#huddling for warmth

[oceansssblue]

hello hello friend, i have a writing request!

can i get a commander mayday x reader? something along the lines of reuniting after him surviving barton 4, just some fluffy fluff (and maybe a little angst sprinkled in if you feel its necessary hehe)

much love <3

Hey there! Interesting request, we don't see much of Mayday round here but I totally get the appeal!

Obviously some changes to the show, but all for us to enjoy ;)

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"COLD WITHOUT YOU"

SW REQUESTS –MAYDAY/(GN)READER 📩💔💖

WARNINGS: FROSTBITE&INJURY, OTHERWISE FLUFF.

It is a cold day in Barton IV; and that is saying a lot, considering the ever present freezing air on the almost desolate planet currently ruled by the Galactic Empire. You are somewhat of a nomad, having left the troubles of your past life behind; living a mostly solitary life in the mountains. It isn't the most comfortable of lifes; but you appreciate the peace and quietness that blankets your little home cavern after so much pain and destruction.

You step inside your home, instantly feeling physically better. The cave you live in shields you perfectly from the howling wind; and once you lit up a small fire in your humble living room of sorts, the temperature rises slowly but steadily. Today has been one of those days where the cold seems to slip it's thin fingers inside your clothes; leaving them humid and sticking them to your skin.

You disrobe and change to an entirely new set of clothes. You're shaking while you do so; but soon you're dressed with a dry set and you sigh in relief, sitting down next to the fire and pulling your socks off, smiling at the warming heat inches away from your frozen toes. It feels like heaven, such a small thing.

You stay close to the fire for some minutes, warming up. Once the tingling sensation has reduced and your skin and muscles feels something akin to normal, you reach over to your vault and take a pack of rations out.

"Cheers, Mayday" you joke out loud, and take your first bite into it.

It's not your everyday dinner; not you're favourite. You're pretty self-dependant. You know how to hunt your food –wether it's edible plants and fruits, or a small or large mammals–. Birds are more difficult to catch –unless they're injured–; but you've definitively had them more than once too. Hell, you've even had lizards and other small reptiles for lunch. However, when the temperatures are extremely cold and you aren't as lucky as to find much of a prey, you always have Mayday's extra rations. That's actually how the two of you met; he was scanning the perimeter of his base, once, and you were inmerse on the hunt. He watched you kill a mountain cat; and made a comment about that being a good ammount of food for two. You had been shocked by his presence and his suggestion; but loneliness had started to pull on the strings of your heart back then, and you had nodded dumbly. That night you had shared your first dinner and the warmth of your bodies; and the rest was history.

In present time, you go to sleep with a tired but soft smile on your face.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hours later, you wake up with shuffling steps and grunts right outside your cave. You instantly frown and grab your blade, standing up quietly and slithering towards the entrance in alert. It sounds human, so your first instint is to think of Mayday; but there's more than one set of wobbly steps, and he would never bring visitors unannounced. No, it's definitively a stranger.

You see him first. He's tall and skinny; you can see that even with his armour on. It's different than those you've seen before as well; almost black, and paiting a dark contrast against the white of the snow behind him. He's got a riffle attached to his back and a visor on his helmet; some sort of sniper. He's covered in snow, shaking visibly; his companion too, who has to be almost dragged inside in order to...

"M-mayday?" You stutter, freezing on the spot and lowering your blade, abandoning your agressive possition instantly.

"W-we're going to n-need some... help..." the stranger grunts, teeth clashing violently against each other, and you spring into action, quickly standing at your partner's other side and holding some of his weight.

The three of you stumble inside; and collapse near the fire.

You're frenetically checking him inmediately. You rip his helmet of; for once having no care where it lands while you cup his face trying to get his attention and then take his pulse when he barely responds. It's faint but it's there.

"What happened?" You question the stranger in pannick.

You quickly work on taking his armour off; piling it up fast and methodically at your side. You feel the stranger studying you, but you don't even glance at him. Mayday is all that matters now.

"Avalanche" he answers, voice raspy "he hit his head. The most worrying thing now is the frostbite, though. I'd take a look at his feet if I were you".

You nod in understanding.

You're both silent for the next handful of minutes; while you leave Mayday in just his underware before covering him with one thick blanket after another. You take up some heating packs of your vault too; breaking the sticks and pushing them under the blankets so he warms up even faster. You throw some other things at the stranger too; hear him change as well in the silence of your home.

Mayday's still shivering half an hour later. His skin still looks dangerously red and blue; body trembling in his unconsciousness. You've already pushed him close to the fire, used some heat sticks, changed his wet clothes and covered him in blankets. There's only so much you can do.

Without worrying on the other soldier seing you half naked, you take your clothes off, and cuddle up close to Mayday inside his refuge of blankets. He's so cold it makes you wince and tremble; but you clench your jaw and stubbornly press your whole body against him. He needs you, and the cold isn't going to stop you. Mayday mumbles and you soothe him with a caress and a Keldabe kiss.

"You better not try anything or you'll end up dead" you warn the soldier, who's still looking at the both of you, either from mistrust or surprise.

"Won't" you hear him grumble, shakily. "You're my best chance of survival. Besides, I owe him".

You only desperately wish Mayday survives the night as well.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You wake up with your man mumbling incoherent words and pressing further into you, cold –but normal cold– nose hiding on the curve of your neck. You blink sleeply, and scan him instantly; a relieved sigh escaping your lips at the feeling of his no longer alarming body temperature stealing some of yours.

Your hands come up to cup his face; brushing his long disheveled hair aside and staring at him with raw adoration and love. You can't help yourself and kiss him, then; a soft, heartfelt press of lips.

Mayday groans and groggily opens his eyes; scanning the situation –gaze lingering on Crosshair's lying form a pair of meters away– before returning to you. He hums, and hides his face in your neck again, kissing your skin gently.

"Morning, cyare" he whispers, voice hoarse but sounding like a dream to you. "Sorry for stealing your heat tonight".

You sigh in content and wrap your leg around his hips. One of Mayday's strong big hands reaches down to hold your thigh against him.

"Just happy you're safe and sound, May" you whisper back at him, pulling back to look at him in the eyes. "You scared the shit out of me".

Mayday hums and tugs you closer to him. The warmth feels delicious below the blankets. You can't help but feel a slow, unhurried tingle of arousal building inside of you. You don't do anything to chase it.

"Mm. I know. I'm sorry, mesh'la. Yesterday was a mess".

You stay in silence for some time; both of you caressing each other's skin softly.

Your eyes glance back at the other soldier sleeping on your cave.

"Who is he?" You whisper to him.

Mayday takes a moment to answer.

"Imperial sniper. A clone, though obviously different than me. I Think... Think he's starting to get tired of it. Some part of him clinges to the Empire like it's the only thing he has left; but I think it's just a matter of time before he let's go".

You hum distractedly. Your nose brushes against his.

"You trust him?"

Mayday sighs.

"Trust is a powerful word" he carefully answers. "I think he's made some bad choices, like me. But he's a good kid".

You give him a soft smile and kiss his lips once more. His beard and mustache tickles your skin.

"You can't save everyone".

