so plan your travel time accordingly.

Wildlife: Generally safe; no dangerous animals on mainland Norway.

Norwegian Taco Culture: Tacos are a beloved Friday night tradition!

Diversity of Regions: Each region offers unique landscapes and experiences.

Midnight Sun: Experience 24 hours of daylight in summer.

Community Engagement: Young people often engage in sports and volunteer work.

Language: Understanding basic Norwegian phrases can enhance your experience.

Reference Norway, with its breathtaking landscapes, rich culture, and welcoming atmosphere, is truly my dream vacation destination. From stunning fjords to vibrant cities, I know there’s something for every traveler. I eagerly look forward to exploring this incredible country someday.

I encourage you to consider visiting this amazing destination and share your thoughts or experiences in the comments below. Have you traveled to Norway? What was your favorite part?

If you enjoyed this guide and want to explore more about travel, culture, and adventures, don’t forget to follow us on social media for the latest updates, tips, and insights, and check out our other posts for more inspiration. Here’s to dreaming of Norway until we can experience it firsthand!

[sirenmoth]

Winter Nights

Kyle 'Gaz' Garricks x GN!Reader

synopsis: as the snow falls, gaz decides a walk outside is great idea

domestic fluff, fluff, gaz being cute, icky cute couple stuff, romantic dates, snow fight, snow fights

Sitting on the sofa, mindlessly reading a book you bought a few weeks back from a small bookshop you found while mindlessly wondering around the airport terminal as you waited to pick Kyle up. You were already a chapter or two in, but so far heavily invested in the story that you found it difficult to put the novel down. Kyle stood in the open end kitchen that linked directly to the living room, watching you as you read, curled up into a ball with a blanket over your legs, eyes scanning over the words feverishly. Staring at you with hearts in his eyes, taking in the scene while the kettle continued to boil.

You both bought this place a year or so ago when you agreed to take a step further into the relationship, it was an open floor plan, kitchen and living room linking directly into each other, the single bedroom at the far end had a balcony which Kyle loved to put his plants on during the summer to give them fresh sunlight, you were in charge of them when he was away, he called them his ‘children’ and his ‘pride and joy’, much to your dismay since it was you who made sure they got enough sunlight and water. One of the things that sold you on the flat was the windows, they gave a wonderful view of the city below and an even more breathtaking view of the night sky above, even if it was difficult to see the stars thanks to the strenuous lights that polluted the sky above, it was nice to image them glistening down from above, mapping them out in your mind.

The click of the kettle finished boiling brought you both back to reality, turning your head up to look at the man reaching for two mugs, softly smiling at each other as you went back to your individual activities, the quiet clicking of the mugs and teaspoons as Kyle readied your respective hot drinks and bringing them over to the living room, placing them down on the table in front on the sofa. You moved the blanket as an invention for him, which Kyle happily accepted, making a large scene on trying to get comfortable, “Kyle, stop it! You're going to make me lose my page!” you laughed while jokingly making fun of his antics, giggling as he huffed every time he wasn't comfortable.

“Give me a minute, love” Kyle jested back, overexaggerating on rearranging the fluffy throw blanket draped over you both while finding a good position for you both to lay in, “We need to preserve heat, and the best way to do that is by cuddling really close” he responds with a smirk “Can’t have my darling getting cold now” Kyle added, wrapping his arms around your waist, and he snuggled into your side, his back against the back cushions of the sofa, “What’cha reading anyway?” You looked down at him briefly, watching his eyes quickly scan the page you’re on, trying to grasp the plot. Mindlessly you answer “Some book I picked up on the way at the airport while I waited to collect you,” before you can get another word out, Kyle shoots up from his spot, eyes fixated out the window with childish glee, confused you turn your gaze in the same direction and being greeted by the white flurry of snow, dancing around in the wind. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone move that fast, observing as Kyle ran straight for the entrance to the flat, grabbing both your hats, coats, gloves and everything else you might need to go outside right now, walking back he gestures for you to sit up properly while he kneels down, fixing on your shoes, tying your laces and then carefully pulling you up and off the sofa to fix on your coat, and pulling you towards the door, hot drinks and a warm night in already completely forgotten. 

"Excited, are we?" You joke

"I've been in the desert's blistering heat for months now, let me have this."

The streets were relatively deserted at this time of the day, a few people going about their business, walking under the pale yellow lights of the street lights. Both of you, hand in hand as you strolled in your self-made winter wonderland, basking in each other’s warmth and company.  The wind whipped around you, harshly kissing your skin, causing you to shiver from the assault. Kyle being the well-trained soldier he is, picked up on this, stopping you both under a streetlamp as he undid his scarf “you really need to keep warm” he muttered, wrapping the piece of fabric around your neck, bringing a section up and over your mouth and nose “there, nice and warm” Kyle smiled, looking at you before his smiled dropped, shaking his head and removing his gloves. “Seriously, how do you survive without me?” he joked, taking one of your hands and carefully slipping it into his glove before repeating the process with the other one. Smiling once again, Kyle took your hand and continued walking, commenting on how pretty the snow looked in the lights. 

Trying to return at least one of the items of clothing, but he always refused, claiming he was trained to withstand the cold and that he'll be fine. Keeping you warm was his priority.

An hour or so into your spontaneous date walk, you stopped pretending to be amazed at the scenery, looking out at the snow covered trees, but in reality it was a cover to prank your ever-so-loving boyfriend. Making sure he was distracted, you crouched down slowly as to not make any sudden movements, scooped up a handful of snow and formed it into a ball before tucking your hand with the weapon behind your back, you made your way back over to Kyle, nuzzling into his side, looking at him with bright doe eyes as a way to get his guard down, then quickly shoving the handful of snow down his coat before taking a few cautious steps back as you watched him react to your little prank.

