#i hope it’s a blizzard and turns into a snow day

[formula-ghost]

Under the Northern Lights (OP81 x fem!reader)

SUMMARY: Under the Northern Lights, your husband reveals to you that he's finally ready to take the final step

WARNINGS: Mentions of pregnancy

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

A/N: I am not in a tax bracket high enough to afford skiing and I also am from a place where it very rarely snow so I hope this is accurate enough! Also to the anon who requested this, this ended up going in a totally different direction than I think you were wanting so I'm sorry but I still hope you enjoy!

Oscar pulled you in closer, warming you, his arm around your waist. Through the layers upon layers, the true warmth was him, holding you, smiling at the camera as Kelly snapped away. Around you, the snow fell in sheets, blanketing you, and you shivered. You turned, kissing Oscar on the cheek for one last photo, and even in the cold winter that surrounded you, you felt a warm blush light up his cheeks. 

Oscar, your husband, still blushing like a school boy when you kissed him in public. 

Kelly handed you back your phone as you all scurried back into the cabin, shedding your now soaked layers piece by piece.

“The snow is going to get really bad tonight,” she said, holding Penelope’s hand as she gently brushed the snowflakes off of her nose, and the young girl laughed. “We have to stay warm, okay?”

Her daughter nodded, and you lazily scrolled through the photos, smiling at the sweet picture of you and Oscar.

Your husband. The cold ring underneath your thick gloves to prove it. It still didn’t seem real. You had stood before him, your dress as white as the snow that now fell in droves outside, and he had said, “I do.” And he had lived it every day since. 

“We should probably get back while we still can,” Max said, patting Oscar on the shoulder. Max’s cabin was only feet away next door, but he would have to brave the cold to take his family back in one un-frozen piece.

“Be careful,” Oscar advised, shaking his head to get rid of the snow. You smiled at him, for no particular reason. “I would say we’ll see you tomorrow, but with all this…”

His head turned to the window, gesturing towards the flurries that were now turning more to blizzards.

“Okay, P, do you think you can brave the cold?” you asked, leaning down to help Kelly get her daughter’s coat back on after shaking it out.

“Of course!”

“Awesome, kiddo. Go on, then. Tomorrow we can make snow angels?”

She leaned in towards you and whispered, “Can we throw snowballs at Max?”

You nodded, matching her seriousness. “Absolutely.”

The young girl grinned, being led out of the cabin by her mother as Oscar chuckled. 

“You’re so good with her,” he said, only moments after the Vertsappen-Piquet family had closed the door behind them. “You’ll be a great mother someday.”

You smiled softly, melancholy rising in your throat. You wanted nothing more than to be a wife and mother. But Oscar’s career made the latter half of that wish…difficult.

“Someday,” you echoed, turning away from him.

But as you all settled in for a cozy, intimate dinner after a day of skiing, you couldn’t help the sadness that had settled deep into your bones, deeper even than the cold that you had managed to shake.

Later that night, Oscar held you in his arms, fire blazing before you, lazily running his hands up and down the curves of your back and waist. 

This should be everything you ever wanted. You should be content.

But your mind drifted off to a few months ago, sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom in your shared apartment with Oscar.

“Negative,” you said, holding the test in your trembling hands.

Oscar ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Thank God…”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“We can’t have a kid now, YN. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have to race. And we’re planning a wedding. What if your dress didn’t fit?”

You sat there in silence.

“We’ll have them someday. But not today,” he assured. But his comments provided no real assurance.

“I wanted them now.”

“I know. But we can’t.”

“When will you stop racing? 10, 20 years from now?” you asked.

“YN—”

“Nevermind,” you said, cutting him off. “Just… nevermind.”

But he found you later, sulking in the living room.

“YN…” he said, his voice smooth and sweet, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it?”

“I just…want us to be ready, that’s all.”

“I was ready. I am ready.”

“I’m not,” he said plainly. “And I need to be. I want to be there for you throughout all of it.”

“I’m sorry I got upset with you,” you said, taking his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with no real intentions, other than to have the simple feeling of touching him.

“Don’t be,” he responded. “I shouldn’t have said it like that.” He squeezed your hand, a silent sign that he meant it.

“Do you promise?” you asked. “That one day we will?”

“YN,” he began, “I cannot wait to have a family with you one day. When we’re both ready.”

You shouldn’t be upset about it still. But you couldn’t help it. You got up, disturbing where Oscar had nearly fallen asleep beneath you, and went to the window, watching the last dregs of the storm leaving the ground outside lost in the bright haze of snow.

“Snowed in,” you said, your voice low.

Oscar hummed in response, getting up to put out the fire.

“Come to bed,” he said later. You had lost track of how long you had been looking out the window.

“It’s just so…peaceful,” you said. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around, and gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head. 

“The bed is even more peaceful.”

You fell into a restless, dreamless sleep, one that didn’t stick, leaving you awake a few hours later. But when you rolled over to seek the familiarity of your sleeping husband, he wasn’t there.

You saw him through the doorway, standing at the window, staring in awe. You slowly crawled out of bed, blankets wrapped around you, and made your way to him. 

“What are you looking at?”

“Look,” he instructed, pointing out the window. “The Northern Lights.”

“Oh, wow…” you said, craning your neck to see the cascading purples and greens in silken layers in the sky above.

You were frozen, there, in that moment.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Oscar said, “but I’m glad you’re up.”

“It’s beautiful.” You didn’t look away from the window, mesmerized by the colors. 

��Here,” he said, sitting down, crossing his legs, and patting the ground next to him, “Sit.”

You did so, wrapping him up in the blanket, in silence as you all just stared out of the window at the reflection of the lights on the snow below.

“I love you,” Oscar whispered, his gaze still fixed on the lights.

“I love you too.”

“I want to have a baby.”

“What?” you said, your head turning to his, which still hadn’t moved.

But he looked down at you then, his gaze soft, full of love. “I want to have a baby.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“But…what changed?”

“Nothing, really. I just feel ready now.”

“Like…right now?”

“Sure.”

You chuckled at Oscar’s cool demeanor, the way he could say such powerful things with such a nonchalant tone.

He reached over to you, his hand touching your waist, making its way under your pajamas and finding the familiar warmth of your skin. He kissed you, softly, as if you would pull away at any moment.

And you did.

“Oscar, are you sure?”

“You think I haven’t thought this through?”

“I’m sure you have.”

“Then what’s stopping us?”

“I just…”

He cradled your face in his hands. “YN, you are the love of my life. My wife. My everything. And I want to make you a mother, start a family with you. I love you so, so much. We don’t have to do it now if you aren’t ready—”

“I was afraid that you lied,” you blurted out. “That you’d never want this.”

You looked away in shame. “It’s not about you. I never doubted you, just…I thought that racing would always get in the way.”

“I will dress our baby in exclusively McLaren onesies,” Oscar joked. 

“And what if they end up being a Ferrari fan?”

“Then unfortunately I will have to disown my firstborn,” he said, a sarcastic smile on his face. “But seriously, I’ll take a break if I need to. It can wait.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I know. But I’d do it anyway. Because I love you. And I’d love our baby more than any trophy or title.”

Tears had welled up in your eyes then. You looked out the window, where the lights were fading, replaced by ordinary stars that formed constellations you knew only Oscar could name. 

“So,” he said, gently bringing your focus back to him and wiping away your tears, “do you want to come back to bed and make a baby with me?”

You paused. 

“I’d like that very much.”

[serpentface]

Pylidaigh

(A story to teach children about winter safety.)

Thirty years ago was the worst winter in living memory. Even in the lowlands the rains came only as blizzards and pelting sleet, and in the mountains the snow was so deep it almost came up to your knees, and the cold was so bitter that you could feel the blood freezing in your cheeks. The winter barley was dead before it could be born, and cattle and horses starved and perished in huddled, shivering masses. Many people died that year.

I speak now of one of them. He was a stubborn old man, still quite fit in body and defiant to the point of foolishness, and so he had deigned to travel even in these conditions. Only a short distance, mind you, a path between two villages that would be a breezy two hour's walk in good weather. But this was not good weather. The journey had taken up most of the daylight hours, and there was still a good ways to go. The sun was setting red across the low plains far to the west, and a mass of dark cloud loomed in the east. The old man was growing very, very tired.

He passed into a thick copse of pines where the snow was shallow, and he considered stopping to rest until morning. It would be a miserable night, to be sure, but he could tough it out. He had the warmest of woolen coats, and there was plenty of fuel about for a fire and good shelter if the weather turned. But now, in the distance of the valley beneath him, he could see the lights of his village. He was so close! He would just have to trudge his way down a little longer, and then he would be bundled in blankets in front of a warm hearth with some hot mead, and this sorry excursion would be no more than a bad memory. A little snow couldn't defeat him.

So he set out with renewed vigor, leaving the trees behind him. The eastern wind whistled past his ears, picking up now, and a crow flew right in front of his face and lit itself on a lone pine. It cawed three times in warning. He cursed at it.

And soon the wind had turned into a gale, and it carried with it a terrible storm. The snow fell again, heavy and wet, and the lights of the village were lost to him. And the wind only blew harder, and the blizzard became so thick he could barely see the hand on his outstretched arm. His clothes were becoming soaked down to his very skin, and he shivered ceaselessly. There was great fear in his heart now, for he could grudgingly acknowledge that he had made a terrible error. But there was still hope. If he could just keep moving downhill!

But his fate was decided, for the cold madness began to take him. Even as he trembled, the old man felt as if his flesh was burning. He took off his hat, then his coat, and then his tunic. He took his boots off, then his pants, until he was walking through the blizzard naked as the day he was born. He felt none of the cold though, only a terrible, bone-deep weariness. He lay down in the snowdrifts and curled up into a ball. The old man died where he laid.

The blizzard raged on for two bitter days and nights. When it was over, the bad weather broke and the day became was sunny and mild. But the reprieve came too late. The old man’s corpse was completely covered beneath the snow. His very soul had frozen over.

Those in the village below had been looking for his return on the night he died, and by now were quite certain of his fate. His family wept and mourned for the beloved old fool, but none dared to go look for his body, for this had its own dangers.

"We will search for him as soon as we can, but not yet," the old man's son said. "If he froze to death in that storm (and he certainly did), waiting a little longer won't make any difference. We will find him when the snow has melted."

But the dead man's grandson had inherited some of his grandfather's obstinate bravery, and was having none of this cowardly talk. The day was beautiful and clear, and so fair that he could have gone out bare-chested with little discomfort. This was hardly the kind of weather in which one was met with an icy death, or any of the worse things that a bad winter can bring. So he set out, in secret, along the path to the upper village.

The youth did not have to travel very long before he found signs of his elder. There was a hat blown up against a shriveled old oak, and a boot stuck out from a snowdrift. But there was no sign of the old man himself. The boy had already stepped right through the place where the man had lain dead, but he noticed nothing. There was nothing for him to notice. The body was gone.

He kept on walking and looking for signs. And as he traveled, he started to hear something. It was the sound of footsteps, crunch, crunch, crunch. And the sound of something dragging over the snow, sssssss. The youth saw nothing when he looked around, but the sounds continued, growing closer and closer. He grew more fearful, but he could make out no movement against the white snow until the footsteps were almost upon him.

There stood his grandfather, but not as he knew him. His naked flesh was so pale he could barely be seen against the snow. He was little more than skin and bone, looking more like a skeleton than a man. His arms were longer than he was tall, and they dragged behind him as he walked, quickly now, crunch, crunch, crunch, ssssssssss.

The youth started to run, and the pylidaigh ran after him, crunchcrunchcrunchcrunch sssssssssssssss. He was a strong and athletic young man, so he began to gain a lead. But then the hissing stopped. The next thing the boy felt was cold hands wrapping around his chest. The pylidaigh had grabbed him, and it reeled him in with its terrible arms. It was much stronger than the boy, and he was pulled helplessly against the ghost’s freezing, shivering chest.

A pylidaigh is not a truly evil spirit, you see. There is little malice within it. There is little in it whatsoever, save for the endless, horrible cold, and dim memories of what it was to be alive. It remembers what it was like to feel the sun on its skin, hot tea in its stomach, the warm touch of a hand. A pylidaigh can never feel this warmth again, and yet is consumed with a terrible desire for it.

So it held its grandson close, but it wasn’t enough. The heat from the youth's body could not warm its frozen skin. It had to have more.

It pulled him in tighter and tighter, so tight that the boy's bones started to crack and his tongue squeezed out, and it still wasn’t enough. It had to have more.

So it sunk its teeth into its grandson’s neck and ripped out his throat. The hot blood sprayed out, all over the pylidaigh’s skin and the snow around it, and it still wasn’t enough. It had to have more.

So it sucked out all of the blood, until the boy was almost as pale and shriveled as the pylidaigh. And when that wasn’t enough, it bent down, frenzied, and slurped up the rest of the spilled blood from the corpse, and from its own frozen skin, and from all the snow around it.

The pylidaigh was swollen up like a tick now, but not even a man’s entire lifeblood could warm its frozen body. It had to have more. So it left what was once its grandson dead in the snow, and wandered towards the fires of the village.

It arrived in the cover of darkness. The people heard it before they saw it. First, a brave dog barking, then a long, terrible silence. Then a sound outside- crunch, crunch, crunch, ssssssss. It approached each and every hut, seeing the lights of warm hearths within. But it could not gain entry. The villagers had wisely cleared away the snow from their doors and windows, for winter spirits cannot cross over the bare earth. All the same, it scratched at the doorways and reached through open windows from a distance, its arms searching blindly through the air for anything that breathed and bled. Old men and small children alike huddled in far corners, and wept at the sight of its empty white face and black eyes.

The night passed in horror, but the ghost was gone by the morning light. The next day was even warmer and sunnier than the day before. A few days later, the snow had melted until only little patches remained, and so a search went out for the remains of both the old man and the young boy. But there was nothing to be found, not even of the poor boy, for he had frozen beyond help too. The two ghosts had fled high into the mountain, where the snow still lay in thick sheets, and where they could wait in hidden, icy grottoes through the summer's heat.

Neither has been seen again by any who lived to tell of it, but they are not gone. In winters when the snow falls thick and lasts long, pylidaigh come back down the hills. The wise do not wander needlessly, stay inside at night, and keep their doorways clear of snow. But on nights when the snow falls heavy, you may hear them outside. A scratching at the door, the chattering of teeth, slow footsteps, crunch, crunch, crunch, and a dragging hiss, ssssssssss.

[timble-tumble]

RIN FROM THE MIMIC EXCEPT ITS RIN ITOSHI

TAGS: rin n sae, absolute pure crack, mentions of hard ons (once), I diss mimic (sorry roblox mimic fans)

A/N: this idea emerged when I watched Rogurt play and shit on the new Mimic Roblox chapter, let me just say I actually have 0 idea what is going on in it, but watching that reminded me my favourite chapter (Jealousy I) had some woman chasing me around named Rin and therefore I immediately have to make it about bllk and wowee look

You’re bored, doomscrolling your life away as you lazily reach for the molecules of crumbs hiding in your basically empty chip packet. Eventually, you find something that will occupy your shortening attention span for a minute or so– Roblox horror game recommendations. The video recommends ‘The Mimic’, announcing the new chapter 4 and the ‘exciting’ new content it brings. Being starved to death with boredom, you decide to boot up your dusty computer to play it since it’s better than scrolling for another 2 hours. Your computer whines as it boots up as you get ready to abuse it after yet another game makes you rage-quit. You search up ‘The Mimic’, unconsciously clicking on the first result before the game icon even has a chance to load.

Once you load it, you roam around a bit and appreciate (or atleast try to, a bit hard with your shitty graphic settings) the new lobby before hitting play. Instead of choosing the new chapter like you said you would, you just went with your old time favourite– Jealousy I. You would always play it with your friends, always stopping right after poisoning one rat because you couldn’t be bothered to go find the others, instead opting to just go bully kids on Adopt Me. This time, you made it a goal to finish the whole chapter or atleast get past Rin before chickening out.

You load into the familiar starting streets of a dimly lit road leading the office building, quickly scavenging for the key and talking to your half-dead brother, barely skimming over whatever he’s yapping about. Hopping onto the boat, you look up to stare at the Majora’s Mask looking moon before being swallowed by some monster you still haven’t identified to this day.

You expect to load into the traditional Japanese buiding, but are instead greeted with the snowy grasslands of…..

a soccer field?

“The fuck?” you speak to yourself, confused.

You look around, the snow blinding your screen as a blaring sound of a blizzard storms pours out your speakers and into your ear drums. Slowly moving, you find a book burried in the thickets of unkept grass blades. You press ‘E’, opening up the book and starting a small cutscene. You hope for it to be the original story of how Rin ate Mio, but assuming from arriving on some damn soccer field you expect otherwise.

Long ago, there lived two brothers. The brothers were prodigies at soccer, constantly honing their ego and perfecting their skills. One day, the eldest– Sae, left for Spain. He eventually came back, but something about his demeanour was off. The two brothers, versed each other in a soccer match, with Sae victorious. The youngest– Rin, questioned their overwhelming power gap but was never told why. Jealousy overtook Rin, and to satisfy his ego he consumed his own brother. This action led to a mysterious mouth appearing on the back of Rin’s head– the mouth of Sae, who constantly wailed for ass, otherwise resulting in extreme pain for both.

The cutscene ends, with it’s story resulting in a side eye and your jaw dropped on the floor. This is DEFINITELY not the Mimic you remember. You shrug, deciding to continue playing it as it sounds like a fun experience and would make a good game to play with your friends while you laugh hysterically at what you just witnessed.

But what you’re witnessing right now is even more hilarious.

You turn your player over to a shrilling scream from the far end of the field, followed by a figure running up to you. You decide it’s an excellent idea to run towards what was presumably the monster to get a better look, and upon closer inspection your doubts have been cleared, because instead of the classic Jealousy I monster Rin Tsushima, it is now Rin Itoshi from Blue Lock with his tongue flailing around like that one animation (cough), with a wailing Sae screaming for your booty cheeks on the back of his head. You tilt your head slightly down to see him sporting a massive hard on. How nice.

You audibly laugh (correction: absolutely fucking scream in pure laughter).

You quickly type in the command to take a screenshot, dragging your mouse over Rin, before hitting the shift key to zoom away faster than anytime you’ve ran for track in PE. You hear heavy footsteps and loud crunches of snow and grass following behind you, accompanied with a shrill voice still screaming for cheeks. The objective chimes on the top right-hand corner of your screen.

Objective:

Poison three soccer balls 0/3

Bait Rin towards the goal and feed him the balls 0/3

“Oh man aren’t I in for a jolly time,” you giggle while wiping the tears pooling up in your eyes from laughter.

Wasting no time, you find the three soccer balls and give them a nice dunk in the bottle of poison conveniently placed on one of the spectating benches, all while Rin continues to chase you down with his horrifyingly long tongue. After poisoning all three, you bait Rin as told and watch the beautifully rendered cutscene play where his stupid ass delightfully munches on the balls like he’s been starved for 2000 years (he probably has considering the story).

“Ahh…” Rin slowly trudges towards you, glaring down at your character, “You dare try to trick me with balls?”

You can’t help but giggle at that sentence.

He moves even closer, the shitty model somehow conveying more anger than you thought a Roblox game could. “You’ve upset Sae.”

Rin flops over to show the gaping mouth on the back of his head, screeching it’s ass (mouth, technically) off to let it be known it is indeed, very, very, upset. You have a hunch it didn’t like those soccer balls.

If you remember correctly, this is where you try to escape getting brutally mauled by Rin in the actual game. You were never too good at the chase sequences (although you’re pretty sure it’s just because the chases suck balls), but after evading seek in Doors countless times you’re pretty sure you can do it this time. Cracking your knuckles, you set your hand on the WASD keys.

But instead, you’re met with a blank screen, reflecting another hideous face instead of the shitty Rin model (your face incase you couldn’t figure it out).

“Bruh-”

Before you can go ranting on about how this game practically edged you and left you on a damn cliffhanger, Rin makes a final appearance in the lovely Rin animation with the song blasting through your shitty laptop speakers. You jump, not expecting that ending as your computer churns and processes to show, “Disconnected- Reason: Kicked from game.”

Well, that was entertaining for a bit. Back to scrolling.

jumpscare

[yanderedrabbles]

The North Wind & His Bride

The North Wind was the coldest and cruelest of winds. So when a man came to your father's door claiming to be him and asking for your hand, your father was quick to turn him away.

"My daughter is too bright and too kind to be wasted on the worst of the winds. Come back once you learn to carry spring on your breath instead of snow."

And all that night the wind whispered down your chimney. You dreamt strange dreams - of the colours found only at the edge of the world, of snow flurries and seas black as night.

The man returned the next day. And your father once again refused him. "Come back when you can grant succor to the poor and the pitiful and not freeze them where they sleep."

That night, the wind keened even higher and rattled the window shutters. You dreamt of a wedding dress with frost for lace and a ring the gold of sunrise on snow. When you woke, your ring finger was cold as ice.

The man did not come again that day and you huddled close to the fire, rubbing warmth back into your bones. Your father paced his study and tried to scheme a way of avoiding the wind.

That night, the air laid still as in a coffin and you slept the black sleep of the drowned. You woke in time to see the first snow of the year, two months too early.

Your father's crops froze in the ground or rotted with the thaw. He paced his study and tried to scheme a way of avoiding the creditors.

When next your suitor came, your father's good manners had been worn down by debt collectors and bank notes. He snapped at the wind like a thing cornered. "Come back when you can guide ships safe to port and not wreck them on icy shores."

That night, a blizzard blew in from the north and any creature not crouched by the fire or huddled indoors was found frozen solid. You dreamt again, of a man with cold hands and even colder eyes who danced with you under foreign stars.

Your suitor did not come again but terrible news did. Your brother's ship was wrecked by a storm high on the winter coast. All souls were lost.

Through your grief, a terrible anger began to grow.

When next your suitor came, you greeted him at the door. He had a face as finely chiseled as an ice sculpture and eyes the deep black of the hinterland sea.

"If you would have me as your bride, then I will have a dowry from you."

He took your hand in his and his touch chilled you worse than a corpse's would. He looked at you with a hunger born out of winter and scarcity and cold.

"Anything. Ask anything of me and you can have it."

