#warm nights curled up in bed by the fire in their little cabin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koenigami · 5 months

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COLD HANDS, WARM HEART.

wriothesley x fem!reader summary : spending your night far away from everything and everyone with your lover in a cabin on a cold night, you finally uttered your deepest wish to him. wc : 3k tags : +18, smut, fluff, established relationship, talks about children, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, wrio about to unleash his breeding kink

The fire casted shadows along the walls as it danced in the fireplace, the warmth and crackling of burning wood creating a cosy ambience that could have made you fall asleep right then and there on the floor. Cold winters in Fontaine weren’t unusual yet you could not remember the last time you had seen thick layers of snow like the ones that currently covered the meadows and mountains of your homeland like large fluffy clouds.

A cold breeze rushed inside the little wooden cabin and made you shiver when Wriothesley slipped inside, nudging the door shut with his foot while carrying piled up pieces of wood in his arms. You smiled at the sight of his reddened nose and cheeks, flakes of snow sprinkled all over his hair and slowly melting away, leaving back a trace of slightly damp curls.

“Hope this will be enough for the night.” He sighed, neatly stacking the wood in the little basket beside the fireplace before he joined you on the woven carpet. “Good thing you stayed inside. It’s so damn cold.”

“‘Course, otherwise I would have turned into an icicle.” You smirked, remembering how Wriothesley earlier had threatened to tie you to the bed because you had begged him to let you accompany him outside to get the wood. Apparently, wanting to watch your handsome boyfriend use his astonishing strength to chop wood had been too much to ask for. However, the shriek that you let out when his bare hands touched your neck was proof enough that staying inside had not been such a bad idea.

“Shared sorrow is half the sorrow.” You grabbed his wrists, liberating yourself from the frosty feeling on your skin, and instead tried to gently envelop his hands in your smaller and especially warmer ones. Wriothesley studied you with curious eyes as your thumbs traced tender circles along the back of his hands while warming them up with your warm breath.

“You don’t need to do that.” Your movements halted, and you looked up at him befuddled. He went out by himself in that freezing cold, the least you could do was make sure that he was warm and- “Share my sorrows.”

Bearing others burdens on his own shoulders was a piece of cake for Wriothesley, because somehow he always managed to take care of them very easily. Yet the melancholic smile that he would shoot you every time you stated the desire to help him was a clear sign of a deeply rooted self-destructive habit. And despite knowing that it was only a way to keep you away from any further unnecessary trouble, in some situations it felt more like a brick wall that he cemented between the both of you.

“You’re right.” You stated matter-of-factly, leaning over to ruffle his hair and ridding him of the residue snowflakes. “But I want to. And the next time you threaten to tie me to a piece of furniture, I’ll simply handcuff you to the bed.”

“Threatening me with a good time, huh? Sweetheart, you should really work on your bargaining strategies.” His smug smirk turned into a lighthearted chuckle when he saw you scoff and turn your head away from him in annoyance. Though your body did not resist even an ounce when one of his arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer against him into a tight embrace. You instinctively snuggled into his side, the knitted pullover that he was wearing making him look tamer and more cuddlesome than his usual dress shirt and tie.

Coming here was a good idea. Far away from Wriothesley’s duties as well as your own work, no court cases or due dates for your reports; you were grateful for some uninterrupted shared time with him even if only for a few days. It’s what you both were in need of. Especially since there were matters that had somehow been lingering on your mind and soul for a while now-

Soft tender touches were shared as the snowfall outside the window slowly started to get heavier. His hands along your hips and waist, sliding underneath your pullover to caress and feel the heat of your skin, your lips on his jaw and cheeks, feeling the light stubble on his face. Slow and teasing movements that made your skin tingle and heart do somersaults, the awareness of how happy this man’s presence was making you, bringing a genuine smile to your lips.

“Want me to make some tea?” You eventually asked when you detached yourselves from each other for a moment. Tilting your head slightly, you looked at him. The fire casted an orangish light over the side of his face, the flame reflecting and swirling in the deep blue of his eyes and risking hypnotising you if you wouldn’t stop staring right into them.

“Nah, maybe later.”

“Did you just deny an offer of tea? Are you sick?” You giggled and watched his own lips form into a wolfish grin. In the blink of an eye, you were tackled and pinned to the carpet while Wriothesley’s body now loomed over yours and caged you between his arms. “I see so now it’s sex over tea?”

With nothing but the fire illuminating the cosy bedroom, you looked so ethereal. Your hair was sprawled around your head like a halo, and your skin felt so soft and warm as he glided his fingertips along your cheek and further down to your neck where he started littering light fleeting kisses. “Of course not, my love. It’s you over tea.” He spoke between each kiss. “You over everything.”

A gasp escaped you when the sweet kisses turned into teasing bites, heat already pooling between your legs at the way he sucked on your skin, finishing his markings with light traces of his tongue. Your legs instinctively spread, letting him slot himself between them as he kept assaulting your neck, tasting you, inhaling you in such a fervent way that he made it seem like you have been separated from each other for months. And in some kind of way, it truly felt so. One tiring day after another had led to the both of you being so exhausted and depleted of energy that your shared bed had solely served as a way to recharge your batteries before the next same draining day would arrive with the same taxing work and tasks to be completed.

His breath hitched when your hands slid into his hair, and with the tight grip you had on his strands, you noticed him lower his body, his hips grinding against yours and letting you feel the prominent growing bulge in his pants.

“Mr. Wriothesley.” You suppressed a wince once you noticed that your attempted comment did not sound as teasing as you had hoped it would when you were so out of breath and desperate for him. “Don’t tell me we’re about to have sex on the floor when there’s a king size bed right next to us.”

“Oh, shut up.” Blindly reaching to his side, Wriothesley tore the soft blanket off the bed, the both of you spreading it properly before you hurriedly settled on top of it. “There, better now?”

Though in all honesty, you could not care less about whether the ground beneath you was cushioned or not, whether you did it on the floor or in a thousands of mora expensive bed, as long as it was him that your hands got to touch, as long as it was him that got under your skin and never let go of you. His patience was slowly crumbling to the ground and disappearing into nothingness as much as yours was. His touches became more eager, with rough hands groping your chest, and lips nearly devouring you, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue- It was so easy for him to make a mess out of you.

The fabric of your jumper was soon bunched up, and your bra pulled further down to let the fat of your tits spill out of it. The warmth of his lips wrapped around your nipples as he started sucking on one while his thumb and forefinger played with the other, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when he noticed you arching your back. “Fuck, missed these tits so much.” He rasped, drunk on your body and the way it felt beneath his hands. His tongue slid around your areolas, sucking and biting at the plump flesh of your breasts until they glistened with his saliva.

Once you two finally pulled back to completely rid yourselves of the clothes and fabrics that created a barrier between you, you were almost astonished at the light shake in your hands and breath, adrenaline and hormones having riled you up like a desperate teenager. Breathless chuckles and giggles echoed through the dimly lit room while you hopelessly struggled to undo buttons here, unclasp a bra there, and unzip and tear off legs of pants. Wriothesley hissed in pain when you harshly tugged the thick woollen pullover over his head, his helix getting caught in the fabric before you yanked it off him a little too harshly.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing over the apex of his ears to soothe the sting, and settled back between your legs which you deliberately wrapped around his waist. Digging your heels into his lower back, you pulled him almost impossibly closer as if any space left between your bodies would physically hurt you. With a hushed sorry, you trailed your mouth along the shell of his pierced ear, hearing and feeling his laboured exhales brush across your face when the pads of his fingers finally stroked along your already soaked folds. He played with you. Smearing your arousal over your clit, the circles he drew on the erected little bud made you let out the sweetest noises, his cock twitching in anticipation while he could barely wait any longer to hear you moan once he was inside you.

Wriothesley carefully drove his thick middle finger inside you, so painfully slow that you keened needily, tightly gripping the blanket underneath you in your clenched fists, knuckles white. Though his exterior seemed far more composed than you were, the hard cock that you caught a glimpse of as it hung heavily between his legs with the irritated and glistening tip, the weight of it brushing against your thigh; your pussy unconsciously clenched around nothing, the empty and aching feeling inside you only getting stronger.

“Oh my god-” You nodded mindlessly with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pouty lips slightly open in a silent moan when he finally added a second finger, filling you further up. Though you were far away from satisfied, and at the way your fluttering and pulsing walls gripped his fingers he too could tell that you needed more. The indecent squelching sound of his palm slapping against your wet pussy with each thrust was so loud, he couldn’t help but groan knowing that you were in such a desperate need for him, that you needed him to fill you up to the brim and satisfy you over and over again.

“Let me see that pretty tongue.” You felt something in your stomach flutter at the sight of his satisfied smile once you obediently stretched your tongue out, letting him brush his soaked fingers on the pink muscle before dipping them into your mouth. With swirling movements, you made sure to lick them clean, the light suction of your lips making his breath hitch undeniably as he relished the sight in front of him, your pretty doe eyes glistening with moisture as the flame of the fire flickered inside them. “My gorgeous girl, always so good for me.”

“Wriothesley.” You croaked when he retracted his hand, a dribble of saliva running down the side of your mouth while the taste of your own arousal still lingered on your tongue. As you reached down between your bodies to take his cock in your palm, brushing it along your folds to cover him in your juices, you involuntarily sunk your teeth into your lip, gnawing at the raw kissed flesh. No matter how many times you took him, he always made sure you were nice and ready for him, wanting to make this as pleasurable for you as possible. Yet something about the brief burn when your walls stretched around him, the way it sent shivers down your spine and made your toes curl until your body accommodated to his size; you could never get enough of it. “Just fuck me already.”

“Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” His chest vibrated with a deep airy chuckle when he witnessed your eagerness, his big hand taking a hold of yours to place it beside your head, fingers weaving through yours and giving it a tight squeeze when his free hand guided his leaking tip to your entrance. “Going to fuck my darling real’ good, yeah?”

“Yeah, oh-” The warm mushroom tip entered you, as Wriothesley slowly started fucking himself deeper into you. Inch after inch, he sank deeper, stretching you further before pulling back out, and leaving you a whimpering mess. The hand he had placed on top of your stomach to keep you in place, involuntarily grounded you and you wondered whether he could feel himself in your guts. Because with each thrust that he sank deeper into your dripping wet hole, you swore you could feel him in your throat. “Baby-”

“I know, I know.” He breathed heavily against your ear when he eventually buried himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your skin, and tight walls gripping him like a vice, constantly clenching and unclenching. “Taking me so well. Always so… fuck-”

Wriothesley’s voice died down when he felt you fuck yourself against him as if you were in heat, moaning and gasping every time you lifted your hips off the floor. Your legs were shaking by the time he moved his hand to your sex, thumb quickly brushing back and forth over your clit and making you topper over the edge. Your entire body turned rigid when you came, the intensity of your orgasm would have scared you if it weren’t for Wriothesley’s roaming hands, caressing and reassuring you. You had not even realised the tears running down your temples until he kissed them away, letting you taste the salty liquid when he slotted his lips against yours. “That’s it, I’ve got you, love. Ha, squeezing me so fucking tight.” He mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t think I’ll last much longer like this.”

“Then don’t.” Regaining some control over your body, you were finally able to speak up though with a hoarse voice, and weak legs which you desperately tried to wrap back around his waist. Clasping his neck with your arms and holding onto him as if he was your life line, you moved your hips against his with a frail push, wanting to spur him on. “Wanna see you cum too. Want you to fill me up.”

“W-what?” His own thrusts stuttered when he caught your last sentence, letting your words sink in like honey on a burning wound.

“Want you to cum inside me.” By the expression on his face and slowed movements, you could clearly tell that Wriothesley probably thought that your words were stemming from a spur-of-the-moment decision. Brain fried by pleasure and oxytocin, all words that left your mouth should be taken by a grain of salt, though right now in this moment, there was not a single thing that you were more sure of than the thought and wish that had been occupying your mind for weeks. A small being incorporating the love that you and Wriothesley held for each other. Crawling and toddling around your house, filling it with sweet laughter and cries, while looking just like him. His eyes, his nose, his kind heart.. “Y/n, we can’t just-”

“Been meaning to tell you this for a while now.” The pads of your fingers brushed against his flushed cheeks as you cupped his face in the softness of your palms. His deep blue eyes had taken on a darker shade, staring right into your soul, and you swore that if there was a way to drown into that ocean of blue, you would do it instantly. “Wriothesley, I love you so much. I-I can’t imagine a life without you.”

Another stream of tears followed that made his eyebrows furrow before he gently wiped them away. Of course he had already had similar thoughts. How could he not when you were everything he had ever wanted in his life. Images of a little girl with the same sweet smile as yours, same hair, same attitude-

“Wanna give you a baby.”

“Are you sure about that?” His gaze zeroed in on you, looking for something, just anything that could tell him that you were not being serious, that all of this was nothing but an awful joke, some terrible dirty talk. Though all he could find while gazing into your eyes was nothing but pure love and warmth as you nodded at him. Warmth that seeped into the deepest parts of his body, spreading and filling his heart to the brim with affection for a woman he would always be ready to do anything for. “Sweetheart, you’re-”

You choked with wide blown eyes when his hips all of a sudden snapped against yours, his cock diving into your deepest parts and about to make you fall apart again. “You’re going to be the death of me, ya know that?” His voice quivered the slightest bit as he buried his face in your neck, and with his chest flush against yours, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart as it pounded only for you.

The fire had dimmed by now, the dark red flame covered by ash and residue parts of scorched wood fighting for its last ounce of oxygen, while the heavy snowfall outside had calmed. However, when you let your nails scrape down Wriothesley’s back, leaving red marks beside the already residing scars along his skin, while his body eventually tensed up, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and cock pulsing, coating the walls of your insides in white- You knew that your night had barely even started yet.

“Shit- Can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my kid inside you, darling.”

#wriothesley #wriothesley genshin impact #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact wriothesley

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sirenmoth · 4 months

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Warm Winter

Werebear x Human!Reader

Synopsis: Your teddy be- i mean werebear partner doesn't like you out in the cold

AO3

we need more monster fluff

Cold weather was a given living so far out in the woods, winter was when it got bad with the mountines of snows and skin biting blizzards, below freezing temperatures and scared fresh food other than meat and canned rations. Keeping a ental note to try and make and indoor greenhouse somewhere in the cabin to grow fresh produce when the spring thaw arrives. The small cabin as big enough and sturdy enough to keep the harsh elements of a mid november snow storm out, through the wind crept in through what cracks crevices it could find, another mental notes of what needed repairs.

Your partner slept more during these months to conserve energy, curling up on a makeshift bed of fur pelts and stolen camping equipment. You, however, didn't have that biological need to sleep for months on and off, becoming restless staying in bed all day. So you built a routin for the colder months, put in place when the sun starting setting earlier over the dusted white treetops and frozen over lakes. Keeping as quiet as possible, as not to disturb the ball of nesting fur in the bedroom. You saved the outdoor activities and chores for the warmer seasons, those usually consisted of fixing and repairing the damange the winter war has done, building up the little fort the two of you call home al over again, hoping it can survive another battle against the elements.

The cabin didn't have a lot of rooms, just a bedroom, living room, kitchen and bathroom, not much but it's home. You always leave the bedroom for later, giving it a deep clean in the fall before your partner goes to sleep and in the spring when your partner wakes up.

The first thing you do is start a fire, the small woodburner in the living is enough to provide heat for most part in the cabin, a massive wood pile sat beside it, another one sat in the kitchen by the stove. All lovingly chopped by your partner before they decided to crash for the winter.

Next you start on the kitchen, checking the food preservatives in the pantry and marking down what was running low and what was due to be expired soon down on a clipboard they brought a year years back when you asked if they had another to keep records for food during winter, knowing your partner it was from a campsite of unsuspecting campers who didn't know or didn't care they were in a bears' territory.

Picking up a bucket and broom on your way out, wanting to dust and sweep both the living room and kitchen. Thankfully the place stayed clean throught most of the colder months due to your being the only one active. Walking over to the bathroomand putting the bucket in the tub, the sink was too shallow for it, and walking back out to pick dust the shelves and organise. A quick glance outside, the snow has picked up into a light blizzard, white specks dances around in the air in rapid movments, the landscape now a frozen white desert. It was going to be a rough night, silently you prayed the cabin could stand up against it and keep you both warm and safe.

Finding a new place at the moment is less than desirable.

