Alyosha x reader | 2k words | Fluff, one bed trope | pt2 here
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟
You regret leaving home. You really do.
Running around upon a blanket of snow, you really weren't dressed for the weather—well, you were. You were adequately clothed for a snowfall, the usual weather of Snezhnaya. Truly, it is hard to forecast A FUCKING BLIZZARD. One that seems to come and go unnnounced.
So? What were you to do? Sit tight in a ditch? Get snowed to death out on the frozen lake? Hide out in some abandoned cabin where you could easily happen upon an unfriendly fae gang that wouldn't mind drinking your blood for water? Even better, get stuck in a cave with heaven knows what sort of monster ready to tear at you as its long overdue food delivery?
Truly, the worst time to have left your home. Whatever the urgency of that reason was mattered little now.
The snow is seeping in through your skin; it feels as if your limbs are numbing. Are you even running? It is hard to tell. The snow blows in your face with such vigor that it's blinding. You keep running until you happen to see light! A warm, orange-ish hue luminescing through this veil of rushing pale.
And so you run—well, as much as you can—through the blizzard. Till you heard a man behind you yell, "DOWN!" You whip around, yet your vision blurs as your body hits the snowy ground with a thud.
"Where are you off in a hurry to, little prey?" Said the stern voice. The blizzard seemed to have calmed down as his voice became clearer. You didn't know what to focus on first: the man's question or the gun that was kissing your chin.
You stammer. The first thing to come out of you is a cough. A terrible one, at that. The blizzard has gone, swept away by its own wind. Yet your body still aches, your limbs hurt—and the man weighing down your lower half doesn't help at all. He nudges his weapon higher, brushing against your lips, allowing you a taste of metallic victory—Could this be a threat?
Your mind is racing. 'Shit, shit, shit, how do I tell him I'm not a thief? Oh fuck, I must've looked suspicious. Ah, god is this it? Will this man end me... or worse..?' You shudder to think what a male stranger would do with a vulnerable person, such as yourself, out in the snowscapes. Alone.
Yet, it seems he discerned the panic in your eyes. He got up and backed off. Instead, he was now at your side, looking down at you. At all of you.
Seems a light bulb went off in his head as he realised you are not who he was after—it seems the blizzard laid a labyrinth for him as well. He acted quick.
"I'm sorry!" The gunman blurts. He hastily hoists you up bridal style. "Allow me to take care of you." Was all he could urge out of himself, already looking around for a trail.
But your heart couldn't take it anymore. Exhaustion wrung out through your used limbs as you fell asleep in his arms. He felt warm and safe—Which is pretty odd, considering how you were deathly afraid of him a second ago. However, you had not the luxury to ponder that thought for it all went blank.
A groan escapes your cracked lips. You tussle and turn to the sound of sheets ruffling beneath you. An equally distributed warmth weighs over you. Closing your eyes shut harder, you hear the sound of panting. Or is it heavy breathing? Whatever it is does not add up with your previous situation, not at all!
You jolt awake, sitting up. But the room is empty. You glance around this unfamiliar setting to find the source of that sound, which was... a dog? A fucking dog??
Upon noticing your actions, it immediately came to your side, placing its two paws onto your bedside as it began to sniff you, which soon went into a bit of hand licking as you petted its fur.
But that made the doggo back off and bark at you. Leaving you baffled as it sauntered towards the door and opened it???
Leaving you all alone in this stranger's cabin. The walls were filled with all sorts of things. The place was well heated, and memorabilia littered all over. Soon you heard a set of hurried footsteps approach.
With that same voice, now a lot softer and more concerned, right outside the door. Coming closer. "The person's awake, already?!"
As soon as it was said, the two barged in, giving you quite the fright.
After exchanging glances, a certain silence befalls you two. Gathering your strength, you croak:
"Who are you—"
"My apologies for pointing my hunting rifle at you!" The two of you spoke at the same time; his hushed apology soothed your heart. But why? He almost killed you. Just because he looked good doing it doesn't give him a pass—JUST WHAT THE HECK AM I THINKING OF???
As you sit there, stunning yourself into silence. He comes closer. "I was out hunting. I am Alyosha, a hunter. I was out on a hunt, you could say, and while I was out on the tail of a foe, I got caught in that unforeseen blizzard." He seemed repentant and apologetic. Body language much more approachable. He seemed very sweet for some reason. Very reasonable and cuddleable—Oh, for the love of Her Majesty, have some fucking dignity! His soothing, yet stern voice continues. "The same one you were caught in."
Alyosha took off his gloves and hovered his hand before your forehead. Hesitation, or perhaps it was out of respect. "May I conduct a proper yet brief health inspection?" To which you nod, not wanting to strain your voice further.
He brings his cold hand to your temples—wish it were his lips instead—his gaze focused. Soon he moves on to your neck, placing two thick and deft fingers at your jugular for a good read of your pulse. Which slightly raised his brows.