All through your brother's funeral you thought of ways to avenge him. And now you asked the North Wind for the one thing you thought he could never obtain.

"In a kingdom far south of here, where the snow never falls and the winter never comes, there is a jewel carved from the sun God's bones. Bring me that as a wedding band and I will be your bride."

You thought he would flinch or ask you to reconsider. Instead he bowed and kissed your hand and said he would soon return.

You felt your hope slipping, but he did not return the next day. Or the day after that. The end of autumn came without snow or gales or the return of your suitor. Slowly, you began to breathe again. Began to heal from your brother's death. Began to dream of summer and love and fresh fruit bursting between your teeth.

The winter equinox dawned with clear skies. There was to be feasting that night, and dancing. You dressed your hair with silver chains and sweetened your lips with winter berries. When the music started, one young man after another swept you into his arms and spun you around the bonfire. You tilted your head back and laughed and flirted and forgot all about your suitor.

Near midnight, the wind started to blow. The fire hissed as snowflakes drifted down from suddenly cloudy skies. Your dance partner caught one on his glove and offered it to you. Daring and high on the thrill of dancing, you licked it off his finger. "Tastes of winter in storm," you teased and when he took you for another dance, you wondered if you'd caught yourself a husband.

He spun you around but the arms that caught you were icy cold even through the fine velvet of the wearer's suit.

Midnight tolled and you looked up into the eyes of the North Wind.

He pulled your hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against your skin. At his touch, even the bonfire at your back seemed to lose its warmth.

"The journey south was wrecked with danger and the sun almost melted me clean away, but I have brought your dowry."

Before you could pull away, he slipped a ring onto your finger. It was the gold of fire and sunset and desert sand, and it's warmth spread through you.

The snow turned into a blizzard but you didn't notice it. The wind outside the safety of his arms was sharp as stinging nettles and the townsfolk called to each other in panic, barely able to keep their torches from blowing out.

The North Wind kissed your cheek, eyes glimmering with triumph.

"You're mine now. My spring bride, my dearest love."

All your dreams of a sweet summer love melted. When the snow finally settled, you were no longer in the town square but in a throne room at the edge of the world. Green and blue lights danced in the sky and shone through the palace ceiling, bathed your new husband in all the colours of his kingdom.

He leaned forward and claimed his first kiss.

When you pulled away and tried to step out of his embrace, he tightened his grip and his smile both.

"You are my wife now," he explained in a voice as comforting as frostbite, "And a wife cannot refuse her husband's love."

Your sun ring was the only spot of warmth on your body and you clung desperately to the anchor it offered.

"I would not refuse you, husband of mine. But I am the daughter and the sister of common men and there are traditions to uphold before I can climb into your wedding bed."

"What more must I do to have you?"

What would he be unable to do, here at the end of the world?

"Build me a fire that burns all day and all night on one stick of wood and you can have me as promised."

"These are strange traditions you have, wife of mine. But I have come this far to have you, and I will go further yet."

He left you with a flurry of snow and the hissing shriek of a gale. When he was gone, you paced the throne room from one end to the other and could not find a door. Everything about the room was as stark and cold as he.

Exhausted and chilled, you sat at the foot of his throne. What terrible thing did you do to earn the love of the North Wind? You wiped away your tears and then jumped at the hissing sound they made when they touched your ring. Like water spilled on coals.

"You've melted his heart," your ring hissed. "And he cannot afford to let you go."

You stared at your hand. Eventually you found your voice and the strength to ask, "How do I escape him?"

"Trick him. His heart holds all his power. If you have it, you can ride the wind far from here. He was once a man and still might be tempted into a deal."

The ring was silent after that and you waited for your husband's return with bated breath. It was dawn when he came to you, a branch slung over his shoulder. It was of a dry, white wood that you didn't recognise.

There were no fireplaces in the North Wind's palace and so he laid the branch at your feet before he lit it. It caught with a harsh crackle and fire spread across it in a greenish haze. You stretched your fingers out to feel the heat and even the meagre warmth of it was a comfort.

But that comfort turned to a slow dawning horror when you realised the branch wasn't turning to ash. The fire ate at it but the wood refused to darken.

"It's a branch from Death's own orchard," your husband said proudly. "It can burn for eternity and never go out."

"Well done," you said, even though your lips were numb from panic. "But we must watch it burn for the full day and night or else our marriage cannot be consummated."

He sat down beside you and curled his arm around your waist. "It is an easy task to watch this fire, wife of mine. When I grow tired, I need only think of the reward that awaits me."

For a whole day and night, the North Wind held you his arms and watched the fire burn. When Dawn's light touched his palace again, he kissed your shoulder and then your neck and then your lips. He sighed with a deep contentment.

"At last I will have you."

With each kiss, you felt yourself grow colder. With each caress, the binding ties of marriage grew tighter. All night you thought of a trade to offer him and now you said it aloud.

"Husband of mine, I will come willingly to your bed and serve willingly as your wife. But I would ask you first for a boon."

"Ask, wife of mine. If it is mine to grant, then I shall grant it."

You slipped off his lap and turned to look at him.

"I would have your heart."

The North Wind sighed and miles away, a gale began to form. "You already have it."

"So have said countless suitors over countless years to countless girls. And still they were unfaithful, unkind. If your love ever turns away from me, I will be stuck here at the end of world with naught but sea bears and ice hounds to comfort me."

The North Wind sat on his throne and regarded you with eyes old as the mountains. In his own hall, in his own country, he did not seem like a man who could easily be tricked. Still, you tried. You let your hands drift across his cheeks and up his thighs, let his skin bask in the warmth of your touch.

"Grant me this, husband. And I will be yours for eternity."

Was it lust or love that made him hand you a knife and bid you cut out his heart? He guided your hand to the tender spot between his ribs and the bare skin of his chest almost made your reconsider.

The blade was carved out of whalebone and moonlight and he was bleeding before you even pressed down. You thought of your brother, drowned in the ice so far from home and found the strength to slice into him.

The blood that welled up from his chest was thick and black as oil. Where it touched your skin, hoatfrost bloomed.

He didn't seem to feel any pain - he only pulled you higher up his lap and watched the guilt and horror flicker across your face.

When the cut was deep enough, you pushed your hand into his chest and felt for his heart. His organs were colder even than his skin and it felt like you'd sunk your hands into snow.

The beating of his heart mirrored yours and when you finally grabbed it, the thrumming of his blood sounded just like your own.

You held the North Wind's heart in your hand and pulled it from his chest.

All at once, in all the countless winter kingdoms, the wind stopped howling and the snow grew still.

His heart was the size of your palm and oozed icy blood over your fingers. It was so cold that at first you didn't realise the numbness in your hand was spreading. It crawled up your arm like a burning frost and locked your bones in place.

You couldn't drop his heart even if you tried.

The North Wind looked at you with an indulgent, amused smile. And when the ice reached your heart he leaned up and kissed you.

He kissed you and for once his lips felt warm, felt human. Dimly, you realised it wasn't him who was getting warmer, it was you who was freezing over. Becoming a thing of ice and hunger as he was.

"Now you need never fear I will abandon you." The North Wind ran his hands up your sides and warmth bloomed in his wake.

"Now you can control the wind as I do and ride it to the furthest reaches of the world. You can swim with the sea bears and dance with the witches."

You looked down and realised his heart was almost gone, melted into your bones and blood.

He kissed you again. "My love, you are as free as the wind."

It wasn't until then that you realised the cost of freedom. The cost of having the North Wind's heart. And when he drew you up in his arms and lead you to your wedding bed, you were too cold to turn him away.

[flowersforbucky]

delirium

bucky barnes x reader (sex pollen trope)

word count: 4.1k

summary: stranded in the middle of the alaskan wilderness with no means of communication after being exposed to a foreign drug, you're reluctant to accept help from the one person who has a shot at saving you.

warnings/tags: sex pollen, dub con, unprotected sex, oral, masturbation, angst, descriptions of physical pain, language, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, reader is afab, 18+ only

flashbacks are in italics

Sometime in the near future, there would be a case study conducted on how long a human being could burn from the inside without dying.

They would refer to you as exhibit a.

Doctors and scientists would lay your cold corpse on a colder table and use a scalpel to cut you from your thorax to your belly button. They would scribble notes about how your lungs had turned to ash and your esophagus to molten lava.

They wouldn't say it, but they would think it's a shame, because your driver's license states that you were an organ donor.

A harsh gust of wind snaps you out of the twisted fantasy and back to your reality - standing barefoot on the rickety front porch steps of a small cabin in Sitka, Alaska. You've only been outside for a few minutes but the snow is pouring down at a brutal pace, already covering the tops of your exposed feet.

The razor sharp chill of the ground below you and the air that surrounds you are the only things tethering you to what little remains of your sanity.

You never thought that you would be so thankful for your feet to be going numb, but after feeling like every fiber of your being is getting melted with a hot branding iron for - what? Ten? Twelve hours now? You had to resist the temptation to submerge your entire body in the multiple feet of snow that had accumulated since nightfall.

You hear the front door of the cabin creak open from behind you. You don't have to turn around to know that he's standing in the doorway with the same look of pleading desperation that he's been giving you since the two of you had realized what was happening.

“You need to come back inside,” he says delicately. His voice is muffled by the roar of the snowstorm, but right now with heightened senses, you hear him just fine. “You're going to get hypothermia.”

You don't respond. The mere sound of his voice makes you grit your teeth together so hard that you're surprised the tiny bones don't shatter.

He keeps to the doorway, scared that if he takes one step closer, you'll flee into the miles of thick woods that surrounds you in only a pair of old sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. He murmurs your name in a tone that begs you to come in from the below freezing temperatures.

“What time is it now?” You barely recognize your own voice - low and strained, it sounds like you haven't had anything to drink in days.

You clear your throat, though you doubt it'll make any difference.

“Just after four o'clock.”

Eleven hours into this hell, then. Best case scenario, another half a day of this. Worst case scenario, close to two.

Either way, you knew that these symptoms had yet to hit their peak. This would undoubtedly get worse before it gets better.

You stare out into the endless thicket of snow covered hemlocks and spruces. The illumination from the full moon makes the white powder on the branches glisten in the darkness.

Daylight was still hours away, and with it, hope for some means of communication with the rest of your team back in New York. The snowstorm had brought a widespread power outage across the city. Cell phone signal was nonexistent right now.

“Go on back to your room,” you tell him. “I'll come back inside in just a moment.” You continue to watch the blizzard before you, knowing that he's still just a few feet away from you. “I promise,” you add, hoping that he’ll believe you and return to the bedroom you'd been forcing him to keep to.

The drug coursing through your veins had amplified every one of your five senses. Even with him behind the closed door of the bedroom, you could still smell faint traces of the earthy musk of his deodorant and something warm that is uniquely him.

You wouldn't chance coming back into the house until his scent has dissipated from the entrance - not unless you want to feel as though all air is being stripped from your lungs.

Even simply standing here, with him behind you and the wind blowing his scent in the opposite direction, is nearly intolerable.

You hear footsteps retreat into the house, growing quieter and quieter as he makes his way back down the hallway, until you finally hear the click of his bedroom door. You exhale a breath that you weren't aware you had been holding in.

You have no doubt that he'll try to drag you back inside by the ankles if he has to, so you make good on your promise and return to the sweltering interior of the six hundred square foot log cabin.

A sharp, stabbing pain radiates from the center of your body at that thought - the exact kind of thoughts you were actively trying to avoid having. Thoughts of his hands digging into your thighs, his wet mouth on your throat, his bare chest pressed against yours as he fucks you into the likely thirty-something year old couch - those thoughts. Dangerous territory thoughts - the kind you didn't trust yourself not to act on if dwelled upon for too long.

Apparently, the thought of him putting his hands around your ankles and dragging you kicking and screaming falls into that category.

You settle onto the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest in an effort to alleviate the ache in your lower belly. You notice that Bucky has crammed more wood into the fireplace, which currently serves as the main source of light for the cabin, save for a few candles that have been placed sporadically throughout the small space.

Sweat begins to bead across your skin within seconds of sitting down in front of the fire. You know that Bucky is just trying to keep the temperature of the house from dropping below zero while also providing enough light to see during the middle of the night while you are in too much discomfort to sleep, but you feel like you are locked in a sauna after running five miles.

You think back to all of the times that you've given Sam shit for taking ice baths after his workouts. Now nothing sounds better than an ice bath.

Almost nothing, anyway. The only thing that could possibly feel even better is laying down behind a closed door less than twenty feet away.

And he'd offered - begged, actually, to take this pain away from you.

“Please,” he whispers, kneeling on the ground next to the couch, where you sit hunched over in pain. He's so close to you and it's fucking suffocating. He places his hand on your knee and you have to dig your nails into the suede upholstery to keep from whimpering. He notices the reaction and retracts his touch.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he says louder, the pet name finally getting you to meet his gaze for the first time since you dropped the glass jar of the firetruck red powder in the former HYDRA warehouse two hours ago.

Big mistake. Looking at him is a big fucking mistake. From the way his blue eyes bore into yours with sincere concern to the way that his plump, pink lips are slightly chapped from the cold weather -

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head into your hands. “I can't ask that of you. I can't make you do that. I would never forgive my–”

“You wouldn't be asking or making me do anything,” he tries to reason with you. There's sincerity in his voice but you're too delirius to hear the truth of his words. “I'm offering. Because I care about you. Because I don't want to see you in any kind of pain if there's anything I can do about it. Because I think you'd do the same for me if the situation were–”

“Bucky,” you cut him off in a strained gasp. “Your voice is making this so much worse right now.”

“Then let me help you. Let me make you feel good.”

His words alone are enough to have you clenching your thighs around nothing but the thick material of your sweatpants. You can feel your cotton panties becoming more drenched with each word he speaks.

“Not like this.” You're on the verge of tears - from pain, from anger at the entire situation, from how goddamn badly you need to feel him inside you. “It can't happen like this. I never wanted it to happen like this.”

His features soften, a look of understanding spreading across his face.

“When we fuck, I want it to be because we want to fuck,” you say as you jump up from your position on the couch, desperately needing to distance yourself from him before you do something you can't take back. “I don't want it to be because we feel like neither of us have a choice in the matter.”

“But we do have a choice,” he murmurs from where he's still kneeling on the floor next to the couch. “And I'd choose to go back to that HYDRA facility and infect myself with this shit, too, if it means you'd feel a little less guilty about saying yes.”

Your answer to that was, of course, a big, giant absolutely fucking not. The snow started pouring down shortly after, making his irrational proclamation an impossibility, anyway.

Almost half a day later, here you are. Surrounded by miles and miles of snow and ice in a town with no power or semi-functioning cell phone towers, just trying to endure the fire coursing through your veins until the effects of the HYDRA made drug have worked through your system.

You're coming up on the twelve hour mark now, and there's no denying that you're desperate for relief in one way or another.

Worth a fucking shot, you think.

You prop your feet up on the glass coffee table in front where you sit on the couch, spreading your thighs apart by a few inches.

You hesitate for a moment, listening for any kind of indication that Bucky's no longer in the confines of the cabin’s singular bedroom.

Dead silent, except for the crackling of the wood burning in the fireplace.

You snake your hand down the front of your pants, past the waistband of your underwear and to your center that's been aching for hours now.

You stroke your fingers up and down your folds, stopping at the apex of your core to massage your clit in circular motions.

Your head rolls back on the couch at the sensation, immediately feeling the slightest sense of relief. You dig your teeth into your lower lip to keep from moaning - hard enough to draw blood, the taste of iron flooding your mouth.

You slip two fingers past your entrance, not requiring any foreplay to plunge them to the hilt. It feels good - the way you're working yourself with rapid scissoring motions. Really fucking good, actually. Better than fingering yourself has ever felt.

But only a mere minute into the ministrations, you fear that it won't be enough to satiate you in the way that the drug requires.

Still, you try. You yank your t-shirt above your tits, bringing your free hand to paw at your breast as you continue working your pussy with your fingers, the heel of your palm putting pressure against your clit.

“That's not going to work, you know.”

You yank your hand out of your pants, snapping your head to the side to see him leaning against the frame of the small hallway. You had been so immersed in attempting to find some amount of relief that you hadn't heard him exit the bedroom. He's looking at you with sympathy and concern, not judgment - you don't think you'd be able to find it within yourself to feel embarrassed even if he were. Not in your current state of discomfort.

“How do you know that?” Frustration is evident in your voice. You look away from him, back to the fire in front of you as you pull your shirt back down. The floor creaks as he steps out of the hallway and makes his way over to the opposite end of the small couch. He sits a foot away from you, close enough so that his scent and warmth invades your senses, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core.

“Because I've been through what you're going through right now.”

Your eyes break away from the ember that you've been staring at, your gaze snapping to him. You don't know why this comes as a surprise to you. It shouldn't, not with every other form of torment that HYDRA had inflicted upon him for over half a century.

“Why didn't you tell me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I was embarrassed,” he answers with a small half-shrug, breaking your stare. “I didn't.. handle it as well as you are,” he continues, shame in his voice and cheeks rosy. “You’re doing everything you can to fight something that you didn't ask for. That's more than I can say for myself.”

“You were brainwashed, Bucky,” you remind him delicately. It's a risky move that makes your skin burn and belly clench, but you scoot closer to him on the couch - your outermost thigh brushing against his knee. If the two of you weren't both wearing sweatpants, the minimal touch might even aid in bringing you some relief. Instead, you’re left feeling desperate for more of him.

But you push the feeling down, wanting to do what little you can to comfort him - wanting him to know that you don't think poorly of him for what was forced onto him, and what is now being forced onto you, too.

“I would never judge you for anything they made you do,” you assure him.

“I know you wouldn't,” he murmurs, turning to face you again. His blue eyes glow in the low lighting of the fire. The closeness between the two of you is dizzying, and electrifying, and -

“And I want you to know that I would never judge you for giving into this torture,” he adds.

You snort a laugh. “I'm starting to think you want me to give into this.” You mean for the statement to sound light-hearted, but a sharp pang in your gut makes you wince in pain and your voice goes shrill. You clutch your lower belly, hunching over at the pain.

He leans in closer, putting one hand on your lower back and one on your thigh. You whimper at the pressure of his fingers against your spine and inner thigh. Even through your clothes, the contact feels like heaven compared to hell you've been enduring for the last twelve hours.

You lean into his touch - you don't even think about it, you just do it. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, your forehead nuzzling the warm skin of his throat.

You take a deep inhale, attempting to steady your breathing, and you realize quickly that is a mistake - his scent is so euphoric, it feels like inhaling flames.

“Would it make it easier for you if I said that I do want you to give in?” His voice is low, his breath fanning across your face from his position above you.

“Fuck, Bucky, you can't say that to me right now,” you whine. You fist your hands into the fabric of his t-shirt, your eyes squint shut.

“Look at me,” he commands. You force your eyes open, pulling your head back enough to look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I want it to be your choice.” He brings a hand up to cup your jawline. His thumb skims the outline of your bottom lip. “But I would be lying if I said that I'm not relieved that I'm the one here with you, or that I wouldn't enjoy every second of helping you feel better.”

He brings his hands to yours, pulling them away from where they still clutch his shirt. You release your grip, allowing him to hold you by your wrists. He pulls your right hand up to his face, stopping just under his nose. Your brows furrow in confusion, until it dawns on you what it is he's doing.

He inhales deeply, then lowers your hand to his parted mouth. He slips the tips of your index and middle fingers past his lips, and then swirls his tongue around the two digits.

The exact two that had been inside your pussy not even five minutes ago.

Right now, you think you could come from him sucking on your fingers and nothing else.

You don't even try to stop the groan that slips past your lips as you shove your fingers deeper into his mouth. He moans around them as he finishes cleaning them off, the sound sending vibrations up your arm and throughout your body.

You pull your fingers from between his lips and immediately crush your own lips to his in their place. You feel the drug surging through your veins, but this time it's less excruciating - it now feels like pure adrenaline bubbling under your skin, spurring you on.

He opens his mouth to you, your lips and tongue moving with his in synchronicity. It's hurried and messy, and maybe not as romantic as you had imagined it in your head before this night - but it's exactly what you need right now.

He maneuvers you so that you're laying down on the couch, and nestles himself between your thighs. You can feel the hard outline of his erection through the thin material of his sweatpants. He ruts against you, dragging the bulge across your clothed center as he yanks your t-shirt up and over your head. He tosses it somewhere behind the couch before attaching his mouth to one of your nipples and palming the other with the cool metal of his left hand.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling the full weight of his body down against you. You stick your hands up the back of his t-shirt, scratching your nails down the skin of his back.

“I need more,” you gasp out as he pinches your nipple between his teeth, rolling it in his lips. The clothing that separates the two of you feels like a prison. “I need to feel you.”

He pulls away, leaning back to perch on his knees between your legs. Your eyes roam down the chiseled planes of his chest until they land on the defined “V” shape that disappears into the waistband of his low-hanging pants.

He hooks his fingers into your sweatpants and underwear and tugging them both down past your ankles, then throwing them somewhere across the room with both of your long-forgotten shirts.

His eyes trail your body from your breasts to your thighs, his pupils dilating in the firelight. He splays his hands across the meat of your inner thighs, pinning your legs open wide for him. He lowers himself back down on the couch, belly down so his face hovers just above your pussy.

“Bucky, I swear if you don't put your mouth–”

He laughs, a deep, throaty chuckle before his tongue slips between his lips. It darts to your hole, licking a soft strip up to your clit. You exhale a sharp hiss of pleasure, your hands shooting to lace your fingers through tendrils of his hair. You arch into his touch, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with thrusts of your hips. He eats like you're the best thing he's ever tasted - like he's wanted this for way longer than this drug has been in your system.

You're coming on his face in an embarrassing amount of time, really. Thanks to the influence of the pollen, you currently have the stamina and endurance of a teenager losing their virginity. Your thighs are clenched around either side of his head, writhing above him as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

The relief that you feel as you come down from your high feels like years of pent up frustration leaving your body all at once.