Retriving the bucket from the bathroom and turing off the tap, it was barely half full but everything needs to be conserved during the winter season. A loud bang rang out throughout the cabin, startling you, nearly making you drop the bucket. The source of the noise was one of the indoor shutters that flew open from a strong gust of wind, hastily you put the bucket down and , as quickly as you could, placed it back in its place, hoping no heat escaped.

An errie quite falls over the space, listening for movement, waiting to see if the noise distrubed the snoozing mass. A low growl emitted throughout the small space, the beast was awake and fully aware of a certain human missing from the nest. The sound made you froze, stopping the sudden repairs on the window shutter.

"I'll be there in a minute." you call out, finishing securing the shutter in place and closing it, latching it shut. Turing around you come face to face with the recently awoken werebear, grumpy and tired their sleep was interupted, standing hunched over in the door frame, staring you down. "I was just cleaning, I was going to come back to bed once I'm done." You attempt to explain.

Your explaination does very little as you're lifted up into the air and over their shoulder, dragged back to the bedroom, all chores supposed to be done be damned.

A strained groan leaves your throat as you get dropped with force onto the makeshift bed, then a heavy, hulking figure practiaclly collapse on top of you as soon as you make contact with the pile of fur and equipment. Smiling, you put up a fake struggle, squirming around to try and break free. Another growl is heard, a warning to stop it, still you continue to movie, trying to find a comfy spot. A strong paw traps you, pinning you down by the waist and pulls you in, close enough to feels your bears' warmth but not enough to suffocate you in their fur.

"I had work to do. Who do you think maintains this place while you sleep?" You poke at the soft pile beside you, which grunts in response, too tired to properly respond to your sarcastic remark.

"Mhm, I love you too." another grunt in reply. Rolling over to cuddle in closer, sighing contently, pressing your face into their chest. Feeling them curl around you like a personal heater, a furnace, keeping you warm from the cold. Sleep once again entered your mind, knowing you're not going anywhere any time soon, you let it.

Hopefully you'll be able to get everything you missed done tomorrow, along with what is also planned for that day. Knowing you hace your work cut out for you. Right now you let youself be effectively trapped and pinned to the bed, you decide staying isn't so bad, beside you need rest for the double work you've got set up for tomorrow.

#monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster fucker #monster x human #monster x reader #monsterfucking #monster smut #monster fluff #teratophillia #terato #terat0philliac #monsterfucker #monsterfucking cw #monster #monster x you

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comatosebunny09 · 11 months

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deep-fried | u. tengen

summary: he’s spoken to you in passing. friendly greetings and excuse me’s when he bumped into you at the grocery store. he can’t deny entertaining the thought of how soft your hips must feel. how cute you must sound, tongue curling around his name. genre: modern au, romance cw: mentions of alcohol, language, black female reader, suggestive themes, stream of consciousness, incomplete

Darkness swaddles him as the wind howls beyond the confines of his truck.

It’s quiet inside, save for the lazy purr of his Ram and the melancholy music spilling from his speaker. His grip on the steering wheel is lax as he creeps through his drowsy neighborhood, headlights shining off windows shut tight.

The clock on his display reads 10:37. Another night spent rotting away in his office. He rolls out the kinks in his neck. Exhaustion leaks down his shoulders, curling around his bones and puddling at his feet.

The day wasn’t kind to him. He spent it in and out of meetings. Deals fell through. Clients were no-shows. He had to lay off a few of his strongest employees at the urging of his superiors to compensate for the company's financial imbalance.

All he wants now is a stiff one and the chilly clutch of his bed. Just wants to throw this week in the backseat along with his briefcase. Maybe he’ll scrounge up some three-day-old stir fry from his fridge before he hits the sheets.

But then it’s there, burning in his peripheral when he rounds the corner: orange and blue flames dancing in the wintry gale. Golden swatches of light bounce off your features, highlighting the smile rounding your lips.

“What the...fuck?” Tengen rasps. He rolls the window down halfway and turns his music to a dull murmur. Slows to a stop, brakes squealing. He props his arm on the steering wheel. Your chuckle follows. Warm milk and honey to his ears. He finds your smile infectious, his own canting his lips.

“Howdy, neighbor!” Your voice is husky. Flirtatious even. You sit on your cozy outdoor sectional with a bottle gleaming in your fingers, raised to him in greeting. The breeze carries the oaky scent from your fire pit, reminding him of log cabins and days spent amid the snow.

“What’s this all about?” he asks, chin nestled in his palm. Surprised by how easy it is to skip formalities with you like he’s talking to an old friend. He’s not enamored. There’s no way.

He’s spoken to you in passing. Friendly greetings and excuse me’s when he bumped into you at the grocery store. Simple conversations after running into each other at the gym. He can’t deny entertaining the thought of how soft your body must feel, though. How cute you must sound, tongue curling around his name in that Southern twang.

You stand, thighs thick even beneath the slouched fleece of your sweats. Throw your arms up, your sweater flashing a slither of smooth, dusky skin. His mouth waters. It takes all of him not to bite his lip.

“Shoooot! I made it through another week!” Your grin is lopsided as you rock to the mellow tunes flowing from your speaker. He falls deeper into your web, chuckling. He’s envious of your carefree nature. Wishes he could bottle it up for use on a rainy day. “Care to join me?”

The offer is tempting. Sure, Tengen planned to drink himself into a stupor. But your body language beckons him, and your finger curls in a come hither gesture while you dance like a tipsy fool.

Fuck it. He could use a little respite.

His reply comes as easy as breathing in and out. “Gimme a sec to get out of this monkey suit, and I’ll see how I feel afterward.”

You giggle. Do an accomplished jig around the fire. Tengen can’t help but laugh as he slides off. You’re adorable in your own right.

Excitement wriggles into his fingers as he slides into his driveway. Soon after, he slips into his house, toeing his loafers off by the door. Shimmies out of his coat, making a beeline for the shower, blood pulsing in his ears.

He carries the aroma of rosewood and smoke with him when he sidles up to your patio 30 minutes later.

Tries to play it cool, hands shoved in his pockets, though his chest is afire. Pretty thing like you hankering for his company. He should be so lucky.

“Drink?” you offer, your tone heavy with inebriation.

Corona. He’s not the biggest fan. Prefers the sting of something sour, but he accepts it on his way down onto the cushion beside you, anyway. Tengen sits back in an easy slouch, draping his arm across the headrest. His rings clack against the glass as he brings the bottle to his lips, condensation dripping onto his turtleneck.

For a while, nothing but the sounds associated with nighttime fill the space between you. The fire pops and fizzes. Crickets chitter in the distance. Trees shiver in the breeze. A dog or two barks somewhere far off. Tengen falls prey to the inner workings of his mind before rustling fabric brings him back to the present.

“What's wrong, suga?”

His gaze drifts to you, angled towards him. Your vibe is maternal despite the distilled wheat wafting off your breath. Must be that Southern hospitality everyone talks about. He sighs with a drop of his shoulders, taking another swig. “Just another day at the office.”

“Wanna talk about it?” You lean closer. Fill his nose with the fragrance of cracked vanilla beans, heat rolling off you in waves. He finds himself disarmed around you. Nerves flare when your tiny fingers brand his quad, scorching him to the bone.

“Not really,” Tengen husks, lost in the idle stir of your eyes. He feels like he could tell you everything. But for now, he’s content with soaking up your presence. Hasn’t had a lady friend for some time now, having fully embraced bachelorhood.

“That’s alright.” Give his thigh a squeeze, irises twinkling with something indiscernible. The shadows cast by the fire shroud your intentions. “Just know that whatever storm you’re weatherin’ is temporary. ‘sides, it’s the weekend! It’s time to turn up!”

He chortles at how quickly the mood shifts. At your goofy little dance, taking another sip of his beer. His hand engulfs yours atop his thigh, entranced by the smoothness of it. He could get used to this. Get used to you.

The air feels lighter now. It’s easy to slide into meaningful conversation, throwing back a few more beers as the night eases into the wee hours of the morning.

At some point, he finds himself nestled in the plushness of your sofa inside.

The lights are turned off, the only illumination coming from the silvery moon peeking through your blinds. Sultry jazz tinges the air, chorusing with soft giggles and husky praise. A sheen of desire hangs overhead, intermingled with the smell of firewood clinging to your clothes.

Your thighs are tender in his hands. Doughy like he knew they would be, framing his hips. Your fingers make an unhurried excursion to the hair at his nape as your lips brand his carotid. His responding chuckle is breathless, disbelieving. Vibrates your chest, your breasts warm against the hard press of his torso.

He's grinning like a fool, lids heavy. Can't help mulling over what brought you to this point as his hands engulf the dips of your hips. Sucks his lip between his teeth, his voice a low gravel as you bear down on the apex of his thighs.

#tengen uzui x reader #tengen uzui x you #tengen x you #uzui x you #uzui tengen x reader #uzui x black reader #tengen x black reader #kny x you #kny reader insert #kny x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader

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visceravalentines · 2 years

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Sleepy Sinclair Headcanons

Thinking about them falling asleep helps me fall asleep.

Lester

Lester sleeps in plaid pajama pants always, and rotates through a selection of band tees, bar tees, and tank tops. No socks unless he’s sleeping at his little cabin in the woods, then sometimes he likes the extra warmth.

Sleeps curled up like a little creature in a den. Head is covered by the blankets or even sometimes by his pillow. Never gets too hot or freaks out about only breathing that warm air. Snores, but like a cute sleepy snore.

Normal person body temperature when he sleeps. If it’s cold out, he’s cold. If it’s hot, he’s hot.

Has to have some kind of white noise to sleep. When he’s out in nature, this is provided by the insects and night sounds. When he’s at the house, he’ll leave his window open or sleep with a fan on for the noise.

Absolutely adores sleeping under the stars. Has been known to take a pillow and blanket out on the roof on clear summer nights. Sometimes sleeps in a hammock in the yard or sets up camp in the back of Bo’s truck. His cabin has skylights above the bed so even when it’s not comfortable to actually sleep outside he can still see the sky.

Pretty solid sleeper. Mumbles nonsense in his sleep. Will not remember a lick of it in the morning. Not super prone to nightmares. His brothers helped create happy memories in the midst of a traumatic childhood and he has a lot of time to think out on the road by himself. He’s made a lot of peace with himself, his parents, and his past, more so than the twins have.

When sharing his bed with you, the two of you are tangled up like vines, burrowed in like bunnies. All cuddle positions are created equal. Will happily sleep this way too, no squirming away in the middle of the night.

Vincent

It gets hot in the basement despite it being underground. There’s a lot of machinery running during the day and Vinny keeps the heat up so the wax is more malleable. In the Louisiana climate it takes a while for things to cool back down so Vincent sleeps shirtless, wearing sweatpants or maybe even just his underwear depending on the season. No socks. Never socks. Death before dishonor.

Looks like a literal angel when he sleeps. Often on his back with his arms above his head, more often on his stomach with his head turned in profile on the pillow.

Always too hot. Another reason for sleeping shirtless. The covers on his cot downstairs consist of a single thin blanket. Upstairs in his bedroom he usually sleeps with a single blanket or sheet only.

Sometimes his hair is up, sometimes it’s down. If it’s a particularly muggy day he gets annoyed with it sticking to his neck and he’ll tie it up before bed. His mask is always off for sleeping and he cleanses, tones, and moisturizes his skin every night without fail.

Has to sleep with a light on. It’s not that he’s afraid of the dark, it’s that he gets up a lot in the night and would prefer to be able to see. Before meeting you, he would leave a candle burning all night, because everything the Sinclair family touches is a fire hazard. You have insisted he instead use a fake candle or one of those salt lamps. The fake candle is an affront to his sensibilities but he agrees you have a point.

Sleeps for two hours at a time tops. Constantly getting up to get a drink, take a piss, pace around his workshop. If he’s sleeping upstairs he’ll get up and eat a bowl of cereal at 2 AM. Doesn’t have a lot of nightmares but has semi-regular night terrors that are absolutely bloodcurdling. It sort of helps if he doesn’t sleep for long stretches, but also, he’s just a restless mind. Sometimes you’ll stir in the middle of the night and find him sitting and watching you, sketching or just watching, nursing a cup of tea.

Sleeps in the basement when he’s in a creative period, which is usually the case. If he’s between projects, or suffering from artist’s block, or just finally ready to see some scenery outside of the basement, he’ll wander upstairs for bed.

Will snuggle with you until you’re asleep, and then he will carefully extricate himself so he doesn’t disturb you when he gets up. Favorite position is big spoon, or you with your head on his chest and his arm around you.

Sleeps in a tee, often a thin white cotton one, and his boxers. Wears SOCKS about half the time like a MADMAN. And they’re those stereotypical calf-length ones too with the red stripe around the cuff.

Takes up the entire bed. Sprawls on his back with arms and legs akimbo. Snores so loud he wakes himself up sometimes. Also rolls like a log in his sleep, somehow remains unconscious despite thrashing around like a fish.

Bo runs hot, always. That plus the constant motion means he often sleeps with little more than a sheet whether or not there were other blankets there to begin with.

Has to have a glass of water by his bed at all times. Refills it every night before bed because who likes the taste of stale water? (Nobody.)

Does a complete sweep of the house every night before he turns in. Checks to make sure all the doors are locked and the windows are shut. Doesn’t make a big deal out of it at all, but by god, even if he’s wasted, he will stumble around the house and make sure his family is secure.

Sleeps like the dead. Cannot be woken up for love nor money. The only exception is this: if you try to sneak in, out, or past him, he is immediately awake and alert. If someone were to try the doorknob on the front door he would know about it. Call his name, shake his shoulder, slap his face? No luck. Whisper that you think you might’ve heard something? He heard it too and he’s already downstairs with a shotgun.

Has pretty frequent nightmares and jolts awake soaked in sweat. If he is sleeping alone, he will often stay awake for a while until the fear has faded. If you are there, he will attach himself to you like a creeper vine and fall back asleep much quicker.

This man was literally born a little spoon and that has never changed. Enjoys cuddling with you in all positions but when it’s time for sleeping, he will roll over and scootch that ass back against you and falls asleep well before you detach yourself to prevent overheating since he is the temperature of the sun.

Bonus: Jonesy!!!

This girl has many beds. She has a dog bed in the living room. She has a doghouse in the backyard. She has a bed in Vinny’s workshop. She has a special blanket in Bo’s room. She has Lester.

During the day she often forgoes all of these places in favor of a nice sunny patch where she can sprawl.

At night she chooses her favorite sleeping companion based on a mysterious set of factors. You and Lester are the only ones that let her sleep on the bed. Bo would rather die, and frankly, Jonesy does not enjoy being kicked accidentally by a sleeping menace. Vincent lets her on his cot when he’s not using it, but it is not super comfy for both of them to sleep on at the same time.

When Lester is home, Lester is the favorite, no questions asked. When Vincent gets up in the middle of the night and goes to the kitchen to forage, Jonesy will meet him there, squinting in the fluorescents, making sure he’s okay. She seems to have a knack for predicting Bo’s nightmares and will either settle down in his room or will get up from wherever she’s sleeping to go sit by his bed. Does this occasionally scare the shit out of him? Yes. But she’s doing her best and he knows it.

Jonesy is best girl end of story.

#house of wax headcanon #lester sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair headcanons #slasher x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #jonesy sinclair

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riordanness · 2 months

Text

he was sunshine - [w.solace]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: death mentions (sort of)

requested: no

My senses weren’t working properly. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see anything but darkness.

My touch senses were working fine, though. I could tell that I was lying on a bed, a blanket draped over me. The blanket felt kind of rough, but warm.

It was quiet. I couldn’t make out any distinct sounds. Either I was losing my ears, or I was all alone… wherever I was.

I blinked, and I could see again. Thank the gods. I glanced around, realising I was in the infirmary. Oh…

I hit my head. That was the last thing I could remember before my vision went dark. But, what was happening? Did Gaia actually rise? Was she defeated? Were my friends alive?

I had to find out. Ignoring the pain, I pushed myself up onto my elbows, sat upright, and threw the covers off. I was dressed in jean shorts and my camp T-shirt, what I always wore.

My sneakers were lying on the floor beside the bed, so I pulled them on. Spotting my weapons on the bedside cabinet, I grabbed them and slung them over my shoulders. Being a daughter of Demeter, I wasn’t usually picked out of a crowd to be a fighter, but I was wicked good with the bow. Good as some of the Apollo kids, even.

