#the day i learnt some of my closest friends see NOTHING when they read
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afantasyoffiction · 7 days ago
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this is so interesting bc same!!!
one day when i’m famous and have a better sample size i want to poll this…
do all writers work this way? does everyone who thinks this way write?? how do people experience this differently with poetry, with prose, with dialogue, with descriptions?
is it literally just you’re a writer if you’re blessed/cursed with The Visions?!! or are there writers somehow managing to create art with words alone…
hi max :)
this is a little based off my response to ur last ask but now i’m curious…how do you see your stories in your head?
is it words that come to you while you write? or a movie in your mind? audio? do you see anything at all when you read, or just understand the words.
i’m so eternally curious knowing that different people process the same media in completely different mediums
'movies' and audio are usually the most common. i can see my stories play out in my head and hear my characters speak; i know what their voices sound like. i see stories when i read. my brain just works in images.
the images in my head are also frequently accompanied by prose. my mind just starts saying stuff and i'm like oh, oh ok. (it's rare but not impossible for prose to appear on its own.)
thanks for the ask!!
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russellbby · 19 days ago
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Jealously doesn’t look good on you🙄
parings: f1 grid x fem!mercedes f1 driver!reader
in which: the young driver seems to get on very well with the younger drivers and jealousy starts to get to the rest of the grid..
requested: yes, by anonymous: Heyy, can I request something where the reader is the youngest f1 driver and is very closed off and don't talk much to any of the drivers, however when the younger drivers are around (kimi, ollie etc) she doesn't stop talking to them and the grid can't help but get jealous of her relationship with the younger drivers. thank uuu :))
a/n: I’m back guys!! This request has been sitting in my inbox for I don’t know how long. Hope you like it and start sending me in more requests! :)
//
Y/n, a young talent, record breaker, the youngest on the grid and the paddock princess. However, despite how much the grid loves and cares for her, they don’t know a single thing about her.
The young mercedes driver was entering the paddock, smiling and waving at the cameras before making her way over to fans to sign things and take photos before she made her way into the garage.
“The fans know more about her than us,” Lando mumbled as he had watched her interaction with the fans.
“Y/n has always been like this especially in formula 2, she would only talk on the radio and interviews” Oscar added.
“She’s just shy, don’t like talking and prefer to be alone. I learnt that the hard way when she became my teammate” George said.
“I just wish she would open up to us, it’s like her whole life is a mystery to us” Charles added.
//
Later, a few of the drivers had gathered in the lounge before the start of a busy weekend. During these times, Y/n is normally on her own with her headphones with a book in hand or on her phone.
This time around, she had her knees up with her book on her lap with headphones on with no care in the whole and having no intentions of joining any conversations or banter amongst the drivers.
However, her plan didn’t stay very long as she felt her headphones being taken off her head which made her look up at the certain aussie driver.
“Danny!” Y/n exclaimed as she got up and tried to get her headphones back, only for Daniel to lift them in the air, Y/n soon realised there was no point in trying.
“C’mon, you were being anti-social!” Daniel said.
“How do you even like reading?” Lando added which earned him a glare from the young driver.
“I mean he has a point, how do you find it entertaining?” Max asked.
“This shows you lot barely finished school or dropped out” Y/n told them.
“We just want to talk to you! We know nothing about your life!” Charles added.
“There’s nothing too exciting that happened, just a normal childhood!” Y/n said before she got ahold of her headphones and went back to the same position before the drivers interrupted her.
“One day, we will get something out of her” Pierre said.
//
The morning passed, Y/n was just talking to her engineers as FP1 had just finished and were gathering information in preparation for FP2.
Y/n knew that F2 was going on this weekend, she was hoping to be able to see some of her closest friends and her wishes were fulfilled when she looked outside her garage.
She saw Ollie, Kimi and Paul chatting outside, this made her face light up with a smile, which was rare for her and she knew her team were watching her, but she didn’t care.
"Guys!!" she called out, jogging over to them.
"Y/n!" Kimi opened his arms as the young girl launched into a hug. The pair laughed as they pulled apart, before Y/n hugged Ollie and Paul.
The four started talking continuously about anything and everything and laughing, which caught the attention of the grid.
“It’s like she’s two different people,” Lando said as he nudged Oscar pointing over to the scene.
“That’s Y/n for you” Oscar replied.
//
“Y/n!” Daniel called as he made his way over to where she was sitting down on a table outside the mercedes hospitality. Soon enough, Daniel wasn’t the only drivers who joined her.
“What’s this? A gathering?” Y/n asked.
“You with Ollie, Kimi & Paul?!” Charles said.
“What about it? We are best friends, we are all practically family” Y/n replied confused.
“So they know everything about you?!” Pierre added.
“Well, duh!” Y/n told them.
“You are like a completely different person when you’re with them compared to us!” Max added.
“Didn’t realise that there was a drivers meeting outside the Mercedes hospitality” Kimi joked as he walked over with Ollie and Paul.
“They are saying I’m different person with you lot compared to them” Y/n mumbled.
“Well, they ain’t wrong!” Paul said.
“I’m going to tell your mum you still haven’t opened up to anyone but us,” Kimi joked.
“Don’t blame me if you don’t get invited over to our annual barbecue!” Y/n replied.
“Your parents love me too much to not invite me over, I’m their favourite!” Kimi added.
“We will be stealing Y/n until FP2! See you all later!” Ollie told them as he an Paul became a barrier for Y/n and Kimi.
“What the f*ck just happened?” Lando said.
“That’s one way of putting it..” Daniel replied.
“Maybe we should of just accepted it at the beginning..” Charles mumbled.
//
Throughout the rest of the day and weekend, the drivers stared down the 3 young drivers who made Y/n smile and laugh continuously.
And from that day on, the grid accepted that they were never going to find out anything about Y/n. Despite it all, they still continue to try and get stuff out of her, which leads to nothing.
They were really jealous of Ollie, Kimi and Paul.
However, they learnt the hard way that jealously doesn’t look good on them..
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misstictart · 9 days ago
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Part 2 of the answers! Aaand we'll only have one question this time because question 12 is a big one to tackle. (Realizing my first art of the year is depressing. Oopsie. Next one will be softer, promy!)
Part 1 Part 2 - You're here! Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
(Under a read-more for mental abuse mention)
12 – What are your OC's demons? Are they open about it, or do they prefer to bottle it up?
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Oh. She's a mess. She'll be fine but she's a mess.
Not really on her part- if you look at her, she always does her best to pay the bills, to make sure her translation requests are delivered in due time, and that no one gets hurt in the school library! Going to work and seeing friends with a smile! A... strained smile and... dark rings- does she get any sleep...?
It's more past and personal issues that affected her in the long run. Once she and her father moved to Texas, she was (barely) home schooled and he trained her so she'd be ready to join the armed forces (the jerk always wanted a son, and now that he was stuck with a loud and smart daughter, the only way she'd meet his expectations was for her to serve in the forces just like he and his family always did). But she realized later on that perhaps she didn't want to do that, and failed the entry on purpose. Cue a period during which she was sent to nursing school instead to be "useful to the nation" - but from this time on Claryce was nothing else but wasted potential to his eyes. Even if she ended up studying in one of the best schools of Paris!
What about the nursing school, you say? Well, once again, when a father forces his daughter down a career that's not her calling, she ends up with a nasty burnout. This was a turning point for Claryce as she finally built the courage to call her mother for help (until then, her father kept telling her she was too busy with the Italian Mob to care about her). Giulietta D'Amico immediately left the Mafia to support her daughter (both mentally and financially).
All of this brought Claryce anxiety and depression issues she still battles with as the days go. She has been to therapy more than once for this, and she still can rely on one should she need it- but it's quite expensive (thank you USA healthcare!) so she tries to rely on what she has learnt from the sessions she has had so far.
After all, she had moved back to Springfield to start fresh! But then other worries spawned, such as the stress from living on her own or her place in the D'Amico family (was she born to become a criminal, too? Does she have a choice in this? Would they still love her even if she were to be just a regular goodie-two shoes? Was she a good person to begin with?). All of this topped with her concerns regarding her romantic feelings and, unfortunately, her parents moving back to Springfield as well, stirring back some unpleasant memories.
Mix the whole thing together and you get a nasty cocktail called self-hatred! 🎉 But as I said, she did go to therapy, and thanks heavens, because this gal is a champion at bottling up things! Fortunately, she'll quickly figure out that she'll always be loved by the D'Amicos, no matter what- and that she can always trust her closest friends - Sideshow Bob in particular, who turns out to be a great listener whenever he's spending time at her place. (He appreciates helping out- she's one of the few people who won't interrupt him when he goes on his own rambles, so it's only natural for him to return the favor.)
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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago
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Stranger In The Crowd
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having recently ended the process of moving, Y/N is rightfully very tired but also very excited for the new chapter of her life. Funnily enough, this new chapter includes a newly formed long distance friendship/crush with a very special person from San Diego.
Requested by @boiled-onionrings Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long for it to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ��
I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to finally be at home after such a long day of standing around in the Georgia heat with only a thin layer of fabric to protect my eyes and head from the scorching sun. Yeah, anyone who says that tent did well at protecting everyone under it today is nothing but a liar. I was in a short, strapless white summer dress, the fabric of which barely had any weight and consistency to provide heat of its own yet I still damn near melted. Ok, I’ll admit, some of the roasting heat probably came from the energy and force I put into singing the songs of my band’s new album ‘Starting At The End’. 
The mini concert we held in this large open field was meant as an introduction to the city of Savannah where all the band members - myself included - are actually from but we all moved to the West Coast to pursue our music career. And now that we’ve grown, and the majority of us are married, one of us is a father now as well, we’ve decided to return to our hometown. The decision was so spontaneous and was executed so quickly due to no one objecting to it that it still hasn’t me that I’m no longer in LA. The heat isn’t helping my ‘processing’ process but I’ll get to it eventually. Do I miss LA though? Not sure I do - I think I more miss the people I was closer to while I was there.
Suddenly, as if perfectly timed, my phone dings, notifying me that I’ve received a message. I don’t have to look to know it’s from - there’s only one person I actively text and his name is....
C ~ Your virtual buddy Corpse here, making sure you didn’t die of a heatstroke today. If you did indeed survive, just reply to this message, if not....don’t do anything, I guess.
I can’t help but giggle at the sight of the message. I promised Corpse I’d text him after the concert to let him know I was ok, but the even dragged out for longer than anticipated so I’m guessing he got worried.
How cute.
Me ~ Alive and well, but I do feel like a popped tire of an overloaded truck. Hope that’s a visually appealing description
Corpse and I met on the charity livestream Jacksepticeye organized and invited our band to so we could play Among Us with some of the best gamers and streamers on the internet. It was a huge honor and a ton of fun, definitely an event I’d like to repeat in the near future because I had such a good time and I know all my bandmates did too. We all got acquainted and even became official friends with the gamers that were practically our hosts, Corpse becoming the closest friends I’d earn. That livestream happened months ago and we still text just as consistently.
C ~ Oh I know EXACTLY what you mean. Anyway, as to not exhaust you further to force you into typing, how about you send me pictures to sum up your thoughts and emotions and plans for the evening
This is OUR THING trademark, mine and Corpse’s and no one can take it away from us. It’s a significant element of our friendship that enables us both to understand one another when one of us feels the way I described in my message - a popped tire or a deflated balloon. I’m usually the exhausted one - blame the many shows we do and the many meet-and-greets we organize for our lovely fans. It’s the type of exhaustion none of the band members mind at all, but we definitely need some time to recover from it.
As I go to sit down on my couch, the flower crown I’ve been wearing slips off the top of my head, falling on the floor, creating a soft noise that attracts the attention of one of my many cats - Sasha. She’s the youngest and most curious kitty in the family, always protected by the other four - Luna, Cassie, Silver and Lynn. Those four are far lazier and a lot more disinterested in comparison to Sasha who immediately runs over to see what’s fallen.
I smile to myself, taking the flower crown and undoing it to lessen it by a few stems to make it smaller, all the while being watched by the curious Sasha whose interest is rewarded in the end when I put the now adorably tiny flower crown on her head.
While she still hasn’t shaken the thing off I manage to snap a pic which I send to Corpse who opens it mere seconds after it was delivered. 
C ~ Sasha’s pulling off your aesthetic better than you. Sorry, someone had to let you know
I burst out laughing for two reasons - 1.The message itself, damn it! It’s hilarious; 2. Corpse has learnt the name of each one of my cats and never mixes them up - not even Luna and Lynn who look almost identical. That amount of attention to detail is astonishing and very meaningful to me, it genuinely warms my heart and that may or may not be dramatic but it’s definitely not exaggerated.
Me ~ You think I haven’t caught on yet? 
C ~ Well, if it makes you feel any better you pull off my aesthetic better than I do
He’s referring to the e-girl look I did for one show the band had in downtown LA one night. I was drunk and looking forward to trying new things so I improvised the hell out of my outfit but I apparently looked presentable enough to leave a good impression on Corpse despite the pic I sent him being a bit blurry and being a mirror selfie in the bathroom of the very bar we were performing in. It goes without saying that the mirror was dirty too - had a bunch of writing on it which Corpse said only added to the aesthetic. Looking back on it now I kinda agree, and luckily so did the fans in the comments of that same photo when I posted it on Instagram.
Me ~ Means a lot actually. Nowhere near enough to aid the burn of having a cat pull off cottagecore better than I do, but still helps XD
As if sensing that we’re talking about her, Sasha hops on the couch, poking her head over my phone to look down at the screen.
Now this is gonna be golden.
I take a selfie with my phone in my lap, the camera capturing both me and Sasha at a rather unflattering angle which has me losing my mind laughing when I send the picture to Corpse who immediately sends back a string of cry-laughing emojis.
C ~ I can’t tell which one of you is cuter
Me ~ If that was a compliment, I gotta say I appreciate it greatly
C ~ Just telling the truth ;)
It’s times like these that the butterflies in my stomach remind me just why I’ve started catching feelings for this man despite all the distance between us and despite barely knowing him - he knows me more than I know him but I don’t mind it, oddly enough.
I’m fond of our connection and though I sometimes dream of something more, I’m also content with what we already have considering that ‘something more’ seems rather unattainable as of now.
My phone dings again, clearing the fog of thoughts and presenting me with a new message from Corpse.
C ~ Oh, by the way, look what I got....
That message is followed up by a picture of a ticket. A plane ticket to Georgia! 
While I’m still busy stomaching this and dealing with my quickly rising excitement, he sends another message.
C ~ I hope to catch a The Silver Rays concert while I’m there. Heard they had an adorable frontwoman ;)
My breath catches in my throat as a wide grin spreads across my face. The thought of having Corpse so close to me sends those aforementioned butterflies in my stomach into a raving mood and they practically explode my insides with excitement and joy like I’ve never felt it before. I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that we’re about to go from having an entire country between us, to being just some ways away - him in the audience and me on stage without a single clue of who to look for. That’s part of the excitement though, I guess, part of the guessing game that’s gonna make our meeting all the more interesting.
He’ll be a stranger in the crowd and I’ll be a performer on a stage - seemingly two people who have no relation whatsoever. But damn does it go beyond that: No one has to know how hard I’m falling for that stranger in the crowd.
Me ~ I’ve heard so too, can’t confirm it though
If this is gonna be a guessing game, I’ll flip the tables a bit - I won’t take any guesses. I’ll let the answer come to me. I’ll give the first move over to the stranger in the crowd, let’s see what he does.
C ~ I’ll check and let you know, don’t worry
Not worried whatsoever, Corpsie. I’m not worried at all.
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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years ago
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Personal Google
4 times Spencer knows the answer, and the 1 time he doesn’t.
Summary: Spencer is your own personal Google. He always knows the answer to anything you ask him.
Warnings: Pining, slow burn-ish (?), reader and Spencer are both idiots who aren’t acknowledging their feelings for each other. Some mentions of a case and case-typical violence. No references to the gender of the reader!
Word count: 2k (this ran away from me)
A/N: Part two to this is here!
Requests: open!!
“Hey Spence?” You call, barely looking up from your phone as you scroll through Twitter, “What’s a hedgefund?”
“Are you reading about the GameStop stock?” He asks.
“Yeah.”
He clears his throat, and you look up at him, “Okay. A hedgefund is a way for accredited investors to invest in a way that minimises the risk to their own assets. Without getting too complicated, because it can get really convoluted, it’s basically just a way for rich people to get richer a lot of the time because a prerequisite for investing in the majority is having a high net income or a high net worth to begin with.”  
You smile, “So basically rich people are getting screwed?”
“Something like that.”
“Good,” You respond, putting your phone away.
You swear you hear a little laugh escape his mouth as he turns back to the computer at his desk.
***
You’re sat on the jet, in your usual seat next to him, when everything starts to go pear-shaped. It jolts a little, sending you knocking into his side. You grimace.
“It’s just a little turbulence,” Hotch says, “Probably because of the storm coming from the East. We should be landing soon.”
Rationally, you realise there’s nothing to be afraid of. But it’s easier said than done to keep rational when the plane’s rattling like a pack of smarties and your head is bashing against Spencer’s bony shoulder every five seconds.
He senses your unease, tentatively reaching across to take hold of your hand. His instinct is to supply statistics about plane crashes but something in him tells him you won’t respond too well if he tells you the odds of getting in a small plane crash are higher than a regular commercial flight but still lower than the chances of being involved in a motor vehicle accident. Instead, he chooses a different tactic.
“It’ll be alright, we’ve been in the air for two hours and,” He squints at his watch, “Forty-three minutes. This flight’s two hours fifty-eight tops.”
You nod, “Hey Spence?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember this morning when you were telling me about the French dancing plague and we got interrupted by the call about the case?”
You don’t have to say anything more, he immediately launches into a spiel about France in 1615: the death of crops, how the people felt they were being spited by God, the whole thing. He gestures wildly with his free hand, but the hand that lies atop of yours doesn’t budge an inch. You rub small circles on it with your thumb, which goes unacknowledged. Privately, you’re a little disappointed. Privately, he’s afraid you’ll stop if he points it out.
***
It’s been a long and fruitless day. The local PD had been worse than useless, they were so reluctant to accept that anybody from their town could possibly have been responsible for what was going on that it felt like a constant battle to get anything done. You’d been out interviewing possible witnesses from the local bar. Well, trying to, you would have been a lot more successful if the Sheriff hadn’t constantly been under your feet, undermining your questions and generally resulting in making you look like an idiot.
Hotch had chewed him out in the end, relinquishing you from interview duty to help Spencer with the geographical profile back at the station. He’s scribbling away on the map while you slump in the chair, a little defeated.
“Hey Spence?”
“Hmm?” He hums in response, not taking his eyes off the section he’s just crossed out.
“How come you’re ruling out that side of town?”
He flips the whiteboard pen in his hands, returning its cap before turning around to you, “A lot of the area over there is industrial. I’ve been combing through to get a closer look, but it doesn’t look like our unsub would have the kind of privacy he needs. There are a lot of factories, granted, but they’re pretty much all occupied. He’s meticulous, I don’t think he’d take the risk of working in an environment where he couldn’t control anything and risking getting himself caught. And from what we know about him he certainly isn’t affluent enough to rent property on that side of town. Rent is almost three times as expensive there,” he gestures with his hands, tapping the lid of the pen on the area he means, “I think he’s more likely to be from the northmost part of town.”
You smile, “I don’t know how you do that.”
He opens his mouth to respond before seeing the softness in your eyes, realising you’re not asking for an explanation. You’re giving him a compliment. His chest feels a little warm.
***
You can’t sleep that night, despite how exhausting your day has been. You’d think the physical and mental exhertion would knock you out but instead you’re sat on your bed, idly flipping through TV channels. Not much is on except some old NCIS re-runs, and oddly enough you don’t feel like watching a crime show.
You could text Spencer. The thought appears in your head of its own accord, without your consent.
You could though.
10:12pm - You
You’d think after a day like today I’d be able to get some rest
10:13pm - Spencer
You can’t sleep?
10:13pm - You
No, sorry, I didn’t think you’d be asleep
10:14pm - Spencer
I can’t sleep either, don’t worry. Do you want to come over to my room? I have a documentary about Pearl Harbour I was going to watch
10:14pm - Spencer
Or we could do something else. Not sure if Pearl Harbour is more fun for you than struggling to fall asleep
10:15pm - You
A Pearl Harbour documentary sounds great
Thankfully you’d had the forethought to bring nice sleeping attire rather than your old ratty ones. You’d learnt your lesson before, when your presence had been required in the middle of the night and you’d had to scramble down to team meetings in pyjama bottoms that had a hole in the right thigh.
You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror, some anxiety fluttering in your stomach for some reason.
It’s odd. It’s hardly the first time you’ve been over to Spencer’s room for crying out loud, I mean he’s the person you’re closest to on the team and your best friend and your private yearning for him is mostly   inconsequential. Mostly. Except you fix your hair and smooth down your top a little anyway.
He’s only three doors down and it’s easy enough to slip quietly into his room. He sits on the bed, two glasses of water resting on the bedside table, his laptop resting by his knees. He’s illuminated by the bedside lamp next to him, and his hair looks fluffy as hell. No doubt from him running his own hands through it in frustration today. He smiles at you, patting the space next to him.
You pad across and join him, “Hey Spence.”
“Hi.”
His laptop isn’t particularly loud, and the screen isn’t very big, so you end up sat quite close to him. The laptop rests on his lap. You hesitate before nuzzling in against him, feeling how his breath catches in his chest as your head rests against his on the bedframe.
“Is this okay?” You ask.
“Yeah,” He answers, a small content smile playing on his lips, “Yeah this is okay.”
***
You’re not sure when or how you fell asleep but you wake up with a start to the sound of pounding on the door. And you’re not in your own bed. You briefly acknowledge the warmth next to you before it’s gone, Spencer leaping out of bed to answer the door.
“We’ve been-” Emily stands in the doorway, the bedroom lamp that you must have neglected to turn off allowing her to catch a glimpse of your dazed face, “Reid, why is ____ in your room?”
Spencer opens his mouth, flustered and unsure of what to say, floundering between looking at you both for a moment before  Emily rescues him. The digital clock obnoxiously blinks the time: 2:18am.
“Okay we’re definitely talking about this later but there’s another body, Hotch wants us all down at the station in 15.”
It occurs to you, as you rush embarassed from Spencer’s room, apologising to him at least five times on your way out, that the only thing standing between you and a million questions about your personal life is the focus on an unsub who you’ll hopefully catch today. You shrug your clothes over your head, replacing them with fresh ones and pulling on your shoes. The jet home is going to be fun.
—-
You were right to be hopeful about today. The unsub is tracked down and arrested by the time night comes around. His arrest is clean, no hostages and no shots fired. Really, in your line of work, it was the best possible outcome.
Hotch made the call that you’d spend another night here, since there was paperwork that’d need to be taken care of in the morning and some final loose ends that required wrapping up. You suspected some small part of it was because J.J wanted to ensure you made nice and left things on good terms with the local PD before you left, since there’d been a lot of headbutting throughout the case. Spencer had also been completely right about the geographical profile, the unsub had been working and killing from a rundown ramshackle house in the northmost suburb.