You don't quite feel entirely like yourself - there's still a dull ache in your core, and your skin’s still feverish - though that could be due to the fire that the two of you are just feet away from. But you're now able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Come here,” you whisper, your voice low and honeyed. He crawls over you, his chest brushing against yours as he centers himself above you. His skin shines with a thin layer of sweat that mingles with your own. You reach a hand between your two bodies, palming his erection through the sweatpants that he has yet to shed. You keep your eyes locked on his face, watching as his eyes roll back into his head and his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as you massage him through the fabric. Your other hand juts down to the waistband of his pants and you tug them downwards, far enough to help him shimmy them down to his knees.

His cock springs forward and he takes himself in his flesh hand, pumping his length several times before teasing your folds with his tip. He collects your slick along his length, lubricating himself before nudging his head just past your entrance.

You're more than ready for him - hours of desperation in addition to already having come on his face leaves you needing no further preparation before he's filling you up with his impressive length and girth. There's a slight burn at the sheer fullness of it, but there's also a wave of relief that your body has been craving for hours.

He pulls out halfway, then rocks back into you. He starts slow - trying to hold back for his own sake or for yours, you're unsure. Gradually, he increases his speed, hitting your cervix at that sweet angle that not everyone knows how to work. You lean forward, raising your head enough to capture his lips in yours once more.

You taste yourself on him - a dichotomy of sweet and salty mixed with something entirely unique. He brings his flesh hand in between your bodies, lowering his fingers to your clit where he begins rubbing pressured circles. You moan his name into his mouth and he responds by biting your lip between his teeth, his movements becoming messier.

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks in a low growl when he feels your pussy clenching around him. “Gonna fill you up and make you feel all better.”

His words send you tumbling over the edge for the second time - that telltale warm coil in your belly bursting at the same time that he begins spilling his warmth into you.

He collapses, pinning you between his body and the couch beneath you. Starting at your shoulder, he peppers kisses along your collarbones and up your neck until he’s finally eye-level with you.

“We can do that again,” he says in a breathy voice, still inside you. “If you need to, that is. Or if you just want you.” There's a mischievous grin spread across his face and a twinkle in his eyes. It's the most carefree you've seen him since the two of you left New York to come here for this mission. You put your hands on his chest, jokingly attempting to shove him away from you.

“Oh, I don't think I need to,” you jab at him. “I'm feeling pretty great now, but thank you for your services.” He laughs, pulling out of you and sitting back against the couch. He pulls you up with him, wrapping his flesh arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. “But I think I might want to again. You know, now that I'm no longer in excruciating pain.” He hums in agreement, stroking his flesh fingers across the side of your stomach.

“I'm glad you were the one here with me too, Bucky."

thank you for reading! i know sooo many people have done this trope, especially for bucky, but it's truly one of my all time favorites and i just needed to get this out of my system so i hope you all enjoyed

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

other works by me: oil & water • down bad • acquainted •

[burningdevotion]

best way to warm up

Joel Miller x fem!reader

summary: after spending the day out in the cold, Joel wants nothing more than to get back home to his girl. once he has you in his arms, you both agree to retire back to bed, so you can replace the shivers of cold with shivers of pleasure

a/n: this was my first time writing a proper fic for him and I ended up really enjoying it! theres just something about old man!Jackson!Joel that’s so... yeah. this is filth with a bit of plot <3 - (ca. 6k words)

warnings: big age gap (reader in her 20s, Joel close to 60), oral and fingering (r!receiving), brief hand and blowjob, unprotected p in v, praise, multiple orgasms, coming inside, cum eating, pet names, one singular use of "daddy", bf!Joel who goes hard in a loving way

Joel would never get used to the snow.

it didn’t matter how long he’d already lived in Jackson, it went the same way every year, him taking the cold as a personal attack on his summer-loving soul, cursing under his breath whenever his teeth chattered and the tip of his nose and ears turned red from the biting winds.

that particular day it was no different. a blizzard had swept through town a few days before and had left some damage on a few houses, which of course made people turn to your lover when they were looking for someone to help them fix it all up.

Joel was the resident handy man, along with a few other guys, and he wasn´t too happy about it, especially not once he got older and had a pretty girl waiting at home who he´d rather give all his energy to, since waking up sore from tending to you was pleasant, whereas waking up sore from work... not so much.

you had to push him out of the door that morning while he regretted being that skilled at home renovations, to which you just said “come on, show them how strong you still are compared to all the men here who are half your age” which gave him just the right amount of pride and spite to go out there and be a dutiful neighbor while flexing his skills in front of guys who´d tried their luck with you before, smug whenever they struggled to lift as much as he did, thinking about the countless times he´d used his strength for your pleasure, shooting daggers at them whenever they dared to ask him about you.

while he was out being helpful, you spent your day gathering wood for your fireplace and stoked the flames until they were intense enough to make the house feel cozy again. you cooked a hearty soup and left it to simmer on the stove, so you could share a nice dinner later on, taking your time with it, picking all the right herbs. just as you got done cleaning the kitchen, you heard the front door slam shut, followed by Joel kicking off his boots anf letting out a few foul words that made you smile to yourself.

his grumpiness always amused you, his blatant inability to keep his grievances to himself, to put on a convincing poker face - which had gotten him in trouble more than once - because it held no threat of true aggression, Joel was not an angry man, at least not with you, never with you, not over his dead body - one touch, one word from you was always enough turn him into a man about as tender as they come.

you´d managed to soften his tired spirit like a rough stone that got smoothed down over time, just as tough as before, but less prickly, less irritable, more at peace, and he worshipped you for it, the patience that you´d shown him when he had felt so undeserving of it, after everything he´d done, all the pain he’d caused. you both gave each other the kind of solace you never dared to hope for, especially during the darkest nights of the year, savoring the evenings spent cocooned in a glow of love on the couch, clinging to each other while the outside world was covered in ice. 

he came into the kitchen looking all gruff and flushed and achingly handsome, snow melting in his graying hair and beard, dressed in those jeans that fit him just right and a white shirt with a flannel on top, an appreciative long glance from you over his figure that matched his as he spotted you and rushed over. “hey baby” you cooed, smiling at him, “hey there.” he said, still a bit irritated by the whole ordeal outside, but glad to be home at last. “you´re freezing hm?” you asked and beckoned him closer, so he pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you while uttering “like a damn icicle, darling” shivering a bit as he buried his face in your neck and breathed in your familiar scent, his heartbeat slowing immediately, a tight grip on you as he soaked up your heat.

you mirrored his gesture and held him close, rested your head against his shoulder, caressed him up and down his back which made him hum in approval. “poor thing, gotta get you warmed up. what do you need? some coffee, a bath? both maybe?”.

“you” he murmured against your skin, eliciting goosebumps. “right now, all I need is you”, the words barely audible as he started trailing feathery light kisses up your neck, your pulse point, your jaw, your cheek, making you sigh and shut your eyes, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt to hold onto something, a smile as he took the sign to continue and gave the sensitive spot below your ear little licks and kisses, lavishing you with affection.

you let out a faint moan as he did this, your arousal stirred not just by his lips but the way he smelled, so fresh and crisp from the ice-cold air, musky and sweet from his own natural scent, leathery and woody from his jacket and the fire smoke he´d been around, a mix that was so deeply addictive to you.

without warning, he gripped your sides and lifted you onto the countertop, so you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, as close as possible, hands on his neck, increasingly turned on, his own hands on your shoulders as he leaned in to whisper “thought of you the entire time I was out there, sweetheart…what I´d have done if I´d stayed in bed with you all mornin” his voice all low and husky as he said it, his breath tickling your ear, his thumbs kneading away the tension in your muscles.

“god..” was all you could respond, your voice all strained from the lust that was slowly spreading through you, pooling at your core, so he didn´t waste any time and leaned in, cupped your face and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, teasingly licking over your bottom lip before you opened your mouth and made him turn the kiss into something more perverse and charged, making out in a way that would´ve been highly inappropriate in public, his hips moving forward in a way that made you feel it: that he was already straining against his jeans. a strangled moan escaped you as his clothed groin pressed against yours, already wet and waiting for him.

in the middle of kissing you, he pushed his hands under your shirt and heard you gasp into his mouth as he cupped your tits, his large, cold palms right over the swell of your breasts, squeezing, feeling you up, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples to soothe them, circling motions that made you moan louder than you intended and lean back in a way that nearly made you knock a jar to the floor, which didn´t deter him, at all, still pressing against your sensitive area, groping you, as he used your position to his advantage and sucked on your exposed throat, heard those little whimpers that drove him wild every damn time.

eventually, you pulled back, out of breath, and sighed “want me to help you get hot all over, hm?”, staring into his eyes with a kind of desire that rivaled even the brightest fire while un-buttoning the top of his flannel, so he skipped the talking and only gave a gravely sound in response as he lifted you up, your legs already where he needed them, carrying you up the stairs, your arms wrapped around his neck, your lips ghosting over his cheek as he reveled in the feeling of being strong enough to carry you over the threshold bridal style, which gave him the brief fantasy of making you his wife, slipping a lacy gown off your frame, pulling garter belt down your leg with his teeth.

the moment he laid you down on the bed, he hurried with getting his shirt and undershirt off, his jeans too, unbuckling his belt in a way that made you want him even more. he needed, he craved the body-to body feel, and the vision of him right then was like a wolf who´d roamed through miles and miles of snow and finally found something to sink his teeth into: impatient, greedy, salivating at the thought.

you pulled your shirt off too as he was already crawling over to you and told you “good girl, now lift your hips for me”, so you obeyed and tossed your top to the floor and helped him shimmy down your jeans, which left you in nothing but thin cotton panties, which drove him wild when he saw the dampness at the center, a brief brush of his fingers over it that made you twitch before his eyes fell to your chest, which made him pounce on you.

within seconds he was palming your left tit as he put his mouth to the other, switching between sucking and licking motions that made you squirm and whimper under him, the tip of his tongue flicking over your nipple before he put it between his lips and suckled on you like he was trying to get milk, so eager, so hungry, so lost in your softness, his knee purposely pressed up between your thighs, creating friction at your core that left you soaked and desperate for more. with a wet popping sound he finally let go but didn´t give himself or you time to catch your breaths, instead pinning your arms to the side, gently but firmly, while placing his mouth between your tits, then your sternum, moving down all the way to your lower stomach while leaving a trail of wet kisses. once he reached the waistband of your panties he paused and left few love bites until he looked up to see you all undone from his impact already, confessing to you “god I can´t take it… you´re too beautiful baby… too soft and delicious… need you all over my mouth, right now”.

before you could say anything, he ripped down your panties and praised “hmm, yeah, nice and open for me” as you parted your legs wider for him so he could settle between them, his kissing from before continuing all the way up your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the tender skin here and there. Joel needed you to a point where he almost humped the mattress, his cock throbbing just from a bit of foreplay, the way it always did, matching the utter sensitivity on your part that made you sound like he was already fucking you, when he hadn´t even reached the apex of your thighs yet. 

before he could taste you, he reached up and played with your pussy a bit, rubbing your clit with his middle and ring finger in circles as he heard you whine so beautifully for him, your eyes cast down, propped up on your arms, so you could get a good look at the way he savored the feel and sight of your slick folds, your swollen clit, pussy-whipped already, rubbing you so softly that it almost felt more shameless and filthy than if he´d jerked you off with force.

when he felt you losing your composure even more and heard a sweet little “baby…” tumbling from your lips, urging him to get to it, he gave a light slap of his hand against your needy pussy that made you wince not from pain but the bolt of pleasure, a devilish smile shot in your direction before he finally wrapped his big arms around your thighs and pulled you down against his mouth, buried himself in you, groaned like an animal as your cunt enveloped his nose and mouth, drowned out all previous worries, left him feeling like he was the luckiest man on planet earth, never ever getting used to your velvety, salty juices that could sustain him through the harshest winter, bring him back to life each time he got a taste of you.

you fell back against the pillows and mewled as he started eating you out, lapped at your cunt in broad, self-indulgent strokes, diving between your folds like a man starved, your slick heat healing his previously frozen up skin as he moved his face up and down to gather up every last drop, drenched in your fluids within no time, the way he needed and wanted it, all the time, sometimes spending entire evenings between your legs like that.

Joel made out with your pussy while you moaned and rocked your hips up to chase his mouth, whining to him about how good it felt, so he pushed you further and slipped a finger into you, no resistance, your cunt greedily taking it in, pleasure noises flowing from between his glistening lips as he pulled back to watch it, “yes, yes.. more” you cried, so he quickly pushed in a second finer and curled them up just right to hit your sweet spot over and over, adding his tongue again once you sounded like you might finish soon, sucking on your clit hard enough to make you see stars as his big fingers pumped in and out of you, got you read for something bigger, your walls throbbing around his knuckles, your back arching up, as the first orgasm hit you like lightning and made you shake and cry out, fully drenching his fingers as you rode it out while he kept his lips firmly suctioned to your clit, his free arm holding you in place as he soaked up the feeling of having you come all over his tongue and hand. 

as you laid there all flushed and riled up, he put his fingers between his lips and licked your cum off while uttering “divine.. like honey…”, keeping eye-contact with you in a way that made you breathe even heavier than before. the sight of you splayed out for him like that, so gorgeous and dripping and clearly in need of more of his service, it made him adore you so fiercely and need you so badly that he frantically pulled down his boxers and tossed them to where your underwear was already crumpled on the floor, his hardness springing free in a way that made him take a sharp breath in and stroke himself as he came over to you and saw your eyes turn down to where he was touching himself, clearly turned on by how rock hard he was, pre-cum leaking out of his tip, his big strong thighs and hairy chest and broad shoulders only driving you even wilder in combination with that view, his stature looming over you in the most dizzying way. “been like this all afternoon…” he groaned  “just from thinkin of you”. 

before he could protest, you sat up, spat into your palm, and reached forward to replace his hand with yours, his head falling back as he felt your palm close around his length, rubbing up and down, slicking him up as an almost pained “ohhh hmppff fuck” escaped him while he gripped your arm for support, bucked up into your grip without thinking, groaned like an animal as you just smiled all sweet and and kept stroking him, savoring the feel of him in your hand like that, aroused and throbbing for you, whispering to him “need this cock in me, baby”.

“yeah? need it right now?” he moaned and felt you going a bit faster to really tease him, so he slipped his thumb into your mouth in retaliation, felt you suck on it, his eyes dark and half-lidded then as you jerked him off and licked all over his finger, until you let go of both at once and leaned back, nodding and saying “hmm yeah, need you deep inside me” emphasis on the “deep”, your eyes never leaving his as you spread your thighs wide enough for him to see your cunt spread open and pulsating for him, inviting him in, so he lunged forward and whispered “oh youre really asking for it now, darlin…” and pushed you back onto the pillows.

you let out a squeal as Joel roughly put you into the position he needed you in, hovering over you, and went on to slide his tip over your wetness, teasing, slapping his cock onto your cunt a few times to watch you turn weak and helpless again, until he guided himself to your entrance and let go of his cock, put his hands by the sides of your face, stared down into your eyes and then kissed your neck right as he pushed himself into you, slowly for the first inches, and then all the way, one swift push, balls deep, no holding back anymore, your pussy aching in relief the moment he bottomed out and had you nice and full again. 

your heat and wetness overwhelmed him as he felt it all, a broken-up “Christ..” as he let you adjust to his size and held your gaze, both of you staring into each other´s soul´s with parted lips, hitched breaths, that delicious moment whenever he first entered you, his palm reaching up to caress you, soothe you, as you matched his low, rumbling sounds with a higher-pitched moan, your pussy stretching around his girth in just the right way, his hardness buried deep inside of you, the ache at your core suddenly pleasurable instead of maddening, a burning need to have him deepen that ache until you couldn´t take anymore, which he sensed, so he moved his hands to grip yours and pin them against the mattress as he slowly started moving in you as the scruff of his beard tickled your neck just right, his moans and kisses covering the skin right above your shoulder as you wrapped your legs around his waist and trapped him in the best way.

you ran your nails down his spine and felt him give you the most dizzying slow, yet hard, deep strokes, so you could feel every single thrust in its entirety, a whimper with each one, throbbing around him as you whined “yes…yes”, so he lifted his head a bit and breathed against your cheek “hmm yeah? like that, baby?”, a weak “hmm” and nod from you in response as you felt him go in and out of you, your pussy relaxed and soaking wet by then, both of you whispering sweet nothings to each other as he picked up the pace, unable to keep his desire contained any longer, his hands leaving yours then so he could brace himself better as he fucked you the way he wanted, intense, hard, and yet so loving, radiating such adoration with each push of his hips, his groans turning louder and more pornographic by the second, a mix of “ohh” and “ughh” sounds rising out of his depths as he got lost in you, the way you looked right then, all flushed and and pretty in your lust-induced haze, head pushed back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut from that deep pleasure that was starting to possess every little inch of your body, his strokes steady and skilled, his lips suddenly on yours so he could drink up all of your moans and whimpers, kissing you softly as he fucked you intensely, a contrast that drove you wild as you gripped his big arms and held on. 

you loved that he was big but not to a point where it hurt, his cock just girthy enough for you to have to adjust to it a bit at first every time, a mild kind of pain that was more thrilling than punishing, a perfect size and feel for you, the flesh of his length still slightly soft even when he was hard, ideal to a point where you became obsessed with it, sometimes having him fuck you on the couch in the middle of the day, just to feel him for a few minutes, or riding him on a chair in the kitchen, or if things got really heated making him take you inside other people´s bathrooms, one time even fully out in public, at night, too eager for him to fuck you to wait til you were home. Joel loved it. every time. how eager you were for him, the delicious build-up to it, the way you always made him feel like the most virile, desirable man who ever lived just by batting your eyelashes at him and nudging his leg to say “come here, take me, please.”

right then it was no different as he was fucking you into the mattress with determination until he lifted himself up onto his knees and quickly pushed your leg up into an angle that allowed him to really rail the fuck out of you, your back arching up as went as deep as possible then, fast and hard without ever neglecting your comfort, your need, your level of arousal, keeping a close eye on your body, the little tells that gave away how good it felt for you as he kept going and going, praising you, watching you twist your head to the side and bite your lip, groaning “goddd this pussys gonna ruin me one day… feel too fuckin good around me, baby...” and right then he hit the exact right spot, so you whimpered pathetically and stared up at him while moaning  “fuck right there, yes” your insides twisted in pleasure, threatening to burst within the next few minutes.

“yeah? right here? this the spot, sugar?” he asked, not actually needing an answer, only saying it to turn you on even more as he kept the exact pace he was going at and hit you deep inside, over and over, your muscles coiled tight, lewd wet sounds echoing through the room, his body looking all godly and manly like that, taking you as if he wasn´t pushing sixty at all, an ease and power to his movements that made you lose your mind completely.

just as you were bracing yourself for your impending climax, Joel reached down and added his thumb to the mix and oh. you were done for. the way he circled your clit right then.. the way he rubbed over your sensitive bundle of nerves.. it made you choke up for a second. “ohhh fuck baby, oh” you cried out, begging for mercy as he kept fucking and touching you just the right way, admiring the sight of you all sexy and primal in that state of pre-release, drunk on the power to please you that way.

“there you go.. look at you.. gorgeous girl..” he cooed as you begged “don´t stop, just like that, fuck”, so he assured you “shhh, you´re doin so well, takin me so damn well, baby” sweating by then, his scent only messing with you even more, that animalistic, intimate smell of his that always ruined you, Joel rutting into you with the need to see you lose yourself, which you were about to, your pussy leaking all over his cock as you moaned “I´m coming, I´m-” your words silenced by the orgasm that started to hit you, your whole body tensed up, your voice drowned out, right at the peak then, so he leaned forward during his relentless fucking and groaned “I´ve got you, I´ve got you baby girl, just let go for me”, and with that you did, unclenching every muscle at once, suddenly flooded by pleasure, crying out and shaking as he held you in place by your hips, caressed your sides, and slowed down bit by bit, let you ride it out, while uttering “hmm, good girl, such a good girl…”.

as you laid there catching your breath and twitching, he slowly moved his cock out and stroked it in a way that kept him riled up enough to keep going without coming too fast. he wanted to hold out, desperately, he needed more of you, and the second you had enough strength again, you moved your trembling body over to him, kneeled on the bed, and leaned down to lick his tip for him, nudging his hand away and replacing it with your own as you drooled all over his length and licked up the side of the shaft back up to the top, circled his tip, tasted yourself on him, and finally took him into your mouth, not all the way, but enough to make him moan “oh.. youre killin me” while he caressed your hair and watching in awe as you greedily sucked him off. he couldnt help but grunt and buck up a bit, trying his best not to choke or gag you, but so damn sensitive to your pretty mouth wrapped around him like that, a pained “goddammit” leaving him as you sucked his dick until he couldn´t take any more. before he could cum in your mouth, he peeled you off and grabbed you to get you where he wanted you, panting, desperate, hard as a rock.