 “Fuck!” he cursed as the cold slush hit his skin, spreading all over his back, igniting his nerves in a cold chill across this whole body. Kyle shakes his coat trying to get the snow out, glaring daggers at you as you laugh at your own joke. Smiling playfully, he kneels down to gather a handful of fresh, fallen snow in his hands, “Two can play at this game.” He says, throwing the clump of white frost at you.

It hits your arm as you quickly dodge the attack, you smile back and pick up your own snow missile to throw back, Kyle dodges your throw with ease, laughing at your so called 'weak attempt', only to be silenced as you throw another one, hitting him square in the face. For what feels like hours, you both dodge and weave around each other in both successful and failed attempts to hit the other with the cold flakes that are falling from the sky, picking up clumps of white slush and shaping them into crude ball-like shapes until your hands are numb and cold to the touch, cheeks hurting from smiles as laughter, faces red from the elements. The cold eventually started to seep in, settling against your bones, deciding it was best to head back before either of you got sick, or slipped and fell, like Kyle almost did, even if he claimed that never happened.

Once back in the warmth, Kyle shedded off his jacket, shoes and hat before helping you with yours. He moved quickly, disposing of the long forgotten, now cold, cups as you found some comfy clothes in the closet that'll hopefully help you two of you warm up quicker. Handing Kyle his of clothes after you’ve changed, sending him to change as well as you fixed two new cups of freshly hot tea, walking to the couch and placing the cups down carefully and retaking your position under the blanket, book in hand. Kyle joining you after a few and retaking his place against your side, arms wrapped around your waist and head resting in the crook of your neck, listening to you read aloud, his eyes trained on the snowfall outside, a faint smile on his face as he closes his eyes, your voice and the faint sound of wind lulling him to sleep. 

[doormatty3]

Blizzards and Beef Stew - Chapter 1 (Patrick Wilson x FOC)

Masterlist Ao3

Blizzards and Beef Stew Masterlink

Summary

[Patrick Wilson x Original Female Character] [Patrick Wilson x Original Character] Éléanor had always adored winter: its snow, its crisp air. But what she treasured most was retreating to her cosy cabin in the Swedish mountains. There, she could bake, sketch, and enjoy the solitude, far from the noise of the world. At least, that’s how it used to be—until a new neighbour arrived. Patrick Wilson was tall, charming, and with a smile that seemed to melt the coldest days. As they struck up a friendship, Éléanor found herself drawn to him, even though he remained oddly secretive about his last name and evasive about his work. But when a fierce snowstorm trapped them both, it became clear that Patrick might just be the warmth she needed in more ways than one. OR: Patrick uses his body to warm up Éléanor in the snowy mountains.

Wordcount: 3412

A/N: If you wanna be tagged for the next chapter - just let me know

Éléanor took a deep breath as she stepped out of her car, the crisp mountain air filling her lungs. Sweden was stunning at this time of year, with the snow-draped scenery stretching out before her like an untouched, pristine canvas. The snow shimmered under the midday sun, resembling a scattering of tiny jewels across the ground. Only delicate, winding animal tracks disrupted the thick, white layer that enveloped everything.

Tall, majestic pines loomed around her, their branches laden with snow, bending gently beneath its weight. Occasionally, a gust of wind would send a flurry of flakes tumbling from the branches. For a brief moment, Éléanor closed her eyes, enjoying the silence that enveloped her.

She focused on the sharp, icy air that bit at her cheeks and the gentle sound of snowflakes drifting down from the sky. A few flakes tangled in her hair, softly brushing her face before melting away. Éléanor smiled, savouring the tranquillity and the unmistakable chill of winter that she had missed so much.

With another deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked towards her little cabin, nestled among the towering pines. The wooden retreat, with its dark timber walls, stood in stark contrast to the snowy landscape. Frosted windows reflected the sun's soft glow, casting a warm, golden light across the snow-covered ground. Over the years, this place has become her sanctuary, where she returns every winter. No bustling café to manage, no customers to serve—just the stillness of nature and the quiet flow of her creativity.

She knew it would be bitterly cold inside, but her trusty fireplace would soon take care of that. Pulling her coat tighter around herself, Éléanor grabbed her bags from the back seat and took in the familiar sight of her cosy cabin.

The snow crunched under her boots as she trudged through the ankle-deep powder towards the front door, mentally noting that she would have to clear the path later.

With a push, she opened the door and sighed in relief.  Inside, the scent of aged pine wood welcomed her, and the warmth of the cabin sharply contrasted with the chill outside.

The place was small and rustic but perfect for her. A fireplace sat in the centre of the main room, with a plush armchair and a soft couch in front of it.  To the right was a small kitchen that always smelled faintly of fresh bread. In the far corner, large windows revealed a breathtaking view of the snow-covered mountains.

She set her luggage down by the door and took a moment to take it all in. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

She was home.

After shrugging off her coat and scarf, she unzipped her suitcase and carefully pulled out two of her most precious items. The first was her sketchbook, its well-worn cover filled with memories of past trips, sketches of café patrons and fleeting scenes from her travels. She held it fondly, flipping through a few pages to find her latest watercolour drawing—an old cathedral from back home in France, bathed in the golden hues of a setting sun. Smiling at the piece, she set the sketchbook gently on the small table by the window, a spot she knew she would spend countless hours by over the coming days.

Next, she reached into the suitcase and brought out a small, carefully wrapped container. Unwrapping it, she revealed her beloved sourdough starter, Jacques, alive and well, despite the journey.

“You made it, mon cher,” she whispered affectionately, holding the container close as if greeting an old friend. 

Jacques had been with her for years, travelling wherever she went, and every loaf of bread she baked carried a bit of home within it—he was an essential part of her café back home. She placed him on the kitchen counter and popped the lid off to let him breathe.

With Jacques settled and her sketchbook ready, Éléanor took the rest of her time to unpack, folding her clothes neatly into the cabin’s wooden dresser and laying out her art supplies.

Several days passed in peaceful solitude, just as Éléanor had wished.

