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grayandthyme · 30 days ago

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“when there’s so much love to go around?” ;

anon said: I love your Tommy fics SOOOO much <3 it would be so awesome if you could write a super domestic fic, like a dinner or get together with all the millers. you always write Tommy so perfectly mischievous 😩 I think we could all use that in our lives rn

tommy miller x wife!reader ♫ meet me in the woods - lord huron

Synopsis: You and Tommy throw a dinner for Christmas. Tomfoolery with the town. Warnings: pure domestic fluff, dialogue heavy, reader is referred to as she/her, y'all just love each other okay, getting teased about children, barely smut, more so kissies.

authors note: your honor, i love them. i love domestic reader and Tommy—i say as they drag me tf away. ty anon ily for this.. keep requesting.. i see u our minds r the same..

part 2 here

Winter of 2033

It had been hours since you first rolled out of bed, feet hitting the floor before the sun even crept over the snow-covered ridge. The air in Jackson was sharp with winter, but your home was warm—alive with movement, scents, and soft laughter.

Tonight was the Christmas dinner. The big one.

And just like every year since you first settled behind these walls, you were hosting it.

It had only been a year ago that you brought the idea to Tommy—transforming the holiday from a quiet, private gathering to a community-wide Tipsy Bison feast. “Why keep it small,” you’d said, chin in his lap as he sat in that old armchair, “when there’s so much love to go around?”

You still remembered the way he’d looked at you then—like you’d strung up the stars yourself. His fingers had drifted through your hair, the other hand warm against your cheek. “You’re perfect, ain’t ya?” he whispered, not asking, just stating something true.

Now, the scent of roasting meat wafted through the air, kids screamed in the distance as they pelted snowballs, and inside the hall, you stood with your arms crossed, brow furrowed at the crooked evergreen bough above the hearth.

"Higher," you said, voice sweet but firm, hands settled on your hips as you leaned back to assess the greenery.

Tommy let out a long, theatrical grunt from where he stood on the chair, stretching just a little more to pin the garland. "You sure this ain’t high enough? I’m about to pull a hamstring for a damn pine branch."

You squinted, tilting your head, "Mmm… now a little to the left."

He froze. "…Sweetheart," he warned, glancing over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, "if you ask me to move this thing one more time, I swear—"

"You'll what?" you teased, stepping closer, a grin tugging at your lips. "Grumble at me until I die of old age? It's workin'…"

Tommy chuckled, low and fond, shaking his head. “You really like bossin’ me around, huh?”

"You make it too easy," you said, eyeing a bit of snow from his shoulder that had stuck to his coat when he rushed in from patrol. "Besides, you’re the one who ran here the second you got back. I didn’t even ask."

He stepped down from the chair then, hands going to your waist, eyes sparkling with something warm and wicked, “Didn’t need to ask. You say jump, I’m already in the air.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your heart stuttered. “Hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love,” he corrected, leaning in to steal a kiss. “With a woman who makes me decorate trees after I’ve walked ten miles in the snow.”

You laughed against his mouth, fingers tangling in his coat collar. “And you love every minute of it.”

"Only 'cause it's you," he murmured, voice dropping just enough to melt something inside you. "Now… how crooked is it, really?"

"…Crooked enough that you’re gonna need to get back up there.”

Tommy groaned dramatically, already turning for the chair again. “Lord, give me strength.”

“Hey!” a familiar voice echoed through the mess hall entrance, followed by the unmistakable stomp of snow-covered boots. “This place looks sick!”

You turned just in time to see Ellie practically burst through the doors, cheeks red from the cold, a scarf wrapped around her neck like she got tangled in it mid-run.

Joel followed behind her, a little slower, shaking the snow from his coat, feet gliding against the entrance lip to keep snow from coming in, arching a brow at her enthusiasm.

Ellie spun around, arms stretched wide. “You guys really went all out this year—look at this!” She gestured dramatically to the garlands, the lights, the long tables draped in handmade cloths.

“Glad it passes inspection,” you said with a grin, brushing your hands off on a stray dish towel, shedding any dirt or pine oil.

Tommy once again hopped off the chair with a soft thud, muttering, “She’s lucky she showed up after the garland wars.” … “Only one casualty,” Tommy said, shooting you a playful glare. “My damn patience.”

Joel gave a faint, amused huff and patted Tommy’s shoulder on his way in, “It’s like… Hallmark threw up in here." Though it was quiet enough that only Tommy let out a huff of air in amusement.

You leaned in, stage-whispering toward Ellie, “Don’t let him fool you. He’s been humming Christmas songs under his breath all day.”

“Betray me, woman," Tommy gasped, placing a hand over his heart, mock-offended.

Ellie rolled her eyes, grinning widely. “You guys are gross.”

“You say that now,” Joel muttered, pulling off his gloves, “but wait ‘til she’s ropin’ you into hanging ornaments next year.”

Ellie made a face. “Yeahhhh—I’ll just be in charge of the music.”

“Only if it’s not that weird stuff you like,” Tommy teased. “Last year you played that sad punk song about—what was it—dyin' in the snow?”

“It’s poetic! It's Slipknot!” Ellie defended, dramatically offended. “It has layers!”

You just laughed and moved to straighten one of the place settings, glancing up at the group with a warmth that settled in your chest like the glow of a fireplace.

This was what you’d wanted when you first brought up the idea: a night where nobody had to be on guard, where jokes could be tossed around with ease, and where people who'd fought so hard to survive could finally just be.

Joel’s eyes wandered the room, lingering on the wreath above the hearth, the tables arranged with care. He nodded, quietly approving. “Looks good.”

High praise, coming from him.

You gave a little mock bow. “Why, thank you, Mr. Miller.”

He raised his lip, that semblance of a smile, “You’re welcome, Mrs. Miller.”

Tommy sidled up behind you then, slipping an arm around your waist. “If we’re done admirin’ her genius, how about y’all help set out the cider?”

Ellie perked up. “You made cider?”

Tommy grinned. “Well… mostly she did. I just stirred it once or twice and took the credit.”

“Shocking,” you said, elbowing him lightly as you walked toward the kitchen, his arm still draped around you.

Ellie bounded after you. “Okay, but is there whipped cream? Because if there’s no whipped cream, I’m filing a formal complaint.”

Joel sighed behind her. “Kid, it’s cider, not dessert.”

“Says you.” Was that a fat joke?

Tommy chuckled, then turned his head slightly, murmuring in your ear as the others bickered playfully behind you. “This right here? This is why I don’t mind bein’ bossed around by you.”

You looked up at him, heart soft. “Because I make great cider?”

He leaned down, brushed his nose against your temple. “Because you make this feel like home.”

𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏

“Ellie!" you called, already halfway back to the box of leftover decorations, “... you’re in charge of the string lights. Grab Jesse and have him help you run them along the ceiling beams.”

“On it!” she shouted back, already tossing her scarf toward a chair.

“Wait—why me?” Jesse called as he walked through the door, blinking snow out of his lashes.

“Because you’re tall, and you just got here,” you said, pointing towards the box.