Joel gave your leg a loving squeeze and told you “come here baby, come lay on your side for me, nice and comfortable, right here” maneuvering you into the position he was aiming for as he laid down behind you and watched you lift your own leg up, knowing what he wanted to do to you. “that´s it, perfect” he whispered as his arm slipped under your side and wrapped around your front, over your tits, to hold you flush against his chest, so strong and warm and comforting as he did it, his face right by your neck, a soft kiss as he settled in his big spoon position and groaned from the desire to dive back into your heat already. 

you needed it too, badly, your pussy twitching around the emptiness, so you moved your free hand down to guide his cock back into yourself, both him and you watching your lower half as he slipped right back in, both of you so sensitive and raw by then that he shuddered as you swallowed him up again while you let out a faint “ohh… oh” and pressed yourself back up against him to feel his entire body pressed against yours, your eyes shut as he kept his arm wrapped around your front and kissed your shoulder, your neck, groaned and bit down lightly as he picked up a pace and started fucking you from the side, possessive and protective at the same time the way he thrust himself into you with increasing passion while holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, which to him, you were, always and forever.

the sensation of being filled over and over from that lazy angle did something to you, made you surrender and lay in his arms all docile and sweet, which got him good: the way you trusted him, moaned for him, let him take you like that, so he fucked you a bit faster and rougher while peppering gentle kisses over the slope of your shoulder, slapping sounds filling the room as he kept going, his cock nice and deep inside you, so good that you were overcome by love and twisted your head back a bit to chase his lips and kiss him, your tongue in his mouth as you struggled to kiss him properly but tried your best amidst the frenzied fucking, his heart beating faster not just from the way you felt on him but the adoration he saw mirrored in your eyes as you briefly looked at him, all dazed and fucked out, so perfect, so angelic for him, his girl, all his, another deep, sloppy kiss from him as you whimpered to him about how good his cock felt, his own affection for you ruining him then as he whispered “this pussy was made to be worshipped by me, this body, all of it” which got you good, clenching around him so hard that he groaned “oh god hmmm” and tightened his grip on you, slamming into you as you submitted to it and got fucked into a blissful oblivion while he was right behind you, steading you, warming you, the neighbors down the street probably well aware of what was going on by then, your cries too loud to be drowned out by wooden walls, which made you feel even more aroused: that smug feeling of spending the afternoon getting your brains fucked out instead of doing anything to prove how dutiful you were, sinfully self-induldent in the best way. 

the softness of the cuddle-fucking somehow got you wet to a degree that was so intense that each thrust made a squelching sound, filthy and nasty and just how he loved it, his finger back on your clit as he briefly slowed down and moaned “fuckkk gonna make me cum baby” less intense strokes then, a brief pause to draw the sex out longer, he refused to cum, needed a few more minutes, so you gave in and savored the sensual, romantic feel of having his cock slide in and out your mess without much force, which held its own intense pleasure, an ease to it that turned you on, made you push your ass back against him and whine “ohhh… oh yes please” so he kept going like that for a while as you made out in a way you couldn´t before, catching your breaths a bit until the went faster again and braced himself for his orgasm, but before he could finish like that, you had the urge to change positions once more to really get fucked hard for your next orgasm.

you mumbled “baby I need-” and trailed off as you freed yourself from his grip and pushed him onto his back to get up and straddle him, your cunt slipping over his thigh for a moment, a grinding motion as he held his length and nodded “yeah darlin, take just what you need, drench my lap, lemme see”, a few more desperate rocking motions of your hips against the muscle of his leg, leaving a glistening trail of your cum once you got up and aligned yourself with him and sat down on it, sighing in relief once you felt him all the way in again and started riding him. you were too weak to really bounce on it, to give him the whole fantasy, but frantic and needy enough to give him a perfect view of your tits bouncing as you slid up and down his cock and saw him lean back against the heaboard, watching in awe, his hands on your sides as he supported and guided you, eager to tease another high out of you before his own would leave him wrecked for good, marveling at you on top of him looking like a goddess.

after a moment, he ordered “come down here” and made you lay chest to chest, wrapped both of his strong arms around your back, and held onto you tightly as he said “just relax for me now baby, okay?”, so you braced yourself, aware of what he was gonna do, and muffled your cries against his shoulder as he slammed up into you from below, over and over and over, truly ruining you, giving you a final round of achingly deep, aggressive thrusts that left you helpless on him - you didn´t have to do a single thing but take it all and stop resisting the overwhelming feeling that was about to unravel you, body and soul. you held on for dear life as he moaned that he was getting close, so you begged “come in me, please baby, please”, so he groaned “yeah? want me to fill you up?”, which made you insist “yes daddy… please”.

the word slipped out. it wasn´t on purpose. and that was what killed him. the innocent, fully instinctual way you uttered it, the word "daddy" going right to his head and heart and groin all at once as he grunted “jesus baby.. gonna make you mine now, gonna fill you all the way up”, his movements stopping all at once as he kept himself all the way inside you after last thrust and released his cum, shaking and twitching as he felt himself leaking and heard you moan in relief as you came right at the same time from the heavenly warm sensation of having him claim you that way, a decent amount of his juices splurting out until he was empty and shuddered one last time before he went as slack as you were by then, his arms still around you, keeping you safe, always.

for a moment, you just laid there like that, inseparable, entwined, panting and sweating, lost in the haze of your shared orgasm, until you peeled yourself off and flopped down on your belly on the empty side of the bed.

Joel moved and told you “lift that pretty peach a bit for me, baby” so you smiled against the pillow and did as he said, arching your butt up a bit as you felt him press a few kisses against your backside before he leaned in and did something that almost made you black out during your intense afterglow: he lapped up his own cum where it was leaking out of you and gently ate you out from the back.

another man might’ve just gotten a towel but not him. Joel wanted to make sure that he was cleaning up the mess he´d made of you, while also using the excuse to spread your cheeks open and lick all the way from your puffy lips to right below your hole, teasing you, feeling you wiggle a bit in response. Joel was a tits man the same way he was an ass man, so he shamelessly ate you up and kissed the plump flesh as you laid there on your stomach, blissed out, enjoying your man´s lack of shame when it came to his desires - whenever he came on you or in you, it was an excuse for him to keep going for a little bit longer: if he came on your tits it was an excuse to suck on them again, if he came in your mouth it made him tongue kiss you again, if he came inside of you it was a way to make himself get a final taste of you. eventually, his primal energy left him and made him slump down next to you, your pussy nice and soothed by his soft tongue after all the fucking before.

you both laid there, spent, satisfied, quiet, his hand resting on your thigh, leaving you some space to calm down as he did the same, until you turned over and snuggled up to him, your head on his chest, his arm around your back again, a dazed smile on Joels face as you nuzzled up to him like that and asked “you all warm again now?”.

“hmm, you know just how to get me hot and bothered.. my pretty lil sunshine” he whispered and pulled your hand up to kiss each of your knuckles, adoration radiation from him in a way that almost made you shed a few tears when he briefly pressed your fingers against his cheek after that tender gesture, his eyes closed, a shuddering breath out that told you his level of comfort and happiness matched yours.

“needed this so bad...might´ve died without it, I swear” he mused and gazed down at you while he caressed you, traced your side, marveled at how silky smooth you were, drawing idle patterns right above your hip .“dont know how I survived the winters before you” he admitted, both to you and himself.

you turned your head to look up and smiled at him, “you wish you could keep me in here and just hibernate through the winter, don´t you, old man?”.

“excuse me, ma´am?” he asked, exaggerating his shock for effect, giving you a playful squeeze in response. “oh, I´ll show you old, you´re in for it next time, little lady, just you wait.”. 

“oh no, how will I manage?” you exclaimed, clearly not scared but very pleased by that threat, a barely suppressed smile on his face as you draped your leg over his and laid on him all boneless and smiley. 

it was a game you two liked to play: you making a remark about his advanced age, compared to yours, so he could willingly walk into that trap and prove himself to you, which always got you what you wanted, for example, one time when you made a comment about his knees being too weak when he got down in front of your chair after breakfast to give you head, which ended in him keeping you pinned to that chair until you´d come three times and had drenched his whole mouth, begging for him to go easy on you by the end, which had made him pull his head away, wipe his mouth all smug like “yeah, I think my knees work just fine, thanks for the concern though, baby”.

“such a tease” he said then, as he splayed his palm over your lower back and felt the heat there. “only for you” you murmured against his stomach, almost dozing off for a second there. “hmm damn right, all mine.. all mine..” he whispered in awe as he watched you, felt your weight on his body, thanked whichever version of God he was still capable of believing in that you´d been sent his way, that he got to have you like that, all to himself, throughout the harshest winters he´d ever known, his own personal sun, his source of light, his everything.

after ten more minutes of peaceful silence, he said “I´ll take that bath now, I think. only if you join, that is”. you got up and sat on the bed, caressed his arm and said “if you´re gonna wash my hair for me, then yes” giving him doe-eyes and rubbing his shoulder, which made him laugh “always, anything you need, princess. five more minutes though”. the last part was mumbled as he pulled you in, so you could sit on his legs and rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“ten.” you countered. “deal..” he whispered and rested his chin on your shoulder, eyes closed, relaxed, content, both of you melting into each other.

by that point it had started snowing again but you were blissfully unaware, not a care in the world about how cold it would be in the coming days or weeks or months until it would finally turn milder again, since you knew: we´ll keep each other warm. we´ll always come home to this. this endless source of life-affirming heat.

[midgarangel]

ꗃ snowed in | arthur morgan ⭐️

summary: arthur finds you out all alone without your horse in the middle of the grizzlies during a bad snow storm.

contents: nsfw! arthur morgan x fem reader, good honor arthur, pre tb, both of them are the definition of touch starved, penetration, reader squ**ts?? hell yeah.

words: 3.5k (?) i have no clue

—

Up in Mount Hagen west of the grizzlies, the fire was going while he set the tent up. It hadn’t snowed in days thankfully. Arthur could tell it would in the morning just by how the temperature dropped severely throughout the night.

“You’re alright..”

His beloved horse Boadicea, shook off the chill in the air and neighed. Arthur got some sleep as best as he could, deciding to wait till dawn to set off.

—

Tracking a bounty all the way up here might not have been the smartest idea. Some lowlife criminal with a fine price on his head, wanted dead or alive. Arthur hoped he would stumble upon the man frozen while out riding. Instead he was met with endless amounts of snow ahead of him.

He couldn’t even get a cup of decent coffee going, day was already off to a bad start. It was now around eleven a.m based off the pocket watch he kept in his satchel. Boadicea kept trekking as best as she could.

Arthur loved to get away from camp whenever he could. None of Dutch’s nonsense, no Micah, no nothing. Only now he wished he could turn around and see greenery and meadows instead of pure white.

Boadicea snorted, the snow seemed to be falling heavier. Arthur couldn’t see ahead of him and it seemed like a blizzard was approaching.

“Just a little more girl cmon..”

The wind roared far out as they continued. The path below them was still visible. Yet, deep in the grizzlies now it was no use going back. He fed Boadicea a carrot hoping her stamina would improve.

Best to keep going, he thought. No way I’m gon make it out of the range till it calms down.

With the storm calming down a bit, Arthur took note of his surroundings. Near the now frozen lake, lake isabella. The trail that adorned the body of water had footprints that looked fresh. Footprints that belonged to someone smaller than Him. His suspicions were about to be confirmed.

He heard sniffing and shuffling up ahead. Rounding the corner he laid eyes on you. On tbe ground picking up the contents that were on e in your basket. Your outwear covered in snow. The basket you were carrying blown across from you, and your crops on the ground.

“Er, you alright there?” He asked cautiously.

You turned around frazzled.

“Who’s there?”

Arthur threw his hands up in defense coming into view, not wanting to scare you.

“Woah there it’s okay ma’am I don’t mean you no harm.”

You nodded. He seemed harmless, you were hoping he kept his word.

“Well it makes no difference now…if the snow doesn’t let up, nothing will grow for the rest of the month.”

“If an outlaw or wild animal doesn’t get me then starvation will.” You continued defeated.

He watched you dust off the snow from your shoulders. Noticing you didn’t have a horse.

“You walked out here all alone?”

Shaking your head yes, you explained to him that you left your horse home knowing how harsh the weather would be.

“She’s too old to be out here in weather like this…thought I could make it before it got real bad.”

Arthur thought that was a stupid idea, you could tell from his face. He felt sorry for you.

“Is your home nearby? I could take you there.” He pointed to Boadicea.

You eyed him wearily. A handsome stranger in the middle of a snowstorm offering to take you home? Too good to be true. He had to be trouble, but something about him seemed honest. His blue green eyes sparkling in contrast to the white all around you two.

“Yes..just a couple of miles. Near the frozen waterfall.”

You watched the gears turn in his head. He was glad he found you before you had froze to death.

“Well, ill erm,” He gathered up his supplies making sure Boadicea was ready to go. Offering a stretched out arm to you.

“Cmon, I gotcha.”

On the way to your tiny cabin of a house you attempted to make small talk. It was a ways to go, a few more turns down the trail.

“So, why’re you out here?” You asked, hands on his lower back hanging on.

“Bounty huntin.”

You took a mental note of that. If he had any plans of robbing you once you got home you were done for. Yet you found humor in this predicament.

“Sure I can trust you?” You chuckled.

“Not a bounty are you?” He rebutted.

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, halfway through the ride.

“Your horse is beautiful..reminds me of mine when she was younger.”

Arthur smiled, you couldn’t see though.

“My pride and joy. Don’t know what i’d do without her, how long have you had yours?” He asked.

Looking back on the time you first got her it seemed like a lifetime ago. Your Dad made one of his wishes come true before he died, bringing her home from an auction. She was just a foal when you were twelve.

Now twenty eight, Olive got sick last year. You vowed to take care of her as best as you could. Even if that meant coming out in a snowstorm as bad as this one in search of herbs for her.

“Sixteen years and counting I hope.” You said.

“She’ll pull through, long as she’s got ya.” Arthur meant that. You sounded sincere, he respected that.

“I’m right here.” You pointed to the brown wooden cabin hidden by flower bushes. Your house was in front of the waterfall you mentioned earlier.

Arthur got off Boadicea first to help you get down. He rounded the corner to help you. The steadiness of his grip, the way his other hand comes to your waist when your legs wobble slightly upon landing, had you besotted. You were grateful for his touch, even if it burned.

A bone chilling wind came through ruining your moment, almost blowing you away. You stumbled a bit, Arthur grabbed your wrist before you could fall.

“Careful there.” He said smirking under his hat.

“Thanks.”

Gathering yourself, you wondered where he’d be off to now. One side of your brain saying to invite him in, the other saying give him a couple of dollars and send him on his way.

You hadn’t had company in god knows how long. Living out here in the mountains wasn’t for the weak, you considered yourself strong. Especially after your parents passing. It’d be nice to hear someone else’s voice for a while over some tea and bread.

“Hey um, wanna come in for a bit? Just till the snow-”

“Oh ma’am it’s alright you don’t-”

“No no I insist, I only have a few dollars, it’s the least I could do to make up for it.”

“Unless you have somewhere to be.” You added.

Arthur hesitated. He didn’t have anywhere to be. He was probably gonna go back to camp once the storm was over, the last place he’d want to be these days.

“Well, as soon as it stops i’ll be out your hair.”

“Come on in.”

—

Arthur sat at your small dining table taking in your home. Kitchen full of spices, teacups on the shelves, flour on the apron hanging up by your counter. Honing in on the fireplace across from your bed, it was a small space but you made it look big and full of life. Out the window he noticed a small barn behind the house. That must be where Olive is he thought.

“Here’s some fresh bread, made it this morning.”

You set the plate down in front of him. His mouth watering at the sight.

“Want some honey and butter?” You asked while rummaging through your cabinets, back turned to him.

“I’d love some.”

You smiled warmly at him grabbing the honey and butter.

“Hope you haven’t been eating just plain ol bread all the time, where’s the fun in that?”

Guilty.

“Can’t really fit that kinda stuff out here, gotta make room for my coffee.”

You shook your head.

“Foods more important but I understand. My Dad was a coffee drinker, traded anything for a good batch.”

“He’s a good man.” Arthur said as he took a bite of his bread.

“Before he passed he told me where his secret stash was.” You laughed.

Arthur chuckled lightly.

“You can have it if you want. I should’ve offered you that before I asked you to come in.”

“I’m happy you decided to come in though.” You added.

He nodded in agreement. He could tell you meant that.

“This is a nice space you got here. It’s remote, but you can survive here alright. Can do without the snow though.” He said looking around.

“Why thank you. That means a lot. You’ve probably lived your whole life outdoors.”

“A lot of it, that’s for sure.”

“I barely left the city before coming here ya know. People always talk about the simplicity of country life but it can be hard at times.” You said.

“I guess we only know what we know, city life sounds awful.”

“Oh it is. A truly empty and boring existence…but an undeniably easy one.”

“I bet.”

“So what about you? Where are you from?” You inquired.

As the sun sets with no signs of the snow stopping, you settle in for a evening full of stories of Arthurs escapades and card games. Getting to know a bit about the people he calls family.

He tells you about Dutch and Hosea, how much they mean to him. He mentions a man by the name of John who he sees as a brother. He also tells you about Tilly, who he saved a few weeks ago from some bad people. Then he mentions Charles, the man who taught him how to use a bow properly.

“You know... I had a son once. Years ago. I don't talk about him much.”

He didn’t usually open up to people like this. He’d only known you for a few hours yet somehow you now knew little parts of his story.

“Good kid.” Arthur took a sip of his bourbon then handed the bottle to you.

You took a sip. The warm amber liquor burning as it went down. Finding solace in the fact that you guys shared similar experiences.

“I’m so sorry Arthur.” You passed it back to him.

“S-all good. I’ve made peace with it. Miss em like hell though.”

Another instance of comfortable silence settled. The fire crackled in front of you two, warm enough to forget about the cold outside.

“How about that Horse?” Arthur nudged his head towards the window.

“You wanna meet her? We can keep Boadicea in the barn for the night too.” You said giddily.

Arthur took in the excitement from your face. You had a pretty smile.

“I have some medicine in my satchel. Happy to share. Just gotta lead me to er.”

“You’re a good man.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I know enough. Theres always more to find in ourselves…you helped me to see that.”

“Reckon you’ll be just fine.” He said getting up.

When you get outside the air is a lot calmer with the snow up to your ankles. Arthur offers his arm for you to hold on to as you walk to the barn.

“She’s in here.”

You open the door slowly. Revealing a frail mahogany horse with white spots. She stands slowly after hearing you approach.

“Heyyyy there girl. Sorry I’ve been gone for a while.” Olive neighs in response, receiving the pats you give her.

“She’s a stunner.” Arthur says as he watches you with her.

“Should’ve seen Ol when she was in her prime. I love her even more now though.” You say cooing at her.

“Stallions bring out the best in people.”

Arthur takes the medicine out of his satchel, walking up to her. It’s late night and the orange glow from the barn lights makes him look impeccable. He gently coaxes Olive into taking the medicine, looking totally in his element.

“You’re so gentle with her.”

Arthur smiles at that comment.

It makes you dizzy. Spending the entire day with him was amazing though it went by so fast. The last time you “talked” with someone was at your local butcher about meat prices. Arthur had saved you from getting hypothermia, ate your bread, provided stories, and now he’s helping your horse. Maybe it was the two sips of bourbon but before you could stop yourself-

“Would you be that gentle with me?” You say suddenly with want on your face.

Arthur glances at you and chuckles. He’s been thinking about how your hair looks so soft and how your freckles show up the most when you smile. He can’t forget about how warm your personality is, or your hospitality. That’s all enough for him to entertain you.

“Did I hear you right?” He asks, still tending to her.

You wait with bated breath turning your head to the side in anticipation.

“There you go girl..” Making sure she’s alright, he turns to you walking closer.

He places his hand on your face smoothing his thumb over your cheek. You lean into his touch.

“Only if you’ll have me. And if you want me to be gentle.”

You nod slowly in the palm of his hand, pulling yourself closer into him. Your noses rub together hesitant in wanting to kiss. He takes your chin in between his fingers.

“It’s been so long…”

“Y‘need this as much as I do. Hm?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered in his ear.

“Badly.” Was all that you said.

He took a deep inhale, inhaling your scent.

“I…It’s been a while darlin.”

Your chest ached at the rawness in his voice. You cupped his jaw and pulled him back enough to see his face—eyes needy yet earnest.

"You’re here now," You murmured. "I’ve got you."

That was all the permission he needed.

When his lips finally touch yours, he kisses you, really kisses you, it’s slow, and deliberate at first, like he’s aware of how delicate this moment is. His breath hitches, just barely, but you feel it in the way his hands dig into your clothed hips, dragging you flush against him, no space, no air, just him. He kissed you like a drowning man who just then realized where you two stood.

“Wait a sec. Gotta do this properly.” Arthur said still holding you.

You look confused at first, then you understood. You both couldn’t do this in the barn.

“Such a gentleman.” You laughed, the both of you making your way back inside the house.

So as fate wanted, your bed creaked at the force from Arthur sitting down. Straddling him now, your knees press into the cushion, chest light against his, the steady rise and fall of his breath meeting yours. He marveled at your beauty silently before kissing you again.

The second kiss is different. Sloppier. Needier. His tongue pushes past your lips, dragging deep and wet into your mouth like he’s starving for it, like he needs to savor the heat of you just once before he lets you leave the house. He licks into you slowly, unhurried, groaning softly as he swallows your breath like it’s something sweet on his tongue. You gasped, grinding your hips against the hard length straining in his pants.

“Arthur…” you moan, rubbing your thinly covered core against his rough jeans.

“This darn skirt. Getting in the way of things.”

Helping both of you strip down, clumsily giving up on his own clothes since he was more focused on you. You pressed kisses anywhere you could reach in between.

He dropped to his knees between your thighs on the bed, hands gripping them like he needed to hold on. He wanted to feel every inch of you.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, mouthing at your skin, leaving messy, open-mouthed kisses all over your hips, your stomach, your chest.

"Been dying to taste you," he admitted shamelessly. Breath hot against your core.

“Can I?”

You nodded, and he dove in, tongue lapping at you smoothly, savoring you. Hearing your light airy moans egged him on. He was trying to memorize every inch of you all at once. You felt like a small animal with a predator’s teeth on her neck with the way he looks at you.

"Could stay right here forever.”

His rough hands reached the curls of your most intimate part, running his fingers there as if he were petting it while you watched in amazement. He was a real man.

You whimpered, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply out of embarrassment or something softer. Imagining what it would be like if he did stay here forever.

“So goddamn pretty.” He groaned into you, couldn’t help himself. You gasped.

“Your clothes..wanna see you.”

Arthur lets out a soft chuckle as he straightens up. You watched him undress while you lay on the bed. He could tell how much it was for you, all naked while he was still clothed, the spontaneity of it all. No blankets covering you yet. You felt shy but you were too lustful to show it.

His front and back were rippled with meat and muscle, the type of figure one can only attain through constant hard work and running. His skin littered with scars in different shapes and textures, some fully healed and others jagged. You've never seen a man quite like him. You wanted to ask him about each scar.

“Come here..” You beckoned him. He crawled up your body, his dick rubbing slick and heavy against your thigh. The both of you were drunk off of each-other at this point.

“Still want me to be gentle?” He asked while kissing your neck.

“Do whatever you want.” You moaned when his tip softly went in. Your breath hitched, feeling finally full in who knows how long.

He pushed himself completely in you, noticing your eyes roll back momentarily. Cunt split open and stuffed, you adjusted to his size.

“You don’t even know what you’re askin’ for,” he says quietly, like it’s just between the two of you and always will be. “But I’ll give it to you anyway.”

Your mind was a daze, you just wanted to feel him all around you. Completely enveloping you, all your senses locked on Arthur.