I ran a hand through my short, dark curls, trying to fix my bed hair. I got bad bed hair most nights, but other than that, my hair was pretty manageable. I didn’t usually have tie it back, given that it was only cut to just below my ears.

I left the cabin, and saw… no one. Usually, there would be tons of kids all around the cabins, playing basketball and chasing each other, heading to activities and playing pranks on other cabins. I couldn’t hear a thing. It was like the whole camp had vanished.

I searched the cabins, the Big House, the armoury, the dining pavilion, the strawberry fields, and the forges. The only place I could think of left was the amphitheater. Even before I reached it, though, I noticed a trial of smoke rising up from the middle of the amphitheater. That worried me. I hurried faster.

Just as I’d feared, it was a fire. The camp was burning somebody’s shroud. Or multiple somebody’s. As I entered the amphitheater, a couple of my cabin mates and friends waved at me. Anita, my half-sister, rushed over.

“You’re okay!” she whispered. “Oh, I’m so glad. You hit your head really hard. Will said you might not be up for a few days. Do you feel okay?”

Come to think of it, I felt awful, but I brushed it off as hunger or fatigue or something. I was totally fine!

I tried to smile. “Oh, yeah. I’m okay. Thanks. What happened? Was Gaia defeated?”

Anita’s face fell. “Uh, well… yes. But we lost some good friends.”

I bit my lip. “Who?”

“Samuel, Tracey, Olive, Nate, and… Leo Valdez.”

“Leo?” I gasped. “Oh no…”

Anita quickly told me the story: Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus, had bravely sacrificed his life to kill Gaia. He had died in a fiery explosion in the sky above camp.

I couldn’t speak. I’d gotten to know Leo pretty well over the months he’d spent working on the Argo II. He’d spent so many long hours and days busy working in Bunker 9, I’d made it my personal job to bring him food and water every day, and make sure he ate. During these little visits, we talked a lot. We’d become pretty good friends.

And now?

He was gone. I felt tears coming, but I tried to fight them down. “They were all too young,” I whispered. “This is all so unfair. I hate this dying business! Why can’t the gods just stop it and stop having poor kids who are targets for monsters?”

Anita looked at me sympathetically. “I know. It’s okay.” She took my hand. “Come on. You should sit down. Will Solace said you needed your rest.”

It was probably true. Will was the best medic I’d ever met. He knew what he was talking about. Besides, my head was starting to throb again, and I was feeling dizzy.

“Uh, yeah. Good idea,” I managed.

I sat with the rest of the Demeter cabin for the remainder of the funerals. The shrouds were burned, the proper things were said, but I was in a bit of a daze. I barely heard anything that was said.

It was so strange. It’d been the middle of the battle, Gaia had just risen up out of the earth and was trying to kill us all, Camp Half-Blood was surrounded by Romans and monsters, and everything had suddenly gone black on me.

I don’t know how I’d survived. I asked Anita, and she confirmed that Will Solace had found me unconscious and carried me off to the infirmary. For some reason, that made me blush.

I hadn’t thought much about the son of Apollo in my years at Camp. He’d always been around, even before I’d gotten here. He was always sunny and happy, always helping everyone, and always healing all of us silly demigods who got ourselves hurt.

My mind drifted. Back to my first year. My first time playing Capture-The-Flag. I’d been brutally beaten up by the Hunters of Artemis. My arm was cut up, my ankle was broken, and I’d gotten a concussion.

Will had refused to leave my side the entire time, even though he was only ten at the time, same age as me. He’d insisted on staying in the infirmary with me until I was well. I think I was the first person he’d ever healed properly, and on his own.

I was brought back to one particular occasion… I’d woken from a deep sleep, my ankle healing (which was slow even with the help of nectar and ambrosia), and found Will sleeping beside me. He was sitting on a chair, slumped forward with his head on his arms, his arms on the edge of my bed.

It took a bit of shuffling and fiddling, and a bit of pain, and a lot of grunts and hard work, but I finally managed to pull him up onto the bed with me. It was a pretty big one, a double bed size. I slid over to one side, spread half the blanket over Will, and snuggled down beside him.

I fell back asleep instantly, not even thinking about how weird this position would look in the morning when someone else came in to check on us. (Other campers, Chiron, and me and Will’s siblings checked on us regularly). I was just trying to do something nice for a friend, someone who was doing something nice for me.

I drifted off to sleep with Will’s breath on my hair.

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #will solace #pjo x reader #will solace x reader #solangelo

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rebelsandtherest · 1 year

Text

Home for Christmas

Words: 4,049

Summary: Matthew falls ill just before the family Christmas bash, and thinks he's missed the entire thing. However, once he hears that his baby brother is sick, Alfred concocts a bit of a holiday surprise. —— this fic is a little late, but Merry Christmas, everyone, and here's to many more!

Warnings: langauge, talk of family during holidays, nothing else that I can think of.

Author’s note: a belated gift to a dear friend, @draw-a-circle-thats-the-compass

------------------

For however many hundreds of winters Matthew Williams had endured in his home, be it in the warmth of an electric-heated home, or warding off frostbite in the untamed wilderness, he would never truly get used to the speed with which the solar night crept down from the pole. It was the dark especially that always sent spikes of dread into his bones, stealing away his warmth and setting pallor in his hands and feet, spreading chill upwards to his whole body.

This year, when he felt the frigid fingers of depression reaching through his chest with the 4:30 sunset, he mustered his willpower and on a spiteful whim bought tickets to Calgary. He had a seldom-used mountain cabin tucked away within the confines of Banff, and while he wasn’t sure the new park rangers still received the memo about him and his cabin during orientation, he was willing to invoke the Minister’s ire if it meant he could dust off his best skis and escape his mind on the slopes.

The cabin was just as he’d left it, and the radiators crackled their way to warm almost as soon as he turned them on. His wool blankets had a few new holes in them, but the quilts were warm and the fireplace clean, and he didn’t even have to replace any lightbulbs, not even in the groaning old icebox. His great snowy-white dog, Buddy, quickly found his favorite bear-fur rug and curled up by the fire, ready to dive into the snow alongside his human the next day.

It was only Matt’s luck that he woke up with a sore throat. He lived in denial for a whole day, basking in the perfect weather and flying down every slope he could get his skis on. But as the too-early sunset crept below the mountains, he began to realize he was swaying on his feet, and moreover, that he’d stopped sweating.

“Shit,” He huffed into his scarf. By the time he was back at his cabin, he could taste the fever on his breath.

Matt wasn’t sure what he’d managed to pick up on his journey westward, but whatever it was, be it cold or flu or covid or tuberculosis, within a few days it had him in a death grip and refused to let go. As he lie in bed, fever-dreaming his vacation away, the darkness grew and grew, and soon Matt felt himself falling into the well of despondency that refilled every winter.

Buddy kept him company, and he’d mustered the energy to call his Dutch beau, Jan, once or twice, but the fever had stolen his ability to tell time, and both times he’d spent about half of the call apologizing for waking him at two in the morning, and the other half repeating himself when Jan got lost in his feverish amalgamation of English and French. He had some anxiety-inducing number of unread text messages waiting for him in the corner of his phone, but reading was a doomed endeavor with his puffy, aching eyes. He watched whatever public tv stations still reached his ancient bunny-eared set, but ended up falling asleep nearly as soon as he sat down.

After some untold number of days, his fever broke, and while he was rationing the NyQuil he still had in his cupboards, he’d taken a full dose the first few nights after his fever and had been mostly comatose since. He’d been sound asleep on the couch one afternoon when his phone began to ring, buzzing loudly against the window sill just above him, until it vibrated its way fully off the sill and directly onto Matt’s head.

“Fucking putain,” he groaned and was shocked at how gravelly his voice came out. The offending device had fallen into his lap, buried somewhere in the folds of his blanket, still buzzing away. He fished it out and stabbed at the screen with squinted eyes, looking for the ‘ignore call’ button, but ended up hitting the ‘answer’ button instead. Only then did he see the caller’s name.

“...Mattie? You there?” asked Alfred from the other line. Matt sighed and sank back into bed, rubbing at the spot where his phone had hit, knowing it would be a lump by the end of the hour.

“Yeah?” he answered, trying to rein in his annoyance at being woken up.

“Holy shit bro, you sound terrible. Are you okay?”

“Sick,” Matt told him.

“Sick? I thought you were going skiing!” Matt closed his eyes, which made his head feel like he was spinning.

“I did. Skied. Got sick. Et voilà. ”

“Aww jeez Mattie. Do you think you’ll be good for our flight on Thursday?” Matt blinked.

“What flight?”

“...To London? Dad’s annual fussy Christmas bash, you know the drill.”

“That’s not until the 22nd.”

“...Matt, it’s December 20th.”

“What?” Matt’s voice cracked with his incredulity. “No, it’s… I got here on the 10th, it’s only been a couple of days, the 22nd isn’t until… I mean I don’t know when but it’s more than three days away.”

“Wait you think it’s only been—Mattie, how many days did you ski before you got sick?” Matt hesitated, embarrassed of the answer.

“One.”

“Oh my god,” Alfred sounded genuinely surprised, and it took him a moment to say, “ Matt, you’ve been sick for a week? And you still sound like this? You don’t still have a fever, do you?”

“No, it went away… I can’t remember.” Matt rubbed his face, and every inch ached. “Listen, it’s not December 19th, I swear, if you’re fucking with me–”

“Look at your phone.”

“What?”

“Look at the date on your phone.”

Matt did.

“Fuck,” he said, staring at the giant calendar date as though it would change if he stared long enough.

“Yeah,” Alfred’s voice was tinny away from his ear. Matt finally blinked and sank further under his blankets, and eventually brought the phone back to his face.

“You’re going to have to apologize to dad for me,” Matt said, “I thought it was… Jesus, I missed my flight back to Ottawa, shit.”

“Wait, you're still in Calgary?”

“Banff.”

“You didn’t leave the dog at home, did you?”

“No, he’s with me,” Matt could feel his voice getting more hoarse.

“Well that’s something. Man, you picked a helluva time to get sick, huh.”

“Apparently,” Matt wished he were comatose for all of this.

“Listen, slam some water—or gatorade, if you have it—and get some rest, okay? I know you’re feeding Buddy, but feed yourself too, alright?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Matt.”

“...I’ll try.”

“Good. Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Don’t die.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“Glad to hear it. Gotta go. Love you, kiddo, feel better.”

Matt began to respond, but before he could finish, Alfred hung up. Matt watched his brother’s smiling icon disappear from the screen, leaving only the giant, damning calendar. Matt stared at it and sighed, heart sinking down through his bed and the cabin itself and into the frozen ground below. There was no way he’d be in shape to fly to Ottawa in the next three days, to say nothing of flying to Ottawa and then across the Atlantic to London.

Buddy, though far too large to be a lapdog, leapt up onto the couch draped himself across Matt’s body, crawling on his belly until he was able to nose the man’s chin, giving it a lick.

“Yeah I know,” Matt sighed, petting the dog’s soft ears and wishing it could make him feel better. “I guess I should tell dad.” The thought made his heart sink even further. “Uncle Alisdair was going to bring his homemade whiskey and everything. Even Aunt Bridgid agreed to go this year. But I guess it’s just,” Matt craned his neck to look over into his small kitchen. There was an old, half-empty bottle of whiskey and a small bag of miniatures he’d picked up while waiting on his flight. “…that, you, me, and whatever the fuck is left in the fridge. Merry fucking Christmas, eh?” Buddy whined, and licked Matt’s face again. He sighed.

“Yeah, me neither.”

-----------------------------------

December 22nd came and went, and by the 23rd, Matthew was less sick than he had been, but still far from healthy. “I imagine Uncle Rhys has already played referee to five fights by now, what d’you think?” He asked his dog. Buddy sneezed. “You’re right, maybe only four.” Matt tried to imagine it; Alfred and Dad, probably, Brighid and dad, certainly. If they were drunk enough, Zee and Uncle Alistair would fight about who was the better skier. Jack wouldn’t hurt a fly so long as he had a beer or cider in hand, though Alfred was certain to seek out arguments for sport—Matt really wished he could get his brother to understand that most people didn’t view arguments as fun.

In past years, he’d spent weeks complaining to Jan about the chaos that accompanied his family’s holiday’s reunions. Now, left alone in a cabin with nothing but his dog, whiskey, and his own thoughts, he realized that he missed it dearly, in the strangest way.

“I’m going to sleep,” he told his dog, who was practically asleep himself. “Hopefully until the New Year.”

It was an ironic cruelty that it was more difficult to sleep while sick than while healthy. It was as if his body was in a civil war over whether it needed to be asleep and miserable or awake and miserable. So, when Matt finally fell into a deep sleep, the half of his body that preferred to be asleep and miserable fought tooth and nail to keep him that way. Unfortunately, someone was trying to break into his house.

It was actually Buddy who finally roused him. Though the banging on the door was difficult to ignore, Buddy’s frantic barking was even harder to ignore. Head pounding, Matt rolled himself bodily out of bed, taking half of the quilt with him. He dragged it behind him, half draped over him, as he trudged to the door. Behind the old white curtain hanging over the door’s window, there was an imposing, human-shaped shadow.

“Fucking park rangers,” Matt groused, and glared down at Buddy. “I thought I told you to remind me to turn the lights off last night.” Buddy barked at him, and Matt sighed. “Listen,” he unlocked the door and pulled on the handle, “I’m allowed to be here, call your superintendent, I’m sure they’ll—Alfred?!”

“Finally!” beamed his brother, clad in a designer parka and what looked like a home-made toque, “I was beginning to think you were dead, which you promised you wouldn’t be. Can I come in? Fucking freezing out here.”

Matt stared for a prolonged number of seconds before he blurted, voice cracking: “Shouldn’t you be in London?” Alfred looked affronted.

“While my baby brother is on his deathbed in the bumfuck nowhere, Alberta? No way!”

“Banff isn’t bumfuck nowhere, and I’m not dying.”

“Banff isn’t, but this cabin sure is, and I’m glad you’re not dying, now can I please come inside? I’m freezing my nuts off out here.” Matt stood aside, still processing the sight of his brother in the flesh. Buddy’s tail was wagging wildly as Alfred came inside, jumping at the chance to sniff the newcomer, dancing happily around the American in a way he did for no one else.

“You should be in London,” Matt said again, head aching.

“I wasn’t about to leave you here, you dumb fuck, jeez, it’s freezing in here, too.” Alfred cast a look down at Buddy. “You let him live like this?” a singular, insistent bark. “Ah, that tracks. Never was good at looking after himself.” He looked up back to Matt, shedding his mittens and shoving them into his coat pockets. “Alright, kiddo, let’s get you packed.”

“Packed?” Matt’s voice squeaked, and he realized even the small amount of talking he’d done with Alfred was killing his voice completely, “Alfred, I can’t go to London, we talked about this–”

“Who keeps talking about London? Not me—we’re going to my place. Idaho!”

“Idaho?” Matt’s brain took a while to buffer. “Wait, at your—”

“At my ranch? Yup!”

Ranch was not the word Matt would have used; Alfred was as rugged a rancher as any rancher alive or dead, but he also had what Matt could only refer to as a Kardashian sense of luxury, and enough money to blend the two lifestyles together. Matt realized all at once the expense Alfred must have spent to abandon the family Christmas, travel north, and prepare his Idaho mansion for his company. “Alfred, you don’t have to, really—”

“Dude, cut the apologies, I’ve broken like, at least four international laws to park my cessna out back, so get your shit and let’s go. No arguing!”

“You what?!”

“C’mon, we’re wastin’ daylight!”

-----------------------------------

If Alfred weren’t already breaking laws north of the border for skipping customs, the FAA south of the border surely would’ve surely had complaints about the alterations he’d made to the rear seat of his plane. Where once there had been two passenger seats with requisite seatbelts and safety features, there was now a cozy, cot-sized bed with enough pillows and blankets for two king-sized beds. By the time Alfred had convinced Matt to “just get in the goddamn plane”, Buddy had already found the fluffiest pillow of the bunch and fallen asleep.

“Here, take this.” While the engines warmed up, Alfred leaned back to hand Matt a handful of gummies from the pilot’s seat.

“What is it?” Matt squinted at the candy.

“Delta 8 and melatonin,” Alfred said, replacing his specs with aviators and pulling on his headset. “Now make like your dog and sleep , kay? You look like you need it.”