Her mornings were spent sketching by the large window that overlooked the snowy forest; the light from the rising sun cast a golden glow over the snowy land, and she captured the way the rays shifted through the trees in delicate watercolour strokes. Afternoons were reserved for baking, as the enticing aroma of sourdough wafted through the cabin while she tried out various recipes, each loaf turning out more delicious than the last. In the evenings, she curled up by the fire with a good book, savouring the quiet and the crackle of the burning wood.

One evening, as she was tidying up after a long day of painting, her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. Wiping her hands on a towel, she picked it up and smiled as her best friend's name appeared on the screen.

“Bonsoir, ma chérie!” Virginie’s voice was bright and lively, a stark contrast to the quiet surrounding Éléanor. The sound of music and laughter echoed in the background. “Guess where I am!”

Éléanor chuckled, already knowing the answer. “In Spain, of course. How wild is it this time?”

“Wild!” Virginie exclaimed, nearly shouting over the noise. “I’m at this incredible party—everyone’s dancing and I’m halfway through my second bottle of wine! You should see it, Éléanor. How are you surviving up there in the mountains, all by yourself?”

Éléanor laughed, picturing her best friend surrounded by a whirlwind of music, people, and bright lights. “You know I prefer the quiet. Besides, the snow is beautiful, and I’ve got my art to keep me busy.”

“Sure, sure, your art,” Virginie teased. “Let me guess, you’re sitting there with your sketchbook, sipping tea like some brooding artist.”

“Not just that,” Éléanor said, her voice light. “I’ve been baking too. Jacques has been very productive.”

There was a long pause, and then Virginie’s voice came back, incredulous. “Oh my God. Don’t tell me you actually brought the damn sourdough starter with you!” Éléanor could practically hear the eye-roll over the phone. “You seriously dragged Jacques all the way to Sweden?”

Éléanor grinned. “Of course I did. I couldn’t leave him behind; he’d die.”

“Éléanor,” Virginie groaned, laughter bubbling in her voice. “You’re ridiculous. You brought a jar of bacteria to your winter getaway. No wonder you’re still single—you’re in a committed relationship with bread dough! You really need to get laid, ma belle.”

Éléanor burst out laughing. “Hey, Jacques and I are very happy together, thank you very much.”

“I’m serious! You’re too young to be cooped up in the mountains with Jacques. What you need is to be at this party with me, drinking wine and meeting someone who isn’t yeast-based.”

Éléanor shook her head, still smiling. “Maybe next year, Virginie. But you know I love it up here. The peace, the quiet—no distractions. Just me, my art, and my bread.”

“Ugh, you’re hopeless,” Virginie said dramatically. “But fine, if you want to keep having your mountain romance with Jacques, that’s on you. Just remember that I’m living my best life here! Next year, though, you’re coming with me. No more hiding away in the woods.”

“We’ll see,” Éléanor replied, though they both knew the answer. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Hm, I’ll take that as a maybe!” Virginie’s voice softened a little. “Don’t be too lonely, alright? I’ll be back in France soon, and we’ll catch up. Love you, ma belle.”

“Love you too, Virginie. Have fun!” Éléanor hung up, a fond smile lingering on her lips. Virginie’s energy was infectious, and their friendship balanced each other perfectly. While Virginie craved the buzz of parties and crowds, Éléanor preferred the stillness of moments like this—just her and the quiet comfort of the mountains.

She moved through her nighttime routine with the ease of familiarity. Brushing her teeth, washing her face, changing into warm pyjamas, and braiding her wild hair to keep it in check. She took one last look at her sketchbook, then at Jacques, making sure everything was in its place before heading to bed. The cabin was quiet; the silence was only broken by the distant howling of the wind outside.

As she drifted off to sleep, the peacefulness of the mountains surrounded her, a comforting embrace that lulled her into dreams of soft snow and watercolour landscapes.

In the dead of night, Éléanor stirred, hearing the faint crunch of tyres on the snow and the sound of a car engine rumbling outside. She sat up in bed, her heart pounding in the sudden silence that followed. It was rare to hear anything but the wind and the occasional call of an owl this far up in the mountains. Curious and slightly wary, she slipped out of bed and made her way to the window.

Pulling back the curtain just a fraction, she peered out into the dark night and noticed the soft glow of headlights cutting through the darkness, illuminating the cabin beside hers.

A man stepped out of the car, tall and broad-shouldered, his face hidden beneath the shadows of the night.  He unloaded bags from the trunk with practised ease. Éléanor’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t expected company up here. Most people avoided the mountains in the depths of winter unless they had a specific reason to be there.

Éléanor watched him for a moment, her curiosity piqued. The neighbouring cabin was often vacant during the winter, so it was unusual to see anyone here, especially at this hour. He moved quickly and efficiently without much noise. Maybe he was just another quiet visitor, someone like her, seeking solitude.

With a quiet huff, she pulled back from the window and returned to bed. She wasn’t here to meet strangers. Seclusion was what she’d come for, and that’s what she intended to keep—no matter who had arrived next door.

Still, as she drifted back to sleep, a part of her wondered who he was and why he was here in the same remote corner of the world.

_____

The next morning, she woke to a bright, crisp day. The sunlight streamed through the large cabin windows, illuminating the fresh snowfall that blanketed the landscape outside. The snow glittered under the early light, creating a world that looked almost magical, untouched, and pure.

Still wrapped in the warmth of her bed, Éléanor let out a soft sigh, listening to the silence that filled the cabin. It was the kind of quiet she craved—no sounds of cars or people, just the occasional soft creak of the old wood settling and the gentle crackle of embers from the fireplace. She loved these mornings. The snow had a way of making everything feel slower and more peaceful.

Stretching lazily, she threw on a thick sweater and made her way to the kitchen, her bare feet padding against the cool wooden floors. The familiar sight of her sketchbook left open from the previous night’s work, caught her eye, and she smiled as she passed it. The half-finished watercolour of the mountains stood stark against the white paper, still waiting for the finishing details.