“So good," he choked out. "You can take it darlin.”

He kisses you. Filthy. Deep. His tongue pushes into your mouth before you can breathe, and you melt into it, whining into the hot slide of it as his hands roam low, gripping your ass like he’s already imagining how it’ll feel when you switch positions.

You repeated what he said in a daze. “I can take it…” Wrapping your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts, each one a little more tantalizing than the last.

He gently takes your legs and puts them up so you could wrap them around his torso. You melted deeper into his body, submissive flares. You weren’t even aware of him moving your hair out of your face. You bit your lip at the gesture

“Jus’need to see you sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The new nickname had your heart jumping. So happy that you had moved up from being called “ma’am” to “darlin” to now sweetheart. If he stayed he’d come up with even more names.

Suddenly he flipped the two of you over so he’s behind you, shutting you up with another kiss before you can protest. It’s slower and heavier like he’s savoring your desperation.

Legs spreading automatically to make room for him, you look up and bat your eyelashes. The room smells like want. The sweet aroma of honey, wood, sweat and sex. You’re glistening, shimmering under the dim lighting of the cabin. Leaking warmth like a prayer meant only for him.

His growl rumbles up from deep in his chest, a sound that vibrates through the bed beneath you and takes root in your spine. There’s nothing gentle in the way he moves.

Your thighs tremble and a choked, broken moan punches free of your lungs before you even realize it’s coming. Your hand flies to your mouth instinctively, fingers splayed across your lips like you can hold in what he’s tearing out of you. Arthur doesn’t stop.

“Let me hear ya.” He rasps, eyes locked between your legs like they’re tracking the center of the universe. Your hands grip the sheets, as you fuck him back. Begging him without words but with whimpers to never stop.

He groans against you, deep and wrecked, and the vibrations pulse through your cunt like an aftershock. Pounding into you at this rate, your mind goes blank at one point, he’s relentless. He taps your hip with the back of his hand and looks at you like you’re God.

“Not yet sweetheart. Gonna ride me,” he pants, dragging the words out low and rough as you crawl on his lap. Breath hitching as your thighs spread over his, the air between your bodies sharp and electric. Your cunt drags over his shaft, slick and hot. The sound that leaves his throat is pure hunger as he grabs himself in one hand, smearing your arousal down his length. Dragging the head through your folds with purpose, watching your face twist with need.

“Don’t run,” he breathes, his voice barely more than a growl, forehead pressed to yours. “Be good.”

And you are good.

You lower yourself inch by devastating inch, the stretch slow and punishing, your body fighting to take him as your nails dig into his shoulders, your breath coming out in little gasps that sound more like worship. You feel your walls part around him for the third time tonight. Feeling every ridge, every vein, every delicious ache as you sink down and bottom out.

He hisses, biting at your throat. Arthurs hands clenching around your waist like he’s anchoring himself in place.

“Look at you. Fuckin’ perfect.”

You moan into his mouth when he kisses you again, sloppier now. More tongue than lips. And then you move rolling your hips, building the rhythm that will destroy you. Every bounce draws a new groan from his throat, every grind makes your clit drag against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, sending jolts of pleasure through your spine. Your thighs burn but you couldn’t care less.

The bed rocks with the momentum, each thrust pushing the air from your lungs, each slap of skin against skin driving you closer to the edge. His hands find your ass, pulling you down harder, making you take him, and when you whimper, he chuckles dark and low against your throat.

“Yeah, darlin. That’s it. You hear that?” he grunts, pressing his palm to your lower belly, feeling the bulge where he’s buried so deep inside. “That’s me right there.”

You practically wail out, your high and aching body pulsing around him as your thighs tremble from the stretch. The slick of your cunt dripping down him. The musky sound of your bodies slapping together filling every inch of the cabin like heat pressed into fogged glass. Was it even snowing anymore?

Arms wrapped tight around his neck, your face buried against his temple, your fingers tangled in his hair like you’re trying to fuse your body to his. You can feel him panting against your collarbone, open-mouthed and desperate, like he’s biting back something loud, something animal, something barely tamed.

“Christ,” Arthur breathes against your skin, the sound more of a broken moan than a word. His voice wet and trembling. His teeth find your neck again, grazing the sensitive curve where shoulder meets throat, biting down just enough to make your pussy clench around him in response, and he feels it.

He groans against you, lips dragging along the line of your jaw as he grinds you down harder, deeper, every upward thrust punching the air from your lungs.

You’re babbling now, nothing coherent, not even words, just gasps and little broken sobs of pleasure, your hips moving on instinct, chasing something bright and unbearable as his dick grinds right into that perfect, dizzying spot inside you.

“That’s it, ride it out, sweet girl. You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you cry like that.”

The pressure mounts, unbearable. You can’t even fight it anymore. The pleasure barrels through you like a lightning strike, brutal, hot, and fast. You throw your head back as you moan deeply. Completely wrecked and shaking. Your thighs lock around him as your cunt spasms violently, clenching down on his dick like it’s trying to keep him.

And then wetness. Heat. Everywhere.

It’s not just an orgasm. It’s something more. Something primal. You squirt around him, the gush soaking his thighs and the sheets below you. The sound obscene as your slick pours out uncontrollably, drenching his lap as you collapse against him with a sob.

Arthur growls, so loud and feral it rips through the cabin like thunder. He slams into you one final time, cock pulsing deep inside your fluttering heat as he comes, thick, hot, and endless!groaning your name into your shoulder as his body trembles beneath you. He doesn't pull out. Doesn’t even try. Just stays buried to the hilt.

He wants to keep you twitching, leaking, falling apart on top of him until you forget what it feels like to breathe without his dick inside you. Eventually, your hips go still. Your head drops onto his shoulder while his arms curl around your waist like armor. One hand stroking slowly up your spine, the other resting flat against your thigh.

Your walls are still fluttering, milking him gently, your cunt wet and stretched and full, and neither of you move. You cockwarm like that, breathing in sync. Sticky skin with the wind howling outside.

Arthur presses a kiss to your temple. Another to your shoulder. One more just beneath your jaw, slower this time, reverent.

He murmurs something into your skin. Something low. Something that sounds like your name.

“Reckon you could stay for a while? You say looking at him tenderly.

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckes. His touch is soft. He just fucked you like a goddamn animal but is still the only man alive who knows how to hold you after. He just might be.

“I’ll stay till you get tired of me. I have no where else to be sweetheart.” Arthur laughs heartily.

You can’t wait to make coffee together in the morning.

—

first arthur fic!! i love rdr2 so much it had to be done. ty for reading xx <3

[societyfolklore]

Through the Cold  

Title: Through the Cold  (the electricity is out, let's keep each other warm) Pairing: Avenger Bucky Barnes x  Agent Female Reader

Summary:  After a mission gone awry, Bucky and Reader find shelter in a remote house on the outskirts of town. With the power out and temperatures dropping, they’ll have to find ways to stay warm.

Word Count:  2.7k

Warnings:  Warnings // Explicit Content //18+, Minors DNI, Fluff, Pet names, unprotected sex (Don’t!), Fingering. Not Beta read.

A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge) Day 13 (Yeah I don't know if I’m not really doing this right…) The wind howled outside, battering against the thin walls of the small house you and Bucky had taken refuge in. Snow piled high against the windows, casting the room in a muted, white glow. The mission hadn’t gone as planned, but you were both safe for now and luckily you’d found this house before the blizzard turned dangerous. You leaned against the window, rubbing your arms as you watched the storm rage outside. Your breath fogged the glass, and the chill in the air seeped through every crack and crevice of the old structure. Still it was better then being outside..

“It’s getting colder,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at Bucky. He was crouched by the fireplace, fiddling with a bundle of wood he’d found in the corner. His metal hand glinted in the dim light, steady and precise as he arranged the logs.

“I know,” he replied, his voice low and calm. “I’ll get this fire going in a minute.”

You turned back to the window, shivering as another gust of wind rattled the glass. Your coat and gear were soaked from the snow, and you hadn’t had a chance to dry off properly.

“We’ll be fine,” Bucky said from behind you, his tone firm but reassuring. “It’s just one night.”

“I know,” you murmured. “I just hate being stuck like this.”

The sound of a match striking drew your attention, and you turned to see a small flame catch on the kindling. The firelight danced across Bucky’s face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intense focus in his blue eyes. He fed the fire carefully until it roared to life, filling the room with a faint warmth.

“There,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands off. “That should help.”

You stepped closer to the fire, holding your hands out toward the flames. “Thanks,” you said softly.

Bucky nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned to inspect the rest of the room. The house was small, just a kitchen, a living area, and a bedroom. It looked like no one had lived here in years, but it was clean and dry, which was more than you could ask for given the circumstances.

“There’s no power,” Bucky said after checking the light switches. “Figures.”

“Great,” you muttered. “So, no heat except for the fire, no lights, and no way to charge our comms.”

“We’ll manage,” he said, his voice steady. “We always do.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Over the years, you and Bucky had been through worse. Still, the cold was already biting at your fingers and toes, and the thought of spending the night in these conditions wasn’t exactly comforting.

After a while, the fire began to warm the room enough for you to take off your wet coat. You draped it over a chair near the hearth, hoping it would dry before morning. Bucky did the same, his leather jacket and combat vest joining the makeshift drying rack. He had the luxury of running warm from the serum, while you were just stuck with whatever your body could muster and you were scrunching fingers and toes trying to encourage blood flow.

“Here,” he said, tossing you a blanket he’d found in the bedroom. “It’s not much, but it’ll help.”

You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, sighing in relief as the soft fabric trapped some of the heat from the fire. “Thanks.”

Bucky settled onto the floor near the hearth, leaning back against the couch that looked to decrepit to carry any weight and stretching out his legs. He looked tired, his shoulders slumped and his head tilted back slightly. The sight tugged at your heart—he always carried so much weight, and it wasn’t just the mission that had worn him down. The fatigue that infected his soul at times came through,

“You should rest,” you said, sitting down beside him.

“I’ll rest when you do,” he replied without looking at you.

“Bucky,” you said, your tone soft but insistent. “You’re not doing either of us any favours by running yourself into the ground. Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

He finally turned to look at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “You’re freezing,” he said after a moment. “I can see it.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “Don’t argue with me, doll. Come here.”

Before you could respond, he reached out and tugged you closer, pulling you into his side. His metal arm wrapped around your shoulders, and the warmth of his body seeped through the blanket and into your skin. You tensed for a moment, caught off guard, but then you relaxed, leaning into him.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling in your ear.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “Thanks.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the wind howling outside. Slowly, the tension in your body began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of comfort and safety.

“You know,” you said after a while, your voice quiet, “For someone who likes to come off as Mr grumpy pants, your being very sweet.”

Bucky huffed a laugh, his breath warm against your hair. “Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Underneath all the brooding and the grumpiness, your might actually be a softie Barnes...”

“Don’t let that get around,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of sincerity. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

You laughed softly, the sound filling the small space. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

For a moment, you thought you felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head, but before you could be sure, he shifted slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around both of you.

“Get some rest,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you warm. Can’t have you getting sick or dying of hypothermia on me. Might have to get used to a new partner.” “Oh no, new people, the horror.” You teased back settling against him and tried to get some rest, it was going to be a long trek out in the morning. As you drifted off to sleep, cocooned in his warmth, you were sure you felt his face burry into your hair near your neck, probably just trying to get warm himself as he held you tighter. Waking up you were shaking, the cold biting in hard at your bone, Bucky wasn’t there. “B-Bucky?” “Here Doll.” Sitting up you could see in the dim light him moving the old mattress from the bedroom into the living room to cover over the window that had broken as the blizzard outside had broken the window letting the fridged air fill the room. You pulled the blanket tightly around you as he pushed it up again the widow blocking out the wind, and disappeared again the sound of wood breaking before he came in carrying the remains of a bedframe and tossed it into the fire place stocking the flame while you shivered teeth chattering violently before he rejoined you on the floor pulling up against him into his lap “Fuck your freezing Doll.”

“y-y-yeah.”

Bucky pulled off his henley putting onto you for extra layers you head under his chin while he wrapped himself tightly around the fire returning heat to the room.

“I got you, alright, you’re alright.”  He ran firm hand up and down your back trying to get you warm, kissing the top of your head while your buried yourself into him your face pressed into his neck shaking. Staying like this wrapped up in him and the blanket eventually the warm and you warmed your face pressed into his neck, your body relaxing as the cold ebbed and you were now more aware of the situation. How close your mouth was to his neck, the fact he was shirtless, how hard you were breathing? “I- I think.. I’m Ok..”

You tried to move and Bucky seemingly reluctantly loosened his hold pulling away enough to look down at you while you stared up into his face, cheeks pink from the heat. “You feeling warm enough now Doll?” His voice sounded rough and thick with a feeling you didn’t want to name.

“y-yeah..” your reply coming back quiet

“Good.” His hand pushed hair back off your face, his thumb running over your bottom lip. “Had me worried there Princess..” he gaze looked down at your lips. “Sure your warm enough?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Oh just, thinking…” Bucky breath brushed over your face. “Got to be sure.” Before you knew what was happening his lips pressed into yours, it was tender but needing as his hand went into your hair his metal warm wrapping tighter holding you to him. Your little moan coming back dying on his tongue as it slide into your mouth your body melting against his.   Bucky rolled you onto your back his body covering yours as his hand ran down your side and pulling off his henley from you and unzipping the front of your jumpsuit his hand sliding inside the fabric while his hips ground into the side of your hip. “Doll you have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.”   Bucky growled his mouth leaving yours to move down you neck while he pulled the suit down past your waist your hips rolling back into his. “Thought about this perfect little body of yours.” “Buck.” Your voice didn’t even sound like yours, as it got higher his hand pulling the suit down past your hips and down your thighs and off as he marked up your neck.

“You’re so perfect Doll” His hands were everywhere, your breasts, your thighs as he explored and kissed before his hand slide inside your underwear palming at your core drawing up a moan from you as your gripped his bicep, before his finger slide along wet folds. “Oh Princess, looks like I’m not the only one wanting this.” You could yeah the smug smile on his face as he pressed fingers into your clit making your whimper. “Bet I could have done this weeks ago and you’d of let me right?”

“Oh god Buck, yes.”

His fingers eased your entrance only for a moment.

“Deep breath.”  You didn’t even have a chance before he pushed two fingers into your wet heat making your arch and moan “Oh yeah, that’s it, do that for me again.” He drew his metal fingers back out and repeated the action going all the way to his knuckles. “Oh good girl. Such a good girl.” His mouth up against your ear as he nipped at your neck again your hips rocking to meet his fingers. “Oh fuck.. auh..” You felt your face body bend as he curled his fingers forward your body getting hotter as he built up more pace.

“That’s it pretty girl.” He made the world melt. “Going to make it all nice and wet and warm for me.” You arched and rocked for him as he worked your body in a way no one else had taken time too the wind howling outside mixing with the way the blood rushed in your ears.

“Wanna cum now Sweet Thing? “ He asked drawing out another whimper from you, as your got impossibly close your walls holding tightly to his fingers “Or hold it for me?”

“I- I.” You couldn’t think

“I think you should, think I deserve to hear you do I?” He picked up the pace his thumb pressing up into your clit as he worked your cunt the sounds wet desire coming from getting louder. “Come on Doll, wanna hear it, can feel you squeezing.”  His metal thumb moved in tighter circles and it was your undoing. Pleasure crashing into you as it all got to hard to hold. Calling out for him as your grabbed at his arms panting.

“ARGH!”  Your writhed on the floor bucking into his hand your walls held onto his fingers tightly before he let your body slump.

“Oh Doll, you are perfect.” He pulled his fingers from you licking off the coating you’d left on them before undoing his pants kneeling over your body watching you skin shine in the fires light as he got himself free of his denim leaning back over you. “So perfect, and all mine.” He almost sounded like an animal growling the words as he kissed backup your chest while you lay breathing hard before he lifted your leg up pressing your knee into your chest as he slid himself up along your wet slick moaning at the feel of you making your whimper again.

“Should of done this a looong time ago.” He bent forward captured your mouth in a kiss so hungry you swore he was trying to devour you. His time pushed forward and he sunk himself in half way the sensation. You felt slit open in the best way, walls forced to take him.

“mmmugh.” You noise was muffled by the kiss again as he rocked gently letting you adjust to the feeling before slowly feeding you the remaining inches of him until you felt his tip kiss up again your cervix as he went to his hilt a long moan coming from both of you.

“Bucky God.”

“Yeah, fuck you feel so good Doll better then I dreamed.” Your mind blanked, he dreamed of you? You didn’t have a chance to think to long on that before he moved and he had you soring. Long deep moves that let you know he was there, firm sure movement as he gave you all of him each time.  “So tight for me, Doll.” He made you whimper and moan each time, both of his hands touching with care despite the way his hips pressed up into you.  “It’s ok, I got you.” “Oh god nghm..” It was hard not to loose yourself in the sensation as he filled you over and over, walls pushing back against him each time, Bucky managing to find the angles that sent your reeling each time as your breathing got tighter he moved like a big cat above you all rippling muscle your leg up against his chest as your own hips thrusted back to meet his. “Oh yes Doll. Yeah, just like that, move like that for me.”

His head would go back groaning when you ground your hips into his thrusts. But you felt that familiar strong need building as the heat in your blood reached boiling point.

“Bu-Bucky, Bucky..” Your voice as tight needy and raw as your hand grabbed at his thigh.

“Yeah, fuck come for me Doll. Going to make you mine, let me watch you break.” His own voice straining as his thrust got harder and a little erratic, his own edge clearly close as he waited for you to fall, needing you to fall apart for him.

You looked up at him, eyes locked on his steely blue that looked almost feral in the fire light as he took you apart, before it all got to much at the waves of pleasure crash into you pulling you under as your back arched on the floor crying out as your nails dug into his thigh, He hammered into you harder, before crying out hot ropes coursing into you painting your insides before collapsing down over the top of you.

“Jesus Christ Doll.” He swore holding himself up over you so not to crush you, your walls still grabbing as he twitched and pulsed inside you. All you did was pant and whimper as you came down. Bucky placing a softer kiss on your forehead. “Still with me Sweet thing?”

“I, think so..” You panted out, Bucky laughing a little as he ran kissed you lightly still breathing hard himself and wrapped himself around you in the blanket.

“Definitely warm now..”  You joked slowly coming back down as he pulled out and got onto his back pulling out over onto him.

“Yeah, me too.”  

[gojoidyll]

to you, from us

gojo satoru x reader, table of contents

whereas satoru makes it a habit to record messages for his future kids ever since he met you. "dear future kids, fortunately, I have met your mother. unfortunately, we will be embarrassing you daily."

based off of this drabble , decided to bring this one back ヽ(*´▽)ノ♪

taglist

@softstarsabove @eis1kitsune @swagangelllamawolf @yozora7154 @r0ckst4rjk @peqch-pie @saihar4s @ilovethegold @simplymygojo

i. if i had to pick a color

when gojo meets you for the first time, his world literally stops turning. his heart is beating fast, his cheeks are turning a bright, hot red, and his hands, oh god, his hands are so fucking sweaty. is he actually nervous?!

ii. rely on me

you and him go on a mission alone together. his mind just won't stop racing and you start to notice his scatterbrain.

iii. what my heart wants

gojo couldn't deny his heart. not with the way it thumps so loud every time he is near you. so he decides to avoid you. distance is a good thing, right?

iv. december was always cold

despite his birthday being in december. it was always so cold. always spent alone. and yet, you enter his day like a blizzard. a whirlwind of snow unyielding to any other element blocking your path to him.

v. if the world was kinder

a new year meant moving on as second years in jujutsu tech. it also meant new underclassmen. new missions. new troubles. yet you both never thought your troubles would deal with the star plasma vessel.

vi. some people never stay the same

after the star plasma vessel incident. gojo pushes forward to become stronger. not once realizing what was going on with geto or what was going on ... with you.

vii. maybe if i got on one knee

arguing with you was never the plan. he was a dumb teenager. always was and always has been. he hopes that getting on one knee could change the trajectory of both everything and everywhere at once.

viii. my happiness and what comes from it

as a new teacher at jujutsu tech, he hopes he will be making a difference. but it wasn't like he had to worry with you backing him up.

ix. for their youth

yuta okkotsu was cursed. geto was finally making his move. and you were about to give birth (again). nothing is ever easy. but he could manage.

x. i'm the strongest

with yuta, maki, toge, and panda safely becoming second years, gojo wonders what the new first years have in store for him. especially with sukuna involved.

xi. if i can save you in shibuya

mishaps are bound to happen. him being sealed wasn't supposed to be one of them. but he wasn't worried. you could always handle yourself.

xii. i'd win

life moves on. things change. that includes you, and it includes sukuna, too, apparently. he wasn't worried. he couldn't be. he could handle everything by himself.

xiii. to you, from us

your youngest keeps pressing replay, yet your oldest keeps pressing forward.

[loki-cees-all]

Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.

W/c : 6.2k words

Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position

Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

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This had to be a joke. 

Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet. 

Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…

But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn. 

The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now? 

Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.

“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”

The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off. 

You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?” 

He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was. 

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.

It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard. 

But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.

“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way. 

You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?” 

Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to. 

“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?” 

“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating…Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?” 

She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.” 

“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”

“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.

The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.

“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”

The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”

Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?” 

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Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his. 

If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned. 

By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.” 

Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.” 

“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name. 

“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…” 

The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?” 

Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides. 

Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?” 

You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary. 

And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised. 

As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. 

It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were. 

And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.

A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career. 

You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it. 

And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing. 

You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”

“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung. 

You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you. 

“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension. 

Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.” 

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”

He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…” 

You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”

Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you. 

“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again. 

“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought. 

Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would. 

“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future. 

“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight. 

“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…” 

“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle. 

“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs. 

How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage. 

The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy. 

You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?” 

Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…” 

Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night. 

The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much. 

It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through. 

All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?

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Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones. 

A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor. 

He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this. 

But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor. 

“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you. 

Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.” 

It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.” 

“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.” 

No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?” 

Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.” 

You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.” 

Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine. 

“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?

“I’m doing just fine in the cold.” 

Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear. 

His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself. 

“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist. 

“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…” 

You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…” 

“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling. 

“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch. 

Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving. 

