I just saw "Frozen" and absolutely loved it, especially Kristoff. So here's some Kristoff/Anna fluff for your enjoyment! It's written from Kristoff's POV, starting from right after he said…

"I could kiss you!"

Why did I just say that? I hadn't meant it provocatively, but it sure sounded like I did. And now that I said it, I can't stop thinking about it. I'm an awkward, blubbering mess; my hand is at the back of my neck, and I can't help but keep glancing back at her small, pink lips. They sure look soft… I look up at her eyes and can't look away. Her big, beautiful blue-green eyes are sparkling and far less innocent than they usually are – than they should be. They are loving, confident, and… mischievous? I shake my head because she's staring at me with those eyes and I can't think straight. And then I feel it – soft, slightly chapped lips brush against my cheek in a small, tender gesture that has my heart pounding and it's both too much and not enough. I scoop her into my arms - because God, I love her - and I press my lips more firmly against hers. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back eagerly, pressing her tiny body against mine. I fight back a groan.

It isn't the first time I've touched her, but it's the first time I've felt her. My large, calloused hands completely encircle her small waist, my pinky fingers resting on the subtle flare of her hips. I resist the urge to hold her tighter, to squeeze her possessively because she's mine. Because after 21 years alone – after 21 years of believing I'd never fall in love with or feel a woman – this adorable, beautiful, awkward, clumsy, loving, and selfless girl is in my arms.

She feels delicate and fragile, but her insistent lips working against my own remind me of her feistiness and strength. She's squirming to get closer to me and I feel her small breasts against my chest. My body heats up further and I fight back another groan. We need to stop because I'm a 21-year-old, hot-blooded male and soon I won't be able to. I pull away reluctantly and instantly regret it when I see her adorably confused, flushed face and pouty, swollen lips. This time I do groan.

Elsa has created a skating rink in the palace courtyard and my Anna is as awkward and clumsy as ever. She's also as persistent as ever; I watch as she stumbles again and again, brow furrowed in concentration and tiny pink tongue peeking out from between her lips. I'm startled to realize that I'm falling more and more in love with her because I didn't think it was possible. I also realize that I must look like an idiot, staring at Anna with half-lidded, love-struck eyes and a goofy grin. I look away quickly, my face hot.

But when I look back, I'm boiling. It appears Anna has stumbled once again and some guy has taken it upon himself to catch her. The tall, slender brunette has his arms around my Anna's waist and the sight makes me nauseous. I've never been the jealous or the violent type, but I'm ready to break his arms. I hear him ask her if she's alright and see him smile at her kindly, hopefully…

I'm over there fast, pulling her out of his arms and into my protective (*cough* possessive *cough*) embrace. I narrow my eyes at him. "Thanks," I say, "but I'll take it from here." I'm shorter than him, but I'm also bigger and bulkier than him. So when Anna doesn't object, he leaves, visibly deflated. Good.

Anna is looking up at me curiously and I look away, blushing. She laughs and I instantly relax, the sound warming me inside and out. "A little jealous, are we?"

Elsa, Anna, and I spent the evening in the palace library, huddled around a fireplace. We talked and laughed for hours, exchanging stories about our childhoods and adventures. Elsa told Anna and me about the time she "accidentally" froze a particularly strict tutor to her seat and I told the sisters about the time Sven fell in love with a young, female troll. Anna's favorite stories were the ones about her and Elsa's time together as children – the memories that Pabbie had erased to prevent her mind from freezing over. Anna's expressions during those stories were my favorite. I wasn't sure if it was just her or the firelight, but she literally glowed. Elsa may or may not have caught me staring at her sister one too many times.

It's late now, and it's time for bed. Elsa has allowed me to stay in the castle for the evening and, with a knowing, sly glance at me that did not go unnoticed, has asked Anna to show me to my room. We walk together in contented silence, basking in the still new, unfamiliar warmth of each other's presence. I'm contemplating how quickly my life has changed when I notice she's stopped walking. We're standing outside a large, mahogany door.

"Well, this is your stop," she informs me. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

Neither of us moves, instead looking at each other with wonder. After a few moments, the need to touch her, to feel her – to assure myself that she is real – is too great and my hand reaches out to cup her face. She closes her eyes and leans into my palm, sighing contentedly. For the fourth time in one day, my heart swells with overwhelming love.

Our second kiss is initially a lot like our first, but privacy allows it to progress into something much, much more. Anna's body is pressed against mine, my back to the door to my bedroom. Her hands are in my hair and as her fingers comb through my blonde locks, we're both a little surprised to feel that I'm vibrating. She pulls away briefly to quirk an eyebrow at me.

"I didn't know you purred."

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Aye aye, captain."

She kisses my jaw and my neck and I throw my head back, banging my head against the door.

"Ah, ow…" I grasp the back of my head and wince. "That's gonna leave a mark."

She smirks. "Consider it a battle scar. But I'll kiss it and make it better if you'd like."

I watch her with large, dilated eyes as she walks around my hulking form and stands on her tip-toes to kiss the back of my neck, all the way up to the bruise that's already forming. The feeling of her lips on the back of my neck destroys any last hope or shred of my control and I turn around so that I have her pressed against the door. She gasps at the new arrangement, but quickly opens herself to me, her hands on my shoulders and her thighs on either side of my right knee. I kiss her lips and her throat feverishly, swallowing her small moans. She tastes like chocolate-covered strawberries and smells like firewood and flowers and I can't get enough. I need more. This time I don't resist the urge to feel her, my large hands running up and down her sides. She almost inaudibly asks for more and I'm all too happy to oblige. I press my right hand against her petite breast and knead it somewhat roughly, gauging her reaction. Her moan is dangerously loud and her knees buckle. She collapses to the ground, panting. I scoop her into my arms and carry her inside.

Just a few days ago, I criticized her for agreeing to marry someone she had just met. But as I carry her in my arms and place her on the large, plush bed, all I can think about is making her mine forever.

And there you have it! Depending on reviews, I'll either make this a oneshot or write another chapter. The next chapter would, however, be a lemon and I'd have to change the rating. Let me know what you think!