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solacedeer · 3 hours

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A taste of Snow

pairing: reader x matias asbrink

summary: you thought joining matias on a walk to his private cabin away from the city would be a wonderful way to spend time together. and well, the process wasn't all that pleasing to reaching your destination, but your husband made it worth your while.

tags: female reader, almost hypothermia (this aint the main focus so it never happened), fluff, smut, emotional damage perhaps (its me i gotta), vanilla sex that gets a round two of rough sex :p, matias losing it a bit bc i need it, it turns sad btw, so angst. smut with angst in the end yes, no aftercare for this one

wordcount: +2500

notes: bear in mind i havent written for a long time so this is to get my gears going again. dividers by @/saradika || @altairring here u go bae

snow beckons under heavy boots. it is the crust of sky left on earth, shadows of what and who came to step across remained until more covertly hid the past with a kiss. trenches of autumn that passed too soon, trunks of trees long dead and void of health narrowed your gaze as you looked up, only to find the same cold white as below your feet. your breaths were of equal measure, asymmetrical and breezed back against the heat of your cheeks, just as dissolved in color as the rest of the world around you.

and the body you carry; heavy. heavy in its drenching furs and resilience against the shuddering vessels of wind, how it cuts at your skin, at your lashes. freezes even your tears, all of their warmth a disappearance of miracles as instead of salt and water to drag down your face are particles of ice forbidden by human nature to create.

but forward you push, step after step. the arm to guide you at your tightly wound waist by heavy leathered belt pulses with the embrace it wants to give, but instead of grasp a corner eyed vision of his profile you shiver, teeth gritting tight so as to not stutter against eachother, eyes directed at God above to ask for renewed strength in your legs, for another willing breath to enter your lungs, despite its icicles slicing straight through your throat.

“we’re not too far off now, beloved.” his voice slides against your pain striken ears, a source of unexpected warmth that starts a hiss deep in your trembling chest. you clutch your hands to the place beneath your jaw, let yourself be directed closer to his ribs, under his arm, where the whirlwind is a kinder being, stopped in its tracks by a body that knows of its betraying nature, of the knives and daggers that send to human flesh weakness and hunger. there’s no reply from you, as you cannot muster the diluted thought you envision. the ever step forward is all that remains, as you clutch at what rest for yourself you have left.

wisps of wind taste like eternity, never ending slashes of cold that was never a friend, angels long forgotten to be thought about as your body braves the weather, your very being sullied by the terror that such blinding white brings to the pupil. so, so cold that you’re burning, half awake in your brazen state, vulgar are the tear stains you left behind on your face, the ice they became engraved into skin. half held by a man that has slept with such terror, bones and flesh already tasted and sharpened diamonds against the unforgiveness of it all; the looming dead trees that keep nobody company but him, unshaken teeth and resilient cold eyes, blond silver blending with the winds that come of all axes of the compass. he converts you under his weight, allows you to fall into the mindless helplessness that comes after you, foregoing your heavy clothes, and heavier limbs as succumbing to the unforgiving seems darlingly favourable.

unconsciousness was grappling your mind. the shattering of your bones macabre.

but saved you are.

and you’re held with safety, as the first ever step forward you took was not ankle deep snow, but hard, and heavy wood.

the air was a pulp of fire, the center of your foot was aflame. heard or seen, you could not comprehend. your skin was a disease to the warmth that spread all over your, washed you, kissed your eyelids with licks of gentleness.

under yourself the floor was nonexistent suddenly. your cowering body now afloat, two pairs of hands digging through your clothes, the layers of snow that seeped through like nightmares until they licked your skin. your nose touched by light, by a cologne deemed worthy of must and leather, deeply pleasing even. like a gush of forgiveness, it cleanses your rancid cold, the valleys of tears your eyes left behind, with tips of fingers so warm, you wander, plunder ideas after what magic might this flesh commence.