She filled the kettle with water and began preparing her usual morning tea, humming softly to herself. The cabin smelled faintly of pine and the lingering scent of sourdough bread from the previous day.

Just as the kettle started to whistle, a knock at the door interrupted the stillness. Éléanor frowned, glancing at the door in surprise. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Cautiously, she walked over to the front door and opened it, the rush of cold air making her tighten her sweater around herself. 

Standing on her porch was the man she had seen arriving last night—the one who had moved into the neighbouring cabin. He was bundled up against the cold, his thick jacket dusted with snow as his broad-shouldered frame filled the doorway. 

She noticed his striking face: a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight nose that gave him an effortlessly handsome look. Beneath the knitted hat that covered his ears, wisps of light brown hair peeked out, and a trace of stubble ran along his jawline, growing denser along his upper lip.

His breath puffed in small clouds as he smiled at her, his blue eyes catching the light of the morning sun. 

Éléanor blinked, momentarily distracted by how impossibly good-looking he was. He looked like someone who should have been on a magazine cover rather than standing on her snow-covered porch.

“Hey,” he greeted her with a smile that was equal parts charming and boyish. “I’m Patrick. I’m staying next door.”

His voice was smooth, deep, and easy, with a friendly tone that instantly made her feel at ease. Despite the cold air biting at her cheeks, Éléanor couldn’t help but feel warmth spreading through her.

She hadn’t expected him to introduce himself, let alone in person. His presence felt oddly natural, though, as if he belonged in this quiet landscape. Still, it took her a moment to respond.

“Hi,” she finally said, offering a small smile in return. “I’m Éléanor. Nice to meet you.”

Patrick’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was just shovelling the snow off my driveway,” he explained, nodding toward his cabin. “Figured I’d offer to do yours, too, since I’m already out here.”

Éléanor blinked, caught off guard by his offer. She wasn’t used to anyone offering to help in these parts—usually, everyone who came to the mountains was looking for the same solitude she was. But there was something in his demeanour that felt genuine and unassuming.

“Oh,” she hesitated, glancing at her snow-covered driveway. “That’s very kind of you, but you really don’t have to.”

Patrick interrupted with a light shrug. “It’s no trouble. It’s not like I have much else going on today.”

His easygoing nature and the relaxed way he stood there, his breath puffing in the cold air, made it hard for Éléanor to refuse. She smiled despite herself, her cheeks flushing—not just from the cold.

“Well, if you’re sure… then thank you,” she said softly.

He gave her a friendly nod and turned to walk back down her porch steps, heading towards his own cabin to grab a shovel. His movements were smooth and purposeful, and something about how he carried himself made it clear he was used to being in control. He moved with confidence but not arrogance—just a natural, effortless ease.

As he began shovelling, Éléanor couldn’t help but admire him from the warmth of her cabin. 

His strong arms worked steadily as he cleared the snow, his shoulders flexing under his jacket with each movement. She was mesmerised by the way the light played off his sharp features, the concentration on his face as he worked, and the quiet determination in his posture.

Unable to resist, she reached for her sketchbook. She pulled it towards her and settled by the window, the natural light casting soft shadows across the page.

Her fingers quickly flew across the page as she began sketching his form — his strong, defined lines against the snow, the contrast of his dark jacket against the bright white. She sketched him from different angles, flipping through the pages and trying to capture every detail: the way he held the shovel, the curve of his back, and even the way the sunlight glinted off the snow in front of him.

Soon enough, she added watercolours, bringing the scene to life with soft washes of blues and greys to reflect the snowy landscape and the warm hues of his complexion.

Before long, Patrick had finished, and the driveway was now clear of snow. Éléanor watched as he wiped the back of his hand across his brow, exhaling a puff of visible breath. She watched as he took a step back, admiring his work for a brief moment before glancing back toward her cabin.

Éléanor snapped her sketchbook shut, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. She had just spent the last hour drawing him without his knowledge, and she wasn’t sure how he would react if he knew. 

Deciding to thank him properly, Éléanor brewed a fresh pot of tea and poured two steaming mugs. She bundled herself up and stepped out onto the porch, her boots crunching on the freshly cleared snow.

“Patrick!” she called out, holding up one of the mugs. “I made you some tea. Thought you might want something warm after all that work.”

Patrick glanced up, a smile tugging at his lips. He wiped his hands on his jacket and made his way towards her. As he took the mug from her, their fingers brushed for a moment, and Éléanor felt a tiny, unexpected spark shoot through her. The casual intimacy of the touch caught her off guard, and she couldn’t help but steal a glance at his hands.

His hands, though warm from holding the mug, were still slightly reddened from the cold. They were large and strong, with well-defined knuckles and carefully groomed nails. Éléanor quickly looked away, hoping he had not noticed her lingering gaze.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip of the tea. “Perfect timing.”

They sat down on the porch steps together, the steam from their mugs swirling into the cold air. The world around them was still and silent. The only sounds were the distant wind and the crunch of snow underfoot as the snow-capped mountains glistened under the sun.

“So,” Patrick started after a few sips, “what brings you up here? You live around here, or are you just visiting?”

Éléanor shook her head. “No, I’m from France originally. I run a café back home with my best friend, but I come here every winter to take a break…It’s kind of my personal retreat.”

Patrick raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely impressed. “France, huh? I would’ve guessed Europe from your accent, but I didn’t know where exactly.”

She chuckled softly, her cheeks warming. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty noticeable.”

“Trust me, it’s not a bad thing,” he replied, his eyes meeting hers briefly, and the sincerity in his voice made her blush a little more. 

The sunlight caught his eyes as he spoke, making them an even brighter blue—like the sky on a perfect day, clear and inviting. Éléanor found herself momentarily lost in them, wondering how a man could have eyes like that, so sharp yet kind. 

