Much thanks to  Seiji for this commission, a nice little adventure into safe, protective OV.

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It was supposed to be a date—at least, you hoped it was supposed to be a date. You weren’t quite sure, the invitation up a mountainside to spend the evening at a secluded cabin leaving little to theorizing, buuut, between the palpable shyness from both you and your friend, a feathered fellow named Fubuki… there was no certainty on the intention. Besides, you were quite fine with it being a platonic jaunt, a day spent admiring the views from the elevated wilderness, and a night to cozy up to a fireplace and watch the fire crackle…

And instead of all of that—it has turned to a precarious trek through an unforeseen blizzard.

Shivers wrack through your body, arms tightly clamped around your sides. You came vastly unprepared for the freak storm that descended upon the two of you, the biting wind easily darting through your clothes, chilling you to the bone as your trembling steps make their way along the obscured trail, one after the other. You and Fubuki were past halfway up the mountainside when the blizzard struck, but despite the shorter distance left… the mountain seemed determined on making it the most impossible stretch yet.

Fubuki, on the other hand, is faring far better than you, and yet remains resolved to not leave you behind. The Nevrean, a bipedal avian with a vibrant plumage of yellow and greens to sharply contrast against purple scales and orange hair, is far more intrinsically suited for such conditions. With dense layers of feathers that keep warm air contained within down feathers, and built to handle the frigid nature of high altitudes within the sky—Fubuki is rather unbothered by the weather… and moreso worried about you.

His sharp gaze anxiously darts around, scanning through the cascade of snow as a wing loosely drapes over you… and he perks up! With a shudder, you look up, following his gaze towards a shadowed form amidst the storm—a stony outcropping, the first shelter you’ve seen for ages!

“C’mon!” Fubuki hurriedly chirps, a wing nearly bowling you over as he tries to usher you towards it, as fast as your hobbling feet can take you. You both dart under the overhang, you collapsing against the stone floor as Fubuki descends around you. “Shh, shh....” he coos, wings wrapping over you. He draws you close to himself, tucking you against his chest. “Let’s try to warm you up, yeah?” he tries to assure, and you need no further urging to nestle into his embrace.

There’s more warmth to the sentiment of his actions than what his surrounding body actually provides—the cold stone seeps through your body, and no matter how enveloped you are, it seems that nothing can shelter you from the biting air, sapping any recovered strength from your form.

Fubuki notices your shivers failing to cease, eyes furrowing as he holds tightly around you, a wing gently rubbing against your back in a comforting attempt. “This isn’t going to work for long…” he mutters, and your head lulls back to look at his worried expression. Your thoughts are slowing, leaving you to only distantly ponder the extent of his concern. It’s… kinda touching, you think with a dazed smile…

“No, no, don’t fall asleep,” he says, shaking your shoulders to pull you from your stupor. “You need to get somewhere warmer, to the cabin. I can fly a lot faster than we can walk, even through the blizzard, but I can’t just carry you,” he panickedly says—you’re unsure if it’s actually to you, or if it’s the Nevrean worrying aloud. “If you’re exposed to the elements on my back, that could make everything worse, but we don’t have any other option.”

Fubuki jolts. His huddled grasp around you tenses.

“Unless…” he says, slow and uncertain. His gaze lowers towards you, pressed close against his chest and belly, cuddling against the warmth from his body. There’s… one option. One that immediately flusters the Nevrean, sputters slipping from his beak at the realization—but there’s no time to lose.

“Hey, buddy,” he whispers, beak nudging against your cheek. Blearily, you look up, finding his expression to be a cluster of emotions—panic, concern, hope, worry, all directed at you.

“I… have a way,” he starts. “That I can keep you warm so I can get us to the lodge. I… don’t know your thoughts on such habits, and I myself am… usually on the other end,” he admits. “But, if you were… in my belly, it’d be a lot warmer, and I could fly with you in there, and get us to the cabin, and—”

You interrupt his frantic murmurs, a trembling hand reaching to jostle his wing, and you offer him a smile. Date or not, platonic or romantic—you trust Fubuki, and you voice your acceptance.

(it’s not like freezing to death is a close second, either)

“Oh!” he squawks, before composing himself, feathers smoothing back down. “Okay, okay— I can do this. I can do this,” Fubuki repeats, a mantra moreso to reassure himself than you. It’s kinda charming, but then again, your priorities are a bit askew considering your limbs have been growing numb. “Just… I’ll handle everything, alright? Stay still, and I’ll have you nice and warm and safe~”

Fubuki’s wings partially unwrap from your form—the biting wind immediately slipping through, sending a shudder across your spine— and his talons gently settle against your upper arms, holding you in place. His chest feathers ruffle as he lets out a deep exhale, forcing the tension from his body, and looks down upon you. Crouching, trembling, and in dire need of warmth… despite his predominantly prey nature, Fubuki readies himself, beak craning open—wide, wider—and you’re given a wide, expansive view of your haven. Your destination. A dappled landscape of slickened reds, of shadowed depths, of a gracious heat huffing up from the depths of his throat.

