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raisinghellonstarbug · 4 years ago

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Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

#james acaster #james acaster fanfic #james acaster x reader #james acaster x you #original female character #original male character #original story #off menu #eventual romance #slow burn

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years ago

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Never Such A Blizzard Before

This is real long for a drabble, hope you like it @madygswich

Also I've posted this like 3 times now, it does not want to show in the tags man 😭

Packing for the holidays was not your favourite thing. All of your flatmates had already left for home, and from what you could tell the rest of the dorm had cleared out too. So naturally you did what anyone would do when they thought they were home alone… you turned up your Christmas music as loud as you could and danced around, clearing the rest of your mess from around the communal spaces. You were midway through a tango with the mop when you spotted him watching you from the apartment opposite yours. His nose is scrunched from the giggles you can’t hear through the glass. Heat rises to your cheeks as you quickly abandon your inanimate partner and duck into the safety of your bedroom. Of all moments for Jeon Jungkook to notice your existence, it had to be this one.

Jungkook was fairly well known around your dorm as the quiet cutie. Everyone wanted to talk to him, but he tended to stick to a fairly small friendship circle, much to all of the girls’ dismay. He was stunning. And there he was laughing at you.

You go to the turn your speaker down when it cuts out of its own accord. Frowning, you attempt to get it working again, but its no use. Then you notice the lamp on your desk had also gone out. Before you get a chance to test any of your other appliances, there’s a knock at the door. An equally puzzled looking Jungkook is now at your door. You open it for him to come in.

“Sorry to intrude on your… dance class? But nothing in my apartments working and you are the only other person I know is still here.” He states

“Yeah, my stereo and lights have all gone out too.” His brow furrows.

“Right okay, I’ll call the accommodation office. Hopefully, someone will still be there, and we can get this sorted soon.” Jungkook takes out his mobile and you take the chance to look at him up close. His new undercut does wonders for his jawline, the soft curl just adding to the effect. His lose-fitted black jumper and black skinny jeans suit him well, a signature style you’ve noticed. Despite his good looks Jungkook didn’t seem to like bringing too much attention to himself. Unfortunately, by concealing himself it just left more people wondering what was underneath. You are brought out of your thoughts when he scoffs at his phone before putting it back in his pocket.

“What did they say?” You ask trying not to stare any longer.

“Powers out.” You roll your eyes at the blunt answer.

“Did they say how long?”

“Nope.” He says popping the p. “They didn’t seem to give a shit to be honest, looks like we are just going to have to keep ourselves entertained until it hopefully comes back on its own.” He shrugs and starts looking around your apartment. “I’m Jungkook by the way, your Y/N right?” he sits himself down at your kitchen table, swinging his legs on to the chair next to him.

“Um, yeah Y/N… Aren’t you supposed to be going home for Christmas?” you moved to feel the kettle and are relieved to find it’s still warm. “Drink?” you try to avoid his gaze as his eyes follow you around the room.

“I’ll take tea if you have it… but, yeah I’m going home but not for two days. My family aren’t even home right now so there wouldn’t be a point. Why are you still here?” it really feels like his eyes are going to bore a hole in the back of your head as you busy yourself.

“My family all work running up to the holidays, if I went home, I’d just be alone for the next week, at least this way I get to be alone without my mom yelling at me to wake up as she leaves in the morning.” You shrug and try not to dwell on it any longer. Placing the tea in front of Jungkook, you take a seat opposite him before taking a sip of your own drink. You savour the warmth in silence for a little while. Every so often one of you will catch the other looking, he starts pulling silly faces when you catch him, making you giggle in return. Eventually you find your way into an easy conversation, you tell him about your course. He listens like he actually cares about the mundane inner workings of your course work. You return the favour, asking intricate question about his film course, the only difference being you find his genuinely interesting.

“You got a pack of cards, and some torches?” He asks, sitting up right.

“We’re at university… of course I have a deck of cards, as long as you don’t mind the beer stains that is and I think there is a big torch in the place” You point to a cupboard by the door and he fetches them back.

“If we can’t use anything electronic, we might as well do some good old fashion gambling” there’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he shuffles the deck. “How about strip poker?” the look on your face must’ve been quite the picture as he starts laughing immediately. “Okay… how about alcohol? We can bet sips and shots, that’ll help warm us up too.” You nod and leave the room.

You return with a bottle of vodka, lemonade, and two red solo cups. You watch as he pours a dangerous amount of liquor into both cups followed by about a thimble of mixer. For someone who kept to himself so much, he sure was eager to get drunk with a stranger. You snatch the lemonade from his grasp and pour more into your cup. You start with blackjack, a civil game, 1 or 2 sips bet at most. You can’t help but giggle at the face he pulls trying to swallow his almost straight vodka. You then switch to schlumpf, a game with six rounds: the first four involve guessing the next card in the deck, the fifth is trying to get rid of those cards, the sixth involves only the person with the most cards - they must face the pyramid (climb up four layers of cards without turning a face card).

You find yourself fairly tipsy after a few rounds. Fairly tipsy and extremely cold…

“Hey, did we check if the heating worked?” Jungkook seems surprised by your question.

“No… we really should’ve huh?” the boiler is hidden in a cupboard in hallway, you rush from the room to check.

“Nothing” you sigh “Heating’s broken.” You call behind you, just to find Jungkook had come with you. You nearly smack straight into him as you turn back towards the kitchen. Your lips a hairbreadths away from his, tension building between the two of you. He glances at your lips and then back at your eyes, asking for permission, but you’ve already lost focus. Something catches your eye out of the large window and the end of your hallway.

“OH MY GOD!” you pull back from him a rush to look outside. He lets a frustrated breath out through his nose before following you to see what was going on. “It’s snowing!” he watches you as you watch the snow, admiring the adorable grin that has taken over your face. He takes in the way your eyes sparkle with the light from the streetlamps reflected in them.

“Wait what time is it?” he asks, suddenly aware of how dark it’s gotten outside. You hadn’t noticed the world dimming around your games. You glance at your watch and your eyes go wide.

“3am…” you look up at him and notice how close he is again. Stood directly behind you, if you took half a step back, you’d be in his arms. “Did you want to stay here… I mean it would be warmer if we stayed together… I mean if you want…” you stutter through stupid excuse to try to get him to stay the night.

“Yeah, you know what that seems like a great idea, sharing body heat or whatever.” His nose scrunches in the cutest way possible and he wraps an arm around your waist. “Anything to stay warm.” He whispers into your ear making you shiver. His embrace is gone as quickly as it was there. “Do you have enough blankets? Or do you want me to fetch mine? We could make a little fort to protect us.” There’s no way you’re turning down that offer. You settle in your bedroom and give him the torch and your door keys so he can go in search of more bedding. You sit there wrapped in your duvet a staring out the window and the settling snow until he comes back with more pillows than anyone should ever own in hand. He has also switch into a plain white t and grey sweats, a look classic enough to make anyone hot under the collar. You try not to focus too much on his pj’s focus the torchlight on your building site instead.

By the time you’re finished with construction, you are exhausted. You don’t really think about it as you cuddle into Jungkook amongst your mountain of pillows and blankets. All you know is you are cosier than you have ever been.

When morning arrives, you are all to aware of who you are snuggled up with, even more aware of his morning wood poking into your back. You wriggle a little, trying not to wake him, but he just sleepily pulls you back into him. You resign yourself to your fate and instead revel in the warmth his body provides.

“Good morning” he mumbles sleepily kissing your hair before realising where he is and who you are. “Oh um… sorry… that was weird.” He then swivels his hips as he realises what position you are in. He doesn’t, however, release you from his embrace. “Apparently I just can’t help myself around a pretty girl.” You feel the deep blush that creeps up your cheeks and try to hide it in his chest.

“It s’okay.” You mumble into him. He chuckles at your reaction and strokes at your hair.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

“Look at me?” you pull your head back from your hiding spot and tilt your chin upwards, only to have your lips met with his. Slightly stale from sleep, but somehow still amazing. It doesn’t help the shyness you had been feeling, and it definitely doesn’t help the situation going on his sweats. He pulls away all too soon for you. “So… was that okay?”

“Yeah… yeah that was okay.” You’re a little breathless as you answer.

“Cool… so I’m going to go brush my teeth but, do you want to continue this when I come back? Or I can just not come back… completely up to you… although I do think it’s going to be really cold again today, and it did seem to work better with two people for heat and…” you cut off his nervous babble with another quick kiss before peeling back the covers and letting the cold air in.

“Continuing sounds great, but you better hurry because you’re going to get cold real quick, and if you think I’m going to let you back in here with cold hands, you’re dreaming.” You tease, gaining confidence in his sudden lack. His bunny smile shows as he leaps out of bed, practically running from your apartment to his. While he is gone you brush your own teeth and find your condoms (it’s been a while). You peel back the curtains a little and are shocked to find the snow still going strong. At least two foot covers sparkles on the floor as the blizzard continues.

You scramble back under the covers when you hear footsteps approaching. He flings back the duvet making you squeal as he straddles you and places cold hands under your shirt.

“What did I say about cold hand!” you cry as he warms them on your stomach.

“You said you wouldn’t let me back in… but I’m not in, I removed the blanket completely. Although I am now seeing the floor in that plan” he drags the duvet back over your bodies.

“It’s all well and good putting the blanket back now, but I’m already cold.” You pout.

“Oh… let me help you with that.” He dips down so his body covers yours completely. He kisses you deeply, much more passionately now that he is minty fresh. He waits until you can’t breathe properly and then moves on to trailing his lips along your chin and down your throat. “Willing to get a little colder to get a lot hotter?” he asks signalling to the hem of your shirt. You bite your lip and nod. “God your hot.” He bends to kiss you once more before doing away with the unwanted fabric. His hot tongue circles one of your nipples, playing with it until its stiff. When he’s satisfied, he moves to the other side doing the same while one of his hands plays with the abandoned peak.

You moan as he bites sensitive skin. He doesn’t leave you long to revel in the pleasure. His fingers dip into your waistband a tug. You lift your hips and allow him to shimmy your pants low enough to play with your core. His left-hand pinches at your clit as his mouth returns to yours, swallowing the desperate whines that tumble form your lips as he teases two fingers at your entrance.

“Tell me how much you want me babygirl.” You arch into his hand at the pet name.

“So…o mu...ch” you pant, not able to manage more. But it’s enough for Jungkook as he pushes both fingers into you. The stretch burns so nicely as he scissors and thrusts into you. It’s difficult to focus on him as he shuffles down your bed for his mouth to join his hand.

“Look at me Y/N” his voice is low and commanding. You use everything in you to meet his eyes as his lips wrap around your clit and suck. The sensation makes you squeal. His response is to go harder. The heat in the pit of your stomach grows until you feel like you might explode. Your orgasm overtakes you, coating his fingers and chin as he continues his endeavours. You ride his fingers until you come down, gasping hard from the release.

“Can you take me?” you meet his eyes and find nothing but lust within the deep brown. You nod enthusiastically, reaching for the condom you prepared. He chuckles as he slides his own pants down. He rips the small blue packet open and slides it easily on to his hard length. You kick your pants the rest of the way down your legs while he sorts himself out, freeing up your movement. Unable to hold back any longer, you wrap your arms around his neck and drag him back down to meet you. Your lips lock together, tongues exploring one another, you can still taste yourself on him. It takes you by surprise when he enters you.

You let a low whine as he gets thicker the further in he pushes. Your nails claw into his back at the small “fuck” that leaves his mouth when he’s all the way in. You wriggle your hips under him, desperate for friction and he groans.

“You keep doing that and this isn’t gonna last long.” He bites down hard on his lip and tries to focus on controlling his thrusts. Each smack of skin is accompanied by a grunt, the speed dizzying as you feel your high approaching for a second time.

“Jungkoo..” you whine as you clench around him, just to be left empty as he pulls out of you. You pout at the loss, sad as your high disappears.

“Turn over baby girl.” He helps you flip and presses back into you with little warning. The new angle feels amazing. Never having felt so full. He pulls almost all the way out of you before pushing hard all the back in, hitting every nerve you have on the way. He supports your quivering form with his strong arms. You’re not sure when he abandoned his shirt, but you are pulled back against his sweaty chest. Your high builds back up so fast you nearly get whiplash. This one even more intense than the last. He drops your spent body back on to the mattress and grabs onto your bum for purchase as he goes harder than ever chasing his own high.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum, buried deep inside of you. It takes him a moment to recover, resting his hands on your back before pulling out and tying the end of the condom.

“I almost don’t want the heating to get fixed if this is going to stay an option.” He says collapsing next to you and recovering you both with the blankets.

“I’m sure we could do this again even if the heating comes back on you know…”

Masterlist

#bts fic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #bts xmas 20 #100

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 4 years ago

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Robron week - day 5

I'll try to love you, best I can

Just made it! This wasn't originally what I was going to do for today but the Paddy story might take a little longer, so have another little look into the world I've created this week. I think most people have done a redo of the scene in the woods in SSW16 but here's mine anyway! I've also played a little fast and loose with the prompt and it's more hidden love than forbidden but close enough ;)

(AO3 link)

The door to the flat slamming behind him had a horrible sense of finality to it. He could've stayed, could've tried harder but he couldn't see the point any more. There was just no way around the elephant in the room.

He keeps walking to his car, head down, hands stuffed in his pockets hoping no one tries to talk to him because he’s not in the mood.

“Aaron! Aaron wait!” He doesn’t, keeps walking because he’s afraid he’ll end up saying something he’ll regret if he turns round. “Aaron come on, this is stupid.”

“Go home Robert.”

“No. We’re going to sort this now.”

“Go on then. Go tell your sister about me.” Robert doesn’t say anything just stares at the ground. “That’s what I thought. Go home Robert.” He’s not sure whether he’s relieved or disappointed when he does as he told him.

It’s an old argument, well a good month anyway even if it feels a lot longer. He’s fed up with sneaking around. At first it had been fun, new and exciting but now he wanted everyone to know how happy he was. His Mum had noticed and he’d been fobbing her off, even people at work were remarking on it, but he couldn’t tell them why because Robert was being so stubborn. He wouldn’t even talk about it so he had no idea if there was a reason behind it or if he was just being bloody minded.

He doesn’t see him for the next day or so, he’d taken on a double shift to earn some extra money and he’s about ready to drop when he gets home. His Mum collars him into having a pint because ‘it’s been too long since we had a chat Aaron’ so he’s propping up the bar while she flits around serving the customers, the chat looking like it’ll never happen.

He’s about to leave when Robert walks in with Vic and he can’t help but look at him, sees him avoid his gaze, making a point of checking on Seb at his side. So that’s how it’s going to be.

“Mum I’m going in the back.” He’s nearly through when Seb slams into his legs and whatever his problem with Robert he won’t turn him away. “Hey monkey.”

“Will you eat with us? We’re having chips cos we’re moving!” He hates how his heart drops at the words. Robert hadn’t mentioned anything and it feels pretty clear in his mind that it’s the reason he hasn’t told anyone about them, that it wasn’t going to last and now they were moving away.

It’d been six months since that night in the hospital, not much less since they went out for a drink, what turned into their first date, and he’d thought everything was good, that this was finally a relationship he could get right. Looks like he was wrong.

“Not tonight Seb. I’m really tired. Ask your Dad if I can take you to the park tomorrow and you can tell me all about it, eh?” He runs off happy enough with the excuse and he watches as he whispers to his Dad, Robert’s eyes finally meeting his. He wonders if he looks like that. He probably does, but there’s nothing either of them can do unless Robert makes a decision. He’s hidden before and he’s not doing it again.

He’s barely in his room when Robert’s there, looking sad maybe a little annoyed.

“Robert I’m tired. I’ve just done a double shift.”

“You should quit.”

“Not this again.” If the argument about them hiding was old, this one was even older. He’d only mentioned an old dream in passing and now Robert had taken it upon himself to bring up a change of career at every opportunity. If he could be stubborn about telling people then Aaron could be stubborn about this.

“You could be getting the experience you need to get the job you want, not wasting time pushing people around in trollies.”

“I like my job.”

“No you don’t. You do nothing but moan about it. What are you so afraid of?”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Aaron…”

“Were you going to tell me you were moving or was I just going to turn up at the flat one day to find you gone?” He looks taken aback and Aaron gets a fizz of satisfaction. “If you didn’t want me to know you shouldn’t have told Seb.”

“It’s not…he overheard me telling Vic. It only happened today.” He scoffs. “I didn’t want to say anything unless it was a done deal.”

“Well good luck. I’m sure you’ll be happy. I’d say send me a postcard but…” He really hopes he’s hiding how hurt he is.

“What are you on about? We’re moving here. To Mill Cottage. I was going to surprise you.”

“Why?”

“Well…I thought, one day, that maybe we’d all live there.” It’s surreal but he’s sure Robert just asked him to move in and yet at the same time they’re still mid argument about being in the closet as a couple.

“And I’d be using the back door would I so no one saw me come and go.”

“Now you’re just being bloody ridiculous!”

“No, I don’t think I am. You won’t tell anyone about me, about us, so what else am I to think? I’ve been patient but I’m sick of hiding, and you know what, I think you are too. So unless you’re going to change that I don’t have anything to say.”

“So you’re blackmailing me into coming out?”

“No. Of course not. Robert you and I are never going to have a chance at a proper relationship if we have to pretend to be mates. You’re talking about moving in, is that as flatmates, or am I the nanny? It’s not going to be as boyfriends is it?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t. I’m going to bed. Night Robert.” He feels awful as he shuts the door in his face but he doesn’t have any energy left

He knew he was falling in love with Robert, had been for a long time and he adored Seb, but he wouldn't hide, not again. He wouldn't force Robert to go public but he couldn't stay hidden so they were at a stalemate. The house thing had thrown him though, clearly Robert wanted them to stay together, but how could they. He just didn’t understand what he was thinking.

He doesn't sleep a wink, everything whirling around his brain all night. If Robert had given a reason for it all then maybe he could understand but he just clammed up.

He doesn't hear a thing from Robert for days and he takes it to mean he's made his choice. His Mum keeps asking him why he's in such a mood all of a sudden and he can't answer her without a whole heap of explanations that he can't get into.

Even work isn't making him happy, his usual banter with patients is missing and he feels like he's sleepwalking his way through his days. He should do as Robert said, quit and try and fulfil his dream of being a play specialist or something along those lines, but he couldn’t quite convince himself to take the risk.