Tommy let out a low whistle, watching you move from one task to the next like a conductor in front of a half-chaotic orchestra, “Lord help us. She’s in general mode now.”

Joel, who was currently uncoiling a bundle of firewood near the hearth, smirked under his breath. “Don’t fight it, Brother. It’s easier just doin’ what she says.”

You pointed a finger in their direction without even looking. “Speaking of—which one of you is getting the fire started?”

“Already on it,” Tommy said, tossing a small log into the hearth. “You want it roaring or romantic?”

“Roaring,” you replied. “It’s freezing out there.”

Tommy crouched beside his brother, striking a match. “Don’t think she knows how not to make things romantic.”

You caught that one and just smiled as you passed, hands full of small cloth-wrapped bundles for the tables.

You weren’t barking orders—no—no one would’ve called it that.

You had a softness in your voice, a way of asking that made people want to please you. Like it was their idea all along. It wasn't manipulative, but it was enough of a push that make people want to entertain. Maternal. Caring.

Ellie was already arguing with Jesse over how to untangle the lights, their banter echoing through the hall. “No, you loop it over that beam—what do you mean it’s stuck? Use your freakishly long arms!”

“Long arms?”

“Freakishly.”

You laughed to yourself, their bickering just adding warmth to your heart, adjusting a centerpiece on the nearest table, already moving to the next one.

There was a flow to all of it. Like the dinner wasn’t just being set up—it was being built by hands that wanted people to feel seen, safe, and loved.

You weren’t just hosting a meal.

You were holding a whole town’s worth of worn-down hearts together with pinecones and cider.

And maybe that’s what struck you, as you paused for a breath and watched them all—Tommy, grinning beside the growing fire; Joel, quiet and steady as ever; Jesse helping Ellie, begrudgingly, reach for another beam.

They were all yours, in some small way.

Not possession. Not only romance. Just… yours.

Trusted you. Looked to you.

It felt almost sacred.

You didn’t have to be just Tommy's woman. But it felt like, for the ones who had no one else—you were.

And that was enough.

He caught your eye from across the hall, hands now dusted with soot, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “You gonna sit down at some point tonight?”

“Eventually,” you said, blowing a hair from your face. “After I single-handedly bring order to the post-apocalyptic North Pole.”

He chuckled, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple. “You know they’re all following you like you hung the moon, right?”

You gave a half-hearted shrug, not out of modesty, but because there was always more to do. “Somebody’s got to keep things moving.”

“And nobody does it better,” he murmured. “But don’t forget to let yourself enjoy it too.”

You leaned into him just for a second, letting the warmth of his chest and the crackling fire fill your lungs. “I am enjoying it. This is joy.”

You pulled away, clapped your hands, and called across the room: “Ellie, when those lights go up, you’re getting the first cup of cider.”

She whooped, hands leaving the ladder Jesse was standing on, “Hell yeah!”

“And Jesse, if you fall off that beam, I’m not bandaging you until after dinner.”

“I’m not gonna fall!” he said, “…probably.”

Tommy laughed beside you, and Joel shook his head as he stoked the fire, a quiet grin forming.

And for just a moment, with the scent of pine, the hum of voices, and the low crackle of warmth in the hearth—this place felt like the safest one on earth.

Taking your break, you slipped out of the main hall and into the kitchen, the swing door creaking gently behind you.

The warm scent of roasted vegetables and spiced cider hung heavy in the air, curling around you like a blanket.

The dishes were set out in organized chaos by Seth—covered platters, still-warm trays, foil-wrapped pots lined up for the eventual dinner.

You moved on instinct, checking lids, stirring where needed, straightening one of the larger trays that had started to tip. The clatter and laughter from the hall was muffled now, just a faint hum behind the door.

You didn’t hear Tommy come in until arms wrapped around your waist from behind, drawing you back into the solid heat of his chest.

“Caught you,” he murmured against your ear.

You grinned, still stirring the pot of mashed potatoes with one hand. “Caught me? I’m working, Miller.”

He moved into the crook of your neck, facial air tickling at air-sensitive skin, voice low and lazy, “Mhm. Always workin’. Always takin’ care of everyone else. Thought I’d steal a minute before you disappeared back into Christmas mode.”

You laughed, setting the spoon down and turning in his arms. “Oh, so now you want to slow down. Not when I was hanging garlands, or setting tables, or bribing Ellie to stop tripping over extension cords—now?”

Tommy leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. “Exactly now.”

His hands stayed at your waist, thumbs stroking idle circles through your sweater, his other finger through your belt loop to keep you put.

There was something in his eyes—mischief, sure, but also something softer. Admiration was tucked behind the usual boyish charm.

The kind of look that made you feel like the only light in a room full of lamps.

"You know," he said, voice just above a whisper, “you keep runnin’ around makin’ everything beautiful, I’m gonna have to fight off half the damn town.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “And who exactly would be bold enough to test your claim?”

He grinned. “Nobody if they know what’s good for them.”

You leaned up, brushing a kiss against the corner of his mouth, “Possessive looks good on you, Miller.”

He smirked, but it softened into something else, quick, “I ain’t just proud of you, y’know.”

You tilted your head, curious. “No?”

“I need you,” he said, voice suddenly quiet—serious in the way that made your chest ache a little, “All this—this whole town, this dinner, this life—it runs ‘cause you make it feel like it’s worth buildin’ Worth stayin’ for.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the weight of it. And he saw that in your eyes, because he gave you a small shrug and smiled again, a little more sheepish this time as if removing weight, “Just sayin’. While I got you to myself.”

You kissed him then. Slower, firmer. Your hand came up to cradle his jaw, thumb brushing across the scruff of his cheek. He leaned into it like it was something he’d been waiting for all day.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his.

“We’ve got about two more minutes before Ellie breaks in here demanding cider again.”

Tommy groaned, dramatically, “Can’t we just barricade the door and say dinner’s canceled?”

You laughed, kissed him once more—just quick this time—and turned back to the trays.

“Help me carry the rolls,” you said with a wink, lifting a basket. “And maybe later, I’ll let you sneak me into the coat closet.”

Tommy grabbed a tray, “Fuckin' Christmas miracle…”

You both walked back out to the hall, hands full of food and hearts full of something far warmer than the fire.

𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏

The mess hall had shifted entirely.

Where once it had been full of echo and motion, now it buzzed with a gentle hum—laughter bouncing softly off the walls, forks clinking on plates, chairs scraping as people leaned into stories and leaned closer to each other. The scent of roasted root vegetables, smoked meat, and spiced cider filled every corner.

You moved between tables like a steady current, checking on folks, sliding napkins back into place, refilling cider mugs as if it were second nature. Everyone looked so full—not just their plates, but their faces.

Smiling. Relaxed. Safe, for once.

Tommy had already slipped into his seat beside you, a little too proud of how many compliments he’d gotten on your recipes. The combination of your genius and Seth's skills.

You gave him a nudge and sat down at last, your plate mostly neglected, your chest still warm from the earlier kitchen moment.

Then, from the far end of the room, a voice called out, sounding like Eugene.