“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin. 

“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours. 

You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?” 

“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans. 

This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…

And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs. 

The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth. 

Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more. 

Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?” 

“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you. 

“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. 

“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work. 

Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?” 

That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached. 

“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear. 

“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!” 

Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers. 

“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen. 

Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them. 

Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?” 

“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come. 

Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his. 

You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time. 

He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours. 

“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly. 

“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips. 

You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open. 

“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips. 

Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away. 

You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together. 

The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again. 

There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh. 

The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing. 

Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…

Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…” 

Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was. 

A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again. 

Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you. 

You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first? 

The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning. 

You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close. 

“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy. 

You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ” 

Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand. 

“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.” 

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…” 

Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously. 

Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”

His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday? 

You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully. 

Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?” 

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

[coichii]

BABY, ITS COLD OUTSIDE ✭

—(🎧)—> your visiting your best friend, about to head out for the evening. it’s all changed by a seemingly instant blizzard. now that you have to spend the night at his, could this be your chance to tell him that you love him?

pairing - bsf!hyunjin ♥︎ fem!reader

genre: bsf to lovers, comfort & fluff

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mutual pining, sleeping in same bed(non sexual) before dating

series note : hello !! welcome to part four of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “Baby, it’s cold outside” by Frank Sinatra. enjoy!

“Hyunjin? Have you seen my coat?”

The weather? Absolutely ran through with snow.

It’s a nice winter day, no less than 20 degrees outside. The wind blows flurries of snow across the sky, piles of it building up and overflowing the grass and roads. A winter wonderland, if you will.

Hyunjin had invited you over to his, knowing his place had a fireplace and yours didn’t. He didn’t want you to suffer in the cold, knowing you would be to shy to ask yourself.

Deep down, Hyunjin knows he asked you to come over for a different reason. Yes, he was worried about you being cold and possibly getting sick, but, he also has a massive crush on you.

Ever since freshman year of highschool, he’s been insanely into you. Seeing you walk past him on your way to class to talking to you every single day in and outside of school, only confirmed his love.

He loved how you supported him when he started his idol career, cheering him on from hellevator to chk chk boom. He loved everything about you, but he wasn’t sure if you felt the same.

How wrong could he be. You’ve loved him ever since high school too. You loved the way his eyes lit up every time he would rave about dancing. Melting when he would show you his absolutely beautiful pieces of art. Honestly dying every time he even looked at you.

You love him, but he’s a world famous idol, and you’re just some nerdy college student. You shouldn’t succumb to such feelings, you’re just going to get hurt.

“Oh, uh.” He looks around. “I can go look.”

You hum at him as he scurries off, searching around his tiny apartment for the beige, wintery coat you decided to wear to his.

You don’t want to leave, but it’s getting late. The sun sets early and the snow is picking up, and you wouldn’t want to worry anybody about your safety.

Hyunjin walks back into the living room empty handed. You swear you can see a blush on his cheeks but you’re not all to confident.

“I checked, couldn’t find it.” He looks out the window. “You can’t leave in that.”

You mirror his actions, turning your head to look out the window.

It might as well be a blizzard outside.

The snow was now coming down in herds rather than flurries. Snow piling up hiding the foundation of houses just across the street. You’re not even sure if you can see the orange of the sky anymore because all you see is white.

“Wow.” Is all you can mumble out as you continue staring. “How am I going to get home?”

“You can stay here for the night, I won’t mind. It’s too dangerous for you to leave anyways.” He argues, looking in your eyes for any sense of discomfort.

“O-oh uh… are you sure? I mean I don’t want to be a bother.” You stammer, hands flinging in a distinct motion.

“Y/n, I’ve known you since high school. I promise it’s not an issue. Besides,” he looks out the window once more. “what can you do.”

You think for a moment, but you know it’s pointless. He’s right, what can you do. The snow is here and it’s here to stay. And it’s not like you don’t want to spend the night at your handsome crushes house.

“You’re right.” You sigh. “I hope I won’t be a bother.”

“Y/n.” He says sternly, grabbing your hands. You ignore the burning in your cheeks as he ignores the burning in his. “You aren’t and will never be a bother.”

You can hear the sincerity in his voice as you nod, taking note of the look in his beautiful, black eyes.

“I’ll set it up so that you can sleep.” He smiles, letting go of your hand and walking towards the one bedroom’s door.

You’re positive you’re flushing red.

Staying over??? At his house??? The sweat might as well have been pouring down your skin at this point.

You’ve known him since Highschool, and you’ve been over plenty of times both when he lived with his parents and after he had moved out. You practically have the entire place mapped out in your mind. But, you had never slept over before. Blame your strict parents and nervousness for that.

You ignore the bubbling anixety in your chest as you follow hyunjins steps, walking towards his bedroom.

Inside you see him cleaning up anything that had been left on the floor, decently clean for a man. You also notice him having a new pair of sheets in hand.

“Oh? Where are you going to sleep Hyunjin?” You nervously ask, heart rate spiking when he turns around and faces you.

“I’m going to take the couch. Want you to be well rested for when you drive back in this weather.” His voice is low, almost as if the darkness from outside was making him tired despite it being no later than 5pm.

“You’re sure?” You ask, and he just hums in response, mind too focused on pulling the sheets past the corners of the mattress. “Why don’t you shower so you can be in bed soon. I know you’ve had a long day.”

You hum back at him as you find the linen closet, grabbing a soft pink set of towels and moving to the bathroom.

◂—♥︎—▸

It’s been about two hours since you had showered, and about an hour since you had fallen asleep.

The sheets are beyond comfortable, feeling equivalent to a cloud as you soak up its warmth. You should be dreaming like this, comforted and relaxed.

But in your head, you’re experiencing one of the worst nightmares you think you ever have.

A reoccurring one at that. You’ve seen it time and time before as a child, the vision severed into your mind permanently. You don’t know why, but this one is particularly vivid.

Colors flashing, noises loud, lights blaring. It’s terrifying, so you can’t say you’re exactly pissed when you wake up in a cold sweat, hand clutching at the loose shirt hyunjin gifted you for you to sleep in.

Shakingly, your sweaty hands reach for the tiny lamp that’s resting upon hyunjin’s nightstand and flick it on, exhaling sharply as the once dark figures in the room start to take shape.

The dream is over, and you know it, but you still can’t get that eerie, unsafe feeling out of your heart and stomach.

You know what you need to do.

“H-hyunjin” your voice is low and quivering as you creep into his living room, seeing hyunjin sprawled out of the couch with a thin blanket cloaking his body.

“Jinnie?” You nudge his body, him groaning and twisting. “Jinnie, p-please wake up.”

Hyunjin pries his eyes open, squinting until he processes the sight of hot tears cascading down your cheeks.

“Woah woah, y/n. What happened.” He moves his hand to wipe the tears away with his soft thumb. You ignore the turning of your stomach as you lean into his touch.

“I-I’m sorry this is s-so embarrassing.” You sniffle, moving your hands to hide your reddening face.

“Ba- I mean y/n. If it’s making you cry like this, then it can’t possibly be embarrassing.” He gently pries your hands from your face, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Tell me what happened so I can help you.”

“I uh, just had a nightmare. It was vivid and s-scared me.” Hyunjin coos at your response, rubbing his finger against your cheek.

“Oh, y/n. You’re safe now, y’know.” You nod. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

You think for a moment, heart still racing uncontrollably. You know you won’t be able to sleep anymore with this feeling in your chest, and you also that hyunjin always helps to calm you down.

“I-if you’re not u-uncomfortable. C-can you sleep in bed with me?” Your soft voice hits his ears, and he immediately smiles and sits up.

“Of course, y/n.”

◂—♥︎—▸

A stream of light breaches a small crack in the blinds, hitting and warming a slice of your face.

In bed lies you and hyunjin, his arms found their way around your waist in the middle of the night, his head buried into the crook of your neck.

You hear him groan beside you, your body growing hot as slightly tightens his grip around your body.

“Mhm.” He groans, eyes slowly prying open. It takes him a while to process his armed wrapped around your waist, face turning red as he moved it back to his side.

“y/nnie, good morning.” He grumbles, voice slurred with sleep. “How’d you sleep?”

He’s moved back to his side of the bed now, the area he had been in when he first got in bed with you.

He doesn’t know how he moved from there all the way to your side, but he’s not complaining.

“Well thanks to you. Seriously, you have no idea how much it means to me.” You mumble in response, burying your face back into the cold, satiny pillow.

“You don’t have to thank me at all, y/n. I do it because I lo-“ he breathes in. “Y/n? Can I tell you something?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, heart dropping and picking up speed. “Y-yeah sure. What’s up?”

He sighs, “You don’t need to thank me because I love you. I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. I would help you again and again and again no matter what. I’m sorry if it’s sudden, but I never want you to question why I would do something for you.”

Your silence frightens him as you soak in every single word that he said, looking in his eyes as yours begin to sparkle with tears.

“C-can I kiss you?” He ask, bringing one of his soft palms to your cheek. You sheepishly nod as he brings his face to yours and presses his lips against yours.

It’s soft, delicate, and sweet. Lips mold together seamlessly, each press deeper bringing a wave of blissfulness. It’s better than anything you have ever felt, warmer than any kiss you have ever experienced.

Pure love.

◂—♥︎—▸

“So, date next week?” You ask as he throws your coat over your shoulders. He smiles as he turns you around to face him. “Mhm!”

“Okay then. See you then, jinnie.” You smile, making your way to the door as he suddenly grabs your wrist from behind.

“Heyyy. No goodbye kiss?” He pouts, lip sticking out in an annoyingly adorable fashion.”

“Okay, okay. C’mere.”

And wow, does it feel amazing to press your lips against his. To not be drowned in doubts or uncertainties anymore. To know the man you’re in love with is in love with you too.

It’s the warmest, most beautiful feeling in the world, and you would have it any other way.

[eiightysixbaby]

let it snow

eddie munson x fem!reader

my contribution for @littlexdeaths 12 days of promptmas!prompt: snowed in or caught in a blizzard

i know it’s not technically day one anymore, so sorry this is coming a bit late, but i hope it’s okay!

no warnings, just fluff!

The snow picked up an alarming amount between the time you walked into the corner store, and now. You swear you couldn’t have been inside longer than twenty minutes, and already the city streets are coated in white powder.

And it’s not a light, delicate fall of snow. Oh no. It’s huge, fluffy flakes that make it hard to see even a few blocks down the road.

You sigh, shifting the few shopping bags in your gloved hands as you prepare to brave the weather. To make matters worse, you don’t fully feel comfortable in navigating back to your hotel. You weren’t even supposed to be in such a big city all by yourself, but you’d decided to stop and stay overnight, splitting your drive home for the holidays into two parts.

You don’t know the area at all, really, and with such heavy snow coming down, you’ll be lucky if you can make it back without struggle.

You start your walk, tucking your face into your scarf as much as you can to shield it from the icy wind. It’s getting slightly darker, the winter sun preparing to hide away for the night.

Just fucking great.

You navigate the slick sidewalks, grateful you wore your most durable boots for this trek. You eye the street carefully, taking note of the shops you pass and the side streets juxtaposed with the larger main road. The longer you walk, though, the more you start to think you aren't going the right way. It didn't take you this long to get to the corner store, so there's no way it should be taking you so long to get back. And you swear you don't remember passing that building on your way.

Shit.

The white flakes seem to fall even harder now, and in the decreasing daylight you curse yourself for leaving your hotel room in the first place. You curse yourself for stopping in the middle of your drive home, too — you should’ve just stayed on course and suffered through driving at night.

You eventually make the decision to turn around, certain you're not going the correct way. Only when you turn, your heel slips on the pavement, and in one swift motion, your ass is hitting the ground. Your bags land around you in the snow, the wet substance seeping through your pants and chilling you to the bone almost instantly.

“Woah, you alright?”

You snap your head up in surprise, meeting the figure that the voice belongs to. You hadn't even noticed anyone nearby, and honestly assumed you had to be the only moron out in this weather.

“Uh, yeah. I think so,” you reply, regaining your bearings.

The stranger holds out a gloved hand, and you accept it somewhat pitifully. He helps you to your feet, and only then do you get a good look at him.

He's truly gorgeous, to say the least. Like, severely handsome. And he just watched you plummet onto your ass in the snow.

He's got the prettiest brown eyes; that's what you notice first. His brow is furrowed in slight concern, and those chocolate irises scan your face. He has long, curly brown hair, though it's mostly white from the snowflakes that cling to it. The top of his head is covered by a red beanie, which plasters his bangs to his forehead.

He's dressed in a puffy black coat and black jeans to match, with heavy combat boots on his feet. A plaid scarf finishes off the look, and although he's dressed warmly, his ivory skin is flushed red from the windchill. The tip of his nose is adorably the reddest part, and then you realize you're totally ogling him.

“Um, thank you,” you say awkwardly, bending down to retrieve your bags.

“Sorry, I would've grabbed the bags, but I honestly didn't want you to think I was going to take them and run,” he says, laughing faintly at the end.

“Why would I think that?” you ask.

He tilts his head slightly to the side.

“You're not from the city, are you?” he answers your question with a question.

“No, ah, I'm not from anywhere near here,” you admit. “I'm a small town girl to my core.”

“That explains it,” he smiles. “Well, that's refreshing, honestly.”

You smile in return, finding that you don't know what else to say, but also that you don't want to walk away from him. Luckily, he speaks first.

“What're you doing out in this weather?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He smiles again, that endearing little grin. “Touché, but at least I'm familiar with the area.” He pauses, then, “Do you know where you're headed? Like, you're not lost, are you?”

You feel your face heat with embarrassment. “Actually, I was trying to find my way back to my hotel. But I have no idea where it is from here. I have no clue how I got myself so turned around,”you gush, mentally kicking yourself.

You shiver, your now-wet jeans clinging to your skin unforgivingly.

“Shit, you're probably freezing,” he says. “Listen,” he chews at his lip, pausing. You can see the gears turning in his head, choosing his next words carefully. “I live right up here,” he motions behind you to a tall apartment building. “Do you want to come up? Until this storm blows over?”

For some reason, your heart skips a beat at his offer. Yes, yes I want to come up, you think. You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out.

He’s seriously one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen, and he’s offering you shelter from this storm. But on the other hand, he’s a complete stranger. You don’t even know his name, for christ’s sake.

“I swear, I’m not a creep,” he says, though he visibly cringes after he gets the words out. “Okay, feel like saying that only makes me seem creepier. But I promise. I just don’t want you out here by yourself in this weather.”

“What’s your name?” you ask, the only thing your brain can force out of your mouth.

His eyes go wide for a brief moment, as if to say, ���Oh shit, how have I not introduced myself yet?’.

“Eddie,” he says, holding his hand out for a proper greeting.

“Eddie,” you confirm, finding that you love the way that name feels on your tongue.

God, you have got to get it together.

You give him yours in return, feeling better now that you have something to identify him by. You accept his handshake, firm but careful, like he doesn’t want to scare you off.

“So? Do you wanna come up?” he asks, not prying, but definitely hoping. Hoping you’ll say yes, because he couldn’t bear to end this conversation with you and risk never seeing you again.

“Sure, Eddie,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching up.

And dear god, the way his eyes light up when you agree could make you crumple right there on the city sidewalks.

“O-okay,” he stutters, “Yeah, let’s go.”

He leads you towards the door of his building, taking the bags from your arms.

“I have hot chocolate, by the way. And some dry clothes for you,” he says, catching himself. “I mean, only if you want them. Shit, is that creepy?”

You laugh, letting him hold the door for you.

“It’s not creepy. Thank you. Seriously, you’re a life saver right now.”

And the way he blushes at that, the parts of his face that weren’t already wind-flushed going full pink, makes you swoon. You could actually tackle him to the ground and kiss his adorable little dimples. But you won’t, of course.

“Yeah. Sure thing,” he replies airily, smitten as he watches you traipse through the lobby.

Maybe the frightful weather isn’t such a bad thing, after all.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

[mychlapci]

Skystar centaurformers

The ranch hands buy a new horse for the ranch, and when the cart bring the new comer came all centaurs ventured to view the new guy especially when a MASSIVE cart was wheeled in on the back of the car bringing them in. No bot on the ranch handlers and all every saw a crate so huge bone in even for the heftier of the bunch like Megatron or Magnus.

When the doors open everyone expects some scarred up monster to come out but instead it’s a monster only in size but by appearance an absolutely sweetheart looking centaur.

Everyone is silently watching until loud screams and noise is heard coming in fast. Everyone turns to see Starscream running and hoping fences faster than they’ve ever seen him before. He never ran that far in races or even from Megatron at his worse! And he was coming in hot for the new comer. Sure Star was never the friendliest of centaurs even with the small handful of centaurs he allows near him (TC/SKYWARP/KO/BD) But he’s never outright charged anyone like that.

When the large horse, Skyfire saw this he too screamed at the sight of Starscream but it didn’t sound of one of fear especially when he broke the cart like it was made of dust and ran in the direction of Starscream too. The handlers were all getting the Tranquilizer ready for both centaurs to stop what they all thought was gonna be a fight until Starscream practically jumped into the arms of the bigger bot and Skyfire hugged and held him in return.

It wasn’t until later that day and an unknown number of failed attempts to separate the two did handlers read more of Skyfire’s papers to see that the two apparently had history. Grew up on the same ranch when young, were apparently good friends. Then a giant blizzard came and desecrated the old ranch. Many of the centaurs either died or got lost in the snow. Starscream and a few others were the only ones saved from the storm and eventually sold off to better ranches. Sky was assumed dead for months like the others that were found and lost but it was revealed he managed to run off to a different farm for shelter and the handlers kept him there until the sale of today.

It explains why Starscream was so hard to buy in the beginning years back, refusing to leave his old ranch even when it was nothing more but shambles in the ground looking off into the distance as if something was waiting.

I mean good to know they weren’t gonna have fights on the grounds. Or at least more than they already do.

A few weeks past and Skyfire was making gold with nearly all centaurs on the ranch or at least he was when Starscream let him out of his sights. It was actually a bit comical. Sky was a goddamn Goliath of a centaur and this small skinny thing that was Starscream was basically holding him all to himself.

Eventually though things started changing. Starscream wasn’t looking too good. His runs were slower, pretty bad for a top race horse, and he was limping a lot. Giving Starscream a check up was already hard but in this cases it was worse. At first it was assumed Megatron was hurting Starscream again so they Moved him to a different section of the ranch. It pissed off Megatron as he didn’t do Shit, this time. And he has to watch his mate (Optimus) his heat was soon and schedules be damned he was hitting that this season.

That event brought some joy to Starscream, and it even showed some improvement to his physical form. However it didn’t take too long for the handlers to see the REAL cause of Starscream’s lower performances. It all started on a day were they were doing headcount’s of the cattle, Drift and Ratchet, checked, Preggers Rodimus and Magnus, Check, Knockout and Breakdown, Check, the trine + the newcomer Skyfire. . . .not checked Starscream and Skyfire were missing and that raised some brows. Starscream while difficult was never absent from checks or outside of his usual areas, and Skyfire was usually now wherever Star and his friends were or even with the autobot cattle sometimes.

As the handler searched for the missing two they came upon a sight that no matter how many drinks of hard energon or scrapping from his memory banks it will haunt him forever.

Starscream was basically what the ranchers were doubting unbreedable. No matter the decoys or even the partners Starscream would never comply. Even collecting his fluids to sell them was a difficult task. But here it is……..burned into this poor poor ranchers mind forever.

Starscream was holding on to dear life on a small wall with his front horse legs and a beam infront of him on the ceiling with his more bot upper half as Skyfire was ramming away from him at the back. The sight….the sight could only be described as an industrial jackhammer trying to thread its head into a sewing needle, but Starscream was taking it all in. Even by regular centaur standards Skyfire was huge and looking at his cock, that thing was just as much of a monster in size as him. And yet there was Starscream through haggard breaths and tears in his eyes taking it all and begging for more. It’s obviously Sky is trying to be gentle but with that size gentle just couldn’t happen.

The handler just walks out the door of the very much occupied building of the barn and lets the two finish. As they get back to the other farm hands they tell them all to start prepping for another unscheduled pregnancy of one of the top racing horses and to start Starscream of all Centaurs on a carrying schedule.

Also to bring back Megatron.

He missed Optimus’s heat and a different stud was chosen to breed him while he was away. Now he’s mad but Starscream is happy with all of the events. Happy but limping and full.

that’s so funny he ruined everyone’s time and got his. good for him good for him. maybe too good.

[dixons-sunshine]

In SICKNESS and in health | Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Even before you and Daryl got married, he vowed that he would take care of you, no matter what—in sickness and in health. Now, when Daryl returns from a run, burning up, sniffling and coughing, it’s your turn to return the favour and take care of him.

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting and swearing, but other than that, fluff!

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Word count: 2.8k

A/n: Not me casually dropping a fic after more than a year of nothing lol. Sorry about that :`). I’m also sorry about the crappy writing you’re about to read. I’m extremely rusty from not writing in forever. Also, this is my first time writing for Daryl, so I hope I captured his character as accurately as possible.

You hummed quietly to yourself in the kitchen of the small two-story house you and Daryl occupied in Alexandria. After a harsh, intense period of fighting with not only the undead but the Saviours as well, it was nice to have some semblance of peace in the aftermath. It had been a grueling process to rebuild the remains of Alexandria from the ground up, but with the help from everyone in the community, as well as from people in other communities as well, Alexandria stood tall and proud once again. With all the houses rebuilt and with additional houses built as well, you and Daryl had opted to claim one of the smaller properties as your own, a sanctuary away from the bustling crowd of Alexandria after an exhausting day.

Chopping up vegetables to add to the soup you were making, you could distinctly hear the unmistakable rumble of your husband’s motorcycle, making a small, relieved smile grace your features. A couple of people in Alexandria—including Rick and Daryl—had gone of on a run three days prior and you had been worried sick. It was snowing rather heavily, and when a blizzard passed through the day before, your worry had skyrocketed through the roof. You weren’t alone in your worry—Michonne had been worried to death, too—but all you could do was hope for the best. Thankfully, it seemed as if though everyone was okay.