"Aaron!" The chair he's pushing comes to an abrupt stop as a familiar voice rings out across the orthopaedic department. He swings round to see Seb sitting on one of the chairs all alone.

"Hey monkey. where's your Dad?"

"He's talking to the doctor.” He answers legs swinging back and forth.

"Want me to sit with you?" Seb nods. "So, how's school?"

"Boring. Aaron, do you know why my Daddy's so sad?"

"No mate. Why do you think he's sad?"

"He's not smiley anymore. And you haven't come round for tea and he always smiles when you're there. I want him to be happy again, I don't want him to be sad." it all comes out in one big breath and it takes him a minute to work out what he's saying.

"Well everyone gets sad sometimes."

"But he wasn't before. Why don't you come round anymore? Don't you like us now?"

"Oh monkey, of course I do."He's beginning to realise that Seb is far more observant than either he or Robert gives him credit for.

“Will you help us, like you did before? Daddy says he doesn’t know where he would be without you so you must’ve helped. You can do it again, can’t you?” He can’t resist the pleading eyes and he hates how his and Robert’s problems have clearly started to affect Seb.

"Tell you what, I'll wait here with you and when Daddy comes out me and him will have a chat, eh?" Seb nods.

It's no more than five minutes when one of the doors opens and Robert comes out. His steps falter when he sees Aaron but he plasters a smile on his face and comes over to them.

"Hey." Aaron nods. "You ready to go Seb?"

"You said I could have a cookie. I want Aaron to come."

"Aaron's working mate. Come on, we'll make some cookies at home. Nana’s recipe, the ones you like."

"No! "The little boy sits back and crosses his arms and at any other time he'd laugh but right now he just feels awkward.

"I've got time for a coffee if..." Robert sighs, looking defeated. "It's up to you."

"Fine. Then you and me are going home, I mean it.”

Seb runs off to the little play area the hospital coffee shop has set up once he's all but inhaled his cookie and juice, leaving the two of them in silence.

“So..."

“How was his appointment?”

“All clear, it was just a final check up to make sure there’s no lasting problems with his leg and stuff.”

"He's noticed you know, that I don't come over anymore."

"Don't."

"I'm just saying. He told me you were sad. It's affecting him Robert. Probably far more than knowing the two of us are together would."

"This isn't the time or the place.”

"It never is though is it? Why am I bothering? Tell Seb I said goodbye.” He pushes himself up from the table, telling himself he tried, feeling bad for letting Seb down.

It's later that when there's a knock at the back door of the pub as he’s heading to bed and he just shakes his head when he sees Robert.

"I can't keep having the same fight over and over Robert."

"I just want to...explain I guess."

"Fine. Mum's upstairs though so... come through the front." He leads him into the darkened pub. "So what's changed since this morning?"

"Seb. Having a six year old pretty much tell you you're being dumb gives a different perspective."

"I didn't tell him..."

"I know. I did. Asked him how he'd feel if you came over more, maybe stayed over."

“And?" He feels like his heart is beating out of his chest, that maybe this is the start of them getting back on track.

“Apparently Tommy has two Daddies, Daddy. He reckons its fun and they do all this cool stuff. You were right. he's more clued in than I gave him credit for. Told me I should let you make us happy again.” He slumps back in the seat. "I wasn't just... being stubborn, it’s more than that."

"You can tell me you know. I was never pushing you to come out or have a parade Robert. I just didn't want you to be a dirty little secret again."

"I don't understand.”

"When I came out, it was tough, for a lot of reasons." He'd never told Robert about his childhood, maybe one day he'd find the courage to tell him how he'd taken Gordon to court, but not now, "And I didn't want to be gay, told Paddy I'd rather have no life than live a gay one."

“Aaron."

"Sorry, I didn’t...I was just trying to say…I do get it, but,"' he sighs, "Once everyone knew it was like...a massive weight had lifted off my shoulders. Then I met Ed and he wasn't out. You know he was a rugby player, it wasn't so easy for him, so we kept it hidden, even in France. That wasn't what broke us up, but it didn't help, there was all this added pressure. I promised myself then, no more hiding. I told you I'd not push, but if we're going to be anything then it can't be secret. Not again." It was too hard. He wouldn't do it again

"You won't have to. I want you, us. I meant it when I said I bought the house for us. I moved for Seb, so he could have a proper house with a garden and that, but when I saw the house I saw us living there. I wouldn't have got through the last few months without you and when you walked out that night I thought that was it, I'd ruined it all again.”

"Again?"

"I'm not good at relationships Aaron. I was married, and that crashed and burned because I slept with her sister, among others which is how Seb came to be. I mess everything up, always have. I don't want to do that to us."

"So what now, because we can’t carry on like this, it’s hell for all of us.”

"I... need to tell Vic first. She deserves that, and...can you just give me a bit more time." Aaron nods. They'd made progress. actually managing a conversation rather than Robert just staying silent. It was a start.

"Yeah, course. I just needed to know that I wasn't just... a passing phase I suppose, that I meant something and I know you said it, but everything else said otherwise. Um, have there been...I mean am I the first..." Aaron asks him, not sure what he wants the answer to be or even why he asked it.

"No...I promise I'll explain but, you look like you're going to expire. You should get some sleep.” Robert tells him when he lets out a yawn.

"Yeah, another double shift."

“Quit. I mean it Aaron. You’re running yourself into the ground for peanuts when you could do so much more.”

"Yeah yeah. Can we fight about one thing at a time?" Robert laughs. "I...I love you Robert". He hadn't meant to say it but he couldn't stop himself.

"I love you too. "

They stay there a bit longer. reluctant to part but another yawn has Robert pushing him to his feet, a promise to call his only goodbye. He falls asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in ages.

It's another few days before he catches a glimpse of Robert in the village, in the graveyard of all places, one afternoon, and he doesn't look himself. Maybe he shouldn't interrupt but he started in that direction anyway. They'd called and texted a lot since the night in the pub but as far as he knew Robert hadn't spoken to Vic yet and he meant what he said, he’d give him time.

He can't walk by though, there's something about his expression that has him hurrying his pace. He catches the end of what he's saying as he nears him.

" ... almost lost the best thing to ever happen to me." Aaron glances at the headstone. Jack Sugden. Robert's hardly ever spoken about his Dad but Aaron knows he was well respected in the village, but he knew as well as anyone now appearances can be deceptive.

"Rob? Am I interrupting?" He doesn't think he'd noticed him even though he'd got quite close. He looks awful. "Rob?"

"No. Nothing left to say to him."

"You look like crap."

"Cheers. You look a million dollars too." He follows as Robert starts walking away.

"So... just saying hello? Your Dad." If anything he looks worse than he had at the grave. "Come on." He leads him to the pavilion, flopping down onto the steps. "Come on, you can talk to me."

"Spoke to Vic."

"And?" He didn't think she would react badly, it'd be pretty out of character.

"Told her I was bi. She was great."

"So? What's got you as this state?" He's relieved at Vic being supportive No one else really mattered.

"She wanted to know why I hadn't told her before. kept on and on, you know how she can get. So I did, told her that Dad..." He stopped, staring down at the floor and Aaron slips an arm round him, an inkling now at what it's all about.

"He knew?"

"Kind of. He caught me. There was this farm lad. we had extra help on summer. This one year.."

"One of them caught your eye." Robert nodded. "And you two..."

"Yeah. In my room. Dad was out, or so I thought. He caught us. Sacked him on the spot, leathered me..."

“Oh Robert..." He doesn't know what to say, just holds him tighter.

"He reckoned it was for skiving but me and Andy skived all the time. I wasn't stupid, I knew what it was for. I was the disappointment. Andy was the perfect son, a mini Dad, Vic was the baby, and I was just not who he wanted."

"I'm sorry. I've been pushing. I didn't realise.”

"Why would you? I've been with men before, but it's always been one night, and then I'd push it to the back of my mind, be the son he wanted." He finally looks up at Aaron. "I don't want to do that with you, I don't want to feel like we should be ashamed or a secret. I never have, I just had to get my head on straight."

"And now?"

"Now...Vic knows…and the world didn’t end. I don't know how she feels about Dad. I never wanted her to know, to see him as anything other than her amazing Dad."

"She's a big girl, She'll cope. You're her amazing brother and she knows how amazing you are now, that's more important." He gets to his feet. "Come on, no more thinking about him, he’s not worth it. What do you say we fetch Seb from school and have a movie night, forget about everything?"

“But..." Robert stops and looks at him in surprise.

"What?"

"I thought you'd want to go to the pub, tell everyone?"

"All I wanted was to know that you were serious...that I wasn't just a distraction from all that you had going on. Let's face it when we started out you didn't know which way was up and I helped I know so..." It's daft, Robert's never made him feel like that but his insecurities had started to get the better of him the last few weeks and it had spiralled into this big thing. “Stupid huh.”

"Never. I love you, for you, not because you helped me out." He gets up, kissing him softly. "Movie night sounds amazing by the way. Although once we tell Seb I doubt we'll hear much of the movie."

"I don't care."

"While we're talking about stuff...have you thought any more about your job?" Aaron sighs loudly as they walk down the hill. "You could do it Aaron, I know it."

"It could take years." He knew, he'd looked it up years ago. It meant years of study, of placements and he didn’t know if he could do it, he didn’t have the confidence in himself.

"Planning on going somewhere?"

"Haha. And what do I do for money if I'm not working?"

"That's not...look I know you'll hate this but I could help."

"You need your money for Seb.” He knew Robert’s job paid well but he wasn’t rich by any means and now he had Seb full time there was a whole load of expenses on top of anything else.

"His Mum left him a fair sum, for uni and that if thats what he wants.” He stops, looking right at him. "I mean it. I want to help and I know you want it. You could be good Aaron. look how you helped Seb?"

"Yeah well, I had ulterior motives there."

"Oh yeah?" He grins, looking happy for the first time that day.

“Mmm." He feels lighter now they’re joking around and Robert looks more back to his normal self.

"Just think about it. You can study at Leeds, there’s no need to go away anywhere.”

“Been checking have ya? Fine, if it'll shut you up, I’ll think about it. Come on let's go home'.'

"Home now is it?"

"I didn't... I just meant..."

"It could be if you wanted? I meant what I said in the pub.”

"Really? You want me to move in?" Aaron feels like he's on the waltzers, everything is moving at lightning speed all of a sudden.

"If you want. I know it's fast but...I feel like I've already wasted so much time, I don't want to wait any longer. So what do you say?"

"Seb's going to burst in excitement.”

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, why not? Better than a room at the pub I guess.” Their laughter carries on almost the whole way to the house and Aaron feels like he doesn't stop smiling all day.

He's never been so happy and maybe Robert is right. He's made a hell of a leap, maybe Aaron should too.

#robron week #rw2021

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sunarintoes · 5 years ago

Text

Dear Whovever: [Kenma]

Synopsis: You and Kenma are both best friends and youtube gamers however you want to be more than just best friends so you decide to ‘man up’ one day and write a heart felt confession in a minecraft notebook before then putting it in Kenma’s personal chest.

WC: 3K

TW: slight swearing :)

[Episode one]

[recording in 3… 2… 1… start!]

“Hey gamers, Kodzuken here with Tulip-but-make-it-yellow! I've done a few Minecraft videos with Tulip before, but thought I'll start a new series that will be posted every Monday.”

“It's called Minedays with Tulip and Kodzu”

“I- no, Tulip. I'm not sure what we’re gonna call it. But you guys will know- obviously since it's the title of this video.”

You whine and pout into the monitor, “Kodzu I think Minedays is a cute name.”

Instead of replying Kenma rolls his eyes and hits you ingame. “Should we introduce the challenge and get it started?”

“Yeah that's a good idea!”

“Well, it's about eleven am right now, we have until eleven pm to build a Minecraft house from a random topic,” he pauses and moves to the side to point to a sectioned spinwheel, “on this bad boy,” whacks the spinner, “we have eight different themes, in a sec I’ll spin it and whatever it lands on will be what we have to build.”

You let out a high pitched ‘hmm,’ “I feel bad for Kuroo and Hinata, they’re both going to have to edit twelve hours of footage down to 10 minutes!”

Kenma chuckles, “fifteen minutes actually.”

This time you roll your eyes. “Hurry up and spin it you fool! I want to get buildinggg”

Smiling, Kenma moves back a bit and spins the wheel, after thirty seconds full of anticipation the wheel finally stops and its small arrow is pointing at- “Yes! Cottage core theme!” you yell out while Kenma groans.

“Really? That's lame why couldn't we have ‘Lucifer’s Bedroom’?”

You poke your tongue out to the monitor - which Kenma could see, after all, you are in a Discord call with him. “Don't be sad just because you're prancing in my turf…. Looooooser!”

Kenma playfully glares towards you, “You’re on! See you in twelve hours!”

Unfortunately, the difficulty of building a cottage core house in the woods - in survival mode, proved more difficult than planned.

“We spawned in a desolate area huh? Barely any flowers!” you hear Kenma make a sound of agreement as you sink into your comfortable ‘gamer’ styled chair.

“Don't tell me you've given up? Just because you can't find any flowers?”

You scowl at his cocky tone however your mood does a one-eighty when you suddenly get a good idea. “Ok everyone! I know what I have to do! I'm going to restart in another place because this isn’t working!”

Kenma makes a sound of surprise, “you're restarting? It's been an hour already-”

“Yeah and we have, like... eleven more.” Kenma sighs in response, “better get a move on.”

For the most part, the two of you kept quiet - not wanting to let the other know how well you were doing. However one look at your phone only to see that your twitter has blown up, you decide to take a short break, after all it has been four hours of you sitting on your ass playing Minecraft. Once you open Twitter you're met with a barrage of tags and mentions - all of which screaming ‘KenYn’ and ‘Kodzutulip.’ You felt heat rise to your face, you - yes you, Ln Yn with the online alias Tulip-but-make-it-yellow, has a big, fat, humongous crush on your best friend and fellow youtuber - Kenma, aka Kodzuken aka the cutest guy in the world. To make it worse - or better, you couldn't really tell, was that many of your viewers shipped you with him - as did his viewers.

You are of course, happy with this but you can’t help but wonder if Kenma feels the same way, does he feel weirded out by all this shipping content? Does he find it uncomfortable? Does he find it unsettling to be shipped with his in-real-life best friend?

“Hey Yn?” Kenma calls softly, “you've been looking at your phone for the past ten minutes and your face looks sad.”

You instantly look up to meet Kenma’s face and try to find the right words to say, “I… I’m just kinda tired and eventually got distracted!! Sorry Kenken!”

Kenma visibly cringes at the old nickname - the one you gave him in primary school, “if you say so… better get your head in the game though - my mansion looks epic.”

Your eyes narrow, “mansion? The theme is cottage core!” Kenma quietly chuckles in response, “a mansion can still have a fairy aesthetic, you should know that”

You huff in faux annoyance as you place your phone away and ‘get your head in the game’ just as he requested. “Be prepared to be crushed! I am the cottage core guardian!”

There are ten minutes left to your’s and Kenma’s excruciatingly long Minecraft challenge, your ass hurts from sitting on it for almost twelve straight hours - including bathroom breaks. When the buzzer rings the two of you step back from your respective buildings and make your way to the starting point - which had been marked by a stack of 20 or so dirt blocks.

“Well that was twelve hours of eye straining torture,” you say as you stretch your arms.

“You're tired already?”

“Kinda… I can't wait to go to sleep after this.”

“Weak, I’m playing Battlefield as soon as this is over.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, “this is why you look like a living corpse in the morning…”

Kenma looks you dead in the eyes and with a completely serious face he says, “yeah but you love it.”

You choke on your spit at his boldness, “y-yeah I guess.”

If you were being honest, you were not the best at reading people and it was dark in Kenma’s gaming room, the only light coming from his three screen/monitor computer setup, but you think you see a light blush creep up to his cheeks. And you hate it, you hate when he says things that make your heart flutter, you hate it when he just sits there and the digital glow accentuates all of his delicate features, but what you hate most is yourself. You hate yourself because you have fallen in love with your best friend, you hate yourself because you know he doesn't like you back and you hate that you continuously give yourself a sense of false hope.

“Yn… you want to stay up and game with me don’t you? ”

You sheepishly look to the side, ‘mayhaps.’

Kenma sighs looking at you with a soft face as he whispers “then I won’t play Battlefield and I’ll go to bed and so will you, ‘kay?”

You smile tiredly at him, “sounds like a deal.”

“We'll get back on at the same time tomorrow and we’ll do the final part of this video - the reveal. Until then.”

You smile and wave at the camera “cya soon~”

[recording over]

After your call with Kenma ended you got ready for bed but for some reason, no matter how tired you were, you just couldn't fall asleep - your mind was screaming obscene ideas that you couldn't help but contemplate. At first it was just wishful thinking but then came a thought that refused to leave, ‘confess.’

It was a tempting thought, but how? Surely you couldn't just say ‘hey Kenma I've liked you since high school lets date!’ yeah no, that was a horrible idea. Maybe if you confessed with some originality he would be more likely to accept but for now, you were going to do your best to go to sleep.

[Episode two]

[recording in 3… 2… 1… start!]

In the morning you woke up feeling refreshed and excited for the day to come, Kenma had texted you and asked if you were feeling up to recording the reveal from last night and episode two today and of course you said yes.

The video goes on without any troubles and soon you find yourself staring at the computer screen at eleven once again.

“Remember to like, subscribe and comment below on who you think won this round.” Kenma’s voice is soothing - if you had to describe it you would say that it is silky like honey and smooth like dark chocolate; or maybe you would just say his voice is perfect. Kenma waves to the screen monitor, “hello? Earth to Yn! Are you dead or something? You look like a zombie.”

It takes a while to register, you weren’t really paying attention to the words he said as you were more interested in the way he sounded. You sit up and smile into the camera, “I'm awake… thanks for caring!”

He scoffs and swivels in his chair a bit, “I don't care about you, you're just my idiot best friend and flatmate.”

You playfully narrow your eyes, “well this idiot flatmate of yours helped you bake apple pie so you wouldn’t starve to death!”

“Hmmm, I guess. Well I'm going to head off. I'll see you later.”

You smile softly, “yeah I'll see you later, i'm just gonna stay on for a while.”

Kenma looks at you with an intrigued expression, “you're going to stay up longer? Better not be in this world, that's cheating. Want me to stay up with you?”

You roll your eyes and giggle, “it's all good I want to fix my house up in the other world. I'll see you tomorrow.”

He sighs, “if you say so.”