“Hey, someone’s gotta do a toast!”

A few cheers followed, cups raised in mid-air. Jesse added, “Not it…” quickly, and made a quick motion to lower his head. The future of Jackson just hid from a speech.

She shoved him, grinning. “Come on, don’t be a coward!”

You laughed, shaking your head, trying to retreat into your cider. But then Ellie’s eyes lit up, and she pointed right at you. Little shit.

“Don't hide, Cmon—” she said, smug. “You're the reason any of this came together anyway!”

Tommy turned toward you, eyes already warm. “Got my vote.”

The rest of the room started chiming in. Some teasing, some sincere, but all in agreement.

“Yeah, c’mon!”

“Speech! Speech! Speech!”

You could feel the heat rise in your face, not unwelcome—but definitely a little overwhelming.

Looking at Tommy for help, but he just gave you that look—half fond, half you got this, darlin’.

An even bigger shit.

You cleared your throat, standing slowly, mug still in hand. The chatter dimmed into expectant silence.

“I—uh,” you started, immediately laughing at yourself. “I didn’t really… plan anything.”

Someone from the back shouted, “That makes it better!”

You smiled down at your cider for a second, then looked up.

They were all watching you—not with pressure or scrutiny, but with the kind of warmth that came from knowing you were among people who loved you.

People you’d fed, and worried for, and teased, and built something real with.

So you tried again, this time a little steadier.

“I guess… I just wanted tonight to feel like home. Whatever that means to each of us.” You looked around the room, letting your eyes land on a few familiar faces—Ellie, laughing quietly over her plate; Joel, looking at you with the smallest of nods; Maria, arms crossed but with a smile that said she was proud.

“I know the world doesn’t make much room for softness anymore. But we made this. We kept this. And I think that means something.”

Your voice caught just a little, nerves, but you pushed through it, heart pounding.

“So if you’ve got a full plate, and someone at your table to share it with… then you’re already lucky. And if you don’t have that yet—then you’ve still got this room. These people. This town. And you’ve got us.”

You glanced at Tommy—his eyes didn’t leave you once. There was a glisten there, no hiding it.

“So… cheers,” you finished, lifting your mug with a bashful smile. “To Jackson. To the people who made it home."

The room erupted in soft clinks of mugs, low cheers, and a few watery laughs.

Ellie wiped her eyes in a dramatic-fake-crying motion, and Jesse pounded his hands on the table to add to the claps. Even Joel looked a little off-kilter, quietly murmuring, “That’ll do.” It only earned a breezy eye roll from your features.

You sat down again to Tommy slipping an arm around you, fingers kneading into your jeans pocket, lips pressing to your temple with barely-restrained pride.

“You’re somethin’ else,” he murmured, voice low, “Think I fell in love with you all over again.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, smiling like your chest couldn’t contain it.

“Good,” you whispered. “I was starting to worry your resolve was slippin'.”

He chuckled. “Not a fuckin' chance.”

The fire crackled low in the hearth now, casting golden light that danced across the walls.

Plates were being picked at lazily, conversation lulled into warm after-dinner murmurings.

Ellie and Jesse were halfway through a heated card game with Maria pretending not to keep score. Joel was quietly sipping cider, eyes distant but not unkind, adding his finger to the play, telling Ellie which card to deal. Backseat poker-ing.

And next to you, Tommy was fully leaned back in his chair, one arm slung over the back of yours. He looked content—belly full, boots stretched out, cheeks still a little pink from the fire. That belt buckle wouldn't last long if he had another bite.

Every so often, he'd glance around the room with that quiet pride, like he couldn't believe he got to be a part of this.

You turned toward him, shifting just enough so that your lips barely grazed the edge of his jaw, quirked near his ear. Your voice dropped, soft as the snow still falling outside.

“Y’know,” you whispered, brushing a hand across his arm, “I was just looking at you, and thinking…”

He glanced at you sideways, the faintest smirk already tugging at his mouth. “Dangerous start, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, “I was thinking… you’re my favorite thing here.”

He tilted his head toward you, eyebrow raised, teasing. “Outta the whole town? Even with the cider?”

“Even with the cider,” you whispered, leaning closer. “Even with the fire, and the lights, and the people I love more than life.”

Tommy’s teasing fell quiet under your voice, his eyes softening as you continued.

“I know I run around makin’ sure everyone’s got a seat, or a spoon, or a slice... I like doing that. But when I sit down next to you… That’s the part that feels like rest. Like breathing.”

You felt him exhale, slow and deep. His hand slid down to lace his fingers through yours, resting between your chairs.

“I love you, Tommy,” you said, still low and quiet, just for him. “I love this with you. All of it.”

He didn’t say anything for a second—not because he didn’t know how, but because he felt it. In his chest. In the place no one else had touched in years.

Then he turned, eyes so full of affection it almost hurt to look at.

He didn't reply.

As vocal as he usually was, sometimes love bit him hard, a little obscure in the back of his memories.

The small comments about his father and childhood. Desert Storm and the way he would clutch the handle of every iron in his grip. This felt like balm to soothe the constant panic.

You gave his hand a squeeze, letting your forehead rest against his temple for just a beat before pulling away.

“Just had to say it. Before the kids start asking for seconds and I forget again.”

Tommy chuckled, brushing a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, then just beneath your ear. “Say it as many times as you want, sweetheart, I ain’t never gonna get tired of hearin’ it.”

You sat back in your chair, still holding his hand, still wearing that quiet smile.

The world outside was still cold. Still cruel. But here—in the flickering firelight, with laughter echoing and love so thick it was stitched into the walls—you were warm.

𓇼ㅤ ㅤ𓂂ㅤㅤ ˚ㅤㅤ ◌ㅤ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏

The mess hall had quieted into that sleepy, late-night hush—candles still flickering low, wax puddled around the wicks. Plates were mostly cleared, chairs pushed back, laughter long since mellowed into the softer kind, the kind that sat under the ribs and stayed there.

Ellie, Jesse, and Dina had darted out an hour ago—something about sleds, or a fort, you hadn’t really caught it. Joel just shouted “Gloves!” before they disappeared into the snow.

Now, it was mostly just the silent, contented ones left.

The ones with sore backs and full bellies and stories that always got better after midnight.

You were leaned against Tommy on a bench along the wall, both of you drowsy and loose-limbed from cider and comfort. He had an arm wrapped lazily around your shoulders, his thumb dragging light circles into your upper arm.

Gail and Eugene were still picking at dessert scraps at a table over, the two of them grinning in that knowing way old friends do. Their love was pure, one so obvious you can see it at first glance.

Joel was near the fire, legs stretched out and sipping from a cup of something strong—his usual kind of quiet, watchful.

“Y’know,” Gail said suddenly, looking straight at you with her chin propped on her knuckles, “it’s criminal how good you two look together. Like somethin’ outta one of those pre-outbreak holiday movies.”

Eugene chuckled, nudging her. “Yeah, all domestic and warm. Like a damn postcard. All you need now’s a couple’a rugrats running around.”