“What about you?” she asked, turning the conversation back to him. “What brings you to these mountains?”

Patrick shrugged, taking another sip of tea. “Same as you, I guess. Needed to get away, clear my head. It’s hard to find this kind of quiet anywhere else.”

Éléanor found herself nodding along, appreciating the easy flow of conversation. Despite his rugged, handsome appearance, Patrick didn’t seem to have the air of someone looking to impress or be impressed. He was easygoing and comfortable in his own skin, and it put her at ease.

“So, what do you do when you’re not shovelling strangers’ driveways?” she asked, giving him a teasing smile.

Patrick chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “I’m in… entertainment, I guess you could say,” he said vaguely, his tone nonchalant.

Éléanor didn’t press further. She didn’t have much interest in prying into someone’s life, especially when she had come here for peace and solitude. For now, Patrick was simply a kind man who had helped her out—and, as it turned out, was excellent company.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, sipping their tea and gazing out at the snowy landscape. Patrick’s broad shoulders were relaxed as he leaned back slightly, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the fabric of his jeans hugging the strong lines of his thighs.

As their conversation drifted back to light topics—the weather, the beauty of the mountains—Éléanor couldn’t help but wonder about the man sitting next to her. There was something familiar about him, something that tugged at the edges of her memory, but she couldn’t quite place it.

But she let the thought slip away. For now, it didn’t matter. 

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, warming the porch ever so slightly, Éléanor realised just how much she was enjoying Patrick’s company.

“You know,” Éléanor said thoughtfully as she glanced over at Patrick, “I’m not used to having company up here. But… this is nice.”

Patrick looked at her, his expression softening. “Yeah. It is.”

[oldfarmhouse]

❄️ breathtaking winter scenes

[babybemydownfall]

The Storm and the Sunrise

Summary: Feyre and Rhys take a holiday, Rhys makes a storm and then they make a baby. Set post-ACOWAR, wandering happily off into AU. NSFW.

Chapter 1/3 (so far). (Ch 2 - Ch 3)

Notes: A few prerequisites for this story: - Set somewhere after book 3, when everyone is happy and at peace. Hurrah. - No silly thing about wings and pelvises - they will both be fine. - More to follow, including Feminist!Feyre and Rhys - because let's face it, she's not going to lie down for ten months and he's the original feminist of Prythian.

Please enjoy! Would love to hear your thoughts and any scenes you'd like to see in future.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

II

It was still dark outside in Velaris when Feyre woke up one morning and she knew.

It was her breasts - they felt so tight, like they'd grown four sizes overnight. In surprise, she reached up to hold them and yelped at how tender they were. Rhys stirred next to her but didn't wake. She slipped out of bed and then out of their bedroom, pulling on her dressing gown before silently closing the door behind her. The tall clock which stood proudly at the end of the landing told her it was only four thirty in the morning. The house was still; not even the servants had arrived for work yet. And outside the tall windows the city slumbered too, as breathtaking as ever beneath a thin layer of late winter snow. But Feyre was wide awake. 

And pregnant. 

Bathed in moonlight and starlight as she stood alone, hands pressed into her lower abdomen, she breathed deeply and felt tears sting her eyes.  

At last. 

It had taken almost two years; three of those gods-awful cycles which left her in agonising pain for days at a time. The last one was just over two months ago, and she and Rhys knew from all their reading about Fae biology that she was most fertile in the two weeks afterwards. And so they got to work.

Not that it was work. Quite the opposite. 

In fact, they’d taken formal leave from their Court and disappeared, putting Amren in charge and only to be contacted in dire emergency. But now that peace had fallen upon Prythian, there were no emergencies. No distractions from each other, nor the job at hand. And it was blissful. Fourteen days of Rhys all to herself - the happiest either of them had ever been.  

And the sorest.

It was impossible to count how many times they made love. Firstly when they stayed in the cabin and then, in the second week, in the most beautiful rooms in the Summer, Sun and Dawn Courts. (Shielded, of course. Double shielded, by them both, because they were loud and they knew it.) 

They were guests of Tarquin, Helion and Thesan, but not there on official business. So there were no formal banquets or tedious meetings with dignitaries; just private lunches with their friends, a suite in their palaces and freedom to roam across their lands, exploring as visitors. There was so much of Prythian that Feyre had never seen; so much in fact that Rhys had missed out on too, when his Court had been an enemy of most of the land for most of his life.

And they thoroughly enjoyed their adventuring, seduced by the beauty around them and, inevitably, by each other. They got naked together on the vast, white beaches of the Summer Court’s east coast, running into the ocean afterwards to wash off the sand. They picnicked in the tranquil forests of Dawn, which glowed with pink and golden light as if perpetually illuminated by the warmth of the morning sun - and feeding one another soon became a feast of a different kind. And in the mountain glades of their own Court, surrounded by winter snows, their noses were cold on each other’s cheeks as they shared body heat and breathless kisses, wrapped up tight beneath their thick, fur-lined coats. 

It was the luxury of time: the time they never got to share after she accepted the mating bond. The time they’d lost before they even found one another. The time to finally relax, after the war, after the fight for peace that continued long beyond the battlefield. 

It had taken Rhys a few days to really switch off, to leave behind his title and just be himself; her mate. It was the first time since he was a child that he’d let go of every responsibility, every ounce of weight and expectation which had sat upon his broad shoulders for the past five hundred years. But once he did - by the Gods he was glorious. Unglamored, his mind unshielded from her, he just smiled and laughed and played and… radiated happiness. 

And Feyre found it devastatingly attractive. 

“Let’s never go back,” he murmured at one point, his breathing still heavy after their latest round of lovemaking. They were sat on the rug in the cabin’s living area, leaning back against the couch, their skin heated by each other and their exertion and the roaring fire in the hearth. Outside snow fell heavily against the windows, wind howling, cocooning them in against the cold. Against the entire world outside. Safe and secure, just the two of them - so frequently intertwined they were almost one. 