Mayday smiles; a small, nostalgic tug of his lips.

"I know" he whispers, closing his eyes and cupping your cheek with his hand, foreheads pressing together. "I'll just focus on you, then".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Boom! This oneshot came up being a mix of fluffy and nostalgic/melancholy angsty! I hope you liked it!

Next work will be a non romantic Echo&Omega angsty/comfort convo. After that we've got a cryptic pregnancy with Hunter, and then some more fun&light oneshots too!

Stay stunned,

Xx,

Sky.

PS. Still not knowing how to link works with just the title. I accept help xD.

Back to my main masterlist here:

[neon-junkie]

Knee-deep in Trouble

Summary: If there's one thing worse than being stuck in a snow storm, it's being stuck in a snow storm with your least favourite squad mate - Crosshair.

Pairing: Crosshair x gn!Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Enemies to friends, Huddling for warmth, Snow storms, Arguments, Bickering, Sleepy cuddles, Touch starved.

Notes: the recent episode got me THINKIN. yeah, i wanna cuddle this man, but... what if we hated each others guts? and we HAVE to cuddle for our own survival? mwahahah

Out of all the scenarios that could have happened today, this one just had to arise.

First, you were cut off from the rest of the Batch. Your comm lost signal as the snowstorm began to thicken, and all hopes of communicating the others dwindled as your main focus became finding shelter.

Your armour is only doing so much to keep you warm, and only now do you curse yourself for not opting for a helmet. A thick hood, scarf, and goggles are doing well at protecting your face, but the chill continues to seep into your bones as every second passes.

And even now, knee-deep in snow, trudging towards the mountain in hopes of finding some sort of shelter, you still manage to bark up another argument with your least favourite member of the Batch. "Hurry up," Crosshairs words are sharp, peering over his shoulder for a short moment to see you following behind. You're using his tracks to your advantage, pushing through the loose snow, allowing him to take the lead like a bulldozer.

You let out a grunt, "not all of us have stupidly long legs." Crosshair doesn't bother replying. There's no point. Instead, he pushes forward, and keeps his helmet dipped down to protect his sights from the incoming snow. Minutes pass, although time has blurred into one. All you've known for the last thirty minutes is to push forward, keep walking, and follow Crosshair's trail. Through your goggles, all you can see is white - thick heaps of snow that only continues to pile higher and higher. The mountain is now within your reach, and you follow the edge, waiting for some form of shelter to appear.

"This will do," Crosshair comments as he comes upon an assortment of boulders, providing some shelter from the storm. With a frown, you let out a disappointed, "is this it?" as you gesture to the tiny crevices that will barely keep you covered, let alone warm.

Despite not being able to see Crosshair's expression, you know he's scowling as he gestures to the surrounding area. "Do you see any other options?"

No, you don't, but you're not going to give up hope. "I'm going to push on," you say as you turn back to him, and vaguely gesture into the distance. Surely there will be a cave up ahead, or a cliff that provides cover. There must be something better than some rogue boulders.

Pushing through the snow, Crosshair grabs at your forearm with a tut. "You will not," he scolds. "We need to stick together. This is as good as it's going to get," Crosshair points to the 'shelter,' and you pull your hand from his in disgust, let out a grumble with it. "I'm going," you repeat. "You can sit with your boulder buddies and freeze to death. I'll find a cave, get warm, then collect your body once the storm has passed." With that, you continue moving forwards, unbothered if Crosshair chooses to follow. His lips purse in annoyance, and he's rather vocal about his frustration. Still, he follows you, telling himself that it's purely for the fact that you're going to get yourself killed, and he'll be the one collecting bodies. The mountain itself would provide decent cover, if it wasn't for the fact that the snow is falling against your direction. One gloved hand comes up to move your scarf higher on your face, tucking the edges beneath your goggles to prevent it from slipping down again. At least your nose is warm, the complete opposite to your toes.

Despite his armour's heating system, Crosshair is now really starting to feel the chill. His teeth are clattering together beneath his helmet, and every so often, his fingertips brush over one of his belt pouches. Inside are the tools necessary to start a fire, and he'll be damned if those tools are somehow taken from him, despite never falling out of his pocket before. Your feet come to a halt, and Crosshair, who isn't looking up, bumps into your back with a grumble. "What is it?" he groans as you look over your shoulder, silently cursing him for running into you without an apology. "What does that look like?" you point ahead. Crosshair squints through his visor, before flicking his helmet's scope down to zoom in on the area up ahead. "A cave," he mutters.

"I told you I was right," you shrug, and you're met with another grumble. "Don't let it get to your head," Crosshair huffs as he pushes past you, eager to get out of this knee-deep snow. With a roll of your eyes, you follow behind, allowing Crosshair to clear the last stretch of your journey. The cave is deep, stretching far deeper than you require. You only need shelter, not another adventure, so you and Crosshair pitch yourselves several meters from the entrance. For the first time in what feels like hours, snow and wind is no longer against you; all you need to do now is stay warm, and stay alive.

Once his helmet is removed, Crosshair crouches down and begins pulling supplies from his belt pouch. It's standard GAR equipment, but it's enough to get a fire up and running, and hopefully, keep it burning for longer than you need. However, once lit, the flame is... disappointing. "Is that it?" you sigh, looking at the meek fire at your feet. Crosshair looks up at you whilst feeding the remains of his supplies to the flame, encouraging it to grow, even if it's just a little. Despite the tiny flicker of light, your goggles begin to steam up, so they're reassigned to sitting on your forehead, allowing you to give your eyes a well-needed rub, and relax your scarf around your neck. "This pack is usually only assigned to one person," Crosshair replies, watching you sit down opposite him. You know that the clones are kitted with essentials to survive, which would explain why Crosshair only has enough for himself. If only you had your backpack with you - the backpack that is sitting back on the Marauder, because this mission was meant to be a simple retrieval, until you wound up separated from the others, and lost in a snow storm. "It's better than nothing, I suppose." Crosshair lets out a simple, "mhm," as he gets comfortable opposite you.

Silence fills the air, minus the howling winds coming from down the cave. Silence - as in, the silence between you and Crosshair - is common. You've never really seen eye to eye, both too stubborn for your own good. Maybe that's why he went after you when the Batch split up, covering different routes as part of your mission. He must have known that you would wind up in trouble, which is why he told Wrecker to go with Hunter instead, pairing himself up with you. You are his squad mate, after all. Far from a friend, but still an asset to the team. "What is it?" Crosshair questions, and only now do you realise that you've been staring at him.

"Nothing," you reply with a firm shake of your head. Crosshair's eyes squint for a brief moment, before he decides to bite his tongue, and not bother pushing your buttons. (For once.) "Why don't you get some rest?" Crosshair suggests, which might be his first good suggestion of the day. Maker knows how long this storm will brew for, and you need to be physically prepared for more trudging through that snow, which must be thigh high at this point.

"Only if you do the same," you reply. Such kind words cause Crosshair's eyes to widen, only for a moment, before he pulls his emotional mask back on. There's no need for either of you to be on watch, and despite your disliking for the man, the bags under his eyes are as heavy as yours. Rest is needed, for both of you.