“i got you….i got you now.”

matias wasn’t a man of many regrets, if any at all.

straightforward, particular to his core, steeled with a pair of eyes to match wisdom and judgement. approval as cold as mountain tops, he watches over the weak and unjust both, with mercy, with righteousness he delivers sentences. to his bone, to where he begins and ends, his skin is made with snow pressed into it, for it is fair, it makes one with the emptiness, with the endless blessings of quiet death, a plain of tundra land of nowhere, a land that forgets those of high status. perseverance in finality, a never ending end to those forests that stretch for months, forward, forward, high to the land of God.

but with you, now in the picture. his forever only, your smile— his glimpse of paradise, and your eyes, the flutter of your lashes, a lullaby to be studied.

he broods over the cup he softly adds honey to. ginger and lemon heat floats above the mouth, the tea mixed together by the small spoon adding flavour to the clean and freshly wooden scent of the cabin.

regret belittles him in his heart. sorrow weakens his steps, his posture, his pride. now you lay helpless under the heaviest of blankets he managed out of the little closet in the private room of the enclosure, still shivering and weak in speech, as you doze away, either half awake or asleep. your body at the mercy of warmth you seem to refuse, cold sweat at your forehead. whether you wanted the blanket to overt over you fully or throw it in the fireplace, neither him nor you could tell what you want, it was obvious.

the warmth radiating much like their breaths cold outside engulfs his hand as the cup is carried, still having its contents mixed with quiet occasional clinks. and a few steps he needs to take, there you are again, a cause lost finally to the growing heat of the bundle of blankets. the couch is long, fitting enough for the entire mass of thick wools and leathers sewn together by hands and needles, now grasped onto for support, so that your eyes may flutter so beautifully up at his arrival.

he had no choice but to awaken your poor little soul. the wooden floorboards are old, respected by time as their luscious texture has deteriorated, now giving the luxury away for familiarity, for a taste of home atop heavy snow of ice ages.

"sweetheart, how are you faring?" matias soothes with a word of timidity, his body lowered so his tone may not find fear in your heart.

but your eyes look at him so beautifully, enchanting in their riches. a flutter of lashes, the half lid blink as your face is caressed by home, by newly comforts. his hand almost spills the contents of the cup, trembling for an uncontrollable second in dire need to feel the texture of your skin against his knuckles his cold hands to prickle your form, may the fair hair on your body rise at command on his presence. yet, self control is weak, his throat dries of words, and his tongue aches for a cavern to lick.

blue eyes made of steel regard you with humility, and you lightly adjust your source of warmth. "ah, i have regained most of myself i find." you hush over the first blanket you have around you, tucked snugly under your chin as you shine your marvelous attention over him, wash him of his sins in an instant. "these blankets are truly a dream." your laugh airy, your eyes crinkling like sparkles as they close.

the fire crackles in the background, a welcoming atmosphere of the room. carpets and tablecloths of foreign origin for you surely, ornate and gorgeous nonetheless. an orange glow settles, coating the late hours of the dark winters outside with oranges and yellows, and so are you saved, held in the embrace of unforgiveness, the foreign land that does not welcome you, nor reject.

"that's wonderful to hear." matias breathes with his entire body, and with that same ease, he falls to his knees so he may lay lower than yourself, for his height is of no importance when you're befallen by the threat of sickness close by.

"i should have foreseen such events." he swears under his breath, "should have known your body couldn't withstand the temperatures," hands leaving the cup behind on the coffee table in a rush, "the road to such a far away place. my darling, i am sorry it has come to this." so they may find your hands quick to clasp, quicker to bring to his mouth and lavish in kisses.

but matias is carrying many a fights within himself. his lips linger on your knuckles, his teeth wish to drag across indents of crescent moons with love and adoration.

he does not know what shall be heavier; his lust a battle of betrayal of his most instincts, his stomach caving at the thought of himself warming your body up, his cold hands to be warm for when you need them, at the service of your wishful movements, of your body as it arches into him, or the intellect of behaviour, of seclusion and the control he demands of himself. the hands he rubs against his face, his long dream beckoning of reality as your flesh is so real in his hold, your fingers sliding with perfection between his, his wife's hands, the one and only, still warm, still well and alive.

"matias,.... i am well now. please, do not worry." your hush, his lovely counted sheep. he has dreamt of you for so long, and now the fear was annihilation, he could taste his judging sentence already, and fear ahs never been this strong before.