Speaking of Spencer, you’d barely acknowledged each other since this morning. Sure, you’d shared rooms together before, even beds when the occasion had called for it, but you’d never been so intimate before.
Maybe it was best for you both if you just ignored the whole thing entirely, carried on as normal. Yeah. Yeah that’s what you’d do.
You worried about the meaning of anything you said being lost over text so you headed to his room, knocking on his door. It brought a small smile to your face to think how you’d been on the other side of it the last time someone knocked.
He opens it, just slightly, before relaxing when he sees it’s you, “Hey.”
“Hi,” You step past him into the room, watching him close the door and take a step towards you.
He waits for you to speak.
“So. We never finished that documentary.”
He laughs, soft, “We didn’t.”
“Do you want to finish it now?”
“Uh…”  He visibly pauses and you feel a small twinge in your chest. Maybe you’d made him uncomfortable, maybe you’d misread the whole thing, maybe you’d...
He interrupts your self-deprecating runaway train of thoughts with a simple, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
As you settle down to watch the film, his laptop situated firmly in the middle of the bed this time, you feel the gulf between you. Empty space where his leg rested against yours yesterday. Still, that was what he wanted, right? His own space. Not to talk about it.
You don’t notice because you’re watching the documentary, but Spencer has to stop himself from reaching his arm out for you when he stretches. You didn’t want to talk about it, obviously. Meaning you probably wished it hadn’t happened. He tried to ignore the ache in his chest at that thought, the hollow feeling it left. Thankfully it wasn’t too long before you spoke again.
“Hey Spence?”
“Yeah?”
“Is this historically accurate?”
And explaining the nuances of Japanese-American history is much easier for him.
788 notes · View notes
lenissa · 4 years ago
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You always meet twice (Wanda Maximoff x Romanoff!Reader)
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(not my GIF)
Masterlist
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Pietro Maximoff x Reader (Past), Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Siblings)
Warnings: cursing, i think that‘s it?
Summary: When your sister Natasha asked you to be her representative at the Avengers, you immediately agreed. But then you meet Wanda Maximoff again and it seems like your shared past comes up as well as the then developed feelings.
Word Count: 3.1K
In bold are flashbacks.
A/N: This story is based on my POV i started some months ago, but the plot varies most of the time. Keep in mind that this is my first story and please be nice hahaha
Good reading!
——————————————————————————
You are walking through the halls of the Avenger‘s compound. Although your sister always talks about them, “her new family“, you have never met them before. At least not all of them. Some agents throw judgy glances at you, but you decide to ignore them - you are (Y/N) Romanoff, you’re not in need of being popular, being friendly, you’re a damn skilled agent, always ready to kick asses. That’s also why it didn‘t bother you when Natasha, your older sister, called and asked you for a favour - rather, you have always been curious what it is like to be an Avenger, so you didn‘t even think twice about accepting her offer of being her stand-in for some months.
Are you confident? Yes. Well... you try to be? Maybe- no definitely: it became a coping mechanism. But nobody could blame you… being Natasha Romanoff‘s sister sucks. Don‘t get it wrong, you love your sister with your whole heart, she is your one and only, your tower of strength. But constantly being overshadowed by her? Once people hear about your famous relative you were only seen as her sister, your own persona and personality weren‘t interesting anymore. As a result, you were working for S.H.I.E.L.D in an outpost in Europe, distant enough to start your own life, own career and only hearing about one Romanoff, (Y/N) Romanoff.
You stand before the door of the meeting room, aware of as soon as you go in there, there‘ll be no going back. Surprisingly calm you take one final breath before you knock and get invited in. There they are. The Avengers. Some of them you already know: Clint aka Hawkeye, your sister‘s best friend, Steve aka Captain America, your sister‘s ex-lover, Tony Stark aka Iron Man, sarcasm in person, and… the Maximoff Twins? Seeing them, seeing her, it literally took your breath away. You freeze, not able to breathe, to react nor to say anything.
„(Y/N),my god, have you grown?!“, Clint breaks the silence while coming near to hug you. In his arms you finally release the breath you unconsciously were holding in, and when you pull back you take a closer look at him.
„You‘re becoming grey, Legolas, are the kids that bad?“, you tease, matching his tone and patting his arm lightly.
„Oh dear, it just makes me nervous to see you again“, he jokes as he motions you to sit down.
„Speaking about that, it‘s nice to see you again, (Y/N).“ Steve nods at you and you force a smile - you think Steve is a nice guy, you really do, but you don‘t know the exact circumstances of his break-up with Nat, so you decide to keep distance in a friendly manner.
The remaining time of the meeting nothing special happens, though every time you look around the table you can‘t help but rest your eyes on a certain brunette. And it seems like she notices your gaze, meeting your eyes on and off. You try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that sets in your stomach whenever her green eyes meet yours, and obviously you are not able to hold the eye contact, so you always look at the floor quickly.
After the meeting the heroes all pop off, only you stay to put away the new equipment and gear you got. But then suddenly a well-known voice speaks up and you startle.
„Already forgot me, (Y/N)?“ You turn around, your heart racing.
„How could I forget the Wanda Maximoff?“, you nervously chuckle.
„I must say I‘m disappointed, I at least expected a greeting.“
„Wanda I-„
„(Y/N)! How long has it been? I…“, Pietro speeds in the room and rubs his neck tense, „I missed you.“
Wanda wheezes and rolls her eyes. „I‘m gonna leave you lovebirds alone“. She walks out of the room before you can say anything more.
„Well that was… weird.“ you say as you turn completely to Pietro.
„She‘s going through a hard time, she will be gentler soon.“
„You think so?“, you laugh, „define soon.“
Pietro chuckles and doesn‘t answer, not even he sees through Wanda‘s feelings, especially when it‘s about you. „Come on, I will introduce you to the others.“
——————————————————————————
Pietro took you to the living room and you have to say, you never thought the Avengers, the world‘s mightiest heroes, would be so endearing. You can finally understand why Nat sees them as her family, even after only spending some hours with them you start to let them in your heart immediately. Until Bucky decided to bring up a sensitive topic.
„From where do you know the twins, (Y/N)?“
You choke on the soda you are drinking, completely caught off-guard with that question. But after clearing your throat your coping mechanism once again appears. „They didn‘t tell you, huh? Well, we had a past.“, you chuckle.
Tony rolls his eyes, annoyed by the childish behaviour, but it makes you smile even bigger. Pietro blushes at the sudden mention of him and tries to distract. „(Y/n), why don‘t you tell them about your powers?“.
„Ok, ok… I'm pretty good at Teleportation, mind manipulation and shape shifting objects.“
Bruce, who you learnt was the human version of the Hulk, was stunned. „Wow, that sounds like a nice substitute for Natasha.“ You smile at him appreciating.
„So Romanoff, since the only other mind stuffy person in this house seems to be pissed, you’ll start training with Rogers.“ Tony announced bugged.
„Can‘t wait.“ You and Steve get up to go to the gym and the rest starts talking about their new member.
„She seems like a faithful person. A true Romanoff.“, Bucky states.
„Ironically, she‘s really good at betrayal and hurting people.“, Wanda says snippy as she walks in to get a snack.
Pietro sighs, „Wanda, what the hell?“
„She‘s not as perfect as you think, Romeo.“
Tony claps to get their attention, „Concentration, guys! You better clear up, Wanda, I just got Information from Fury, you and y/n will be a team in tomorrow‘s mission.“ Wanda rolls her eyes in annoyance, but she knows that it‘s unnecessary to protest.
——————————————————————————
During training, all you thought of was Wanda. Then you tried to read, sleep, watch tv, but nothing could distract you from thinking about the Sokovian. It felt like all the feelings you tried to suppress this past year flood you now at the same time. You barely perceived that you got up, your feet carrying you to the kitchen. Standing in front of the kitchen door you finally wake up from your trance. Your hands are sweaty and shaky, your heart pounding. “What the hell am I doing here?“ You think and just before you turn around the door opens, hitting your shoulder lightly.
„Oh my god, I didn't see you, are you ok?“
„Don‘t worry, I‘m fine. I- I was about to leave anyway.“ 
„But you haven’t even been in there yet, (Y/N).“ The way she says your name releases a cluster of butterflies in your stomach, green eyes watching you amused. „I‘m sorry.“
„Really, it‘s fine. Wanda, list-“
„Don‘t, (Y/N). We don‘t have to do this.“, Wanda sighs.
You take a deep breath and continue, „No, I have to. I am sorry. For everything. I-...I miss you.“
„(Y/N), please, sto-“, she says almost whispering.
„As a friend. I miss my best friend.“
You notice slightly tears forming in her eyes. „You did this to me-“
„(Y/n)! We need you to show us your powers!“ Bucky shouts excitedly as he approaches you both.
„Bucky, now is really not the time to-“
„We need it. For the plan. You know, tomorrow‘s mission?“
You clench your fists and sigh, you know the private moment you just had was ruined. With one apologetic look to Wanda you follow Bucky to the meeting room.
This job will be your end.
——————————————————————————
You weren‘t wrong about this job being your end. Well at least the circumstances. Last night’s events were just... crazy.
After showing the team your powers you went straight to bed, exhausted from all the physical training and psychological stress. When you heard the knocking on the door, you‘re surprised to see Pietro standing there after opening it.
„(Y/N), I think we should talk.“
„Pietro, i-...“, you sigh, „today‘s really not my day. Can we wait until tomorrow?“
„I can‘t wait. Please. I need to get this out.“
„Oookay, go on then, i guess.“, you say, kinda annoyed by the pushiness of the Sokovian.
„I‘m glad that you are here and ok.“
„So am I...“ you laugh humorlessly, „it certainly feels nice to know someone here that doesn‘t completely hate me“ Pietro looks you in the eyes and slowly comes closer. Your breath hitches and you gulp hard when he takes your hand.
„Pietro, what are you doi-“ Before you can finish the sentence, lips are pressed on yours. You are shocked by the action, and you hesitate to kiss back. Yet you can’t resist the familiar feeling of his lips caressing your own, so you kiss back.
„(Y/N), we need to...“, Wanda says approaching your floor but when she sees you both, she immediately freezes„...talk.“
The second you hear her talking you pull back and step away from Pietro. The brunette looks at you incredulously and then walks away.
„Wanda. Wanda!“ you shout while running after her. „Wanda, would you please stop eloping!“ She stops and turns around, eyes burning red. She‘s furious, dangerous, not in control of herself.
„Wanda, use your words. Calm do-“
——————————————————————————
She did not calm down. In fact, she threw you against the closest wall. Even though you don’t have any serious injuries, you are mad. If you were trying to find the courage to talk to her, she could use her words too, right? The morning was quiet, too quiet if you are honest. Each time the door to the gym opened you startled, expecting to get yelled at. But it never happened. Once the twins walked in, they ignored you. Both of them, though Pietro occasionally glanced confused at you. After debating whether you should talk to her or not, you decided to walk up to her and confront her. „What the hell was that yesterday, Wanda?!“
She just huffs and continues to hit the punching bag, but you are determined to talk about it before going on a mission with her, you couldn‘t risk being distracted.
„You‘re acting like a bitch, I don‘t even recognize you anymore“, you say incredulously.
She aggressively turns around. „I am the bitch? You‘re the one that throws herself at anyone, not being here for even a whole day!“
„He“, you point at Pietro, „ he fucking kissed me! I never wanted it to happen. He caught me off-guard!“
„Oh and of course you couldn‘t defend yourself, poor (Y/N).“ Wanda ironically retorts, pushing you against your shoulder.
„Guys-“
„You literally came in one second after he kissed me-“
„GUYS!“ Pietro shouts and both of you turn to him, not noticing that he’s still in the same room. „What the hell is going on with you two?“
„You know what? What the hell Pietro, too! You can‘t just kiss me after not seeing me for a year! What if I don‘t like you anymore?“
„You don‘t like me anymore?“
„You don‘t like him anymore?“
You sigh. „Yes. No. I mean…. I don't like you anymore like that. I- I like you as a friend, Pietro. After you flew from Hydra-“
„-alone-“, Wanda interjects.
„After you flew from Hydra alone, it broke my heart! You freaking left us there!“
Wanda scowls. „And then you did the same to me some time later.“
„Wanda I-... You think it was easy for me to just leave you behind? Fuck, Wanda, do you really think that low of me? When Nat rescued me I tried to convince her to take you with us but she… we… you...“
„Say it, (Y/N). I was the enemy. You were the poor agent, kidnapped by Hydra and experimented on and I was the maniac that volunteered for a dangerous organization.“
„I tried to come back and get you!“
„Don't lie to me, (Y/N).“
„Oh my god“, you huff, „believe me for once!“
„Why should i?!“
„Because I love you!“
O oh.
You both tense, green eyes filled with rage, jealousy, confusion, probably every emotion there is, staring wide at you. You all stand there in silence, all shocked by your outburst, and the only thing that can be heard is your shaky breathing. „Shit. I- I need to go“, you mumble as you storm out of the room embarrassed.
——————————————————————————
This was not going well. Your relationship with Wanda was already complicated enough and your dumb, unplanned love confession didn’t really help. However, you needed to suck it up, ignore all the overthinking in your mind. You are here for a reason. A job. Not a witch.
You are here for the missions. For Nat.
That’s what you tell yourself all the time. But your brain and your heart don‘t really agree, especially while being on a mission with Wanda. You have never been more thankful for your powers that were blocking her out from reading your mind, you were sure your thoughts were literally screaming at her. And gee, you know her too well, she was trying to read your mind - Wanda always has that certain concentrated cute gaze and slight wrinkles between her eyebrows when she does it. Studying her so precisely was a mistake, it made the whole thing even more uncomfortable.
She didn’t react to what you said earlier (not that you gave her that much chance), she acted like you never said anything important like that. But when she caught you staring at her she raised her eyebrows challengingly and broke the silence.
“Are you nervous?”
“Hmm? Oh well, no. I- I guess we had more difficult missions.”, you give her a shy smile and start playing with your fingers nervously.
“Sure.. That’s why you’re currently doing one of your habits when you’re nervous.`` Wanda teases.
You blushed, your cheeks turning faint red. “Let’s just do this'', you say, stepping out of the jet and putting in the comm - earpiece.
Your task wasn’t hard. Go in, kill the enemies, destroy the data, walk out. It was going well until you saw Wanda getting attacked from behind. But before the agent could point his gun at her and hurt her you shut your eyes close and focused on turning his gun into a flower.
“Romantic!”
“You’re welcome”, you playfully roll your eyes. You curse yourself for having no other - less with love connected - idea to use. You scream just before a grenade goes up next to you, throwing you through a glass door. You can’t use your teleportation in time and the impact is pretty hard, causing you to pass out.
Wanda turns after hearing your scream. “Shit, shit, shit Romanoff!”, she activates her comms, “Guys, pick us up, (Y/N) is down!” She stands protectively next to your unconscious body, defending you from getting attacked or worse.
— — —
You wake up in the medical wing of the Avengers. The first thing you notice is that you’re still wearing your suit, so the injury couldn‘t be that bad. At least you thought. Only seconds later you feel the banging in your head, ringing sounds in your ears. You bury your face in the pillow, frustrated of being new and your first mission already gone wrong. You could hear them teasing you for being the “weaker” Romanoff and start rethinking the choice to even get on this team.
And then Wanda walks in and all thoughts are gone. No more noises, no hammering - all senses preoccupied with her. She seems tired, still wearing her suit as well, and exhausted.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” You look at her curious. “You look tired.”
She chuckles lightly. “You pass out and the first thing you comment is how I look? Wow.”
“What can I say, you really make me concentrate on other things than my condition.” She looks confused at your statement, though an amused smile on her lips. “Because you’re a known face- family- and that reminds me of my sister and gives me comfort.”, you stutter complete nonsense.
Did i really just say that?!
You wished she wasn’t standing there, then you would have been able to facepalm yourself as hard as you could.
“Oh, eh, sure. I’m tired, you were right. You were unconscious the whole night. I stayed, I thought it would be nice for you to not wake up alone.” She tries to overplay your weird comment.
“The whole night? Holy shit. I was unconscious for that long i-”, you feel your whole body tingling as you just now realize her purpose, “that’s very nice of you. Thank you.”
“No, no (Y/N). I owed you that. You saved me...thank you.”
“Wanda Maximoff, you do have manners after all.“ She playfully rolls her eyes on your comment and glances at the floor in embarrassment. „You’re welcome. You would have done the same - I hope?”
She giggles and you can’t help but smile like an idiot at that adorable sound. Then you just stare at each other, both too shy to break the comfortable silence. But then Wanda speaks up again.
“You know I’m-”, she starts fidgeting with her rings, “I’m sorry. For being such a bitch. I.. appreciate what you said… earlier. I guess I was just hurt and frustrated.“
“I know Wanda. Don’t be sorry. You have every right to be mad. It was wrong to expect that we could pretend like nothing happened back there in Sokovia.”
After a short silence Wanda asks, almost in a whisper: “Do- do you regret it?”
“What?! No! Loving you is the best thing that has ever happened to me. As a friend. But also more.”, you shake your head as if to underline your sentence and the last part of the sentence coming out almost inaudible, but she still hears it.
Wanda says nothing, she just nodds. But then she slowly moves her hand to your own and takes it. Ignoring the butterflies spreading all over your body, you squeeze her hand, happy you both stopped fighting. You shuffle to the edge of the sickbed and pat to the free place next to you. The Sokovian hesitantly moves next to you, but as soon as she feels your warm body next to her, she gives in and relaxes. You both lie there, just enjoying each other’s presence, until Wanda’s eyes start to get heavier and heavier and she eventually drives off to sleep. And seeing her, the girl you love, in this peaceful state relaxes you as well and you can’t fight falling asleep with the calming sound of her steady breathing next to you.
——————————————————————————
Part 2
217 notes · View notes
nctyhoney · 4 years ago
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a helping hand (m)
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Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader 
Genre: smut, fluff, office worker!mark, friends to lovers, office!au
Word Count: 7.6k
Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), car sex, dry humping, praise kink
Playlist:  pickled ginger - mac ayres, fill my holes - YESEO, wait for it - H.E.R.
Summary: You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.
A/N: Mark in a suit is just too damn cute. This is my first fic on here so thank you for reading! There will be another part to this at some point.
————————————————————————— 
It’s just gone 8 am and you're on your morning commute to work. You have a car but the traffic in Seoul made it almost impossible to drive during rush hour. Your eyes still feel puffy from sleep, and you hope your mascara has masked their appearance somewhat. As you and a mass of other office workers spill out of the subway station, you're greeted by an autumnal wind. Although it felt mild for the time of year, you couldn't get used to the early morning darkness that the promise of winter brought.
In just 2 years, you'd progressed to head of the marketing team at Hyphen, Korea's biggest publishing house. You were proud to have landed a job at such a reputable company straight out of university, but with each pay rise came more responsibilities.
The elevator reached your floor, 39. Going through to the kitchen area, you put two iced Americano cans in the refrigerator. You weren't a fan of coffee but it got you through the day. As you were organising the refrigerator, you felt someone behind you and turned around quickly - it was your manager. He had a weird way of creeping up on his workers and you found him somewhat seedy. You always made sure to be polite to him, though.
"Morning manager Kim," you stand up, adjusting your pencil skirt slightly.
"Morning y/n! Here bright and early I see. Did you get my email last night?" He asks, his eyes flicking between your body and your face.
"Sorry, what email?" You ask, feeling slightly panicked.
"This year's interns start today. I sent it last night so you probably didn't get a chance to read it."
Crap. Interns. You didn't know if it was your imposter syndrome talking but something about being observed by interns made you feel underqualified. Perhaps you just got a bad batch of interns the first time around. You remembered Kyungsoo and Minhee from last year. Kyungsoo's uncle was CEO of Hyphen and he wouldn't let you forget it. He refused to work and you'd find him and Minhee coming back from their lunch breaks an hour late, often out of the unused stock cupboard.
"No sorry I didn't read it," you apologise, "when are they coming?"
"The receptionist said there are four downstairs waiting. They'll be up in a minute," manager Kim says checking his watch.
You nod, "How many will I be working with this year?"
"You'll each have one intern this year. You'll be working with Mark Lee, he's Canadian. A good kid. I think you'll like him."
Just then, the sound of the elevator reaching the 39th floor alerted you. Four of the interns shuffled out of the elevator.
"Welcome to Hyphen, I'm manager Kim, you might remember me from your interview," he said looking between his sheet with their faces and names and up at them.
"So we have Mark, Haechan, Jeno and Sooji. I hope you enjoy this year working in marketing. This is y/n, she's head of this department."
You exchange handshakes and bobs of the head, feeling relieved that these interns at least look shy rather than cocky rich kids.
"Mark you'll be giving y/n a helping hand this year. Y/n, I know you'll make him feel welcome. The rest of you, let's find the workers you'll be shadowing," manager Kim says before they're off out of the kitchen to one of the conference rooms.
Mark is staring at you from a distance, awkward and tense. His black hair falls into his eyes despite styling it neatly for work; he brushes it out of his eye nervously.
"Tea?" you ask him, grabbing your two favourite mugs out of the cupboard.
"Oh, yeah, please - if that's not too much trouble," Mark says hesitantly.
"Of course it's not. You can sit down, we don't start work for another 20 minutes."
He does as he's told, opting for one of the chairs closest to the kitchen worktop.
"Do you take sugar?" You call over to him.
"Two," he replies, fiddling slightly with his wristwatch. This boy is endearing you think, definitely an upgrade from arrogant Kyungsoo.
"How are you feeling about interning here?" You ask, stirring his tea, before coming to sit at the chair next to his.
He takes the mug, "Oh, thank you. I'm kinda nervous I'm not gonna lie, but thankful to be here."
You laugh, his casual tone is refreshing but he catches on and apologizes quickly.
"There's no need to apologize, you can be informal with me. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," you say, catching his eye over the rim of your mug. He's blushing slightly, and you wonder why you are too.
It's been 3 months since the interns came. December comes and with it is an endless rain.
In those 3 months, it didn't take long for you and Mark to grow close. Sure, he still had his occasional shy tendencies but you spent all your working hours together. Rather than a forced relationship between a senior and their junior, this was something you both saw as natural.
You're just not sure if the feelings you've developed are natural, too. His eyes hold onto yours for longer at company dinners, his hands linger at your waist when he reaches to get a file from the shelf in front of you. And it sets something off in you. You crave the contact. Mark Lee is driving you crazy.
You certainly weren't imagining these moments. You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.
When you first started at Hyphen, Johnny used to be heavy on the flirting with you, and being from America, he was confident with it. He’d make you cups of hot, sweet tea each morning. He gave you those flirtatious touches on your arms while complimenting you, and he’d always make sure you got home safe after a company dinner. But he also had a long-term girlfriend and you knew nothing could come of it. Johnny still flirts with you, but that’s just him. And when you first began working at the company, you fell for it...almost. It happened a second time, with Jaehyun but then you learnt that these were just the ways of the office.