Matt scoffed. “Thanks,” he said, and chewed the candy together. It was the last thing he remembered doing before Alfred shook him awake and gently informed him that they’d arrived in Bumfuck Nowhere—and it was actually bumfuck nowhere—Idaho.

-----------------------------------

Matt had visited Alfred’s Idaho Ranch-Mansion plenty of times since it’d been finished sometime in the late 90s, and the mountain drive from the airport to the wide-windowed lodge was an unexpected source of nostalgia of birthdays, holidays, and drunken benders past. Matt hauled himself to the window once the familiar hand-hewn wooden fences appeared, squinting against the blinding snowy paddocks until the first blanketed horses came into view. Matt couldn’t help but smile, maybe the first smile he’d entertained since falling ill. Alfred’s horse herd was made up of innumerable bloodlines, nowadays, but at the center of their pedigree was the blood of some sturdy old Morgans Matt had gifted to him during his civil war. Alfred kept a book that traced their sires all the way back to their Canadian forefathers, and seeing the newest generations never failed to swell Matt’s heart. As if sensing what his brother was looking at, Alfred said,

“Bonfire foaled twins this year—really late, too, October. I can’t remember if I told you that.”

“Really?” “Yeah, both little stubborn shits too, probably why they both lived. I’ve got them up at the barn to keep warm.”

“What’d you name them?” Matt asked. Alfred grinned, uncharacteristically sheepish.

“Pumpkin and Sweet Potato.”

“Alfred, you have to stop naming them after food.”

“What?! It was October! They’re cute.”

As they pulled up the house, Alfred was still defending his food-inspired horse name choices when Matt spotted something strange in the driveway.

“Who’s car is that?” He asked, eyeing the plain white SUV parked to one side of the massive driveway.

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Alfred bent down to peer at the car. “They didn’t all fit in the Bronco, so I had to rent a car for ‘em.”

“For who?”

“I’ll explain later,” Alfred said, shifting the car into park. Matt didn’t miss the small smirk his brother tried to hide. Immediately, a knot of dread formed in his stomach. “Let’s just get you inside and situated, yeah?”

Alfred didn’t have to explain, because the moment he unlocked the front door, the familiar sounds of pointless arguments flooded his ears.

“-bloody fucking ridiculous,” said the very drunk, very Dad voice somewhere deeper into the house. On the doorstep, Matt froze halfway out of his shoes and shot a look at Alfred, who responded by smiling a bit wider, all-american dimples peaking through

“Well how about I conquer you for a century or ten and then I can tell you you’re ridiculous, you bloated fucken Gobshite! Oi, Jackie, back me up on this!”

“Is that aunt Brighid?” Matt asked, eyeing Alfred again. The American busied himself with physically helping Matt out of his boots.

“I have some slippers for you just inside—watch your step.”

“Oh shite, I think I hear someone at the door,” said a much closer, much more Australian voice, “I’ll be just a minute there, one second!”

“ Alfred how the fuck did you—” The door swung open in a rush.

“Save me,” begged a younger, freckled, brunette version of their father. The white puff at the end of his Santa Claus hat jumped when he did a double take at Matthew. His green eyes lit up like Christmas itself.

“Matt!” He greeted, smile spreading wide as the sun. “You look like shite, it’s so good to see you! Oi! You angry cunts!” he shouted over his shoulder, “Matt’s here!”

“What?”

��Oh, thank Christ. Matthew, come tell this woman—”

“You’ll not drag him into this! The bairn’s ill,”

“Are they,” Matt looked over at Alfred, who was still smiling like a smug bastard. “How did you—you’re—” He looked over at Jack, “I thought you were in London?”

“What?” Jack seemed honestly confused, glancing between Matt and Alfred. “Did the Yank seriously not tell you—” he gave Alfred a look, and upon seeing his smug expression, scoffed. “London was a wash this year,” he laughed, “Happy Christmas, mate, come on in.”

“How’d you get here?” Matt reiterated.

“Like I said,” Alfred piped up, pushing Matt towards the doorway. Looking down, Matt realized that, in his shock, Alfred had been the one to actually remove his shoes for him, “they didn’t all fit in the Bronco, so most of them got here by the last Grand Cherokee Avis had to offer. Go on, we’re letting the cold in.” Before Matt could step fully into the threshold, Buddy had bolted in between his legs, tail alert and wagging, eager to see the rest of the family.

“Buddy!” A feminine voice cried, “C’mere you big baby, say hello to auntie Zee,” a series of happy yelps followed, accompanied by drunken laughter.

“Well the dog is here,” Uncle Alisdair said in his loud brogue, “where’s the rest of the circus?”

“We’re here too,” Alfred said, walking behind Matt into the main living area.

“Och, there they are!” “Matthew, so good to see you,” Father looked genuinely happy to see him, soft smile creasing his eyes in the way that reminded Matt of the happiest parts of his childhood. “Come here, let me look at you.”

“Matt! Croeso ! What’s your poison? Mulled wine? Whiskey? Cider?”

“The bairn is sick, Rhys—”

“Alcohol never hurt anyone on Christmas,”

“Mary and all the saints, how have you lived this long—”

“Come over here and give us a hug, you muppets!” cried Zee, spreading her arms wide, a nearly-empty bottle of wine in one fist.

Matt was frozen in place, still coming off his melatonin and wondering if he was feverish again. He was dimly aware that his jaw was hanging open as he took in the gaggle of family packed into Alfred’s living room—dad, both uncles, Jack, Zee, even aunt Brighid. There were twinkling lights hung all around the vaulted ceilings and reflecting on the tall windows, a fresh-cut Christmas tree lit in the corner with a haphazard collection of presents and duty-free bags piled below, punch and whiskey and wine and beer stacked in disorganized bunches along the nearby bar counter.

“—sure he’s alright?” Zee was asking, when his ears decided to work again.

“He’s fine,” he heard Alfred say, and a warm hand rested on his shoulder. “He’s just a bit surprised.”

“You’re,” Matt said, looking around at them all, and everyone went quiet to listen to him. “You’re not. You’re meant to be in London,” Matt insisted.

“Nonsense!” Alisdair spoke up first. “We go to London every year, it was old enough a century ago, time for a change of pace.” He ignored it when Arthur glared at him. “‘Sides, you brother Money Bags over here promised he would take care of everything, else your dad wouldn’t have ever let TSA so much as look at his Christmas pudding—”

“ Alisdair,” Arthur hissed.

“You didn’t think we’d leave you alone, did you? On Christmas?” Jack was completely earnest when he said it. Seeing his baby brother’s face, and the faces of his ridiculous, loud, chaotic family, Matt suddenly found himself with watery eyes threatening to spill over.

“The kid’s on a few drugs right now, give him a little bit to recover,” laughed Alfred, arm around Matt’s shoulders. “He needs some rest. Come on, kiddo, let’s go get you set up in your—” Alfred paused and looked at their little brother.

“Jack, did you get your stuff—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved dismissively. “I moved rooms.”

“Awesome. Come on, kiddo, let’s get you in bed before you fall over.”

“We’ll be here when you wake up!” Rhys called.

“Unless we all have hangovers,” Zee amended, and she and Rhys laughed together. Alfred shook his head and led Matt to his usual room, the only bedroom in the house that had a heated bed.

“Upsy-daisy,” Alfred said, helping Matt up onto the cushioned mattress, pulling out the duvet before Matt sat on it and pulling it immediately over the younger man’s body up to his neck, cozy and warm.

“Hey, hey,” Matt hadn’t realized he’d let tears fall until Alfred was sitting on the bed beside him, brushing hair behind his ear and speaking to him softly in the way that had meant safe since he was a baby. “I wanted to surprise you, not incapacitate you, are you alright?”

Matt wiped his eyes, remembering his lonely cabin and the escape he’d been too sick to enjoy. Alfred’s house was warm and safe, and smelt of Christmas spices that harkened back to his earliest years. “Thank you,” Matt managed, gripping Alfred’s sleeve. “I don’t know how you—I didn’t think—” He sighed, feeling exactly how tired he was. “Thanks, Al.”

Al responded by wrapping him in a hug, warm and tight and safe and everything Matt needed to finally let himself rest. Over Alfred’s shoulder, he could see his dog sneak into the room, hopping up onto the foot of the bed.

“Get some good rest, okay? And don’t worry about anything,” Alfred said into his ear, bending down until Matt was lying back in bed. “We’ll all be here in the morning.”

“The fuck I did! It was your goddamned idea in the first place!” Alisdair’s bellow echoed down the hall and their brotherly moment broke so they could both whip their heads to the door to listen.

“My idea?!” countered their father, in the self-righteous tone that said he’d been at the rum punch a little too much that night, “The entire stupid thing was your doing, beginning to end!”

“You know,” came a third voice, “ I’m fairly sure that—” “Shut up, Rhys!” Shouted Alisdair and Father at once.

Alfred sighed. “Well, we’ll all probably be here in the morning. I’ll tell them to keep it down.”

“No,” Matt said, letting out a tired laugh. The bickering of his father and uncles blurred together in a familiar, lulling haze as sleep beckoned. “No, it’s okay. Merry Christmas, Alfred.” Matt was almost asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, mind’s eye filled with twinkling lights and familiar smiles, morphing into pleasant dreams of holidays past. He was still just awake enough to feel it when Alfred bent to kiss his forehead and brush a hand over his hair.

“Merry Christmas, Mattie. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

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dailyreverie · 1 year

Note

Hiii Jul! May I request #2 “Let’s just stay in here, where it’s warm.” with Poe, please? 🥺 If it's not taken of course!

The holiday

A/N: First of all, thank you so much for requesting! second, I really really hope you like it, this is nothing ut pure tooth-rotting fluff.

☃️ December Writing Challenge! 🎄

Day #2: “Let’s just stay in here, where it’s warm.”

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader

Word Count: 675 words

Warnings: Sleepy cuddly Poe. Poe gets kind of steamy.

When you open your eyes and stretch your arms, you already know it was going to be impossible to get out of bed. It was not just because of Poe’s arm holding you so close to his chest - though it may have been a reason -, but because of the cold that could be felt all the way inside your room.

You had arrived at the sanctuary moon of Endor for a recon mission the afternoon before, just in time to avoid the freezing night rain that had turned into snow just a few minutes later. Poe had somehow managed to get a cozy cabin to spend the days you were going to be there, with a big chimney to warm your room and the coziest blankets thrown on the bed.

Waking up to the smell of smokey wood and to Poe’s shampoo felt more like a holiday than a mission, and the cold outside was not helping at all. The window had the perfect view of the forest, and of the fog that had covered it entirely, trapping an even colder wind in between the tall trees. You wanted nothing but to stay like that, forever in between Poe’s arms in a cold winter morning, still, you tried moving away from Poe’s grasp in an attempt to go and start your day.

“Where do you think you are going?” His voice, still full of sleep, was enough to stop you.

“We need to get ready to leave.” You reminded him, holding his hand to unhook his arm from around your waist.

He groaned, but eventually, a smile broke on his face. “Not really, we don’t.”

“What do you mean? Isn’t Finn waiting for you to send the intel?” As you ask, Poe successfully pulls you back under his weight, without any intention of letting you go.

“Nope,” He pops the p, kissing under your earlobe as he pulls the blanket over the two of you. “No one’s waiting for anything.” You should really keep asking, find out what he even is talking about, but then he starts kissing down your earlobe to your jaw, your neck, your clavicle… his job of distracting you working as a charm as you let out a little moan and curl into his chest, forgetting for a second how cold it is outside.

“Wait, wait… so the mission-” You push him away, trying to make sense of whatever Poe planned. He meets your eyes with his eyelids half-closed, looking at you without answering as you try and figure out the past 12 hours. “You made it up?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” Poe admits innocently. “After the year we had, now that it’s all over, I figured we could use a holiday.” You have no words left to say, you can only look at him and hope your smile is enough for him to understand how thankful you are and how much you love him.

“So this means we don’t have to go out and freeze?” You cuddle closer to him, kissing him softly when you meet him in the middle again. “Or was all this just an excuse to stay in bed for a bit longer?”

Poe shakes his head with a small laugh, all while he manages to climb on top of you and cage you under his body. “No excuses, I’m being serious. Let’s just stay here, where it’s warm, and maybe we’ll see some snow falling today…” He kisses you again, slowly, your lips moving in sync and his tongue teasing yours as he speaks in between kisses “...turn the fire on, stay in bed all day, whatever you want to do.”

“This. This is all I want to do.” You finally let go of every other question about Poe’s surprise getaway, feeling his smile against your lips as he keeps kissing you over and over again, as if kissing you was the only thing that could keep the cold away - you figure out it may be working, since you are never cold again that morning.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe x you #poe x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron au #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron oneshot

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littlesugarwords · 9 months

Note

A scenario where the s2 cabin group stop to rest by a campfire for a little but but while they get ready to sleep they see Clem stay a bit farther away from the others and away from the campfire. How do they all react?

more angst YES

Luke: Luke stretched, easing himself onto a log around the fire, keeping his hands warm. Just past the flames, Luke glanced up, spotting Clementine in the distance, shrouded in the darkness, seemingly laying her bag down on the road. “Clem?” She glanced up, pausing. Without another word, Clem roped her bag and wandered over. “Come, sit.” Luke said, gesturing to the open spot beside him. Quietly, Clem did. “What are you doing all the way over there?” Clem shrugged. “It seems nice and quiet.” “And here doesn’t?” He asked, gesturing to an open spot near the fire. Clem merely looked at it, but didn’t respond. “Is everything okay, Clem?” She hesitated for a moment, looking down at her hands in her lap. “It’s hard to relax when I’m around everyone.” She said faintly. “It’s hard to trust that I can stay that close.” Clem knew she could trust Luke. To anyone else, she wasn’t sure if she would confess such a thing. Luke frowned, pitying the young girl. “Hey,” he said softly. “If you’re not tired yet, just hang here with me. Stay warm, then you can go over there to sleep.” Clem nodded, even though Luke knew he would watch over her the moment she went to bed. He didn’t want her to be that far away. Her worried about her.

Nick: Nick knew this would only be temporary, but it didn’t make things any better. He hated nights like these. Sleeping on the dirt killed his back, but it was better than nothing at all. Before he crawled into his sleeping bag, he turned to the fire to ensure it was safely burning. That’s when he spotted Clementine, a ways off into the darkness, away from the fire, curling into her sleeping bag. He glanced around, noting everyone else was asleep, and drew closer. “Why are you all the way out here?” “It’s quieter.” Clementine said, without turning to look at him. In reality, she didn’t want to get too attached. She knew she shouldn’t. It was only going to cause more hurt later. Aren’t you cold?” “I’m fine.” Clementine was laying down, clutching her makeshift pillow, eyes closed. Nick frowned. He felt for her. He knew what it was like to isolate yourself. She must have struggled through so much. She was too afraid to get close to them, emotionally and, now, physically. “Try to have a good sleep.” Clementine said nothing, curling into herself, already feeling the chill of the cool night air.

Pete: Pete would sigh to himself, stretching his back after setting up his sleeping bag. He had made the fire and hauled the wood, and he could really feel it in his muscles. As he turned to rest by the fire, taking a sip from the wine bottle they had saved from the cabin, he spotted shuffling in the distance. His hand instinctively went to the knife on his hip until he realized what it was. He took a quick swing and wandered over. “Clem, what are you doing?” He turned, seeing just how far she was from the fire. “You’ll freeze over here.” “I like the cold.” Pete hesitated, then sat down, registering what was going on. “What’s really going on?” “I like privacy.” “Clem,” Pete pushed gently. He knew a broken person when he saw one. He also knew an anxious, distrustful person. “I know something’s eating at you.” Clementine closed her eyes. “It’s just hard to sleep that close to other people.” She confessed. Pete nodded, his heart pained for the child. “I’ll stay and take guard if you’d like to sleep closer to the fire,” he offered. Clem hesitated, eyes opening. “Maybe.” Was all she said. Pete knew he couldn’t push it, so waited for her to make the decision herself. One day at a time. One step at a time.

Carlos: Carlos ensured Sarah was in her sleeping bag, ready for bed, before he turned to the fire. He was going to control it more and sit awake, unable to sleep after such a day. His mind was too active. Just as he went to tend to the flames, he heard rustling in the distance and turned, spotting Clementine curling into her sleeping bag and falling asleep. He didn’t hesitate and went straight to her. “Clementine?” She opened her eyes without moving her already-resting head. “Why are you all the way out here? There’s plenty of room.” “I’m okay.” Clem said, closing her eyes again, as if to ignore him. “I like it out here.” “You’ll get too cold during the night.” “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse.” Carlos frowned, hands on his hoops at how stubborn she was being. If she was his child, he would’ve pulled her right to the fire. But, she wasn’t. Instead, he left without a word, but set a folded up extra blanket beside her in case she needed it throughout the night.