The rumbling of Daryl’s motorcycle became louder the closer he got to your shared living quarters. When he parked in the driveway, the rumble abruptly stopped. Turning your attention back to the task at hand while anxiously waiting for Daryl to walk through the front door, you chopped up the last of the vegetables and added it to the soup you were preparing—chicken noodle soup—and made sure to season it accordingly. It was a dish that you had been wanting to make for a while, especially with the cold weather that bestowed itself upon the world.

The front door opened with a faint creak, notifying you of Daryl’s arrival. After wiping your hands on a rag, you moved out of the kitchen and towards the living room where the front door was located. There, you found Daryl slowly shedding himself of his coat. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his eyes were shut. When he heard your footsteps, he opened his eyes and looked up at you, giving you a small, tired smile.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly. “You’re still up?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before moving towards you. He draped his coat over the back of one of the couches and moved towards you, embracing you in a loving hug. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, and you swore you could hear faint sniffling.

You returned the hug instantly, resting your head against his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. I was worried about you.”

“M’sorry. We would’a gotten back a lot sooner, but the damn blizzard had us trapped. We had to camp out in one’a them houses on the road back."

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, your arms around him slightly tightening. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Daryl hummed and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, neither one of you breaking the hug just yet. The only sound that could be heard was from the fire crackling in the fireplace behind you. However, after a few seconds, you could hear a few faint sniffles coming from the archer. Frowning, you withdrew slightly, looking up at Daryl in concern.

“Dar... Are you okay?” you inquired softly, your tone perfectly voicing the concern you felt for your significant other.

“Yeah, m’fine. M’jus’ tired,” he said, trying to assure you. However, you weren’t buying it, and he knew it. “I swear, m’alright.”

Before you could voice your protest, Daryl quickly pulled away from the hug and stepped back. He brought his face to his elbow and erupted into a coughing fit, his chest heaving.

“You don’t look fine,” you countered his previous statement after his coughing stopped, taking a tentative step forward. Your eyebrows were pulled together in worry.

“Nah, m’fine. Jus’ got somethin’ in my throat, s’all," he replied firmly, trying his best to keep his face neutral. His attempts proved to be futile, however, when he sneezed into his elbow and the sneeze was shortly followed by another rampage of brutal coughs.

You walked up to your husband and took his hand in yours, prompting him to look at you. Raising one of your hands to his forehead, you weren’t completely surprised when you felt a scorching hotness beneath your palm. Daryl felt like a furnace, and you were a little surprised that you hadn’t realised it sooner. He had just come into the house after being out in the icy cold weather for three days, but instead of feeling cold, Daryl had felt warm—warmer than usual.

“Baby,” you whispered, raising your hands to gently cup his cheeks. Your frown deepened, your concern for your husband not fading. “You are not fine. You’re burning up.”

Daryl sighed. He closed his eyes and leaned into your soft touch, enjoying the coolness of your hands. “M’fine. Ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout me. I’ll live,” he mumbled stubbornly.

“Daryl,” you started, your tone stern but gentle, “you’re not fine. I can see that much. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a shower? I’ll be right up.”

Daryl opened his eyes and gave you a crooked smile. “I have a feelin’ that you ain’t about to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

You smiled at him and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “Your feeling would be correct. Go on. I’ll join you in the room in a few minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daryl responded with a small smile, before withdrawing from your touch and turning to descend up the stairs to execute your instructions.

You turned around and headed to the kitchen. From upstairs, you could faintly hear the shower running, and you felt relieved that Daryl was heeding your advice and showering off the grime of the last few days. After rummaging through the cabinets, you finally found a bottle of Tylenol. You set it down on the counter and turned towards the cabinets again, and took a glass from one of the shelves. After filling it up with water, you walked over to the stove and stirred the soup, tasting it after a couple of minutes to ensure it was ready. After retrieving a bowl and a spoon, you filled the bowl up with the soup and placed the bowl on a tray, as well as the water and the bottle of Tylenol.

You carefully and slowly descended up the stairs to ensure that not a drop of soup was wasted. Successfully reaching the top with no complications, you turned towards your and Daryl’s shared room and pushed the door open. After putting the tray down on Daryl’s bedside table, you could hear the shower shut off and the distinct shuffling of Daryl getting dressed.

You sat on the bed and waited patiently for your husband to join you in your shared quarters. After a few minutes, Daryl finally came into the room, clad in a loose fitting shirt and flannel pants. Now that he was cleaned up, you could practically see how sick he really was. He looked pale and his eyebrows were scrunched together, signalling that he was, without a doubt, suffering from an intense migraine.

You got up from your seated position on the bed and walked over to him. He offered you a small, weak smile, and you returned the gesture. Taking his hands in yours, you slowly started tugging Daryl along with you to the bed. You gently pushed him to sit on the bed, and he complied, but not without protest.

“You’re doin’ too much for me. Ya don’t have to, y’know? I’ll be alright,” Daryl protested, laying his head back against the wooden headboard.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. You’re always taking care of others, me most of all, so let me take care of you for a change.”

Daryl grumbled something under his breath and sighed, but nevertheless, nodded slightly. He covered himself with the blankets and carefully watched you through half lidded eyes. His eyes widened slightly in delight when you lifted the bowl of soup from the tray and delicately placed it in his lap. You sat on the edge of the bed next to him and gave him an expectant look.

“Eat up. I didn’t make this for love and charity, you know,” you joked, bringing a hand up to brush Daryl’s wet tendrils back from his eyes, giving you a better view of the ocean coloured irises you loved to get lost in.

“What ‘bout you? Ain’t ya gonna eat, too?”

You chuckled quietly and looked lovingly at your husband. “Always taking care of me, huh?”

“Ain’t never gonna stop,” Daryl agreed instantly, looking at you with an intense gaze that portrayed more than words ever could.

“I’ll eat later,” you promised him, gently caressing the side of Daryl’s face before retracting your hand again. “I wanna take care of you first. Make sure you’re comfortable, fed and resting, then I’ll eat something.”

Daryl only stared at you for a few lingering moments, before reluctantly bringing a spoonful of the soup to his mouth. He hummed in approval after the first bite. “This shit’s good. Thanks.”

You laughed lightly and shook your head. Standing up, you headed to the bathroom and grabbed a cloth. After wetting the fabric and wringing it of excess water, you walked back into the room and saw Daryl silently and dutifully devouring the soup. When you drew nearer, you were surprised to note that the bowl was nearly empty.

Daryl looked up at you and noted your surprised look. He gave you a sheepish smile and looked down, his face flushing. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was. Sorry.”

After his statement, another series of coughs wracked through Daryl’s body. When he calmed down, you sat back down on the bed next to him. You leaned forward and gently placed the cloth over his forehead, eliciting a small sigh of relief from the archer.

“What are you apologising for? For enjoying my food?  Believe me, I’m glad you’re enjoying it and can actually stomach it. Usually when I get sick, anything that goes down comes back up in a matter of minutes.”

“That’s disgustin’,” Daryl drawled, scrunching his nose in a way that you found absolutely adorable.

“I never said it was pleasant,” you laughed, taking the empty bowl from him and placing it back down on the tray. You substituted the bowl for the glass of water and handed it to him, as well as two pills that you took from the bottle.

“And this?” Daryl prompted whilst hesitantly accepting the pills from you.

“It’s Tylenol. It’ll help with that fever of yours,” you explained. You watched as Daryl popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed it down with huge gulps of water. When the glass was empty, you took it from him and placed it down on the tray. “I’ll talk to Siddiq tomorrow and see if he has anything for that cough of yours. Your voice has been sounding scratchy and I don’t want you to lose it completely.”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows. However, before he could voice his protest, you quickly cut him off. “No, none of that. I’m talking to Siddiq, and that’s final. I’m also seeing if Aaron would be up for taking your place on runs until you’re feeling okay again, and I better not be hearing any protest from you whatsoever on the matter, Dixon. I’m only letting you out of this house when I know for a fact that you’re not sick anymore.”

Daryl only shook his head. He attempted to keep his face neutral, but the faint smile on his face betrayed his true emotions. He sighed before moving his body to lay down, keeping the damp cloth over his forehead. He shut his eyes and covered it with his arm.

“Alright. If that’s Doctor Dixon’s orders,” Daryl whispered, his tone playful.

You laughed. “It is.”

You moved to stand up and grab the tray, but Daryl’s hand suddenly grabbing yours halted you in your tracks. You turned to look at him and saw his eyes now trained on you. He seemed hesitant to ask you something, and it put you on edge.

“You okay?” you asked, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He nodded. “Yeah, m’alright. S’jus’...” He inhaled deeply and averted his eyes, seemingly ashamed of himself for the question he was about to ask. “Would ya maybe stay with me? I mean, s’late anyway and ya need to sleep, too.”

The tray on the bedside table was instantly forgotten. You smiled gently and brought your husband’s hand up to your lips, pressing a feathery light kiss on his knuckles. “Of course I’ll stay with you. You didn’t even need to ask.”

You walked over to your side of the bed and laid down on the soft mattress. Daryl covered you with the blankets and then proceeded to peel the cloth from his forehead, carelessly tossing it to the side somewhere on the ground. The two of you silently laid side by side for a couple of moments until you lightly patted your chest.

“Come here. I’ll hold you.”

Daryl scoffed slightly, his cheeks flushing, but complied, turning his body to lay his head down on your chest. You slotted your legs between his and slightly adjusted your body until you were comfortable. The archer wound his arms around your midsection and you brought your arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly to your chest.

“Comfortable?” you whispered softly, running one of your hands through his hair, softly scratching his scalp as you went.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, pressing his face deeper into your chest. He quietly sighed in content, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and the soft scratching of his scalp slowly lulling him into slumber.

For the next few minutes, the both of you stayed there in a content silence. You continuously dragged your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, and your other hand was lightly tracing the lengths of his arm. The silence was only broken by Daryl when he slightly lifted his head to look at you, his eyes heavy with sleep, but filled with an undeniable love for you.

“I love ya,”;he whispered quietly, making your heart flutter and a loving smile grace your face.

It was quite uncommon for Daryl to utter those three words first. Not because he didn’t love you, but because he wasn’t good with expressing his emotions the way people normally would. Because of that, he showed his love to you through actions, and you were perfectly okay with being the one to say ‘I love you’ to him first most of the time. However, when he did express those three words to you verbally without you saying it first, it always made your heart swell with adoration and love.

You pressed a gentle, soft kiss to his forehead. “I love you more.”

That made Daryl scoff and bury his head into your chest again. “Nah, that ain’t possible at all.”

Choosing not to argue with your husband, you simply chuckled and resumed your previous activity of threading your fingers through his hair. Not long after, you saw Daryl’s breathing slow down and steady into a slow rhythm, notifying you of his slumbering state. You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. You settled back onto the bed and rested your chin on top of Daryl’s head, making yourself more comfortable. The soft sounds of Daryl’s breathing beckoned you into slumber as well, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to succumb to the comforting confines of sleep.

Goodnight, love, you thought, finally falling asleep, Daryl tight in your embrace with no intention from you of letting him go.

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |1: Snowed In|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 8k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series summary: In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?

a/n: Just a short collection of one shots that I'll update whenever the ideas strike. It'll be told in a style like Falling for the Devil but it won't get nearly as long (unless y'all end up loving it, too). I just couldn't deny giving us all the fantasy of black suit Matt reappearing at your apartment window and all the flirting, sexual tension, feelings, and naughty things that might ensue... The installment list for this little series can be found here and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer

Picking up the steaming mug of tea you’d just finished making from off the kitchen counter, you cradled your other hand around the warmth of the ceramic and drew it towards your chest as you turned and headed back towards your living room. The small spot of heat against the front of your sweatshirt caused a shiver to run down your spine as your sock-clad feet padded along the cold hardwood floor and back towards your couch. 

It was freezing inside your apartment tonight and the blustering snow storm raging outside in Hell’s Kitchen wasn't helping. Thankfully your office had already announced its closure for tomorrow before you'd finished work earlier this evening. The snow had already started to dump from the sky before you’d even left the office, falling heavy and wild as it accumulated in a cover of white that blanketed everything in the city. It would have been beautiful if you hadn’t needed to walk home afterwards in the frigid mess–especially with the way the large clumps of snowflakes pelted and battered you in the face over and over, the cold stinging at your skin. 

The city was expected to get a whopping eighteen inches of snowfall minimum over the next twenty-four hours, so you were grateful that your boss wanted as little to do with making it into work tomorrow as you did, especially because you couldn’t afford to do anything but walk to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through all of that mess and slip on a patch of ice, inevitably falling in a massive pile of snow and leaving you stuck in damp dress clothes all day. 

No, you'd rather stay dry and cozy at home enjoying a lazy day off of work.

You were just hoping the power in your apartment building remained intact throughout the fury of the winter storm. You didn’t want to think about losing the heat in your building in the middle of all of this. Another shiver ran through you as you pushed the thought away–hopefully not something you’d need to worry about tonight. 

But since you didn’t have work first thing in the morning, you had every intention of enjoying your night. You’d immediately come home and thrown off your dress clothes before settling on something comfortable–soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt sans bra underneath. Then you’d made dinner and cleaned it up fast before claiming your ‘spot’ for the evening on your couch. Which consisted of both of your blankets and the television remote while you binged a guilty pleasure show that you hadn’t had time to catch up on for the past few weeks. Tonight you were intending to stay up a bit late, cozy up beneath your blankets, drink some hot tea, and lose yourself in the plot and romance of the show before eventually dragging your tired ass to bed in the hopes of sleeping in tomorrow to make up for staying up late. 

Eyes focused on the paused television screen as you moved, you rounded the side of your couch while drawing your steaming mug up to your lips. You sipped at the warm liquid, reveling in it for a moment before you swallowed it down. You could feel it heat you from the inside out as a pleasant sensation washed over you. Your eyes closed briefly for a moment–it was the first time you’d actually felt warm today. 

Opening your eyes, you continued towards the couch and began to lower yourself down onto the cushions while trying not to spill any of your tea from the mug. Just as you were about to sit back down on the couch and cocoon yourself in both of your blankets, ready to settle in for more of your show, something outside the window to your right caught your attention. Your head spun in the direction just as a flash of black dashed past the window and a loud bang reverberated through your apartment. 

A frightened yelp slipped out of you at the sound and you clutched your mug tight to your chest, your heart thudding heavily in terror. Whatever had just literally dropped onto your fire escape had been large, especially with the sound of that impact. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you stared transfixed at the window, almost ridiculously terrified it would be some sort of wild animal–like a bear or a wolf–on your fire escape. 

Though, more realistically considering you were in New York City, you knew it was probably a burglar. Who else would be traversing fire escapes late at night? Especially dressed in all dark clothes? Except…that also seemed a little ridiculous, too. There was a literal blizzard happening outside, meaning everyone would be home. In their apartments. Making it impossible for a burglar to break into anyone’s place unseen. Plus, it was insane outside, what criminal would risk dealing with that right now?

So what the hell had just fallen onto your fire escape?

Another thought struck you soon after and your lips parted in shock at the idea as you blew out the breath you’d been holding. With trembling hands, you very slowly reached out, carefully placing your mug of tea onto the coffee table before you without taking your eyes off of your window. Gradually, almost nervously, you rose to your feet before taking hesitant step after hesitant step forward. Another sharp, surprised gasp flew out of you when you saw the dark figure sit upright on your fire escape, bent in half as if they were in pain. Which made sense, considering the fall they’d just taken.

But your body froze up instantly at the sight of the man dressed in all black bent in half and dusted in white patches of snow. He wasn’t a burglar at all. With the black cloth tied over his head and the form fitting shirt he was wearing, there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. You'd certainly seen enough images of him plastered across the media. 

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just fallen onto your fire escape.

Eyes widening in shock at the infamous vigilante attempting to pull himself up to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding onto the metal railing of your fire escape, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to check on him. To make sure he wasn’t seriously injured from that fall. 

Without thinking your actions through, you crossed the last few steps to the window and unlatched the locks before pushing it up. The masked figure immediately spun towards you at the sound as a bitter gust of wind burst its way into your apartment, chilling you instantly while those thick snowflakes once again assailed your face. For a moment you locked eyes with him–or at least, it seemed like you did despite the fabric covering half of his face–as your mouth hung open. You suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to say in the moment. And considering the way his lips thinned out along his face and the way he remained silent, he clearly wasn’t going to strike up a conversation with you, either.

Eyes darting down, you saw he had one gloved hand clutching at his right side as if it hurt him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself as his back faced the violent winds blowing snow relentlessly. Seeing him in person for the first time ever–something you’d never expected in your life considering how elusive the media made him out to be–you realized just how thin and unprotective his clothes really were. Especially tonight considering the cold weather. He had to be freezing.

An icy wind whistled loudly, another flurry of heavy snowflakes pelting you right in the face and breaking you from your thoughts. Blinking the snow from your lashes, you finally found your voice. 

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure how one should approach the masked man. “I just–just saw you fall. It looked like it hurt.”

He gave a curt shake of his head, wincing before he turned more towards the railing. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied.

Something warm flooded your veins at the gravelly tone of his voice. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded fake. Like he was pitching his voice lower to sound like someone else in order to hide his identity. Not that you'd probably have recognized him anyway. 

With his back partially to you now, especially this close when there was barely a few feet of space between the pair of you, you could see just how incredibly muscular this man was. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, the toned abdominal muscles on his upper body clearly visible even from just his profile. Even the pectoral muscles of his chest were well defined and visible beneath the sheen of black. His arms were thick–far too big for just one of your hands to wrap around. And as your gaze lingered lower, you fought back the thoughts that entered your mind at the sight of how large his thighs were in those tight pants–and how pleasant a profile his ass also had. You wondered briefly if he'd gained all that from working out or if it had more to do with his nightly activities.

Though when you saw him grab onto the metal railing of your fire escape with both of his gloved hands, the movement drawing your attention away from observing him as he attempted to swing himself over it, you nearly screamed as you lurched forward. You lived on the fifth floor, was this man really about to fling himself off of the fire escape from all the way up here? 

But the scream died in your throat the moment he cried out in pain, his feet slipping from off of the railing as he fell back onto your fire escape. He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched at his clearly injured side.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, shoving the window open wider despite the cold and snow and leaning further forward. “You’re clearly not okay. Do you need something? An ambulance or something? Is there someone I can call? Or–or something I can do to help?”

The man rolled off his injured side and onto his back, gradually turning towards you as he lay on the fire escape. You hadn’t expected the amused and pained chuckle he emitted while the snow accumulated on the entire front of him, lightly covering the thin layer of his black shirt. Which you’d noticed had ridden up, revealing a small sliver of skin just above the dark, form fitting pants he was wearing. You tried hard to not keep glancing back at that patch of skin as it slowly rose higher and higher, unsure why you were so distracted by it.

The sound of his amusement soon drew you back to the moment and you cringed. Why the hell was he laughing?

“Are you alright? Did you…hit your head?” you asked him cautiously. “Maybe you have a concussion…”

Another amused sound slipped out of him, but that was quickly followed by a pained groan as he tried to once again rise up onto his feet. “I don’t have a concussion,” he assured you.

“You sure?” you asked, an eyebrow arching onto your forehead as you crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm when you began to shiver from the cold. “Because this doesn’t seem like a funny situation to me.”

“Well,” he grunted out, wincing as he drew back up to his full height, “normally I’m the one offering assistance, not the other way around. So yeah,” he continued with a faint shrug, your eyes once again catching the way he was holding his side, “it’s kind of amusing. In an…irritating sort of way.”

Your heart sank to your stomach at his words. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered, heat rushing up to your face instantly. “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I was just concerned–”

He took a half step forward, cutting you off as he waved a hand between the pair of you. He shook his head, letting out a slight huff of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean you were irritating. Just…this situation. The–the snow and the falling part.” In a quieter voice he added, “And having an audience for it.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you stood there studying him for a moment. He was injured and wearing barely anything at all in the middle of a blizzard. He looked like he needed help even if he seemed like the type not to ask for it.

“Do you want to come inside?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “I mean, to get warm and maybe sit down for a moment? I could call an ambulance or–or a taxi or something to bring you to a hospital.”

Another amused huff of laughter slipped out of him as he shook his head. “No hospitals, please. I’ll be alright. But…if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a moment to warm up.” His gloved hand lowered, pinching a bit of fabric from his shirt as he glanced down at it. “Admittedly this doesn’t offer much protection from the elements.”

You eyed the thin material between his gloves doubtfully. “Doesn’t look like it offers much protection from anything,” you told him.

A surprised bark of laughter peeled out of him, the sound drawing a smile onto your face. You’d made the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laugh. Now that was something you weren’t going to forget anytime soon. He didn’t seem like the type to break character easily.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he agreed, his laughter subsiding.

Taking a step back from the window, you waved a hand towards him, gesturing for him to come inside. “How about you come in so I can close this window and we both can stop freezing?” you suggested, surprised at how bold you sounded considering who it was you were speaking with. “I’m shivering already so I can only imagine how cold you must be.”

You watched as his lips curled up into a charming grin at the corners, just beneath the black fabric of his mask. It was impossible to deny that he had a handsome face–at least, from what you could see of it. You imagined the rest of it to be just as attractive beneath that cloth and a sudden intense curiosity to know what the rest of it looked like overtook you as you watched him carefully climb through your opened window. He moved slowly, wincing in pain as he made his way inside. Despite his tough act, that fall must’ve really hurt his side and you frowned, wishing he’d accept your offer to help. There was no way he was as fine as he claimed to be, surely he needed medical attention.

“Takes a special kind of person to just invite me into their home so readily,” the Devil’s rough tone came out as he turned his back to you, shutting the window after himself. “Normally people prefer to avoid me.”

“You’re not dangerous,” you replied almost instantly.

The window closed with a sharp clack before his masked face turned over his snow-dusted shoulder, his attention fixed on you. “Oh?” he asked curiously, a smirk growing over his lips. “I’m not?”

Your eyes were drawn to his mouth, though it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to look when you spoke to him with that mask covering most of his face. The smirk appeared teasing, and for some reason that had the hair on the back of your neck bristling. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your loose sweatshirt and it was now cold in your apartment. Quickly your arms wrapped over your chest, hugging yourself tight. His lips almost seemed to curl ever higher in response.

“I mean, you are ,” you amended, “but to, you know, criminals.” 