You felt Tommy chuckle beside you, a low vibration on your side. “Here we go,” It came out quietly, just for you.

You groaned playfully and lifted your head. “We host one community dinner and suddenly it’s baby shower season?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Gail teased, sipping her tea. “Don’t pretend it ain’t crossed your mind.”

“It hasn’t,” you said, at the exact same time Tommy said, “Maybe once or twice.”

That made everyone laugh—including Joel, who gave a soft, raspy heh from his seat, barely looking up as he took another sip of whiskey.

You turned to look at Tommy, arching an eyebrow. “Once or twice, huh?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered, eyes full of mischief.

“I mean, you’re good at takin’ care of people. Organizin’ chaos. Wrangling overgrown kids like me. Feels like it’d translate pretty well.”

You gave his thigh a gentle smack, pretending to scold. “You trying to flirt your way into trouble?”

His grin turned downright dangerous. “Ain’t I always?”

The table chuckled again, Gail fanning herself with a napkin. “Lord, you two are disgustingly in love.”

You laughed, cheeks warm, and tucked your head back against Tommy’s shoulder.

Joel looked over finally, that ghost of a smile still on his face. “If they do have a kid, we’re gonna need a whole second mess hall by next Christmas... Just sayin’.”

You pointed at him, mock, “You’re not off the hook, old man. I’ll be expectin’ somethin’ rustic and overengineered. Gotta put you to work somehow.”

Joel tipped his cup toward you. “Noted.”

Eventually, the others began to gather their coats and hats, leaving with hugs and cheek kisses and murmured thanks.

Gail gave you an extra squeeze, whispering something about how you’re already everyone’s girl, honey—wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to be a mama for real someday.

Jesus.

Something about the holiday had people saying their thoughts out loud.

When it was just the embers, Joel, and you, and Tommy left behind, the stillness finally settled.

Tommy yawned and leaned his head back, arm still snug around you. “Can’t believe we pulled it off again.”

You looked around at the soft glow, the empty plates, the leftover cider cooling in mugs. “We didn’t just pull it off,” you murmured. “We gave people something to believe in. And, I think that's pretty damn cool.”

He kissed the side of your head, slow and sure. “That’s all you, darlin’.”

You turned your face up to his, close enough that only he could hear: “…Think we’d be good at it?” you whispered. “If we ever did?”

His brows lifted—surprised, maybe, but not in a bad way. Then he softened like butter on warm bread. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”

You leaned in, kissed the corner of his mouth, and gave him a look. “Might not be tonight though. I’m still covered in pie crust and stress.”

He grinned. “Fine by me. I’m just enjoyin’ the preview.”

From across the room, Joel cleared his throat—not quite loud, not quite subtle—and stood with a smirk.

“I’m headin’ out before this turns into a second honeymoon,” he muttered as he passed, giving your shoulder a brief pat. “Merry Christmas, you two.”

“Merry Christmas, Joel,” you both said, voices overlapping.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And just like that, it was you and Tommy, finally alone in the quiet afterglow of something beautiful built together.

The mess hall was still warm, but the hush had settled in for good now. Just the crackling of dying embers, the faint hum of wind against the frosted windows, and the clink of ceramic as you and Tommy started clearing the last of the dishes.

You were both slow about it—not lazy, just… lingering. Hands brushing over each other’s as you stacked plates, trading little smiles over crumbs and napkin piles.

Tommy grabbed two mugs, swishing out the leftover cider into a pot. “I swear,” he muttered, “I saw Jesse hide a whole slice of pie in his coat pocket.”

You snorted, wiping down a table. “If he brings ants into the single dorms again, I’m blaming you.”

“Me?” Tommy grinned, tossing a rag at your side. “You’re the one who makes the pie like it’s magic.”

You caught the rag mid-air and lobbed it right back, hitting him square in the chest, mocking a huff, “That’s why I married you. Strong reflexes. Keeps things exciting.”

He caught your wrist before you turned, tugging you toward him with that crooked grin you’d fallen in love with—mischievous and soft all at once.

“Oh, that why?” he murmured, voice low as his other hand landed on your waist. “Not the shoulders? The hands? The fact I can fix a water heater and field-dress a deer?”

“All perks,” you hummed, fingers slipping up to play with the collar of his shirt. “But mostly it’s ‘cause you look real good holdin’ a broom and doin’ what I say.”

He laughed into your hair, the sound muffled and tender. “Woman, you own me.”

“Damn right I do.”

For a few seconds, you just stood like that, wrapped up in each other in the middle of a room still echoing with warmth.

It was wild, sometimes—how easy it was to forget the world outside these walls, how deep the roots had grown inside the two of you.

People came to this place because they needed safety. Peace.

You were the kind of love story folks whispered about in awe.

The kind that made them believe in second chances.

“I think we did good,” you murmured after a bit, voice soft.

Tommy nodded against your temple, “We always do.”

He stepped back reluctantly, just enough to finish the task—grabbing chairs to stack, humming low under his breath. You followed, drying the last few dishes, snuffing out candles with a licked thumb and forefinger.

By the time you turned off the string lights and locked the mess hall doors, the snow outside had grown thicker, quiet and pillowy under your boots. You looped your arm through Tommy’s as you made your way back to the house, the wind nipping at your cheeks.

The door creaked open with a low groan, familiar and unbothered. Tommy reached around you to flip the switch, but the overhead light stayed off. Instead, the glow from the hall lamp spilled golden into the room—just enough to warm the corners, to soften everything.

You kicked off your boots with a sigh that came straight from your soul. “My feet are killing me,” you mumbled, peeling off your coat and scarf. “I’ve been standing for, like, ten years.”

Tommy was already unbuttoning his flannel, eyes on you like you were the first thing he’d ever want to see in soft lighting. “You were runnin’ that dinner like a damn general,” he said with a grin. “Pretty sure even Joel listened to you when you told him to stir the gravy.”

You laughed, low and tired, and stepped forward to help him out of the shirt. He let you, arms lifted, smiling all lazy and smitten.

“I like being useful,” you said, brushing lint off his undershirt, “Makes me feel like I mean something.”

He caught your wrists gently, pulling your hands to his chest. “This place means somethin’ ‘cause of you, sweetheart.”

You didn’t argue. Not tonight.

You just pressed your lips to his jaw, soft and pebbled. Let yourself rest there, eyes closed. His thumbs rubbed soft circles into the back of your hands.

Eventually, you pulled apart, shedding the rest of your layers in tired silence. Eventually, climbing up the stairs and settling into the bedroom.

The fireplace was still glowing low from earlier—it hadn’t gone out completely—and Tommy knelt to add a log and stoke it back to life while you disappeared into the bathroom to wash up.

When you returned in an oversized flannel and wool socks, the bedroom was dim and golden, all low firelight and heavy quilts. Tommy was already under the covers, hair damp from a quick rinse, arm lifted in silent invitation.

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

You slid in beside him and tucked your body close, face pressed into the curve of his shoulder, one leg hooked over his.

“Mm,” he murmured, voice already sleep-heavy, rough with comfort. “You’re cold.”

