Summary: Walter is a bear. Sometimes he’s a grumpy bear, sometimes he’s a soft fuzzy bear.
Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader
Word Count: 446
Warnings: brief mentions of nudity. All fluff.
A/N: this isn’t long but I wanted to write this for @christhickevans She was nice enough to to send me a fic title for the “made up fic title” post I made (feel free to send more!)
Disclaimer: Do not copy any part of my material to use as your own. Do not repost my work, or any portions of my work on any site and claim it as your own. Like all my other stories, this was written on my phone and not beta’d.
Here you go sweetheart. Hope you enjoy.
***
You're sitting up in your favorite spot on the couch watching the show you’d been excited to start all week. Your feet are propped up in front of you; you’re buried under the big fuzzy blanket from your bedroom. You can hear the shower running down the hall. Walter had just gotten home from work not even half an hour ago. All he had said to you was a low rumble so you had given the gruff bear his space.
You didn’t hear the water cut off 20 minutes later, you were too involved in your show. But nothing could keep you from noticing him walk out of the bathroom into the hallway completely naked. You watched him as he walked into the kitchen. Every sinew in legs flexing as he walked. The way his ass flexed and bounced a little as he stepped.
Michelangelo would have been so lucky to have sculpted Walter. “David eat your heart out.” You mumbled as he leaned into the fridge hunting for a beer. One hand on the top of the door, arm bent making his elbow point upward, the tendons in his back rippled with the movement of his other arm reaching into the back of the refrigerator. He stood, closed the door, then turned around. He popped the tab on his can. You watched the ways his arms responded to his hands. Bringing the can up to his lips he tilted his head back, drinking about half the can in three gulps.
Of course, as any man would, he burped loudly. Take it as a bears thank you, perhaps? He finally noticed you watching him. He stalked over to where you were so warm and cozy on the couch. He pulled back your blanket, looking you up and down, tilting his head. You were wearing an old worn out hoodie and thin pajama pants.
Working his way under the cover, he laid his head down on your chest. He wiggled, grunted grumpily and sat up. “Off.” Was all he said. You compiled, hoping he didn’t mind the thin camisole you were wearing underneath. He looked you over, making a soft, considering ‘hmm’ then lying his head on your chest, cupping your right breast like a security blanket.
Some time later your show went off. You muted the tv so you could listen to his soft breathing. The sounds this fuzzy bear would make in his sleep were like white noise to you. The rest of his noises were like lyrics to your life now. You knew all of his sounds, and their meanings by heart.
“Who’s David?” You startled, but laughed, running your fingers through his hair.