[recording over]

Your chair rolls back as you stretch, “maybe I should confess to him through a Minecraft journal…” you jump up. “Thats it! Thats a great way to confess! Its original and Kenma would appreciate it…. If he accepts my feelings that is…”

You groan and slump back down into the chair, “maybe it’s best if I don't confess at all. No! I've wanted to do this for years! If he doesn't like me back it's all good! Maybe I just won't do this on a stream!”

You reach over to the bench and pull up your phone, “who to call, mmm ok let’s call Alisa I’m going to need some emotional support!”

“Hey gamers, Kodzu here in another Minecraft live stream, today we’re just in mine and Yn’s regular world and i'm going to build a house - a cottage to be specific,” he pauses and looks at the comment section; ‘no Yn isn't here right now, no Yn won't be joining this video, no I didnt know shes streaming at the moment, yes my favourite food is apple pie, yes I have a calico cat, no Yn is not my significant other, yes we are just friends.’ Kenma moves back and takes a breath, “wow you guys sure are interested in Yn huh? Maybe I should get them in more videos, might get more views that way,” he laughs a bit.

“Let's start off by heading to my base, I have the materials I’ll need there- oh uh what's this?” Kenma pauses as he stares at the foreign object, “I don't remember having a written book in my chest… maybe Yn went in here and put it in?”

Kenma stares at the book for a while before he opens it, only to be shocked. The comment section notices the blush on his face and continue to spam him with questions:

[kodzusbabe]: what's in that diary!!

[Kenmastan]: hahAAAHHA LOOK HE’S SO RED IN THE FACE

[piefacecutie]: ^^ omg you're so right @/Kenmastan hes so cute 💓

[Kenmaxyn]: I hope it's a confession!

[ynhater]: @/Kenmaxyn from who? Cause I didn't do it and I'd be the only one for Kenma oppAr

[kennismaken]: I hope it’s Yn! They’d be such a cute couple

[applepudding]: umm? Kodzu! Why did he get up and leave??

[ynhater]: babe come back!

[Kenmaxyn]: OMG MAYBE IT WAS YN !!!!

After your late night call with Alisa, you decided it would be best to just do it and then ignore Kenma for the day - well, not ignore him per se, just simply decline all his Discord calls and Facetime calls so you could put off being rejected a little while longer. You woke up with a throbbing headache that you could only blame yourself for, after all you are the dumbass who stayed up until God knows when just to write a heartfelt confession. Eventually the angst of waiting for a message from Kenma overwhelmed you and here you are now; streaming Overwatch to get your mind off of a certain someone.

“Ah no! Cant believe that stupid Hanzo got me! What a pain!” you frown at the screen and let out a sigh, “the round is over… bummer. Well while we wait an eternity for the next round I guess I should answer some of your questions… oh? I didn't know Kenma was streaming, no I’m not dating him… “ you feel your heart sink as you read the next comment; “what do you mean Kenma ran away after reading a book? Was he unhappy?”

The next moments felt like a blur, your heart was heavy and you felt tears well up in your eyes and somehow you missed the sound of someone breaking into your apartment and then your bedroom. Within a second you feel someone wrap their arms around you from behind, your body tenses up but immediately relaxes when you recognise the perpetrators scent; sweet yet salty, like caramel toffee.

“Kenma! W-what are you doing?”

“I like you too… I have for so long.”

Your eyes widen and it doesn't take too long for a smile to appear on your face, “I'm so glad to hear that.”

You feel him smile into your neck as his embrace tightens, “finish up your livestream so we can talk please.”

“You don't need to tell me twice!”

It is eleven at night once again, but this time you’re not sitting alone in your gaming chair, instead you're sitting on Kenma’s lap - in his gaming chair as he slowly runs his hands through your hair and softly kisses your neck.

“So everyone’s pretty much freaking out over us huh?” you hum in response, “we’ve been officially together for what? Five hours?”

“Correct you are.”

You smile and hold up your phone while you continue to cuddle into him, “smile baby, I want the whole world to know that you're my player two.”

[Bonus - the love letter]

Dear Kenma,

This must be so strange - finding a journal in your chest.

I have wanted to tell you this for quite a while and I guess I have never found the write words to say; or the right way to for that matter,

But I love you

I have loved you since our first year at Nekoma

It's been a while hasn’t it?

I'm sorry if this inconveniences you, makes you uncomfortable or makes you never want to see me again;

Just let me continue for a little while longer because I need to get this off of my mind.

I love your smile - especially the rare one where you really smile, where your eyes crinkle and your cheeks begin to hurt

I love your voice - it’s smooth and silky, like honey being spread across bread

I love your scent - it reminds me of salted caramel, I can never get enough

I love your mind - the way it works to make me laugh, make me calm and all else

I love your lips - not necessarily in a sexual way, but more so in the way you talk and speak, they move softly and slowly in a way only your lips could move in.

I love your body - how although you're hunched most of the time you still possess a fine elegance in the way you move. How at times it reminds me of a graceful swan floating down a lake.

I love your hands - they are so pretty and dainty and soft, I want to hold them all day and all night

And most of all;

I love you

I love you in your entire

I could go ahead and pick the parts I love most and least but then you would no longer be you

I love you in your entire

Flaws and all

I know this may not be the most romantic, especially considering you’re reading this through Minecraft and I've never done this before but I had to let you know

Love

Taglist: [open] @ladyrenart

note: sooo this is another style that i tried and i have mixed feelings about it :) also if you can’t tell,,, i’ve never written a love letter before :’)

#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #fluff #x reader #angst #kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kenma fluff #kenma angst #dear whoever #dear whoever: a haikyuu series #kozume kenma x reader

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quillandink333 · 4 years ago

Text

Like Birds of a Feather

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Modern AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Link, the owner of a small bakery in the middle of the big city, and Zelda, one of his most frequent customers, spend the holidays together.

Masterlist

It was nearly a quarter to eight, when the eastern horizon was just beginning to brighten with the rays of the early winter sun. The Patisserie on Lynel Avenue was decked with bows of holly from one end to the other, and sleigh bells were sounding from the stereo. The holiday season, one of my busiest times of the year, had arrived.

It had yet to start getting really busy—only one or two customers had come and gone so far—but my employees and I were prepared for them to start flooding in as soon as the clock struck nine. I was behind the counter, getting the last of today’s freshly baked goodies behind the glass. I had nothing against Christmas time, of course. In truth, I loved the cheerful atmosphere it brought about, and I had a lot of happy childhood memories of it. But I had to admit that the sudden spike in demand that came with it had me at my wit’s end on occasion.

There was one aspect of my life acting as the oil that kept me running smoothly, however, aside from the rise in income. Since three or four months back, I wasn’t really sure how long ago, but there was one customer who’d been coming in more regularly than any other customer that I could remember. All I knew was that it was some time after we’d started serving coffee and tea and the like. I hadn’t taken much notice of her the first two or three times she’d stopped by. The times after that was when she’d started to grab my attention.

She was rather unassuming in appearance, not boasting too many features that stood out. She seemed like the academic type, judging from her cutely oversized glasses and the way she was always carrying some textbook or another under her arm. The thing that endeared me to her most of all, though, was her insatiable sweet tooth. Every time she dropped in, she’d order something different. And every time, as she took her first bite of whichever one of my treats she’d picked that morning, she’d get this look of complete and utter catharsis, like all of her worries were all at once melting away. To sum up, I was smitten. She seemed to be made up of all the right things one needed to win me over without even having held a full conversation with me.

It wasn’t just these things that drew me to her, however. Every time I looked into those viridian eyes of hers, I was overcome with a striking sense of déjà vu that I couldn’t for the life of me explain. I had no belief in such things whatsoever, nor did I consider myself a spiritual person by any means, but it was truly as though I’d known her in a past life, or something along those lines. I was certain I’d never heard the name ‘Zelda’ in my life before I’d taken her order for the first time. Yet when I looked at her face, I couldn’t help but feel like she was someone important to me. Even though my memory had the tendency to fail me at times, there was no way I could’ve forgotten someone who was seemingly so significant.

It was for these many reasons combined that I found myself so inextricably charmed by her, counting the days between each of her visits to the bakery. They were also the reason my heavy heart became weightless when I saw her smiling face come through the door that morning. She gave me a friendly wave as she walked up to the counter.

“What can I get you today, Ms. Zelda?” I joked. Her little laugh was music to my ears as she looked over the menu and what there was out on display. It turned out she could be rather indecisive about her order at times, which was something I could tell she was conscious of as she grew more and more fidgety the longer she stood there. “No rush.”

She nodded with a small and ashamed smile. “Thank you.” I decided to start counting up yesterday’s earnings while she was deciding. “Uhh... Okay. I think I’m ready.” I closed up the cash register. “I’ll take a tall peppermint mocha...”

“With whipped cream and extra chocolate, I’m assuming?”

“You probably knew what I was going to say before I did, didn’t you?” she huffed in false frustration. “And, well, the orange scones and the eggnog brownies both look delicious, so since I can’t decide, I’ll just have one of each.”

“You got it.”

Once she’d paid and had her order in her hands, I expected her to say a quick, “Thank you!” and walk away with it. Instead, when I handed over her drink, she stuck by the counter, looking as though she had something else on her mind. It wouldn’t be long before I’d find out what that was.

“So, Link...” I turned back around to face her. She must’ve read my name tag at some point. She was twirling a lock of golden hair between two dainty digits, glancing around the soon-to-be bustling café area. “Have you got any plans for Christmas? Anyone you’ll be spending it with?”

“Not really,” I shrugged. “I haven’t got family.”

The corners of her lips fell. “Oh. Are they out of town or something?”

I shook my head. “They all got into a bad accident about seven years ago. Both my parents and my sister.”

“Oh...” A look of deep, genuine sympathy found its way onto her face. “I’m sorry.” A short moment of silence passed between us. Then she broke it, saying, “Me neither, actually.” I looked up from the cash register. “My mother passed away when I was really young and then I lost my father as a teenager.” It was difficult to process what I was hearing. I’d never imagined she’d have that kind of story just based on our handful of previous interactions.

“Hey, boss, want me to take over?” offered one of my few employees, pointing at the machine from beside me.

“Oh sure. Thanks.” He nodded, letting me step aside and out from behind the counter. When I met eyes with Zelda again, however, my mind drew a blank. “I’m sorry,” I laughed. “What were we just talking about?”

“It’s okay!” she reassured. “I was just going to say again, I’m so sorry about your family. That’s awful.”

I wasn’t really sure what the appropriate response would’ve been, so I simply said, “I’m sorry about yours.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” It quite frankly broke my heart just seeing her with anything but a smile on her face. “So what are you going to do for Christmas? Are you just staying home by yourself or...?”

“Pretty much.”

“Yeah, same here.” The silence returned for a short while as she took a cautious sip of her coffee until she quietly said, “Would...you maybe want to hang out? With me? On Christmas...?”

Her suggestion sent my thoughts into overdrive. The image of getting all cozy and warm by the fire with her in my arms and maybe even sharing a kiss or two under the mistletoe gave me a sudden rush of glee from head to toe. But then, maybe she didn’t have that exact scenario in mind. Maybe that was too much to ask.

“You’re not going to be working or anything, are you?” she asked, making me realize I was taking too long.

“Oh, no!” I cleared my throat in embarrassment. “That would be lovely. Were you thinking, like, one of us would go over to the other’s place for dinner or...would that be too soon...?”

Her face flushed as she stuttered out her answer. “That’s—I mean, I-I’d be happy to do that as long as it’s okay with you.” Then her shoulders shook with laughter as she added, “Let’s not go to mine, though. I have a flatmate who’s... Well, she’s a bit eccentric, as it were.”

“Mine it is, then,” I chuckled. “We could go out and do something else beforehand too, if you’d like.”

“That sounds perfect! Uh, where should we meet?” she pondered. “Oh! How about the park on Nayru Street? At...three o’clock?”

“I’d like that.”

When Christmas day arrived, it brought with it devastatingly low temperatures and a snowstorm overnight. So when I spotted her upon arriving at the park, I hadn’t expected her to come wearing nothing but a mini skirt, some sheer leggings, and a thin sweater with what looked like a button-up shirt underneath. Honestly I hadn’t really been expecting her to come at all. Nevertheless, there she was, waving at me from the opposite corner of the road.

“Hey, I’m so glad you came!” she chirped once I’d gotten within hearing range. Her pale pink, knitted hat with the pompom on the end, along with the pleats of her skirt, made her look like a cupcake. A shivering, frostbitten cupcake.

“Aren’t you cold?” I inquired.

“What? No! Not at all,” she scoffed, teeth chattering.

I stepped toward her and held out my hand without thinking, then stuffed it back in my pocket. What could I do? There was no chance she’d last more than an hour out in the icy December climate wearing that. I wanted to be a gentleman, but it wasn’t like I could give her my trousers to keep her warm.

“Link, don’t worry about it,” she insisted. “I’ll be f-fine.”

This didn’t do much to ease my concern for her, but I shrugged it off, trying my best not to worry.

A few hours went by remarkably quickly. After meeting up at three, we’d spent a little while in the park, sharing stories and learning more about each other’s lives. I told her about my experience with starting my own business, and she told me of her aspirations to become a groundbreaking tech engineer. Then the sun began its decent. While we went to grab hot drinks (which seemed to help warm her up temporarily), she had the idea of touring some high-end neighbourhoods to see all the lights and decorations. But by then, it had started snowing again, and she was shaking so much, it looked like her legs could’ve given out at any moment.

My heart lurched when I saw her stumble on the way up a particularly steep incline. I rushed to her side, even though she’d mostly managed to catch herself on her own. She was starting to look pale. “Okay, yeah, you’re definitely not fine. Let’s get you inside.”

“Yeah...” She nodded shakily, steadying herself on my arm. “Okay.”

The trip back to my flat lasted around half an hour, which was still longer than either of us would’ve preferred. The busses weren’t running due to the ice on the roads, so we had to go by train. At least now she was sheltered from the raging blizzard outside. The poor thing was shivering the whole way, albeit slightly less. I was doing all I could to protect her from the cold by rubbing up and down her arms, which she didn’t seem to mind, even leaning back into me a couple of times.

“I’m so sorry about tonight,” she frowned as she followed me through the front door once we’d arrived. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this cold, and I just wanted us to have a fun night out together. I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s okay, Zelda,” I hushed, turning on the fireplace and sitting her down in front of it. “We can still have fun here, can’t we? We can do whatever you want once we’ve eaten, your choice.”

Her frown turned into a shy smile. “Thank you,” she sniffled.

I nodded, stripping off my snow-covered jacket and hanging it up. “Would you like something a bit more comfortable to wear maybe...?”

“No, that’s alright,” she dismissed, noticing the—one might say ‘minimalist’—tree I’d set up on the mantel next to the television. “Thanks, though. I just need a minute here to...regain my body heat, I think.”

“Well, if you need anything, just ask.”

And with that, I made my way to the kitchen to get started making dinner. Once she’d recovered for the most part and some colour had returned to her cheeks, she took it upon herself to help me with cooking. It wasn’t a very traditional Christmas dinner, but she enjoyed it, as did I. The highlight, however, was yet to come. After filling our stomachs and having a bit of light banter, we sat down on the sofa to watch some shabby Christmas films together by the fireplace.

“Hey, so...” She turned her attention to me when I paused the movie abruptly. “I heard somewhere that you like cake.”

She straightened up, eyes dilating like a cat who’d been offered a saucer of cream. “There’s cake?”

“There is indeed,” I laughed, rising to my feet. “Would you care for some?”

“Oh, would I ever.” She sprung up and followed me back to the kitchen, where I’d already put my seasonal masterpiece out on display. She gasped. My concoction consisted of two layers of black forest cake frosted with and separated by white buttercream. To top it off, I’d lined the circumference with black cherries and, as the centrepiece, created a miniature forest scene using artificial evergreen trees and some powdered sugar. “Link,” she gaped as I observed her awestruck reaction with pride. “I... You shouldn’t have.”

“But I did.” I was beaming from ear to ear as she took her eyes off the tantalizing treat to look back at me. Picking up the knife and positioning it at the edge of the cake, I tried to ask, “How much do you have room for?”

But then she cut me off with an alarmed, “Wait!”

I halted, leaving only a millimetre or two between the cake and the edge of the knife.

“I mean...” she stuttered. “Sorry. It just looks too perfect. You know?”

Eventually she came to terms with the fact that she quite literally couldn’t have her cake and eat it too. So once I’d served us both a slice, she pranced back to the living room with me just a few paces behind. As “A Charlie Brown Christmas” resumed on the screen, I watched her take her first bite out of the corner of my eye. “Wow,” she garbled around a mouthful of rich, chocolaty goodness before swallowing. “Link, you’ve truly outdone yourself.”

I blushed, the sounds from the TV fading into white noise in the background. “You can have my cherries if you want.”

A gleaming grin lit up her face. “Oh my god, really?” She scooted closer to me so that I’d be able to roll them off of my plate and onto hers with my fork. Any further and her thigh would’ve ended up right up against my own.

Once she’d cleaned off her plate, she set it down on the coffee table in front of us and relaxed into the back of the sofa, which nearly swallowed her up with how deep it was.

“Damn,” she smiled to herself, making me turn my head. “Now I feel bad for not getting you a gift or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I put my plate down next to hers. “Just spending the day with you has been wonderful.” She looked at me with not a trace of dismay in her gaze, eyes warm and filled with nothing but contentment. “Honestly, I can’t think of anything that would’ve made me happier. Thank you for today.”

Her gaze landed in her lap, a dusting of pink settling on her cheeks. “I should be thanking you.”

I hadn’t noticed, but as time had passed from that point, she’d been gradually reclining in my direction. The moment our mutual acts of platonism fell apart was the moment her head made contact with my shoulder. I couldn’t help but give in and let my arm drape itself around her. An upward curve settled into the corners of her lips briefly before they drooped sleepily back down. I took a glance at the clock hanging by the kitchen—it was half ten already.

Zelda’s eyes were all but closed, lips parted just so, and some of her hair had scattered across her face. I tucked it back behind her ear, trailing my fingertips along her downy hairline in the process. They wanted to keep going down her face, once they’d reached her ear, to discover whether those lips were as soft and warm as they appeared. “Zelda?” I murmured her name, not wishing to disturb her in her peaceful disposition. She gave me a sort of hum in delirious acknowledgement. “C...can I...?”