“You’re warm,” you whispered back, fingers trailing lazily along his ribs. He had always been a personal heater, carrying so much warmth it was astonishing.

He shifted to hold you better, like instinct. One hand cradled your head. The other rubbed up and down your back, slow and steady.

For a while, neither of you said anything.

Just the sound of your breathing, the quiet pop of firewood, the way his thumb brushed behind your ear.

Then, so softly, you whispered, “Think we’ll always have this?”

Tommy kissed the top of your head. “Yeah,” he said, without hesitation. “I do.”

You smiled against his skin, nose brushing the hollow of his collarbone. “Feels like I belong here. Like we’re part of the house.”

“We are the house,” he mumbled. “You’re the heart. I’m the dumb cowboy who fixed the floorboards.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I like the dumb cowboy.”

“Good,” he said sleepily, pulling the blankets tighter around you both. “He’s crazy ‘bout you.”

You sighed, eyes slipping closed, breathing in his scent—woodsmoke and worn cotton.

You were just about to drift off, legs tangled, the weight of the day finally softening in your bones—when Tommy shifted, just a little, and pressed his mouth to your jaw with slow intention.

One kiss turned into two, then three—trailing toward your ear, lazy but unmistakable. You smiled into the pillow. Damn, cowboy.

“Tommy…” you warned, voice already low with amusement.

“What?” he murmured, lips brushing just below your ear, “Can’t a man kiss on his wife a little before bed?”

But there was nothing little about the way his hand skimmed down your side, slipping under the hem of your shirt, or how his mouth found yours—hot, tender, teasing.

You responded without hesitation, fingers winding into black curls as the kiss deepened, stealing the breath right out of your chest.

It was slow at first, more laughter than urgency—soft giggles between kisses, teasing touches, his grin against your mouth when you tugged him closer.

Then the warmth grew into something deeper, heavier. Familiar. The kind of intimacy that only years of love could make feel both playful and feisty.

By the time your shirt was halfway off and the quilt was bunched around your hips, you weren’t laughing anymore—all teeth and tongue.

"On your stomach," His voice was hoarse—an area between sleep, and need. Something he so often craved at this time of the night, hell, probably every moment of the day.

You were quick to turn around in his grasp, face buried into the pillow—fingers lacing through thin sheets, white knuckling as he pulled each bit of fabric from your flesh.

Hands moving to the front of your shirt, a palm splayed against soft swell of breast—it was natural, reverent. He was quick to sink in, breathless and turbulent.

You didn’t even remember when you stopped kissing and started just… being.

The quilt had been dragged up again, wrapped around both of you like a shielding secret.

Your legs were still tangled, bare skin pressed to bare skin, the kind of closeness that made it hard to tell where you ended and he began.

You shifted just enough to glance up at him again, your fingers drawing light circles along his ribs. “Y’know… if this is how we’re doin' Christmas eve, I’m scared to ask what you’ve got planned for New Year’s.”

Tommy let out a lazy, shameless grin, eyes still half-lidded with sleep and satisfaction, “Darlin’, if you let me, I’ll make a tradition outta this.”

You raised a brow. “Mm. A tradition that involves nearly breaking the bedframe?”

“That bed’s tougher than it looks… I on the other hand…” He gave a mock groan, rubbing a hand over his face, “You might’ve just finished me off. You proud of yourself?”

You grinned, impossibly smug, “Devastatingly.”

Tommy reached out to pull you fully on top of him, your laugh muffling against his bare chest as he buried his face in your hair. “God help this town if they knew what their golden girl gets up to after hours.”

You looked up at him with a wink. “Please. Let’s not give them more reason to build me a shrine.”

He huffed a laugh. “Too late for that. I already light candles for you every time you bend over that damn bed.”

You let out a chuffed breath, somewhere between a whine and a laugh, smacking his chest lightly. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he whispered, tilting your chin up with two fingers, “here you are, in my bed. Again.”

"Our bed," The correction lingered, you kissed him slowly, smiling into it, "Only ‘cause you’re pretty.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, pulling the covers up tighter around you both, “And humble too, don’t forget that part.”

You let your head fall back onto his chest, your laughter finally softening into a sleepy sigh, "So humble, Miller…"

A long pause stretched between you, soft and golden in the low firelight. Your fingers drifted across his chest like they had nowhere else to be.

Then your gaze caught something glinting just above the blankets. The leather band on his wrist. The scratched face of that old, worn watch Joel had fixed up for him last year, told him to finally get a handle on what time it was.

You squinted at it, blinking drowsily. And then you smiled.

“Tommy…” you murmured, tapping the watch face. “It’s after midnight.”

He lifted his wrist with a tired grunt, turning the watch toward his line of sight. The corners of his mouth twitched into a grin.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he said. “It’s Christmas.”

You looked up at him with a crooked smile, chin resting on his chest, “Guess that makes me your present.”

Tommy chuckled, low and rough. “Sweetheart, you were the best damn thing under the tree and the one who wrapped it.”

You laughed, nose wrinkling. “Smooth.”

He leaned in and kissed you again—softer now. Slower. All warmth and afterglow. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispered against your lips.

You touched his cheek, thumb grazing the stubble there. “Merry Christmas, Tommy.”

Settling into each other once more, bodies warm and tangled beneath the blankets, hearts still beating in sync.

The fire cracked low beside you, the snow fell silent beyond the window, and for one more night in Jackson—one more night in this life you built from the wreckage of everything lost—you were happy.

masterlist

part 2 here

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seetangus · 1 year ago

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Oh how about: Reader loving Azula throughout her mental health crisis and still visiting her in the asylum. So, as she heals, she realizes how much she loves the Reader… and maybe through the story, you could see her reactions to certain things like if R talked about another girl like Ty Lee or something, Azula would feel jelly but doesn’t understand why or if R talks about Zuko she may think she’d like Zuko more like their mother…

idk but it’s sounds fun and I know you are awesome at writing so I bet it’ll be good!

Healing - Azula x reader

[Masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, no warnings

1.897 words, I hope you like it! :)

The metal door closed audibly, its movement making the torches close to it flicker. They barely spent enough light to make things visible in the cell. Now you two were alone.

Azula sat in front of you, tied to a metal chair in a straitjacket. It was a humiliating treatment for a princess, you thought. Still, your heart felt great relief from seeing her again after several months of waiting. It had been difficult to convince the new fire lord Zuko and his comrades to let you visit Azula, as you were considered dangerous due to your loyalty to princess Azula that you had maintained even during the last days of the war. But here you were, finally seeing her, the one your heart ached for, again.

“Hello Azula. I am happy to see you again.”, you said truthfully but very quietly. You did not dare asking her how she felt. Seeing Azula, who had always been so confident and strong in a weak and broken state like this intimidated you.

You could not make out what Azula was thinking. You had been told that she had for some time behaved like a raving maniac, screaming and trying to attack anyone who came close to her. But that phase seemed to be over now. It was obvious Azula was mentally still in a very precarious situation, but right now she was rather calm. At least it seemed like she was.