"You first. I'll follow," Crosshair replies with a soft nod. "I want to finish warming myself up first." With a light sigh, you shift onto your side, pulling your knees up against your chest. The fire is warm against your face, and hopefully, it'll continue to warm the rest of your body up as you sleep. Your hood acts as the thinnest pillow in existence, but it's thick enough to keep the chill of the cave floor away from your ear, and you'll take what you can get. Finally, your lases flutter shut, and it doesn't take eternity for you to drift into a deep slumber.

-

Crosshair is loitering.

Why? He doesn't really know. You've been asleep for an hour, and in that time, Crosshair has cleaned the snow from his armour and rifle, wandered deeper into the cave to find the remains of another campfire, long forgotten, and scavenged the leftovers from it. The fire is eating away at new material, yet Crosshair is still huddling close to it, as if it's a fading source of warmth. There's a chill in his bones that he can't seem to shake off. No matter what he does, no matter how warm he feels on the surface, his insides feel cold. With slanted brows, he brings his knees up to his chest, and wraps his armoured arms around his thighs. Silver hair rests against his forearm as he presses his cheek to his knees, breathing deeply as his eyes shut. He can't relax. He can't warm up. Crosshair thinks, questioning what to do. He's oh-so-tense, and his muscles are long worn out from shivering. However, it seems he's not the only person who has a chill within them. Crosshair's eyes perk open at the sound of whimpering. There, on the cave floor, is you, sound asleep; only you're not sound asleep. You're shivering, curled up in a ball besides the fire, struggling to maintain heat in the depths of your slumber. Untucking himself from his position, Crosshair pulls his glove off to press his palm against your cheek. There's barely any warmth to you, and it's a mystery how you've not woken up. Crosshair has found himself in a predicament. Despite not being the best of friends, Crosshair doesn't want you, nor himself, to freeze to death. The fire is growing, but it's still not enough for either of you. He has an idea - a silly, foolish idea that you're bound to hate him even more for - but he can't bring himself to wake you up and offer the suggestion.

Well, what if he doesn't have to wake you? A deep grumble slips from his lips as he ponders his options. Surely you'll understand, right? It's not like there are any other options, and you can't hate him any more than you already do.

With that, Crosshair slips his glove back on and rises to his feet. He walks over to you, tilting his head as he analyses your curled up pose, questioning how he can fit with you - like pieces to a puzzle. He's quiet as he dips down to his knees, tucking his body behind yours. Crosshair remains propped up on one elbow, and cautiously positions his legs around yours, followed by his torso. You've barely shifted in your sleep, jittering away whilst soft huffs slip from your lips, only your whimpering seems to calm as Crosshair places his hand around your waist, ensuring that it's firmly in the centre of your torso, not wondering north or south. With that, he shifts himself off his elbow, allowing his head to rest against the cave floor. This isn't his first time sleeping on the floor, nor stone floor, for that matter; still, it's uncomfortable, but he'll take what he can get. After letting out a deep breath, Crosshair finally bites the bullet. Using the arm wrapped around your waist, Crosshair pulls your body against his, fitting perfectly together. He's cuddling you, in some form or other, but there are instant results. Your jittering is coming to an end, and somehow, Crosshair is already managing to feel warmth growing inside his chest.

Or are those butterflies?

Whatever. He allows his eyes to fall shut, and finally gets some rest.

-

It's not often that you drool in your sleep. However, this is one of those few occasions. The sensation of your drool dripping over your cheek shakes your body awake, and through groggy vision, you move a hand off your pillow to wipe your spit away. Your arm returns to your pillow, clutching onto it tighter as you pull it against your chest. Something firm is pressed to your cheek - firm, yet warm, like plastoid armour on a-

Wait.

You let out a soft, "huh?" as your eyes open, soon focusing on familiar red and black armour. Somebody's chest plate is acting as your pillow, along with their arm, keeping your head off the cave floor.

Ah, yes. The cave. The cave that you entered to shelter from the snowstorm, and of all the people that you could have been thrown into the deep end with, it just happened to be-

"Would you stop fidgeting?" a rather frustrated, yet quiet voice calls out. Looking up through your lashes, your eyes come into focus with Crosshair, who is attempting to sleep. His expression is neutral, eyes shut, and dare you say it, but Crosshair looks rather sweet when he's cooped up at your side.

You let out a sheepish, "sorry." Your eyes wander around the cave, soon meeting the entrance. It's light outside, the sun is shining down overhead, and the snow looks far tamer than it was last night. Your way out might not be as cursed after all, but a new issue has risen. Crosshair is softly snoring, and his grip on you is deadly. He is not letting go, or at least, not without a fight. For a man who prefers his own company, he seems rather touch starved, and whilst you clash heads with him, you're content with giving him the comfort that he so clearly needs.

And it's a good thing that you're content with this scenario, as Crosshair rolls over onto his side, engulfing you deeper into his grasp.

Sure, plastoid armour isn't the comfiest thing to cuddle, but the man beneath it is. Your chest is pressed to his, legs tangled up together, and Crosshair's arms are holding you tightly against him. He's rather soothing like this, your personal teddy bear, but you know that he's only doing this for warmth. It pains you; you may not get along, but you can't deny that you aren't soft on him. Perhaps your soft spot is mutual, as despite your clashing heads, Crosshair wouldn't do this if he truly disliked you.

"Go back to sleep," Crosshair quietly mutters, his voice barely audible above his deep breaths.

"What?" you stir, peering up to see his tired expression, eyes remaining shut.

"I can hear you thinking," he replies. The hand around your waist moves up, and gloved fingertips entwine themselves in your hair. Crosshair begins to softly massage your scalp, earning a pleasant hum, and for your eyes to close. "Quit thinking, and get some rest," Crosshair demands once more.

Mhm, can't argue with that. You allow yourself to become engulfed in warmth, pressing your chest tighter against Crosshair's, with your forehead resting against his collarbones. His fingers continue to glide against your hair, offering nothing but comfort.

In this moment, you feel nothing but safe and secure. Crosshair is doing all he can to keep you warm, and you've been the fool for being so harsh on him - not that your harshness isn't reciprocated. And it seems you're as touch starved as he is, as you're clinging onto him for dear life, soaking up all the physical contact that you can get.

Maybe it's time to turn over a new leaf, see eye to eye, and allow your similar personalities to grow, rather than clash. Maybe Crosshair isn't so bad after all.

[linecrosser]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 17 - Hypothermia

Whumptober 2023 - Day 17 - Hypothermia

trapped in a snowstorm

[whumpster-dumpster]

Chilled Whumpee pressing their face into the warm curve of Caretaker's neck. Caretaker flinching and hissing because Whumpee's chapped, drippy nose is like an ice cube against their pulse point but they can't bring themself to pull away

[comfortingcatharsis]

The classic huddling for warmth, but specifically with the two characters huddled in one's cloak/robes/oversized coat. Both of them sharing the same garment, sharing body-heat with the wearer of the makeshift blanket wrapping the other in their embrace, holding the folds of fabric close around them both.

[scarerjh]

Peri-menopause/Post Apocalypse

Joel Miller x f!You One Shot.