Sarah: Sarah found nights like this scary but exciting. It felt like a sleepover. She’d barely had any of those before the world seemed to collapse at the seams. What made it actually feel like a sleepover was Clementine - someone around her age. They could gossip all night over whispers and soft giggles. As Sarah turned around, searching for Clementine so she could pull her sleeping bag closer, but couldn’t see her. In fact, she couldn’t see her anywhere. “Clementine?” She called nervously, not wanting to wake the others. “What?” Came a soft reply, off in the distance. Sarah picked up her bag and drew closer, spotting Clementine in the corner of their small, enclosed area. “What are you doing all the way over here?” “I like the privacy.” She said passively. Sarah hesitated, turning around and staring at the fire, lighting up the filled sleeping bags full of their team. With a deep breath, Sarah laid her sleeping bag down and curled in. “I’ll join you.” Clem didn’t dispute her decision. Clementine watched with one eye open, shocked she was even willing to. “Gosh, it’s freezing over here.” Sarah mumbled, curling herself deeper into her bag. Clem smirked and closed her eyes, feeling cozy with her friend by her side.

Alvin: Alvin sighed, stepping away from the fire to cool off. He had been the one to arrange the logs around the fire, keeping everyone close to the heat. As he wandered away, he spotted Clementine, resting in the corner, curling into her bag. “What are you doing all the way out here?” Alvin asked, setting his hands on his hips. Clementine glanced up, sitting upright in her bag. “It’s nice over here.” “Nicer than by the fire?” “Quieter.” Alvin hesitated, slowly connecting the pieces together. He had seen it before with Sarah; isolation. She was overwhelmed with all of the changes. She was too young to deal with everything the day had offered her. What this world had offered her. “Well, at least let me bring you another blanket, okay?” He asked gently. “Then, I’ll leave you be.” Clementine only nodded, not wanting to argue. Besides, it was chilly in the corner. Maybe it would be nice. Besides, Alvin had always looked out for her right from the moment they first met. He always knew what was best.

Rebecca: Rebecca groaned as she eased herself into a seat. She needed to sit up for a while before attempting to go to bed. Her back was already killing her thanks to her pregnancy, and needed to sit upright to stretch before she fell asleep on the dirt road they were stationed on. Noticing shuffling in the distance, Rebecca’s heart tensed. Then, Clementine emerged from the shows, adjusting her hat and going for a sip of some of their clean water. “Clem,” Rebecca said, an eyebrow raised. “Come here.” Clementine hesitated, then caved and drew closer. “What are you doing over there?” Now, Clem raised a brow. “Getting ready to sleep?” Rebecca scoffed. “No you’re not. All the way over there.” Clementine said nothing. “Bring your sleeping bag closer.” “I like it over there.” Rebecca paused, studying her expression. It was blank, empty, as though there was nothing left inside of her. “Are you going to be warm enough?” Clem nodded. Just as Clementine turned around again, Rebecca stopped her. “Take this at least.” She said, handing Clementine a tattered old blanket. ‘It’s the only extra we have.” Cautiously, Clem took it, nodded in thanks, then continued on her way. It wasn’t a lot, but it was all Rebecca could think to do.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

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sluttyshima · 2 years

Text

Hot cocoa kisses

Warnings: suggestive content (making out, light petting) but nothing explicit

Characters: Tamaki Amajiki x reader

Words: ~1.8k

AN: A repost of a request from my old account.

“It’s a good thing we booked a place for the night,” you comment. Large, wet flakes of snow hit your passenger side window as you watch. “It’s really starting to come down now. The roads are probably going to start getting bad soon.”

Glancing over at your husband, you gauge his reaction. A lot of things make Tamaki nervous, and you wonder if driving in bad weather is one of them. But he seems calm enough, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, which he squeezes gently when he feels your gaze on him.

“Hopefully it’ll clear up by the time we have to head out in the morning,” he speaks softly. “We still have several hours of driving ahead of us.”

Humming softly in response, you lean your head against the window and let your eyes drift closed. Something about the long car ride has left you feeling exhausted. Hours of sitting with only a couple of short pit stops leave your body feeling cramped and uncomfortable. At least you can ignore the discomfort for a little while by sleeping.

You are awakened by the sound of your car door opening and a blast of icy cold air. Tamaki leans over your body, unbuckling you before lifting you up into his arms bridal style. Ignoring your protests and claims that you aren’t too tired to walk on your own, he carries you up the snow-covered path leading to the small cabin with a large number 18 painted in gold on the door. Snowflakes swirl all around the two of you, limiting your visibility.

The indigo-haired male carries you straight to the bedroom. Barely awake, you simply blink your tired eyes as he leaves and then returns a few minutes later with your overnight bag. He helps you change into the warm pajamas you had packed, and does the bare minimum of your normal nightly routine before pulling the quilts over you and tucking you in. You try to stay awake, wanting to wait for him to finish getting ready for bed. But your body betrays you, and within minutes you are asleep again.

“-roads clear up.” Tamaki’s voice wakes you in the morning. You crack one eye open, noticing him sitting on the edge of the bed with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Not wanting to interrupt him, you simply lay back and listen. “Um, I’m not sure. Hopefully by tomorrow. Yeah. No, we’re okay. Yeah. Okay, we’ll see you guys when we get there. Bye.”

As soon as he ends the call, he turns towards you. When he notices that you are awake, he gives you a small smile. “Good morning, love,” he leans over your body to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm,” you mumble tiredly. Pushing yourself into a sitting position, you narrow your eyes at him. “So what was the call about? Is something wrong?”

Your husband sighs. “Well, it looks like there’s a small hitch in our plans. The roads are too dangerous for travel. I called the office and extended our reservation for another night, so we’re fine to stay here for now. But that means we’re going to be a bit late for the holiday festivities.”

For a moment you remain silent, thoughtful. Then, a wide grin spreads over your face. “So what you’re saying is, we get a snow day today?”

At your expression, Tamaki chuckles. “Only you could be this excited about being snowed in,” he teased. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulls you closer so that you’re curled into his side. “I picked up a few things from the little convenience store in the main building. You go get comfortable in front of the fireplace, and I’ll make breakfast.”

Still dressed in your pajamas, you follow him out of the bedroom. Sitting on the Victorian style loveseat, you hold your palms out towards the crackling fire. The smell of food cooking wafts out from the kitchen, making your mouth water.

“Here you go, love,” your husband returns with a tray full of food and two steaming mugs. He places them on the coffee table in front of you before taking a seat next to you.

The two of you begin eating in silence. Lifting one of the mugs to your lips, you take a tentative sip. The taste is rich and chocolatey, the liquid creamy and warm as it slides across your tongue and down your throat. You let out a little hum of appreciation, “Mm, hot cocoa!”

“I thought you would like it,” Tamaki grins. His eyes zero in on a spot at the corner of your mouth. Cupping your face in his hands, he leans forward and kisses you deeply. His tongue slides against your lips, gathering a few stray drops of your drink before pulling back just enough to look in your eyes. “You taste sweet,” he murmurs.

Meal forgotten, you wrap your arms around his neck and tug at his hair as his lips crash against yours again. This time his tongue slides past your lips, the wet muscle exploring every inch of your mouth and rubbing tantalizingly against your own to taste the chocolate flavor that lingers there. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging in slightly as he pulls you into his lap, one leg on either side of him so that you’re straddling him.

You let out a soft sigh as his lips stray from yours, kissing a trail down your jaw to suckle at your neck. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against your skin. “So perfect. I love you so much.”

“Tama,” you gasp as his teeth nip at the junction of your neck and shoulder. It’s so easy to get lost in his sweet words and even sweeter touches. His fingers trail along the curves of your body that he knows so well.

When he eventually pulls back, both of you are breathing heavily. “Sorry,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t mean for things to get so heated.”

A grin slowly made its way onto your face. “I know of a way that we can cool down.”

Soon, the two of you were bundled up and plodding through the heavy drifts of snow. Tamaki had one of your gloved hands clasped tightly in his own, wanting to help you keep your balance in case you were to slip. The air was frigid, but the multiple layers you wore plus the scarf wrapped around the lower half of your face was keeping you warm enough… for now.

“Hm, should we build a snowman? Or make some snow angels?” you asked.

Your partner used his free hand to rub his chin thoughtfully. “Making snow angels would probably cause the snow to soak through our clothes and we’d have to go inside. So let’s save that for last, and make a snowman first.”

“Sensible as always,” you giggle. “C’mon, baby, let loose a little! This is supposed to be a fun snow day, remember?”

“I know,” he shot back, playfully glaring at you. “And I’m trying to make sure that the day stays fun. Neither of us are going to enjoy ourselves if we end up getting frostbite.”

The two of you continue the teasing banter back and forth even as you begin working together to build the snowman. But when Tamaki’s back is turned towards you, you suddenly have another activity in mind. The ball of snow you form is far too small to be useful for your snowman, but it’s the perfect size to throw.

“Hey babe,” you call out, trying to get his attention. As soon as he turns towards you, you let the snowball fly. It pelts him in the shoulder, catching him off guard. Before he can react, you’re running away, trying to hide behind a nearby tree.

Eyes wide, it takes him a moment to process what has just happened. But then he begins to grin, and his eyes narrow at you. “Oh love, you have no idea what you’ve just started.”

You feel like a child again as you and your husband chase each other and throw snowballs. The sound of laughter and playful squeals echo in the otherwise silent forest around you. The once crisp white blanket of snow is now covered in footprints.

As you let another snowball fly, aiming for the back of Tamaki’s head, he turns. You shout in an attempt to warn him, but it’s too late. The projectile smashes into his face, crumbling away into a light powder.

Hands coming to cover your gaping mouth, you stare in shock as you wait for his reaction. Is he going to be angry at you? You didn’t hurt him, did you?

“Oh, you little minx.” The grin that he sends your way is almost predatory, sending shivers down your spine. “I suggest you run, sweetheart. I’ll even give you a three second head start.”

You spin around, immediately sprinting in the opposite direction. Your heart is racing as you hear him loudly count down from three. And then the sound of snow crunching underfoot warns you that he has given chase, and is quickly gaining on you.

“I’m sorry!” you scream, just as his arms wrap tightly around your waist. You squeal as he lets himself fall sideways, pulling you with him into the snow. He rolls over so that his body is on top of yours, causing you to sink into the cold white drift below you. Freezing cold hands settle on either side of your face, squishing your cheeks together as he kisses every exposed inch of skin.

In between peals of laughter, you barely manage to gasp out the words, “Tama, baby, stop! I give, okay? You win, you win!”

His nose nuzzles against yours, and he presses one last kiss to your lips. Then he reaches for your hand, helping you up and cradling you against his chest. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, indigo eyes roaming up and down your form as he scans you for any signs of injury.

“No,” you assure him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. “But I am starting to get pretty cold now. Should we head inside?”

Instead of answering, he lifts you up into his arms and begins carrying you back towards the cabin. Once he crosses the threshold, he sets you down gently. “I’ll make us some more hot cocoa,” he says. “While you change into some dry clothes.”

The rest of the day is spent cuddling in front of the fire with your husband - sharing warmth, stories, and several hot cocoa flavored kisses.

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki x reader #mha #bnha #tamaki fluff

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crinkled-emotions · 4 months

Text

Day 11: "Can you stand?"

It's Friday night, I spent $300 on a new battery for my car yesterday so I'm sitting quietly, eating cereal for dinner and watching the Taylor Swift Folklore doco thing on Disney+ which is honestly such a vibe. I wish I could write songfics again I have so many thoughts all of a sudden lmao.

Initially this was a whump prompt, but I wanted to write something happy so here are some dumb (drunk) Daggers on the sauce :)

Little treat of suggested Hangster; it's Friday night and yeah. Hangster, right?

The Daggers had all dressed warm for the occasion; even Phoenix who was from Colorado and used to subzero temperatures had donned her puffer jacket and a warm hat. Hangman, having not really seen a real Texas winter since he left home at 18, was pouting and almost shaking from the cold as he stood close to the fire. The team had joked that Rooster was going to show up in a Hawaiian shirt and jeans even in freezing temperatures but he’d dressed warm, beanie on and moustache turned downward as he tried to get Hangman to move over in front of the wood fire.

“Remind me again why we did this?” Payback muttered. He and Fanboy had curled up on the nearest couch, fully dressed and a blanket to counteract the cold air. They’d all only gotten to the cabin in the snow about an hour ago and were still waiting for it to warm up. Bob was standing off to the side with Coyote but both moved when they realised Hangman had managed to get the fire going a little harder.

“Because last Christmas, no offence guys, fuckin’ sucked,” Fanboy commented. No one could disagree; it had sucked. There was no particular reason... it just sucked.

“And we could do with some time out of San Diego,” Phoenix agreed. She glanced over her shoulder at Hangman, an eyebrow raised.

“Are you good?”

“I’m cold, of course I’m not good,” he complained. Everyone snorted in amusement, then Bob quietly cleared his throat.

“I did... bring something that might help with that.”

“Bob, sex toys are not group conversation topics,” Coyote deadpanned which earned laughter amongst the group. Bob rolled his eyes.

“No, asshole, I meant the hot chocolate in my bag.”

“Wait; I have schnapps.”

Fanboy kicked the blanket on to Payback who happily took it and went to grab said alcohol while Bob produced the hot chocolate and went into the kitchen to start making it. Rooster smirked at Hangman, who glared straight back.

“You still cold?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

Payback patted the spot Fanboy had left empty.

“It’s so much better under the blanket, man.”

Hangman grumbled, but promptly flopped into the spot. Payback tossed him the spare blanket on the back of the couch and Phoenix stifled a giggle when the only piece of him visible was a tuft of blonde hair. Fanboy waved the bottle of peppermint schnapps on his way into the kitchen to help Bob, which earned cheers and clapping. Coyote nudged his best friend.

“At least it’s not tequila; you’re a slut on tequila.”

“Everyone’s a little slutty when tequila’s involved,” Hangman muttered. He yawned and Payback grinned.

“Think he’s finally warming up.”

“The only person more of an asshole when they’re cold is Mav,” Rooster mused. The smell of hot chocolate wafted through the room and they all admitted to themselves that they’d probably be hungover tomorrow... except for Bob, who would do what he usually did and make a solid hangover breakfast. That and make sure everyone was drinking water before they went to bed.

Considering they were in the middle of nowhere in a cabin in the snow, the Daggers were actually enjoying themselves. Maverick had declined the invitation, happy to spend Christmas with Penny and Amelia but had requested photos when they managed to get into the small town nearby. They’d done a food shop before arriving and were now thoroughly sloshed on peppermint schnapps hot chocolate, the nachos they’d managed to put together tipsy and the episode of Bondi Rescue they’d started but had to stop because they were too busy giggling at the worst moments (Fanboy) or complaining that they weren’t able to follow the story (Rooster). Phoenix had managed to convince Hangman to share his blanket and she was now sitting beside him, pretending she gave a shit about some college football thing he was ranting about.

Truly; if you asked her, she’d tell you she had no idea what he was on about.

She just knew she had a warm cup of hot chocolate in her hands and she was leaning on his shoulder as he talked a million miles an hour. Bob was watching the others as they milled about the cabin, warming up with said spiked hot chocolate and the wood fire Bob was now (firmly) in charge of considering they were all sloshed. He’d already had to shoo away multiple drunk Daggers from turning it into a cabin fire rather than a comfortable warmth.

“Don’t you think y’all should get to bed? You’re warm enough now to sleep through the night,” he suggested. To his surprise none of them complained, gathering their phones and each other to go to bed. Bob had been planning to share a room with Rooster but when he watched Hangman lean in to whisper in his ear and receive a positive response he made the educated decision that it was better for him to sleep on the couch. From past experience, they did tend to seek each other out but nothing actually happened; they’d wake up fully clothed, hungover and tangled together. He wasn’t going to get between them, other than making sure they were in the recovery position before he went to sleep. It was his past EMT training; they were all mostly responsible adults but he always checked on his friends before going to bed when they’d all been drinking considering he wasn’t interested in that activity.