“What are you doing here, y/n.”, she asked. Your heart jumped at hearing her voice, even if it sounded differently than before. What she said did not sound like a question, but you still answered: “I wanted to see you.” Quieter, you added: “Maybe you need someone to talk to.”

A small silence followed. You could tell that Azula was, even if it had been months, still very stressed and angry about her defeat against Zuko. Still, with a heartwarming effort, Azula tried to initiate a peaceful conversation by asking you about the current situation of the fire nation and other wide-ranging topics. You happily answered all her questions. The conversation got more concrete when she asked about her old friends. Ty Lee, Mai, Iroh and even her brother Zuko. All the ones that had betrayed her. You told about their new positions and how they behaved. You also told her that, as you had remained in your position in the royal palace even after the changing of the fire lord, you were somehow reconnecting with some of them, even if it went slowly.

While listening to you, Azula increasingly looked lost. You would have expected her to be angry at the traitors taking her place in the hierarchy of the fire nation, but she seemed to worry about something entirely different. Nevertheless you talked with eachother until the visiting time was over and the guards ordered you to leave. You also realised your eyes hurt because of the dim light in the cell - it must be painful for Azula to stay here all day.

Having left her cell, a guard told you that they had feared for the worst and were surprised at how calm Azula had been with you. You couldn’t imagine why that was either.

< • ◇ • >

A few weeks passed until your next visit. In that time Azula had changed much; you were told she was still a bit unpredictable, but her violent outbursts had ended completely and she was overall more stable. That had led to the guards daring to attach extra torches to the walls of her cell, finally making the room brighter so your eyes didn’t hurt anymore. The whole atmosphere was different this visit, it was less depressing.

This time you greeted her a bit more confidently and with a smile. It would have been hard not to smile when seeing your loved one feel better. She also looked better than last time - her hair looked less messy and she did not have bags under her eyes. You were genuinely happy it went uphill with her, and you didn’t hide it:

“Hello Azula, you look beautiful today!”

Your warm greeting seemed to have catched Azula off guard; you could see she hesitated a bit before answering, and you even saw her blush a bit, but surely it was only the warm light of the torches combined with your own feelings that made you imagine it. Azula wouldn’t blush. Once Azula answered though, she did so with her old attitude: “Of course I look good, y/n. Did you expect me not to?”

That might not have been the most welcoming and thankful answer she could have given, but at least it proved she really felt better, more like back when she wasn’t here. Ah, you couldn’t wait for when she would boss you around and insult anyone else again like in the good ol’ days.

But enough of the dreaming, back to reality! Azula simply made you tell her anything that you thought might interest her. She said she TRUSTED you on choosing the right topics. That was obviously a very unusual thing for her to say but you took it as a compliment and started speaking, mostly about how things changed under the rule of her brother and how the people she knew behaved. Every time you spoke about Ty Lee or Mai you could see her eyebrows furrow and she did not comment again until you changed topics. When you mentioned that Mai and Zuko were a couple, her whole face lit up and she interrupted you, exclaiming: “Ha! That’s fantastic! Isn’t it great, y/n?” You agreed but Azula suddenly feeling happy for her brother genuinely confused you.

Anyhow, Azula soon seemed to become annoyed by the things you told her about the people she knew. After some time she simply cut you off and said: “Yes yes uncle Iroh’s new tea shop is interesting and I should care but I want you to tell me more about yourself.” At first, you were dumbfounded, but since she seemed to really be interested (and also since it was impossible not to fulfill any request of hers anyways), you talked about yourself for the rest of your visit.

Some time later, the guards opened the door and told you to leave. You had already said good-bye to Azula and turned to go away, but she suddenly made a harsh move with her head, loosening a few strands of her hair that now dangled down. “Oh y/n, before you leave, would you be so kind and fix this?”, she purred with unusual kindness, inevitably making you feel butterflies.

Hesitantly, you turned around and lifted your hand to her beautiful hair, gently brushing it back into place. She just smirked triumphantly and let you leave. You couldn’t put into words how heavenly you had felt that moment, despite the stares of the guards.

After you were gone, Azula thought about what had happened. Why had she done this. Making her hair messy on purpose to ask you to fix it. Not that it hadn’t felt good, feeling human touch after months of deprivation had actually felt awesome, she just genuinely did not know why she had suddenly felt the need to get your attention. And why did she feel so hurt when you talked about Ty Lee or Mai? She did not like not knowing the answer to something, so she was determined to get it the next time you visited.

< • ◇ • >

You did not let Azula wait for long. As quickly as the harsh regulations of the Asylum allowed, you returned. According to the guards, who prepared you for the visit, Azula had been behaving much better: there had been no angry outbursts or attempts to harm anyone at all since your last visit.

Luckily for Azula, her good behaviour had led to an even greater improvement in the furnishing of her cell: the torches had been replaced with lanterns who emitted a brightness that somewhat resembled daylight, making it much more bearable to stay in her cell.

“How do you feel, Azula?”

“I’m well, y/n. Actually, it is very relieving that you are here now, because I can finally ask you some very important questions.”

Naturally, Azula saying your name made you feel butterflies. She sounded almost like her old self again. “I’m happy to answer anything you ask me.”, you assured, excited about what questions she could have for you. You looked at her expectantly.

She also only looked at you instead of asking questions. Well, she did not just ‘look’, she seemed to have… found something on you that interested her very much. More than any question she could ask you.

“Your eyes look very happy, y/n.”, she suddenly said.

You had not been prepared for that. Your eyes widened, making Azula grin. It was not her usual grin, though. It seemed like this grin was not fueled by self-absorption and superiority as it had been until now, but rather Azula seemed to be genuinely happy, feeling real joy. You had never seen that on her before, so naturally you were very happy for her! And for yourself, for being able to witness such a beautiful moment and being part of it.

“Oh I wish the visits weren’t this short.”, Azula said, her gaze still venturing in the depth of your eyes. You were a bit confused. “Azula, the visit has just started - we have plenty of time. Also, I will come back soon! As soon as possible!”, you quickly assured.

Azula tried getting closer to you, but she was restrained by her chains. You had both almost forgotten about them. “Y/n, I do not only want to be with you during visits.”

You were speechless. All your blood was gathering in your head and your voice decided this would be a good moment to give up. “A-azula … I want to see you more often too…” you mustered up all the courage you had. “In fact”, you gulped, “I feel pained in every moment we are separated from eachother.”

Azula smirked and lifted her nose up, making her look as powerful as before; she was clearly enjoying you being flustered. But there was something different, something new in her eyes. Something that had not been there a few months ago, and that had grown each time you visited her.

“You like me, y/n, don’t you?”

Azula lowered her head, and it seemed like there even was a bit of worry or insecurity in her voice when she asked again: “You do, right?”

“Yes Azula, I do.”

You wanted to hug her, caress her and hold her close, but knowing that the guards would rush in and restrain you, it was better to remain sitting. You did not hold back expressing your affection verbally, though.

Azula was, like always, the first one to regain her composure, and you tried to do so as well, although it was not easy.