Summary: You’re on patrol with Joel (ooh I rhymed), get stuck in a cabin until morning, a little bit of body warmth trope, a little bit of one bed (cabin) trope, with a sprinkling of idiots in love. Also S.M.U.T.

You were on holiday when it happened, in a foreign country celebrating your twenty tenth birthday that had been in the February. Now it was about 6 weeks until your twenty thirtieth birthday and you were hauled back into your memories as you trotted behind Joel quietly as you did the late patrol.

You had survived 20 years of an apocalypse, and in a foreign country. The first of your five friends on holiday with you hadn’t even survived outbreak day, you’d had to dispatch her yourself, your other friends never looked at you the same after that, and you didn’t feel the same. You had a few memories that made you smile though too, you almost chuckle thinking about Alice as you looted the shops to get what you needed before trying to head out of Austin, the first city on your planned road trip. Alice had picked up boxes of condoms saying, “you never know,”. “I’m pretty sure an apocalypse is contraception enough right now,” you had retorted.

Like many around you in Jackson, including the stoic man in front of you, you’d done things you never thought yourself capable of to survive; you carried the guilt of being the only survivor amongst your friends, and carried the sorrow of not even knowing if your family was alive, and you weren’t sure you would come to terms with never knowing. Without evidence there was always hope…and hope fucking hurts.

You’d been in Jackson for about four years, your skills as a medic being a huge bartering tool to get them to let you stay. Somehow, you’d managed to carve out a life, and for being in an apocalypse, things were peaceful when not on patrol. In Winter, days like today, patrol was usually quiet too.

 The snow started falling and at first it was pretty despite there already being more than enough on the ground. Within the hour a snowstorm seemed to be settling in, so you sped up, needing to get to the checkpoint and return to Jackson ASAP.

At the cabin you signed the book for the two of you as Joel checked everything was secure, it was a basic little place and would often require ongoing repairs, especially in Winter, despite this, it was still a shock when you heard the crash of wood and a gruff curse. To your right Joel stood covered in a new dust of snow, the door to the cabin at his feet.

You both tried your best to make the cabin secure with what basic tools were available, but it was rotten, and the top hinge was completely unusable.

Joel stood with his hands on his hips surveying the door and caught you bouncing on your toes blowing on your cold fingers.

“Okay, we’ll make ourselves a fire and set in for the night until the mornin’ patrol come,”

“Shit, it’s going to be freezing,”

“We’ll be alright, I’ll build a fire, you grab any blankets you can find. We’ll make do,”

You were never averse to spending time with Joel, but you were averse to returning to Jackson with fewer toes than you left with. Every scrap of fabric in the place was hunted down and you started building by the fireplace before you set up the stove.

As Joel worked on building the fire you watch his broad back shift, and his big hands handle the logs and kindling. His jeans pulled taut over his backside, showing off its gentle curve.

“I thought you were brewing coffee,” Joel spoke over his shoulder, pulling you away from your leering.

“I am,”

“Well, I ain’t hearin’ it,” his tone was teasing.

“Well, someone needs to hurry up and start the fire so I can use the flint for the stove,” you retorted.

The teasing in your friendship with Joel was a recent development, starting just a few weeks ago, and you liked it, really liked it. Since his arrival in Jackson he had slowly opened up to you as he settled in, and you observed the change keenly, like a lot of other singletons in Jackson. He was slowly getting used to not needing to be on alert all the time, his resting bitch face started to soften around the edges, and he was slowly becoming more sociable. He was still very much a calculated man, but every so often, and increasingly so, his guard was lowered around you, telling you once after a few whiskeys that he felt at ease around you, even safe.

The two of you were similar in some ways, both a little stubborn, both keeping your social circles small, and both too stupid to admit your attraction to the other, assuming it was one sided.

You saw all the single people in Jackson and how they looked at him, you were one of them. He was strong, handsome, and extremely capable, surprisingly soft spoken, and very polite. Every single person in Jackson seemed to want to solve the mystery that was Joel Miller. You think you’re ahead of the curve though, but that has led to unrequited feelings, and though you technically haven’t been rejected, you haven’t been brave enough to even try to blur that line between you. There were younger and prettier people than you in town, and he could have his pick, so why would he pick you?! You were discovering lines on your face, a little weight to your belly. If you weren’t sweating like a nun in a cucumber patch, you were looking like an idiot because you couldn’t think of the right word. You weren’t exactly feeling like a catch.

 Joel was pleased with his work, the door to the cabin barricaded with what furniture was available, a fire starting to take hold, and the bubbling of coffee behind him. He found himself smiling at your sass, it was one of his favourite things about your friendship, well, about you really. He never had any qualms about undertaking any kind of detail with you, but patrol was his favourite. Just the two of you sharing stories from before outbreak day, and plenty of them about days since. Being not too dissimilar in age you remember a lot of the same things. Your silences together were comfortable, you worked well as a team whether you were hunting or fighting. Somehow you made his coffee taste better, and despite hating it, you would sometimes steal a few sips if you were cold. He never failed to be both enamoured and amused as your nose would crinkle as you gasped after swallowing the bitter liquid. Joel thought you were so sweet, but you would never go for someone like him. Since becoming settled and opening himself up to the possibility of as close to a normal life as possible this new world could afford he’d started developing a niggle in his stomach, it started when he met you and has only got worse since. He found his gaze lingering on you, felt a tightness in his chest when you laughed, and a tightness in his jeans when you would strip to your tank top and fan yourself in one of your ‘tropical moments’, a thin film of sweat glistening on your skin that he wanted to lave with his tongue. But you were too kind, too bright, too beautiful to want him. He felt you could see his tainted soul when your bright eyes held his gaze.

“You havin’ some?” Joel offered up his cup of coffee.

“If I get desperate,”

“You don’t know what you’re missin’ darlin’,”

“I know very well what I’m missing,” you wiggled your socked toes near the fire. You spend the next hour idly chatting before making sure the barricade was holding before settling down for the night, zipping your sleeping bags together so your body heat would carry you through the night when the fire died. Sharing a bed or a sleeping bag wasn’t new to either of you so there was no embarrassment as you both got comfortable, ensuring your weapons were in reach before bidding each other goodnight.

Some of your most restful nights outside the walls of Jackson have been laid up against Joel, his warmth and musk lulling you towards sleep; eyelids suddenly heavy and muscles relaxing, sinking into the makeshift bedroll. Your slumber came so quickly you didn’t notice Joel pressing his lips softly to the top of your head.

Joel noticed it was an unsettled night for you, tossing and turning, but you remained asleep, so he just assumed you were uncomfortable. If you weren’t having a nightmare there was no reason for him to wake you. If he did, you’d probably kill him with a spoon.

A thud startled Joel awake, and he felt you curl into him, a small moan rising from you.

“Sssh!” came softly from your lips.