Another exhale—and Fubuki leans in. Darkened walls begin to envelop your head, as more of that wonderful heat washes over you, the avian inching his head further and further down, ever so careful to avoid any teeth of discomfort—not that you needed such assurance, if you had to be honest. The moment that your body shifts from chilling numbness and the clutches of panicked adrenaline, you’re overtaken by eagerness, the sheer enticement of complete warmth—and Fubuki takes you in.

GLRRK!

In a tight, rippling pulsation of flesh, working their way around your head, you’re lurched upward, talons clutching beneath your arms and hefting you up. Despite his prey-like nature and similar stature, his body swiftly works around you, as if such an act was his calling; his muscles work in perfect tandem, slurrrrrrping you deeper away, as your head is shoved past the bend of his throat, passed to the clutches of peristalsis. Gulp after gulp, more of your body sinks into his gullet, the Nevrean falling into instinctual motions alongside gravity, feeling your body bulge out his throat considerably… and maybe, it feels nice. But he doesn’t have time to indulge in that fleeting thought, ushering it aside as he works you down, supporting your legs into the air as your waist slips past his beak.

With a SHLRRK— you’re shoved forward, head breaching through a sphincter… albeit not one you initially expected. It’s small, only big enough to look around for a brief moment before gravity smushes you head-first into the bottom of his odd chamber. Saliva and plush flesh squelch over your face as you’re shoved and smeared across it, head nudging into the continuation of Fubuki’s throat.

By the time that you realize it’s his crop, you’re shoved past, slurped up and sent sliding down the rest of his throat. The next sphincter comes quickly, and easily—one swift undulation of muscle, rippling over your whole body as Fubuki’s beak closes once your feet slip by—and you’re pushed into his stomach proper.

A squelch, a tumble, a rush of heatand a flash of gravity—you’re assaulted by a wave of sensation, and it’s not unwelcome, immediately fixating on the purpose of your deposit: heat. It feels like every organ the Nevrean has is a burning hearth, seeping a comforting warmth into the perfect, warm cradle of his gut. Your feet slip through the stomach sphincter with a final schlrrp, immediately shifting and nudging against the stomach walls to tuck against your chest as you curl up. It’s tight, yes—but that’s quite alright.

“Urp—are you okay? Made it safe?” Fubuki murmurs. The typically timid Nevrean’s voice rumbles throughout his body, vibrating into your own chest as you hear—and feel—his words. There’s plenty of ways to answer that, and answers to give. It’s damp, slick, and tight, but it’s so warm, an amazingly welcome contrast from the bitter cold that tormented you only moments ago. That… and that it’s safe. Fubuki is nervous, but this way, he can easily bring you both to safety.

And, even if you weren’t sure that it was a date, you’ve ended up far closer than you thought you would—albeit literally.

You nudge your hands against the gut walls, kneading and massaging against them before nestling in, feeling Fubuki’s talons gently curl behind the slight bulge of your head. It takes a couple tries for the Nevrean to even hear your affirming answer, but you immediately know when he does: everything seems to relax, the suspended tension falling away from his body.

“G—good,” he murmurs, absentmindedly rubbing against his bulging, shifting stomach. “I feel so full, but I can see the appeal for preds,” he muses, almost dreamily. “It feels… really nice…But!” he adds with a jolt, shaking his head. “No time for that, this is more important. Now that you’re settled in there and warming up, you really ought to get to the lodge.”

The surrounding walls ripple and squelch over you as Fubuki shifts, and while you can’t see what’s going on, you can guess easily enough. His feathers fluff out, and it takes several powerful wingbeats to bring him off the ground, struggling with your weight and the blustering winds before he gains altitude. It’s not unlike turbulence, the buffering of wind against Fubuki’s hefty gut, but the Nevrean powers through it—and soon enough, he’s soaring through the blizzard, making his way across the mountainside.

Within… you’re wholly unbothered, attention towards the outside world swiftly redirected towards your immediate surroundings. It’s as if his stomach walls are swadling you in a warm, slick blanket, and it’s so, so comfortable, especially after the foray into the freezing cold…

So nice, in fact, that you find yourself drifting off. Keeping your eyelids open becomes a struggle, and you hardly fight it off; you’re here, surrounded by Fubuki. He’ll keep you safe, just as he promised, and as you nestle into the hanging paunch, you welcome sleep as unconsciousness gently overtakes you, a tranquil smile tugging on your lips.