Feyre smiled and pulled a blanket over them. “As much as I’d love that… you would miss it.” 

“Would I? I’m not sure. Not when I can have this instead.” 

He pulled her onto his lap, his violet gaze capturing hers for a long moment before he kissed her mouth, then a lazy path along her jaw. The things she saw in his eyes when he looked at her like that: the haze of pleasure still thrumming in his veins. The love he had for her, as deep and ancient and unending as his power. The fiery passion, the unquenchable lust for her - for more. Always more.  

She could feel herself melting into him all over again, even though the last aftershocks had barely faded from her body, her mind. “You are insatiable,” she sighed, already wet for him.

“I know.” His face was buried in her hair, his lips moving over the sensitive curve of her ear as his fingertips traced patterns on her ribs. “I still want you as much as the very first time.” Feyre moaned, her hips grinding against his renewed erection. “I still want to be inside you every fucking minute of every damn day.” He bit her earlobe and she whimpered his name. “It’s… madness. Isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

He looked at her again, his eyes black, his edges lost to darkness and night. When he dipped his head and swirled his tongue over her nipple, she rose up on her knees, positioning his rock-hard cock and sinking straight down onto him.

“Feyre,” he hissed. Rough hands held her face and his mouth claimed hers, needy and wild, as instinct made them move together in the rhythm that was theirs and theirs alone.

“Fuck me hard,” she commanded between ravenous kisses. This wasn’t enough - not yet. She needed to be owned. Split open. Destroyed. “Harder than… ever… before.”

He growled as he lifted her, as he stood and carried her to the wall beside the fireplace. But Feyre was barely aware of their surroundings as she cast her mind out towards his, grabbing him with impatient hands, pulling him in close - so close he enveloped her, smothered her, became her. Together they were the night sky, and the moon and the stars and the sun; together they were two fae bodies and two halves of the same soul and they were power incarnate.

She felt him hold her against the wall with a sliver of magic; felt his hands push her knees to her chest and then he was pounding into her and she was splintering, full to the brim with him, his cock hitting all her deepest spots. It was pleasure and stretching and exquisite, breath-taking pain, and just when she thought he might actually break her in two, she came.

And came.

And roared.

It went on forever. Her muscles clenched around him over and over as she gushed with wetness and pure ecstasy radiated outwards from her core, spreading all the way to her curled toes and her fingertips and further - bright light soaring into the world. It was so familiar and yet unlike anything she’d ever known before.

It was madness - just like he’d said.

Rhys slowed as she finally settled, just enough to reassure them both that she was alright. She managed to open her eyes and look at him; wanted to say something but there were no words. She might never be able to speak again, after that. But she knew he could feel it -everything she was. A fearsome warrior. A beautiful goddess.

A molten mess of hot, throbbing bliss.

“I love you,” he rasped, and winnowed them to the bed.

He lay over her and kissed her as he began to move again, his wings splaying out behind him. Feyre let him take her, let him lose himself inside her, powerless to do much other than enjoy. Her limbs still felt boneless, her body unable and unwilling to recover itself just yet. She knew it wouldn’t be long until he found his release. His momentary reprieve was already forgotten: he was thrusting hard and fast, and his mind was as untamed and dangerous as an ocean storm. It whipped and swirled around hers, crashing over them again and again, threatening to drown them both.

And always, underneath the chaos: Feyre. Love. Mine.

I love you, she whispered back, kissing him, holding him. I’m yours, and you’re mine. Until the end of time.

And then she took everything she’d felt just minutes ago - the indescribable rapture, the euphoria of the fall - and poured it into the bond between them. This, she said hoarsely, the memories and the feel of him right now bringing tears to her eyes. Become this, Rhys darling. Join me. Let go.

The ocean erupted.

Thunder and lightning and darkness filled the room, the cabin, the sky beyond. His uncontainable pleasure swallowed her, consumed her; the final thrusts of his hips shocked her into another orgasm, short but unbelievably sweet.

That surge of power between them was unlike anything they’d ever known before, and it took so long to recover that Feyre’s skin was entirely cold by the time she realised who and where she was again.

Rhys was lying half on top of her, his head on her chest. The light from the lamps was visible again, although outside she could still hear the rumble of his storm fading into the distance.

“What was that?” she managed to say, her voice barely audible.

He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers, and paused for a long moment before he spoke. “I don’t know. You told me to fuck you hard and then you grabbed onto my mind like that and I- I lost control of everything. Lost who I am. That’s never happened before.”

He leaned up on one elbow so he could see her. Then, realising that she was shivering, he reached over for the far edge of the duvet and wrapped it around them both. His gorgeous face, his dark blue eyes, were filled with a mixture of confusion and awe. “You never fail to surprise me, Feyre darling. You are… so dangerous.”

She couldn’t help but smile, even though she knew he was serious. “We are dangerous. Together we remade the Cauldron; remade the world. And I know it shouldn’t, but that power - it really turns me on.”

His laughter seemed to catch him by surprise, and the atmosphere changed in an instant. Feyre laughed too and reached up to kiss his cheek, his nose, the perfect arch of his eyebrow.

“I loved the storm,” she confessed, fingers sliding into his hair. “Very sexy.”

“I’ve never made lightning before,” he replied thoughtfully.

“That’s nothing compared to the way you made me feel.” Feyre pressed her mouth to his, overcome with affection. “I love all of you, Rhys,” she murmured, gazing deep into his eyes. “I love your mind and body all over mine. There is no piece of you that scares me. I want it all, always.”

He smiled at her, a truly beautiful smile, straight from his heart. And then he moved downwards, kissing her collarbone, between her breasts, her abdomen. “Do you think,” he mused, nuzzling his face into her lower belly, “With all that power… Maybe tonight we made something else?”