“It wasn’t me,” his voice was dry, and low from sleep. He felt you stiffen in his arms at the thought of an intruder or infected. His arm instinctively pulled you tighter into him as he surveyed the room. There was nothing and no one in the room besides the two of you and he started to relax. “Think your boots just fell over darlin’,”

As you both relaxed your sleep addled brains took a moment to register that Joel’s bare hand laid firmly in the middle of your very bare back. The realisation was almost in unison and you both looked down under the covers. Somehow during the night, you had stripped yourself of everything but your knickers.

“Oh fuck!” you clung onto Joel to try and hide yourself while he oscillated between amused, embarrassed, and turned on.

“The fire ain’t even that warm,” you could hear his amusement in his tone, but couldn’t see the struggle in his face with yours buried in his chest, cheeks burning furiously.

“It’s you!” you thump your fist into his chest.

“Wha…?!”

“You’re like a furnace, I must have started with a hot flush,” you look down at yourself again and Joel’s eyes follow suit, his gaze being met with your cleavage, your breasts pressed tight to his chest. He couldn’t stop the small groan that escaped his chest and his hand curled into a fist at your back. All he could think of was pushing is face into your soft flesh and inhaling your scent.

The sexual sound of his groan, the tight fist at your back lit a fire in you, and your pussy started to throb. You snapped your head up so quickly, trying to get a read on him that you headbutted his chin, his head reeled back as you swore in tandem.

"Oh fuck, Joel! I’m so sorry!” you instinctively rise and cradle his face in your hands surveying the damage. His eyes were watering slightly but he was otherwise unscathed. Having slid up his body Joel was very aware of you pressed against him, thigh almost encased by his own, breasts sitting high on his chest, so close he could probably just about reach their soft swell with the tip of his tongue. You watch Joels’ gaze fall to your cleavage, bounce up to your eyes before focusing on your lips. His warm hands squeeze your hips, and when you speak his name it’s a breathy question, one which he understands immediately, nose brushing against yours.

“Yeah,” he utters before your lips make contact. A shiver of adrenaline ran through you, causing you to inhale deeply through your nose because no way in hell were you letting your lips leave his. A small grunt parts Joel’s lips and you take your opportunity to delve your tongue into his mouth. His hands leave a blazing hot trail up your back as you shift to straddle him under the covers, his hips bucking immediately as your hot core presses against his hardening cock.

“Fuck…wanted you for months,” he spoke with your earlobe perched delicately between his teeth.

“Really?!”

“Yeah, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he looks up at you. “I tried to stop it, tried not to let you in…” he squeezed two handfuls of your backside.

“Let me in?!”

“I…I ain’t…fuck…I tried not to let you in,” his words may fail him, but his actions don’t as he places your palm over his heart as it heaves beneath his ribs. You crash your lips to his once more, kisses becoming feverish and sloppy, both of you fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as you grind against him, whimpering at the feeling of his hard cock caged in his jeans. Forcing you to sit up he pulled his shirt and t-shirt off over his head, both of you erupting in goosebumps as the cold air hits your warm skin.

“Oh shit darlin’, you’re so pretty,” he took the opportunity to gaze upon your bare body, palming your breasts gently, feeling your nipples tickle against his palms. He lowered his head to suck one nipple into his warm and wanting mouth, delighting in the gasp that rises from your throat. In this position his denim covered cock hits your clit just right and you begin riding him like that, slipping your fingers into his soft curls to anchor yourself against him. The undulations of your hips were as frustrating as they were relieving for the ache of his stiff cock.

“Joel…” you whimper as you get closer to your release, your soaked pussy clenching around nothing, the coil in your abdomen about to snap.

“Mmm, that feel good darlin’?”

“Yeah, oh fuck Joel, I’m gonna cum,”

“Cum all over me darlin’, I got you,”

“I want you inside me, want you to fill me up,” you wrap your arms around his neck and speak against his lips as you near your precipice.

“I will baby, I promise, but you gotta cum for me first, ‘kay? Cum for me and I’ll give you anythin’ you want,” He kissed his way along your jaw as you clung to him and your breaths stuttered, he buried his face in your neck laving your skin with his hot tongue as he listened to all of your sweet moans and whimpers in his good ear. You break against him, hips bucking, and a torrent of filth pouring from your lips, punctuated by moans of his name and calls to the almighty as lightening spread through your body.

“Oh fuck Joel,” your hands snake back into his hair and he throws his head into your touch as you gently scratch his scalp. You rest your forehead against his, a stupid, satiated smile plastered on your face.

“Good?” his eyes twinkled and his lips curled.

“Great!” you held his face in your hands and kissed him softly.

“That was so goddamn sexy, seein’ you come undone like that,”

“Let me see you,” you run your hands over the broad expanse of his chest.

“Yes ma’am,” he smiled as he rolled you both over so you were laid on your back. Everything seems to slow for a moment as you look up at him; the light from what’s left of the fire dancing across his strong features. As your fingers wander gently over his brow his eyes close at your delicate touch.

“I can’t believe you want me too,” you air your insecurities, not actually meaning to do so out loud. His eyes spring open, his gaze holding yours as an incredulous look sits on his face.

“Why wouldn’t I want you?!” he asked as though it’s obvious.

“Because I am currently feeling like an aging, sweaty mess. There are so many women in Jackson, younger, perkier, you could have your pick,”

“I think you’re overestimating my appeal,” he chuckles self-effacingly. “Besides…” he dips his head and lowers his voice to a low growl “…I have picked. Why would I want a girl when I want a woman…when I want you,” he punctuates his sentence with a strong roll of his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, I can’t promise I’m gonna last but I wanna be inside you, feel ya squeezin’ me,”

“I want it Joel, I want you inside me. I need to feel you, need you filling me up,”

“Yeah?” he looks up, eyes dark and studious of your features as he unfastens his jeans. You both shift so he can shuck them down enough to free his aching cock.

“Oh fuck, you’re going to feel so good,” you take in the heft of him and lick your lips.

“Think you can take me darlin’?” he asks in a gentle tone, rubbing his length along your soaked folds as he hooks your sodden panties out of the way.

“Yeah, just…slowly,” you give him a little wink. He notches the head of his cock at your entrance and watches for any signs of discomfort as he pushes in achingly slowly. Every ridge and vein of his cock, every adjustment of your soft walls around him was felt keenly. Your back arched into him as he became fully seated within you, his hands ran up to cup your breasts as you moaned in unison. “Fuck, you feel so good,” your hips squirm beneath him.

“Hold on sugar, jus' need a minute,” his twinkling eyes showed a playful warning.

“That’s three terms of endearment and it’s not even dawn,” you tease.

“Would you like me to stop?”

“No! I really like them, they sound so good in your Texan drawl,”

“Well then sugar…darlin’…sweetheart…” he began to plant sweet kisses over your face and neck with each word, finishing on a drawl filled “honey piiee,” as he smiled into the crook of your neck making you giggle, and he gasped as the action made you clench around him. His response was to grind his hips into yours.

“Move for me Joel,” you slid one leg up his side to further open yourself to him.

“I’m not gonna last darlin’,” you saw the worry flash across his features.

“I don’t care, I just want to feel you, want to watch you cum for me,”

“Goddammit.” He lunged forward and pushed his tongue into your mouth as he finally started moving his hips. His grunts, your sighs, the sound of skin on skin, with the wet sound of your pussy taking him was a beautiful, pornographic symphony.