She hummed again in almost the same way as before, perhaps not having realized what I was about to say. Then again, her cheeks did seem a slight bit rosier now. I leaned in, thumb coming to rest on her jawline. She tilted her head up, eyes fluttering the rest of the way closed.

But I still hesitated. About to play out before my very eyes was the scene that had been running in the back of my mind ever since the first time I laid eyes on her. Ever since the first time I’d witnessed her indulging in one of my creations. Her lips and tongue would taste of sugar and strawberries if all my fantasies were to realize themselves. But what if they didn’t? Or even, what if they did? What would we be after today? This would change everything between me and her, and there would be no turning back.

Lazy fingers curled around the back of my neck, and before I could give it another thought, her lips and mine had met.

She did indeed taste sugary and sweet, as one would expect from someone whose last thing they’d eaten had been a slice of cake. Yet that wasn’t what stood out to me, made me melt into a useless puddle on the floor. It was the way she leaned her weight into me, trusting me to catch her with no questions asked. The way she made me drape my arms around her waist, wanting to feel as close to her as my corporeal being would allow. She was so warm and so soft. It had been an age since I’d known the feeling of home. Was this it?

I’d soon have my answer, as the moment her lips began to disappear from mine, I felt a sudden surge of homesickness swelling up in my chest. My heart pleaded for her not to leave, and she must’ve heard it, because no sooner than when I opened my eyes did she press her lips to my own again.

It would be a while until I’d be able to tear myself away from her long enough to ask her the question I had burning on my tongue. “What would you think,” I muttered, “about...spending the night here?”

“That...” Her eyes squinted. “That doesn’t—” She was interrupted by a yawn, which she covered with one hand. My breath went still. “...sound so bad actually.” I exhaled in relief, seeing her droopy eyes filling up with warmth. “Is it too late to accept your offer from earlier? About comfier clothes?”

“Not at all.”

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #link x zelda #zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink ff #modern au #link pov #happy holidays everyone!

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drmazel · 4 years ago

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certified maria tma speculation (TM) (lazy version)

this turned out way longer than i thought it would. it’s a collection of snippets from tma transcripts just barely hinting at a speculation i have so if you don’t care then scroll fast!

i don’t feel like spending a bunch of time coming up with some speculation and theory when 1) i could be wrong and 2) i just wanna have fun but! for no reason whatsoever here are just some fun and cute quotes from s5 that i haven’t been able to get out of my head that don’t seem to have really been addressed much if at all in the narrative yet and i definitely don’t think are just pressing at the edges to come back and smack us in the face as the finale approaches <3

not that i think they’re all necessarily tied together but mmm a few of these taste of Essence of Foreshadowing yummy! a.k.a. (jonny voice) martin is not going to be okay

MAG167

Jon: W-Without trust. W-Without a reason. Gertrude needed both the purpose her mission gave her and the control her position allowed. To be here, like us, without a – a reason, without someone to ground her? She – She’d have power, but – no control. No real purpose. Perhaps she’d have dedicated herself to a doomed quest like us but – No. I think this would have broken her. And she’d have resigned herself to – ruling her domain.

...

Martin: So. If you say Gertrude wouldn’t have been able to go on without a reason –

Jon: Yes, Martin, you are my reason.

MAG170

(sudden lucid moment amongst a cloud of forgetfulness) Martin: Why. The Eye has won. It can already see everything; it wouldn’t need a – w-wouldn’t need a –

MAG171

Martin: Don’t do that.

Jon: What?

Martin: Don’t use me as an excuse.

MAG172

Martin: If you look, and I was – influenced, then how can I trust anything else? How can I believe any of my thoughts and feelings are really mine?

MAG176

Jon: I don’t like betraying someone’s trust like this.

Martin: It’s not a betrayal if you’re doing it to help.

Jon: I’m not so sure.

Martin: Look, if it was me in her shoes, I’m sure I’d forgive you. It-It’s for the best!

MAG177

Basira: And if I killed you now?

Jon: You couldn’t. And even if you could, it wouldn’t be enough to undo what’s happened to the world.

MAG178

Jon: No-one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most. Even me. [personal note: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm bark snarl bark bark bark bite bite snarl grrrrr!!!!! bite!!!]

MAG179

Jon: Hmmm. Apparently. I mean, I know it sounds strange, but it… it felt right for Daisy to be able to hurt me.

Martin: Dream logic again?

Jon: Mmm. The… resonances from our relationship before the change carried over and –

MAG181

Annabelle: Don’t worry, Martin. We’ll meet again. Hopefully when you’re feeling a little bit more… open-minded. [personal note: SNARL GROWL BITE BITE GROWL SNARL wife GRRRR BITE!!!!!!!!!]

MAG183

Jon: Well, you’re a watcher, Martin. You worked for the Institute, you read statements. The Eye is… fond of you.

MAG184

Jon: What was I supposed to do? I owed you. Didn’t want to just watch you suffer.

Martin: It’s what you’ve been doing for everyone else. It’s what you’re expecting him to do.

MAG185

Jon: Either way, even if I wasn’t here, I don’t think you’d be in any danger. Not anymore. I wasn’t sure when we first started out, I hadn’t properly, er… looked into it, as it were. But now I’m certain.

...

Martin: Even though I didn’t ask for it? Did nothing to deserve it?

Jon: ‘Deserve’. Huh. Now there’s a word that always causes trouble.

Martin: Don’t be patronising.

Jon: I just mean that nobody here deserves the position they’ve found themselves in, not really. I suppose a few may have asked for it, sought it out even, but far more didn’t. They just made the wrong choices for the right reasons. Or even the right choices. But ones that still led them here in the end.

...

Martin: I guess we should get used to it. Knowing that all these awful things are happening for our benefit.

MAG186 (this is a big one that ties a lot of my scattered thoughts together)

Martin: So, this price. What do you think? Are we going to have to kill John?

Also Martin: I don’t know because you don’t know. But it seems like something we should at least consider.

Martin: I… have thought about it. And… I won’t. I don’t think I could. But anything else? Any other price? I’ll pay it.

Also Martin: Even dying?

Martin: Yeah!

Also Martin: Jon’s as bad as we are. He wouldn’t let it happen.

Martin: It’s not his decision.

Also Martin: Fine. So flip that round, then. What are you going to do when he tries to sacrifice himself, because you know he’s going to try?

Martin: I don’t know, all right? I don’t know.

Also Martin: And that’s okay for now, but I just want us to have thought about this stuff properly before it comes up. Because even if that’s not it, chances are it’ll be something else you don’t want to do, and we need to make a proper choice. We can’t just react out of shame or fear or whatever.

Martin: What, like with Peter and Elias?

Also Martin: Yes.

Martin: That was a proper choice?! I chose wrong!

Also Martin: But you made a decision. Your own decision. Regardless of the outcome.

...

Martin: But I can’t keep existing like this at their expense. It’s not… it’s not right. Whatever happens with Elias, W-with the rest of the world… I can’t live on the misery of others.

Also Martin: They’ll suffer either way.

Martin: I get it, okay? I can’t decide what happens to them. But… I just might be able to decide what happens to me. And… And if it comes down to it… I’ll get John to destroy me like the others.

Also Martin: You don’t really believe he’d do it?

Martin: I don’t know. Maybe?

Also Martin: This took a dark turn.

Martin: Yeah. But… this time, it doesn’t feel like despair. It feels like resolve.

MAG188

Jon (statement): She looked at the eye, and the eye looked back. Carmen’s arm shot out, thrusting the tip of the blade right into the pupil. But it did not cut anything, for there was nothing but empty blackness. Carmen’s knife, then her hand, then her forearm passed into the void of that pupil, her skin bristling with the cold. And then the iris closed around her arm, the thin flesh of the tightening muscle clenching with astonishing strength as it held her in place. Then, inch by inch by inch, it began to pull her in. But her flatmate simply shushed her. Her terror was pointed and crimson, and tomorrow she will wake up hating London and worrying about how many characters there are.

MAG189

Jon: No, Martin, listen, what I’m saying is that whichever way you cut it, ultimately it just comes down to who The Eye chooses. [personal note: MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM]

...

Jon (statement): They can all hear him now. Any words he speaks will ring out through the chamber. He wants to talk of the people outside, the bruised and abandoned ones that suffer and die to slake their appetites. He wants to cry for restitution, for justice, for a future, for anything. But all eyes are on him and he falters. He remembers the cold, the hunger, the ache of concrete beneath him. He is afraid. And his chair is so very comfortable. The minister coughs, once, uncomfortably, and sits down. [personal note: wow if only there was a character that had a thing about comfortable chairs this season? anyway,]

Act III trailer

please go read the rime of the ancient mariner or the wikipedia synopsis or something. for real. like for real for real oh my god i can’t believe i didn’t think of this of course jonny chose that shit on PURPOSE

MAG191 (of course)

Martin: And you have to promise me you’re going to do everything in your power to live. That you’re not going to sacrifice yourself at the first opportunity, just because you feel guilty about what happened. [personal note: see MAG186. Jon isn’t the only one that feels guilty that this happened, and I can’t stop thinking about how this promise did not go both ways.]

MAG193

Jonah: Enough. Tell me, why are you here?

Jon (statement): I… I don’t know.

Jonah: Were you drawn here?

Jon (statement): Yes. I was.

Jonah: Against your will?

Jon (statement):No.

Jonah: Then why did you heed the call?

Jon (statement): Because… this is the place I know I should be.

Jonah: Good. The job is yours.

[personal note: OBVIOUS parallels with jon and being promoted to archivist then being promoted to Archivist, but my “martin is not going to be okay” brain is very guilty of reaching for connections and i do see this parallel with the conversation between jon and martin in MAG039 about why martin hadn’t quit. inch resting.]

anyway i said i don’t have the mental energy to come up with some long speculation and i DEFINITELY don’t now after pulling all this out of the transcripts. i could be wrong i could be right i could be somewhere in the middle, but i think it’s very possible that jon tries to accept the eye’s “offer” to take jonah’s place, martin doesn’t let him, martin does it instead then something i don’t even want to think about happens because he does NOT want to feed off of people’s suffering as has been repeated over and over. i’m probably way off but i’ve just been thinking about it and needed to get it down somewhere. maybe i’ll reblog this on thursday after the release of 194 with an update, who knows! whether i’m right or wrong both martin and jon will be fine tho <3

#THAT 178 ONE REALLY GETS ME AHAHAHA MMMMMMMMMMMM #FORGOT ABOUT THAT UNTIL SCANNING THROUGH THE TRANSCRIPTS JUST NOW HEHEHE HOOHOO #tma speculation #the magnus archives #LONG post #sorryyyy

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lostinthewoods-kristoff · 4 years ago

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After all, why not? Why can’t I hook up twice in one night?

DATED: Prom leave us alone SUMMARY: Mitte convinces Kristoff to let his hair down at prom NOTES/WARNINGS: None just good clean kinda steamy fun @mighty-mitte

MITTE

Town wide prom was… A strange phenomenon. Not the sort of thing Mitte had ever encountered before Swynlake. Of course, this was a place that had brought a lot of new experiences. Magic, alternate o

realities, vampirism. She wasn’t complaining, but it was discomforting how quickly these events had started to feel normal. Mitte was getting eager to shake things up, be a little bit of a troublemaker just for the hell of it. She’d had to be so careful lately with the dangers of killing someone so easily. But tonight she was well fed and looking fine as fuck, if she did say so herself- and she did- so she wanted to have some fun.

You could easily argue she’d had plenty already, what with sneaking off to her favourite town hall storage room with her date already for some messing around, but, well, if Kristoff was going to turn up to a second town hall event- without even having been dragged along by her this time- what was Mitte to do but push her luck?

Of course Marisa was her date, but they were two independent and easily distracted women. She’d wandered off to talk with some work friends and Mitte, who did not know them and wasn’t at all interested in the awkward this-is-my-date-no-not-my-girlfriend-just-my-date dance, wandered off to go see her old pal in espionage instead.

“As I live and breathe.” Mitte said as she sauntered over, voice breathy and one hand placed on her chest, “Kristoff Bjorgman, am I seeing you at another town event, or am I just losing my pretty little mind?”

KRISTOFF

Kristoff had no idea why he was even here.

He had been aware of Swynlake’s various events since he had started coming back into town of his own free will. They had made the shop workers a little ditzier than usual, a road would be closed here or there, and come sunset, the place would be like a ghost town. Kristoff had stood and watched from the sidelines, head tilted, brow furrowed. Why were there so many parties? What were they celebrating?

Turns out, they were never really celebrating anything. Kristoff had never understood that.

And he had never really had any desire to go to any of those events, something which definitely hadn’t changed -- what had changed, though, was that now people kept bugging him about going. His flatmate, his work friends. And then there was the inevitable talk about everything the next morning, a blow by blow account of everything that had gone on. At least if he was there he wouldn’t have to have those conversations…

Which is why Kristoff was stood in the corner, in a rented suit that definitely wasn’t to theme, wondering if it was too early to go home. When Mitte arrived, it was as silent as always, and in a dress that-- that-- what was his point again?

“Who says it can’t be both?” He returned, eyebrows arching.

MITTE

His heart stuttered. It was, obviously, not the first time someone's heart had gone funny at the sight of her, but hearing it always made her feel powerful. If she pointed it out Kristoff might make the argument that she had simply scared him by dancing over all quiet like, but even if his glance down at what she was wearing had been brief it wasn’t brief enough for her not to notice the way his eyes lingered on the slit at her thigh and the low neckline of her dress.

That was rather the point of wearing the thing, she’d be offended if it didn’t get to him at least a little. Marisa was a big fan of the look.

Apparently he was used enough to her antics now to be able to return fire. There was one version of reality where Mitte curled her lip and said ‘bite me’ and cackled and then the two of them were just old buds for the evening. But that would be boring, even if it did come with significantly less risk of giving Kristoff an aneurysm.

So instead Mitte pouted, eyes all wide. “Oooh, that was mean.” She simpered as she reached his side, shaking her head. “At least now I know you’re the real Kristoff and not some super social imposter.” She tipped her head back and smiled up at him, shifting her weight to rest over one hip so the slit on the side of her dress rode up her thigh.“I’m glad you decided to come along.” Mitte said, one hand resting softly on his arm, grin turning a little devilish, “you cut a real handsome shape in a suit, y’know.”

KRISTOFF

Kristoff rolled his eyes, looking away— but it was mostly an excuse to not have to look at Mitte anymore. Not that he didn’t want to (he definitely did want to, actually, way more than he probably should, which was probably her intention in the first place, wasn’t it?), just that he kinda didn’t trust himself to. Making a fool of himself? Nothing new. But pissing off a vampire? Even one who was his friend? He didn’t want to stray into that territory.

Plus, the eye rolling and the teasing were what he was used to. That was what they did. Not as easily or as readily as they had in that dream, mind, but still. It was pretty typical for the two of them. And focusing on that was better than focusing on the way her dress shifted as she did, exposing even more skin—

And now she was complimenting him, and smirking, and he was definitely blushing. Right? “It’s not mine,” he admitted, blurting the words out because he apparently didn’t have anything else to say. “It’s rented.” He clarified, his face screwing up like he regretted every word out of his mouth. “We can’t all have—“ he waved a hand at her dress, immediately regretting acknowledging it. “Fancy event wardrobes.”

MITTE

Flustering Kristoff was just so easy. She doubted anyone would blame her for having fun with it. At the end of the day no one could say he was really suffering right now, could they? Poor Kristoff with the undivided and flirtatious attention of a girl in a revealing red dress. Even a short month or two ago his blushing might’ve been enough to spook her into cutting the whole game short, because there were some things you just didn’t play with- peoples’ lives, for example- but now though it caught her attention her thirst was sated enough that it didn’t entirely distract her and she only thought of the blood pooling under his skin for a moment.

Mitte’s smile turned bemused as he bumbled his way through the story behind his suit, her laugh light and airy. “Oh, you like my dress?” She looked down like she was only just noticing it for the first time herself, fingers delicately tracing along the neckline. “I guess it is kind of fancy. Want to know a secret?” She popped up onto her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, voice low, “it’s not mine either. I’m borrowing it from a friend.” Mitte stepped back, head tipping slightly to the side so her hair spilled down one shoulder, “so you see, neither of us actually have fancy event wardrobes.”

KRISTOFF

It took all the little Kristoff’s inside of big Kristoff’s brain a second to pull themselves together after Mitte stepped in close to him. She was definitely saying something (and hopefully he’d catch up to that later), but he was distracted by the warmth of her breath on his ear, and the scent of her perfume, growing stronger as she leaned in towards him before fading away again. He watched her hair tumble down over her shoulder and then, like two ends of a cut wire joining together again, he sparked back to life.

Kristoff searched his back catalogue of self-deprecating jokes for one that might suit, because usually when he wasn’t sure what else to say, but he came up kinda blank. His mouth was open, definitely like he was about to say something, so he probably should—

“Guess not,” he managed eventually, which definitely wasn’t worth the wait. Kristoff cringed a little, turning an even deeper shade of red (he would match her dress in a moment though, wait, maybe don’t think about the dress—) and awkwardly cleared his throat. “What about your date?” He asked, because that was normal, right? He was being normal. “Do they have a fancy wardrobe?” Wait, was she even here with anyone? He had just assumed— “I’m guessing you’re not here alone. Right?”

MITTE

Oh, it was going so well. Mitte might have almost felt bad for how quickly she could turn his brain to goo if it wasn’t so satisfying. It felt good to be flirting for the sake of flirting again, and not just for the purpose of luring some stupid sod into an alley for a bite to eat. She waited for Kristoff to pull himself back together, wondering how long it would take him to twig that amusing as it all was, she was also seriously interested in the idea of dragging him off to that little supply closet for some fun.

He would probably turn down the offer, at least at first, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open.

She swallowed a laugh when in all his fumbling for something to say all he could think to ask about was her date. “No, I’m not here alone.” Mitte answered with a wry smile, “I came with my friend Marisa. She’s…” She actually knew exactly where Marisa was- could’ve probably found her with her eyes closed on smell alone- but she pretended to scan the crowd anyway, tapping a finger against her lower lip. “Oh, she’s over there.” Mitte made a gesture towards a group of girls, and one particular brunette in a pale blue dress, “she does have a fancy wardrobe. Case in point, I borrowed my dress from her.” She smoothed her hands down her sides, turning back to Kristoff, “what about you? Anyone lucky on your arm tonight?”