Feyre felt her chest constrict. “I hope so,” she said softly.

“Even if not tonight,” Rhys went on, crawling back up over her, drawing her with him towards the pillows so they could both settle into bed properly, “We will someday. I’m sure of it.”

She snuggled into his chest, taking his certainty and wrapping it tightly around herself like another layer of warmth. Now that the afterglow from the most intense orgasm of her life had finally faded, she realised she was utterly exhausted.

You were right, she told him drowsily. We should stay here forever.

He kissed her hair and squeezed her against him. I’m always right, darling. I thought you’d learned that by now.

Ssh. I’m sleeping. Goodnight.

“Goodnight my love.”

Feyre slept for a solid eight hours, and dreamed of nothing but their baby.

II

Back in snowy Velaris, in the quiet before dawn, she leaned back against the sink in the guest bathroom and waited. She had peed into a vial of clear liquid, which would change colour over the next few minutes as the compounds reacted with her pregnancy hormones. She had done several of these tests before, in secret in this room - always in hope rather than expectation, and always to be disappointed. Rhys never said anything, although she was sure he knew. He just held her when she was sad, and whispered that it wasn’t her fault, and that it would happen one day.

She rubbed her hands over her face and glanced at the vial.

This day.

A beautiful dark purple was blossoming there - just like the little life growing inside her body.

It wasn’t a surprise and yet Feyre still gasped; still put her hand to her mouth, trying and failing to hide her ridiculous smile. Her first thought was to run back to their bedroom; to leap on Rhys and wake him up and tell him the news between a thousand joyful kisses.

But something held her back. The stillness of the house, the calm of these solitary hours before the sun rose - she wanted to stay here just a little bit longer. To breathe deeply. To let her feelings wash over her, consume her: relief, excitement. Fear. Overwhelm.

Happiness.

The deep, soul-stirring happiness that only love could conjure. The kind that made her tremble and wrap her arms around her body, holding herself together even as she threatened to burst wide open. The kind that made her laugh, gathered tears beneath her eyelashes and shone through her skin like starlight. The kind that she felt with Rhys, with her friends and her sisters and now, with the tiny seed growing inside her - the newest member of their family.

She had wanted this for so long and now that it was real, it somehow didn’t feel real at all.

A baby.

Her and Rhys’s baby.

She wandered silently across the upstairs landing, feeling for her mate down the bond, checking he was still asleep. She sent him some reassuring thoughts: Feyre is fine; she woke up early and went to make a cup of tea. Sleep, rest. She’ll see you when the sun rises.

This lovely old house, which had been his but was now theirs. Over the past couple of years she’d added paintings, trinkets, books; an antique loveseat beneath the window which overlooked the back garden. And out there, the biggest change of all - her painting studio.

She passed one of the guest rooms on her way to the stairs; paused at the door and wondered if this would be the baby’s nursery. She would paint the walls - blue. The Bone Carver had shown her it would be a boy, and she believed him. Deep blue, like his father’s eyes, like the velvety night before the sunrise.

Her body trembled with disbelief, with hope.  

A baby.

She did make tea, in the kitchen, alone. Still no servants, thankfully. Then she slipped on her shoes and opened the back door. The air was crisp and clear; the only sound her footsteps on the snowy path. She used her power to wrap herself in warmth, and then again to heat and illuminate the inside of her studio. She wondered briefly if she should be careful using it, now that she was pregnant. But then again, she was made - literally Made - from magic. It pulsed through her with every beat of her heart. And Rhys was… well. He was Rhys. The most powerful High Lord there ever was. Their child was destined to be a magical being, probably even more so than his parents. And Feyre knew in that moment that her power could never hurt him. It had created him; it already swam through his blood.

She breathed in the familiar scent of her art space, which she and Rhys had built after the war ended. It was her sanctuary: two walls and the high ceiling made entirely of glass to let in the light during the day; the remaining surfaces all white but flecked with colour and scattered with canvases and paper, with ideas and sketches and endless possibility.

Her fingers twitched. She wanted to paint. When she was full of feelings like this, it was the best way she knew to start to make sense of them. And so she took a large, blank canvas and placed it on her easel; gathered brushes and colours - just black, white and one other; a mixing palette, a stool and a small table for her tea.

And she painted.

II

The sun had risen when Rhys found her.

A soft knock on the glass door startled her. She had no idea how long she’d been there.

Her mate entered, a fresh mug of tea in his hands. He was already dressed in his usual black, and she realised she was still in her long nightgown and robe.

“Good morning sweetheart,” he said, replacing her cup without looking at the canvas. He always waited to be invited to see her art; she didn’t like to reveal it until it was ready. Was this ready? She didn’t know. It would take days, weeks - maybe even months - to process all her emotions. She couldn’t sit here forever.

No, this wasn’t finished but it was… a start. Just like the dawn was the start of the day; just like today was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

She stood and walked into his waiting arms. “Hi.”

“I missed you,” he murmured into her hair. “I hate waking up alone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand. I’m just being petulant.”

Feyre laughed and glanced up, and he kissed her. Then his arms tightened around her back and she winced. Her breasts. Ouch.

Of course he noticed. “What, darling? Are you alright?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry.” He met her gaze again, concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem… different.”

She felt him reach for her down the bond, and asked him to wait outside. He would know the second he was inside her mind. ‘I’m pregnant!’ were pretty much the only words in there, throwing themselves around with nervous energy.

His eyes widened but he did as she asked.

Feyre took a deep breath. Then she pulled on his hand, leading him to stand in front of the easel.

“Look,” she said softly.

Up close, the picture was all blue - shades and shades of blue, from the palest icy breath to the darkest, inky sky. She stepped back several paces, drawing him with her. And just as she’d planned, everything became clearer from further away.

The mountains of their home. The storm - lightning and thunder. Not literal, but the feel of it. The two figures, swirling around one another, light and dark - like how their minds melded, how they belonged. And in the centre, cradled between them - a flicker of white. A spark of hope.