The next morning, sure enough, Hangman stirred with his head on a warm chest and what felt like a sledgehammer in his head. He groaned, lifting a hand to his forehead. Rooster huffed.

“Dude; I was really enjoying that.”

Jake glanced up, smiling at Bradley.

“Happened again?”

“Just like any other time. At least you’re warm now. S’lot more quiet when you’re warm.”

Hangman reached up to take Rooster’s phone from him, interrupting the tiktok he’d apparently been watching. He went to move on to his stomach but Rooster stopped him.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. There was a lot of spiked hot chocolate last night.”

“Don’t remind me.”

They lay there together for a little longer. Finally Rooster sucked in a breath.

“I need to get up.”

“Can you stand?”

Silence.

“Fuck off, Seresin. Can you stand my ass.”

Jake shifted off his chest, watching Bradley make his way to the end of the bed. He paused on the edge, grimacing.

“Still findin’ your legs?” Jake grinned sleepily. He got a middle finger salute for his efforts.

“Go find Bob; he’s probably starting breakfast.”

Bradley finally stood, making his way into the bathroom down the hallway. Jake watched him go, groaning.

“Of course you had to mention breakfast. Hey, fuck you asshole.”

“Ask nicely!”

That was the last glimpse Jake got of Bradley before he went into the bathroom. The door softly closed behind him and Jake sighed.

Time to go find Bob... and the others, potentially. He did hear whispers of a snowball fight the night before.

“How is everyone this morning- woah, Tash. You look like... don’t worry, I won’t finish that sentence.”

Apparently Phoenix had gone to bed with her mascara still on and hadn’t had a chance to scrub it off yet- she was hunched over at the island in the kitchen, cradling the cup of coffee and the bottle of water Bob had placed in front of her. Coyote looked up when Hangman came in, smirking.

“You and Bradshaw?”

“What- no, not like that man. He’s like a furnace.”

Coyote snorted, but offered Hangman the Tylenol and a bottle of water anyway.

“Sure, whatever you say. How is he this morning?”

“Showering I think- Bob, you’re my favourite person right now.”

“Oh!”

Bob turned from the stove where he was frying bacon and scrambling eggs, a blush covering his cheeks.

“I- I guess I just thought because I wasn’t hungover I’d make y’all breakfast.”

“We always appreciate it, Bob, thanks... and for keeping us safe. You think we don’t know about the recovery position or forcing us to drink water so we don’t wake up dehydrated and hungover? We’re so grateful.”

“Payback’s right, man,” Fanboy affirmed, “you’re the newest to our group but we do appreciate you.”

“Damn, what’s this? Appreciating Bob hours? Without me?”

Hangman stared dead ahead when he felt a kiss pressed to his temple as Rooster passed by him, smelling clean and like he’d brushed his teeth. Coyote met Hangman’s blank stare and stifled his laugh into his elbow as a cough, nudging Phoenix who was still curled up on a bar stool.

“You good, ‘Nix?”

“Fuck off, Bradshaw. I get it, you’re big and strong and alcohol doesn’t affect you as bad-“

“-do you not remember that one time I literally hurled in Penny’s carpark and she came to see if I was alright?”

He was in a good mood; Fanboy and Payback exchanged a glance, then stood to help Bob with finishing breakfast.

Hangman was starting to get cold again and glanced over his shoulder at the wood fire that had kept them going overnight. It was out and by the looks of it would take a while to get going. He took a look around and did the next best thing; plastered his body against Rooster’s side and internally hoped the warmth radiating from him would keep him toasty while Fanboy and Coyote got the fire going again.

“You good?”

Rooster’s moustache twitched in amusement as he glanced down at the other aviator glued to him. Jake nodded, slipping his hands under Bradley’s jacket to get them warm too which earned a hiss.

“Fuck, your hands are cold. A little warning next time would be nice.”

“Tasha lift your head up and open your eyes enough you can see what I’m giving you.”

Bob, forever the former-EMT and good friend, was coaxing her to drink water and take Aspirin whilst the others put everything for breakfast on the coffee table instead of the dining table. He took her cup of coffee from her, leaving her with water.

“Down that and then try to eat some toast. You missed out on Hangman blue-screening because Rooster kissed him.”

“It wasn’t a kiss-“

“-more like a check in-“

Phoenix lifted her head. Fanboy went to get her a makeup wipe, too scared to ask. He figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

“I have no doubt I’ll see it more than I really wanted to later, don’t worry.”

Despite the teasing from their friends, neither Jake or Bradley make a move to separate. Bob shrugged.

“Let’s get you guys some food, maybe we could go see town today if you’re not still legally drunk.”

“We gotta get more hot chocolate... and schnapps.”

“Absolutely not,” Phoenix said at the same time Payback enthusiastically agreed with Coyote’s statement. Rooster glanced down at Hangman and the face he made was so similar to the one he made on the carrier after the Dagger mission that Hangman just burst out laughing.

"They're gonna be so obnoxious this whole trip," Payback sighed.

"Least Hangman's not bitching about being cold," Fanboy supplied. Everyone agreed, including Rooster, and Hangman glared at him.

"Fuck all of you."

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wellthebardsdead · 11 months

Text

Riiju-Lei: *seated in the corner club quietly sipping his mead watching Sofie devour her second helping of dinner as she warms up by the fire*

Kaidan: *walks over* right, I got us a room, might have to share beds though.

Riiju-Lei: I’ll sleep on the floor if it means the kid can have a bed- *groans holding his forehead, rubbing around his birthmark in irritation*

Taliesin: another headache? That’s the 8th one in the last 2 days.

Riiju-Lei: it’s fine. I get them daily just- the blood is pumping so loudly in my head it sounds like a drum.

Kaidan: that could be the mead, I know I get like that after a few of them.

Riiju-Lei: heh. I wish, but no, it happens when I’m sober too… my whole life I’ve just… lived with it… but when it happens I… feel… good… in here. *points to his chest*

Taliesin: it… sounds bizarre but maybe these headaches are linked to why you struggle displaying emotions.

Kaidan: Or he could just have a lump in his brain.

Taliesin: And you would know that would you?

Kaidan: are you calling me stupid?

Taliesin: oh kaidan, my sweet pretty buffoon. If a hungry cannibal cracked open your head there wouldn’t be enough inside to cover a small water biscuit.

Kaidan: You little shi-

Riiju-Lei: language… I don’t mind the swearing when it’s just us but we have a kid travelling with us at the moment… *looks over to the fireplace*

Sofie: *yawns and curls up by the fire after finally filling her belly, all safe and clean in her new dress, just looking so happy*

Kaidan: oh- I. *clears his throat* sorry.

Taliesin: Apology accepted~

Kaidan: I- oh I’m going to beat your ass when we’re alone.

Taliesin: is that a threat or a promise~

Kaidan: I- w-will you stop making this weird!

Riiju-Lei: *snickers and gets up walking over to Sofie & picking her up, smiling as she sleepily hugs onto him* I’m going to put her to bed now and turn in myself… long trip back to whiterun tomorrow… goodnight… *walks off to their room*

Taliesin: …I what time does the apothecary in town open tomorrow?…

Kaidan: dunno, why?

Taliesin: I need to ask what could cause constant headaches like that…

*the next morning*

Sofie: *giggling as Riiju lets her ride on his shoulders as he walks to the stables*

Riiju-Lei: *pays the carriage driver and sits Sofie in the cart* get comfortable dear. *looks over to see Kaidan & Taliesin leading the horses over and tying them to the cart as well to walk along side it* ready?

Kaidan: Aye. *climbs onto kia* you lot get comfy in the wagon. I’ll ride ahead and keep an eye out for trouble.

Taliesin: Fine just don’t get yourself IN to trouble. *climbs into the cart and sets his bag down looking a lot more irritated than usual*

Riiju-Lei: *bundling an extra blanket around sofie before closing the canvas tarp to keep them all warm* are you alright?

Taliesin: I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep too well with a bear growling in my ears, stealing the blankets and farting all night.

Riiju-Lei: a bea- *snorts and laughs* I thought I smelt something terrible last night. Here I was dreaming there was a frost troll trying to break into the corner club. *snickers and sits down hugging his scarf around himself*

Taliesin: I think- that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh- who are you and what have you done with LeiLei?

Riiju-Lei: *visibly smiling with no thought or effort put into it* what? I’m still me- I… don’t know what’s come over me I feel… happy. *hands Sofie a snack as the cart starts moving, and the further away from the stables the more his smile fades* that was… odd…

*meanwhile at the docks*

Scouts-many-marshes: In coming ship! Get ready to pull her into port!

Neetrenaza: I don’t recognise those sails, what type of ship is it?

Scouts-many-marshes: One from morrowind, I think the flags are house indoril. *dives into the water to guide it into port*

*Meanwhile on the ship*

Captain: Lord Nerevar. We’ve arrived in skyrim. *steps back and kneels as a golden skinned elf steps out from the darkness of his cabin*

Nerevar: good… If Voryn is here…*pulls on his hood* I’m bringing him home…

#skyrim #riiju-lei dragonborn #dunmer dragonborn #indoril nerevar #nerevar #skyrim taliesin #Kaidan skyrim

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hannibalzero · 3 months

Note

I’m wondering if you ever found that abandoned cabin at clawson’s rest in red dead 2, it’s kinda gruesome but I’d love to know how your Arthur would react to finding it. Especially if he and Charles have little ones.

Oh god the skunk cabin, where the mama never came back and the kids hungry drank the snake oil and died. It tugs at my own heart strings. Was the money worth it? Did the mom abandon the cabin? Was she bucked by a horse and died?

Anywho…..

🦬🦌🦬🦌🦬🦌

Just needed a place to stay for the night, the rain was coming down stronger, horses were tired and then the clap of thunder fallowed with a bright light for a second as lighting struck close by. “Charles you with me?!” Arthur called back checking on his husband. With storms or snow, Arthur tended to call out to his group. Just to know that they were alive and behind him.

“Always!” Charles called back. “You okay with the Papooses*?” He asked urging Tamia up to Arthur.

“For now! Both are on my chest under my vest.” Arthur looked down at the fuzzy heads of his babies. His babies where quite, just how nature made them. But they were awake, scared and warm. Under their Ina’s heavy leather coat. “There’s a cabin, to the right on that hill coming up! Been abandoned for years! Has an overhead for horses too!”

“Let’s go then.” Charles held his shotgun on his hand while Arthur held the lantern for them. “Wolves are deadly in this area!” He spotted the cabin first. “Arthur is that it? With the skunk pelts?”

“Thank Christ, yeah that’s it! come on. Yah!” Arthur encouraged Rosie to the cabin.

Rosie being a smart mare, saw a barn and knew what she wanted. She trotted happily down to the barn, it had a goat skull over the doors.

The two men dismounted their horses and worked the barn open. Charles wouldn’t let Arthur in. He checked the barn before allowing his family inside, Charles lit the hanging lantern and Arthur took care of the horses. Horses tended to and fed, both parents went up to the cabin.

Arthur kicked the door in and Charles went inside checking for life.

Arthur came behind him shaking off the rain, it was dark and Charles was starting up the fire. “Hurry daddy hurry, it’s cold.” Arthur talked for the twins, taking the dry tent canvas out of his saddle bags and laying it out before the fire. Finally undoing the wrap around his chest and undoing his vest he laid the twins down on their rabbit hide blanket.

“Imma tryin’” Charles finally got the dry wood to light and stared at the back of the house, a strange look on his face. “Arthur….” He said softly catching the outlaws attention now.

Arthur fallowed Charles gaze and saw it.

“Christ…I….i hadn’t any idea…I wouldn’t have-“ Arthur mumbled to himself as he took in the sight. His hands starting shaking.

In the back of the cabin on the bunk beds were two dead children. Arthur had seen a lot of death, it came for them all…but these children tugged at his heart. No smell of decomposition, no warning…particularly mummified. One was on the bed, curled into a ball. The other beside the bed on the floor.

Arthur walked over feeling tears prick at his eyes. “…..they was starvin…drank the medicine…” he pointed out the empty bottle allowing himself to cry quietly. He looked around and opened the nightstand drawer and found a note.

“Arthur?”

“Mama went after their stolen money, was gonna be gone for two days. Boys were good and stayed in the cabin-“ he wiped his tears away. “Charles, ya watch the Babies for me? I need ta…” he gestured to the corpse hat hiding his eyes.

“Let me dig the holes, you stay inside.” Charles rested a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. He kissed the man’s forehead.

Arthur slowly nodded “alright, illa clean up the cabin a bit..take care of them boys.” He mumbled “least we can do for’em.” He hugged Charles for a long while, trying to support Charles too. Both men were bad at emotions but felt them all the same.

Charles moved back after a moment, grabbed the shovel from the saddle bags went outside.

“I swear, I amma do right by ya two.” Arthur mumbled to his twins. Changing them into new gowns and cloth nappies. “I ain’t gonna abandon ya, yall and ya daddy are stuck with me.” Arthur looked to the bodies and stood up.

Taking the old bedsheets, he wrapped the corpse in them. With careful hands and mumbling a half remembered prayer to the boys.

“Tell’em Arthur morgan sent ya.” Arthur softly laughed at his own joke, walking outside to Charles in the rain and laying the children to rest.

He hoped they found their mama in the afterlife.

Exhaustion taking over the men, they went back into the cabin. Changing clothes and drying off best they could. Laying by the fire for some sleep, the twins tucked between the two men.

#my writing #charthur #answered asks #asks #red dead redemption 2 #dabble #tw child death #tw implied mpreg #tw death #kinda sad now #btw twins need names

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smurphyse · 1 year

Text

Wonder Woman vs. Cheetah | Eddie Munson

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Warnings: arguments, dream walking, violence, fights, gore

Summary: You and Eddie get into an argument. When you storm off, you both have strange experiences

Eddie sits with Zero on the floor. She's meticulous, laser focused as she sifts through puzzle pieces like she's defusing a bomb.

She'd led him to a closet door that he hadn't noticed before and pulled it open to reveal it was filled from floor to ceiling with puzzle boxes. Zero let Eddie choose, proudly letting him know she'd already completed each puzzle inside.

He'd chosen one of Times Square at night, drawn to the neon lights and streaks of headlights in the night. Zero sits with him on the floor, her hip pressed against his shoulder as Eddie lay on his side on the rug.

"You do the edges first," she rambles on, moving pieces with her mind in front of him as she sorts through others by hand. Eddie watches in awe as they move around into piles, amazed that she can do it without looking or even seeming to really think about it. "Work from the outside in, and it all comes together perfectly!"

She's nearly jumping in her spot; she's so excited about this damned puzzle. Her hair is thrown up again in a messy ponytail, curls framing the curve of her cheek and bouncing about with each happy clap of her hands as she puts two pieces together.

She's so…awkward, it's painful. Zero holds herself with confidence when she's barely noticing his existence, but the moment Eddie interacts with her it all goes out the window. Like now, she's so focused on her puzzle, she doesn't notice that the sleeve of her flannel is riding up.

Eddie cocks his head as she talks to nobody but herself, eyeing the tattoo on her wrist. 000 in thin black inking almost hidden by her tanned skin. It's small enough that Eddie hadn't noticed it even in the pond, but now he can't seem to take his eye off it.

Her own father tattooed her with a number…and put her in a cold sterile cage to be played with like a lab rat. And Eddie thought his childhood sucked.

"I think the last time I did this puzzle it was the lights that got me." Zero frowns, leaning over and squinting at the pieces. "They're all the same color."

Eddie makes a noncommittal hum, watching her in the soft light. The puzzle pieces move all around them, the fairy lights around the cabin buzzing, flickering now and then. Even the radio cuts out sometimes though all Zero has are tapes to listen to.

She'd made a fire in the place with a flick of her wrist, and the amber flickered over the high points of her face. Warm and sweet, it glimmers across her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose and chin. The shadows carve in the hollows of her cheeks and under her jaw. It stains under her eyes, and as Eddie lounges on his side he can finally see her exhaustion.

"Four at once, yes!" she laughs heartily, lifting up the little piece she'd put together. She turns and shows it to him, but his untouched pile of pieces makes her deflate. "You okay?"

The lights dim as she cocks her head nervously, but when Eddie smiles at her they brighten. "Yeah. You said the edge pieces first?"