KRISTOFF

Kristoff looked across the room, following Mitte’s eyes as they scanned over everyone. Admittedly when she pointed, all Kristoff registered was a group of pretty girls in very expensive, but very nice looking dresses. Whichever one of them was Mitte’s date didn’t really matter, because they all looked pretty much like they were up to snuff. Up to Mitte’s standards, he meant — or the standards of that dress. Whichever were higher.

(And Yknow, for his own sake, Kristoff kinda hoped that Mitte’s standards were low, ‘cause he was the opposite end of whatever spectrum that girl was on, and he didn’t think that was a good thing. Not that he was necessarily thinking about being Mitte’s date, or anything, he was just thinking— how had he got onto this again?)

He was a little startled to find Mitte looking at him again, and it took him a moment to register what she’d said. “Me? No.” Ha. Funny, Mitte, very funny. Kristoff had a grand total of two friends, and she was one of them, and he didn’t really know if Olaf thought of him as a friend, ‘cause he had hit him with a car, so he probably shouldn’t— “No, I got dragged here by the guys from work, but— I doubt I’ll be staying long. Just this drink, and then,” he jerked a thumb in the general direction of the door. He wasn’t one for parties, even when his friends hadn’t ditched him.

MITTE

He was here all alone. Perfect. Mitte wasn’t sure why exactly she was so determined to extend their physical relationship beyond the realm of an alternate reality. Well, primarily it was just because he was hot, but also if she could bag him in one universe but not the other that was basically implying Other Mitte was somehow better than her and Real Mitte would just not stand for that. It was as thorough a reason as she ever had for doing anything. That reason being: to see if she could.

“You wanna duck out so soon?” Mitte stepped a little closer and stared up at him, all sultry pout and innocent wide eyes, her hand resting on his arm again. “We haven’t even danced yet.” Her voice was soft, almost a purr, meant only for him to hear even though she wasn’t quite close enough to whisper. “You can’t come to a party looking all handsome and not stay long enough for at least one dance.”

KRISTOFF

There she went again, calling him handsome. He wasn’t sure if she was joking with him or not; it would be kind of a cruel joke, if she was, and he didn’t think Mitte was necessarily a cruel person, but Kristoff also wasn’t a very good judge of character. Whether it was a joke or not, it still made him blush, ducking his head and turning his face away as his lips twitched into a small, almost amused smile. His reaction wasn’t helped by the far too familiar weight of the hand on his arm, or the way she was so close that all he could smell was her perfume, or the low, coy lilt to her voice that reminded him once again of that dream…

“I don’t dance,” Kristoff told her, his eyes glancing from hers, to her lips, to the hand on his arm; there was a lot going on right now. He was having a little trouble processing it all. “Unless you’re not very fond of those shoes.”

MITTE

Hook, line, sinker.

It was almost too easy, and she’d be bothered by that if the outcome wasn’t certain to be satisfying. Yes she caught him staring at her mouth, didn’t need super senses for that one. Didn’t say anything about it but she did soften the sultry edge of the pout by smiling just a little bit, like he had been.

It grew into a smug grin at his quip, and Mitte trailed her hand down his arm until she could twine her fingers through his, “I borrowed the shoes too.” She gloated, glancing over at the dancefloor then back at him, though her voice was softer when she spoke again, “and it’s not like my reactions aren’t sharp enough to avoid your feet.” Though really, if he didn’t want to dance it wouldn’t be the worst thing… Mitte leaned in to whisper again, letting her eyes drop to his lips for a second before looking back up, “unless you’d rather skip straight to sneaking off to the storage closet to make out. I do like dancing but I wouldn’t be against that.” She didn’t lean back right away this time, one brow quirked as she waited to see how he would react.

KRISTOFF

Had Kristoff fallen asleep? Was this another dream? Mitte’s hand was in his and she was like super close, and then she was talking about closets? And making out?

Listen, Kristoff had not done a lot of dating. In fact, he had done no dating. There had been that boy out in the farmlands, when he’d been just a boy himself and still not quite used to human company but that was… different. And he’d been kinda glad when he’d moved away, ‘cause he’d never really known what to say to him after that summer.

So yeah, forgive him if he was blushing. A lot. And if he kind of gawped like a fish for a second whilst he fully registered just exactly what she was suggesting. “Is that what you do?” He asked, clearing his throat and ducking his head. He made no move to put some distance between them, or to take his hand from hers. “Go to closets and... make out with people? Sounds like a movie, or something.”

MITTE

OK, that had been pretty strong, she knew that. Mitte just figured it was better to get the offer out there, oblivious Kristoff would never pick up on it otherwise. So she lapsed into silence after making it and just watched his reaction play out on his face, not even being distracting by rubbing her thumb across his knuckles even though it would be funny to interrupt his thought process.

From anyone else his comment might sound like judgement, but Mitte knew he was just trying to work it out, work her out. "It has become a bit of a habit actually, now that I think about it." She said after a soft laugh, amusement colouring her tone. It really had become her go to prom activity. Now she was just trying to one up herself by getting two in one night.

He looked so good when he blushed. Some monster rattled its cage in the back of her head but Mitte pushed it back down by spending a moment counting the threads on Kristoff's jacket. He hadn't let go of her hand, or moved away. Now Mitte did sweep her thumb across his knuckles, just to get his attention. "Its fun." She promised, voice silky. "The dancing and the making out. Seriously, we could just dance if that's all you want." Her eyes darkened and she used her free hand to trace slowly and delicately down the buttons of his shirt, stopping just shy of his belt and pulling her hand away, "I'll even stop flirting." Mitte said on a breath, looking up at him through her lashes, "if you ask."

KRISTOFF

Kristoff was not going to ask.

He had a lot of things he wanted to ask Mitte. Mostly, why him? Don’t get him wrong, that dream had been good (very good), but it wasn’t like Kristoff was the same person as that dorky-but-in-a-cool-way super spy. He wasn’t dorky in any way except that; awkward, occasionally unpleasant to be around, usually clueless as to what was happening right in front of him.

He inhaled sharply as he fingers ran down the front of his shirt, and he tried to look at them, to watch the path they took down his chest, over his stomach, but she was too close; it just made him go cross-eyed. Definitely not dorky-but-in-a-cool-way. He looked up instead, meeting her eyes. Should he be afraid of her? Well. He was kind of afraid of her, in that moment, but had nothing to do with her being a vampire.

She could probably see the cogs turning in his head. The instinct to run vs the desire to stay, how to put that into words, how to put anything into words, because it had been a while since anyone had said anything— “And what’s my other option?” He asked her, sounding vaguely strangled. “If— if I don’t just want to dance? And… if I don’t want to stop the flirting…?”

MITTE

Let it be known; Mitte was a danger to people like Kristoff long before she’d become a vampire. Because she knew how to present herself, how to charm her way in or out of a situation. It was an advantage of life on the road, she’d met people of all different temperaments, and once you’d dealt with a personality type before it was a simple matter of small adjustments to cater a technique to the individual.

Kristoff was your classic awkward guy. Cute, unassuming, not great with social cues. Not always fantastic bed partners at first but usually willing to learn and easy to teach. (She had enough evidence that Kristoff was very capable in that department not to be too worried if he wasn’t perfect from the get go.)

She really would be fine with just dancing, if he drew that line, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to. He proved her assumption correct just a few seconds later, sounding for all the world like he’d just run a marathon or something. Mitte giggled and tipped her head to the side, in the direction of the hallway, then leaned back towards him to whisper. “Making out in the storage closet.” She reminded him, letting her lips brush the shell of his ear before she shifted away.

Mitte lightly circled a few of the shirt buttons in the middle of his chest, looking up at him. “Don’t worry, nobody’s gonna catch us. Unless you’ve got an overprotective father on the town board I don’t know about, that’s the only time that happened. And I still managed to get away with a tupperware full of fancy crab cakes so not a total loss as far as a prom goes.” She grinned, letting the mood lighten a little before Kristoff went into cardiac arrest.

She cast her gaze back to the hallway again then quirked a brow at him, voice low and sultry, “you wanna get out of the dance hall?”

KRISTOFF

Yeah, yep. Kristoff thought that was his other option.

He had no idea what he was doing here. Well, no, not true, he knew exactly what he was doing here, he just wasn’t sure what was making him do it. He was hardly the adventurous type, had never been one to sneak out of parties to make out in places you shouldn’t (or places you should, for that matter).

And there was always that little voice in the back of his head, the one that nagged, that whispered his doubts to him. But what about Mitte’s date? What about their friendship? What if this ruined everything? Worse, what if he was super bad at it, or at least worse than he had been in that dream, and Mitte decided she wanted nothing more to do with him--

The little voice was silenced for a second, though, as Mitte joked again. He was kind of glad for the momentary change in tone, for the opportunity to roll his eyes and give her a ha ha very funny expression. He definitely didn’t have an overprotective father, though he was probably going to have to ask Mitte for that story…

And then she was looking at him again, doing that thing she did where she looked all coy and mysterious, and Kristoff decided that that little anxious voice could go right to hell. “Lead the way.”

MITTE

This had all been surprisingly smooth sailing. Mitte had expected a little more protest, some more shock, maybe Kristoff telling her she was just acting weird. She wasn’t sure how much that old dream played into his desire now, or if she’d just managed to bambozole him so much with all her flirting he couldn’t use the sensible part of his brain, but either way she was pretty proud of herself.

He was cognizant enough to roll his eyes at her story, so as far as she was concerned she still had enough control of his faculties to be making the choices he wanted to make. And that choice was to sneak off and make out with her. Mitte grinned up at him and stepped back, taking his hand more securely in her own and striding out of the main hall, into a hallway that’d become very familiar.

As before when she’d been here with Marisa, it was empty, and the closet door still unlocked. She ushered Kristoff in first and slipped in after, closing the door by pressing herself up against it. He still looked a little lost, but less panicked than before. Mitte slid her hands up into his hair, using it to pull his face down to hers. She kissed him slow but firm, not wanting to freak him out with too much at first.

KRISTOFF

Kristoff knew that if he allowed himself to think for even a second, he was going to psych himself out. He would panic about getting in trouble, or upsetting Mitte’s date, or her using this as some kind of an excuse to get back to draining his blood (which wasn’t fair, and he was really trying very hard to put that behind himself), and then he would say y’know what, never mind, and he would probably leave his personal belongings back at the work table and just walk directly out of the town hall and back into the forest, never to be seen again.

So, no thinking, which turned out not to be a problem pretty much as soon as Mitte closed the closet door behind them both. There was no pause, no fumbling; she pulled him towards her and he didn’t put up any argument, deciding that letting her take the lead was probably for the best. Case in point: he didn’t know what to do with his hands. They hovered for a second, whilst he was admittedly a little distracted with her lips on his and her hands in his hair, before they managed to find her hips, shifting over her waist, settling just below her ribs. He was glad she had started slowly; he kissed her back almost carefully, like he was frightened he’d do it wrong -- and to be honest, he sort of was.

MITTE

While there were cons to what she had become, heightened senses were absolutely a plus in these scenarios; she carded her hands through his hair and marvelled at how soft it was, the warmth of his hands at her waist, the gentle curve of his lips against hers. He was almost shy with the way he did it, but Mitte was sure he’d warm up soon enough. She let her hands roam along his shoulders and down his chest, and considered wriggling them under his jacket to push it off, but did not want to freak him out. So she pushed them back up into his hair, nails scratching ever so lightly against his scalp.

When it started to seem like he was going to need a minute to breathe she trailed soft little kisses across his cheek and jawline, resisting the urge to dip her face down and trace her lips across his neck- again, she did not want to freak him out- eventually reaching his ear. “You’re doing fine.” Mitte murmured, “would you relax and kiss me like you mean it? Messing this up is more difficult than you’re assuming.” She shifted her mouth back to his, keeping to that same steady pace.

KRISTOFF

Kristoff wished he could say something smart. Something like, I didn’t know this was a performance review, or… well, that was the only thing he could think of, to be honest. And he couldn’t even really think of that, because there was some kind of disconnect happening between his brain and his mouth - the speaking part, at the very least.

So: he was going to have to use his actions, if he couldn’t use his words. He raised one hand to her face, palm pressing to her cheek so that he could tip her head back a little more as he pressed closer to her. At least they couldn’t fall backwards through the door, so he didn’t have that to worry about. Though, to be honest, the leaning down probably wasn’t the best angle for his neck… so. Kiss her like he meant it.

There was a shelf behind them, or a cupboard, or… something. To be honest, Kristoff had no idea what it was, but he didn’t think it mattered. He pulled away just long enough to make sure that there was some space before he reached down, lifting Mitte with his hands behind her thighs, pulling her legs around his waist. It was a complicated motion for someone as clumsy as him, but he managed to get them turned around and Mitte set down on the bench/shelf/whatever without taking his lips from hers, and without major injury, which he thought was quite impressive.

“How’s that?” He asked her, nipping at her lower lip before leaning in again.

MITTE

He smelled good, which was not new information at all, but it was amplified and impossible to ignore in this small space. Mitte wasn’t worried about going crazy sexy vampire killer on him though- thanks to her time right here with Marisa earlier, all those urges were sated- so it just served to get her more excited, the din of the world outside the door forgotten.

All she really had to worry about was making sure she didn’t grab at him too hard, but she could manage that. Most of the time. And if she did get a little carried away she’d know real quick, so it would be fine.

Speaking of getting carried away. Mitte made a noise of surprise in the back of her throat when Kristoff picked her up, grinning for a moment as he set her down on some surface that had been behind him. Smart. With her legs wrapped around him and the split going up one side her dress had risen up the top of her thighs almost enough to expose the lacy red underwear she had on, but she didn’t think either of them were upset about that.

“Perfect.” Mitte said all sultry. Her hands roamed his chest while they kissed, dancing about lightly, occasionally swooping down low to flirt with the line of his trousers where the shirt was tucked in. Eventually she slid them around under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms.

KRISTOFF

Kristoff definitely wasn’t upset about it, mostly because he hasn’t noticed it yet, because his attention was conveniently caught by Mitte’s lips, and her hands as they slipped across his chest. It was enough to make him shiver, but he slipped out of his jacket without any protest. It wasn’t like it was his, anyways; she could do what she liked with it.

It was a lot easier that way, he found. Let Mitte take the lead and follow suit, though to be fair, lifting her up and spinning her round had been his idea, and they had both definitely enjoyed that. Maybe he wasn’t so bad at this after all? He was still trying not to get too far ahead of himself.

He pulled back from her only for a second, taking his lips from hers to trail kisses across her jaw, down the curve of her neck, breathing in the smell of her hair and her perfume as he went.

MITTE

He was hot. Literally, Mitte wanted to soak up his warmth like a sponge, make her cheeks go red again. She was used to being cold but not to her core, not like this. She wasn't used to not being sure if someone shuddered at her touch because it was good or because she was cold enough for them to feel it through their clothes.

Kristoff wasn't against taking more clothes off anyway, so she couldn't be cold enough to stop him. She tipped her head back when he turned attention to her jaw and down, making a soft sound of pleasure as her legs tightened around him. (Vocal cues were good, and so was praise, so Kristoff earned some for his bold moves for sure.)

Her hands slipped under his arms and around his back, scratching down his spine gently. "Would it be okay if I did the same?" Mitte murmured in the general direction of his ear, "no funny business, honest. Just regular sexy neck kissing."

KRISTOFF

The old Kristoff (of about twenty minutes ago), would have said yknow what? Let’s wrap this up actually. The last time he’d had Mitte’s lips at his neck he’d lost an unknown amount of blood and had felt pretty nauseous for a while, and he wasn’t in any particular rush to repeat that experience.

But the Kristoff that was now stood in a supply closet with Mitte’s legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on her hips was not the old Kristoff. He was potentially, just maybe, someone who was kind of fun, and apparently someone who gave in to certain urges, and he was definitely someone who responded well to both praise and vocal cues…

Mostly, though, he was someone who trusted Mitte.

“Yeah,” He nodded. Eloquence wasn’t his strong suit. “Yeah, that’s - that’d be okay.”

MITTE

It was weird to ask, but the last thing Mitte wanted to do right now was freak him out. Things were going so smoothly.

Too smoothly of course, and she should've known better than to trust that. Or herself.

Maybe it was because she'd never been alone in such a small space with him. It was all filled up with his smell; earthy and warm and dangerously familiar.

Her head tipped down and she pressed a trail of hot kisses along Kristoff's jaw, leading down his neck. The deep breath she took was what started the trouble. Oh god, it would be so easy. Her mouth lingered at his pulse point, she felt sharp and unwelcome teeth prickling her lower lip.

"Fuck-" Her voice was shaky, just a breath.

This was it. She was a monster now, wasn't she? Normal things like making out with a hot guy in a storage closet were suddenly out of reach.

Mitte braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back, trying to be gentle.

Still too close. His cheeks were red. His blood thrummed hypnotically. She wanted it. She wasn't even hungry. It'd be so good. Her fingers flexed on his shoulders, aching to drag him back in.

No. Not again. "I gotta go." This wasn't fair.

She slipped off the table he'd sat her down on, trying to keep it together. Casual, calm, collected. Not yearning for his blood and cursing herself. "I-" Mitte swallowed thickly, and wondered how visible fangs were when you talked. "This… Somewhere with better air circulation next time, maybe." As she backed towards the door and yanked on the handle she managed a wink, her hand curling a little too strongly around the metal as she got it open.

It was easier to breathe immediately, and Mitte spared him a final glance as she headed back out to the hallway.

KRISTOFF

There was a moment of fear, of minor panic, that made his pulse jump in his neck when Mitte’s lips finally met the curve of his neck. He’d thought the trail she’d begun might’ve distracted him, but his subconscious wasn’t fooled. The longer she lingered, though, the less he cared--

And then she put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back, and Kristoff took a step away, giving her space. She hadn’t said anything, but he had a feeling he knew what the issue was, and even if it wasn’t that she wanted to sink her teeth into his neck (again) and drain him of his lifeforce, he supposed it didn’t matter.

He wasn’t exactly sure what to say. If he was honest, his brain was running the 400 metre sprint to try to catch up to what had just happened, and by the time he had thought to ask Mitte if she was alright, she was already gone, throwing a wink over her shoulder as she went. The door swung shut behind her, and Kristoff huffed softly, running a hand over his face. For some reason, he didn’t feel any better for having just escaped death. After a moment, he tidied himself up, and slipped back out into the hallway - this time, though, he headed for the door, out into the cool night air, putting prom behind him.