“Oh god, oh god you feel so good, fuck,” you pant into his ear as you hold each other close, sweat slick bodies sliding against each other.

“Ngh! Feel so good sweetheart,”

“Fuck yes, your thick cock is perfect. I want you to cum for me Joel, let me see you,” his hips speed up, balls slapping against your backside and his brow is furrowed in concentration.

“Keep talkin’” he stutters out.

“I’ve got you, cum for me baby, give me that big cock and then paint me. Cum all over me,”

“Yes…yes…” he quickly slipped himself out and fisted his slick cock, thick ropes of cum decorating your stomach as he swore and groaned through his release. He looked wrecked, and so fucking sexy, features slack, dark eyes hooded, a thin film of sweat highlighting all of the curves and divots across his chest and shoulders. He supported himself at arm’s length as he caught his breath, shivering as your fingertips danced across his torso.

“That makes two of us,” he chuckled. “Give me a minute and I’ll get you cleaned up,” he rested his forehead against yours.

“You look incredible,” you sit up and kiss him, wiping the disbelieving look from his face. “You do, so strong, so handsome…so fucked,” you grin.

“No need to worry yourself,” you grab a t-shirt and wipe yourself off.

“Hey! That’s mine,”

“So was the mess,” you both chuckle, then soon he’s laid you down and wrapped himself around you, sighing softly as your fingers play in his hair.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1111

Submitted by Anon - thanks!

Found Family in a Zombie Apocalypse. That's it.

Mmhmm, allow me to add:

tw: suicide

Tending to injuries with minimum supplies. 

Long vigils.

Trying to keep the whumpee quiet during field-surgery so they don’t alert nearby zombies/raiders. 

The panic after being bitten.

Worrying if they’ve been infected. 

The infected decide to leave during the night (maybe to take their own life) to remove the emotional toll upon everyone. Maybe the whumpees have to fight off their zombie!family member... or they stumble across their corpse. Maybe someone can’t sleep, and they hear the infected leave that night. They also hear the gunshot echoing a short time later. 

Sleeping huddled together for warmth. 

The ‘dad’ of the group risking his life more often/going without food/supplies so his ‘kids’ don’t suffer. 

The difficult decisions that bring them closer - but some also cause arguments that span for days. 

[negativeyield]

runs cold, runs deep

chapter 1: skin to skin Summary: The ghouls happen upon you caught in a blizzard and nurse you back to health. When the blizzard snows you in, shenanigans ensue. main pairings: swiss x you / ghouls x ghouls / ghouls & you 2.7k words ~ rated M

Distantly, you wonder if you had that survival rule a little backward. Maybe you were supposed to wait in the car when stuck in the middle of a blizzard, not look for help on foot.

There was no turning back now. The swirls of howling snow had swallowed the path you came. With every step you trudged through shin-deep drifts, the space seemed to fill within seconds. You thought for sure there was a gas station just a little ways up the road. Now, you weren’t even sure you were still on the winding, mountainous highway.

Fucking perfect, you think, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. I wouldn’t be dying in the middle of hell as it freezes over if I just cancelled this stupid trip.

This “adventure” was meant to be a birthday present for your partner— ex-partner, now. The outdoors weren’t exactly your best friend, but you were willing to invest in a pair of hiking boots off the sale rack for the sake of a surprise roadtrip to a few major National Parks. After all the time spent planning, booking lodging, and researching, you discovered your relationship was not quite as monogamous as you originally thought.

Unfortunately, their betrayal was revealed a bit too close to this trip. Deposits were nonrefundable, and heartbreak made you willing to entertain the delusional part of your brain you usually ignored. You convinced yourself you could do this week-long roadtrip solo, and so you did.

What you didn’t quite factor in was the reality of your winter-weather driving prowess. While your partner grew up in a cold climate such as this, you didn’t even own a winter jacket before this trip.

Unfortunately, that winter parka you thrifted was not as warm as it looked. You were soaked to the bone. Numb except for where your face burned as snow and ice pelted your exposed cheeks. So cold that when your boot snagged something hard beneath the snow you barely felt until you were falling face first into a deep snow bank. As the snow gave way to your weight and cut you off from the howling wind, the world grew much quieter. You took shaky breaths, trying to bring yourself back to reality. Think of a new plan. Find some help even though you drove for hours without seeing a single other soul on your route.

That realization furthered the dread pooling in your belly. Maybe you were as doomed as you feel. Who in their right mind would be out traveling in this weather?

_ _ _

“Maybe we should turn around?” Rain muttered, glancing out the window of the van with mild unease.

“A little late for that,” Dew grunted from the middle seat. He leaned forward, popping his head between the driver seat where Mountain was doing his best at navigating through the white-out and the passenger seat where Swiss was white-knuckling the safety handle. “How you doin’ Mountain?”

The drummer sighed. “Were almost there… I think.”

“You think?” Swiss groaned. “I shoulda gone with the girls.”

“The party poopers?” Phantom poked between Dew and Swiss.

“The ones with some fucking sense to leave early when we got the blizzard report,” the multi-ghoul said, swatting Phantom back to his seat.

“We’ll make it,” Mountain reassured. “There’s some lights up—”

“Wait, what the fuck is that?” Swiss interrupted, pointing out his window.

“What is—”

“Shit. Shit, stop the car,” his seatbelt was unbuckled and he was flying out of the car before Mountain could make a full stop. Dewdrop followed the frantic ghoul until he realized what Swiss had seen. He swore, hitting Phantom on the thigh to let him out too.

In the sea of fresh powder was a blob of red with a small dusting of snow starting to gather atop it. As the ghouls came upon the the blob it became apparent it was the figure of a human lying face down. Swiss knelt at her side, rolling her into his lap and covering her ice cold cheeks with his hands. Her eyes were closed, but there was a steady rise and fall of her chest that made the tension in both of their shoulders release.

“They’re breathing,” he said, gathering them in his arms and looking up at Dew. “Help me get them to the van.”

continue reading

_ _ _

this is part of the first chapter of my ongoing fic. it was meant to be a one-shot, but as of right now it's 5 chapters and 17k words with more on the way... so if you like ghoul shenanigans, mutual pining (with tropes!), and a little slow burn to the eventual spice, feel free to check it out on AO3 :)

[petrichorca]

Stede and Ed hanging out in the snow on an ice ship. @y2jenn made this beautiful piece for @veeagainsttheday's and my post-apocalyptic ice piracy AU/climate change fic Runaway Effects. Go give Jenn some love because she's the best and I stare at this art all the time!! Also our fic is rated E for Explicit because, well, obviously they do more than just cuddle for warmth. ;)

[anngie27]

An Elorcan fic I wrote - Elide risks her life and nearly drowns, Lorcan comforts her. I haven’t read the books in years, so the setting isn’t very detailed. Why is there an amulet? Where did it come from? idfk. There just is! ok ilysm and enjoy

I care about you.