Today was a Friday, which meant your division would have drinks with the manager. You weren't keen on drinking, especially not with your manager but your coworkers made it bearable. And since the CEO was attending this week, the manager wouldn't be bothering you, Yerin and Mina for the entire night.
You lean over Mark, reading through the document on his laptop. He's edited the press release you wrote for a new book launch.
He shifts around in his seat. You can't tell if he's nervous about you reading his work or nervous about being sat underneath you. You hope it’s the latter option, though. 
"As expected from our Markie. You're really helping me by editing these documents, it's great - thanks," you smile, moving away slightly.
He's blushing a violent shade of pink and touching the back of his neck. He couldn't get any cuter.
"It's not fair that y/n gets such a helpful intern. Sooji left early when she promised to help with my reports, that's the second time this week," Mina huffs, folding her arms.
"It's compensation for the hell I went through with the interns last year," you laugh.
Johnny walks up to you and nudges you playfully.
"Nah it's not compensation. Y/n is just so hard-working, that's why they gave you the most hard-working intern," he says winking.
Mark looks between you and Johnny, an eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, thanks for that Johnny but that's definitely not true. Not the part about Mark not being hard-working...or me, I mean, I am hard-working, just not the most," you stutter, suddenly feeling foolish.
Luckily it hits 5 pm before anyone can dwell on your tongue-tied speech. You're all tidying away, turning off your monitors and getting ready for a night of drinking.
You catch eyes with Yerin and go to the bathroom to touch up your makeup.
You're reapplying a dab of lipstick and Yerin brushes her face lightly with powder. She stops for a moment, glancing at you.
"You don't still like Johnny do you?" Yerin asks.
"Johnny?! No way, I'm not going back there," you laugh.
"You seem nervous around him," Yerin points out.
"Come on Yerin, that was awkward. It's weird when someone hypes you up like that. It's bad enough being marketing lead now, it's like I'm expected to be some bigshot when I still feel like a uni student," you admit.
"Yeah, I understand, but you're totally capable. Could it be that you’re feeling shy around a handsome, new worker, I wonder?" Yerin winks.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I've noticed that you've been spending a lot of time with Mark recently. I'm left to take lunch with Doyoung. I mean I'm not complaining but you know, Mark does look kinda smitten."
You look over at your friend and catch her looking back at you, expectantly.
"We have to look after our interns, Yerin. And it's not every day that you get such a hard-working one like Mark. Remember the hell I went through with Kyungsoo? Let's just say I'm relieved I've got a good worker."
"Right...so you don't think he's even a little bit cute?"  
Hell yes, you did. But you couldn't admit that, could you?
"He's cute but like, in a little bro way. He's too goofy for me to see him romantically," you bluff but you know Yerin can see right through you.
"He's an intern, what's the harm? As long as Kim doesn't find out," Yerin says.
"Yerin! You're talking nonsense."
"I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you," she laughs.
"The way he looks at me?" You blurt out, "The way I look at him? We're just good coworkers."
"Girl, you're such a bad liar."
Yerin's words stay in your head for the entire night. Suddenly you're thinking about what Mark's lips would feel like against yours. Wondering what it would feel like for him to touch you, more than the light touches in the office. You've thought about it before, of course. But mostly while touching yourself in bed.
Mark is sat at the low table opposite you, Yerin and Mina at either side of you. Mark is laughing, taking a shot of soju as Johnny pats him on the back. He clearly can't handle his alcohol because he's giggling like a school kid and his face is already flushed. He looks stupidly cute and you realize how much you want to hold him, feel his flushed cheeks underneath your palms. But you peel your eyes away, tuning in to a conversation Yuta and Mina are having about Christmas holidays in Japan.
Manager Kim announces that him and the CEO will be moving to drink somewhere else, stumbling from the long table and telling you to enjoy your night. You all know where that 'somewhere else' is, but you don't bother questioning it. Corporate culture can be parasitic.
Even so, you're relieved that they've left, the atmosphere less stuffy now. Things feel playful and flirtatious. Jaemin is whispering in Jeno's ear and Jeno is laughing. Yerin's hand is dangerously placed on Doyoung's thigh. 
You can't snatch glances at Mark anymore because he's looking right at you, his eyes filled with something you haven't seen before..lust? Maybe your tipsiness is altering the situation but you like it.
“Shall we play truth or dare?” Lucas grins, clapping his hands.
“Let’s just do truths, we’re in public,” Jaehyun points out.
“I second that! But this stays between us, company oath,” Mina says, taking an empty soju bottle and spinning it on the table.
The bottle lands on Jungwoo first and Jaehyun and Mark nudge him on either side, laughing.
“Jungwoo! Who would you date out of everyone here?” Mina asks.
Jungwoo’s eyes are playful and he throws his head back laughing.
“You want me to be completely honest? I’d probably say Lucas,” he says without hesitating.
Everyone is laughing and teasing the pair, except for Mina who nudges Lucas in the ribs to stop him from smirking.
“Moving on, where is the riskiest place you’ve ever had sex?” Jaehyun asks, spinning the bottle as it lands on Mark. 
Mark rubs at his nose, looking at you momentarily. You pretend to focus on your soju shot but you’re listening carefully. 
“I mean…a car I guess?” Mark chuckles, he’s bright red now and you feel jealousy rising inside of you.
Why were you jealous? He wasn’t even your boyfriend.
Johnny is ruffling his hair but Mark looks up at you, looking slightly shifty. Maybe you understand how Mina feels now. You can’t look at him.
“Okay, moving on,” Mark says taking the bottle, “Do you like anyone here?”
It lands on Jaemin and he reclines back in his seat. He raises an eyebrow, “Sure, they like me too.”
Everyone laughs at that and Jeno just shakes his head cutely, everyone knowing they’re practically an item at this point.
“Who would you make out with right now if we were doing dares?” Jaemin asks.
The bottle lands on Johnny. It’s Mark’s turn to pat Johnny on the back now and Johnny just smiles to himself.
“Aren’t you gonna answer, Johnny?” Yuta laughs.
“I’d make out with y/n” Johnny shrugs.
There are collective gasps, and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. That wasn’t what he was supposed to answer, surely? He had a girlfriend; he could’ve passed on the answer. You look up at Johnny and as if reading your thoughts, he shrugs.
“I had to answer,” he says, putting his hands up defensively.
You laugh then, typical Johnny.
There’s a playful glint in Mark’s eye. Was he that unaffected? You suddenly felt annoyed, foolish for feeling jealous about Mark’s confession.
“If you could have a threesome with two people here, who would they be?” Johnny asks.
It lands on Yerin then, who is already flushed with embarrassment at the question.
“Doyoung, and hmm..” she pauses looking around, “Probably y/n, because we’ve seen each other naked.”
“What?!” Mark, Lucas and Jaehyun say simultaneously. Mark just about chokes on his soju.
“Calm down Mark, looks like someone’s getting a bit turned on,” Yuta winks but Mark’s eyes are still wide, shocked by Yerin’s statement.
Yerin was your best friend, all best friends had seen each other naked. It was perfectly normal. At least it was for you two. 
“It’s a girl thing,” Yerin says simply, taking another shot.
“Oh! I have a good one,” Yuta says grabbing the bottle, “Have you masturbated thinking about anyone around this table?”
Of course it lands on you. To be honest, you had touched yourself thinking about 3 separate people at the table but no one needed to know that. Everyone’s silent and you don’t know where to look. You could lie, it would save your reputation but where would the fun be in that? You were all as tipsy as each other. So you reply with a small “yes” instead.
“Who was it?” Jaehyun asks. 
“I’m not gonna answer that,” you laugh.
You try not to blush but you can’t help it and cover your face with your hands momentarily.
“She’s thinking about them again!” Yerin nudges your shoulder.
You didn’t want to look, you didn’t want to see if Mark was staring at you so you take the bottle to ask the next question quickly.
“How many people have you slept with in total?” you ask, spinning again.
It lands on Doyoung, his eyes are wide and he looks confused, you can’t help but laugh at his cute expression.
Yerin is smirking, expectant.
“Hmm...maybe fifteen?” Doyoung says, tilting his head.
“Fifteen! No way,” Johnny laughs but Doyoung just nods.
“You said you wanted the truth.”
Yerin looks slightly pissed as she pours another shot of soju. It’s only when Doyoung whispers in her ear that her frown softens into a slight smile. She’s got it bad, you thought.
“Let’s stop the game now, I don’t want to hear all these details,” Mina says, side-eyeing Lucas.
 “Yeah I didn’t even get picked,” Haechan huffs, “Let’s just drink a bit more!”
"Hey," Yerin murmurs in your ear over the noise a few moments later, "I'm going home with Doyoung, I'll see you on Monday."
"You naughty girl! Have fun," you laugh. She blows you a flirtatious kiss as she leaves, her arm in Doyoung's.
It's gone midnight when you and your remaining coworkers spill out onto the street. 
"To the next bar, let's go!" Haechan shouts, stumbling as Johnny props him up.
"Dude, you've had way too much to drink. I'm getting you in a taxi," Johnny says. 
Sooji and Jaehyun also opt for getting taxis, following Johnny down the street.
"Are you coming y/n? Mark?" Jaehyun calls.
"I think I'm going to get some food first, I'll see you guys on Monday," you say before you realize. You're not even hungry.
"Yeah me too, see you later!" Mark waves.
You say your goodbyes, leaving you and Mark to walk the opposite way. Mark follows your step, but he's taking his tie off, undoing his top button because he's hot from drinking even though it's the middle of December. The sight of him makes your stomach flip.
"You don't think they'll suspect anything, about you coming home with me?" you ask suddenly.
Mark raises an eyebrow and looks at you, "Who said I'm coming home with you? I thought you wanted food."
"Yeah...yeah, just they might think something else."
Mark shrugs, "Do you care what they think?"
"No, and I guess everyone's fucking each other anyway," you say emphatically.  
"Exactly. Everyone in the office knows we're friends, let them think what they want," Mark says.
"I guess you're right."
"So where are we going?"
"McDonald's?" you ask.
"I don't really feel like food, to be honest," Mark chuckles.
You turn to Mark, "You're seriously just gonna watch me eat?"
He shrugs, "Why not?"
His eyes are glazed over and shiny from the alcohol, his lips formed into a little pout. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right there and then on the street. 
"You're so weird when you're drunk," you say instead, "Seriously, where do you want to go? If you're not going to eat, we might as well go home. I mean...you go to yours and I go to mine."
Mark pulls at his ear, thinking for a moment. But it doesn't really look like he's thinking, more like pretending to think. You can see the trace of a smirk hiding on his lips. This whole conversation feels weirdly contrived. You want him and you're pretty sure he feels the same way.
"I could come with you? Just, you know, to make sure you get home safe," Mark blurts out.
You can't take it anymore. You want Mark Lee so bad it hurts. "Right, okay...well, shall we go now?"
Mark nods and you haul a taxi, just as it starts raining.
Mark is stood in your bedroom doorway, looking as awkward as when you first met him. Now you're not so sure if it was a good idea to invite him in.
"I'll sleep on the sofa if you want," he insists but both of you know it means nothing.
You laugh, "Mark, you can sleep in my bed, it's alright. You can sleep on the left side, I'll sleep on the right if you want."
He smiles in response but doesn't move.
"Seriously Mark, I'm not going to bite," you say patting at the bed.
He sits down gingerly then.
"Your apartment is decorated so nicely," he says looking around your room.
You can see the moon outside of your window, already on its descent for another night.
When you turn back to look at Mark, his eyes are on you. You don't know what to say, but you know what you want to do.
"Can I kiss you ?" he asks, confirming your thoughts. He looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes again.
You nod your head, you can't talk but it doesn't matter because Mark is already leaning in and then his lips are moving against yours. His lips taste faintly of soju, but you don't care. You want to taste him and you slide your tongue against his, suddenly feeling desperate. He takes the hint because you're both taking off each other's clothes then until you're both just in your underwear.
"Wait," Mark says, his hands faltering, "Do you think we should be doing this?"
It's dark, only a street lamp and the moon partially illuminating the room. The raindrops are highlighted and cling to the windowpane. You feel melancholic and you realize now more than ever that you want to be held by Mark. You can make out Mark's expression, a mix of flustered and horny rolled into one. You know he wants this too, this dorky, shy intern who was barely able to make eye contact with you is now in your bed.
"Why not? There's nothing wrong  with what we're doing."
That's all the confirmation he needs because he starts to plant kisses on your neck. You stroke his hair as he makes his way down to your boobs.
"You're so hot" he murmurs, taking off your bra.
He nuzzles his face into your chest, breathing heavily before taking one of your boobs in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your nipple first and then sucks again. His tongue feels warm and wet against your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy.
"God that feels so good -  keep doing that," you breathe.
He hums in response against your boob and you shiver. You want to keep hearing him, that voice that you've dreamt about for nights on end.
Mark lifts you to sit on his lap and you can feel his hardness pressing against you.You guide Mark's head back up to meet yours and you're both kissing again. You grind down on him, both knowing you need this. You want to feel him against you and you can't control it. Your movements are instinctual. Mark understands because he's bucking his hips up to meet yours, despite still having his boxers on. You can hear him grunt into the kiss.
"Do you have a condom?" you sigh.
"Shit, no."
You break apart briefly, Mark's eyes are hooded and his lips are swollen. You're almost certain that you look the same.
"It's okay," you say, getting off his lap to sit next to him.
"Wait - what are you doing then?" he asks, a trace of disappointment in his voice.
"What does it look like I'm doing," you say, pushing him lightly so he's lying down on the bed.
You pull off his trousers and he helps by kicking them at the ankles. He's eager now, his eyes hungry.
You pull down his boxers next until he's lying there, his beautiful, fully naked body exposed. You can see the shadowed contours of his lean body, the smoothness of his skin.
You kiss on his thighs, his skin is so soft and you hear his breath hitch as you do it. He's completely turned on now, you're satisfied knowing you've done this to him. So satisfied that you begin rubbing your clit in slow motions as your face hovers over Mark's crotch.
You take his dick with your free hand and pump it in your hand a couple of times. The tip is wet already and you kiss it, the precum on your lips. He whimpers then and you circle your clit quicker, feeling yourself growing wetter. As you lick Mark's tip, his hips raise to meet your mouth.
"I can't show my face when I'm like this," he murmurs, putting your bed pillow over his face.
"No, I want to see you," you say, climbing up to take the pillow.
Mark just turns his face to the side in response, too horny to argue.
You take him fully in your mouth, bobbing up and down slowly before finding a steady rhythm. He groans in time to your sucking motion.
"Fuck y/n, I'm gonna cum soon," he moans.
You hum against his dick, "You taste so good, Markie. Please cum for me."
He holds your head, pushing it down to reach his raised hips and you can feel yourself choking as his tip touches the back of your throat.
"I'm so...close,  fuck" he moans, thrusting into your mouth.
He whimpers and wriggles beneath you, before jerking violently in large strokes as he cums in your mouth.
You swallow it up, but continue sucking, feeling yourself reach your own climax.
"Shit," Mark hisses.
"Oh my god, Mark -" you cry as you orgasm, your center pulsating.
You come to lie next to Mark, kissing him, open-mouthed and hungry. He can taste himself on you and he likes it.
"You were so damn good at that, y/n," Mark whispers.
"You were so good," you mirror, taking his now sweaty cheek in your hand.
"But I didn't get to do anything," Mark mumbles, placing soft, small kisses on your face.
"I came too. It was so hot seeing you like that."
"No seriously - I wanna make you cum, like for real though," he murmurs into your hair.
"Mm?"
"I know you're sleepy now but would you let me some other time?" he says in the darkness.
Mark's dark hair is plastered to his forehead now. He's hot and flushed, it makes your heart want to burst.
"Do you want to see me again? Like...outside of work I mean," you ask, brushing the hair from his eyes to look at him.
He nods, "What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Nothing, are you asking me out?" you giggle, pinching his cheek a little then.
He smiles and you know he's blushing.  
"I guess you could say that, yeah," he laughs.
"I'm free then," you say, giving him a small peck on his lips.
Mark pulls you in for a hug. It seems like he wants to say something, whisper to you but you find yourself drifting in and out of sleep quickly. The sound of rain mixes with Mark's rhythmic breathing and lulls you to sleep.
Mark had told you to wait on a nearby street by Apgujeong station. So you're surprised when he pulls up in front of you in his car. It's an old model, just about affordable for a student but it suits him well.
"I never knew you had a car," you point out, climbing into the passenger seat.
"What can I say, I'm a man full of surprises," he winks, laughing because he knew that was as cheesy as it sounded.
"Is where we're going a surprise too?" you ask.
"It might be," he says tapping at the steering wheel with his thumb to the beat of the music. It's a Lucky Daye song.
"You look so pretty by the way," he says, rubbing his nose slightly. You can tell he does that when he's shy.
"You don't look bad yourself," you reply. That would be an understatement, Mark looks like a full course meal right now. Skimming your eyes over his casual clothes, you remember that this was the first time you were meeting Mark outside of work.
You feel good. Despite how cold the late morning feels, the low winter sun is shining, the sky a soft blue.
"Where are you taking me?" you ask when you eventually realize that you're leaving Seoul.
Mark just taps his nose and tells you it won't be a long journey.
And he's right, in the next half an hour, you're driving on Incheon bridge, next to a stretch of blue sea.
It turns out that Mark brought you to Incheon to eat.
You're sat on the floor at a low table of a seafood restaurant. Both of you know how good Incheon seafood is. There's what seems like a hundred different side dishes on the table, and despite both being big eaters, you're not sure if you'll be able to clear even half of it.
"Have the spicy seafood stew, it's delicious," Mark says, pouring you a bowl and putting it in front of you.  
You take a mouthful and he's right, it is delicious. It’s warm and spicy, exactly what you need on a cold day. Mark is looking at you intently, his eyes shining like an eager puppy. He seems happy to see you enjoying your food and that warms your heart. You want to kiss him again.
“The stew is really good for a hangover too, it’s probably what you need,” he says, smiling. 
“Hangover? I’m not hungover, do I look it?” You say self-consciously. 
“No, no, I just meant we both drunk quite a lot last night,” he says, laughing nervously. 
You blush remembering last night and then your thoughts flick back to truth or dare, and how jealous you were. 
Mark must be thinking about it too. "Have you dated any of the guys at Hyphen?" he asks.
You just about choke on your stew, "No, why do you ask that?"
Mark shrugs, "I just wondered. They all speak really well of you, especially Johnny. And you're pretty, why wouldn't they want to date you?"
You laugh then, "Do they?"
Mark frowns a little, "You don't like Johnny, do you?"
"God no, we barely interact these days. No, I haven't dated any of them."
"Did you interact a lot before?" Mark asks.
"Me and Johnny? No, has Johnny said something?"
"Nah, apart from saying he’d date you last night. He just looks like he likes you," Mark says, rubbing his cheek.
You laugh a little then, "No, Johnny has a girlfriend and I wouldn't date him now even if he didn't have one."
Mark relaxes a little then.
"Is there a rule about dating coworkers then or do you just decide not to do it?"
"There's no rule, people just like to keep their personal and work lives private and often separate," you point out.
Mark thinks for a moment, toying with the noodles on his plate.
"What do you like to do, keep things private?" he asks.
"Private or public, I don't care, they can choose," you say quietly.
"Okay...that's good then," Mark says, smirking slightly.
He always has a roundabout way of saying things.
It's 5 pm when the wintry sun sets in Incheon. You and Mark are walking along the beach. It's not perfect weather for it, since it's cold and you shiver in your coat but you're happy to be here with him.
"You need to dress warmer, y/n!" Mark says as he turns to you to retie your scarf properly.
He rubs his hands over your arms to warm you up.
"I'm okay - feel," you say, reaching your hand up to his cheek.
Mark searches your eyes and so it doesn't come as a surprise when he leans in and kisses you. His lips are warm and soft against yours and you feel as though you're melting. The kiss is a light, sweet one and you have to break apart because you feel giddy.
"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he says.
"No, I like it."
You look into the fading light and see figures at the busy part of the beach in the distance. It wouldn't matter if you were publicly affectionate, no one would care. But you know if you start kissing him again, you won't want to stop.
You hear the sea breeze and then the first rainfall before you see it. It's soft and gentle but you know if you stand here for much longer that you'll catch a cold.
"Shall I take you home?" Mark asks.
You nod, feeling dazed and slightly lightheaded.
As you get into the car, Mark puts his Spotify on. 'Wait for it' by H.E.R. is first to play.
You peer over at his phone screen, it reads 'sex playlist'.
"There's no way you have a sex playlist," you laugh, pushing his arm playfully.
"Nah, it's just random," Mark bluffs, rubbing his nose in the cute way that he did.
"Well, whoever created this playlist has good taste."
"Yeah, alright, it is mine. But it doesn't mean anything," he says.
You raise an eyebrow then.
"Why doesn't it mean anything?" you ask. You don't know why you're probing but you enjoy teasing Mark, hearing him search for words to form an acceptable answer.
Mark just shrugs though, "I just like this mood...being here with you, I like it. This playlist just represents the mood."
"You're so good at bullshitting, Mark," you laugh but Mark is looking at you seriously now.
I know you on the way, but now I want it I can't take it I'm merely tryna chill, but I'm impatient Stay on my mind Can't sleep at night
“I’m being for real though. Like yesterday, I didn’t tell you but it was the first time someone’s given me head before,” he says, playing with his hoodie drawstrings.  
“What? You’ve never had a blowjob before?” you ask, eyes wide.
“I’ve only dated one girl and she straight up didn’t want anything in her mouth so nah, it was the first time and it was amazing” Mark says. 
“Well there’s a first time for everything,” you smile, feeling happy that you got to share that moment with Mark. 
You look at each other in silence again. It’s a comfortable silence but it’s heavy with intent. You both know what’s coming. 
"Y/n, you know I'm not good with words," Mark says and then he pulls you to him so that you're kissing again.
The kiss is different this time, it's slow and intense as if you're something he craves. It's the type of kiss that expresses he needs you now. His lips on yours feel so good and you kiss him back, mirroring his eagerness. Your hands are in his hair and then he bites at your bottom lip. He's gentle but it drives you crazy. His hands are travelling into your bra now.
"Mark," you whisper against his lips, "Mark we're in public."
"It's crazy, I keep wanting to kiss you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours.
"I want to kiss you too, all the time," you admit.
"No one's here to see and it's dark now anyway."
You look around and Mark is right, it is dark. The rain is lashing hard against the window now, the H.E.R. track barely audible. Your breath and body heat is already steaming up the windows of the car.
"Can I touch you? I want to touch you," Mark whispers, kissing your neck.
There's no use in trying to stop, you feel your willpower disintegrating by the second. There's a desperation in Mark's voice. He's wanted this for so long, and so have you.
Before long you're a tangle of arms and legs in the backseat. Someone might find you but that prospect turns you on more than you initially thought. Your stockings and panties are pulled off and your skirt is hitched up now.
Mark hovers over you.
"Can I touch you?" he murmurs, his half-lidded eyes flick over your body.