#mistoff #( t; after all why not )#we finally finished it

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Voulez-Vous Coucher Avec Moi? (Gigi x Nicky) - Peridot

A/N: Y’all wanted domme Nicky and sub Gigi? You’re welcome.

This is a little lesbian one shot I wrote for the season 12 girls because I’m really enjoying them! I haven’t written a fic since December, so I’m sorry if I’m a little rusty! Also go easy on me, I don’t usually write smut and I only did the tiniest bit in this, so be gentle. Please leave me some feedback, I’d love to hear what you think of this! Also come say hi at my sideblog @artificialperidot, because I wanna make friends!

Summary: Gigi didn’t think anybody could make her sub. That was, until she met miss Nicky Doll.

Hope you enjoy!

The pair stumbled through the door of Nicky’s apartment, Nicky’s hands an iron grip on Gigi’s wrist, practically dragging the girl. The door shut with a click, and in a split second Gigi found herself shoved against it, boxed in by Nicky’s arms.

“Put your hands above your head, bitch.”

“There’s no way”

Gigi rolled her eyes and took a sip of her strawberry mocktail whilst the group around her snickered. She and her flatmates Heidi, Jackie and Jan were out for drinks at their local bar, sitting in a leather booth with some unrecognisable 90s beat playing over the speakers, barely audible over the chatter of people. It was their first night out in a long time, a celebration for Jackie’s new job offer in a weekly cabaret show. Gigi, however, wasn’t drinking with her friends - she knew how fast Heidi could get her drunk, and she was not about to have another crazy night, and was not about to let her friends get to that stage, either. The last one had been christened, “The milkshake incident” and Gigi had never quite lived it down. And she did not intend to have a repeat tonight.

But, as things often did when they had a girls night, the conversation quickly turned to sex.

“Oh come on, G,” Heidi exclaimed, “Are you saying no one in God’s universe could make you sub?”

“Highly doubt it.”

“Not even if you hadn’t had sex in years?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I knew you were a control freak, but didn’t know you cared that much.” Jan quipped, received a chuckle from the group.

“Yeah, well, that and the fact that I don’t think anyone could turn me on enough for me to listen to them,” Gigi added. “Like, I’d have to be about to fucking explode before I’d let some bitch tell me what to do.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” said Jackie.

“What do you mean?”

“You think no one could turn you on that much?”

Gigi shrugged. “I don’t think so. Girls are hot, but no one’s that hot.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “Well, let’s make things interesting then. Let’s arrange a hook up for you. If we can find a bitch that’s hot enough to make you sub, then you’re buying our drinks next time.”

“Ooh bitch, I like the sound of that,” Heidi chirped.

Gigi scoffed. “And if I win?”

“Then… then we’ll never bring up the milkshake incident again.”

Gigi paused. Now that would be worth it. “Deal,” she said, reaching out a hand to shake Jackie’s across the table, to the excited squee of Jan and the ‘ooohs’ of Heidi. “This sounds amazing. I’m getting a free hookup out of this, and I get to dom. I can’t lose.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Miss Goode,” Jackie commented, tapping at her phone screen, which she kept hidden from Gigi. “I have some contacts.”

Jackie couldn’t keep the mischievous grin from her face. “Who did you have in mind?” Heidi asked her, leaning over her shoulder to look at her phone.

“Just a little friend of mine, from back in New York.”

“Girl, if it’s who I’m thinking of, Miss Gigi doesn’t stand a chance!” Jan added.

Jackie smiled mischievously at Jan, giving her a knowing look, before leaning over and whispering something indecipherable into Heidi’s ear, which sent her reeling. “No way! Oh, this bitch stands no chance!” she exclaimed, a little too loudly for Gigi’s liking. “Drinks for us next Saturday bitches!”

Jan laughed, and Gigi rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be too confident. I can be intimidating when I wanna be.”

“Do you wanna be intimidating all the time then? Cause you are a scary bitch,” Heidi added, receiving a giggle from the group. “Seriously I’d still be frightened of you if I hadn’t seen the milkshake incident go down with my own eyes.”

The girls began cackling with laughter, and to save her embarrassment, Gigi laughed along too.

At least after tonight she’d never have to hear about it again.

This should be easy.

After about an hour or so of cocktails and a trip to the dance floor (where Heidi decided to give everyone in the bar some dance lessons, whether they were willing or not), Jackie disappeared and returned with a woman following along behind her.

“Gigi, there’s a little someone I want you to meet,” Jackie grinned. “This is Nicky. Nicky Doll.”

Jackie stepped to the side, and forward walked a woman. A woman who looked as if she was straight from the covers of vogue.

Gigi couldn’t deny that the woman standing in front of her was beautiful. Fuck, she may have just been one of the most gorgeous women she’d ever seen. Long blonde hair, dark features, and a body to die for. She wore a tight red mini dress that showed off her perfect curves and tiny waist, with a leather jacket thrown over her shoulders, embroidered with roses. She exuded sultriness, in the sort of way that made you certain that she knew just how sexy she was. Her bedroom eyes looked Gigi up and down like a predator surveying its prey, and a smile formed from her pursed lips.

Fuck.

She’s good.

Well, two can play at that game.

Gigi strutted over to the woman, swaying her hips, and slowly reached out a hand for her to shake. “Good evening, Nicky.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow and took her hand, gripping it firmly. “Nice to meet you, darling,” she drawled, her tone exuding confidence. “You want me to top her, Jackie? Shouldn’t be a problem.”

It was then that Gigi picked up on her accent, and her heart jumped a little. It took her a second to distinguish it, but after years of french class in high school, her ear was attuned to the pronunciation.

French. Fucking French?

Somehow it made her ten times hotter.

But, Gigi wasn’t about to back down yet.

“It might be a problem, seeing I’m head and shoulders taller than you,” she quipped, quirking an eyebrow and lifting her chin.

“At least I’m not a skinny little bitch,” Nicky quickly shot back, taking Gigi off guard. “She looks like one of those inflatable car advertisements, you know, the one with the flailing arms.”

The group began to laugh, including Gigi, trying desperately to brush off the joke and not show a crack in her armour. The little jolt in her chest when Nicky looked at her didn’t help make matters any easier.

Of course Jackie just happened to know this gorgeous French supermodel who was just as intimidating as Gigi, maybe even more so. This bet wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed.

Either way, she was so fucking glad she was going to fuck this bitch tonight.

The sound of Jackie’s voice shook Gigi out of her daydream. “So guys, are you still willing to go home together tonight?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely. She’s really hot,” Gigi said, in her sexiest voice. “Can’t wait to see her on her knees.”

Nicky didn’t flinch at Gigi’s last sentiment. She simply raised an eyebrow, as if to say are you kidding?

Gigi would be lying if she said that it didn’t turn her on. Slightly.

“Well, Nicky?” Jackie prompted.

“Eh, she’s not bad looking herself.” Nicky shot Gigi a smirk. “I’m up for it.”

“Great,” Jackie said with a clap of her hands. “The bet’s on! Now, who’s for another round of drinks? On me!”

The sentence was met by whoops and cheers from Jan and Heidi, and the girls slunk their way through the crowd towards the bar, Gigi and Nicky following after them.

Gigi felt an arm slide around hers, interlocking them, and felt a voice by her ear.

“Darling, I’m just checking you’re staying sober for tonight?” Nicky said in a hushed tone. The breath on Gigi’s skin made her shudder just a bit.

“Of course,” she replied with mock confidence. “I wouldn’t be comfortable any other way.”

“Good,” Nicky replied. “And, I want to check that no matter what goes down tonight, you're ok with it? Like, if you don’t top you are still comfortable.”

Gigi smiled. It was cute that she checked. “I’m comfortable with whatever goes down, though that shouldn’t be a problem for me anyway.”

“Good,” Nicky said matter-of-factly, before slipping her arm out from its entwinement with Gigi’s and starting to walk ahead of her to catch up with the group. She stopped after a second though, turning her head back to Gigi and waiting for her to catch up. She leant into her, her voice even more low and hushed than before.

“And don’t get too confident, baby. It’s not cute,” she said, giving Gigi a tap on the ass, before walking ahead of her again as if nothing had happened.

It wasn’t enough to hurt - it was barely enough for Gigi to even feel it. But it made her stop in her tracks, rendered immovable.

Gigi gulped. She didn’t know if it was possible for a human heartbeat to exceed 100 miles per hour, but she was sure that hers had gotten pretty close.

Shit.

Gigi wasn’t sure if it was the pounding of the music through the speakers, or the pounding of her heart that made her feel lightheaded, but after a while she needed to sit down. Not wanting to bother her friends, who were busy laughing and dancing and spilling their cocktails all over the dance floor, she left their group and made her way over to a booth at the side of the room, resting her elbows on the table. She squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t make the loud beat or the flashing strobe lights go away, but at least it stopped her head spinning a little.

After all, the thoughts swimming in her brain were enough for her head to deal with.

All she could think about was Nicky.

Before long, she felt someone slide into the booth beside her, a hand moving to rest on the small of her back.

She didn’t need to open her eyes to guess who it was.

“Are you alright, my darling?” a thick french accent murmured.

Gigi opened her eyes to face the girl beside her, whose eyes were wide with concern.

“I’m okay Nicky, thanks. Just felt a little lightheaded, that’s all.”

Nicky flashed her a caring smile. “It’s okay Gigi. You can rest your head on me if you need to, that might help.” Gigi smiled gratefully at her, before laying her head on the shorter girl’s shoulder. Nicky began rubbing her back in small circles, comforting her. “Do you need any water?”

“I’m okay, thanks. I’m starting to feel better already.”

“I’m glad.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, Nicky soothing Gigi, and Gigi trying to conceal her inner panic. She’d never met someone like Nicky before. Never. No one had ever turned her on as fast, for a start. And, she seemed to genuinely care about her, and they’d only just met for Christ sake.

Let’s just say, Gigi was pretty excited to go home with her tonight. She was even more excited to see her again after tonight, though. On a date.

That is, if she plucked up the courage to ask her.

She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Nicky began stroking Gigi’s hair, softly and gently, being careful not to mess it up, and Gigi melted into the touch. “You okay down there?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted to stay like this for a little while.”

“That’s okay. I like it too, ma crevette.”

Gigi’s eyes blinked open with confusion. “What does that mean?”

Nicky paused and smiled. “You’ll laugh.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a term of endearment in french, sort of like ‘my darling’,” she started, “but the literal translation is ‘my shrimp.’

The two girls began silently laughing to each other, like two school girls giggling over a secret. “You’re joking!”

“I’m serious! French is weird when you put it into English.”

“I used to study french, you know. Back in high school.”

Nicky looked impressed. “Really?”

“Yeah, but I can barely remember any of it. It was the only class I consistently failed,” she laughed. “That and basic math.”

“Speak some french for me Gigi. I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gigi racked her brain, trying to come up with something more interesting than ‘bonjour’ or ‘je m’appelle Gigi’, when she remembered a little song from ‘Moulin Rouge’ that she thought would fit the bill perfectly.

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”

Their little booth erupted into fits of giggles, Nicky barely able to comprehend her choice of phrase. Gigi watched closely, loving the way her nose screwed up when she laughed, and the toothy grin that took over her face.

Gigi didn’t know it was possible to be sexy and adorable, but she’d been proven wrong.

“Someone’s seen ‘Moulin Rouge’,” Nicky laughed.

“Well? Is that a yes? Oui or non?” Gigi persisted, leaning her shoulder into Nicky’s side.

Nicky shook her head and rolled her eyes with a sense of disbelief, but she didn’t try and stop the smile from creeping over her lips.

“Oui, my darling,” she laughed, before planting a kiss on Gigi’s cheek. “But, just because I’m being nice now doesn’t mean I’ll be nice later when I’m punishing you.”

Gigi felt a pang in her chest, and bit the inside of her lip, despite her ambivalence. She was embarrassed of the way it turned her on. The thought of Nicky doing what she wants to her, having her way with her, was so sexy.

But the thought of Nicky down on her knees for her, was a pretty tempting thought too. So, she concealed the way her heart leapt out of her chest by raising an eyebrow, hoping her dark features and intimidating aura would have the same effect on Nicky as she had on her.

“Bold of you to assume you won’t be the one getting punished,” Gigi said, glaring into Nicky’s eyes and hoping she matched Nicky’s ice-cold stare.

Nicky scoffed, an evil smirk forming on her pursed lips. “Oh please. Tell that to the girl who was lying on my shoulder 5 minutes ago, letting me pet her and stroke her hair. Or the girl who let me spank her earlier with no retaliation,” she started, her predator gaze burning into Gigi’s skin, making her want to squirm. “Face it, you’ve been practically begging for me to top you all night. You’re so pathetically desperate for it.”

Fuck.

Gigi’s breath quickened, the rise and fall of her chest matching the speed of her frantic heartbeat, sending adrenaline all around her body, electricity shooting down her legs and arms to the tips of her fingers.

Nicky saw that Gigi’s mask was slipping, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Gigi wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline or her anger that made her primal instincts kick in, but suddenly she was on top of Nicky, attacking her in a kiss. She used her height to her advantage, leaning over the smaller kiss and cupping her face, as she kissed her with a passion and strength that she wasn’t sure she still had in her.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongues, mostly because Gigi was overcome with desire and desperation and a strength of emotion she’d never felt before.

As for Nicky, she kissed back with more precision, but fuelled by the same fire that drove Gigi. She clutched Gigi’s wrist as she kissed her, so hard that Gigi was sure there would be finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow. Her movements were more controlled, as if she was set upon taking Gigi apart with ease and leisure, not allowing the other’s frantic movements to make her lose her cool.

When they pulled apart for air, Gigi wasn’t quite sure who’d won in their battle for dominance.

Before she could say another word, Nicky leaned up, so that the two were drawn level with each other, their noses practically touching as they stared into each other’s eyes with animalistic lust. “Someone’s touchy,” Nicky said with a cocky smirk. “Was that a little too close for comfort, darling?”

Gigi didn’t respond. She didn’t know how to respond, now that Nicky could see through her facade. Instead she simply bit the inside of her lip and broke the eye contact, too ashamed of her feelings to look Nicky in the eyes.

Her fucking beautiful eyes.

Nicky reached a hand up to Gigi’s face, delicately tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, before holding up her chin to face her. “Asked you a question, baby.”

Gigi felt a hand slide around her waist, pulling her in closer. Looking at the woman in front of her, Gigi was sure she’d never wanted someone as much in her life. She was so embarrassed, so ashamed that she was so turned on, and somehow it fuelled the emotion and made it even stronger.

She didn’t give a shit about who topped anymore. She just needed Nicky.

“Fuck the bet.”

Nicky smiled, tapping her nose. “That’s what I like to hear, baby. Call us a taxi. If you can still talk, that is.”

The taxi ride felt like the longest ride of her life. The only thing that kept Gigi tethered to reality was Nicky’s hand clutching hers tightly. But it couldn’t distract her from the aching need between her legs, and the quickening of her breath, which verged on hyperventilation at this point.

They sat in silence for a while, Gigi too consumed by her own thoughts, and Nicky having played the ‘I don’t speak much English’ to avoid awkward small talk with the taxi driver. The silence was broken, however, when Nicky leaned in and started placing butterfly kisses all over Gigi’s neck, feather-light. Gigi couldn’t help but melt into the touch, closing her eyes tight and imagining that they were anywhere but stuck inside a taxi, seatbelts holding them firmly in place. Gigi enveloped her in another frantic kiss, all teeth and tongues, and Nicky bit the other girl’s lower lip, reclaiming her dominance and causing Gigi to inhale sharply.

Before she knew it she was palming at Nicky’s chest over her red dress, longing for some sort of contact, and Nicky was sucking a precise mark onto Gigi’s neck that left her writhing. It caused a whine to escape from Gigi’s lips, a desperate, needy whine that made Nicky swear under her breath, and without a second for Gigi to comprehend what was happening, a hand was clamped firmly over her mouth.

It was animalistic, really, the way they clutched at each other. The bet was long forgotten in Gigi’s mind. She had never felt so strongly about another woman, never wanted anyone like this before. She was usually the one in control, the one who had made countless other girls writhe beneath her in the past.

Oh how the tables had turned.

When the taxi pulled up slowly at a red light, the two were so enamoured with each other to notice the driver, glaring at them from the rear view window.

“Ahem.”

Startled by the noise, the girls pulled themselves off each other in surprise and embarrassment, sitting up straight like they'd been caught cheating on a test. The cab driver shot each of them a dirty look from the mirror, making Gigi wonder if he was homophobic or one of those uptight straight guys that doesn’t like anyone messing up their car. Either way, that typically wasn’t the type of person Gigi liked.

Nicky shot him an affronted look in the mirror, eyes wide with disbelief, as if to say how dare he. “Do you need some medicine for that cough?” she said in her most sarcastic tone. “Or, uh, how you say….. some manners?”

The driver was silent.

Gigi was proud that they managed to sit in silence for about thirty seconds. But the moment Nicky made eye contact with her, the two erupted into fits of uncontrollable laughter, giggling like schoolchildren and trying to suppress their amusement with whispered pleas of ‘shhh!’ and ‘shut up!’ that were of no avail.

Needless to say, if the driver didn’t like them before that, he certainly didn’t like them now.

Between laughs, Nicky called out a ‘here’s fine’ to the driver, who was very excited to see the back of the pair of laughing hyenas from his car. Nicky tossed him a couple of bills, before pulling Gigi out of the car by her wrists, the two still unable to suppress their laughter.

They stumbled down the street as if they were both drunk, falling over each other and cackling, too caught up in their happiness to feel the cold chill on their skin.

It almost distracted Gigi from the need between her legs.

Almost.

“My apartment is a couple blocks away, but I couldn’t sit in that cab any longer,” Nicky chuckled. “A walk won’t do us any harm, anyway.”

Gigi smiled, her gaze lingering over Nicky’s for a little too long. “Babe, you’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

Nicky cocked her head to the side, bemused. “And what makes you say that?”

“I don’t know. It’s like I’ve known you for years. You’re so fun. And so nice,” she started, grabbing onto Nicky’s arm. “And simultaneously a complete bitch.”

Nicky smirked. “I thought you were being nice for a second, but I’ll take it.”

“Bitch, you knew exactly what you were doing to me at the bar. You can’t tell me that wasn’t a dick move.”

“You liked it though.”

Gigi laughed, biting her lip slightly. “Hate to admit it.”

Nicky looked amused. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, darling.”

