okay here's the ao3 link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/53067277
The World Shines (As I Cross The Macon County Line)
banner cred to @cafekitsune!!
Will Graham/Reader
Synopsis: You convince Will to cuddle with you because it's cold and you love him.
A/N: Okay so this is my first real FF that I'm posting ever and it's not beta read so if there's mistakes just pretend they're not there mkay thanks. Not rly a songfic but there is a song in it and that song is Going To Georgia by The Mountain Goats. Also this is my official bid for someone to buy me an I Heart Bingo mug. Also also gonna post this to AO3 as soon as i get my acc sorted, and ill link it here.
Word Count: 1105
Warnings: an embarrassing amount of domesticity
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The canopy of darkness was beginning to lift from the closed yet sheer curtains that shifted when your shoulders brushed against it. The Virginia morning winter was harsh and you knew it would only get harsher as the hours passed the day away. In some way, you felt bad about moping around the kitchen while Will was out at work, but you knew it would only be a matter of time before January cleared and you could start again trying to convince one of the libraries in Maryland to hire you for over the minimum wage.
What would not happen nearly as fast as you pleased was the water that was stuck under 100 °C in the kettle, boiling. Sighing, you turned up the stove.
Music drifts throughout the almost frigid air, around tinny, plywood walls, and it meets your ears in a soft resounding pattern. After the kettle starts to whistle, you sing along in quiet victory.
“...The most extraordinary thing in the world, I have two big hands and a heart pumping blood,” You pour the water into your ‘I ♡ BINGO’ mug. Today would be an English Breakfast day, just like every other day. A good day.
You feel the dogs settled beside your feet rise and move toward the front of the house, shortly before hearing the door open. A few beats pass counted by soft thuds on the floor growing louder and Will moves to meet you where you stand. His rough hands wrap around your waist from behind you, and his chin nestles in your shoulder. The song begins its second verse.
“More bass today. Not bad for this weather, I think,” He breathes into you. You turn to face him, and his hands never leave your body.
“Your hands are cold,” Will tries to move away but you free one of your hands to trap him against you. He turns his head to huff a laugh but you catch his face and press his grinning lips to yours. You hum into him.
“I think it might be up to us to keep each other warm,” You take another sip of your tea. “Maybe I could convince you to stay in for the rest of the day?”
Will brings his head up to glance at the ceiling, the look he gives when he’s already resigned himself to you.
“I’ve got to chop wood for the fire, darlin’. You know I can’t-” You shush him.
“Again, I’m not sure having a fire will matter when we’re-,” Your only free hand reaches down to palm his ass, “So close already.” It was really an unnecessary ploy on your part, because as you began speaking he gently pulled the mug from your hands and set it on the counter behind you. Grabbing him didn’t help his case of not dropping it on the floor, but the blush that freckled his cheeks gave away how eager Will was to follow you anywhere.
“Well,” Will huffed out a breath that condensed in the air, “You certainly make a convincing argument.” You giggled at his eager tone and hooked one of your fingers around his belt loop. With an incredible amount of concentration, Will managed to follow you away from the kitchen and into the living room.
The living room, or the first room in the house, was where the bed was. It was where the only bed was. When you moved in, you had tried to convince Will to, at least, have an air mattress upstairs. After cost-benefit analyzing it, you gave into having the bed right in front of the front door on the condition that Will took the drafty side. Honestly, it wasn’t too uncomfortable, and the stairs creaked anyway.
As you led Will to the bed, both you and him took considerable steps to avoid the plethora of dogs littered about the floorspace.
Once you were at the foot of the mattress, you looked back at Will. His cheeks were pink and looked frostbitten, but you knew better. Will Graham doesn’t blush at the cold, he blushed at you. It did help that it was 7 °C, regardless. He took a step towards you and you pull him under the covers.
Wordlessly, Will places gentle kisses on your skin, starting at your cheekbones and going lower until he reaches your collar bone, and then lets his face rest on your shoulder. You preen at the physical attention, and then shiver.
“I wish I could stay like this forever.” You hear him mumble into your shirt. You smile softly and tug him further into you so that your bodies might become one. There’s a lot of blanket shifting before one of his hands reaches up under the hem of your shirt.
“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking freezing,” You jump. You lower your head to meet his eyes looking up at you, and you decipher the mischief in his grin.
“You’re the one who suggested this, darlin’.” Will pushes himself forward and your lips meet, slowly and then all at once.
With the comforter pulled up over both of your shoulders, you ended the embrace by tilting your head down so as to separate your lips but then connect your foreheads. Hot breath covers your face and you blink. You hum.
Moving again, Will’s hands travel back down and grasp your waist firmly. Then you’re weightless, his seemingly infinite strength lifting you up and over him until you’re straddling his hips. The sudden shift lets a breeze into the space between you and Will, and you lower your chest to meet his and close the gap. Will sighs.
“Now I’m never getting up,” He laughs into the top of your head.
From the other side of the room, Winston barks at something outside the window, a bird, probably. He barks again at the start of a new song that drifts through the house.
A cloud passes through the sky and uncovers the bright sun, which does nothing for the cold and everything to blind Will through the thin curtains. Will removes one of his hands from you and drapes it over his face, shielding his eyes. You stay like this until another cloud comes, when Will tilts your head up to kiss you. You lean into it, and you bring one of your hands up to pass your finger through Will’s curly brown hair, gold in the sunlight. A few beats pass.
‘My tea is going to be so cold.” One of Will’s thumbs smooths out the wrinkle of concern between your eyebrows.
“You can always make more.” Your lips meet again.
“I know.”
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