“Lorcan, behind you!” Elide called out to him, warning him of the Valg posed to strike him in the back. Elide and Lorcan had just been ambushed by Valg, having tracked their scent as they left town. elide fought with one hand, clutched the stolen amulet in her other. she grunted, having been backed up against the wall of an old well by one of the Valg in front of her. she swung for its meaty hand with her axe, grappling for her amulet. the swing threw her off balance and she fell forward as the amulet flew out of her clutching grasp.

“No!“ she gasped.

“Elide-“ Lorcan warned, but the rest of his sentence was lost to the ringing in her ears as she threw off her jacket and dove headfirst into the well.

The icy water shocked her, her eyes burning as she forced them open against the cold.

She immediately begun kicking, trying to navigate the well while searching for the sinking amulet. She needed to focus. Gods, if she couldn’t retrieve the amulet-

There.

She saw a glimmer of gold, and vigorously kicked towards it.

her legs were burning, burning, burning.

She had barely clutched the end of the chain as she deftly turned around and kicked for the surface. Her ears felt like they were bursting, she realized she must not have noticed the pressure on the way down.

Pushing through the fire in her limbs, she continued to fight for air. As her lungs began to burn, her chest felt as if it were ablaze.

Despairingly, she realized despite her efforts she wasn’t making any headway.

Something was weighing her down.

She managed to kick off her boots and felt her numb feet in the icy water.

Elide had sunk so deep in the well, there was scarcely any light, save for the shrinking pinprick of light from above

A strangled sob escaped her throat, and she had to fight to keep from inhaling a lung full of frozen water.

As her panic intensified, she managed to shimmy out of her heavy skirt and felt herself start to float towards the surface.

She kicked, and thrashed towards that light.

Her chest and longs contracted, letting her know she would be breathing water soon if she didn’t reach the surface soon.

She couldn’t even feel her hands and legs as they thrashed, and coughed out the rest of her air.

Elide choked on that icy water, Panic set deep in her bones.

She wasn’t going to make it, never to reach that light with her amulet, and all the people she loved, and her queen whom she owed, and Lorcan-

A dark form appeared above her in the water, obstructing the light.

It swam proficiently towards her, and as it grabbed so gently but desperately around her waist, she realized the dark mass before her pulling them up was Lorcan.

She tried to help him, not wanting to weigh him down and prove she really was a burden after all, but she couldn’t focus past the water filling her lungs.

And then suddenly, they broke the surface of the well. Glorious, glorious air filled her lungs, and she gulped down mouthful after greedy mouthful. Still coughing up frozen water, she recognized in the back of her mind Lorcan was pulling them up onto dry land, but she couldn’t muster the energy to think of anything but air.

“I- I got the amulet,” Elide managed between sputtering up water.

“The amulet, I have it. I got it.�� She repeated, weakly lifting her arm to show him the slick necklace.

“I got it. I got it.” She repeated again to herself, like a mantra.

“Shhhh,” Lorcan murmured at her.”

Suddenly she came to herself, her shivering on the ground beside the well, soaked and wearing only her shirt. Her hands shook as she tried to sit herself up.

Failing, she found hot tracks of tears running from her eyes.

A strangled sob escaped her chest, As reality set in of what almost happened to her.

“Oh, Elide,” Lorcan murmured at her as he pulled her into his arms.

She shooks, sobs wracking her frame as she tried desperately to calm herself.

His strong arms rubbed gentle circles across her back, Whispering comforts in her ear.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.

I got you.” He repeated those three words over, and over, as he clutched her so tight she thought he may never let her go. Elide leaned back in his embrace, embarrassed at her outburst. Lorcan reached out to cup her face with both hands.

Warm.

Gods, his hands were so warm. She allowed her eyes to flutter shut as she leaned her icy face into his touch.

“Gods, Elide, you’re freezing.” Lorcan voice filled with concern, concern for her.

“I’m alright,” She reassured him.

His black eyes met hers, a furrow between his brows as he searched her face.

“Elide, what were you thinking? You almost drowned.” He muttered, Concern replaced by anger. She knew that anger wasn’t directed at her.

“I needed to get the amulet.” She said, “I panicked, okay? it was dangerous. I get it. I’m sorry,” She said, not really all that sorry.

“I don’t care about some damned amulet,” He growled.

“I care about-“

He left the last word of that sentence hanging in the air between them.

I care about you.

He pulled her close resting their foreheads together. Their eyes met, And she could hear the chattering of her own teeth.

“I know”, She whispered.

He leaned back, taking her all in, eyes roving her body for injuries.

Suddenly she became painfully aware of her soaked clothes - or lack thereof.

Heat spread across her cheeks, her embarrassment at being so vulnerable visceral in the air.

“Gods, Elide, you’re freezing.” He took her trembling hand in his and rubbed warmth back into her frozen fingers. Not even appearing to notice her embarrassment, he pulled her tight against his chest.

Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, she went limp in his arms, allowing him to continue his ministrations as he massaged

warmth back into her hands and arms.

He felt so good, heat radiating from his body.

“It must be nice never getting cold,” She joked weakly.

Lorcan huffed out a laugh, pulling her tighter against his chest.

They lay like that for a while, her regaining her warmth as he held her and stroked her head, her back, her arm.

She sighed, knowing at some pint they would have to get up, get back on the road and find her new clothes and boots.

But for now, She reveled in him. His heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest beneath her head, His lips pressing an ever-so-gentle kiss on her forehead.

[warmblanketwhump]

Hi! Can you write something where caretaker won't pick up whumpee from school (because they're working at home) but it starts to rain, and whumpee walks in dreanched and cold, and caretaker feels super guilty for making them walk home? Thank you!!

absolutely!! here you go! 

———————

“B, I’ve got a million fires to put out with work right now. Can’t you find another way home this one time?” Somehow B always managed to pick A’s busiest days when they wanted a ride home from campus, and after weeks of little trips back and forth, A wasn’t in the mood for another disruption today. 

“But it’s so far! And one of my classmates said it was going to rain!” 

A pulls the glasses from their face and pinches the bridge of their nose. “B, I need to focus on work right now, okay? Either wait on campus a couple extra hours until I can be free, or find another way back. Maybe the bus? Or a ride with a friend?”

“Fine.” B sighs dejectedly. 

“Hey. We agreed that this would happen. My job is important—”

“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t have asked.” B’s tone is sharper, more clipped now, and A winces.

“Hey, I’ll see you lat—”

The phone beeps as B hangs up without a goodbye, and A feels a twinge of guilt. They probably deserved that—it would only be a 20 minute drive for them, tops. It just wasn’t convenient right now, what with all the projects they were juggling right now.  

And as much as they loved B, they could be a bit…delicate when it came to being outdoors. And they were just so behind on work, and they’d hoped to catch up on a few things before the end of the week…

A shakes any lingering doubts out of their head. B would be fine. And back to work they go. 

A’s so deeply focused that they don’t move from their spot until they hear the click of the door and the squelching of wet shoes, over an hour and a half later. At that sound, A bounds out of the office, fully prepared to ask B about their day. But when they reach the entryway, they’re greeted by a pitiful sight that sends a jolt of guilt through their gut.