“You’re cute all the time. Drop dead fucking gorgeous, actually.”

“You’re one to talk, pretty girl.”

Gigi would be lying if she didn’t feel herself blush a little at that.

“So, about tonight… do you still want me to top? Because if you’re not comfortable we can-“

“No! No, no, I want you to top. Please.”

“Are you sure darling? Because if you want-“

“I’m sure. I don’t think I could top you if I tried.”

Nicky laughed to herself. “Aw, she finally admits it at last.”

“Fuck you,” Gigi whined, hitting Nicky playfully on the arm.

Nicky raised her eyebrows, a stern expression creeping onto her face. “None of that language baby. I wanna make you feel really good, darling, but I can only do that if you’re a good girl for me, okay?”

Gigi felt a lump in her throat. “I’ll try. I’ve never done this before though. Subbed.”

“That’s okay, angel, we don’t have to go too far.” Nicky smiled reassuringly at the girl. “But I know what I’m doing. I know how to make you feel really really good, so I need you to trust me, okay?”

Gigi wasn’t sure why, but she did.

“Put your hands above your head, bitch.”

“You get into character quickly, don’t you?” Gigi remarked, staring directly into Nicky’s eyes, which were centimetres from her face. She felt the weight of Nicky’s hips pressing harder into hers, forcing her against the hard wood of the apartment door.

“Don’t be cocky, baby. I already told you it’s not a good look,” Nicky replied, grabbing Gigi’s wrists and holding them above her head herself.

Nicky’s pupils were blown wide, and they scanned the face of the girl before her with an intimate precision that Gigi had never witnessed before. Gigi smirked. She liked this new side to Nicky, this dominant persona who seemed set upon making her unravel.

But of course, Gigi wasn’t about to make things easy for her.

With that, she leaned forward and planted another kiss on Nicky’s parted lips, her tongue sliding into her mouth and her eyes closing shut, transfixed by the softness that she buried herself into.

The kiss was short-lived, however, when Nicky pulled away sharply, one arm pushing Gigi back against the door. Her head bumped against it lightly, and a stern gaze took over Nicky’s features, a mixture of anger and lust. “Thought you were going to be a good girl for me, angel,” she said, tucking a strand of Gigi’s hair behind her ear. “Good girls don’t touch without permission.”

“I can’t help it. You just look so good,” Gigi husked, biting her lip sensually, and Nicky let out a shattered breath, Gigi’s dilated pupils meeting her own.

Nicky slid her knee in between Gigi’s thighs. “If you don’t start behaving, we’re going to have a problem.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?”

In one swift motion, Nicky pulled Gigi forward by her wrists, landing a slap on her ass over her black dress. “Bedroom. Now.”

The night was a blur of silk bed sheets and passion. The smell of sweat and sex was in the air, the cool breeze from the open window mingling with the heat on their skin. The marks of ropes around Gigi’s wrists and scratches on her skin and love-bites on her neck were still there the next day. And, so was Nicky, to Gigi’s surprise.

Gigi was the first to awaken of the two the next morning. The New York skyline was illuminated by the golden sunrise that seeped through the silk curtains. The plump pillow that Gigi’s head was buried in was soft against her bare skin, and she propped it up against the bed frame, sitting up a little as she stretched and yawned, hands rubbing her eyes. The cold morning air hit her shoulders as she made herself comfortable.

She found herself with only the littlest portion of blanket keeping her decent - the rest was wrapped around Nicky like a sleeping bag, and she curled it up in her arms like she was cuddling a toy.

She presumed that the duvet was her replacement for Gigi when she had rolled over.

Gigi looked down at the woman beside her, laying on her side, her face a picture of peacefulness. Her blonde hair was spread out on the pillow around her head like a halo, and even the remnants of mascara and eyeliner around her eyes didn’t distract from the purity of her features. Her mouth was open just a little, and soft breaths escaped her lips as her chest rose and fell like a metronome.

She was beautiful.

Gigi was extremely glad that she had let her stay the night at her apartment. To be honest, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to make it home after the night she had.

Looking at Nicky fast asleep, Gigi would have never believed that it was the same woman from last night.

But, she was glad that it was. She liked that Nicky could be sexy and dominant, and then immediately switch back to being caring and sweet.

The sentiment was true last night, with Nicky offering Gigi all the cuddles and kisses she could as they drifted to sleep. Gigi remembered falling asleep to Nicky aimlessly stroking her hair, whispering something french in her ear.

And god did Gigi need that.

The night was the hottest in Gigi’s life. Nicky had tied her to the bedposts, and made her beg for her to eat her out. When she finished, Gigi found herself doing the same for Nicky, her head being roughly thrust between her legs. And then she was being fingered, and the cycle continued until she’d come more times than she could remember.

It was dirty and humiliating, but god it was hot.

The best part though, was that she got to know Nicky some more. She was surprisingly such a sweetheart, taking such good care of Gigi after they played. Gigi didn’t think anyone could make her want to sub, but she especially didn't expect it to be someone who was really kind.

Trust Jackie to know the perfect woman.

It was then that Gigi remembered the bet.

Shit.

She knew that even if she didn’t admit that she subbed, her friends would find out one way or another. Drinks were on her this weekend. Good thing she’d saved a little money. She guessed she’d be hearing about the milkshake incident for a little while longer, too.

That was ok, she supposed. After the night she’d had with Nicky, it was worth the embarrassment.

Besides, without the bet she would’ve never met Nicky.

She looked down at the still sleeping girl, her nose scrunched and her brows furrowed. She was adorable.

Gigi was definitely going to ask her out on a date.

Maybe they could go get some milkshakes together.

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi x nicky #gigi goode #nicky doll #lesbian au #fluff #smut #peridot #concrit welcome #tw dom/sub dynamics #s12

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narcissasdaffodil · 4 years ago

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"things you said under the stars and in the grass" for marisol and alecto? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽💙

Thanks so much for the ask! @thoracicorchid requested this one too, I hope both of you enjoy this! I find it difficult to keep Marilecto stuff short, so here’s a 1668 word oneshot. This one is definitely in LCBC verse, enjoy x

“It’s like a million little stars spelling out your name.”

Getting some time to properly relax in the Villa appears to be very difficult, especially in terms of alone time. The evenings were still so warm and she sits fiddling with a daisy and spins it in her fingers. She leans against a sun lounger and props up her back. Choosing to sit on the grass was probably weird, but oh well. You don’t mind being weird.

Everyone else is distracted by the party, so no one spots her sneak away. She slides off her leather jacket and looks up at the sky. She sets it safely on the sun lounger and feels the warm air.

Being able to see the stars was a rare occurrence for her. She lives in a tiny flat in London with her cat Sadie, and her flatmate, who moved recently. She’s been meaning to find someone to take her place, rent in London is pretty ridiculous.

She hums softly and traces Andromeda, Pisces and Pegasus in the air. She has learned the stars and constellations through years of self study, along with her twin sister Quinn having a considerable interest in astronomy and astrophysics, she even decided to choose astrophysics as a degree. She’s absorbed a lot of information since.

The rest of her surroundings falls away, she focuses entirely on the night sky above. Her ears pop, and the hustle and bustle of the party floats away, and leaves her in silence. She taps her leg and fills the silence with the soft sound of her own voice.

“Have a seat upon this branch of mine, it’s been a while honey I think I feel fine,” she relaxes into the song and lets it take her over. For so long she would only sing in private so to do this, to let herself free was bigger than most people could guess.

“Oh my my, oh my stars, everything you see is ours. Or it could be if you would try. I wish you would, I wish you might.”

Marisol sets her empty glass down on the counter and scans the group for Alecto. If she was anywhere, she’d be with Hope or Lucas. Marisol stretches on her tiptoes and moves through the crowd as she notices Lucas’ tall frame towards the outskirts. She ducks under someone’s arm, a finger sets her glasses slightly wonky on her face. She stops and adjusts them and mutters under her breath in the direction of a tipsy Bobby. He seriously can’t dance to save his life. It could be the alcohol and quite easily could have been worse. At least your glasses are still safe and on your face.

She makes her way over to Lucas before she can get sidetracked and before she loses the nerve and forgets her mission. Alecto’s so happy with him, she might eventually forget about you. But you want to maintain her friendship, it’s by far one of the healthiest you have had.

She taps Lucas on the arm, and when he turns towards her, she feels a lump in her throat that she has to try to speak past. An awkward silence lasts between them, nothing like the silences she has with Alecto, and Lucas is the one to break it.

“Marisol?” He looks at her quizzically, a question on his lips. She supposes it was strange, her talking to him of all people, but he was usually attached at the hip to Alecto so her first bet for who could find her.

“What do you need? If this is about whether or not I am interested in you, the answer is still very much no.” He continues.

Her cheeks flush red as she has a painful flashback. Of course trying to go for him before would bite you in the arse. Alecto maybe gave you permission, but you made an absolute fool of yourself.

“Um...no, I wasn’t going to ask that. I know you’re with Alecto, and you two are happy together and that’s fine... Completely fine. I was actually wondering if you’d seen where she went, you two are usually so close to one another, you’re practically attached at the hip.” Marisol winces slightly as she trips over her words, her voice wavers as she speaks. Being a mess around everyone you somewhat like is difficult. Especially when they’ve rejected you, twice now.

“My apologies then. I didn’t intend to assume anything, that was wrong of me,”

he winces slightly at his misstep, and gives her a sincere apology. “She just went for some time to herself, but she did tell me that if you come to find her, to let you know that she was by the loungers. So I’m passing that on.” He pats her shoulder awkwardly and looks at her with sympathy.

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” She makes a hasty exit before she can embarrass herself further and starts to make her way over to the sun loungers. She feels hot tears behind her eyes and blinks them back furiously. You’re not going to cry over this. You’re definitely not, you got upset the first time you got rejected by him. He did let you down gently though. You’re just so used to always being the bridesmaid, never the bride.

She hears Alecto before she sees her, and notices her gentle voice. She halts midstep and listens.

“If everything you’ve said to me has been true, then all my stars are leading me to you.”

She watches the song absorb Alecto, her emotions forgotten for a while. She looks really magical now, there in the starlight. And singing a song about stars of all things.

The silence returns to the area as Alecto finishes and Marisol makes her way over. She notices how Alecto sits on the grass and leans her back against the sun lounger, and finds herself questioning why the grass of all things. She sits down on the sun lounger, next to Alecto’s jacket and accidentally sits on Alecto’s spread out hair as she sits with her head leaned back on the sun lounger.

“Oww! Could you please stand up then move my hair out the way? Thank you.” Alecto sounds grumpy which sparks back Marisol’s tears from earlier. Marisol ducks her head as she stands up and gently moves Alecto’s hair aside before perching on the sun lounger. She curls up her legs and rests her chin on her knees and hides her face behind a curtain of hair.

“Hey. Look. If I was harsh earlier, I’m sorry. It just hurt having you sit on my hair.” Alecto sits up and climbs onto the sun lounger. She rests an arm around Marisol’s shoulders.

Marisol bites her lip, silent tears making their way down her cheeks. “It...it’s not your fault. Lucas got the wrong end of the stick earlier and thought I was flirting with him again. He did apologise for his misstep, but it hurt to...to be reminded of my failure there yet again. And Bobby is yet to apologise for the way he treated me during OP Nope, how he thought I’d instantly...risk my friendship with Hope, and with you to risk being the Villa’s most hated again. It was difficult enough the first time. It sounds so stupid...both things I’m upset about. You can laugh, if you like.”

Alecto moves Marisol’s hair from her face and lightly catches hold of her chin. Marisol finds herself unable to turn her head away from Alecto, her warm brown eyes are strangely magnetic.

“Mari, listen to me. I wouldn’t laugh. I’m serious about that. I mean, I just gave Bobby hell for the way he treated you and Hope, and me, but the way he treated me is less important. I have a stable relationship, something which both you and Hope are struggling with. I know being so alone before hurt you, so of course you wouldn’t risk it again. As for Lucas, he apologised for it, which is something positive there. I know that the first rejection hurt you, but you will eventually find someone just for you. Maybe even me. You just need to keep believing. You’ll be okay, I promise, and I’ll stay by your side too. You deserve the world, and I wish I could magic it up just to see you smile.” Alecto’s voice softens, but it still maintains strength. She reaches over and wipes Marisol’s tears with a finger.

“Thank you. You really don’t have to do this.” Marisol protests slightly, unable to believe she deserves Alecto’s kindness.

“Yes, I don’t have to. But I want to. That’s the difference. I don’t need a reason to want to cheer up my best friend, right?” She squeezes Marisol’s hand, and causes Marisol to look up at her. “Look up at the sky, and tell me what you see.”

Marisol tilts her head skywards, and studies the night sky through teary eyes. The tears blur her vision slightly, and she removes her glasses and wipes them, then returns to the sky.

“Stars and constellations. They’re pretty…” her voice turns wavery in wonder as she studies the sky.

“Your blood contains a lot of iron, specifically in the molecules of haemoglobin. The iron is the product of a massive star that blew up 8 billion years ago, which means you have stardust in your veins due to that star exploding. Everything on the Earth originated from stardust, including us. We have it floating through us today, at this very minute. We are made of stardust. Isn’t that magical?” As she speaks, Alecto becomes very animated, as she gestures with her hands as she speaks. Her eyes brighten, and Marisol can see sparks in them, very like stardust.

Marisol is unable to reply, just finds herself staring at Alecto in wonder.

“Which is why I’m so insistent that you’re magical, and wonderful. You contain stars within you, which are definitely magical and wonderful for sure.”

#litg #love island the game #litg marisol #litgs2 #litg fanfic #marisol x mc #fanfic #love can be chosen

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king-finnigan · 5 years ago

Text

Looking Up For Heaven - Oneshot

Summary: The first time you touch your soulmate, you remember things - the other life, people call it. Jaskier's heard the stories of this other life: witches, wizards, magic, medieval but not quite medieval. His flatmate, Yennefer, has already met her soulmate, and remembers the other life, but Jaskier is still not sold on the idea, and would rather not be a part of this bullshit.

Pairing/Warnings: Geralt x Jaskier, Modern AU, Soulmate AU

A/n: Look this is either the most creative fic I’ve ever written, or just one big pile of flaming garbage, that’s honestly up to you to decide. Title and idea from Glory by Bastille (and my fav song ever!). As always, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy, and don’t hesitate to leave a like and a comment if you feel like it!

You can also read this on AO3! M A S T E R L I S T

Jaskier sighs as he stares at his reflection the mirror, hand threading through his hair. It’s slightly greasy and he remembers he forgot to take a shower today. Again. For the third day in a row. Goddammit.

He sighs again, looking at his flatmate in the reflection of the mirror, as she pulls her raven curls up into a ponytail. “Do I really have to go, Yen?” He ignores how whiny he sounds, instead leaning on the wash basin with his forearms, chin resting on them as he pouts at Yennefer’s reflection.

She scoffs from where she’s sitting on the edge of the once-white bath, tying her ponytail with one of her girlfriend’s scrunchies, the bright yellow a stark contrast with the rest of her exclusively black outfit. “Yes, you have to go, Julian. You promised a week ago that you would, and Triss will be really upset if you don’t show up.”

She gets up from the side of the tub, taking the half step towards the wash basin, pushing him aside. “Scoot, idiot.” She takes her eyeliner from the open cabinet next to the mirror, uncapping it, leaning her elbow next to the sink as she slowly, deliberately, traces a line over her eyelid. “I swear to god, if you make her sad, I will throw all your food in the trash and bend the needle of your record player.”

He frowns, leaning back against the edge of the sink, arms crossed in front of him. “Fine, whatever, I’ll go, then. Just don’t break my record player. It took me five weekends at bloody Starbucks to afford it.” He suppresses a shudder at the memory of working customer service.

Yennefer finishes her eyeliner, grabbing her mascara from the cabinet. He takes the eyeliner from where it’s lying on the sink, twirling it in his hands, as she rolls her eyes at him. “Don’t even know why you want a record player so badly, but okay. You know you can just stream music, right?”

He scoffs. “Oh, please, everyone knows vinyl sounds better than digital.”

She side-eyes him, eyes widening for a bit as she looks at her reflection again. “Okay, grandpa, if you say so.”

He sighs again, still twirling the eyeliner in his hands, as she finishes her mascara, pulling her ponytail taut again – even though it’s not sagging in the slightest. She finishes her makeup with a dark lipstick, before casting a last wink at her reflection and turning her back to the mirror, leaning against the sink, next to him. “Alright, what is it, Julian? We’ve been living together long enough for me to recognize an ‘I’m so sad please ask me if I’m okay’-sigh when I hear one.”

He side-eyes her for a moment, but she simply stares at him, dark-painted lips pursed, violet eyes stubborn, waiting for him to speak. After a few moments he sighs again, relenting under her unforgiving gaze. “Fine, I really don’t feel like going to this party.” He looks at her, cutting her off before she can scold him again: “Yes, I know Triss would be upset if I didn’t show up, but, like, I don’t know anyone there, and you know I hate crowds.”

She rolls her eyes. “Here’s an idea: maybe if you made some fucking friends for once, you’d actually know someone at this party. You really need to go out more, you can’t just sit in the flat all day, pretending to study.”

He gapes at her. “I do study, like, all the time! Hell, I have two essays due next week that I need a lot of time for. And if I didn’t go to the party, I’d actually be able to finish them in time.”

She scoffs, shaking her head slightly as she looks at the once-blue tiles of the wall opposite them. “Yeah, sure. I know you procrastinate, Julian. A lot. You’re just using these essays as an excuse to stay at home. We’re both well aware you wouldn’t do shit.”

He sighs, throwing his head back a bit. “Okay, fine, maybe I would spend all evening bingeing Netflix. Still, that’s a hell of a lot more fun than standing in the corner of some bar all evening. I love Triss, I really do, but I’m not willing to spend all those hours bored out of my mind and getting panic attacks when there’s too many people.”

She sighs, bumping into his shoulder slightly. “I know, alright? I know you can’t really talk to people and that crowds make you anxious, and I know that this evening is probably going to be a waste of time for you, but you promised, okay? You promised Triss that you would be there and she’s really looking forward to seeing you again. She’s going to be really disappointed if you don’t show up.” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper. “And so am I. You really need to go out more, Julian, you can’t spend the rest of your life cooped up in this apartment. You’re never going to make other friends or meet your soulmate if you sit inside all day.”

