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femslashficlets2019-08-25 03:03 pm
ilthit) wrote in femslashficlets2019-08-25 03:03 pm
Entry tags:
[223 Cool] Cold Skin (Stand Still Stay Silent)
Title: Cold Skin
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairings: Sigrun Eide/Tuuri Hotakainen
Rating: Teen
Words: 428
Notes: AU, post-underworld rescue.
“I don’t like this,” said Sigrun, frowning, and rubbed Tuuri’s cold hands. She wanted to dig her thumbs in them to find some human warmth, to see if Tuuri still felt anything at all.
“It’s all right,” said Tuuri, yawning and pulling at her hands, but Sigrun wouldn’t let them go. “Really, I feel fine.”
“That’s what they all say before they lay down and never get up again.” She glared the little Finn down, but Tuuri only yawned again. “That’s it. Off with the clothes.”
“Hmh?”
Sigrun twisted towards the front of the tank. “Mikkel! Tuuri and I are going to bed. Just keep driving like a seventy-year-old farmer so we won’t roll off.”
Mikkel waved a hand from the front as a noncommittal acknowledgment. Sigrun wasn’t sure why she bothered even giving him any orders. After a little shuffling—Reynir had to be kicked out of the bunk room just in case any infection lingered in Tuuri, even though they were all fairly sure the Illness didn’t survive a trip to the land of the dead, and Emil vacated willingly once he caught a flash of Sigrun’s tits—the two women curled up together on a top bunk. It was like hugging a malleable, soft block of ice.
“Don’t go to sleep,” said Sigrun in her softest voice.
“Mmm. You feel nice.” There was a small smile on Tuuri’s face, but her eyes were fluttering closed.
Sigrun pinched her. “What did I say, Fuzzy? I said don’t.”
“Sorry...”
“God damn it,” Sigrun hissed and rubbed Tuuri’s arms. “You’re alive. We saved you. Or Twig and Ginger and your brother did. You don’t get to die all over again just because your stupid Finnish afterlife had you sleeping under the ice. The moment you’re better, you are converting.”
Tuuri giggled and shifted, wrapping a leg around Sigrun. It rested comfortable against the dip of her hip. “I don’t think it works that way.”
“It does if I say so. We will feast together in Valhalla. You’re small but scrappy, you’ll make it. I just have to teach you a little swordplay. It’s easy once you get the hang of it.”
“Mmm.” This time, however, the intonation sounded a little more alive. “You know, I think I like being alive again.” Sigrun felt a cold hand wander up her side and onto her breast and shuddered. Her flesh responded in multiple ways at once.
“Short stuff,” Sigrun groaned. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I have some ideas,” Tuuri whispered.
God, it was good to have her back.
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairings: Sigrun Eide/Tuuri Hotakainen
Rating: Teen
Words: 428
Notes: AU, post-underworld rescue.
“I don’t like this,” said Sigrun, frowning, and rubbed Tuuri’s cold hands. She wanted to dig her thumbs in them to find some human warmth, to see if Tuuri still felt anything at all.
“It’s all right,” said Tuuri, yawning and pulling at her hands, but Sigrun wouldn’t let them go. “Really, I feel fine.”
“That’s what they all say before they lay down and never get up again.” She glared the little Finn down, but Tuuri only yawned again. “That’s it. Off with the clothes.”
“Hmh?”
Sigrun twisted towards the front of the tank. “Mikkel! Tuuri and I are going to bed. Just keep driving like a seventy-year-old farmer so we won’t roll off.”
Mikkel waved a hand from the front as a noncommittal acknowledgment. Sigrun wasn’t sure why she bothered even giving him any orders. After a little shuffling—Reynir had to be kicked out of the bunk room just in case any infection lingered in Tuuri, even though they were all fairly sure the Illness didn’t survive a trip to the land of the dead, and Emil vacated willingly once he caught a flash of Sigrun’s tits—the two women curled up together on a top bunk. It was like hugging a malleable, soft block of ice.
“Don’t go to sleep,” said Sigrun in her softest voice.
“Mmm. You feel nice.” There was a small smile on Tuuri’s face, but her eyes were fluttering closed.
Sigrun pinched her. “What did I say, Fuzzy? I said don’t.”
“Sorry...”
“God damn it,” Sigrun hissed and rubbed Tuuri’s arms. “You’re alive. We saved you. Or Twig and Ginger and your brother did. You don’t get to die all over again just because your stupid Finnish afterlife had you sleeping under the ice. The moment you’re better, you are converting.”
Tuuri giggled and shifted, wrapping a leg around Sigrun. It rested comfortable against the dip of her hip. “I don’t think it works that way.”
“It does if I say so. We will feast together in Valhalla. You’re small but scrappy, you’ll make it. I just have to teach you a little swordplay. It’s easy once you get the hang of it.”
“Mmm.” This time, however, the intonation sounded a little more alive. “You know, I think I like being alive again.” Sigrun felt a cold hand wander up her side and onto her breast and shuddered. Her flesh responded in multiple ways at once.
“Short stuff,” Sigrun groaned. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I have some ideas,” Tuuri whispered.
God, it was good to have her back.