You try to close your legs, embarrassed about being observed like this. But Mark just parts your legs with a hand, "You're so beautiful. Can I?"
You nod, you're so wet and you want to feel Mark inside you, you've needed it for so long.
Mark finds your clit easily, rubbing at it slowly but it's enough to make you wriggle underneath him.
Mark leans down to kiss you hungrily. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he continues circling your clit, faster now. You moan into the kiss and Mark bites your lip gently again. That habit he had which drove you crazy.
He breaks the kiss, still touching you and looking at you intently.
"You're so wet, do you want me that bad?" Mark teases.
You bite your lip, bucking your hips up to meet his fingers.
Mark massages you in quick circular motions. You can only focus on the sensation now, coming closer to your orgasm. Nothing matters anymore, not Mark observing your body, not the possibility of being caught by someone, nothing at all.
"Mark, Mark - please," you moan.
"Mmm?" he asks, smirking slightly.
"I want you to fuck me," you murmur, suddenly losing all inhibitions.
"But we're in public," Mark's eyes widen and you realize he's teasing you.
"Please, please fuck me, Mark."
You've never seen Mark like this before, so in control of the situation and you feel disorientated because of it.
Mark takes a condom out of his pocket then and tears it open with his mouth.
He pulls his jeans and boxers down, rolling the condom over his length. As he touches himself to adjust the condom, he suddenly looks more like his nervous, boyish self. He concentrates when he's horny and you realize how cute it is.
"I need you now, please," you whisper, feeling increasingly needy.
Mark is so soft for you, you can tell by the sudden redness of his cheeks, the begging turns him on.
"Please, Mark," you mewl, scratching lightly at his left arm propping him up over you.
Mark positions the tip against your center and you whimper at the sudden contact.
"What would the others say if they saw us like this?" Mark says.
"I don't care," you whisper, feeling even more turned on by the thought. You're not doing anything inherently bad but Mark is still your intern. Why did bad things always feel so good?
Mark’s pupils are dilated as he leans over to kiss you again, and then he slips into you without warning. You feel yourself tighten around his dick and he feels it too because he's groaning.
"Oh my god, y/n, you feel so fucking good," he moans into your mouth.
“Better than the last person you fucked in here?” you murmur.
Mark is taken aback but he clearly likes the jealous tone. He bites his lip and nods “Much better, you’re so hot, y/n.”
Mark fucks you gently, moving inside you with slow movements. His breathing hitches and he closes his eyes momentarily. 
"Mark faster," you plead, your voice filled with innocence.
Mark puts a hand on your thigh and the other grabs at your boob as he starts thrusting into you harder.
"Mm fuck," you moan, feeling him hit your sweet spot.
"D-Do you like that?" Mark whispers and you can't even nod in response. You just know he feels so good.
“Who do you think of when you touch yourself?” Mark pants between groans. So he’s thinking two can play at that game. 
“Ah - it’s you, I think of you Mark,” you moan.
He licks his fingers before placing them on your clit and rubbing once more. The combination makes you a moaning mess and you can't think of anything but your approaching orgasm.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks.
“My god, Mark” is all you can manage. 
Mark's strokes get sloppy and he has to grip at your waist with one of his hands to keep steady. Your bodies are both damp with sweat, the leather seats of Mark's car underneath you are wet. You want to melt into Mark, you want to feel like this forever.
It doesn't take you long to orgasm. With a few more slow strokes and a rub of your clit, you pulsate around Mark's dick.
"Mark, I'm  - fuck" you moan, shuddering violently with every pulse.
"You feel so fucking good," Mark grunts and his praise is enough for you to tighten around him once more. He thrusts again, groaning in your ear before he empties himself into the condom. You feel his dick twitch inside of you and pull his neck down for another kiss.
It's sloppy and needy, your tongues against each others in desperation. When Mark breaks the kiss, he collapses on top of you breathing heavily. You both lie there, trying to catch your breath. Mark's dick is still inside of you though and you can feel the warmth of it and the now filled condom.
"Shouldn't we throw the condom out?" you whisper, stroking the back of his neck.
"I like this feeling, though. Can't we just stay like this for a while?" he says and you feel shy knowing he's still inside of you, that he likes the feeling of you.
"I don't think I can keep away from you," Mark whispers into your hair.
"Me neither," you say as he props his head up to look in your eyes.
"You know yesterday I asked if you cared if people at work knew about us - did you really mean that? That you don't care?" he asks, his eyes are wide like a puppy’s and you know you're too far gone, you want Mark to be yours.
"I don't care at all, Mark", you say, stroking his hair and then his cheek.
"I'm gonna pull out now," Mark chuckles, pulling himself out of you and taking the condom off.
He pulls his boxers and jeans up and you do the same, adjusting yourself into a sitting position.
Mark opens the car to dispose of the condom. Luckily it isn't as busy as you thought outside thanks to the uninviting winter cold and darkness.
As you both get back into the front seats, you look in the mirror, fixing your hair but not bothering with your makeup, which has sweated off completely.
Mark turns to look at you, "You look beautiful, y/n. Seriously."
"Anyway why did you ask me if I care or not?" you ask, trying to change the subject because you're blushing too hard now.
Mark drives away from the parking lot and back towards Incheon bridge.
His eyes are focused on the road but you know he's thinking of what to say next. 
"I was just wondering, well, if I can see you again tomorrow. For a proper date?" Mark asks.
"We did go on a proper date, Mark, we ate seafood and walked on the beach. I loved it," you say.
Mark bites at his lip. He looks nervous as if everything he's done with you so far has lead up to this moment.
"I can't lie, I really like you. Like to the point where I want to be around you all the time," Mark murmurs and his face is going bright red again.
Your stomach is fluttering from the sudden confession and you're can't look at his face anymore. You press for him to go on, though.
"Mmm?"
"Being able to talk about normal shit, do normal things, it's made me realize how much I enjoy spending time with you. I don't even want to drop you off tonight."
He clears his throat, "I think I've fallen for you, y/n. I know I sound stupid but you wanted to hear it. I like you and you don't have to accept it, we can go back to work and forget this ever happened, go back to norm-"
"Mark," you cut him off, "I like you too. I've liked you for ages, I just didn't want to be the first to admit it."
"Why?" Mark chuckles, his eyes wide. He looks genuinely taken aback.  
"You're my intern! Why would I confess first? That wouldn't be professional," you laugh.
"Well we're past professional now," Mark admits, "But if anyone asks, I can just say I've been giving you a helping hand." He winks then and you can’t believe how easily you’ve fallen for this dork.
As you drive across Incheon bridge back to Seoul, you look out of the window and see the same stretch of sea that you saw on the way there. Except this time, the sea is not a glittering blue, it's black, barely noticeable against the wintry evening sky. The passage of time in Mark's company comforted you, it reaffirmed how much you wanted to see each subtle change of the world with him.
"And to be honest, I don't care if anyone at work knows. It's better if they do know we like each other," Mark says quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke yours instinctually.
"Yeah, they've probably guessed already. I don't mind though, half of them are fucking anyway."
Mark laughs at your candidness. "For real though, the number of times I've seen Jaemin and Jeno come out of the unused toilet together is crazy."
"Don't forget Lucas and Mina in the stock cupboard," you point out, giggling.
"We're going to have to find our own spot before they're all taken up," Mark says, his tongue poking at his cheek. He was such a tease.
You could see the first few stars sprinkled across the sky through the car windscreen. The rain had cleared and it was one of those beautiful, chilly winter nights. Still, the stars made you feel solitary.
"I don't want to be alone tonight," you admit to Mark quietly. 
Mark nods "I'll stay. So the cinema and aquarium tomorrow, how does it sound?" 
"It sounds lovely," you smile.
You see the city skyline in the distance, nothing more than a cluster of twinkling dots. You're excited, the night is young and filled heavy with promise.
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mercurytrinemoon · 4 years ago
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On houses, house rulerships & how ya'll should stop associating them with signs + a rant on the meaning of the 8th house
This is one of those moments where I'm going to say (read: rant, so heads up, I may sound pretentious) that modern times keep distorting astrology. I’m talking about associating houses with signs/planets (aka the “12 letter alphabet”, briefly mentioned by William Lilly in the 17th century but ultimately it became a product of modern astrologers: first attempted by Alan Leo and decades later popularized and named by Zip Dobyns). Can we just... use a neuralyzer and make people forget that method? It's ingrained in people's minds because, seemingly, it's easier to learn that way - search astro basics in google and you'll see things like "9th house=Sagittarius=Jupiter". This compressed version of astrology seems more accessible and easily digestible for a casual reader and not many newbies try to even question that approach. But there's a reason reputable astrologers these days are trying to erase it from everyone's minds. Signs are traits, planets are vessels, houses are areas of life. Houses are a completely different thing + every person has their own chart with their own house rulers. You can't say Mars is the “natural” ruler of the 1st... well unless, of course, you're an Aries rising, then yeah, your 1st is ruled by Mars, 2nd by Venus and so on.
Sure, some houses share accidental similarities with planets that have been assigned to them by modern *cough*lazy*cought* approach. Example, the 3rd rules communication... oh and so does Mercury. But then again, Mercury has nothing to do with health, injuries, work - all things 6th house. 7th is relationships and 2nd is money & values... and it so happens that Venus shows our attitude towards these things. I would sometimes find myself loosely refer houses to planets, like “oh the 3rd mercurial house” just because SOME of them do fit with the characteristics... and because it's a language that is well-understood (I won't do that anymore). BUT even when I started learning astrology, I had a red light go on in my head when people would straight up go "Moon in Virgo or Moon in the 6th". It never made sense to me. These are completely different things. And I've seen some awesome astrologers who would state things like "oh Aquarius Sun is basically the same as Sun in the 11th", like nah, dude. Because why? Aquarius is the friendly type and the 11th rules friends? Because Aquarius is the big innovator and 11th stands for hopes and dreams? But Aquarius is also a rebel who's stiff in their beliefs. Aquarius is a weirdo, is the 11th house the house of weirdos? No. Aquarius likes to be independent and usually has issues with feeling of not belonging anywhere, while 11th rules communities. THAT'S CONTRADICTORY. Because they're not the same.
Want more examples? Having Venus in Aries is completely different than Venus in the 1st. What do people usually say about Venus in the 1st? That it makes the native charming, lovely, well-put together, with great manners, maybe beautiful, graceful, maybe a bit shallow. When in Aries? None of these characteristics fit, on top of that, it's in its detriment. Our poor gal Venus is uncomfortable and confused in Aries. She's like, "conquer? Swords? Selfishness? Obnoxiousness? Sparring? You're telling me to fight people? What am I doing here???" 
I think it most shows in the 8th house, which... *deep breath* has gone through so much (ironically since it rules transformation), like, there's a lot to unpack here. "tHe sCorPioNic HoUse": tell me in what way does Scorpio have to do with inheritance, death, taxes, other people's stuff? These are the og topics associated with the 8th house. And by the way, it doesn't have to be a material inheritance, because I saw people being confused by that. You can have your 10th house ruler in the 8th so maybe you'll inherit that job as a chairman in your father's corporation, along with its renowned name. Or your 6th house ruler is in the 8th so you'll inherit a genetic health condition from your parent. 
Now, modern astrology, as per usual, tried to turn it into something positive (and psychological because apparently according to modern notion, astrology can’t predict anything so it’s only psychological *eye roll*) and put its rose-colored glasses on it so they'll say things like: transformation or taboo topics - like okay, makes sense, it's an intense house after all. Like a near-death experience or a metaphorical death will be transformative and maybe hard to talk about. And Scorpios do have the tendency to go through drastic situations in their lives and to dig deep & not being afraid to uncover secrets and all that's unknown and scary for others. There you have it, some convergence. But still, Scorpio and the 8th house are two different things.
Then there's the topic of the 8th house and sex. Actually, side note, a quick history bit, the 2nd century astrologer, Vettius Valens saw sex in the 7th house - because that was the thing that happened after marriage - it represented two people coming together. In medieval times it then moved to 5th house of kids - because children-making requires intercourse, duh. Listen, I get that the 8th, as the follow-up to the 7th, is seen as joined resources; and joined everything, including bodies... or bodily fluids... (tmi?) after you get married or whatever. I don't think that makes sense in the modern times. I mean, go ahead if you want to associate the 8th with sex but after some time of studying astrology, I see it almost exclusively in the 5th as it's the house of pleasures. Simply. Besides, technically you can get yourself off and don’t need anyone else to assist you. My issue, again, comes from the root of the association with the 8th. Modern astrologers started linking 8th with Pluto and Scorpio in medical astrology rules reproductive system and so Scorpio is seen as the fReAky sEx dEMon blAh blaH (honestly, try asking Scorpios about their intimate life and they'll run for the hills abashed). So it turned out that 8th house is the "plutonian one" (I had a moment today wondering if it's plutonian or plutonic and idk anymore) so therefore it must rule sex. Well that logic doesn't make sense because everyone knows that the first and most important planet in the matters of sex is Mars but none of ya'll go and say "1st house is the house of sex because it's ruled by Aries". So no, houses are not the same as signs/planets.
12th house has a similar issue. This one has literally nothing to do with Pisces. Like, I feel bad for Pisces honestly, you guys don’t deserve being dumped into the 12th. It's a rather gloomy house and the most positive thing you could come up with it is being the house of imagination and intuition - because it rules the subconscious and partially your mind. And Pisces is usually characterized by those two. Or you could say that they're both kinda foggy in nature - 12th is the unattainable. But that is literally the closest you can get with them correlating. Other than that, 12th is hidden enemies, succlusion, illness (but mental or chronic, it's a bit different than 6th). There's nothing piscean about it really.
But I get it, open most of the astrology books and you'll see chapters called that way. Why? Because it's easier to publish something that's shorter aka simpler for the reader (actually that was one of Dobyns' reasoning behind spreading that approach). That’s why I said it’s lazy. And someone would argue that it’s easier to learn this way - because the information is compressed into 12 sections (signs) instead of 24 (signs+houses) or even more if you include delineations of every house ruled by each sign. Like, “well if I memorize the meaning of Cancer and Moon then automatically I’ll also memorize the 4th house”. But in fact, it’s so limiting in the long run and then forces you to unlearn what you have learnt, which is actually harder than taking the time and grasping the proper meaning right away. And again, with time it warps the meaning of everything.
Saying house=sign completely discredits the purpose of even having houses. And then on top of that it leads to people not understanding their own charts because they don't know the core meanings of the houses and instead look at them through the lens of signs. "I have planets in Gemini but I'm not that talkative and extroverted". Well okay, where are those planets? Are they in the 7th? Then maybe they're not talking about you but about people you come in contact with? Are they in the 4th? Well maybe it's your fam that has those qualities? The 11th? Are your friends like that? Houses are areas of your life, you can't say "Moon in the 3rd or Moon in Gemini" - Moon is "how", house is "where" - these are not the same things, even if they have a few traits in common. 
Ok, rant over, bye.
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dameronology · 4 years ago
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one hell of a mandalorian {din djarin}
summary: actions speak louder than words - which is good for din djarin, because he's not very good at words. (this was a commission for an anon! i hope you enjoy).
warnings: language
enjoy!! if you're interested in commissions, you can find out more here :)
- jazz xx
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Din Djarin was a man of few words.
That had become clear not long after you'd met.
It wasn't that he didn't like talking, or that he was rude - he'd just never had the need for it. The Mandalorian could spend days and days in hyperspace, on his own with nothing but a frozen bounty to keep him company. And they were hardly chatty, even before they were thrown away into the trawling depths of carbonite animation. There were a few select geniuses who tried to make conversation with him in a last-ditch attempt to appeal to his humanity and beg for mercy, but so far, they'd had a zero-for-zero success rate. It wasn't that he didn't have any humanity to appeal to it - because he did, and his weird, green surrogate kid was an absolute testament to that - but it just took a little bit for it to come out.
The beskar made him seem a little...robotic. Like a droid, which was ironic, because he wouldn't have gone near the things with a ten-foot-barge pole. Din had just become so used to people seeing his mask and his intimidating posture before him that having human traits, like feelings and thoughts and opinions, had never been any use. Having defining traits and a personality was all well and good, but nothing helped you through the galaxy quite like the ability to put the fear of God in people.
The Mandalorian was something, but Din Djarin was somebody. He was good; not necessarily pure and golden-hearted like a typical comic book hero, but he had a strong moral compass. Sometimes, it pointed in opposite directions, but he helped those who needed it and he paid his dues. That was probably a lot more than anyone in the galaxy could have said for themselves. In the fight of good and bad, in a world that existed entirely and black and white, there was nothing more grey than an honest man. Somebody who refused to pick a side held the power of both. For that, Din could have either been extremely smart, or extremely dumb.
Sometimes, he was extremely dumb. Made the wrong moves in combat, or got too cocky, however out of character it was for him. It was the losing fights that truly brought out the human side of Din, and it took a very, very specific eye to see it, sometimes to the point where even he missed it. It never went over your head, though.
You'd joined the crew on the Razor Crest as a mechanic - then you became a baby sitter, and his partner-in-crime, and the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend. His non-verbal nature meant that most of his emotional cues came in the physical form. It went over the heads of everybody else, but between your intuition, and the time spent in such a cramped space, it quickly became like a second language to you. Helmet tilts when he was confused, and little nods when he was pleased; tensed shoulders when the Mandalorian was nervous and balled fists when he was about to absolutely lose his shit.
Today was one of those days. Even though you were both in one piece and the baby was - by some absolute fucking miracle - asleep, it almost hadn't been that way. Nevarro had been quieter than usual, and Din had let his guard down; finally convinced himself to relax a tiny bit and ever-so-slightly loosen the stick that was firmly up his backside. His sudden lack of awareness for your surroundings had meant that someone managed to track the Crest, however briefly. The kid had barely noticed, and you weren't phased by what had been a simple, human mistake. Din, true to nature, was already beating himself up for it.
That was evidenced by his heavy footsteps, and the way he'd immediately retreated to the cockpit and slammed the door. Common sense would have entailed that he wanted to be left alone, but you'd long surpassed the point of any of that. Common sense didn't exist in a galaxy like this one. Doing the obvious thing was, nine times out of ten, usually the wrong way. Expecting the unexpected was the right way to go.
You'd paced outside the door for the better part of fifteen minutes - to go in, or to not go in, that was the question. You were torn between wanting to give Din space and wanting to be there for him; a cranky Din was often an unbearable one, but you cared deeply for him. Maybe a little too much, but that was a can of worms to open later.
"Din?" You gently called. Nothing. "I know you're brooding, or whatever it is you do under that helmet, but talking is good."
"I'm fine."
You sighed. "The scale goes great, good, bad, awful, world-ending and then fine."
"I've never heard that before in my life."
"Yeah, I just made it up on the spot." You murmured.
Resting your hand against the doorknob, you pondered for a moment. Did you want to risk it by going in? Making him mad when he was literally shutting you out? It was hard to know what to do with Din - it wasn't like he came with an answer key, or even a vague manual that could point you in the right direction. It was all just guess work.
"Is the helmet on?" You softly asked.
"Yeah."
You took that as a sign - with a deep breath, you gently opened the door and stepped inside the cockpit, shutting it quietly behind you. The tense atmosphere inside was almost enough to swallow you whole. The man practically radiated angst.
"Talk to me." You took a seat beside him.
"There's nothing to say."
"Bullshit." You murmured. "You might have a thousand inches of beskar hiding your face but your body language is a dead giveaway."
"I'm meant to protect you and the kid." He replied. It wasn't much, but it was better than silence. "It's my job to catch bad people and outrun them when I need."
"You did outrun them." You reminded him. "I'm safe. You're safe. The kid is safe. Does anything else matter?"
"It shouldn't have happened in the first place." Din said. "I was relaxed-"
"- you allowed to relax." You cut him off. "Despite your best efforts, you're a human being."
Reaching out, you gently placed your hand over Din's ungloved palm. He didn't resist or try to brush you away. His hands were soft and callous in equal measures, which felt like a fitting metaphor for him on the whole. You tangled your fingers in his and held on tightly, perhaps in a sad attempt to remind him that you were there.
But Din knew you were there - he could feel it constantly, and he thought about it just as much. Every day of his life prior to you had been filled with rigidity and angst, then you'd come waltzing in and for the first time in years, he'd untensed his muscles and stopped looking over his shoulder. Learnt to take a breath and enjoy the simple things in life, like Grogu laughing or you accidentally tripping over a tree branch. You'd become so important to him that the prospect of losing you was too much for him to even fathom. He'd come close today - too close - and it had been an eye-opener. The irony was that telling you why he was so fucking scared was more frightening than the entire thing itself.
"Don't be so hard on yourself." The gentle pull of your voice lulled him back to reality. "Please?"
His grip on your hand tightened. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay." You breathily smiled. "You don't have to apologise."
"I never thought I'd have someone like you." Din admitted. "Coming so close to losing you was terrifying, even if it wasn't that close at all."
He'd never been so open about his feeling towards you before. Obviously, you knew that he viewed you in a way he didn't see anybody else, but that knowledge had been based entirely on physical cues and mere guesswork. You'd never expected him to vocalise the way he felt, or even acknowledge them. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, or even something you considered to be detrimental. The words came as a nice surprise.
"You mean a lot to me, Din." You said. He'd always loved the way his name sounded when you said it; nobody had used it for years, not since he'd lost his parents. It was something to vulnerable and personal. You were the only one he trusted with it.
"I do?"
You didn't mean to laugh at that - you really didn't, but it just came out. A low snort of disbelief; shock at his absolute inability to read the fucking room. Din was as intuitive as they came, with the ability to read criminals like a bedtime story he'd been rehearsing since he was a kid. Then it came to you, and he knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. To call him clueless would be the understatement of the century.
"Maker." You murmured. "Of course you do - more than anyone or anything."
"You're special to me." Din replied. "It scares me sometimes."
Din was straight forward with everything he said - it was just finding the courage to say it. He'd gone into battle with Imps and Republic Rangers alike; fought krayt dragons and droids and fellow Mandalorians and yet this entire thing shook him to his very core more than anything else.
You didn't know it, but you were perfectly holding his gaze. Staring right through it and looking right into his soul. He forgot he had one sometimes. It was probably a little dusty and covered in cobwebs, but it was there, and you were bringing it right out of him and back to reality.
Din used his grip on your hands to pull you a little closer - a moment later, he gently pressed the cold metal of his helmet to his forehead. It was the closest you'd ever been to him, even if it wasn't that close at all. You could hear his soft breathing through the modulator, the sensation acting as a stunning reminder that there was a person underneath there. There were times when you forgot, or felt a little disconnected from the idea entirely. You'd never felt the need to see his face, though - you hadn't a clue what he might look like, but at the same time, you had an image of him in your head. It was as clear as day; as bright as the suns on Tatooine and as persevering as the kid's insistence that he receive all your attention, all the time.