“Well, it’s settled then.", Azula said.

“... What’s settled?”, you asked, unsure of what she meant.

“When I get out of here,'' Azula answered, “I will arrange that we see eachother much more often than we currently do and that the royal family welcomes a new member. And now tell me again how much you love me, y/n.”

#azula x reader #atla #atla x reader #azula #azula x y/n #atla azula #azula avatar #azula x gn reader #x reader #avatar imagine #avatar #avatar the last airbender #character x you #character x reader #x y/n #x you

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motorbutcher · 5 months ago

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AHHH I LOVE UR ART SM!! U r so so talented and have inspired me alot since I've found ur blog, and like alot of others I rlly like ur father Maria, the design and lore from what I've seen/read is just so awesome and creative, I rlly wish he was actually in the game that would be so amazing and I feel like he fits perfectly, ty for helping me with artblock and motivation and never stop creating, do what u want forever!!!! 👅

I'm glad i could help you with artblock!! I'm honestly so honoured i managed to inspire. Please, you too, keep creating and keep being creative! Don't be afraid to show your art to the world either (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

Here, a few recent doodles for your ask!

#ask #outlast #outlast trials #outlast fandom #outlast fanart #outlast trials fanart #father maria #outlast trials oc #prime asset oc #outlast trials prime asset oc #prime asset

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mambodork · 8 months ago

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Boatem supervillains au is awesome.

Question, is the desert duo in it platonic or romantic? Just out of curiosity.

:D tysm !! Im glad you like it <3

I don't really do too much /r in my art and perfer their relationship in my stuff to be ambiguous so people could interpret it as much as they want :3

I'm definitely not opposed to it being /r and kinda fw it myself, but I don't rlly see myself posting anything too obviously /r in the near future, not without proper tagging atleast <3

Ty for asking !

#vale asks

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starsurfacemortalkombat · 4 months ago

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Middle space reader with CG Johnny cage (mk1 and mk11?, separately)

also maybe CG sindel and CG Shao Kahn (mk11, together) with middle space reader?

I'll post the other one some time later. :3

Also, do you have have any middlespace activity suggestions? I never know what to write for it :(

Btw, there's some curse word mentions in here, but nothing too bad

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Johnny Cage MK1 w/ Middlespace Regressor Hcs

⭐️ Really good with middlespace regressors!!

⭐️ A bigger kid? Awesome! There's so many fun activities you two can do!!

⭐️ If you like doing your nails, he'd get, and learn, how to do nails on you and him

⭐️ It takes many attempts, the results are . . . there, and it's totally not, very much mostly, his fault <3

⭐️ I'm not saying he'd let you curse all the time . . . But definitely some times 😎

⭐️ Like, he didn't hear that naughty word, must have never happened! (he thinks he's cool by letting you slide most time since your bigger) (unless you curse often while regressed, he won't do it around you, but its chill)

⭐️ Big kids can watch scary movies, so he defiantly let's some more pg13+ (and a very select few rated R) movies slide

⭐️ ^ Nothing too bad or gory, he won't let all movies slide

⭐️ . . . His movies are definitely on the ay-okay list

⭐️ He also thrives for teen drama movies, no cap

⭐️ Dress up? Nah, nah, cosplay! (Big kid dress up)

⭐️ He's got a bunch personally, closet cosplays one of his favorite big kid activities

⭐️ If you're cool going outside while small, Johnny's got you!!

⭐️ Skating parks, he'd make sure you have a blast!!

⭐️ Zoo or Aquarium trips? Total big kid thing, he'll give you as many animal facts as he can

⭐️ Afraid of the press? No worries. It can be pretty scary, but Johnny's already figured it out (outlandish outfit, he’ll be the center of attention, you won't even be noticed most times)

⭐️ He'll play more ‘bigger’ games with you, more leaning towards things like Halo instead of kiddie phone games

⭐️ ^ But it has to be on easy, or he's gonna own you 💪 (he's words, not mine-)

⭐️ Snapchat filter time is his FAVORITE, if you allow him to take pictures, he'll have a whole album just of you two being silly with it

⭐️ More ‘darker’ middlespace? Like emo, goth, scene, grudge, etc? Johnnys got you

⭐️ Makeup, eyeliner, outfit styling, he knows the works (and some great pg bands to listen to!!)

⭐️ Definitely not against making bracelets, but he probably uses most of the beads by accident 😬 (he'll buy more . . . And do it again)

⭐️ He'll move away from nicknames like Little One or Kiddo, and more towards ones like Superstar or Pumpkin (unless asked)

⭐️ Nerd too, especially if you like ‘geeky’ things

⭐️ (^ He is very up for watching the entirety of Star Wars with you in your headspace, and will listen to your rambles or answer as many questions as he can)

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Johnny Cage MK11 w/ Middlespace Regressor Hcs

💫 Semi related to the other one, but he already knows how to do your nails 😎

💫 He’s old(er), and a girl dad, he knows a lot of things

💫 Like tying kandi bracelets so they won’t come apart! He’ll even put them on the string so they won’t fall!

💫 A bit more strict with curse words (Unless that isn’t your rule at all)

💫 Like, yeah, your bigger … But you better watch those words Mister/Missy!

💫 He gives me more of a grunge teenage phase than a punk one (MK1 Johnny gives me ex-punk/rock phase), so he’s pretty good at finding ph types of music if you're interested in that!

💫 The press isn’t on him as much as they used to be, but sometimes it's still difficult to regress in public at times

💫 His favorite middlespace activity? Music in the park, it's like a mini concert!

💫 Will argue about putting you down for nap time though, especially if your acting naughty 😕

💫 Just cause your bigger, doesn't mean you can act naughty now!!

💫 . . . Unless it's pranking, he'd help with some (like pranking Jacqui or Cassie! What's better better a few laughs?)

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I'm so sorry, I had no ideas for MK11 Johnny, I'm always really bad at writing HCs for him 😭

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frost-queen · 1 year ago

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A smile is what it will take (Male!Reader X Morgana Pendragon)

Requested by anon Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: Male!R is Merlin's brother. When a girl has her eyes on you, it makes Morgana jealous that you would smile at her. Surely when you rarely smile. Immediately calling for your brother, she wishes to speak with you. Once in her room, you are greeted with pillows and harsh words. Accusing you and pouring her heart out about her feelings to you. Surprised you walk up to her, kissing her. Having felt the same, but never thinking she did.

Horses strutted on the cobble stone as the knights rode out. One of the horses sat your brother, waving you goodbye. You rose your hand with a polite smile, to return your brother’s greeting. – “Merlin!” – Arthur would call out for him to keep up. Merlin smiled sheepishly at you before catching up with Arthur. Gwain chuckling loud how Merlin responded like a dog to Arthur’s calling. You returned back to your work, unsaddling one of the horses. You set all the material aside to clean later.