A new life.

She looked up at Rhys. He was still staring at the painting but his breathing was heavier, his fingers gripping hers so tightly it hurt.

“Do you see?” she whispered.

He turned his head towards her and his eyes were shimmering. “Feyre.”

It was almost a question, and she beamed as she answered it anyway:

“Yes.”

“You’re…”

She nodded, feeling tears rise and spill straight over onto her cheeks. “I am. I’m pregnant.”

“We’re having a baby?”

“We are.”

The most incredible smile took over his face. “Feyre!” He crushed her in a hug, immediately making her whimper as he squashed her chest against his.

“Shit,” he said hastily, drawing back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I woke up this morning and my breasts hurt. And I just knew.”

He gazed at her, his expression a mixture of absolute joy and utter disbelief. Gods, she loved him so much. And then she was crying, and he was brushing his fingertips and his lips over her face, and then they were kissing and she wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to never, ever forget how this felt.

He trailed his mouth down her body, pressing kisses to every inch he passed. Then he knelt before her, knelt on his mountains and stars and rested his forehead against her belly. Feyre stroked his hair, her tears still falling.

Our baby, he said silently, reverently.

Feyre let down her shield, let him see the pregnancy test and the dreams she’d had that night in the cabin; let him feel her excitement, her elation, her relief.

Our baby, she echoed.

She sank down to the floor and into his arms, and they held onto each other for the longest time.

“You know,” Rhys said eventually, his tone light - but she could feel the waves of emotion crashing down the bond, every so often making him gasp for breath. “I was right. That night I made the storm - I told you we’d make a baby too.”

“Oh, so this is all about you?” she teased.

He kissed her again, smiling against her lips. “On the contrary, Feyre darling. This is all about you now. I just like to get credit where credit’s due.”

She laughed quietly and held his face in her palms. “You are insufferable, and ridiculous, and the most handsome and loving and wonderful thing in the whole world. And you are going to be the best father to our boy.”

He blinked. “You believe the Bone Carver?”

“Don’t you?”

He nodded slightly. “I do.”

And he seemed speechless again, so she stood up and pulled him to his feet. When he looked at her questioningly, she grinned and tugged him towards the door beyond which the new day’s sun was shining down, already melting the snow.

“Come on,” she said brightly. “I’m cancelling all our plans and sending the servants home. I want to spend the whole day just lying with you, and daydreaming about our baby, and maybe even recreating the night he was conceived. If that’s okay with you?”

She started to lead him back down the garden path, but didn’t get far.

Her delighted screams filled the winter air as he scooped her up and carried her straight to their bed.

II

TBC

[skambigbang]

And so it begins! The SKAM Big Bang 2024 sneak peek at the stories coming your way starts now! Read on for behind the scenes inspirations! First Up:

To Build a Home written by Happily_EVAK_After with art from CelesteKay, and beta support from Dummerjan

Happily_EVAK_After what inspired your story? Having read so many amazing stories on Ao3, I decided to Beta a story for last years Big Bang. I also started thinking about my own fic and before long started writing it. The inspiration on Ao3 is breathtaking, so much talent! I uploaded my first short fic in December for a "winter wonderland" themed prompt on Instagram and was hooked.

CelesteKay what inspired your art? I love the way stars and stargazing tie Isaks relationships together, with his parents and Even. The wedding in general is also an inspiration.

Dummerjan what inspired you to become a beta? I was beta last year and it was fun to be a small part of the Big Bang. I enjoy proofreading and seeing a story develop.

The SKAM Big Bang starts June 21st! Follow us for more sneak peeks and share!

[ceilingstar07]

HOTD season 2 was such a letdown😭

i dislike how the writers blatantly ignored the great source material they had right in front of them and literally turned it into their rhaenyra x alicent fanfic

Rook's Rest and the Red Sowing were amazing but the episode 8 was not a finale. If episode 8 (minus rhaenyra x alicent) was not the final episode, it would've been an alright episode. The writers were afraid of making Team Black look bad in any way that they made them all righteous and "good" and overall, bland. Whenever there was a Team Black scene (especially the council scenes), I couldn't help but want to fall asleep. There was little to no nuance. The writers obviously don't like Team Green, but their scenes had so much more nuance and complex dynamics that made for an enjoyable watch. A lot of writing for character arcs are inconsistent or lacking the season 1 quality. Daemon's character arc is the one that's the most messed up because his slow Harrenhal arc that just ends with the weird vision. Saying "Winter is Coming" just feels so out of place for him to say. I miss season 1 ep6 and ep7 Alicent. Why did the writers turn her into someone that would sell out her sons when she was so fiercely protective of them in season 1? I'm not someone who only wants action in a show. I love long, complex conversations between characters and monologues ... when they are well-written. Season 2 had long conversations, but most of them (especially Team Black's) were just not intriguing enough - they were repeating topics in many episodes without taking any action (except the dragonseed plot). The Season 1 finale promised war and by the end of Season 2, we're still waiting for the actual war. Season 2 was not really worth the 2 year wait (except for Rook's Rest) and now we have to wait for another 2 years before we get any actual "all-out war".

I could go on and on about how underwhelming this season was, but it won't change anything. The fault lies with the writers and HBO for making jarring changes to the plot and stretching out already such a small amount of material.

On a more positive note though, the actors were amazing and really brought their A-game. A lot of the scenes with the minor characters were fantastic. The production design is breathtaking. The cinematography and costumes were absolutely gorgeous. The dragon designs and CGI were AMAZING. I love Ramin Djawadi's soundtracks and was disappointed that the showrunners didn't give him much to do this season. But he still cooked with what he was given. "All Must Choose" is the best ASOIAF song I've heard since "The Night King".

Hopefully, they can turn things around for Season 3, but I don't have much faith because it seems that Ryan Condal and especially Sara Hess are not going anywhere.