You knew what the action was; a Keldabe kiss. The Mandalorian had recounted its meaning to you not long after you'd met - he'd finally let his barriers down and let you plague him with questions about his culture and the creed, and you'd stumbled on the subject. Initially, you'd been entertained by the fact that it two such vastly different meanings. On one hand, it could be a headbutt. A beskar punch to knock the daylights out of anyone who particularly annoyed you. On the other hand, it was almost a romantic gesture; a way that Mandalorians could show their affection to one another without having to remove their armour.
Din had the latter meaning in mind, but also so much more. He was giving you a piece of his culture - including you in the very thing that defined him as a person.
"It won't happen again." The Mandalorian gently said. "I'll never let you get hurt again. I promise."
"I know." You softly smiled. Your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the cool metal against your forehead. "For what it's worth, I have your back too."
He softly chuckled. "Thank you."
You gently pulled back, eyes meeting again (not that you could tell).
"Seriously!" You said. "I can be a bad-ass."
"You can be a lot of things." Din replied. "You're one hell of a girl."
"And you're one hell of a Mandalorian."
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didsomeonesaydaddydraco · 4 years ago
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Jealous | Draco Malfoy (prompt request)
Request: yes, by anon. Anon requested the following: Hiii! Could I please request a Draco Malfoy x reader with prompts 5,14,15 ? Fluffy 🥺🥺with a hint of angst if you can X)
Word count: 3,342
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader
Note: My requests are still open, but before you request from the prompt list, please check out the updated version. Thank you so much!
Draco Malfoy was a little bit possessive when I came to his group of friends. He had troubles with trusting someone, and getting attached to them, but when he did, all his insecurities came out. His trust issues were paired with the constant fear of losing those people, but instead of telling them how he felt, he chose the easier way and hid his feelings and fears behind the mask of an arrogant son of a bitch. He was overprotective, but supportive, jealous and hot-headed, and on top of them, stubborn as hell. Only a few people were willing to give him enough time to prove that he was actually a nice person, who was only misunderstood and troubled when it came to talking about feelings or letting his guards down. He was popular, but not for what he really was. He was well-known for being a bully, an arrogant twat, an overdramatic troublemaker and the biggest hater of mudbloods. Only his closest friends knew the real Draco Lucius Malfoy, and he was fine by that. He always thought quality was way more important than quantity. He might have thought of himself as someone who was hard to read, but in reality, it wasn’t that hard. Not for Theodore Nott. Theo was his third closest friend, being behind only Y/N Y/L/N and Blaise Zabini. While Draco went to Blaise for the fun things, like pranking the Golden Trio, throwing a secret party in the Room of Requirements or just chilling somewhere with a bottle of Fire Whiskey, he chose Theo for be his emotional support and moral compass. And he gladly took up this role, especially because he had a gut feeling that his dear friend developed deeper and more serious feelings towards their one and only Miss Y/L/N.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” Theo asked Draco one day, when they were sitting in their Common Room, working on a DADA project together. Theo found him staring and smiling at Y/N, who was sitting at the other side of the room with her friends, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, doing each other’s hair and makeup. The girls told them in the morning that they were tired of only wearing their uniforms and boring hairstyles, and they wanted to look like themselves again. The boys didn’t understand them, but they came up with the sad excuse of having too much homework and studying, so they didn’t have to participate in their afternoon program. 
“What?” Draco asked him, but never turned his gaze away from the girl, who was sitting on the ground in front of Pansy, getting her hair curled. Theo chuckled and turned his attention to their friends as well. He saw why Malfoy was so fascinated by her. Y/N was one of the most beautiful girls at Hogwarts, if not the most. Her hair was always shiny, her makeup natural but immaculate. She had an amazing style and she always smelt like jasmine and vanilla. But it was her smile that so many boys fell for. It was beautiful and bright, could make everyone’s day better. 
“You know what I’m talking about” he rolled his eyes and turned back to his book “Dray, you’re in love with her” 
“No, of course I’m not” he tried to deny, but the blush on his cheeks said otherwise. Draco sighed at the sight of Y/N in her spring dress and curly hair. She looked amazing, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she had her eyes on someone. They had known each other for years, she was still nice to him when he was an annoying rat at first grade, and she was one of his real friends. They spent so much time together, it was literally impossible for Draco to imagine his days without her. He saw her getting a crush from time to time, but they passed just as quickly as they came. He even saw her falling in love with Adrian Pucey, and he was by her side when they broke up. It was a mutual decision. After a year and a half of complete confusing for Draco, he felt relieved when she said they decided with Adrian to stay just friends, because they weren’t working as a couple anymore. Draco knew from then that it wasn’t just a friendly love anymore. He knew why he was always so moody and needy during the time of their dating. He hated to see him holding her hand, hugging and kissing her in the corridors. He realised he wanted to be the one who did those things to her. If he learnt only one thing from his father, it was how to treat a woman right. He was Lucius still surprising Narcissa with flowers and dates, just to keep the smile on her face. He saw the love they had, even though what his family’s secret was. And he wanted that. Draco wanted to put a single white rose on her desk before class, just to see that beautiful smile on her face. He wanted to hug her in their sleep, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and hear her giggle when he tickled her. He wanted to kiss her perfect lips and show her how much she means to him.
“Than I guess you don’t mind that George asked her out after Potions today” Theo said, knowing very well he hit a nerve with that. If it wouldn’t have been enough that someone had the audacity to ask her out before Draco finally get the courage to do that, it had to be a Weasley. He was well aware of how Draco felt towards them, and how he wanted only the best for her. He said so many times, that she deserved a pureblood Slytherin who could identify and maintain the lifestyle she grew up with. Theo knew Draco was actually talking about himself, and he was sure he was the guy who could actually make her the happiest, but it wasn’t his place to get them together. They had to realise on their own how they were feeling. He knew the unspoken rules of both families, how they preferred another Pureblood, preferably a Slytherin marrying their only child, but Y/N never really cared about blood status. She knew they were all equal, some of them not fortunate enough to be born in a rich family. 
“He did what?” Draco almost yelled, and his sudden outburst of emotion brought the girls’ attention to their table. Y/N looked at him with raised eyebrows, asking him without words what the hell was going on. He only shook his head and sent a small smile toward her. He felt sick by the single thought of a Weasley having an arm around her.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Theo laughed and leaned back in his chair. He watched Draco’s face with an amused look. It was funny to see the always pale boy with red cheeks and even more furrowed eyebrows. Draco looked at his friend with an annoyed expression and picked up his quill. He wanted to deny it, but the feeling was too strong. He just recently learnt what jealous really felt, and he was battling with that feeling. He hated to admit that he got a soft sport for someone, and how he got jealous. He was jealous of someone else having Y/N’s attention. Not because he was needy or insecure. If he was sure about someone’s unconditional love, support and loyalty, it was her. He just didn’t want someone else to realise how amazing she was and for them to steal her away from him. He just didn’t want to lose her to someone else. She was his peace.
“I’m not jealous” he murmured and from the corner of his eyes, he checked her. She was looking at her dress in the mirror, twirling around to see how the dress hugged her body. Draco felt the oh so familiar warm feeling in his heart when he saw her. He didn’t care what she was wearing, she looked absolutely amazing in everything. Just as he opened his mouth to tell Theo to go back studying, Y/N skipped to them with a huge smile on her face.
“Hi, boys” she greeted them sweetly and stood by Draco’s side. He took a deep breathe, letting her sweet scent fill up his nose “So, I have plans for now, but Pansy and I were wondering if you two wanted to go the Hogsmeade tomorrow, to buy some things for Blaise’s surprise party”
“What about Daphne?” Theo asked, hoping the girl had other plans. They never liked each other, and only tried to get along, when they were with their group. Y/N laughed, and assured him it would only be the four of us. The boys looked at each other, both of them thinking the same thing. Maybe they could turn the shopping into a double date at the Three Broomsticks. Theo wasn’t the only one who caught on the secret glances, the moodiness when Pansy was talking to another boy. Draco knew very well Nott fancied the Parskinson girl, but was too intimidated to ask her out. 
“Sounds good to me” Draco smiled at her and put his hand on the small of her back, stroking it with his thumb. He smiled even bigger when he saw the light blush on her cheeks “Maybe we could get a few drinks at the Three Broomsticks?”
“Amazing idea” she bleamed at them “Alright, I have to go now, or I’ll be late, but we’ll discuss the details later” 
“Bye, darling” Draco said with a soft tone and watched as she hurried out of the Common Room. For a second he forgot where she was heading. For that second, he was happy and warmed by their small encounter. 
“Bye, darling” Nott mocked him in a teasing tone. He would have laughed at him, if he wasn’t already making plans in his head for tomorrow. The four of them always had the best time, and he was really looking forward to spend some time with Pansy and watch how his friends were acting around each other, like they weren’t secretly already in love.
“Shut up” Draco throw a ball of paper at him and turned back to his essay. He wanted to finish it, so he didn’t have to worry about it and rush back from their day together just to finish it in time for class. 
——
Draco wanted to stay in the Common Room and wait for Y/N  to come back, but he had Quiditch practise so he had to leave. He tried his best to shut her out of his mind during practice, but it was impossible after he saw Y/N and George in the courtyard, sitting together and giggling at something. Draco couldn’t erase the picture from his memory, and his anger got the best of him. Flint shouted at him several times to get his shit together and focus on the game, but he couldn’t. He wanted to go back and punch the Weasley boy in the face for being so close to his girl. Unfortunately, it would have been weird, considering that she was only his in his mind. The way she giggled and how interested she looked by George hunted him during practise. His stomach dropped at the thought of someone else having her. Draco was glad when Flint said they should cut their practice short due to raining. He wanted to be back in his dorm room, sulking over how much of a coward he was for not making a move on her. And now, he had to watch her falling in love with someone else. Again.
He was rushing back to the Slytherin Common Room, basically running down the corridors, when he saw Y/N and Weasley standing under the arcade, still talking about something. He felt like he was stabbed, when he saw Y/N wearing George’s jacket. He slowed down his steps, watching them waiting for the rain to stop. He waited for something. He couldn’t tell why he was being a masochistic. Maybe if he saw them kissing, or holding hands, it could have helped him to move on. But it never happened. He heard the Weasley boys quiet voice thanking her for meeting up and a quick goodbye before he rushed through the courtyard. Y/N adjusted the  jacket on her shoulder and took a few quick steps, but Draco was fast in her heals. He didn’t know what had gotten into him, he just wanted to let out everything. He wanted her so bad, and he wished that he was what she wanted, and not someone else. 
“Y/N” he called after her. She stopped in her steps and turned around. Y/N arched her eyebrow, wondering what Draco was doing outside in such a bad weather. He hated when his hair got wet, and he hated it even more if one of his expensive shoes got dirty because of the mud “What are you wearing?”
She was surprised by the envy and anger in his voice. Draco never talked to her like that before. She never gave him reason to. He was just fine a couple hours earlier when they were talking about their Saturday plans with Theo and Pansy, so his sudden mood swing confused her. 
“Uhm” she played with the sleeve of the jacket, not being entirely sure what to say “It started raining and I was a bit cold, so Georgie offered me his jacket so I don’t het sick”
“Georgie?” He basically spat the name out of his mouth “Now what? Are you two giving each other bloody nicknames?”
“What the hell got into you, Draco?” She asked. Y/N knew that Draco found the Weasley twins the least annoying out of their family, and something laughed at their pranks “It was a nice gesture”
“A gesture to get into your panties” Draco almost yelled. He wasn’t mad at her. He wasn’t even mad at George for being a man enough to ask her out. He was mad at himself for being scared of his own feelings. 
“Fuck you, Draco” she scoffed and turned around to leave, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Y/N groaned. She was annoyed by him, and didn’t want to deal with his possessiveness in the pouring rain. Her clothes and hair was all wet, and she was craving for a hot shower and some more comfortable clothes.
“No, fuck you” he was now shouting. He was done with hiding his feelings and seeing how every boy at Hogwarts could have had her, because she was single “Fuck you for liking every boy more, but me. Fuck you for not noticing how hard I’m trying to get your attention. Fuck you for not seeing how much effort I’m putting into this whole thing just to make you see what’s right in front of you” he was pouring his heart out in the rain. It could have been one of the most romantic things, if they weren’t at the verge of arguing, and they weren’t shouting at each other. Draco dropped his head with a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to see the disgust or hate on her face “I shouldn’t be jealous, you aren’t even mine”
“What are you talking about?” She was more confused than ever before. Her heart skipped a beat with every word that left Draco’s mouth. She hoped his feelings were true. She wondered how he could be so blind all this time. How he didn’t see the way she looked at him? How he didn’t feel her hugs were always longer and tighter when she hugged him? How could he not tell he was her soft spot? “Draco?”
“It doesn’t matter. I hope your date was fun” his words were soaked with envy. Y/N’s eyes widened what he said. Date? 
“What date?” She laughed a little bit “I only met Georgie because he needed help with something. He has a huge crush on this Hufflepuff girl, Annah, and asked me to give him some good date ideas”
“You were never supposed to mean this much to me” he said like he didn’t hear what she just told him “I was never supposed to fall so hard. But you know what? I did and that’s the truth” Draco looked at her with hopeful eyes. Maybe they could have a chance “Don’t you see, Y/N?” He laughed dryly. It was pathetic how he was being a softie. He hated how vulnerable he felt, standing in front of her, wearing his heart on his sleeve, confessing his love to the girl who was probably thinking of him just as a good friend “I don’t want anyone else to have your heart, kiss your lips, or be in your arms, because that’s only my place”
There it was. All words said. No taking them back. Draco finally felt proud of himself for being brave enough and facing his emotions and feelings. 
Y/N bleamed at the words. He said what she wanted to hear from him for so long. Her heart was beating in her throat and she felt like no breathe would have been enough for her. She couldn’t say anything. Her words were stuck in her. How could she say something as beautiful as he did? Those were a little bit harsh words, but meant more than the most beautiful love poem in the whole world. 
“Kiss me you twat” she laughed and took a step closer to Draco, who was still in shock after just confessing everything that he felt. He couldn’t even understand what she asked him, because his mind was numb. He saw her lips moving and feeling her sweet scent in his nose again, but he couldn’t tell what he was supposed to do. Y/N caught him off guard when she grabbed his jumper and pulled him into a kiss. At first, he didn’t kiss back. His body couldn’t understand a single thing that was happening right there, and he just stood there. But his brain switch back on again, when he felt her pulling away. He dreamed of this moment so many times. He tried to imagine how soft her lips were and how she tasted. He always imagined if she tasted like her favourite peppermint gum. But he never thought their kiss would be like this. He melted into her lips and his heart skipped every second beat. Draco had his arms around her small body, keeping her close, not letting her go. He wanted to stay like that for eternity, with the girl of his dreams in his arms, kissing her and feeling her heartbeat against his chest. 
“You know” he murmured in between kisses “I wanted to beat the shit out of that blood traitor, when he…” he couldn’t finish his sentence, because Y/N put her hand over his mouth to silence him.
“Of course you wanted, boo” she cued at him with a funny expression “You can tell me more about how you wanted to, but for now, let’s go back to the Common Room and just cuddle”
“Can I have more kisses?” He asked in a childish voice and wide eyes. She found him the most adorable, yet sexiest man ever. She rolled her eyes and took his hand happily.
“Of course” she giggle, and they ran to the Common Room hand in hand, laughing at each other for almost slipping and falling to the ground. Draco was the happiest, and was ready to show the whole school he was the lucky man who had Y/N Y/L/N’s heart, and they were more than welcome to stay away from his girl if they didn’t want his father to hear about their sad excuse of flirting with her. 
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give-grian-rights · 4 years ago
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CHAPTER TWO HOUR. CHAPTER TWO HOUR. I AM SO TIRED. IT IS 6AM. TELL ME IF HTERE’S TYPOS AND THAT NORMAL STUFF
Bets Against The Void, Chapter 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Whitelist au from @petrichormeraki
Crossposted on AO3
Tubbo quietly chuckled, smiling fondly as their friend squawked indignantly. “Tubbo! I’m serious, explain some shit, fuckin’ nerd!” Tommy scoffed, prodding at their side with his elbow. Tubbo hushed him, their smirk still lingering.
  “Hermitcraft is a super crazy popular server. If you’ve ever searched for examples of builds on your tablet, chances are, they’re from one of the Hermits. Or if you looked up something about redstone! Anything! You’ll find one of their instructions. They’re geniuses- just, complete geniuses. Grian’s one of them-”
  “Grian’s one of them!?” Tommy exclaimed, his eyes shooting open. Tubbo’s grin widened, nodding vigorously. “Yes! He’s the newest Hermit, last I heard.. Most of the guys he’s teammates with every MCC, they’re usually other Hermits!” They’d continue explaining to the best of their ability.
  “Should’ve fuckin’ started with the fact that Grian’s here! That fuckin’ dude! He killed Dream three times! Three times, Tubbo!” The blond continued with his excited shouting. Well, that certainly fixed the situation, Tubbo mused.
  The brunett nodded along, chuckling. “Yeah! He, and most of the others, really- post all that much right now. The new World Client, with the axolotls and caves ‘n stuff? They’ve started posting and sharing discoveries about that.  I know Grian did, at least. But considering they call themselves the ‘Hermits’ it makes sense to be a bit inactive, yeah?” Tubbo shrugged, tapping the chilly cool sandstone beneath them.
  Tommy nodded dumbly, glancing around the room for a moment. Tubbo, meanwhile, had pulled their tablet up. The holographic comm system was displayed infront of them, everything on the screen they touched being read aloud to them.
  Launching an accessibility app, the tablet began describing aloud the block palette, dimensions, and colors. As the tablet’s robotic voice played in his com system, reading aloud the details of his surrounding, Tubbo nodded along to an incoherent rant from Tommy.
Tubbo wasn’t too sure what Tommy was ranting about- likely MCC, and Grian. Grian got a kill on Tommy, last MCC, if they remember correctly.  The brunnett wouldn’t be surprised if that was the target of the blond’s current tangent. Tommy hadn’t even been able to get a word out, when Grian began shouting vigorous apologises between matches.
  The descriptions from the tablet were long, and boring. The robotic voice drawing on and on, as it attempted to describe the intricate room. Shutting down the program, Tubbo tuned back into Tommy. 
  “Fuckin’ am..So fucking tired. Of course we ended up here. It’d be to easy if we’d just be let back into Dream SMP, huh? Think Dream even knew we were out? I bet not. Even if he does, probably didn’t even care, fuckin’ dick. Bet that green asshole’s just sitting over his code and shit, simping over Gogy-” The blond ranted heatedly. The blind teen could hear the shifting and chustling of fabric, before the boy’s voice became muffled.
  With his head pressed against his knees, legs drawn to his chest, Tommy sat there practically panting. His chest heaved, the rage draining from him. “Why is all- all of this, always so complicated, Tubbo?” Blue eyes turned to meet the scarred, burnt front of the other.
  Tubbo picked at faded and torn tennis shoes, tentatively listening. The rymnatic pattern of the boy’s breathing, and the crashing overhead, offered some vague comfort. “All of what?” They’d tilt their head.
  The younger of the two quietly sighed, his mouth pressed in a thin line. His hand clutched the bottom of his torn, tan cargo pants, fidgetting with the frayed ends. “Us. Shit with us, it always gets so fuckin’ complicated. Big Man, you’re president. You’re- you’re the fucking president, now, Tubbo.”
  The bunnett’s brows furrowed together, as they inched closer to their friend. “Yeah. But it’s- it’s still us, y’know? If- if life was easy, then we’d be missing out on a lot of things. What if we had just never met-”
“We’d always meet eachother, Tubbo. There’s no fuckin’ getting rid of me, even in your fantasy world.” The blond nudged the teen’s shoulder, a wolfish grin evident in his tone.
  That made the other crack a smile, shaking their head. “I hope so, Tommy.” They’d chuckle, shaking their head. The weight of the day came crashing down all again. Before the rushing thoughts could boggle down their mind, Tubbo slumped against Tommy’s side sigh an exhausted sigh.
  “This is just, livin’ the fucking life, huh?” Tommy remarked, looking over his friend. The tall boy already shifted himself, his long legs sprawled out on the floor with his back leaned against sandstone walls.
  His head leaned against that of his compaignian, half-lidded blue eyes giving one last surveillance of the room. “We’ll figure this shit out tomorrow..” Tommy mumbled, glancing down at the brunette.
  Tubbo was already asleep, their expression finally one of peace. Tommy wasn’t given a moment more to appreciate the serenity of the quiet room, before he’d be pulled into slumber as well.
  Both of the teens were stirred awake by the whirring noises of an active portal- the Netherportal beside them, with particles flying, gaveway to two players. Tommy kicked himself up to his feet, defensively. Tubbo stumbled along with him, pulling back away from the strangers.
Though two stepped out, only one immediately caught Tommy’s eyes.
  “W- Holy shit!  You’re Grian!” Tommy squawked indignantly.
  Tubbo’s head immediately shot up, excitably breaking into a grin. Any exhaustion the two held was wiped away- neither was sure how long their unrestful sleep had been, but it was far more than other nights. 
  The target of the excitement, Grian, sheepishly stood there, nodding. “Uh, yeah! You guys are Tommy and Tubbo, yeah?  I’ve seen you at most of the MCC’s I’ve been to. You both did really good last time, by the way! I’m really looking forward to the next one!” 
This was easily the closest they probably ever were to the dirty blond. He also looked far more at ease, on this server. The iconic figure, ever-present in the community, had his wild mop of a fringe frazzled and framing his face.
  Poking under the bangs, Tommy could now see faint, ragged lines from a scar, along with other various healed-over wounds. Another contrary to how either of them had seen Grian, at MCC, was the large circular glasses loosely sat on his face.
Seeing one of his heroes like this (The only one that hadn’t betrayed, killed him, turned against him, despised him-) in such a..Domestic state, was bizarre. Tommy was scrambling for words, starting and giving up on getting his tongue around what to say.
  “This is so cool! Hi! I used to watch and- and listen, to a lot of your old build tutorials! A lot of people on our server would always say how we learned building from you!” Tubbo would blurt out, practically bouncing on their heel. Grian turned to the teen, slightly shocked but amused. 
  “Oh! I- well thank you! I’m glad I could be any help at all- my builds are nothing compared to some of what the other Hermits have going on..Speaking of others- this is Stress!” He’d take the opportunity to escape the small spotlight, glancing towards the brunette woman next to him sheepishly.
  The woman- Stress, apparently, quietly chuckled. A fond smile grazed her face, as she looked over towards the two teenagers. “Ello there, Loves! Sorry to interrupt your fan meetup,” She teased, side-eyeing the dirty blond beside her.  “We just wanted to come and check in, is all! X told us two to come visit, yeah?”
  Tommy quietly hummed skeptically,  surveying her. Short brown hair hung barely as low as her shoulder, a neat, white, blue, and pink flower-crown sat upon her head. The colors must’ve been very purposeful, considering they matched with her colorful outfit of the same color.
  “Fine, sure..Well, we’re still fuckin’ breathing, and we’re here. So you don’t really need to be here any longer, yeah?” Tommy scoffed, slumping back against the wall. Tubbo was already standing, nudging at his side. 