You watch as his eyes drag along your body, probably looking for wounds or cuts—you silently wish it were for another, dirtier reason—but your clothes seem undamaged, so no cuts, it seems. Suddenly feeling shy and ashamed for your own perverted thoughts, a slight whine escapes your lips as his eyes snap back onto yours. Worried.
"You aren't actively bleeding from any open wounds, which is good. However, your pulse is racing. Does your throat hurt?"
You nod. He leaves your side to tend to a kettle. You sit up, leaning back onto the headboard as you watch the two creatures before you. The man—Alyosha, was his name?—was fixing up some herbal tea for, presumably, the two of you.
The dog looked so adorable, just sitting there in his own corner. Wanting to ask about it, you opened your mouth to speak; instead, a series of coughs exited your body. Violent ones, at that.
Immediately, Alyosha whips around and comes to your side to aid you in any way possible. His hands hover near your figure, in case something happens. Without a thought, just for extra warmth perhaps, you reach out for his arm, holding onto him as you shiver and cough.
"Don't fret too much. This is a common cold you have. The tea should be ready soon, alright?" His finger drew long and slow lines on your arm to soothe you. Gently coaxing you into releasing him from your grip. "Once you finish a cup or two, we can resume our conversation, okay?" He smiles, making eye contact with you. Lightly laughing at your eager response. Nodding to him.
While he's preparing that, you turn your attention to the dog. Who's approaching you again. Seeing how its master is so comfortable around you, it is giving you a second chance.
While you are occupied with the dog on the left side of the bed, the bed's weight on the right side dips. You look over to see him holding two mugs in his hands.
Stretching one towards you, watching as you gratefully accept it. The two of you drink in silence, recovering. Your airways open up as that warmth in your chest swells. This herbal drink fueled the near-smoldering flame within you.
By the second cup, you feel as if you are ready to talk. And he notices; of course he does—all hunters have keen eyes—because he smiles at you and asks if you want a refill.
"No thank you, good sir. You have already done me a great favour by truly nursing me back to health." After placing the mugs down, he turns to face you, leaning his body against the table.
"It is the least I could have done." Alyosha cocks his head to the side, crossing his arms. "However, I would have done that for anyone. Therefore, I still owe you one." He asserts, following up his previous statement.
You hum, recalling how he pushed you into the snow. Filling you with this odd warmth, which was overwritten with valid fear. You push the covers off of yourself, trying to get up as you swing your legs to the side of the bed. He rushes to your side.
"Uhm—don't, shit, uhh. That's not the best idea—!" You stumbled, almost falling onto that barking mess. He caught you in his arms. Practically embracing you, holding onto your waist a lot tighter than necessary, as he breathed a sigh of relief against the top of your head.
You lean against his shoulder, as the throbbing in your calves and lower limbs thrums stronger each passing heartbeat. The soles of your feet ache with calluses and have most likely reddened.
You whisper a meek apology. This day truly isn't yours.
"You gave me quite the fright! Please, refrain from walking any time in the foreseeable future. You'll only injure yourself."
"Yeah, I realised that now." You pout, slightly mad that he's right once again. His hold on you loosened now that he heard you speak, but neither of you truly complained about the current position.
Except for a certain fluff ball who weasled his way between your legs, soon going behind Alyosha and putting both his paws onto his back, stand on its hind legs.
You giggle. "Is it giving you a hug?"
To which the man joins in. "Seems so. Ah! My apologies, I have forgotten to introduce you to him. Now, please lie back down, for we will be stuck together for a while."
You rapidly blink in confusion at the latter part of his statement, yet the fucker carries on like it's the most obvious fact in the world. "So, anyways. This is Tugarin, my hunting partner. He does not like to be petted." He laughs, kneeling down to ruffle the dog's fur.
"Yeah, I figured after he barked at me." You side-eye the dog. "So, how about we address the elephant in the room?"
He stands up, looking at you a little confused, before it clicks in his mind. Wow, the guy sure catches on quickly.
"Ah, my apologies once more. Of course you wouldn't know about it. If you did, you wouldn't have left your house." He quips. And you gasp, thinking, 'Why am I catching a stray?'. But he quickly moves on. AS if he didn't just personally attack you.
"That blizzard is expected to worsen overnight. And I overheard, while out securing some extra supplies for the next few days of shut-in, that it is forecast to storm around for the next day or two."
Slumping back into your (his) bed, you groan. "Fuuuuuuuckk.'
Well, that complicates the situation, doesn't it? With the everlasting, soul-sucking snowstorm right outside your door, you're stuck with this stranger, or acquaintance Alyosha, his dog, Tugarin, and one fucking bed.
This truly wasn't your day.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟
©Yeiwo7 Do not use my work as your own or feed it to AI. I will personally find u fucks and skin you alive if you do.
[I just did both acts and safe to say my head is reeling from information.]
[Should I continue this?—edit: I did, pt2 is up and linked to this fic at the top~]