"matias." you cup his cheek, risen from his lamentation he is. 'raise your head' your touch says, and he does so within its action means to end the world if you so desired.

but he sees it. that same belittling sentiment in your eyes; the sensual fight of instinct. his chest caves with wishfulness, fulfillment, and he soon finds the side of his head cradled by your hand, through light blonde tresses of hair, fingers traveling between thoughts, detangling frustrations, isolations. and your gaze, godly mortal flesh, every lash refined by holy hands, stories of spring and blooms of fairy tales the that orange glow of your eye. a wanton sentiment, silence as his knees rest on the old creaky floorboards.

with his breath held, he waits, and you watch him wait. you do not blink as his breath catches in his throat, as his skin warms to your touch from your decadence, you drag him along. irresistible, ecstatic glory awaits him if he is to listen to your coomand.

"join me, matias." you say, with such loss of breath, like his name is the last thing you wished to word before dying.

and before you can regain a semblance of your serene consciousness, he has joined you, beneath mountains of blankets, of heat and comfort. in his arms you're fastened, tightened, held with love that the world has yet to understand. your undergarments, as they are the only reserved material upon your body worthy to keep, raised, crumpled by greedy, clawed hands, your flesh partaking in its role as prey once matias regains your eyes through a kiss that blinds logic, and your sense of judgement. your sentence is punishment, and the the mouth to deliver jurisdiction finds the depths beyond your teeth with a tongue too eager to rob you of your breaths. pressed to his chest, your neck taken hold of with a palm so big, caresses your mind as you're kissed senseless, gladly left your body to burn such fire, elicit and somber between your legs, never subdued, always keen to rise and turn your nerves with excitement.

your hands attempt to hold onto anything of his body, crazy in love with the shivering ripples of his spine when you caress him so, touch his ribs, look for your missing place, the scar you left behind as you taste the ice, the glaciers up north. the roof of your mouth made his with holy muster. the back of your teeth fantastically loved, your hip benevolent to his clawed violence, beloved and endearing as you're squeezed, needed, taken.

but he does not say a word. saliva coats your lips as you're finally allowed a single breath, blissed eyes rolled back as icy strands of hair temper the hot skin of your cheeks. "m-matias... woah, hah...."

he feels violence. something drastic in his bloodstream, maddening when your body is in the palm of his hand. his eyes open and you're truly but prey in the collosum of his gaze, petrified by that unhinged logic with which he watches you. something controlled within him, even as he trembles when you utter his name, rake your nails with memories into his pale, so so pale skin.

a hand cradles you between the legs, the heel of that palm right against your belly, soft and tender when he presses down. and you wonder what he's looking for, what those pair of pale lashes never flutter closed for. scalding to the touch the both of you are, the trembling bodies so hungry to reconnect, closer than skin to skin will ever allow.

he finds it easy to caress you, easier even when he drags a long finger between gates of paradise, because you are eager and darling for him, ready already.

and your little mewl, so sweetheart it thrums his heart like a song, if you only knew. your weak lean of your head back against the pillow, your lazy closed eyes, the loss of energy once he capitulates his movement, the soft sound of his breach where you are soft, where you are ashamed.

that is where he wants to live. but he does not tell, his tongue lays heavily in his mouth, but how he wishes to say, sing you adorations and hymns of love and beauty. eternity truly is where your thighs clamp his wrist, lock him out of instinct as you mold movements of allure right against him. how deep inside he can push, he knows you'd let him, look at him with eyes of loosened reason, take him by the sides of his neck and drag him down, open your mouth and let him spill all his moans right against your tongue. you desire him entirely, your hubris his to collect.

"you're still a bit cold..." you say, cradling his face with treasured sentiments.

"Come closer, love." how impossible was your request, deliberate and touched upon his heart. his vision melts with your voice, his reason a dissolving mechanism for you to cradle his neck, your thumbs to rub security into his cheeks as he devours a place in your neck, makes it his home. that breathing chest of yours, your ribs a mass of bones and flesh that fits in his hand, crescent moon after crescent moon his fingers count and your back arches, long dawn in the middle of the earth, where sunset never approves of befalling and sunrise has never existed; your body recreates phenomenons right in his grasp, that fearful grasp of his that has never held the sun so close, afraid you'll melt into his hand.

of you nothing but liquid to remain, his forever home and future. so, he nestles further into your shoulder, closes his eyes and revels into the embrace of desperation you conceal him with.

your legs, miracles as they find his hips to wrap around. your nails trace trails and roads into his scalp, counting out his thoughts and banishing them.