  “Thank you, for checking in. I- I’m sure this is a bit of a strange situation. That- Yeah, that’s my bad.” They chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of their neck. This caught Stress’ attention, turning towards the tene.
  “Oh, no! This isn’t a problem at all. Dear, this happens all the time. Grian just- just appeared, one day, in our previous server. We walk out the portal for the first time- and boom! There that weirdo is!” Stress chuckled, her grin unwavering as she gave a playful nudge to the dirty blond beside her.
  Grian scoffed, a smirk edging at his lips as he rolled his eyes. “Okay, but I’m not the only example of that happening- you didn’t have to pick me out specifically!”
  “Sure I do, Love! You’re the first new Hermit to join, after me and Zed! I get to bully you, lovingly!” She cheered. Stress’ energy was absolutely efficacious, Tubbo couldn’t help but smile and cackle at her and Grian’s banter.
“Uh huh,” Grian scoffed, dramatically crossing his arms. “Last I checked, that was Iskall’s job to bully newcomers- oh, Gord, when you all walked out of the portal and they just decked me ? I mean, it didn’t really hurt all that bad, but it’s a matter of the principle!”
  Stress seemed like she was almost gonna break down with laughter, clutching her stomach. “I forgot they did that with you, too! Iskall certainly is one that needs work with their introduction, that absolute weirdo!” She chostled, shaking her head fondly.
  She then turned towards the two teens, reassuringly smiling. “They won’t give you any hard time, they’re just like that sometimes, especially in the beginning of a new season..They’re usually just incomprehensible in the beginning, I learnt!” She giggled, covering her mouth.
  Tubbo awkwardly laughed, nodding. “Yeah- they, they sound like something.” It was..A strange environment, to be sure.
  Sure, they knew of the Hermits, their reputation impossible to avoid- but most outsiders didn’t know much about the actual Hermits. They went by that title for a reason.
  Tommy was having similar thoughts, he felt as if he was completely imposing on, everything. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care- it frankly was..Warming, almost, to see this. He missed being able to have that, on Dream’s server. 
  The blond in particular seemed to have tuned out, because by the time he snapped out of those thoughts, Grian was speaking again.
  “We’re glad to see you’re both alright, but, I don’t think we’ve been exactly great hosts. You both have gotta be hungry- I know the last thing you two seem to want is help, but..We’d be happy to help you however we can.  We can go get you fresh, real food. Or- you both come with us, and we take you to our central area, the Cowmercial district.”
  Tommy stared blankly at Grian for a moment, brows knitted together in bewilderment. “The… Cow..merical district?” He’d repeat, squinting.
  Grian snickered, nodding. “Yeah! The name just stuck. It’s our shopping district. We have a bakery- it’s never, ever too early for cake. There’s Doc’s shop, but that’s all villager-bought, if it’s the rare occasion that it’s stocked at all- so the Bakery may be the only option, for today.” He glanced back at Stress, who nodded in agreement.
  “Only if you’d want to,” Stress would interject. “Either of us could come bring you food here- but, we figured you might want to just..Get out. You’re allowed to leave here whenever you want- but, navigating our server by yourself, for the first time? Not the easiest.”
  The two teens glanced towards eachother. Tubbo looked like they were practically buzzing in place, at the idea of exploring the Hermits’ world. Tommy watched them for a moment, before quietly scoffing.
  “..Yeah, okay, sure- how the hell do we even get out of here though, for starters?” Tommy crossed his arms, inching closer towards Tubbo. He, for one, was really not a fan of having to fly out.
  Stress cheered excitably, pulling open her inventory. The woman promptly dropped a stack each to the two teens. “I came prepared, just in-case!” She grinned. With a swipe of her arm, the digital screen dissipated.
  “If you know how to use elytras, X already said he’s more than happy to lend out two from the back-up system. I have some to spare, as well.  But- you two never seemed the most comfortable in the air, during flight-based games.” Grian would add awkwardly, adjusting his own wings behind him. 
  Tommy didn’t pay much attention to the words- instead, he promptly threw open his inventory, gawking at the full stack of pearls. “What! I don’t think i’ve ever had this many pearls! Holy shit!” He pulled out the stack of sixteen.
  One pearl manifested in his hand, while a holographic icon hovered beside him. The pixel-image of an enderpearl, with a large 15x in the corner in white font was projected for only his vision. The blond couldn’t remember a time he had so many enderpearls.
  “Thank you! Wow- yeah, pearls aren’t really common in our server!  This- this is really nice!” They felt giddy, as they pulled their’s out as well, the action muscle-memory.
  “Well, I’m glad you two can put them to good-use, then!” She chuckled. The idle question of how can a server lack pearls skimming through her head for a moment.
  Within seconds of her saying that, Tommy had already blindly tossed one of his pearls- promptly falling down from the ceiling, and landing on the floor with a short shriek. Tubbo straightened up from the sidelines, tilting their head.
  “Tommy! What did you do?” Tubbo called out accusatorily, as they quickly popped their surrounding descriptor back on.
  “Nothing!” Tommy quickly yelled back, lunging to their feet with a stumble as they dusted themselves off.
  At the sidelines, Stress and Grian cackled, watching in lighthearted amusement. Tommy could feel his face flushed red with brief embarrassment, quickly attempting to play it off.
  “Truer answer; I was being awesome. That was what, Tubbo. Are we eating or what? I want to throw pearls and go places. And eat, that too.” He quickly turned towards the two Hermits expectantly, narrowing his eyes at them.
  Grian grinned, nodding. “Yes, yes we are! I have boats. Go ahead and pop up with your pearls, and we’ll fly out to you.” He explained briefly, pulling the boats from his inventory. The thin, digitized object manifesting in his hand. 
  Tommy turned expectantly to Tubbo. “You got this, Toob?” He tilted his head, watching his friend. Tubbo had immediately nodded vigoriously, running over towards the center of the room, the ceiling above open to the water. 
  “Yeah! I’ve got this, Big Man! No sweat!” They gave a toothy grin, shifting the enderpearl in their hand. Arching their arm back, the teen cautiously stepped back.
  Their communicator had continued reading off the details of the room into their thin earpiece,  primarily the dimensions. All they had to do was hit the wall leading up to the surface to get out. They could do that, surely.
  With a huff of effort, they chucked the pearl. They heard it  break through the under-surface of the water, and then they were submerged. Breaching the surface, they gasped for a moment. The ocean rippled, clothes heavy and soaked. They were certainly glad they had been in their casual clothes, rather than their presidential outfit.
  Within a moment, Tommy was up beside them, quietly gasping as well. The blond pushed his hair back, lightly nudging Tubbo away from the gaping hole in the water beneath them- and then Grian and Stress flew out.
  The sound from the rockets were deafened from beneath the ocean, thankfully. Only a thin trail of smoke followed them, the sight certainly unfamiliar to the fireworks the two teens had been accustomed to.
  Both Hermits had dived straight into the shallow water with a splash, before the dirty-blond dropped down two boats.
“I want to drive! Tommy, i’m driving us!” Tubbo cried out, at the sound of the wood hitting the water. Beside them, Tommy scoffed.
“Tubbo! I’m not gettin’ motion sickness! We just woke up, no way. Your idea of ‘driving’ is no one elses, my friend.” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he pulled himself into the boat. Beside him, Tubbo whined.
  “C’mon, man! Nothing like a bit of motion-sickness to get the day started!” They playfully remarked. Despite that, they had already accepted their defeat, pulling up into the boat.
  Stress and Grian watched the teens carefully, with Stress laughing lightheartedly at the banter between them as she pulled herself into the boat, behind Grian.
  Grian, on the otherhand, was mostly quiet. A thin wisp of a smile was present, conveying one of bemusement. Tommy didn’t get a good look, but, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the look from Grian. He didn’t like it.
  “Alright,” The older Brit at hand started. “We’re real close. No one should be at Looky Looky At My Cookie- and it should be early enough that there aren’t any real occupants at the Cowmerical District.” He explained, turning the boat as he got a small start ahead of the teens.
  “Sure, then! That sounds g- wait, what’s that name?”
“C’mon, then!” Grian wouldn't answer Tubbo’s valid question, before boating off. Tommy quickly following behind, shouting indignantly after them.
  It certainly was odd. It felt..Comforting, here. Certainly not relaxing. The opposite of cf relaxing- Tubbo had nothing but the craving to do something. But it was..Welcoming. It was strange. They hadn’t felt so- so unbothered, since..Ever, really. They liked it.
  Tubbo wondered if it could stay this way.
  Tommy wondered what the hell they were about to get themselves into.
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firstknightss · 4 years ago
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GWAINCELOT ESSAY THREE???
[commentary voice] ah yes and this gwaincelot essay.... which turned into a fic was inspired by @nextstopparis and @little-ligi
GWAINE TEACHING LANCELOT HOW TO READ. and thats how they actually CONFESS.
imagine gwaine seeing lancelot trip up reading leon’s plan for the day, seeing him trying to understand it. and gwaines, hes a little in love. Hes. Hes a little hit with feelings for this Noble (tm) knight. So OF COURSE he CANT EMOTION and he tries to show his affection for lancelot without yknow being in ‘loVE’
he comes over with his swishy hair and bantery tone like “oooOhHh LANCELOT! Lancey! Hey! Hello! Can’t read leon’s goddamn awful handwriting huh?”
And Lancelots embarrassed and flushes red and gwaine thinks hes Fucked Up (and he really doesn’t want to fuck this up, this is the first time he’s actually felt emotions this deep for someone) and tries to fix it panickedly, like the Anxiety Clown He Is.
He keeps on saying sorry and apologising, and Lancelot, the EVER CALM KNIGHT GUY, goes “it’s fine, it’s okay. It’s nothing to do with you...” and then he hesitates. He HESITATES. “....it’s just that...” and then he BITES HIS LIP and gwaine thinks he might just faint there and then, “...i cant read.”
and now it hits him, gwaine, gwaine, who thought literacy was something trash and something he didn’t really need, realises how important it is. and so, yknow because hes kind of wrapped in those Emotions (tm), he pulls lancelot’s sleeve after practice, when they’re alone in the changing room. (and if lancelot wasn’t so tired and miserable, he would have easily seen gwaine BLUSH)
And he, shyly asks if lancelot wouldnt mind being tutored by him.
Now Lancelot is OVERJOYED, and he’s borderline CRYING because lancelot, poor old village boy lancelot who’d been kicked out of the knights of camelot, and had to become a MERCENARY and fight for masters who didn’t care for him, has NEVER HAD someone literally CARE about him so much. (Apart from Merlin. He loves merlin <3)
so now imagine lancelot waking up an hour early the next morning, and showing up into gwaine’s room. He knows gwaine literally doesnt sleep with a lock, so he just barges in, and starts shaking gwaine.
Now GWAINE sleeps like a Log (had so much shit going on irl, time to sleep it away) and when he opens his bleary eyes, seeing lancelot in one of his stupid v neck shirts over him, hes like “....h...helo??”
and lancelot’s all like. “We- werent YOU gonna give me reading lessons.” And gwaine nods, yawning (and in that moment lancelot thinks gwaine looks unimaginably cute, so cute that he wants to literally ruffle gwaine’s hair and run his hands through how silky and brown it is.)
THEN gwaine pulls on the dont care-ish mask, and makes his arms into a pillow under his head, as he leans against the wall behind his bed, in some kind of somewhat???flirty??? manner??? [i dont...i dont know what hes trying to do. On the other hand! Not does Lancelot :) ]
Lancelot, does not realise this is gwaine’s poor attempt at flirting - since he’s seen gwaine ACTUALLY flirting and this is like. Nothing. And its also poorly executed. Which is NOTHING like gwaine.
So he pulls gwaine’s arm, and half hauls him out of bed.
As gwaine’s head crashes into lancelot’s stomach, he can smell lancelot’s clothes. They smell of flowers, and cotton and everything so natural and gwaine, who literally smells of wine, and wood and Tavern. (And aftershave, or the 500AD equivalent)
[see here, see im trying to bring themes of dionysis okay. OkayyyyyyyyY. yours truly likes looking at greek mythology. And both these two complete dionysis]
Gwaine, in his sleepy stupor, nestles his head on Lancelot’s hip, who gives a sigh and stands there. One hand clutching gwaine’s, leaving the other free.....
....to rake through his soft, flowy brown hair. And twirl his fingers through its waves, and Gwaine cuddles in further.
And since Lancelot left the door open, Leon (the other bitch who wakes up at 4am to do idk nothing) sees them two...like that, illuminated by the SUNLIGHT behind them, and smiles a little.
And then he trips over the stairs, the moment is lost.
Gwaine and Lancelot pull away at the same time, and gwaine’s face turns back to “ha ha im a Jerk (tm)” and if he wasnt too busy trying to hide how flustered he was, he’d see Lancelot looking at him the way he used to look at GWEN.
They both blink and look at each other, understandingly, neither of them to speak of this again.
And then Gwaine drags himself out of bed, and Lancelot raises his eyebrows as he watches him (totally not checking him out) haul out a book from his cupboard.
Gwaine’s too sleepy for this, he keeps yawning and rubbing his eyes (looking like a cat, Lancelot notes) and Lancelot takes a deep breath, his eyes understanding.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“Lancelot, I love..” he bites his tongue, cursing his half asleep mind “..doing this, and love hanging out with you...I just cant stay up this early.”
Reading lessons, from now on, are at 1:30am-whenever Gwaine and Lancelot stop rambling about Odysseus and Circe and Telemachus
[i dont know any other ancient books apart from like. Ancient greek/Roman ones. So i guess. Its not historically accurate,,,,BUUIT this is a fanfic for a pair who had like no scenes together SO i think i can take some ✨creative liberties✨]
Lancelot has heard of the journey of Aneas from travelling bards, singing songs in his native old english. Gwaine’s eyes are quick at latin, and he learnt the flaws of Romulus and Remus in his pure latin. Gwaine’s a good teacher, and lancelot is a quick study, and it’s not long before they’re arguing over which Goddess caused the most harm in the Illiad.
Gwaine’s never met someone who he could reveal that he loved reading to, he loved doing.
Lancelot’s never met someone who he could tell he couldn’t read, and ask if they could teach him, love learning.
They make it work.
The other knights notice, of course they notice. Percival notices how Lancelot stumbles into the Gwaine’s room at night, bright eyed. Elyan notices Lancelot and Gwaine’s voices from Gwaine’s room opposite him; sometimes slow, Gwaine speaking slowly and Lancelot following; sometimes heated and passionate.
(They’re arguing. They’re arguing about how to pronounce Minerva)
Merlin finds the two, in the early hours of the morning - when the birds are figuring what song they sing today - on Gwaine’s bed.
Gwaine leaned against the bedframe, his trousered legs splayed over the sheets. Loosely braided, long brown hair fell over his closed eyelids, his mouth in a small smile.
And Merlin follows his arm draped over Lancelot, snuggled beside him, his head on his broad shoulder, every breath of wind pushing against curly black hair, making it almost /bounce/. His eyes are covered by the other man’s hair, and he looks...content. More content than Merlin has ever seen him.
He slips out as quietly as he came in, and smirks, hes gotta tell arthur they finally got their shit together oh GOD
Its no surprise to anyone but them, when Arthur pulls Lancelot out of training, and into his chambers.
“I’m glad you’ve found someone Lancelot.” He starts, his face geniune, his voice giving away hints of relief. (He thought he was never going to see his knight smile again after all the ordeals that had happened to him)
“Oh...” Lancelot’s heart sinks, “...how did you find out, Sire?”
Arthur blinks, taking in the change of mood in Lancelot, maybe it wasn’t anything important, maybe they were trying to keep it casual, hell they didnt want the king knowing.
“I- uh, I just noticed...” Goddamnit Merlin, and Goddamn his need to tell him everything he saw. (Merlin had advised him not to do this, as they sat on his bed after a long night. This was really his fault.)
Lancelot pales, and he places his hands down on the table beside him, palms slapping stone as he did so.
“Well, I guess I should tell you the whole truth then,” his voice is quiet, and Arthur steps closer, “Sire I am not of Noble birth, and was born in a village - as you know.”
Arthur nods, his arms crossed, but his Kingly Bravado fell away at the sight of his knight, and one of his closest friends, being this vulnerable.
“Yes I know, but what does this ha-“
“And we children in the village we-“ he falters, “-we were never taught to read.”
“Yes, no I understand, I-“ he pauses, Lancelot’s words hitting him a bit too late, this was about literacy?
This, this whole conversation was about literacy?
Not being gay?
Merlin was going to have a field day
“Sire?”
“I understand Lancelot, and is this why you feel a little out of place with the other knights?” He carries it on, with a smile, he has a few questions to ask merlin.
“Yes, and that’s why I asked Gwaine to tutor me from time to time, although, the sessions carry through late into the night, which may have been affecting my performance at practice. I’ll have you know that this is a temporary th-“
“It’s fine Lancelot,” Arthur places a hand on his shoulder, “You are still exceptional at practice,”
“Thank you Sire,” Lancelot twinkles.
“Theyre, theyre not together?” Merlin cant stop laughing, tears streaming down his face, “theyre not TOGETHER?? oh my God arthur what did you DO”
They sit together on Arthur’s bed, drinking wine from stemless cups together, with Arthur recounting the events of the day; red faced.
“I mean, it was your idea Merlin.”
“I just saw them, and I assumed...I didnt...I didnt think youd ASK them.”
“What do you think I’d do then?? Let them be on their merry way.”
“Yes!”
“Do you like me?” Gwaine asks, unexpectedly, one night, the moon vibrant against the loud sea.
“You’re...tolerable...” Lancelot says, a smile tugging at his lips, as the silver moonlight falls against his hair, a halo around him.
The knights give them the look every morning, as the two of them stumbled out of the same room, more frequently than ever.
Sometimes Lancelot would throw on Gwaine’s shirt, when he’d crumpled his own beyond repair. Sometimes Gwaine would put some of Lancelot’s hair oil on, when his hair was frizzy.
They gave each other knowing looks when Gwaine and Lancelot started whispering and giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls.
And then Stupid gwaine had to go get fucking stabbed, and their delicate dance was like trying to waltz through a minefield.
Lancelot clutches onto Gwaine’s arm as Merlin feels his forehead with shaking hands.
“He’s burning up.”
“Infection...?” Lancelot sounds broken, and nods, fumbling with his pack to find some bandages.
It was just a simple quest; a save the day, get the girl, do various harmless shenanigans type of quest.
He’d half expected Gwaine to get the girl, and he cant help but give out a half choked laugh. Gwaine had no idea what hit him when she turned out to be the evil one all along.
He tries to forget that Gwaine showed no interest in her, he tries to forget that Gwaine’s been less frequent at the Tavern, he tries to forget that he hasn’t seen Gwaine with anyone since months now.
Gwaine, his beautiful Gwaine was lying on his lap, hot red blood rushing from his side, staining his polished chainmail with dark, sticky blood.
He’s been out for nearly an hour now, and Lancelot remembers carrying him, through the entire forest, forgetting his sword and his helmet and just grabbing Gwaine and getting the shit out of there.
Gwaine’s lack of self preservation was really rubbing off on Lancelot nowadays.
Merlin watches as Lancelot holds back tears, his own eyes stinging. Gwaine can’t die like this, he can’t die like this....
“hælan beorn adl”
Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, and Lancelot could feel warmth coming back into the fingers he was grabbing.
He was coming back.
And then the weight of everything hits him.
He was in Fucking Love.
“Hey.” Gwaine’s voice is rough from disuse, but Lancelot nearly sobs when he hears the voice.
“Don’t fucking do that to me again, amor meus.” He puts his head down on Gwaine’s chest; finding the hammering of his heart calming.
He shimmies onto Merlin’s bed, which Gwaine had been lying in for the past few days.
“Did you mean, ami meus?” Gwaine sounds tired, too tired to be awake.
“Huh? Did i say something else?” Lancelot decides to play dumb, a sparkle in his eyes,
“I thought I heard amor meus,” Gwaine pushes his nose into Lancelot’s hair, taking in the wonderful smell of coconut.
“Well then, at least your hearing’s okay, amor meus.”
Gwaine gulped, and was sure Lancelot could hear his loud swallow.
“Lancelot, I hope this isnt a big joke with me teachin you latin and all,” Gwaine’s voice is a little wobbly from the slee deprivation and the magic and the pain numbers, “because I’ll have you know that I really love you, and I cant go on like this any longer,”
“Its okay Gwaine, I learnt latin from the man I love, of course it’s not a joke.”
“The man you love? Who’s tha-“
Realisation hits him like a brick.
Oh.
Oh.
“Me?” His voice cracks, and Lancelot looks up, a smirk on his face.
“Of course dumbass.”
“Like I’m meant to know that,” Gwaine tries to keep his dont care-ish aura, but they both know he’s too exhausted to keep that up.
“mmm?”
Gwaine kisses him on the nose, and he wraps himself around him.
And thats how Merlin finds them later that day, eyes blinking as he stood there.
“I’m glad you’ve found someone, Lancelot.” Arthur coughs.
“Is that what that whole talk was about???”
“Answer the question.” His words sound harsh, but he’s barely hiding a smile.
“I’m glad too, I’m Glad I found Gwaine too.” Lancelot blushes, turning to gwaine.
“Why are you asking anyway, Princess?”
“Oh just, making sure this time.”
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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago
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Don’t Talk To Me About Love
Day number 4 of the Platonically themed event! This is another idea thats sort of been bouncing around my head since I posted Platonically. In the months since then I’ve started and stopped this blurb about 60 times - at one point I intended it as a sequel but then ended up absorbing part of the plot into PNDDAOF. But here we are. It is somewhat complete and I’m much happier with it now then I was before. 
Yet again, this blurb is inspired by a song - Don’t Talk To Me About Love by Altered Images (less the lyrics and more just the title but it’s a bop so like check it out anyway lmao) 
Words: 2,150
Warnings: It’s about the Communication. There’s talk of an argument but nothing specific and honestly this is mostly just about the two of them Dealing with something out of the ordinary. 
Every morning with Ben follows the same pattern. No matter who wakes first, no matter how long it takes you to get out of bed, Ben will greet you with a kiss on the cheek. It’s a litmus test of your disposition and a lesson hard learnt. Most days you’ll lean into him, wrap your arms around him, press your lips to his, snuggle back into his embrace, and he knows that it means you’ll be okay with the actions that convince others you’re boyfriend and girlfriend. But every so often it’s different. Those days, what he has come to call your no romo days, his cheek kiss will be returned but you’ll pull back before he can sweep you into something deeper, a sign that you don’t have the patience or energy or whatever it usually takes, to deal with romance. Those days are few and far between, mostly occurring months apart, seemingly at random. But because of that it took quite some time before you got the hang of dealing with them as partners. On your own it had been easier to avoid romantic expressions, but with Ben it was harder to manage.  