B is absolutely drenched, hair plastered to their forehead, clothes clinging to every angle of their body. They’re sniffling as they turn and lock the door, then work on peeling their sopping wet jacket off, but their hands are shaking so badly that they fumble with the wet fabric. Once they hang it on the hall tree, they hug their arms close to their body, trying to conserve what little body heat the rain didn’t leach out of them.

“B, you’re soaked.“ A’s jaw drops in shock.

“I’m f-f-fine,” they force through chattering teeth, and A can see that their wet skin is covered in goosebumps. “J-just w-wet.” A shudder ripples through them. “And c-cold.”

“...why didn’t you wait?”

B shrugs. “F-figured I c-could b-beat th-the rain. D-didn’t.” 

“Let me help you dry off and—”

“Go b-back t-t-to work. I j-just want a hot sh-shower.” Without another word, B pushes past A to head to the bathroom. Guilt pools in A’s stomach. Had their work really been that important?

They hear the creak and the whine of the shower starting, so A tries to go back to work. But they can’t focus, constantly listening for B’s footsteps or a glimpse of B coming back to the living room. Even as they respond to emails, A feels the pit in their stomach deepen. 

Finally, they can’t take the waiting anymore. It’s almost dinner time, anyways, and B’s got to want something to eat. With a few clicks, they log out of their work computer and head to B’s bedroom. There, they spot a blanket-buried lump on the bed, covered with an extra quilt.

“B? Any thoughts on what you want for dinner?”

“Not hungry.” A small voice comes from the blanket lump.

“Why don’t you at least come down with me and tell me how your day was?”

“Later.”

“B, come on. Talk to me. I’m sorry for—“

“A, I’m so cold.” There’s no bitterness in their tone—just sheer, pleading desperation, and alarm bells ring in A’s head as they rush to B’s side. 

Up close, A can see that B’s hugging themselves tightly under the covers, shivering all over. When A grabs B’s hand, it’s ice cold in their own. A feels like they’ve been punched in the stomach. 

“B, you’re frozen.” A gently rubs their arms and back through the blankets, pressing a hand to B’s damp forehead.  They frantically scan the room, spotting another old throw blanket, which they hastily grab and tuck around B’s body. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt this bad?”

“You were busy.” Another shudder rattles their teeth, and A can see them weakly rubbing their arms.

It isn’t possible for A to feel any smaller. “Look, B, what I said earlier…I’m sorry. I should’ve gotten you.”

B just shrugs. “It’s fine.”

But it’s not fine, and A doesn’t know how to make that any clearer to B. With a knot in their stomach, A mentally clears their entire evening schedule, brushes away the looming projects and deadlines. Projects be damned—they owe B this much and more. 

“Well, I’m not busy now.” A forces a smile, smoothing a still-damp curl off of B’s forehead. “Will you let me help and make it up to you?” 

B nods, eyes slipping shut as they pull the blankets tighter around them. “I’ll take any apology in the form of warmth.”

Within 15 minutes, B’s curled around a hot water bottle and sipping on a steaming mug of broth, which A holds to their lips so they can stay bundled. Once the mug is drained, B slips back to laying down, their eyes staring longingly at A. 

“What is it? What do you need?” A lays a gentle hand on their shoulder.

“Can you…do you have time to stay here for a bit? With me?”

A slips under the covers, drawing them in a hug. “Of course I do. Try and get some sleep, okay?” 

B nods, and closes their eyes, and within minutes their breath has evened out into an uneasy sleep. A breathes a sign of relief. They’ll just close their eyes for a moment…

….and when they open them, they’ve got a sore neck and B’s head pillowed against their stomach. It’s pitch dark outside, the rain still pattering on the leaves, and a low rumble of thunder pierces the air. B stirs, moaning softly and blinking their tired eyes open.

“B? How are you feeling?”

“Awful.” B’s still buried in all the layers, dark smudges of bruises under their eyes. “Do you think I could stay home from class tomorrow?” Their voice is weak and crackly, and they cough into the blankets. 

“Of course, love.” A gently threads their fingers through B’s hair, massaging small circles on their scalp. “Still cold?”

B shakes their head. “I’d rather miss class than go out in the rain again.” They shudder weakly, tugging the covers up to their ears and pressing closer to A. “It’s like the cold’s coming from inside me.” 

A’s heart twists. The poor thing really did get chilled to the bone, and they sound on their way to a nasty cold, too. They hug B closer, tracing long, wide circles on their back. “Then we’ll both have to stay in bed where it’s warm, won’t we?

A feels B’s arms tighten around their waist in a weak hug, and thats enough to make them start mentally composing their out of office email.

[pinkyberet]

Warmth Huddle

Luigi Went Out In The Snow To Get Something That Mario Was Going To Get (Which He Didn’t Cause He Was Napping). Now Luigi’s Back Shivering & Shaking From The Coldness. Thankfully Somebody Is Still Pretty Warm Despite The Obvious Cold Weather :3

[whumpster-dumpster]

best kind of whump is when whumpee is super frikin cold. and then theyre clinging to their caretaker for warmth, and the caretaker is horrified by how cold they are...thats my everything fr

When they're shivering so hard that they're shaking the caretaker too as they hold them 🥺

[whumpygifs]

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #984

The ‘there’s only one bed’ trope but whump.

Two characters collapsing onto the mattress - uncaring of their attire/the blankets that are still tucked in. 

The caretaker laying on a backpack as a pillow to get some sleep, while the whumpee is passed out across the mattress. 

The whumpee having no choice but to lay on the floor because the mattress is too soft/lumpy for their damaged back.

Tearing open plastic bags to protect the mattress from field surgery.

Leaving a tip for the housekeeping service as an apology for the mess. 

The caretaker hesitantly leaving for food/other necessities. 

The whole team, after rescuing the whumpee, lay on every inch of the double mattress as the whumpee doesn't want to be alone, and equally the team wants to make sure that the whumpee is okay/will pull through.

The caretaker waking up and wondering why the blanket feels damp - only to discover the whumpees stitches have been pulled/their bandage has been bled through/the whumpee failed to mention a severe injury. 

The whumpee waking everyone up from a nightmare and apologising profusely. Bonus points if this character has always done everything in their power to hide these episodes.

The whumpee anxious about sleeping around other people because of their frequent nightmares.

Huddling for warmth because the heater is broken. 

The AC is broken, and the whumpee is struggling through a fever - even the open window doesn’t help. 

Using the small soaps the hotel offers to clean up, and hissing through the sting of scented soaps on their wounds.

The whumpee asking the caretaker to stay, so they climb in next to them. 

The recently rescued whumpee having to be convinced they are safe; the caretaker does multiple sweeps of the room. Eventually they compromise by having the whumpee tucked into the caretakers side, and sleeping with the lights on. 

[midwinterspringwrites]

in windless cold that is the heart's heat

Rated T

Darklina

There was something ominous and expectant in the air tonight. Something tugged at Alina's awareness, and she half expected the stag to appear in the woods, glowing in the moonlight like in her dreams.

Instead, she felt a phantom pain in her belly, and Aleksander stumbled into the clearing.

Written for Zzofiaa for the @darklinaserver Secret Sankta Exchange.

Moodboard by me.

Read on AO3.