Chief Swan Oneshots & Imagines

Nights Like This

Dark clouds begin to roll in, the smell of moisture settling in the air as the setting sun begins to disappear just beyond the tree line. The hum of your vehicle gives out as you park in front of the small house you seemed to find yourself visiting more and more often. The lawn freshly cut, scent of pine trees in the air. White paint began to erode on the side of the porch—something you'd make a note of bringing up later.

"Hey there." Charlie is already at the door by the time you bring your hand up to knock, "Thanks for stopping by."

"Figured you'd want to hang out with some great company. Plus we could always kill this," you offer a smile, holding up the goods in your arm.

"Just what I need."

Responding with a chuckle you let yourself in immediately heading over to the kitchen. "Work still kicking your ass?" You ask, reaching into the brown paper bag to pull out a bottle of red wine.

"Always," he sighs before joining you by the counter.

You open the cabinets in search for two wine glasses. "Same here," you say as you hand one to him. Charlie gives you a smile before corkscrewing the bottle open with ease. You follow him to the dining room table, bottle in hand.

"Wanna order pizza?"

. . .

Charlie slipped away for a mere five minute bathroom break. And in that time you had managed to steal his couch; empty glass abandoned on the end table beside you. Pizza boxes scatter the dining room table along with a near empty bottle of wine. He returns to find you curled up—pillow hugged tight to your chest.

"Hey," he shakes his head, "You dozing off on me?"

You let out a soft moan, "Mm-mhn..."

Charlie tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Let's get you to bed," he whispers before bending down.

"I'm not tired—" you begin to whine, holding back a yawn.

He lets out a chuckle before scooping you into his arms.

"You're so handsome Charlie," you mumble, looking up into his chocolate eyes.

"Okay now I know you've had too much to drink."

"Always so grumpy..." you sigh into his chest, "Can't even take a compliment."

Charlie grumbles and you aren't quite sure whether it's at your words or it's just because his back is beginning to hurt from carrying you up the steps.

"Grumpy old man—" you tease, "—but that's just one of the things I like about you."

Charlie stays silent as he makes his way to the bedroom. Your arms are still linked around his neck as he tries to put you down on the bed—and to his discontent you do not budge. Even as he tries his hardest to peel you off of him.

"Stay," you plead, reaching out to him.

He stills for a second, genuinely deliberating. And much as Charlie knows the responsible thing to do is to say no he just can't resist. Especially when you're pulling him down onto you.

Your eyes are closed by the time your head hits the pillow, arms wrapped tight around his torso. He feels so warm against you and you can't help but to sigh at his scent. You know in the morning you're going to wake up so embarrassed with yourself but for now you just

can't

care.