The first time it happened after you’d started the QPR, you tried to push through, tried to ignore the tension you felt as he unexpectedly kissed you, his hands pulling you into him. There was a sudden urge to run away, your blood running cold, and Ben must have sensed that something was off. He was always observant where you were concerned. When he asked if something was wrong you pretended there wasn’t but he kept badgering you until you told him what was up. Unfortunately you sort of bit his head off, frustrated by the constant questions. You immediately regretted your tone and choice of words but the damage was done, Ben’s expression one of hurt and confusion. Before you could try to explain better he’d left the room. He gave you space for the rest of the day, barely crossing your path at all, but it was too much space, an overcorrection. And that made you mad more than anything else. After all you’d warned him that this happened sometimes, that you had days where you were repulsed by the thought of anything romantic, completely turned off by actions that could be read as such. How dare he be hurt by it, as if you were an inconvenience he had to endure. He was the one who suggested you do the QPR thing in the first place, why did he suddenly think it only included the times you were acting closest to a regular girlfriend. At that point you hadn’t yet moved into his house so you left and slept in your own bed that night, sick with worry that you’d ruined everything with Ben, that you’d wake up in the morning to find not only your QPR broken but that your best friend wouldn’t want anything more to do with you at all. You felt stupid to have thought that a QPR could work, that you could ever fit anywhere. Clearly you were meant to be alone.  
But the next morning brought rational thought and rational conversation as well as a higher tolerance for romance. Ben called to make sure you were okay, confessing to a fairly sleepless night spent worrying if you'd got home safe and feeling bad about how you’d left. But you could hear his smile when you invited him over to talk about it, could practically see it in your mind’s eye. And then you saw it for real, a proper grin, when you’d opened the door and dove into his arms, burying your face in his shirt. He’d squeezed you tight, relieved that things between you were still good. It took a serious conversation to sort out what had gone wrong. You tried to better explain what it was you felt - the queasy feeling at the idea of being involved in any sort of romantic act and the discomfort when confronted with romantic imagery or depictions of romance and romantic couples – reassuring Ben that it wasn’t anything he’d done, and he apologised for giving you the cold shoulder, admitting his distance had been because he wasn’t sure how to act around you. Talking it out helped and when you were done, both feeling like you better understood what would help the situation, you curled up in bed together to catch up on the sleep you’d missed.  
The next time, nearly six months later, you’d been better prepared and, though it was still a little rocky, it had gone smoother. Ben didn’t try to avoid you, so you didn’t feel as abandoned as you had the last time, but you made sure to maintain some distance from him, knowing his feelings were different to yours and not wanting to put him in any awkward situations. There were moments when neither of you knew what to do or say, moments when it felt like you were both treading on eggshells to try and avoid a repeat of the last time. But when you asked to take a break from the TV series you were halfway through because the romance plotline didn’t hold the same enjoyment it usually did, he seemed to understand and agreed to what you needed. The time after that had been barely a month later, far sooner than you were expecting. You supposed that your relationship with Ben was having an impact. After all it had been a while since you’d last been in a romantic relationship and though what you and Ben had wasn’t that, it did cross some of the same lines. Surely it was natural that your mind would try to balance things out by making you feel unequipped to deal with romantic subplots and sentimental love songs more often than before. Or at least that’s how to tried to explain it to Ben when he made a huffy comment about the increasing frequency of your romance repulsed days. If it hadn’t been for an interrupting phone call from his mum, you might have fallen into another fight. Instead, you spent the time he was on the phone thinking about why things felt so hard, trying to come up with possible solutions. You went over some activities in your head, comparing how you usually felt about them and what you felt when you were romance repulsed. Cheek kisses still felt okay because they were generally a way you showed affection to everyone you knew, but being kissed on the lips seemed to cross a line, no matter how it was done. Cuddling too could be okay depending on the context but you’d probably prefer not to just to be safe. Sex on the other hand was a big question mark You’d never tried having sex on a no romo day before, but you assumed if emphasis was put on the physical pleasure it could work, though maybe positions that didn’t force eye contact would be more enjoyable. But perhaps that was better left to be explored when you were both more comfortable with the situation. Even dinners out together and datey things like that could be doable if you didn’t have to deal with candlelight and intimate seating.  
As soon as Ben was finished on the phone you tried to explain your thought process to him.   “The way I think about it is like...regularly I have a mental picture of what actions I feel are platonic and what actions cross into romance. Sometimes those lines aren’t super clear like with kissing, but I know which it is when I see it or experience it.” “Right, like how you don’t mind spooning in bed and getting really close but on the couch you prefer to rest your head on my lap or whatever.” “Yes, exactly. It might all be considered variations on cuddling but to me there's a big difference in how they feel. Well a no romo day is like if you took all of those distinct lines and moved them over a little. The lines are still there but the image is distorted and not quite what I’m used to seeing.” “Okay,” he stretched the word out thoughtfully, “so...it’s not that everything feels romantic it’s just that your tolerance levels have changed?” “Yeah, I think so. It’s not easy for me to understand either. Especially since sometimes things change more than others. But yeah, that’s pretty much it. But my big question is what do you need? I don’t want this to become a big problem or cause fights every time it happens so, what’s going to help make it feel more normal for you?” Ben thought for a moment, “Physical contact. I don’t mean that in a sexual way either, just physical contact. I mean you know how touchy I can be. It grounds me. Even just a hug or, y’know, rubbing my back as you walk past me, things like that. A high five even. If we’re out with the others it’s not so bad cause they all know what I’m like too and none of them will mind if I lean on their shoulder or sit on their lap or whatever. But when it’s just us...I need that physical contact to feel settled and I guess it’s been harder to feel okay about it when you flinch away from me. Makes me feel wrong just because I want to be close to you.” You were a little stunned by the honest and carefully considered way he responded to your question, and felt a little bad about trying to force space between you, “I knew you liked that sort of thing but I guess I didn’t realise how important it is for you.” Ben shrugged, “Normally it’s something I don’t even think about. But with you lately it’s like I just haven’t known what to do.”He paused, biting the corner of his thumb nail as he thought, “I don’t think the way I love you is entirely platonic anymore. I mean it hasn’t been entirely platonic for a while now but those feelings aren’t going away. And I’m not saying that to make you feel bad or anything, it’s just how it is, and I think it’s part of why I’ve been so weird or whatever about this whole romance repulsion thing.” “Yeah it must be kinda hard to understand what I mean,” “I’m trying to understand it and I’m trying to be respectful. But you gotta give me a little more. And you have to be more understanding of where I’m coming from too.”
After that, you both made adjustments to accommodate the other and talked through what solutions worked and what didn’t. Ben spent some time consulting google for ideas and found you a playlist of songs that had aromantic vibes or at least could be reinterpreted so the romantic meaning was more relatable for you. And you made more of an effort to keep up a physical closeness with him – sitting shoulder to shoulder as you watched TV and shared a bag of microwave popcorn, rubbing your hand over his back as you stepped behind him in the kitchen, surprising him by placing a cold hand to his face or stomach when he wasn’t expecting it – even on regular days when you didn’t hate the way it felt to be held by him. You figured that emphasising those sorts of small physical gestures would help both of you in the long run. Every so often something would arise that needed a little extra discussion but you both took them in your stride and did your best to be accommodating and patient.  
And by the next time a no romo day occurred, things were as close to perfect as you could hope for. You wriggled out from under Ben’s arm when you woke, better able to recognise the sick feeling  creeping up on you. Stepping out of bed you switched Ben’s oversized sweatshirt for one of your own and tiptoed down to the kitchen putting your anti-romantic playlist on softly as you made coffee and toast. When Ben eventually surfaced he pressed his lips to your cheek but he already felt you wouldn’t want anything more than that, putting together the pieces and proved right as you gave a small shake of your head. He gave your waist a brief squeeze in acknowledgement before turning toward the fridge to begin his own morning routine. And just like that you knew things would be okay. You couldn’t say you knew what he felt or that you entirely understood it but, yet again, Ben had shown that his love for you was less about Love and more about you. And you hoped he could see that you cared for him just as strongly, even if you felt it differently.
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peaceisadirtyword · 5 years ago
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Move On (Modern!Ivar/Reader)
A/N: Hi♥️ I don’t even know what is this, to be honest, I started writing it the other day and this came out. It’s not good, it doesn't even make sense, I think. It’s angsty, bad written and awful, but it’s the first thing I was able to write in nearly a month, and as I didn’t post anything these days, I decided to post it. I’ll probably regret it in the morning, so if I delete it don’t be surprised. Sorry. I also worked a bit on Don’t Play With Fire, but... Well, I'll continue with the drabbles tomorrow😅
Warnings: an attempt of angst, mentions of insecurities, my bad writing, I don’t even know what is this I'm sorry 
Words: 2425
Tumblr media
gif belongs to @hvitserkk​ 
You sighed in boredom as you took a sip of your drink, looking around the nightclub as you held back another sigh. 
You knew you should have stayed home that night. Everyone seemed to be having so much fun, and you didn't want to ruin everything but you felt so alone...
Your eyes went back to the bar, where your boyfriend stood, leant on one of the stools as he spoke to the blonde girl that was, in some way, responsible for your bitterness. 
Ivar had been distant for weeks. He was having some rough therapy sessions, so you supposed that was the reason why he was acting so weird. He barely called you, and didn't answer your texts -this was normal, Ivar hated texting, but usually when you texted him he called you to talk-, you had stayed at his house a couple of nights, but he didn't even touch you. So different from the long nights full of sex, cuddles and making out sessions you had barely two months ago. 
Your didn't even remember when was the last time he kissed you. 
But now you kind of imagined why. 
Everything had changed when the blonde girl had moved to the apartment next to Ivar and Hvitserk. You remembered how she had came to their apartment as you were having breakfast; with her perfect smile and a soft voice, asking if they had sugar; she just moved the day before and didn't have time to go to the grocery store just yet. Her eyes had lingered on Ivar for too long, but you didn't really give that much importance; you were used to people staring at him. Even if he didn't realize it, Ivar was amazingly handsome; which was the main reason people stared at him, and not his legs. 
What worried you was the look Ivar gave her. He widened his eyes and cleared his throat before introducing himself. That day you had a huge fight; not because of that, but because he got annoyed at you when you proposed to go to the cinema just the two of you. 
Since then, Ivar had invited her everywhere, even in those nights out with his brothers you did every week; and even if you didn't want to be jealous, knowing Ivar could have as many friends as he wanted and he was probably trying to make her feel more comfortable as she just moved in and didn't know anyone. 
But whenever she was close... He changed too much. 
"Hey" Hvitserk sitting next to you interrupted your thoughts "Are you okay?" 
You sighed again but smiled at him and nodded. 
"Just a bit tired" you shrugged "I'm going home, I think" 
"Now?" Hvitserk frowned "It's too late, why don't you wait and come with us? You shouldn't walk alone at this hour" 
"Yeah but..." you looked at them again. Hvitserk followed your gaze and rolled his eyes at his brother "It's a bit boring, right?" 
"I don't like her either" he muttered "She seems... Too nice. But only with Ivar; she barely pays attention to anyone else"
"I mean, we don't know her, she might be the sweetest person in the world" you shook your head "It's Ivar who I'm worried about" 
Hvitserk frowned again. 
"Hey, don't worry about him, okay? Ivar would never do that" 
"Yeah..." you cleared your throat, looking away from them "I hope so" 
"He's not stupid enough to ruin a four year relationship for a girl he just met" he shrugged "Trust me" 
_________________________________________
You looked at your reflection on the mirror. Without your makeup, you felt even worse than before. Your eyes scanned your face, sighing. You had learnt not to compare yourself with other women, but sometimes -like this time- you couldn't help it. 
Ivar had barely talked to you since you left the club. Freydis had came with you, talking sweetly to Ivar and Hvitserk, and even you; but you only answered with 'yes' and 'no', because you knew that you'd be rude if you said something else, and were too tired to argue. 
She had said goodnight with a wide smile, and Ivar had smiled back at her; a smile that left his face as soon as the two of you were all alone in his bedroom. 
It was like he couldn't stand being near you. 
When you entered the bedroom again, he was already in bed, and barely looked at you, focused on his phone. You preferred not to ask who he was talking to. 
Kneeling on his bed, you looked at him biting your lip. You had the feeling he was angry at you, but you didn't remember doing anything to make him mad.
"Ivar" you said his name softly. His deep blue eyes fixed on you "Are you okay?" 
"Yes, why?" He nodded calmly. 
You blinked, confused. Maybe you were imagining everything. Maybe you were exaggerating and nothing had changed, it could be that. 
Right?
You crawled under the covers, dressed on one of Ivar's shirts. His bed was the most comfortable place you had ever slept on. It was warm and soft, but in that moment it felt like the coldest place on Earth. 
You moved closer to him, but Ivar didn't look at you. When you touched his arm softly, he tensed up, but his eyes were still glued to the screen. 
He didn't move, not until you tried to snuggle up next to him, when he sighed in annoyance and moved away. Then you immediately moved away, muttering an apology. 
Then you turned around, and let a couple of tears run down your cheeks before closing your eyes and forcing yourself to sleep. 
_________________________
When you woke up, you were alone in bed. Ivar's side was already cold, which meant he had gotten up much earlier than you. You took a deep breath before closing your eyes again and covering your face with the sheets. You absolutely hated fighting with Ivar, especially when he was angry and wouldn't tell you why. 
When you entered the kitchen, Hvitserk was already there, looking at his phone as he ate breakfast. He greeted you with a wink and a smile. 
"Morning" you muttered.
"Good morning, princess" he chuckled "Had a rough night?"
You sighed and rolled your eyes, making him laugh. 
"Where's Ivar?" 
"He went for a walk" he shrugged "He seemed angry, I didn't dare to ask because he was having breakfast and had a knife on his hand"
You rubbed your face tiredly. 
"I don't know what's wrong with him, he's acting so weird... Last night he barely looked at me, but when I asked if he was okay he said yes"
"He's difficult" Hvitserk shook his head "I'm sure it's nothing personal, he's like that with everyone" 
Yeah... But not with me. 
You stole one of his toasts, making him pout and glare at you, but let you eat it and even poured another cup of coffee for you. 
"I should get dressed and leave" you muttered, drinking the coffee quickly and grabbing another toast "I have things to do today"
"Want me to drive you home?" He asked with his mouth full.
"No, thanks, I prefer to walk a bit, to clear up my mind" 
He hummed, nodding his head. You felt his eyes on you as you left the kitchen and walked down the hall to Ivar's bedroom. 
________________________________
"And... This is my room" Ivar bit his lip nervously, letting you in. You entered with a wide smile on your lips, excited to see it for the first time. It was full of books, and the king sized bed was covered with a black duvet. Everything in that room screamed Ivar and you loved it. 
"It's really nice" you smiled at him "I like it" 
He blushed and closed the door behind him. 
"It's not much... Most of my stuff is at my parents' house" 
You looked at the bookshelf, reading the titles of the books and frowning every time you saw one in a foreign language. 
"Is this Icelandic?" 
He nodded. 
"Floki and Helga had a house in Iceland, I used to spend the summer holidays in there since I was six" he muttered "I learnt the language, it's the closest to Old Norse" 
"I didn't know you spoke Icelandic" you looked at him in awe "Impressive"
He blushed again. 
"I'd love to go to Iceland" you said, moving to look at the books he had on his desk, next to his laptop "It must be amazing" 
"It is" he nodded "You should come with me next summer, we could go for a couple of weeks" he whispered, almost like he was scared of you hearing it. 
You blushed too, but smiled and approached him again. 
"You haven't even asked me to be your girlfriend and you want us to plan our first holiday together" you giggled, and Ivar's eyes widened. He looked terrified. 
"I..." 
"I'm joking, Ivar" you laughed "Sorry, I could go as your friend too... So, what's your plan? It will rain all day" you pouted "But we can do something else, right?" 
His eyes fixed on you made you nervous.
"Yeah, we could... Do something in here..." He cleared his throat "Netflix?" 
You nodded, making him sigh in relief. 
He gestured towards his bed, and you sat on it as he grabbed his laptop before sitting next to you. 
It was there, laying on his bed and sharing a blanket with him, watching Netflix in silence, both too nervous to even look at each other when he cleared his throat. 
"Y/N" he muttered, making you look at him "I really want you to come to Iceland with me" 
You smiled at him, biting your lip to hide the excitement that made you tremble. 
"I'd love to go to Iceland with you" 
"As my girlfriend" he muttered. 
"As your girlfriend" you answered, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. Ivar hummed and kissed you back. The movie playing on his laptop already forgotten. 
__________________________________
You entered his bedroom, missing that shy and sweet Ivar that blushed every time you looked at him. Four years later, you felt like everything had changed except for that bedroom. 
You laid on the bed again, unlocking your phone and answering some texts. Torvi had sent the photos all of you had taken together the night before. You scanned your face and frowned, biting your lip. Why suddenly you hated the way you looked? You thought you were already over that. 
You heard the main door closing, and some voices down the hall. Ivar was back, and you locked your phone and kneeled on the bed, ready to face him. His stupid behavior was hurting you more than you thought, and you needed him to stop. 
He looked almost surprised when he saw you. 
"Hi" you muttered.
"Hi" he answered with a sigh, approaching the bed to sit down, grunting softly and grabbing his leg. 
"Are you okay?" You saw him wince and bit your lip. 
"It's just the humidity" he shrugged "Apparently, it will be raining the whole day" 
You nodded, watching him carefully. 
"Ivar... I think we need to talk" you said softly "I don't know what have I done to make you be so angry at me, but I'm sorry, this is killing me I... Please, just talk to me so we can figure this out" 
He rubbed his eyes, nodding.
"You haven't done anything" he cleared his throat "I went for a walk because I needed to think" 
"To think about what?" Your voice trembled a bit. 
Ivar took a deep breath, clenching his jaw before turning to look at you. 
"I think I'm in love with someone else, Y/N" 
A part of you already knew it, even if you didn't want to believe it. But it broke your heart anyway; you felt some tears fall down your cheeks and stood silent. Ivar didn't look at you.
"Since when?" you managed  to whisper.
"I don't know, it just happened..." He finally looked at you "I'm really sorry, Y/N, she..."
"I know who is she" you interrupted him. If he said her name you would start sobbing "Have you... Done anything?" 
"No" he shook his head "We didn't do anything, I swear, I wouldn't do that" 
You nodded, even if knowing he hadn't cheated on you didn't really comfort you in any way. 
"So..." You sniffed "This means..."
"It's over, Y/N" he shrugged "I don't want to hurt you" 
"A bit late for that I think" your voice cracked.
"I'm sorry" he muttered again. 
You stood up, and got dressed as fast as you could, trying to control the tears and with your heart racing. You even felt dizzy. Ivar didn't move. He stood there, sitting with his eyes on the floor, biting his lip and fiddling with his crutch. 
You opened the door. Standing there for a moment looking at him, trying to find something to say. He looked at you again, and this time at least he looked hurt. 
After a couple of seconds, and feeling the tears filling your eyes again, you turned around, leaving the room and closing the door behind you. The sound drowned the small sob you let out. 
Hvitserk was standing on the living room, he frowned. 
"Hey, hey" he tried to hug you but you moved away "What happened, Y/N?" 
"I need to leave, I'm sorry" you muttered. He nodded.
"Okay, do you want me to take you home? It's raining, and it's cold"
You shook your head. 
"Thank you, Hvitty, for everything" you tried to smile, but it looked more like a pout. 
"You don't have to thank me" he smiled softly "Call if you need anything, okay?"
You nodded.
"Bye" you whispered before opening the door. 
Hvitserk was right, it was raining and the cold made you shiver even more as you walked down the street. You felt a strange pressure in your chest, and could barely breathe. Ivar's words replayed on your head again and again. You felt a mix between anger and sadness, your throat burned and the tears barely let you see where you were going. 
Still trembling, you took out your phone and unlocked it. The thought of locking yourself at home all alone scared you. 
You pressed the call icon and tried to control yourself, stopping and leaning onto a wall. 
"Hello?"
"Hi, Alfred" surprisingly, your voice sounded much better than you thought "Are you busy?" 
________________________________________________
Tags: @mblaqgi​ @alicedopey​ @lol-haha-joke​ @hallowed-heathen​ @naaladareia​ @tephi101​ @captstefanbrandt​ @love-hate-love​ @titty-teetee​ @readsalot73​ @moondustmemories​ @therealcalicali​ @chimera4plums​ @blushingskywalker​ @awkwardfangirl02​ @gruffle1​ @justacripple​ @love-dria​ @heartbeats-wildly​ @letsrunawaytotomorrow​ @inforapound​ @sallydelys​ @hellogabysblog​ @trashcanx @winchesterwife27​ @hecohansen31​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @eteramfools​ @tgrrose​ @flokidottirsstuff​ @lovessce​ @tootie-fruity​ @didiintheblog​ @alexhandersenx​ @belovedcherry​ 
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erekiosuncreativeideas · 4 years ago
Text
Being Human - Chapter 22
<= Chapter 21
Summary : Vanessa brings a scared little kid back to her manor. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/74145501
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HEEEEEEY NEW CHAPTER (sorry for the late update these days !) I hope you'll like this chapter !
The “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​​ !
Uh if you’re interested, I post my progress on my chapters on Hatty Fan Time (the AHIT Discord server I’m moderating with two friends), so if you wanna join, go ahead !
Happy reading !
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Chapter 22 : “I n-need guidance.”    
The trek to the manor was something Snatcher could describe as anything but enjoyable. Being dragged by the one who had broken his heart and killed him, leaving him to rot in a cold cellar, all alone- no, the former shade was definitely not enjoying what was happening, far from it. He was terrified. Being dragged away by his murderer, not knowing what would happen to him, not knowing if he had even saved his friends earlier… His mind was a mess and his body was no better.
The now young Prince was being carried through the snow, his skin slowly getting blue from how cold the temperatures were. He could barely feel his feet anymore, just like his hands, his clothing certainly not made for such terrible weather. The more they walked, the more Snatcher had trouble keeping up, his legs shaking both from the fear and from the cold. No matter how much he tried to pull away, nothing he did actually managed to make Vanessa falter in any way.
He knew she would not hesitate to break his wrist should he keep resisting her. After a while, Snatcher stopped. All he could do while being dragged like this was to look at his surroundings- or what was left of his forest. The snow was covering everything up, a deep and thick white layer hiding the vegetation… And, to his great despair, most likely frozen statues of his minions, those who were too slow to flee.
The former ghost looked away and shut his eyes hard- he didn’t have the courage to witness any ice statue of someone he hadn’t been able to save. Again. He couldn’t help but feel like the same story was repeating itself, hundreds of years after it all started: Vanessa’s unstable thoughts acted up, she froze Subcon and all of its surrounding regions, and now she was going to lock him up again after killing everyone once more.
This was never going to stop, now, was it? Or, perhaps, it would… After one of them died, once and for all, putting an end to this never-ending story. However, at this particular moment… Snatcher wasn’t so confident about his own survival in the matter: with a frail and fragile body, completely powerless both figuratively and literally, the child had no way to get out of this without finding a good plan.
Would he find one, though…?
Soon, the silhouette of the old manor started to appear in front of them. Snatcher’s feet hurt and he could barely feel Vanessa’s strong grip on his wrist anymore. The sensations in his limbs were numb and so was the pain… But he knew this wasn’t a good thing, this only proved how much his body was suffering and was trying to survive. How long would it even last, given his situation…?