"Yes!" she grins, and the bulbs stutter with their heightened glow. "So, it makes the frame…"

Eddie listens to her all night until Zero sends him to bed. When he hobbles to the room, he chances a glance back at her, only to see her continue on without him. Her ever-moving eyes flick around the floor, puzzle pieces flying about her head like a halo in the hazy light. He starts to see how many things she’s controlling at once, and it worries him.

How long can she keep this going?

The next morning, Zero sits in the same spot, working on the same puzzle. In the kitchen pots and pans whizz about making breakfast, the scent of fresh bread rising in the oven.

"Were you out here all night?" Eddie asks cautiously, eyeing a particular pot that sizzles with something wonderful, a spatula flipping potatoes and peppers around. "Did you even sleep?"

The pots stop midair as she turns with wide eyes. The bags under her eyes are more noticeable in the morning light that pours through the plant-filled windows, but she just shrugs.

"A bit."

Brushing a hand along the door frame, Eddie watches the lights, listens to the fluctuating hum going through the small cabin. The food being prepared stills sometimes, as though she forgets she’s making it, but she never gets up from her spot on the floor.

"Hey, why does this place get electricity but the rest of the Upside Down doesn't?"

The puzzle pieces fall to the ground with soft clatters, her head cocking to the side, "What?"

"Well, it's just… when we were in the Upside Down there weren't any lights," Eddie starts, making his way toward her. The cane clicks along with his steps, holding him upright. "They only lit up if someone was in the same spot in the real world. Does someone live here in the real world?"

Zero frowns like he's an idiot, "No. If they lit up when someone was there, the whole town would light up all the time. It only works if someone with powers walks through it."

"So somebody powerful lives here in the real world?"

"No," she says, growing irritated. "It’s abandoned. We’re in the middle of nowhere, Eddie.”

Zero gets up from her spot and bypasses him to go to the kitchen. She’s careful to sidestep around his cane, snatching a pot out of the air as it pulls from a cabinet. Two coffee cups escape before the door shuts, flying their way to the coffee pot. The carafe lifts and pours into them, and one is brought to Eddie without Zero even looking his way.

“So, how does it work, then?” he asks, taking the cup from midair, feeling oddly like he should thank it like thanking a helpful ghost.

“I just… think it and it happens.” Zero finishes cooking and plates the food, not caring to look his way. Eddie sees the tension in her shoulders, but he needs answers. He needs to understand. Plus, he’s just plain curious.

“So, you’re always thinking about the electricity?” he asks, shocked. “Isn’t that distracting?”

The lights flash brightly as her jaw tightens. Zero takes a deep breath and they fade to normal. “I used to think about it a lot, but now it just kinda happens.”

“What about the light around the Haven? Do you do that, too?”

"Why are you asking me this?" Zero snaps, dropping the plates on the counter. She turns to face him, her eyes alight with frustration.

Eddie leans on his good hip and flaps his arms in exasperation. "The more I learn about this place… I don't know, we could close the gates forever. Maybe we could destroy it for good."

Her face falls, "Des…destroy it?"

"With your help, we could destroy the whole fucking place, Zero," Eddie whispers excitedly. He takes a few steps toward her, giving her his most reassuring smile. "With you and Eleven, this hellscape can be gone forever. It couldn't hurt anyone ever again."

Her chest heaves as she stares wild-eyed up at him. Eddie only tangentially notices the way the whole place shakes along with her. He's too focused on the plan forming in his mind.

"This is my home," she whispers. Her voice trembles, small and afraid. Eddie takes a chance and places his hands on her shoulders.

"You can have a better one. You could…come back with me, make a home in Hawkins or somewhere else since I’m a fugitive."

She shakes her head adamantly, "I'm not going back to that place, Eddie."

"You wouldn't have to think about electricity, or making the music play non stop. There's people who could care about you," he says solemnly. He doesn't want this girl who saved him to be alone forever, and the thought of never seeing her again leaves a sour taste in his mouth. "We could figure it out together. You can see Eleven again."

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" Zero snarls suddenly, shoving him away from her.

Eddie stumbles back, barely catching himself on the doorframe. The coffee crashes to the floor, ceramic pieces shattering across the wood. They fly up in the same instant, piecing themselves back together and landing on the counter. The walls shake, the plates and utensils drying by the sink clatter in time. The lights flicker and the wind picks up.

And for the first time, Eddie's afraid of the woman before him.

"You shouldn't be here," she growls lowly. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Dammit, Zero!" Eddie snaps back, his brows furrowing. "I want to see my uncle, my friends. I'm scared, and in pain, and I want to go home."

The shaking stops just as suddenly as he noticed it, the entire cabin blanketing in darkness and silence. Everything goes still, and after taking a deep breath, Zero turns on her heel and walks out of the cabin. The door slams shut behind her, but Eddie doesn't plan on letting her get off that easy. Hobbling after her, he flings it back open and stomps onto the porch.

She's just at the tree line, stomping barefoot into the forest. The Upside Down rages outside the Haven, all purples and reds of doom and gloom. If he knew better he'd say the dome around him seemed smaller. But Eddie didn't know.

"Zero!" he calls, but she just flips him off over her shoulder before disappearing into the foliage. "Zero, come o-!"

A harsh flapping howls around him in a flash, a giant shadow casting everything in darkness. Eddie yelps in a panic as the gigantic bird creature lands in front of him. The ground shakes as its wings stretch out to stop him, and Eddie falls harshly on his ass.

He finds himself staring up at the terrifying monster that looms above. Thin skin stretches across spindly bone, red and raw underneath the Haven sunlight. The demadog pops out from behind it and wags its tail at him, and it's all Eddie can do not to piss his pants.

Leave her be, a booming voice echoes through his mind.

Lying helpless on the ground, Eddie pants as his brain struggles to process. "W-what?"

The eyeless head cocks to one side, Leave her be, boy.

Eddie gulps. He stares. The creature takes a step toward him. Eddie scrambles back, desperate to get away. His back hits the bottom stair of the cabin porch, and he’s trapped.

"Did this fucking bird just talk to me?" he whispers incredulously. He must be going crazy.

This bird can do more than talk, it comes again, making Eddie whimper like a child. It leans down until its beak is mere inches from his face. He can smell its hot breath as it fans across his chin.

She protects us. We protect her.

"I-I don't wanna hurt her," Eddie mutters, hating the way his voice shakes. "I want to stop people from getting hurt again like I did."

She's done enough. The voice is firm, unyielding in his mind… and somehow British.

"But…we can stop Henry-."

You threaten her safety, it snarls, echoing through his brain like a bullet. You're the only danger I see. It would be best to kill you.

"Then why don't you?" Eddie asks defensively. He gets to his feet, clinging to the cane for support. "Actually, why don't you get her the hell out of here? If you're her protector, then you know what's waiting out there!"

I do as she tells me, it snaps, clicking its large beak. Its wings flutter in its irritation, waving a gust of wind over Eddie. She wants you alive.

It turns to look where Zero disappeared into the trees, barefoot and with no protection but her powers. The voice is sad as it whispers somewhere deep inside him.

You don't understand. You couldn't.

"Then help me understand."

The large head swivels back to look at him, somehow seeming surprised even with no face. Eddie takes a deep breath, licks his lips as he tries to make his case to a monster of nightmares. "She can't have a life here, and the real world needs her help. Eleven needs her help."

The bird nods once, Eleven. She grieves the lost children.

"She still has Eleven. I don't think we can win without her."

The sigh that emanates from the creature bounces inside of Eddie, long and wistful. You must promise that if given the chance, you'll free her from this place.

"I promise," he says. Eddie means it with everything he has, and the love for Zero is clear from this thing. Eddie wrinkles a brow, "What's your name again?"

Screech. This is Clem, it booms, waving at the demadog. Clem wiggles her tail but keeps a distance from Eddie, like a dog who obviously wants to jump but doesn't have permission.

"I'm Eddie," he says, sticking out his hand, then thinking better of it. "It's…nice to meet you."

That is yet to be seen.

Angry tears stream down my face as I glare out at the Darkness. After stomping off into the woods, I found a tree and climbed it, desperate to get away from Eddie and his nagging. The sun streams through the trunks and branches, the wind whistles through and around me. The warmth from the sun steams into my skin, and everything is natural. The way it's supposed to be.

They want to destroy my home. They want to take it all away from me… I can't survive outside of this place, not any longer than I can when I go into town. The people, the sounds, they're all too much. Screech and Clem… they can't survive here without me. The only way the three of us will make it out alive is if I give Eddie to Henry sooner than later.

I want to see my uncle, my friends. I'm scared, and in pain, and I want to go home.

He's just a kid.What the hell am I gonna do? How can I give him to Henry knowing he'll only be more scared, in so much more pain, and further away from home?

Eddie doesn't know, and how could he? Killing this place would kill me. Maybe I should help them. I could finally sleep. Maybe… maybe I'd even be at peace.

You can see Eleven again.

I'd all but pushed Eleven out of my mind before Eddie brought her up the other day. I'd forced myself to forget about the lab, Papa, to at least not think about them every second of the day. I stopped thinking about the kids Henry killed, all my other siblings besides Eight. On a good day, I forgot about Henry too.

When that happens, it's my world again. My safe place. The Darkness doesn't exist and neither does my past. I don't even have a future on those days, I just exist. It's perfect.

I have a feeling that will never happen again.

Before I can really think about it, my eyes flutter shut. My mind focuses on the natural hum of the Haven. It's instinct, it's painful. It's what Papa taught me, to be connected to the world.

To my siblings.

Darkness envelops me, and I'm not in the tree anymore. I'm in a hospital room.

A girl with bright red hair lays in the bed, tubes tangling their way around her small body. Casts bind her arms and legs. She's frail, and I know there's not much of her left in there. I don't know her, but I know the girl at her bedside.

She's so much older now, almost a woman. She has curly hair like me and olive skin, full lips and cheeks that turn red when she cries. She has a laugh that jars you, but a shyness that betrays the want for laughter.

My sister. Eleven.

"Please, Max," she murmurs, so full of pleading and pain my heart twists in my chest. "Please wake up. I need you."

She has to be my height now, if not taller. The last I saw her, she would cling to my hospital gown and gaze up at me with those big brown eyes. She needed me and I abandoned her.

"I brought Wonder Woman," Eleven says tearfully. "This time, she's fighting Cheetah…"

I watch from this agonizing distance as she reaches a shaky hand into her bag and pulls out a comic book. Wonder Woman stands tall and proud on the cover, ice blue eyes somehow full of a warmth Henry never could muster.

The girl in the bed- Max -doesn't stir. She's nearly braindead. She hears Eleven, that much I can tell. I can feel it. Why can’t Eleven hear her?

"I just want to talk to you again," Eleven whispers. "I should have stopped Henry. I’m so sorry."

She's fading. It's now or never.

"Why aren't you helping her?" The words tumble out before I can think to stop them, but Eleven doesn’t notice me.

"Eleven," I say sternly, but she's too wrapped up in her grief to feel anything but. She's not focused. It's going to get her killed.

Making my way around the bed, I look down on Max. She's young like my sister is, no more than fifteen, and much too young to die. I glance up at Eleven, but she's reading aloud from the comic book. Will she notice me at all? Maybe I can help this girl and it will at least make her stop crying. Maybe it will kick her ass into gear.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be here.

With a shaking hand, I place my palm on Max's forehead. Immediately I'm pulled into her mind. There's little left to fight my intrusion, and suddenly I'm in a small bedroom.

Awash with light, two girls sit giggling on a rainbow bedspread, noses angled into a comic. They sit hip to hip, playfully pointing at the artwork and cheering on Diana Prince as she fights Cheetah. Dressed in the bright colors and patterns of younger kids today, they’re having the time of their lives in this little moment. It’s a sweet memory, but Max can’t live here forever.

"Max," I say, but she doesn't look up. Her head cocks to the side, but her focus stays on Eleven and the book. “Max, you need to wake up.”

The sun brightens from the window. I go over to it, but it’s too bright to see out, so I open the latch and pull it up. Music emanates from the light, something I recognize from one of the tapes Alecia Hightower gave me.

And if I only could make a deal with God and get him to swap our places.

“You can’t go out there,” a voice comes from behind me. I turn to see Max watching me with fearful eyes. Eleven lives in the memory, talking as though Max is speaking with her still.

“Why not?” I ask quietly.

“He’s out there,” she whispers, full of terror and pain. “They both are.”

“Who?”

The memory swirls into change, pulling me deeper into Max’s subconscious. The music swells with the distant thunder so familiar to me. Red clouds filter around my ankles, bright lightning nearly blinding me as I struggle to focus.

A man stands in the center of the clouded wasteland, and it hits me that we’re in the Darkness. It’s not just any part of the Darkness, it’s the place that’s almost as hidden as the Haven. We’re on the Creel property.

Max is suddenly at my side, pointing a trembling finger at the man before us. A curly mullet lands on his shoulders, tickling his bare skin in the wind. He’s not much, standing there in a wife-beater and jeans, a cigarette dangling from one hand, but his energy is imposing. It makes my chest tighten as Max’s fear encompasses her mind.

There's so much hate for the ones we love. Tell me, we both matter, don't we?

“Max,” he says, but it’s distorted. I recognize the underlying voice. It’s Mara, the first creature of the Darkness, from when it was all a Haven. Before Henry came and corrupted her. She was the mother of all the others, a distant grandmother of Screech and Clem. She controls the rest of them for Henry since she betrayed me.

“Billy,” she whimpers, and tears burst from this child. It fills me with rage, her fear and love for this man. It’s the same as what I have for Henry. Her protector and her abuser all wrapped into one person.

“Come with me,” he tells her softly, holding out his free hand for her. “I miss you.”

Max steps forward, and my hand shoots out instinctually to block her. She looks to me for guidance, but my eyes are focused on Billy and the hidden violence behind his eyes.

I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her away from him. "You have to wake up! Do you understand? You need to wake up!"

I shake her, and behind her a hole opens in the red haze. It's a trailer park, the same one I found Eddie in, but in the real world.

"Don't leave me, Max!" Billy's wrong voice snarls, but before she can look back I take her by the hand and pull her through to the other side. “Please, Max!”

The light is blinding as we pass to the next memory. It takes a moment to blink away, and Max is no longer by my side. She’s huddled with a group of kids behind a trailer, peeking around to the other side. I find myself smiling as I spot Eddie and his unruly hair in the middle, his clothes undamaged and his skin untorn.

He looks good like that.

Eddie pulls a white mask with spiky hair over his head before leading them through the park. I run to keep up, and as they end up behind an RV I watch with amusement as Eddie climbs inside through a window. The kids follow and I grumble to myself as I climb in after them.

There’s one Eddie’s age who follows him up to the driver’s seat, wearing a… vest with no shirt underneath. He squints as Eddie starts cutting wires beneath the steering column. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”

“Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball,” Eddie grumbles, a bit hysterically. He seems to get like that. I’m glad it’s not just toward me. “My old man… was teachin’ me how to hotwire.”

He shakes his head and makes a face, “Now, I swore to myself I wouldn’t wind up like he did, but now… I’m wanted for murder, and soon… grand theft auto. So, I’m really living up to that Munson name.”

I smirk as I watch him swap seats with the one he calls Harrington, hopping comically into a cushioned seat. The RV ignites, and through some screaming on behalf of the owners, he tears off through the trailer park. I almost forget why I’m there until I see Max smiling wide as they steal someone’s home and car.

She catches my eye, her bright ones angling into a squint. "Who are you?"

I stumble my way back to her as the RV speeds away. It's hard to ignore Eddie and the protective way he makes sure all the kids are sitting down. He's got an aura about him, one that makes them cling to him and the other boy.

"My name is Zero," I tell her. "You need to wake up. This isn't real."

Max shakes her head, "It has to be."

"Listen to me," I implore, getting to my knees in front of her as the rickety vehicle heads down the road. "Eleven needs you to wake up."

"You know Eleven?" she asks brightly, but then she frowns. "She's in California."

"No, she's sitting right next to you. You're in a hospital in Hawkins, and she's reading you a comic book." Eleven's voice filters through the quickly fading memory.

"There's all these stupid boys," she says, distant and far away. "I've got Nancy and Robin but…"

Eleven's voice quivers, "I can't talk to them. Nancy's Mike's brother, and I don't think Robin even likes boys. Us girls have to stick together, right?"

"Right?"

I set a cautious hand on her knee, "She needs you. She needs her friends."

"Why are you here instead of her, then?"