"you absolve me of all logic." he musters deeply, a man starved. your hot, scorching breath against his ear and your teeth tug, smile at your lips. words are heavy to construct, and your heat is so close to him, that sunlit depth of a woman he has wished for all his life. "i lose all reason because of you..." he merely breathes, eyes closed by the hands of bliss.

he silently moans, surprised by the sudden crave of carnality, the sudden last straw. your hand has taken him firmly, he is soothingly stroked by softness. "have you thought that perhaps, this is what i wanted?"

"you're so greedy."

he lies to himself. you could never match his want. deep enough to rip apart bedsheets with fingers and teeth, for shivers and moans of pleasure to break all restrains.

he wants you.

wants to feel your body accommodate him, leave you with a broken gasp after he has clawed his way in, narrowly taking all of your dignity by its limits and breaking it. much like the wind, render you immobile, bones weak, body weak weak weak, touch you everywhere all at once. to the deepest inside you can muster, suffer for a bit of himself to be left where only he is allowed. and how above the law you must feel, higher than the world, a throne not of winners, but of gentle force, that subtle art of non humanity matias wished to experience all his life. how special must you be, body mind and soul to let him become a slave to your and his desires.

he broke teeth and minds to crack the steel bars of this world's enclosure. and yet here you are, melting them with a hot breath against his cheek, a call of his name so breathless only hunting northern vultures would hear.

"yes, that, i am, matias." you laugh like a symphony, and much like a defrosted river in summer, you liquify movement against his hand, against where he is sensitive. "but you are who i will ever want."

all it took was a mere collapse. on your back you were turned, legs further spread apart from that shy menace of a tease it was before, to fit his sheer size, all of that weight and muscle able to withstand heavy winters, devils calls into the empty white ether of snowstorms. you are swallowed by a size unimaginable, and a kiss that robs you of all arguments, had you ever had any.

just as smoothly, his girth was a striking shock to your body. perhaps a bit unkind, but a kiss so blinding it was criminal took your last sense. and matias moaned so deeply, so wanton yet disrespectful as he left it at the base of your tongue, as he pushed himself in, deeper, and deeper so fast you were not sure what to grasp onto.

control has long abandoned you, at the mercy of your vindicator of justice, the last judge before that lawful adjournment could reach its end. matias ends your existence entirely, the icy drag of his strands of hair, his nose like a tickling feather mocking peace across the heat of your cheeks as his kiss deepens, his tongue reaching further, for your last answer.

"you shouldn't have said that, sweetheart." your jaw was taken ahold of, and your mouth opened wider even, your eyes so trustingly closed, no fear was left in that arched, giving back of yours as his other arm wrapped around you, right where it fit, that massive hand splayed, open, searching for those delicious tremors your body suffers because of his intrustion.

"s- i'm.....i'm sor-"

"no you're not."

his thrust was delivered like a blow to the head; maddening and numbing as you moaned in tandem with him from electrifying pleasure, a row of ecstasy up your spine as you're kissed right through it. "i do not like it when you lie."

"yes, yeah, uh-huh-"

matias was restless. a turbulent mess himself, thoughts so impure he did no longer know which were true and which were lies. but he knew how soft you were. you were limitless, surrounding him from everywhere, in warmth, in thick dripping sweet delight, in sunlight like your smile always promises. and even when it was impossible, hips flush against yours, your knees up his sides and stomach to stomach, he could not find it in himself to force deeper; your sweat scented by the cold outside, fever prominent because of him and him alone. how beautiful it is, to be so wanted to the point of trembling lips, kissed with force enough to render lungs useless, of trembling eyes, barely open.

why could it ever be the notion of heaven created for the world? to compare to experiences of this mediocre life? for an idolization of death perhaps? matias was no filozopher, preferring the notions of reality and logic to anything. and so... why do thoughts of heaven and bliss fill his mind?

your body was a promise of heavenly beliefs, a decadence and belittling of religious ideologies; as you were very real in his arms. and logic appreciates your existence. a mess of your hair and a light so loving and kind in your half lazily lidded eyes that it could kill him.

so tender, so striking, weak in his arms, matias kisses you like the sun kisses his moon goodnight, again and again, as the pace is settled by your soft mewls.

with time, they get more and more eager, painting his chest, his heart and lungs and stomach in flowers that his land has never seen, he tastes you wholeheartedly like you were a sweet fig, a sweet date he only ever tasted when traveling far, far away from home.

but you were salvation; rapture was benevolent with the both of you, and matias found his pace, one to match that enthusiastic gasp that he reveled in.

your body flush, clinging to his body, to his sense as you had no more, eyes meet and even they kiss in between the distance there is between.