Snatcher’s eyes widened at the sight of the manor, ice visible on his lashes, the wet traces of the tears on his cheeks now completely frozen. It stung, it burnt- yet it was just the beginning of a new nightmare, the former ghost was more than aware of that.
The child’s stare fell on the two statues in front of the porch, unmoving but, he knew that, very much sentient and deadly. Snatcher felt chills running through him and a feeling of panic spread inside of him: as a ghost, he could deal with them, those had never been a big problem, to begin with… But as a human, no, as a kid… This changed quite a lot and, for a reason he couldn’t place yet, Snatcher felt like his emotions were even worse. Sure, becoming human again had felt awful in that regard, already- but now? He had the impression everything was just more… Intense, in some way. While, as an adult, he would have been just as scared from seeing the statues, now… Now, Snatcher had the urge to run away and cry, before curling up and hoping for something, someone to save him.
What… What was happening to him…?! The same thing had happened earlier while he had been facing Vanessa. Had his mind really become younger as his body had? Was this even possible? It didn’t seem right… He was still “him” after all!
So why did he feel so different?
Snatcher shut his eyes once more as they passed by the statues, a wave of intense fear hitting him- but nothing happened. Those things remained perfectly motionless, keeping the same pose as Vanessa dragged him up to the door.
-“There we are,” she cheerfully said, and for a brief second, she almost sounded like her old self. Almost.
With a swift gesture, the Queen opened the door and entered the manor, pulling him inside as she did so. The second Snatcher was in the entrance hall with her, she quickly closed the door behind him and… Locked it, finally letting go of the child’s wrist after that. The sound of the lock made Snatcher’s face pale up even more than it already was. Sure, this had to be expected… But, nonetheless, this just made him feel even more terrified. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, the organ pounding inside of his chest and his legs trembling at the terrible realization that he was now trapped with his murderer.
This simple thought seemed to put some order in his mess of a mind while his survival instincts took control of his body again. His life was on the line, and this place was dangerous, so very dangerous. Horrifying memories came back to him, only intensifying his urge to get out of here as soon as possible. Without thinking twice, his legs moved on their own and he dashed to the closest room- the kitchen.
He had to flee, now!
Unsurprisingly, the Queen hadn’t expected him to try to run away so soon after she let go of his wrist. A small gasp left her lips as she turned her head in his direction, a bit too slow to react. Snatcher’s little hands had now reached the door handle.
-“Stop right there!” Her voice echoed in his back, making chills run down his back, and the temperature dropped distinctly. Oh Gods, oh Gods…! Panic fuelling him, the child opened the door and dashed inside, closing the door as fast as he could. Oh, but he knew this would do nothing to hold her back… After all, she had frozen the entirety of Subcon, so a small wooden door was barely an obstacle to her. Still, fear and instincts were in control, telling him what to do without wasting any second.
And he was right to hurry: as soon as he closed the door and started to run away, the Queen opened the door again, entering the room. Her aura was now much darker and it was easy to see how annoyed she was. Ice was spreading around her from her feet, her shadow more prominent than ever, and her ghostly face even scarier than it previously was.
-“Come back here!” she yelled at him, but he kept running, turning to go to the other part of the room: the living room. He knew from memory that there was another door there, which he would be able to use to go back into the hallway, hopefully gaining enough time to disappear from her sight long enough to hide. She was quite hunchbacked after all, maybe he’d be able to distance her, even if just a little…!
However, his hopes were soon shattered as a loud, strident “enough!” resonated in the room, making it shake lightly. The temperature dropped considerably, to the point where Snatcher felt like he had been thrown back into the cold snow outside. This was a pretty good indicator of how irritated Vanessa was- he had learnt that the hard way in the cellar.
Before he was able to react, the Queen stomped her foot on the wooden floor. Instantly, a line of ice spread to his own feet, fast, trapping them and immobilizing him. It all happened in a blink, so much that Snatcher fell forward, still caught in his momentum. Yet, his ankles couldn’t move- and as his body hit the hard floor, a horrifying cracking sound echoed in the room, one he had heard oh so many times, one he had loved listening back when he was a sadistic ghost in charge of Subcon Forest- the sound of broken bones.
One of his ankles had twisted in an unnatural way as he fell down. The adrenaline and the cold allowed him not to understand what had just happened, temporarily blessing him with ignorance while all he could think about was to crawl away, in vain. His feet were stuck into the ice, preventing him from moving away from this very spot, no matter how much his nails were scratching at the floor in the hope this would help him to get away. It didn’t.
Panicked breaths left his lips, his heart pounding more and more into his chest. This was it, he was going to die, there was no way he’d survive this, absolutely no way-
-“You are quite the disrespectful child, aren’t you?” scolded a voice behind him, reminding him sharply of the dangerous monster standing in his back. Slowly, ever so slowly, the former ghost turned his head in Vanessa’s direction, his cheeks deadly pale and his heart stopping as his eyes met hers. Her red eyes were glaring at him and her shadow looked spikier than it usually did. The ice spreading off her feet was even more intense than before, slowly trapping the wood under its cold surface.
The Queen was livid.
-“I- I- I’m sorry,” he breathed out, unable to take his eyes off her, too terrified to do so. This was the end, this was how he was going to die- again: “I’m sorry, p-please, I didn’t-”
-“Quiet!” she shouted at him, her rage even more noticeable as the temperature dropped yet another time. The ice trap around Snatcher’s feet fortified, and it was only then that he noticed the strange position of his ankle. As if just seeing it was what Snatcher’s body needed to realize he had been injured, pain started to grow inside of him. The adrenaline wasn’t strong enough to contain it anymore. Tears welled up in his eyes as a silent scream escaped him, the pain becoming stronger and stronger as seconds passed.
It hurt so much!
Under so many intense emotions, the tears in his eyes finally fell, rolling down his cheeks as a few sobs left his lips. Oh, Gods…! He couldn’t move, no matter how much he wanted to- he knew it would just hurt even more should he try to crawl away again.
Quite surprisingly, Vanessa’s furious expression softened as she noticed his suffering and heard his cries. Had he not been in this situation, he would have found she looked like a mother staring at her injured child- but this was not the case, oh no, far from it.
She had been the one to hurt him, even indirectly. She was everything but a mother-figure, he knew that much. Still, contrary to what he had first thought, instead of hurting him even more, she crouched to his level. Her face had indeed softened, which… He wasn’t sure if he should see it as something positive, really.
At least, she didn’t look like she was going to kill him, so that was that, he supposed…
-“Aw, look at what you did,” she cooed with “compassion”, though he knew very well she wasn’t able to feel such an emotion. No, she was just a cold-hearted monster. Ha.
Then again, not the time for puns.
He glanced back at her, obvious fear visible in his eyes. What was she going to do to him…? More tears rolled down his cheeks, stinging his face with how low the temperature was in the room. Should they go lower, his tears would most likely freeze on his skin…
-“I told you to stop, didn’t I?” she continued with the same cooing tone, except this time it had a reproach side to it. Snatcher didn’t answer, too terrified to do so, only able to wait for his terrible fate. However, his silence didn’t seem to please Vanessa and she reached to his right ear, pinching it as a parent would do to a disobedient child, and pulling it up.
-“Didn’t I?” she urged him, irritated once more, and Snatcher just knew she was waiting for an answer.
-“Y-yes!” he gasped from the pain, sobbing more while his head tried to follow the movement for it not to hurt too much: “Yes, you… You did!”
As if this was enough, the Queen slowly let go of his ear… And instead, let her hand wander on his face, stroking it with affection. Her expression turned mother-like again and she tilted her head to the side, staring at him with tenderness.
What the Hell was going on…? Snatcher couldn’t move, paralyzed as he felt her sharp claws caressing his cheek, the only movements coming from him being shivers. That only reminded him of that time in the cellar… That time where she had frozen his right eye…
-“You look so much like him…” was her next sentence and the expression on her face turned to some sort of nostalgia, one that the previous ghost really, really didn’t like: “Is it why you’re trying to run away so bad?” she then asked with a lower tone, her hand suddenly tensing on his cheek.
Oh no. Oh no, Snatcher knew exactly this intonation, and this wasn’t good in the slightest. And just like he had thought…
-“Why do I bother?” added the Queen, her features hardening from what seemed to be both anger and frustration: “What if you’re just like him? Ready to leave for someone else, abandoning me and leaving me forever?”
Snatcher’s eyes widened as the gears in his mind turned and turned and turned- until he was starting to understand what was going on. Vanessa was in fact trying to-
-“Maybe you’re not worth my help,” she concluded, coldly, her eyes soon turning to daggers, just like they had been hundreds of years ago.
The Queen was seeing him as a kid who needed guidance, someone she could take care of in her own sick way, and the reason for that had probably to do with his appearance. She was mistaking him as a child who looked like her old lover, a child she could teach how to behave, a child she could control… A child who could fill the hole in her cold, dead heart.
And this was just terrifying- though this was nothing compared to what the former shade felt as he saw her lifting her clawed hand up, ready to end his life once and for all. Oh no. Oh no. No, no, no, no-!
-“W-wait!” he shouted with a loud, panicked voice, hoping the Queen would stop- even if just for a second. Snatcher had to say something, anything! His life depended on the words he would use, literally. Any mistake, any wrong sentence, and this would be over for him.
He had experienced it once, and this was more than enough.
To his greatest relief, the shadowy monster stopped, her motion interrupted as she watched him intently- he could tell she was waiting for what he had to say. This was his chance, his only chance.
-“I-I don’t know w-who you’re talking about,” he lied, his voice trembling and his chest heaving up and down from how scared he was: “I-I’m sorry for trying to leave, I was…” he gulped down, his eyes fixed on the hand that had been so close to killing him again: “I was scared. I’m… I don’t know better, I need…” he continued, trying to find what she wanted to hear. But would she believe him…? There was only one way to find out.
-“I n-need guidance,” he gulped down again, afraid of Vanessa’s reaction to his words. But then again, what other choice did he have in a situation like this ? “I… You know best, and I… I’m just a child. I… I know nothing.”
His lower lip was trembling as he stared at Vanessa, his body trembling. What was she going to do after that? Would she listen to him, or would she kill him just like she had years ago? The suspense was unbearable… If she didn’t end his life first, then his heart would do the job just fine by pounding more than what his body could handle. And after a few seconds, ones that had seemed like hours, days, no, centuries to Snatcher… Vanessa lowered her hand slowly, a tender and yet sick smile taking place on her features again. A few giggles left her mouth, but the child knew that they were nothing but poison.
No matter how human Vanessa seemed to behave sometimes… It was impossible for him to forget what she had done to Subcon, what she had done to the village, what she had done to its inhabitants and… What she had done to him.
-“Oooh…” she cooed affectionately, and while Snatcher hated that sound… He felt safer. Apparently… Apparently his words had worked enough to touch the Queen which, in his situation, was more than anything he could have asked for.
-“How cute,” she mused to herself, before focusing her attention on the former ghost once more: “Perhaps you’re not entirely like him… Maybe I could teach you how to be a suitable heir to the throne,” she told him, before adding in a lower voice, almost to herself: “And I’ll make sure to turn you into the perfect prince, unlike him.”
Each of her last words sounded like venom on her tongue, like she was sickened just by mentioning his old self. Now, her resentment was now fully apparent and Snatcher was more than relieved to know she hadn’t put two and two together about who he really was… Otherwise, he was certain that this icy, clawed hand would have ended his life without even giving him the chance to save himself.
His thoughts were interrupted as he saw her hand hovering above his trapped feet… And suddenly, the ice turned to snow, finally giving him the possibility to crawl away. However, the moment he tried to pull his feet away, an acute pain instantly stopped him, making him cry out: his ankle was still very much broken. The Queen seemed to notice this and she covered her mouth in a way that lacked sincerity.
She was just playing the role of the perfect Princess, reacting like the social rules used to dictate her behaviour in public- but now, whether it was out of habit or because she actually wanted to act this way, Snatcher just loathed her even more. Oh, how he wanted to put an end to her life, once and for all, to finish what he had never had the courage to do.
This needed to be done if he wanted Subcon to be safe someday, perfectly safe-
-“Don’t worry,” she told him softly, trying to reassure him like one would try with a scared animal. But the former ghost was anything but a scared pet, and this only terrified him even more. She extended her arms to him, as if she wanted to pick him up- the motion made Snatcher panic once more and he tried to crawl away again. However, despite what his survival instincts were urging him to do… All he could do was to stop, the pain preventing him from fleeing what seemed to be inevitable now. Not listening to his sobs, to his scared whimpers, the Queen lost no time in picking him up like one would do to a kid-
But that was what he had become, right? A useless, powerless kid, unable to save his friends, not even able to save himself! Rage fuelled him again, but not against Vanessa. This time, he was furious at himself, furious for being so weak, furious for not being capable of defending himself- he could do nothing, nothing but just wait for it to end.
What other choice did he have in his condition? He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight Vanessa, couldn’t wait for his friends to come and save him! From what had happened with the Time Piece, he had no idea if they had survived, and if the bow-wearing kid hadn’t found a way to escape the ice prison Vanessa had built around her, then… Then she was most likely dead.
This was the worst case scenario of this whole situation. More tears left his eyes, wetting his cheeks even more, stinging the places where his previous tears had frozen, had burnt his skin- all he could feel was fear and despair.
The joyful Queen readjusted her grip on him and held him like a toddler in her arms, ignoring his sobs and his trembling. No, on the contrary, she seemed like she was voluntarily not paying attention to them, only focusing in the beautiful and perfect reality she thought she was living in.
-“There we go, there we go,” she patted his back and, to Snatcher’s greatest horror, she started to walk towards the door leading to the hallway again.
Where was she taking him…?
As if she had guessed his thoughts, she merely smiled happily, laughing again with that awful giggle of hers:
-“Aw, don’t worry,” she tried to reassure him again: “A young prince like you could use some rest after hurting yourself like that,” she explained, before smiling again: “Luckily, I have a spare room for you!”
The former ghost’s mind was soon plagued by confusion. A spare room? He didn’t remember such a thing when he used to live in the mano- but then, it hit him. There was indeed a spare room in this cursed place.
The nursery they had commissioned for the child they eventually never had. And Vanessa was taking him there.
This was a pure nightmare… A nightmare Snatcher wouldn’t be able to escape that easily.
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Well, someone is going to have a good nap in a perfectly not scary nursery :)
I hope you liked this chapter, thank you so much for your likes and reblogs (also I read your tag and aaaAAAH THANK YOU) !
=> Chapter 23
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anki-of-beleriand · 4 years ago
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And, okay, this is the second part and still don't know what am doing exactly but, hope you like it @aduialel thank you for the idea!
ThranduilxReader - sort of
GlorfindelxReader friendship
Modern Reader, mentions of Elrond and Celebrian
Here is the first part, if you wanna give it a chance
The wine is quite delicious; you are always quite surprise at how it slides down your tongue leaving behind a fruity taste. You are not used to this kind of beverages, but you have learnt to love them in the last couple of months you have been trapped in this strange, yet so familiar world.
Your companion says something and you have to shake your head to go back to the conversation. He looks highly amused by your distraction; you wince because you know he will tease you mercilessly once you have gone back to his place. You should have never said anything about this party, or the particular elf that have caught your attention.
“I think, my lady, that you are highly distracted.” Glorfindel says and you roll your eyes, then he places a hand on your shoulder and leans in whispering in your ear. “And the reason of your distraction is coming over.”
You tense because really one encounter was enough for a day. You can sense the tension on your shoulders, that empty pit on your abdomen and the fluttering of butterflies in your heart as he approaches. He is not alone, he comes with Elrond and another elf, his eyes are completely focused on you though his face seems to be a mask of pure indifference those eyes burn with emotion.
“Ah, Glorfindel, fancy seeing you here.” He says and Elrond shoots him an exasperate stare while Celebrian merely rolls her eyes.
Glorfindel arches a single eyebrow bowing his head, “Thranduil, it has been quite some time, how have you been?”
“I’ve been doing fantastic, though Elrond here was wondering quite a few things and we thought you and your companion can help us clarify.”
Now it is Elrond the only looking completely flabbergasted at this declaration, you hide your smile behind your goblet because this is really strange but funny at the same time. When you arrived in this strange world you never entertain the idea of getting to know the characters that have been filling your dreamless nights, or the stories you have been working on. You think briefly on all your WIPs back home and shake your head knowing they will forever be in that status.
Someone pokes you on the side and you notice you have been staring at Thranduil more than you should, and they have stop talking at some point. You can feel your cheeks warming up in embarrassment, but it is your eyes and your smile the ones that betray this.
“Right, I…wasn’t paying attention. What was it?” You try to sound sheepish and apologetic but Thranduil doesn’t seem to be impressed by this.
“Lord Thranduil was asking for your name.” Glorfindel sounds completely and utterly amused and you shoot him a stare that says you will kill him later. Or try to.
You turn to Thranduil who is waiting for an answer, Elrond and Celebrian both decide to not be part of this though they stay watching the interaction with growing amusement on their part. You smile politely an introduce yourself, the name that escapes your mouth is the one Glorfindel bestowed upon you on your first meeting when he saved you from a certain dead as soon as you arrived to Middle Earth.
Thranduil arches an eyebrow as if contemplating the veracity of what you just say, and as he does this you also take a closer look. He is ageless though there is something youthful in him, perhaps it is his clear eyes that show no pain nor any sadness or coldness, this is a time before Sauron breaks havoc so you know nothing beyond the Fall of Doriath has happened. He is still young, and perhaps happy. There is no wife as of yet, and he is vain and extrovert though right now, for some unknown reason, he looks highly offended though the conversation soon moves to different topics.
You can seem to stop your eyes from wandering back to Thranduil and he seems to be under the same kind of predicament. Though you can’t help but think his reasons are different to yours, your little crush really have you wanting nothing more that touch that silky hair of his or to see those eyes and that beautiful smile he seems to wear only behind a mask of sarcasm and arrogance.
“It seems you are easily distracted,” his voice is deep taint with amusement and his blue eyes gleam as they look down on you, “is my presence uncomfortable to you?”
You narrow your eyes, for the very first time noticing you two are alone. Glorfindel has been dragged away by Echtelion and Elrond is back on the dance floor with Celebrian. Your eyes go back to Thranduil who seems to wear a smirk and wait for an answer.
“No, of course not.” You answer trying to keep your cool, but really he is suddenly far too close to you. “But, I do get distract easily it’s just….I’m not used to all of this.”
You wave your hand around and Thranduil seems to contemplate you for a moment, he turns to the room and then his eyes are back on you.
“You mean celebrations? Or, elves in general?” He asks with a single eyebrow lift and you shift uncomfortable for a moment, no one knows you real origins. No one but Glorfindel and Echtelion, you are not overly excited to share it with anyone else because they don’t need to know.
You turn to Thranduil and your heart speeds up when his eyes settle on you, he really has such beautiful eyes. You shake your head and shrug.
“I’m not pretty good at social gatherings.”
“Whatever not?” Thranduil replies genuinely surprised. “They are the best to spend a tiresome day fill with routine.”
“I prefer to read, or just to hang around with my closest friends.” You want to tell him you also prefer to hear music or watch movies but…
Thranduil then tilts his head, “Friends? It was quite shocking to see Glorfindel it is such a friend, I did not know he mingle with mortals.”
You tense turning to Thranduil furrowing your brows, “why not?”
Thranduil seems genuinely surprise by the question, he gives you a quick glance pursing his lips.
“Why would one of the Eldar mingle with a mortal? It is but a brief blink of an eye to us, to create attachments seems foolish.” He says as if this was a universal law, his words hurt you deeply but they also infuriate you.
“What a stupid thing to say.”
“Excuse me?” He turns to you rather shocked that someone seems to say something like that to him.
“I said that’s a pretty stupid and ignorant thing to say.” You retort looking at him who was now lancing at you with narrow eyes. “Why would you deny yourself a friendship for such an stupid reason? You are not invincible, and you can also die by fading or sword, so you stop having friend or lovers because of it?”
“Lovers?” He says the word with a strange glint in his eyes, there is something you are missing in this conversation but now Thranduil is back with a fire in his eyes as he tries to intimidate you with his height and stare. “It takes too much effort to try and build a relationship with someone who is to die and whither with time, it simply has not sense.”
Your hand tightens around the cup of wine, your really are quite offended by those words mainly because in your head you though this conversation would go differently. Perhaps, you imagine yourself getting to know Thranduil and befriend him and maybe, just maybe, getting a kiss or two; really all the fanfics you read fill your head with impossible dreams. Now, he is just an arse, and you want to hit him for such harsh words.
“How petty of you, Lord Thranduil.” You said with all the animosity you could muster. “Either way, my friendship with Glorfindel is none of your business and thank the heavens you are not to decide this, nor I am interested in forging a friendship with someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” He looks downright offended, and now you are completely certain no one has spoken to him in such a manner.
“Yes! A complete brute, insensitive, idiot.” You take a deep breath shaking your head, “now, if you excuse me, I think my friend is calling for me.”
Thranduil is left alone, shocked and completely outrage at such treatment. No one and you really mean no one has ever dared to treat him in such a disrespectful way. He sets to follow you and you don’t realize it until his hand wraps around your arm turning you around mid-stride.
“Apologize.” He demands and you can help but laugh.
“Really? Whatever for?”
“Your rudeness for starters, you should not speak in such a disrespectful way to a lord.” He says as a way of explanation, you snort taking his hand in yours to disentangle it from your arm.
“Right, let’s get something straight, I don’t apologize to my mum, whatever makes you think I will apologize to you, lord or not?”
He seems annoyed; his eyebrows are knit together as if he is looking for an explanation. You purse your lips looking away before speaking.
“But don’t worry Lord Thranduil, you will not see this rude girl ever again, so you won’t have to deal with my rudeness anymore.”
“Why?” He asks and you stop death on your tracks.
“What?”
“Why I won’t see you anymore?” He asks surprising himself, his blue eyes glaze over for a moment before the settle on you with decision.
You gape, because that’s strange thing to ask but, then you shake your head and step back.
“Because, we won’t see each other again?” You kind of ask, kind of answer not really knowing what to say.
He seems to pounder over this straighten himself up, “And, why not?”
Again, he seems surprise at his own question and boldness, you are just confuse because, really? What the hell?
“Uh, you don’t deal well with me being honest?”
“Rude, you were being rude.”
“I was being honest, that it came out rude because I call you an idiot is of no consequence to me.” You reply stepping back a little. “And, we won’t see each other again, because I do no fancy having to see or talk with someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” He asks offended all over again, and this time around you look rather amused.
“Yes, someone like you.” You reply taking another step back, he seems to pierce you with his eyes before asking.
“What do you mean someone like me?” He asks and, just because you can and you’re still mad you answer.
“An idiot.”
He is left there with a strange expression on his face and, while you do not know it, he is already working on a way to see you again.
Only because it is Thranduil the one who should always have the last word.
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