The question pulls me up short. I don't have a good answer, because I don't even know why I decided to take this particular adventure. I don't know why I didn't just leave Eddie fucking Munson in the Darkness to die. I could be drinking coffee on my porch right now listening to soft rock and minding my own goddamn business.

I don't want either of them to die… but I don't want to be a prisoner either. I don't know what to do.

"She needs help, too. I'm here to help," I lie, but something comes to mind. "I need you to tell her something for me."

The memory is gone before I realize it. The light goes red, violently red. We're standing in the attic of the old Creel house, and Max is once again gone from my side. Horror washes over me as I find myself staring at the back of my nightmare.

Henry.

That distorted voice of his, nasty and guttural, sends ice water through my veins. He reaches out to touch Max's face, and my courage and confidence dies in my throat.

"Stop…" I call shakily, but nobody hears me.

"Don't be afraid," he growls, and I flash back to that night. He stood over me, and with those talons brushed back my hair and told me the same thing. "Try and stay very still. It will all be over soon."

"Max!" Eleven's voice calls from behind, and I turn to see her trapped just like Max is. She's terrified, and rage blossoms in my chest once more.

"...you need to fight!" a boy calls, but it's far away, in the real world. The real world of this memory.

But Max has given up. She's been through too much, her brother's face flashing in her mind. I see it, what Mara turned him into. She took the worst parts of him and used them against him. The boy died trying to save Eleven, to save Max.

In the end, Billy fought. He fought for his sister. He overcame the evil just to keep her safe, even from himself.

Tears fill my eyes and grief pours into my heart. Henry never did that for me.

It's enough to pull me out of my frozen state. My legs move before I can tell them to, my mind reaching out for Max, for Billy and what he did for her when he'd never given up a selfish choice in his life.

Henry flies back, his body ripped from Max. My own fears surface in this memory that belongs to someone else, and as he stands and Max collapses, his eyes focus on me.

"Sister."

It takes everything I have to ignore him and run for Max. Skidding to my knees, I grab her face in my hands and pull her close.

"You have to wake up, Max! You have to wake up!" I plead desperately. "He's coming, okay? He's coming and I can't stop him."

Max shakes her head, so I grab her shoulders and shake her harder. "Wake up, dammit! Henry is coming, and he's going to kill all of you!"

"I'm already dead!" she screams back, tears streaking her small face. "Just let me be dead!"

"No, no," I stammer. Henry’s getting up, his soulless stare aimed straight at me. "You're not dead. You will be if you don't wake up. You'll all be dead if you don't listen to me!"

I shake her harder, and a portal opens up. It's the hospital room. Max's heart monitor beeps loudly, piercing the veil.

"Tell Eleven…" I start shakily, gulping like it's my last breath. "Tell Eleven she can beat him. She's stronger than we are."

"How do you know?" Max asks fearfully, but the portal opens wider.

"She's the strongest of all of us. She always has been. He's scared of her!"

"She's lying, Max," Henry snarls as he gets to his monstrous feet. "You can't trust her."

The wind howls, that damned beeping taking over. I try to block him out, but I can't tell what's real either. If this is really Henry, he's going to take me, and I'll never be free again. It’s not my memory or my life, but my fear is all consuming. It shivers through my veins and into my hands, hot and cold all at the same time.

"The Upside Down isn't real, okay? It's made up! Do you understand me?" I scream over the billowing gusts. They cut through my skin, but the portal opens wider still. "You kill the creator, you kill the Upside Down!"

"Who created it?" Max calls back, but my bravery has wilted in the cold. I shove her toward the opening and thrust Henry back the best I can with my powers.

"Wake up! Tell her!"

The wind seems to explode, and in the same instant I'm standing in the hospital room again. Max lurches up with a sharp gasp, startling Eleven out of her chair and onto her ass.

"Max!"

I flee the hospital before I meddle any further, opening my eyes to find myself once more in the tree. The Haven stands intact, the heat lands on my face from the sun. I can’t feel Henry near me or in my mind, and I let out a thankful breath as I realize my visions of him seeing me weren’t real.

Everything is natural. The way it's supposed to be, but it's not going to last. I stare wide-eyed toward the Darkness outside of my safe place, where my protector and abuser lives. The sound of my heartbeat thumps loudly in my ears.

What the hell did I just do?

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Notes: Ope... Screech doesn't like Eddie, but he may want his help in the future. Zero woke Max up on a whim... what do you think is going to happen to our two impulsive weirdos? What do you think "Kill the Creator, Kill the UD" means??

@tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23 @spacedoutdaydreamer @legendarytrashcopeclipse @notahappystan @kbakery

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 1 year

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Imagine drinking moonshine with Forrest and (unintentionally) becoming tipsy.

TH Masterlist

- It’s no surprise Forrest knows how to hold his liquor. However, when he gets drunk, he gets absolutely ossified.

- But tonight he drinks even less than he usually does.

- Because he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself.

- He’d seen you leave the office earlier. He just came up the stairs as you left through the front door. You held it open for him, but he didn’t walk on as he usually does when it’s someone else.

- “Where you goin’?”

- “Home. I…,” you breath tapered and you swallowed hard to conceal your hurt as best as possible, “I didn’t make it. We terminated my contract and I’ve handed over my stuff.”

- His eyes flitted across your face, frantically looking for a lie that wasn’t there.

- You mustered your kindest smile. “Goodbye, Forrest.”

- You made to move past him, but he grabbed your arm like he did the night he dropped you off at the central station for the first time.

- You gave him a quizzical look.

- “Can we… during my break… coffee? You. Me.” His breath hitched and he grabbed you a little tighter. “Have a drink? After work?”

- He bit his lip and looked at you through his lashes, blue eyes luminous but shut away behind a thick wall of timidity. “At my place?”

- Knowing him enough to be certain he harbours no ill intentions towards you, you agreed.

- So here you are, seated on a worn leather couch in his apartment. The interior mixes modern luxury with rustic cabin vibes. Various wood tones are worked into decorations and bigger furniture pieces like the coffee table in front of the hearth, one of Forrest’s old weekend projects.

- The scent of cedar mixed with black tea, raspberries, and sandalwood hangs in the air while you two sit in front of the fire. In your hands, you hold the latest invention of the Bondurant brothers; pumpkin spice moonshine.

- If it isn’t the strong alcohol percentage that makes you choke, it’s the very strong presence of cinnamon. All the same, it makes for an easy drink.

- Being a lightweight, one glass is already enough to make you feel lightheaded. But one glass follows another and after the third you’re heavily leaning on the burly bear of a man next to you.

- In the meanwhile, there’s little conversation. In part because you share the language of silence, comfortable with one another without the need for words. But it’s also due to Forrest not knowing what else to talk about and not wanting to pry into what happened earlier that morning.

- Nonetheless, although he won’t admit it outright or even to himself, he’s glad you’re no longer colleagues for a very shallow reason.

- You’re no longer off-limits.

- He hates himself for using your state to push his own agenda a little bit, but he weaves his fingers through yours. You blink in surprise, but hum and snuggle up into him further while looking at your hands.

- “Can’t let you go home in this state.”

- “But I can’t stay here. I don’t wanna…” you frown, at a loss for words. It seems your brain has lost the battle war with the booze in your veins, rendering you unable to form a single coherent sentence. Doesn’t help his body is really warm and his mere presence offers the type of comfort you’ve been needing all day. “You know.”

- And he does, because he doesn’t need words to form a crystal clear explanation. “You won’t be. You sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep here.”

- “Grumpy wolf.” You chuckle at yourself. “Curled up by the fire.”

- The thought that passes through his mind at that moment?

- I’d rather be curled up next to you.

- “C’mon, time for bed.”

- “I’m not sleepy,” you protest, clutching his arm. “Stay here. At least for a little while longer.”

- He groans and then lets out a deep sigh through his nose as a smile slowly spreads on his lips. “You’re starting to talk nonsense. I’ll see if I have a toothbrush lying around too.”

- Gently he frees himself from your grip to prep his bedroom and find you your own toothbrush as well as pyjamas. He catches himself standing in front of his closet, smiling at the shirt and cardigan in his hands.

- Dreaming of how you’d look in them.

- Like you’re his.

- Woken up next to him.

- Back in the living room, he sees you’ve fallen asleep. You’ve toppled over and are basically sprawled over the couch.

- He grumbles about how you just had to fall asleep in the worst possible posture. Forrest picks you up and immediately stops his grumpy rambling when you curl up into his chest, humming contently.

- But it’s not only that which makes his heart stop.

- It’s also the prospect of having to dress you in the pyjamas he’s prepared for you. Now, of course he could put you to bed dressed as you are, but he wants you to be as comfortable as possible. And wearing jeans to bed is anything but that.

- He’s glad you’re sound asleep because you won’t be able to see how red he is while carefully manoeuvring you out of your clothes and into his shirt and cardigan. All the while, he makes sure not to touch you inappropriately, being wary about where his fingers touch you.

- He remains seated on the edge of the bed for a moment after he’s tucked you in. On the one hand, he’s overjoyed you’re with him, in his bed, safe and sound. On the other, he feels guilty since it’s because you lost your job you’re here.

- He runs a hand through your hair before he gets ready for a night on the couch.

- Come morn, you wake up to a glass of water with painkillers next to it as well as a wee note stating: “In case you need it”.

- You smile, take a painkiller, drink the water, and look down at your pyjamas. Had it been anyone else, you would have dreaded the thought at likely having been touched inappropriately. However, when it comes to Forrest, you don’t need that type of reassurance. Instinctively you know he respected you even in your unconscious state.

- In the kitchen, Forrest is busy making pancakes. The table has already been set. A pot of steaming coffee, yogurt with fresh fruits, a big mason jar filled with orange juice, and a reed basket with croissants and pains aux chocolates line the middle of the table.

- “Sleep well?” Forrest asks, briefly looking away from the pan. He’s clad in loose grey sweatpants, a matching cardigan, and a dark blue shirt portraying a dog snout. On his nose balances a pair of thick black glasses.

- “I did.” You stretch and bite your lip, only now aware of the trouble you caused last night. “Thanks for letting me stay. You didn’t have to.”

- “‘Course I did. It would’ve been irresponsible to let you go home when you’re not steady on your feet.” He gestures at the table with his spatula. “Sit. Eat.”

- “You had to sleep on the couch, though,” you mumble as you settle on the chair facing the kitchen. It’s not a bad view to wake up to, messy brown locks and broad shoulders working hard to put proper grub on the table.

- He puts a plate stacked with fluffy pancakes between the mason jar with orange juice and pot of coffee. “Dig in.”

- “Forrest?”

- “Hm?” He looks at you over the rim of his coffee cup. Normally he reads the paper during breakfast, but he gladly makes an exception for his secret favourite person.

- His secret girl.

- “Next time, sleep next to me. I was cold.”

- He almost spits out his coffee and quickly grabs the newspaper to hide his beet red face behind. Under his breath, though still crystal clear, he mumbles: “Next time.”

- And all the times to come.

Let’s end with the wee treasure I found;

Imagine doing this with him after some rounds of very steamy (and very passionate) sex🥰🤤

I went off with this one, but I have so many feels and Forrest is simply still one of my faves to write😅🥰

Tag list: @buttercup32sstuff @hecatemoon87 @potter-solomons @liliac-dreamer @vir-tual @alikaheroes @ilovemanypeople @zablife

#Tom Hardy #Facepuller #Tom Hardy imagine #Forrest Bondurant #Forrest Bondurant imagine #Lawless

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final-girl96 · 6 months

Text

Firefly Chapter Forty-Five

Present Day

The snow was hard to trudge through in some areas. It made us slower and tired us out. I convinced Joel to take breaks more often so we wouldn't overwork ourselves. There were towns we had to bypass due to unfriendly people. A city we had to find a way around completely because the infected took up residence. But there further west we got the less infected we saw. There was nothing but fields and mountains for miles and miles out here. We had been walking for a few hours when we stumbled upon a small cabin. It was clear that someone lived there because there was smoke coming from the chimney and there were animal hides hung up outside.

When we walked over, Joel decided to sneak in because knocking is apparently not an option anymore. An older woman sat in a chair in the living area of the small cabin. She was a sweet woman, offered us soup and showed Joel on a map which way we needed to go. She informed us that her husband was going to be back soon from his hunting trip. Joel ushered Ellie and I upstairs to hide. I had rolled my eyes because I thought it was just ridiculous.

When her husband did come when Joel came out of hiding. His wife was calm like nothing was wrong. She told him everything, even that Joel wasn't alone. Ellie and I didn't even bother staying hidden. The man showed us the same spot on the map that his wife did. But he warned us of the death river, then we left. On our way out Ellie tried taking one of the rabbits, but I stopped her and made her put it back. "Joel, are you okay? You're not having a heart attack are you?"

I looked at Ellie when turned around to see Joel leaning against one of the posts with one hand. His other hand was on his cheat. I rushed over to him worried that he was having a heart attack, but the look in his eyes when he looked at me told me that wasn't what was happening. There was panic in his eyes; he wasn't having a heart attack, he was starting to have a panic attack. "Joel, I need you to take slow deep breaths." I had a hand on his cheek making him focus on me.

"He's not going to die is he?" Ellie asked. Joel pushed me away and stood up straight. "I'm fine. Let's go," he said, and started to walk in the direction we needed to go. Ellie and I gave each other a look before following after him. There have only been a few times where I've seen Joel have a panic attack. The last one he had was about a year after we got to the QZ. As we walked Ellie did what she does best, talked and asked questions. When it started to get dark we found a small open cave and Joel started a fire.

We sat around the fire trying to keep warm. Ellie started asking about what kind of teats they would be running. She always wanted to know if there would be any kids like her there. "I don't know, maybe." Joel pulled out a flask and took a swig of it before handing it to me. I took it and did the same then handed it back. Ellie looked between us and with a little convincing Joel handed it to her, letting her take one drink.

Then it was time for bed, Ellie curled up on her sleeping bag and fell asleep. I curled myself up closer to Joel, who put his arms around me and rested his head on top of mine. I'm not sure when but at some point through the night we both fell asleep. Joel woke up first; sitting up with a jolt. I groaned, opening my eyes, and looked around. Ellie was standing a few feet away, rifle in hand, keeping watch. She explained we fell asleep, and Joel needed the sleep, so she kept watch. She went through the list of things Joel had taught her. He still wasn't happy that she didn't wake him, but told her next she better and then took the rifle.

After packing everything up we kept walking. We walked across bridges that sat high above rivers but we never knew if it was the river of death or whatever that old man had said. We passed a water plant and Ellie asked about it. Joel explained to her that we used to have water plants to male energy then proceeded to tell her he didn't know exactly how it worked. "You could have made something up and I would have believed you."

We walked across more open fields covered in snow and walked along the river. "Hey, what if this is the river of death?" Ellie asked. We stopped in our tracks and looked around. Seconds later two men on horses showed up. Joel tried to explain that we just wanted to pass through but they had none of it. Then more people on horses showed up. They had a dog with them, claiming that he could smell I'd you we were infected. Joel pushed me behind him and I pushed Ellie behind me.

That didn't last long before they made us stand apart. Then they let the dog come towards us. First it was Joel, then it was me. The dog sniffed us and quickly moved to the next. I looked over at Joel with worry before looking at Ellie. Joel was staring at the people in front of us on the horses. I looked back at them too wanting to remember their faces if Ellie ended up getting hurt or if they tried to hurt her. But then I heard giggling. Joel and I snapped our heads over where it came from and saw Ellie on her knees petting the dog.

"Look, like I said, we're just passing through. I'm just looking for my brother," Joel said. The dog was called back to its owner and I moved towards Ellie. "What's your name?" A woman asked. She was looking right at Joel with her brows forwarded. "Joel." In the next few minutes we were on horses and being taken back to their camp. Big gates came into view and they slowly opened.

We were led inside the walls to be greeted with a large community; a whole town to be exact. Joel got off his horse and then slowly started to walk towards someone. "Tommy!" I jumped down off the horse Ellie and I were on and looked over to see Tommy rushing over to meet Joel in a hug. I looked up at Ellie and she gave me a sad look. "Everything will be fine," I reassured her.

"Yn!" I looked over and smiled at Tommy. The two brothers walked over and Tommy pulled me into a hug. "It's so good to see you. How have you been?" he asked. Joel came to stand beside me and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. Ellie got off the horse and stood on the other side of me, slightly behind us. A smile grew on Tommy's face and he nodded his head. "It's about damn time you two fixed your shit."

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