Cozy In The Keep
The Scoundrel x Reader
Your adventures with the Nephalem took you from the blistering sands of Caldeum to the unforgiving cold of Bastion's Keep. You have been to graciously given the opportunity to rest... If only that Scoundrel will shut up about the cold.
The moment you've (I've) all been waiting for, some Diablo III content. This one's dedicated to my favorite companion of the three.
Warning: The following contains Diablo III spoilers and very brief, Scoundrel style flirting.
Reader's discretion is advised
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You couldn't help the snicker that shook your shoulders as the thief beside you whined, his frame quivering from the cold.
"Even in the damn keep, it's freezing!"
A quick eye roll from the armored templar across from you earned an amused snort from yourself.
Your wearing even less than Lyndon yourself, only your single-layer robes, shoes and a chest plate. Though, you supposed growing up in climates like outside of Bastion's Keep would help give you an immunity to the cold.
"Lyndon, my friend, you are dramatic."
An offended gasp from the man only proved your accusation correct. Yet the gasp was almost immediately replaced with another shiver wracking his body, guards having just opened the doors to leave the keep.
This prompted you to look towards the doors, looking at the snowy view before they closed. You had wondered if your Nephalem friend and Eirena were alright. The keep was experiencing more and more demons attacking and they had left to light the signal fires just as Tyrael—the fallen angel of justice—had suggested.
As you pondered your companions' whereabouts, the clicking of chattering teeth brought that thought to a halt. Your eyes snapping towards the noise to examine the Scoundrel, his arms hugging over his chest as a means to desperately retain body heat.
Any amusement you had about the situation shifted to sympathy, the poor lad was simply freezing without reprieve.
"Lyndon."
"Y-yes? How may I be of service~?" His voice, though stuttering through his shivers, held the usual coy tone he spoke with.
"It's more or less how I can be of service for you—"
A suggestive look in his eye caused you to cut short, rolling your own before giving a quick "Not what I meant".
A groan of discomfort echoed from Kormac who obviously caught onto the silently implied innuendo.
This time, it was the Scoundrel's turn to snicker, "W-what is it you wish to help with?"
You cleared your throat, "Ah, well, you see... I was gonna offer perhaps sharing body heat?" Your offer turned into a question itself, as if wondering if this was the best course of action. Slowly, your second guessing shifted to shame.
You weren't given a chance to wallow in your embarrassment before a pair of ice cold hands snatched you up and dropped you on top of the owner's lap. Your back pressed to Lyndon's chest as he hid his face in the warmth of your neck.
A sigh of relief fanned across the part of your neck that was revealed, "You might as well be a furnace," he practically melted against your frame, cocooning himself around you. Within seconds, you swore you heard the telltale sound of soft snores escaping the thief.
You looked at Kormac across from you with an amused look as he shrugged.
At least he shut up.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Reblogs are appreciated <3
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Cozy In The Keep
The Scoundrel x Reader
Your adventures with the Nephalem took you from the blistering sands of Caldeum to the unforgiving cold of Bastion’s Keep. You have been to graciously given the opportunity to rest… If only that Scoundrel will shut up about the cold.
The moment you’ve (I’ve) all been waiting for, some Diablo III content. This one’s dedicated to my favorite companion of the three.
Warning: The following contains Diablo III spoilers and very brief, Scoundrel style flirting.
Reader’s discretion is advised
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You couldn’t help the snicker that shook your shoulders as the thief beside you whined, his frame quivering from the cold.
“Even in the damn keep, it’s freezing!”
A quick eye roll from the armored templar across from you earned an amused snort from yourself.
Your wearing even less than Lyndon yourself, only your single-layer robes, shoes and a chest plate. Though, you supposed growing up in climates like outside of Bastion’s Keep would help give you an immunity to the cold.
“Lyndon, my friend, you are dramatic.”
An offended gasp from the man only proved your accusation correct. Yet the gasp was almost immediately replaced with another shiver wracking his body, guards having just opened the doors to leave the keep.
This prompted you to look towards the doors, looking at the snowy view before they closed. You had wondered if your Nephalem friend and Eirena were alright. The keep was experiencing more and more demons attacking and they had left to light the signal fires just as Tyrael—the fallen angel of justice—had suggested.
As you pondered your companions’ whereabouts, the clicking of chattering teeth brought that thought to a halt. Your eyes snapping towards the noise to examine the Scoundrel, his arms hugging over his chest as a means to desperately retain body heat.
Any amusement you had about the situation shifted to sympathy, the poor lad was simply freezing without reprieve.
“Lyndon.”
“Y-yes? How may I be of service~?” His voice, though stuttering through his shivers, held the usual coy tone he spoke with.
“It’s more or less how I can be of service for you—”
A suggestive look in his eye caused you to cut short, rolling your own before giving a quick “Not what I meant”.
A groan of discomfort echoed from Kormac who obviously caught onto the silently implied innuendo.
This time, it was the Scoundrel’s turn to snicker, “W-what is it you wish to help with?”
You cleared your throat, “Ah, well, you see… I was gonna offer perhaps sharing body heat?” Your offer turned into a question itself, as if wondering if this was the best course of action. Slowly, your second guessing shifted to shame.
You weren’t given a chance to wallow in your embarrassment before a pair of ice cold hands snatched you up and dropped you on top of the owner’s lap. Your back pressed to Lyndon’s chest as he hid his face in the warmth of your neck.
A sigh of relief fanned across the part of your neck that was revealed, “You might as well be a furnace,” he practically melted against your frame, cocooning himself around you. Within seconds, you swore you heard the telltale sound of soft snores escaping the thief.
You looked at Kormac across from you with an amused look as he shrugged.
At least he shut up.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Reblogs are appreciated <3
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