Taking the horse by the reins, you started leading it over the cobble stone across the square to the water benches. You barely noticed it till the girl moved in front of you. – “Morning Y/n.” – she said. A sweet smile on her lips, hands giddily behind her back. You simply looked at her, leading the horse around her. The girl turned round, rushing over to keep up. – “May I accompany you Y/n?” – she asked. – “If you must.” – you answered not really caring for it. She came falling in step with you. – “I’ve seen you at work Y/n.” – she started as you kept quiet. Focused on your work.

You arrived at the water benches, tying the reins up around the wooden pole. The horse started drinking from the basin as you patted it on the shoulder. You went around the horse as she moved underneath it’s head to reach you faster. – “You are really strong.” – she commented as it made you quirk your eyebrow up. – “I guess.” – you answered not sure what to say. You bend down to pick up a bucket. Scooping some of the water in it. Taking a step back, you splashed some water onto the horse to get some of the mud off.

The girl jumped back to not get splattered. – “Say Y/n I was thinking…” – she started looking carefully around where she could step to keep her shoes clean. You grabbed a brush, combing the horse to get the mud off it. She came closer once more as you rather just did your work. – “My bed needs mending.” – she called out, making you stop. – “What?” – you asked unsure what she meant by that. – “My bed needs mending. It’s been shrieking almost the entire night. I think it might break apart.” – she went on.

“What does it have to do with me?” – you replied continue to brush the horse. – “Your handy Y/n, can’t you fix it?” – she asked. – “It is a fine opportunity to see my room.” – she added. – “Why would I need to see your room?” – you replied clueless. The girl giggled giddy. She started to come closer, touching your chest. – “To clean it.” – she responded sarcastically, surely meaning something else.

You couldn’t follow why she was even laughing at that. – “You… you want me to clean your room?” – you responded. The girl clicked her tongue. – “No, I want you to do something else.” – she spoke with a wink. It made you stare confused at her. She started laughing at her own pleasure, already imagining being in one room with you alone. Feeling uneasy, you simply started to smile back, not sure what she meant.

Up in her room was Morgana. Pacing around waiting for Gwen to appear. She neared her window, her gaze catching something quickly in her passing. It made her stumbled back to her window to be sure. It was true. Seeing you down below on the courtyard. Through the glass, she thought she could see you smile. Something you rarely did, even around her. Morgana pushed her window open to be certain. Leaning a bit out of her window, she watched the display. You smiling at a girl. Her gaze lowered, feeling drained off all her happiness.

Feeling the ache in her heart that you were smiling at someone else as she rather wished it was her. Wishing it was her down below, smiling upon you. Blessed with a smile in return from you. Her heart thumping loudly in her chest with yearning. Yearning for your affection. Her yearning changed her self-pity to jealousy. Sharpening her gaze, she hated the girl. Repulsed you for smiling back at her.

There was a knock on the door as Gwen entered. – “Morning My lady.” – Gwen spoke holding a towel. – “Your bath is prepared My lady.” – she curtsied for Morgana even though she wasn’t looking. Morgana turned around sharply. – “Delay the bath, I want Merlin in here!” – she let out. Gwen blinked confused at her lady. – “Merlin? My lady he is out riding with Arthur.” – Gwen informed her.

Morgana tensed her jaw. – “When he returns from hunting, you bring him immediately up to me! I have to speak with him!” – Morgana demanded, dismissing Gwen. Gwen bowed her head, leaving the room. Morgana returned to the window, wanting to see you again.

To her surprise you had left. Even the horse was gone. Probably stabled. In anger and annoyance she paced around. Waiting for Merlin to arrive. Gwen waited at the castle door waiting for the knights to return. They rode up the courtyard. Gwen lifted the hem of her dress up, running over to them.

Arthur already ascended from his horse. – “Gwen lovely to see you.” – Arthur addressed her as she ignored him in a hurry. She rushed over to Merlin who was about to ascend from his horse. – “Morgana requires to speak with you.” – she let out, holding the horse by the reins. Merlin looked confused back at her. – “About?” – he asked her.

Gwen had no answer for that. – “Just hurry.” – she grabbed him by his elbow, pushing him towards the castle. Confused and slightly worried went Merlin up to her quarters. He knocked at her door, waiting for her to tell him to enter. He entered cautiously. – “You… you wished to speak with me?” – he said, seeing her stand by the window, arms crossed.

“Yes.” – she answered bitterly. – “Tell your brother to come up here.” – she told him. – “Scuse me?” – Merlin said confused to the reason for him to come. Morgana turned more to him. – “Bring your brother up to here, did I make myself clear Merlin!” – she called out in fury.

Merlin bowed. – “Right away, My lady.” – he answered. When he left the room, he wondered why he needed to come just for that. When she could’ve easily called for him herself. Merlin went to the lower parts of the castle. Gaius quarters where he knew he’d find you. You were playing a serious game of cards with Gaius when Merlin entered.

“Morgana needs you.” – Merlin said upon entering. – “Me?” – Gaius questioned, pointing at himself. Merlin came sitting at the edge of the table. – “No Y/n.” – he nudged you. – “Me? Why?” – you wanted to know. Your brother shrugged his shoulders. – “I am simply following orders.” – Merlin spoke as you got up with a loud sigh. Quietly you went up to her quarters.

With a knock, you announced yourself. – “You called.” – you said in a low voice already entering half. Morgana groaned loud as you got surprised by a pillow. It startled you, hitting you against the arm. – “What was that for?” – you asked confused. Morgana grunted loud, throwing another pillow at you. This time aiming for your head as you needed to duck down to avoid it.

“You shameless prick!” – she shouted at you, throwing another pillow. Turning your posture away, you let your shoulder catch the pillows. – “You utter horse’s arse!” – she screamed out, making you widen your eyes at her insults. She threw another pillow at you as you ducked down as it went just over your head.

“How dare you toy with my feelings so much! To think I love you while you flirt with other girls. Well I hope you never smile again in your life!” – she screamed out. – “What?” – you called out, pausing, receiving a pillow against the head. – “You don’t feel sorry do you! Of course you don’t! Why would you!” – she blamed you searching around for another pillow as she had thrown them all from her bed.

In the moment of peace within the storm, you got in motion. Walking up to her. Morgana’s eyes widened when you neared, turning her posture more to you. Tilting your head a bit, you placed your hand on the back of her head. Bringing your lips closer to her to kiss her. Your lips kissed her to lead her into a soft kiss.

Morgana inhaled sharply through her nose, grabbing you by the shirt to deepen the kiss on you. Leading you into a more passionate kiss. Your hands held her by the waist, enjoying the kiss to it’s fullest. Both of you broke the kiss off, out of breath. – “I…I had no idea… If I knew Lady Morgana, I would’ve told you I loved you desperately long ago.” – you confessed to her.

Morgana’s eyes widened. – “I never knew… I thought you didn’t felt the same.” – you added. Morgana grabbed you by the shirt once more. – “I sure do.” – she breathed out before pressing her lips to yours again. – “If I ever see you smile at another girl, you will regret it.” – she warned you, having broken off the kiss for a moment. Her warning made you gulp soft. Her eyes twinkled when you curled up a smile to her. Blissful, she kissed you again, losing her mind over that smile of yours.

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