"how are you feeling...." he couldn't muster more if he tried. his throat was shackled by your complexity, your mere existence enough to send delight in his muscles. rough, husky, a groveling voice that your gaze enchanted after.

"matias...."

ah, his deathbed, that you were.

"matias.....i'm so close i could-.....hah.."

his thrusts were getting weak, his own resolve a dismantle left uncovered, in pieces behind him. rippling gratification, that unraveling knot of orgasm threatening him fast approaching limit.

but hands were running over his shoulders. the knuckles of such fine fingers, running over skin that has known nothing but snow and ice all life, now meeting this tender compassion, a care over his rapid pulse that it dragged another groveling groan out of his chest. immediately those hands of your were brought to his mouth and kissed, licked and bitten, his nose at the pulse of each of your wrists.

"come inside me." you breathe into him.

"i want you inside." you respond.

"deep, deeply inside of me." you promise in his ear, and you deliver him into your shoulder, where his home is, where you defy all his judgement and disarray his logic.

on command, he gasps against your skin. his teeth plunge into flesh and rupture fiber. your nails recalculate themselves into places in his back, aggression from body onto body, you loosen and welcome what is to come. how he licks the wounds he leaves behind onto you, one last conscious effort of care before the plunge into carnality surrenders both of you to the sinful nature of what you are. and how lovely that is, to fall like angles because that is all you can muster, all you have known. aside sense, all that is left is matias and his arms, him and his body and his bones and his eyes and his tongue and his mouth, all tender still as the peak recedes, and calmness rushes to retake its place in breathing.

he is shaking slightly, and so are you, as you are swallowed by sensation; that fulfillment, your weak cry of sensitivity as his hand sneaks between you two, to feel your belly.

"m-matias, you're still-" you shriek and squirm away on instinct, reflexes cold and preplexed as the world shifts again, your hips up, chest and face against the plush of the blanket nest you have around you.

"please, again, my love. i have to-" he sounds awfully mournful as he thoroughly fucks himself into you again, obstruction lost, all that made your husband gentle and soft abandoned as he burrows his forehead into the same pillow you drool over, his arms taking ahold of you so tightly, harshly, you find it a miracle you can still breathe despite the abuse your body manages.

there's nothing more you can do, your throat at a loss of ragged breaths as overwhelming stimulation blurs your eyes with tears. he's unforgiving now, a beast truly in his own right. nowhere to run, your insides nothing but a mess of mixed fluids, thick and morbidly delightful when you feel them drip between your folds, collecting at your neglected clit, slowly paving a way down all the way to your stomach.

and how you could feel that hot slick sensation run down and down, matias merely holding tighter onto you, lost in his own pleasure, merely spilling himself more and more into you as he fucks himself thoroughly through his ow orgasm, and yours as well.

only you could no longer voice it. overstimulated beyond escape, your body merely accepts his every snap of hips, that relentless loss of humanity a beast is known for.

you'd think this sentiment would be rooted in his ruthless deliverances of justice in a court of law, all that you admired, loved, treasured most in your husband, what he craved a place for in his heart for you to fit into, has perhaps been forgiven, forgotten for this one unleashed moment. and possibly, only with you did he know this forgotten facade of a human could be truly revealed, all that chains a man to limits are bound to break somehow.

from you distant haze, you felt yourself filled again with that sensation. that blend of orgasm and pain, a settling of revere, the finish line that came too soon.

a distant cold ranked up your neck.

he has been long forgiven, his frost kiss the much needed balm to your fever.

"matias...."

"i'm here." he sorrowfully belittles himself, and in all his regret, he cradles your face, rolling his fingers after your tear stains you had no memory of.

no more power to utter a single word, you open one eye half way. find the man that has gotten your heart between his teeth, skin so light, kissed by your fever, by the sweat of effort, color shaming his face as his gaze cannot meet yours. that, or is it embarrassment? you are too delicately touched right now; too softened. inside of you still, he collects you

".....just hold me. please."

but with all that gentleness, that slow care.

it won't be enough this time, once more.

you pushed it, again.

you dared, again.

#matias asbrink #ikepri act 3 #uhhh #ikepri smut #also angst #Mimi’s brain ✨

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