You swallowed hard when he remained still, gazing at you over his shoulder wordlessly.There was something almost predatory in the way he was studying you. It was easy to see how this lone man terrified the criminals on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, striking fear into them. He certainly had a presence. Goosebumps rippled beneath the sleeves of your sweatshirt at his continued silent stare.

“Right?” you asked tentatively, voice softer.

His smirk vanished as the other corner of his mouth curled upwards into what felt like a warm smile despite you being unable to see if it reached his eyes. He nodded gently, turning slowly back towards you as he did. 

“That's correct,” he agreed, brushing the snow from his broad shoulders. “I’m only dangerous to criminals. So unless you’re hiding any dead bodies or have some outstanding charges…?”

You laughed, though abruptly you snatched your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to quiet the noise instantly. He was witty and funny. You weren’t anticipating that. Or the way your reaction to his quips seemed to please him, like he was trying to charm you. Which seemed even more curious, considering who he was and what he spent his nights doing. 

“Can't say that I do,” you said. “I'm probably the most boring person in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Well now,” he replied teasingly, “don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you're not taking that title  all by yourself.” 

That charming smile was back on his face and it had your stomach fluttering. Tearing your eyes away from him, you noticed the television was still paused on your show. Paused on a scene where the two actors on screen were clearly about to kiss. Cheeks burning, you hurried over and grabbed the remote from the couch and turned it off. 

“You can make yourself comfortable if you want,” you told him, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your tone. “I've got a couple of blankets you can use to help warm you up.”

His heavy boots thudded with each of his steps as he crossed the room and made his way to the couch. You bent over, grabbing both blankets from your place on the couch where you'd previously been curled up as he passed behind you. The moment one of his cold gloves brushed against your back, you froze.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“No it's–it's fine,” you replied. 

He passed behind you before settling onto the opposite end of the couch from where you had clearly taken residence. You forced a smile onto your face as you turned and leaned over, holding out the blankets towards him. 

Pull yourself together , you internally chastised yourself. Just because it's been a while since you've had a man here doesn't mean you need to react to every little thing. That's not what this is, obviously. 

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the blankets from your outstretched hand. 

You nodded before sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping space between you and him. Curling your legs up under yourself, you watched as the Devil wasted no time throwing both blankets around himself, beginning to visibly shiver beneath them as he tried to warm up.

“Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?” you asked him.

“No one to call,” he answered. “And a hospital would defeat the purpose of trying to remain anonymous.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” you muttered, glancing away and spotting the forgotten tea on your coffee table. “Would you like something to drink at least? Some water or some hot tea, maybe?”

His masked head tilted curiously to the side at your question, a grin returning to his plush lips. “Playing hostess?” he asked. 

“Well I'm sure you've got to be thirsty running around Hell’s Kitchen and fighting criminals all the time,” you explained. “I always sort of wondered if you stashed water bottles around the city or stopped for water breaks somewhere–not where you live, I imagine. Since you're trying to keep your identity hidden.” Your eyes narrowed as you added, “Or do you just let yourself get dehydrated every time you're out? Because that's not good for you, you know.”

The Devil's grin grew wider as he shifted on the couch, facing you even more from his place on the cushions. “Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “You've thought about me before, have you?”

Eyes dropping down to your lap, you smiled sheepishly as you shrugged. “I mean, I've had some theories circulating about you ever since you kept reappearing in the news,” you admitted awkwardly. “Sort of hard not to.”

“Well now you have to indulge me,” he teased. “Enlighten me on some of these theories of yours.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued to avoid his covered stare. “I mean, they're not that interesting…”

“Oh come on,” he tried again. “It's not like we don't have the time. And maybe I can confirm or deny some of them for you. Besides, I admit I’m curious to know what you think of me. Especially being so willing to offer help like you did.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. He looked far less intimidating beneath your blush pink blanket now. What would it hurt if you told him a few of your ideas about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe he might laugh at them, but would hearing that sound again be all that bad? And it truly would be interesting to learn more about the mysterious vigilante, something you'd probably never have the opportunity to do again. 

“Okay,” you agreed with a nod. Straightening up on the couch, you turned to face him more fully. “So I've always thought with the way that you fight that you were trained by some sort of secret ninja assassin organization.”

A hearty chuckle filled your living room at your first theory. The pleasant and resonant noise left you grinning as your stomach fluttered in response. You briefly wondered how often the Devil actually laughed when he was out. 

“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” he responded. 

The playful smile that kept appearing on his face was beginning to further disarm you. You found yourself enjoying his company, soon becoming used to the way half his face was hidden from sight with that ridiculous fabric. And for some reason your unexplainable attraction to him was only growing. 

“Next theory,” he prodded, the smile on his face apparent even in his voice. 

“You're not wealthy,” you stated, leaning forward and grabbing your tea from the coffee table.

“Oh, ow,” he joked, playfully recoiling back from you on the couch. “What makes you say that?”

You waved a hand at him across from you as you settled back into the cushions, mug in hand. “Because you wear clothing that is obviously not meant to protect you very well in a fight,” you answered. “I imagine if you had money you'd have something…nicer. Meant for what you do. And,” you continued, pausing long enough to drink down some of your now barely warm tea, aware of him focused on you, “you protect Hell’s Kitchen. Only Hell’s Kitchen. This part of the city isn't exactly filled with the wealthiest people. And with how dedicated you are to everyone here, I assume it's because you probably grew up here yourself. Most likely still reside here, too.”

The Devil hummed appreciatively when you'd quieted, his masked gaze still on you. You swore you could feel it as you drank down more of your tea.

“You're observant,” he mused. “Maybe I need to watch myself around you.”

A surge of pride swelled in your chest; you hadn't expected his praise. Or the way it would make you feel. And apparently, you'd guessed something right about him. 

“You're also not married or in a serious relationship,” you blurted before you could help yourself, wondering what more you could learn about him.

“Poor and unlovable?” the Devil asked with a surprised laugh. “That's what you think of me?”

“No,” you disagreed, laughing a little with him as you shook your head. “No, but I mean, I imagine you don't have time for someone else. And I figure most people wouldn’t like their partner going out and doing what you do. Putting yourself in danger.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, shifting on the couch and making himself more comfortable. “A partner would certainly be…a distraction. A liability. One I couldn't really afford to have. So no, you're not wrong, I don't have one.”

You glanced down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the mug in your hands. Half of you was hoping to hear that he wasn't with anyone–though you refused to admit to yourself why that mattered–but the other half of you had heard the way he'd said that a partner would be a distracting liability and you’d felt a sad pang hit you in the chest. Considering how much he seemed to be enjoying your company when he didn't even know you had you guessing that the Devil was a lonely man deep down. 

But that wasn't a theory you felt comfortable sharing. 

“Any others?” he asked, breaking through your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you focused back on him across the couch from you. His smile had disappeared, his lips now downturned at the corners just a bit. His posture had changed in your silence, the same as his mood, as if he'd picked up on the subtle change in yours somehow. 

Strange.

“I imagine you're the kind of guy who's fridge is always empty,” you answered.

A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face as he huffed out an amused breath. You couldn't fight the smile returning to your own lips at the sight of his again. 

“Well hey now,” he countered lightly, “there's usually beer. Sometimes orange juice and eggs.”

You giggled, unable to stop yourself. “Who'd have guessed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is just your average bachelor?” 

“Average?” he repeated in mock offense, his head tilting to the side. “I'm just average now?”

Quirking a brow at him in a challenging manner, your own head cocked to the side. “Maybe tell me more about yourself and I could say otherwise,” you boldly teased back. 

“Well obviously,” he began, grinning at you in a way that had your body heating, “I can't exactly do that now can I? Defeats the purpose–

“Of remaining anonymous,” you finished for him. “I've picked up on the importance of that.” 

A silence soon settled between the pair of you, one that slowly began to cause your nerves to grow with the way he kept smiling at you. Once again you desperately found yourself wanting to see the rest of his face, curious to know just how handsome he really was under that black mask. Though you settled for studying what you could see, your eyes tracing the soft curves of his pink lips, noticing the way they very minutely twitched under your scrutiny. Eventually your gaze dropped down, following the hard lines of his stubbled jaw. As your eyes trailed further down, they lingered on the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the blankets he’d wrapped around himself for warmth. A heat burned in you as the urge to reach out and just touch him, just to see if he was real, suddenly grew within you. It didn't help that it almost felt like you could feel the weight of his own eyes fixed on you beneath the mask, once again making you very aware of your lack of bra beneath your sweatshirt.

Catching your lip between your teeth, you noticed the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. Had he been having similar thoughts? Observing you, too? 

Inhaling a sharp breath through your nose at the idea, you knew you needed to stop this line of thinking and stop it fast. There was absolutely no way the Devil would be interested in you. Certainly not like that. That was absurd.

“Would you like something to eat?” you asked, trying to calm your pulse. “If your fridge is empty all the time I'm guessing you could use something to eat.”

“I mean, I suppose if you’re–”

He stopped short the exact moment that the lights died, throwing the pair of you into almost complete darkness. You sucked in a breath, turning to look out the window just to your right. It was eerily dark outside, a sight that was rare in the city. Even the buildings across the street had been thrown into darkness. There was nothing but the howling wind and snow outside.

“Guess it was too much to hope the power wouldn’t go out in this mess,” you breathed out.

“I suppose so,” he replied, his tone just as soft.

Reaching blindly forward, you set your almost empty mug onto the coffee table before you. For a moment you reached around on the surface until your fingers brushed against your phone. You picked it up and unlocked the screen, grateful for the bit of light it shed in the dark as you turned on the flashlight function.

“So I can’t offer you a nice cooked meal without power,” you told him, rising to your feet, “but I can get you an apple and a couple of protein bars? If you’d…like?”

“You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it,” he said.

“It’s the least I can do for the man who does so much for the rest of us,” you told him, maneuvering around the couch and navigating your way to the kitchen by the light of your phone. “I’d feel awful leaving you hungry and dehydrated.”

Wrapping one arm around your chest to try to fight the chill that had been steadily creeping into you, you headed towards a cabinet near the sink. Reaching up, you grabbed a glass from out of it before taking a moment to fill it beneath the faucet before setting it along the countertop. Then you plucked an apple out of a fruit bowl on your counter, taking a moment to rinse it off first. The moment you’d turned off the faucet you heard his voice from across the apartment.

“You’re cold.”

For a moment you found it odd how his words hadn’t come out as a question but more of an observation, though you quickly shrugged the strangeness of that aside. You set the apple down on the counter beside the glass of water before sliding a step to your right and opening up another cabinet.

“It’s alright, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to shine the light from your phone into the cabinet to read the labels on the boxes. “I wasn’t the one out in that snowstorm wearing barely anything at all.”

“You say that like I was out there naked.”

His voice had unexpectedly come from just behind you this time and it jolted your heart in your chest instantly. His sudden proximity mixed with his word choice had you startling on the spot. Your hand that had been about to pull the box of protein bars out of the cabinet accidentally bumped it instead, causing the entire box to slip off of the shelf. But before it could tumble to the floor and spill its contents, a black gloved hand darted out beside your face, catching it before it had barely fallen six inches. 

You stood there rooted to the spot, his hand just brushing your arm as his held the box of protein bars. The hair on the back of your neck had risen, aware that he was standing barely a foot behind you now. Slowly, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. Your pulse quickened further at how close his face was to yours. He was looking at you, too. Or at least, he was facing you. Eyes dropping down, you couldn’t help but notice that mouth of his again. 

“I apologize,” he said, your eyes watching as his lips moved. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sometimes I forget how quiet I can be. I just wanted to give you one of the blankets. No sense in me using both when you’re cold.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to form any other response.

With his attention still on you, he reached up and slid the box back onto the shelf. Then he seemed to take a purposeful step back from you, his lips set in a straight line. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, because you were sure there had to be something. Had he felt the tension you’d just felt? Or were you just ridiculous and overly hopeful?

And why did it even matter? You were never going to see this man again after tonight anyway.

Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the shelf. Reaching up, you slid your hand into the box that had nearly taken a nosedive to your kitchen floor and pulled out two protein bars. Keeping your eyes actively focused away from the Devil nearby, you closed the cabinet and slid a step back to your left, grabbing the glass of water in your hand with your phone and the apple in the same hand as the bars. Though before you could turn around, you felt something gently drape over your shoulders. Looking down, you noticed it was the pink blanket he’d been wearing.

“Like I said,” he repeated, “there’s no sense in me using both.”

“Right,” you whispered, pulse pounding in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you stepped past him and made your way back to the living room by the light of your phone. This time you heard the heavy steps of him following after you. You assumed that was intentional.

“So why were you out in this blizzard tonight anyway?” you asked him, making your way around the couch. You hoped having something to talk about would distract you from whatever it was he kept stirring inside of you. “Surely there aren’t a lot of crimes being committed in this weather?”

The Devil let out a light laugh as he accepted the offered glass of water and food from you. One of your brows quirked curiously onto your forehead at his reaction as you sat back down in your original spot on the couch. Though you noticed as he took a large drink from the cup while lowering himself onto the cushions that he’d sat closer to you than before. You watched as he ripped open a protein bar and tore off a large bite next, but he didn't answer until a moment later when he’d swallowed the bite down. Internally you noted he must’ve been hungrier than he let on with the way he was devouring that bar and you’d wished you’d had more food to offer him with the power out.

“You’d be correct,” he told you. “And yet I still stupidly made my way out into this storm tonight in the hopes of catching a lead on something. Instead all I got was my ass frozen and my side bruised.” 

You watched as he took another large bite of the protein bar, chewing it almost contemplatively as his head canted to the side. You could still see him in the beam of light from your phone which you were still clutching in your hand. Somehow this lighting made him even more appealing as it cast sharp shadows along his jaw.

“Though I suppose unexpectedly meeting you was a highlight,” he added, causing your cheeks to flush. “But you know, you never did give me your name.”

“Well you never exactly gave me yours,” you immediately quipped back.

Those beautiful lips of his curved upwards yet again as he chewed the last bite of the first protein bar. What you wouldn’t give to see if that smile had reached his eyes.

“Alright, point taken,” he replied. 

Tearing your gaze away from him, you focused on your phone. If you kept the flashlight running the battery would die in no time. And who knew how long the power might be out for, you might need it later. You supposed you didn't need it on just for a conversation.

“I’m going to turn the flashlight off on my phone for now, if that's alright?” you told him, fingers darting across the screen to do just that. “Might need the battery on this later.”

“That’s alright,” he replied, sounding as if he was chewing another bite of food. “I don’t need it.”

He’d made the comment just as you’d leaned forward to set your phone back onto the coffee table, but you’d paused as the words processed in your mind. Your eyes narrowed again as your mind raced. Something about the way he’d said that sounded as if it had another meaning to it. But before you could put too much thought into it, he’d changed the topic.

“You’re still cold,” he pointed out. “That blanket alone isn't helping.”

Brows furrowing together as you slowly sat back, you wondered how he could possibly know that. The pair of you were in almost pitch black again with your phone flashlight off. It wasn't like he could see you and you hadn't been shivering, though there were definitely goosebumps dotting your skin. How could he possibly know? 

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket you had on tighter around yourself. “It’s bound to get colder here with the power out now.”

“And with how long you had your window open earlier,” he added. “The temperature is going to drop in here faster than it would have if you hadn’t helped me.”

You sighed, frowning in his general direction. “So much for being able to help you warm up,” you muttered. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he assured you.

It felt as if he was shifting on the couch nearby. Your brows knitted further together as you tried to make out what he was doing through the dark. All you could see was a faint mass of black that seemed darker than the rest of the blackness. Then moments later you felt a blanket being draped over your lap. 

“No, uh uh,” you said, shaking your head and immediately grabbing the blanket. “There’s two blankets, we can clearly share.”

“You’re freezing,” he countered. 

“And you’re not cold?” you shot back.

“Doesn’t matter, you’ve already been far kinder than I deserved this evening,” he replied.

You grabbed the blanket in your hands and stubbornly tossed it back in his general direction. An audible sigh sounded through the darkness to your left.

“You know I can just leave, right?” he told you. “Which would leave you with no reason to not use both blankets.”

Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound of his voice. “But then you’d be allowing more cold air into my apartment, which would only make the temperature drop faster in here,” you argued back. “Then I'd really be cold.”

He breathed out a laugh and you imagined the smile on his lips at the sound. You smiled triumphantly back at the dark shape of him because you knew you had a good point. Even though really, you could just layer on more clothes.

“Okay,” he relented. “That’s true. So how about…we share?”

The smile on your face quickly disappeared at his suggestion. Mouth dropping open, you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. It took you a few seconds to regain the ability to respond.

“Share?” you asked.

“Body heat would certainly keep us both warmer,” he answered. “So would sharing two blankets instead of using only one.”

“Oh, uh, well,” you stammered, your mind racing at the thought of your body pressed up against his. “I–I–”

His deep laugh rumbled towards you through the darkness, the sound causing your lips to clamp shut. 

“I’m not suggesting anything immoral,” he assured you. “Simply a possible solution to the very real problem of us freezing in here. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to leave?”

“No!” you exclaimed.

Immediately your eyes widened in horror at how quickly you’d responded to that. And judging by his chuckle, he’d also noticed, too. Your face scrunched up as you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so eager to keep him here in your apartment.

“Well in that case, we could share the blankets and our body heat,” he suggested again. “Because the temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees already and it's only going to continue if the power stays out.”

Nervously your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You were trying hard to control the racing of your heart, positive he could hear it with how hard it was beating now. Of course you weren’t going to pass up a chance to basically cuddle the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for warmth during a snowstorm. You just needed to find a way to not sound so eager to accept his offer first.

“I suppose you…have a point there,” you said slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “That’s–that’s usually what people do in survival situations. Use their body heat to keep warm.”

An amused huff came from him and you realized he’d scooted even closer to you on the couch. Your breath caught in your throat the moment you felt his thigh bump against yours.

“So are we in agreement with sharing both blankets, then?” he asked.

“That–that appears to be the most logical solution to the problem,” you answered. “So yeah, I guess we…share the blankets.”

Despite the lack of light, the Devil seemed to move with ease and fluidity through the darkness, something you were paying close attention to as he gently sidled his way up against the side of you, managing to wrap both blankets around the pair of you. All the while you’d sat pin straight on the couch, aware that he was flush to your side from your shoulder all the way down to your knee. You clasped your hands in your lap, unsure of where else to place them. Truthfully, you had to admit you were already much warmer like this, with his body heat enveloping you beneath both blankets.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone far gentler than it had been all evening. “Because that's not my intention.”

“No,” you answered with a light shake of your head. “You're not.”

He chuckled softly, his body shaking yours slightly with the movement. Your head turned towards him and you wished you could see at least the part of his face that was visible right now.

“Then why are you so tense?” he questioned. 

“I'm not tense!” you lied.

He laughed again, this time louder. The movement jostled you somehow further into his side, though your hand flew out and landed flat on his very solid chest as you tried to stop yourself from falling further into him. Your eyes widened in horror yet again, but before you could push yourself away you felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders and allowing you to sink even more into him. Heat was very much creeping up your neck and reaching your cheeks now in embarrassment. 

“You're very tense actually,” he teased. “If you're uncomfortable I can move, but we aren't going to be sharing much body heat if you don't actually sit next to me.”

Slowly you removed your hand from his chest, lowering it to your lap. Though with the way you were sitting facing partially towards him now, your knuckles were brushing against his thigh. 

“I am not tense,” you grumbled. “And you aren't making me uncomfortable. This is just…awkward. I barely know you and you don't know me.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “How about since you've guessed a few things about me, I think it's only fair you tell me a few things about yourself now.”

“I told you I'm not very interesting,” you reminded him.

“Ah, well,” he replied with a shrug, “I think I'd like to decide that for myself.”

Biting your lip, you turned your burning face and buried it into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see how nervous he'd suddenly made you. It was hard to tell if he was flirting with you or if that was just his vigilante persona–when he wasn't beating people, of course. 

With your nose pressed against the fabric of his shirt, you noticed he smelled surprisingly good. There was the hint of his sweat, but there was also a faint clean detergent scent. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, inhaling a deep breath in. Even though he was still a stranger and a vigilante, he seemed kind and safe so far. And he also hadn't thrown you off of himself for getting even closer to him, either. Maybe you should just do what he seemed to be doing: relax and enjoy the unexpected cuddles tonight with an unexpected acquaintance. 

“Alright, what do you want to know?” you whispered, eyes still closed as you focused on his scent.

Eyes fluttering open, you felt yourself waking from a deep, comfortable sleep. Though your eyes instantly snapped closed against the bright light that immediately assaulted them. Slowly you blinked them back open, trying to adjust to the surprising sunshine pouring through your living room window. Gradually you began to push yourself upright, realizing you were laying with your head on a couch pillow, both of your blankets snuggly wrapped around you. For a moment your face twisted into a look of confusion as you hesitated, staring down at the two blankets. Why had you been asleep on your couch?

But then flashes of last night came back to you. The masked man falling onto your fire escape. The joking and constant banter between the pair of you. Darkness when the power went out and the feel of his warm, muscular body wrapped around yours as he tried to keep you warm. The scent of clean detergent and his sweat. The feel of his spandex shirt against your fingertips and your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder.

Had that all really happened? Or had you just fallen asleep on your couch and dreamt it?

Your attention shifted towards your coffee table and your sluggish brain processed the sight of your almost empty mug of tea, left abandoned all night, and an empty glass of water. Pushing yourself the rest of the way upright on the couch, your head turned over your shoulder. The lock on your living room window was undone.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really had been in your apartment last night. Which meant the pair of you really had cuddled together for warmth when your power had gone out. And you really did meet him. At least, somewhat.

“Oh my God,” you breathed out in awe. “He was really here.”

But just as the rush of excitement at meeting someone you’d always secretly admired filled you, it quickly vanished. Because you must have fallen asleep on him sometime last night when the pair of you were talking, and then he must’ve slipped out of your apartment before the sun came up, probably when the power had come back on. Which made sense, considering he wouldn’t want to be seen sneaking back to his own apartment in such a conspicuous outfit. 

But what was upsetting you was the growing realization that it wasn’t just the first time you’d met him, but it would most likely be the last. And you’d gone and fallen asleep through part of that meeting.

Stupid stupid stupid.