Bites Fist Sophie Stop Making More Wips When Ur Already Drowning In Them - Tumblr Posts

imagine an au where you wake up to a chill seeping through the comfort of your duvet. it's a little unusual. the mornings shouldn't be so cold anymore; did you maybe leave the window open?

a headache blooms along your conscience, and you think that maybe you had one too many drinks out of frustration last night. but, then again, it's not your fault that prickly bastard got on your nerves and made you drink till you passed out. he just has it out for you!

bare arms are draped over your equally bare midriff, its hold around you tightening and— wait. you're NAKED?!

by the speed at which you flipped to your other side, you wouldn't be surprised if you got whiplash. actually, scrap that. maybe the familiar face lying beside you, alongside the marks you barely caught a glimpse of amidst your turn, is more than enough to wish you actually did get it.

"mmh, what's wrong?" he mumbles in all his sleepy glory, clearly disoriented from your sudden movement. a hand rubs against his heavy lids in a feeble attempt to clear out the bleary fog which clings to his vision, one in which blocks the sight of you by default. "you're never up before me in these mornings."

...how did you end up in the bed of your arch-nemesis (self-proclaimed), naked, and— why is he staring at you so affectionately? weren't you just at each other's throats a few hours ago? (figuratively or literally, it doesn't matter. you were at each other's throats all the same.)

(or, you somehow find yourself three years into the future, married to the very same prickly bastard who made you black-out drunk (self-inflicted). and naked (not self-inflicted. probably).)