He scoffs at his feet when she mentions soulmates, but she simply ducks her head to meet his eyes. “Please, Julian, just go to this one party. If not for yourself or Triss, then for me.”

He sighs again, throwing his head back, looking at the mouldy ceiling. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. If only to stop you nagging.”

She laughs. “Oh, please, I’m never going to stop nagging. Speaking of,” she looks at him, one perfect eyebrow arched up, “you seriously need a change of clothes before we leave.”

He frowns at her. “As opposed to changing my clothes after we leave?” He laughs as she smacks him in the back of his head.

“You know what I meant, idiot. Seriously, at least wear some jeans, you look like you live in your mum’s basement and play Fortnite all day.” She gestures at his sweatpants, and he rolls his eyes. “And at least wear, like, a hoodie. It’s cold outside and that thin-ass shirt won’t be enough to keep you warm.”

He rolls his eyes, but pushes away from the sink anyway, calling over his shoulder as he walks to his bedroom. “Fine, alright! Jeez, mum. What’s next? You’ll tell me I have to comb my hair and part it in the middle so I can bedazzle my soulmate with my charming good looks?”

He rummages through his closet, pulling out the least crumpled jeans out from the pile of unfolded clothes, as he hears Yennefer letting herself fall on his unmade bed. “Actually, yes. I think you’d look dashing with a middle part and you’d be sure to instantly woo your soulmate once you meet them.”

He snorts as he pulls off his sweatpants, wiggling into the slightly too skinny jeans. “I don’t think I’m going to meet my soulmate, like, ever.” He struggles with the button a bit, sucking in his stomach. “Don’t think I want to.”

Yennefer looks at him, frowning a bit. “Why not? It’s such great fun, honestly. Like, you get all these memories of this cool-ass other life, and you get an added bonus of, you know, having a soulmate. Like, me and Triss didn’t even have to date, I immediately got this amazing girlfriend. It’s a win-win, my dude.”

He scoffs, rummaging through the pile of clothes at the bottom of his wardrobe again, pulling out a light blue hoodie with great difficulty. “Okay, first of all, you got lucky with Triss. There are a ton of people who end up hating their soulmate.” She shrugs, snorting as he struggles to pull the hoodie over his head. “Secondly,” he continues, when he has finally managed to put it on, “why would I want to know about the other life? Huh?”

Yennefer scoffs, as he sits on his desk chair, pulling on his Vans. “Because it’s cool as fuck. Did you know I was a witch in the other life? So was Triss, by the way.” She sighs, looking at her phone. “Though, I do miss being able to portal everywhere, that was really tight.”

He pulls his leg up, tying his shoelaces. “See? I don’t want to miss something I’ll never be able to get back. Also, your other life was cool, sure, but what if mine sucks, huh? What then? What if I died, like, the most stupid death humanly possible? And that’s another thing,” he continues to rant, as he ties the laces of his other shoe, “why would I want to remember how I died? That sounds like shit. Like, you remember how you died in the other life, that’s not a fun memory, right?”

Yennefer shrugs. “I mean, I got stabbed and fell off a tower in the middle of a battle, that’s all I remember. Didn’t hurt that much, really. And I’m sure you were an alright person in the other life. Probably royalty, since you’re so unbelievably stuck-up.”

She laughs as he flips her off. “Piss off, I’m serious. I don’t want to know about the other life. People keep saying you’ll really find your true self when you first touch your soulmate and remember, and they’re all like ‘ooh, you don’t know real happiness until you experience the glory of meeting your soulmate’ but that just all sounds like such bullshit. What’s wrong with this life? Why does everyone say it’s not enough? It’s enough for me so far.”

He sighs, gritting his teeth as he stops his rant, cheeks hot with annoyance. Yennefer simply stares at him from where she’s still lying on his bed, one eyebrow pulled up. It’s quiet for a few moments, until she speaks: “Are you done? Cause it’s nine thirty and we should leave right about now if we want to be fashionably late and not just plain late.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes, grabbing his phone from his desk. “Yeah, let’s go.”

҉ ҉ ҉

“Oh my god, Julian, you made it!” Triss’ voice is loud and clear above the noise of the people at the bar, as she nearly skips her way over to him and Yennefer, pulling him into a tight hug. He’s barely able to return it before she holds him at an arm’s length, beaming at him. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Hello, I’m here too,” Yennefer says next to him, and Triss laughs as she pulls her girlfriend into a short kiss.

“Oh, please, Yen, you’re so needy.” The two of them smile at each other and Jaskier clears his throat, kind of uncomfortable. He turns to the bar right next to them, ordering a tequila, only half paying attention to Triss and Yennefer’s conversation.

“So,” Yennefer asks, “who’s here?”

Triss looks around, pointing to different people as she names them. “Mostly friends from uni,” she waves at a group of people in one of the corners, “not a lot of people. Only Sabrina, Fringilla, and Anica. Istredd is still on his way, though.”

She turns her head left and right, stretching her neck a bit to see over the crowd of regular pub-goers. “I invited Geralt as well, but I haven’t seen him yet.” She shrugs. “He might not even show up, though, he said he’s not a big fan of parties.”

Jaskier takes the tequila from the barman, paying before he turns, sipping his drink as he leans his back against the bar. He sees Yennefer shoot him an uncomfortable look, something he can’t quite place, before she turns back to Triss. “Uh… who’s this Geralt-guy?” She glances back at him again for a second. “Haven’t heard of him.”

Triss blinks, visibly confused for a second, before some sort of realization dawns in her eyes. “Uh… oh, yeah! I uh… met him yesterday in the uni cafeteria. He was sitting all by himself and he looked kinda lonely so I joined him.”

Jaskier looks up, snorting a bit. “You sat with a total stranger and then invited him to your birthday party because he looked lonely?”

Triss blinks again, bright smile faltering a bit. “Uh… yeah, I guess I did. Anyways, he’s a really nice guy, I think you should really meet him, Julian. You know, give him a chance?”

He frowns. “What do you mean ‘give him a chance’?”

Yennefer clears her throat, she and her girlfriend sharing another strange look Jaskier doesn’t really understand. “At being a friend. You seriously need to make some friends, remember? Also, he doesn’t know anyone else at the party, either, so you two can be socially awkward together.”

Jaskier frowns again. “How do you know he’s socially awkward? I thought you never met him.”

She shrugs. “Well, he must be if he was sitting on his own.” Jaskier nods, not entirely convinced there isn’t something else going on as well, but he decides against asking about it. Maybe later, he thinks, as he sips his drink, looking at his phone a bit.

It’s rowdy and hot in the pub, and he can already feel a panic attack starting to build, as his eyes dart around, lungs constricting in his chest a bit. Yennefer and Triss have made their way over to their friends, leaving him on his own at the bar. He downs his tequila, placing the glass on the countertop behind him.

He’s contemplating making a bee-line to the side door and slipping away into the night – maybe getting a taxi – when someone stands next to him, ordering a beer from the barman. Jaskier looks to his right, eyes first meeting a black leather jacket, seeing long, white hair as he looks up a bit. He directs his gaze to his phone as quickly as possible, hoping the guy next to him won’t notice how much he seems to be blushing because fuck, this guy is hot.

He chances another look up, startling when he meets amber eyes. He swallows thickly, as the guy looks away again, taking the beer from the barman and tipping generously – Jaskier notices. He expects the guy to walk away, and part of him is already dreading never seeing those amber eyes again.

The guy doesn’t, though. He turns around, leaning against the bar, next to Jaskier, sipping his beer as he looks over the crowded room. Jaskier looks at his feet, fumbling with his phone a bit, unsure of what to say or to do.

He sighs in relief as he hears Triss’ voice, clear above the murmur of the crowd. “Oh my god, hi, Geralt!” She drags Yennefer behind her as they make their way over to Jaskier and the mysterious guy – apparently Geralt. She smiles brightly as she looks between the two of them. “So, I see you’ve already met Julian! This is my girlfriend Yennefer, by the way.” Yennefer gives a small smile and a weak wave from behind her soulmate. “Julian is her flat mate! You two really should get to know each other, I think you’d be great friends!”

Jaskier frowns at her, and he can see Geralt cocking his head in the corner of his eye. Triss smiles brightly, though, and looks behind her at Yennefer, who gives her girlfriend a reassuring nod. Reassuring her of what – Jaskier is not sure yet, but he narrows his eyes at his friend nonetheless.

“Oh! Look!” Triss says. “Istredd is here! And he brought some friends! Come on, Yen, we should go greet them.” She turns back to Jaskier and Geralt, giving them a final wave before disappearing in the crowd, leaving him alone with the guy. Great.

She was right though – Istredd did bring a ton of friends, and the bar feels a lot stuffier and rowdier than it did a few minutes ago. He considers leaving again, but doesn’t want to be impolite towards Geralt, so he stands there, leaning against the bar, heart racing, lungs constricting and oh fuck, he’s starting to have a panic attack.

His hands tremble as he fidgets with the hem of his pale blue hoodie, and he wishes he hadn’t worn it, even though it’s his favourite sweater. It’s too warm in the room, and he can feel sweat starting to form on his brow. He tries to keep his breathing even, but that only results in spots dancing across his vision from lack of oxygen, and his chest hiccupping with every other breath.

After a minute or so of silent suffering, he’s had enough. He throws a tight smile at Geralt, who looks at him weirdly, and mutters a “nice meeting you” before pushing through the crowd towards the side door, his shoulders bumping into several people on the way.

Once outside, he takes in deep, gulping breaths of night air, leaning forward, resting his hands on his knees. It’s blissfully quiet in the side alley, and he closes his eyes, waiting for the rush of blood in his ears to subside.

The door opens behind him, flooding him with light and noise before it’s closed again. He doesn’t look up, waiting for Yennefer to start her rant that he needs to practice conscious breathing when he feels a panic attack coming up, or Triss to ask him if he’s alright and if there’s anything she can do for him.

Instead, he hears a deep voice behind him. “Are you okay?” He stretches out again, looking behind him to see Geralt, amber eyes surprisingly concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…” he shrugs, looking at his feet “had a bit of a panic attack.”

Geralt takes a tentative step towards him. “You wanna talk about it?”

Jaskier smiles, shaking his head slightly. He hadn’t taken Geralt for a talkative person, so the fact that the guy offered to talk about it means a lot to him, surprisingly. “No, it’s fine.” He shrugs again, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “Just don’t like crowds.”

Geralt smiles a bit, and oh god, oh shit, oh fuck, he looks so hot when he smiles. “Yeah, same here. Not a big fan of them.” Jaskier looks around, the street in front of the bar deserted. He’s not sure what’s down the alley, but he might find a taxi there.

He looks back at Geralt, who’s shifting from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “It was nice meeting you, Geralt.” He starts walking down the alley, hands still in the pocket of his hoodie. He hears footsteps behind him and half turns around, frowning as he sees the guy catching up with him.

“Where are you going?” Geralt is walking next to him now, and Jaskier takes half a step to the side in the small alley, making sure their shoulders don’t brush.

He cocks his head. “Why do you want to know?”

And he might definitely be mistaken but he could swear he sees Geralt blush in the dim light of the streetlamps behind them. “Just doesn’t seem very safe, walking into an alley on your own in the middle of the night.”

Jaskier smiles. “And it’s safer to walk into an alley in the middle of the night with a stranger?”

He can see Geralt chewing on his lip, frowning deeply. “I suppose not.” He stops walking, and Jaskier does, too, after a couple of steps, turning back to Geralt. “If you want me to leave, Julian, that’s okay, I’ll leave.”

Jaskier laughs a bit, shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry.” He keeps walking, signaling with his head for Geralt to follow him again. “Come on, let’s keep moving, it’s too cold to stand still.”

Geralt falls in step next to him and Jaskier can’t help but smile. He looks to his side. “My name’s not Julian, by the way.” Geralt frowns at him, confused, and Jaskier shrugs. “It is, officially, but my parents changed their minds a few weeks after I was born, and named me Jaskier, but didn’t change the legal documents. Yennefer just calls me Julian to spite me, and Triss does it cause she thinks it’s more polite, and I don’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Geralt laughs, shaking his head slightly. “I only met her yesterday, but that sounds exactly like her.”

Jaskier cocks his head. “I am wondering, though, Geralt, why did you come to the party? Like you said, you only met Triss yesterday.”

Geralt shrugs, hands buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. “She was very insistent. And, just like you, I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Jaskier smiles, nodding a bit. “Fair enough.”

He side-steps around a garbage bag, before they reach the street behind the pub. It’s deserted. Well, fuck. So long, taxi. He looks around, the street stretching into the darkness on both sides. There’s a fenced off field in front of him, and he can see street lamps and cars passing by on a street on the other side of the field. He begins walking forward.

“Where are you going?” He hears Geralt call behind him.

He half turns around, pointing to the field with his thumb as he walks sideways. “Gonna hop the fence, go to that street over there and try and find a tax-“

His sentence is cut off abruptly as he trips over a small rock in the middle of the road, painfully hitting his head on the curb as he falls on his side. “Shit!”

He clutches his head as he sits up, but luckily there’s no blood on his hand, as he pulls it back. It is going to be a nasty bump, tomorrow, though. “Jaskier! You okay?” He looks up as Geralt half-jogs towards him across the street, looking both ways even though the neighborhood seems deserted.

He’s almost reached Jaskier, when he trips over his own feet, landing on his knees next to Jaskier. “Shit!”

Jaskier can’t help but laugh, clutching his stomach as he wheezes. God, just a pair of fucking idiots, lying in the middle of the street. He laughs harder when Geralt frowns at him, though the guy can’t help but laugh as well, as tears start to form in Jaskier’s eyes.

He gasps for air between fits of giggles, and leans back, lying on the asphalt, still clutching his stomach as he hiccups. He feels Geralt joining him, lying next to him in the middle of the street. “You okay, Jask?”

He finally quiets down and nods. He turns to Geralt. “You called me Jask.”

The guy shrugs, seemingly blushing again, though Jaskier tells himself it’s just a trick the streetlamps are playing on his eyes. “You don’t like it?”

Jaskier smiles, looking up at the sky. “No, no, I do like it. Just… no one’s ever called me that.”

Geralt shrugs again. They lie there in silence for a few moments, staring up at the night sky, the sound of cars in the distance.

“So, Geralt, what do you study?” He looks to his side again, admiring Geralt’s profile.

“Veterinary.”

Jaskier pushes himself up on one elbow, looking down on Geralt, who smiles softly. “Really? Didn’t take you for an animal lover, honestly.”

Geralt shrugs. “Most people don’t. I just have a soft spot for horses, I guess.”

Jaskier can’t help but smile at that. “Oh? Why horses, specifically?”

Amber eyes grow distant, as if Geralt’s suddenly transported into his own memories. “My dad’s got a horse farm, in the countryside. Taught me how to ride and take care of them at a young age.” He blinks, and suddenly he seems to be back in reality, as he looks at Jaskier. “What about you, though? What do you study?”

Jaskier leans back again, unable to look into Geralt’s eyes too long, for some reason. “English Lit.”

He hears Geralt chuckle next to him. “I wish I could say I didn’t take you for a book lover, but I’d be lying.”

Jaskier laughs a bit. “Alright, fair enough.”

He hears the quiet sound of a cap being unscrewed and looks to the side, seeing Geralt take a swig from a metal flask. “Wow, dude, you’ve come prepared.”

Geralt smiles, handing the flask to Jaskier. “What can I say? Pubs are expensive.” Jaskier laughs, feeling a slight burn in his throat as he takes a sip of whiskey – apparently Geralt’s a whiskey kind of guy. Horses and whiskey.

He laughs as he imagines Geralt, with a frown on his face, downing a bottle of Jack Daniels as he rides on a horse, wearing a cowboy outfit. He sits up as he chokes on the whiskey, coughing violently into his elbow. Geralt sits up next to him as well. “You okay?”

Jaskier gasps for air, coughing the last bit of whiskey from his airway, tears in the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, fine, just thought of something funny.” Geralt shoots him a questioning look and Jaskier shakes his head. “It’s not important.”

Geralt lays back down, taking the flask as Jaskier hands it to him, putting it back in the pocket of his leather jacket, folding his arms behind his head. “Well, watch out the next time you think about something unimportant, then. Don’t want you to laugh until you die.”

Jaskier smiles, laying back down on the pavement. “Honestly, can you think of any better way to choke?”

Geralt smiles as well. “Hmm.”

It’s quiet between them for a couple more moments, as they look at the night sky. The light pollution of the city makes it hard for him to see the stars, but he can make out some blinking lights in the dark abyss above. He points up. “Look, a plane.”

Geralt nods next to him, then points to the right of where Jaskier’s pointing. “Another one.”

Jaskier nods as well. “Very busy night for the plane business.”

And Geralt’s chuckle might be the most beautiful thing he’s heard in his whole life.

“So,” Geralt starts, and Jaskier looks at his profile again, noticing how soft the white hair looks and how much he wants to touch it, “do you do this often?” Geralt turns his head towards Jaskier, and oh god, those lips look so kissable.

He blinks. “Do what?”

Geralt smiles. “Lying in the middle of the road at one in the morning with strangers?”

Jaskier shakes his head. “No, I never do that. See, I know your name and you’ve watched me fall on my face, so we’re not really strangers anymore, are we?”

Geralt looks at the night sky again. “No, I suppose not.” He lets out a long deep breath, and Jaskier can see small clouds above his face in the cold air. “So,” he looks back at Jaskier, “what do you do in your spare time?”

Jaskier scoffs. “You mean besides watching Netflix and pretending to study?” Geralt laughs, and Jaskier can’t help but vow to make this guy laugh as many times as he possibly can, because he can’t imagine ever getting tired of the sound. He shrugs. “I don’t know, really. Lie in the middle of the road at one in the morning, and look up for heaven, I guess.”

Geralt frowns a bit. “What do you mean with looking up for heaven?”

Jaskier shrugs. “Well, people always say that when you find your soulmate you will find glory or some shit, but… I don’t know. It’s always sounded like an empty promise to me. Something that only happens if you find your soulmate, and… what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Wait?” He shakes his head, looking at the sky, watching as another plane passes overhead. “No, I don’t really like that. Life has meaning even if you don’t have a soulmate or if you haven’t found them yet. I can’t do anything with empty words for glory, so I’ll just be here, looking up for heaven, trying to find something else to strive towards.”

It’s quiet for another moment, and eventually he turns his head, looking at Geralt, amber eyes searching his face. Finally, he speaks: “You said ‘even if you don’t have a soulmate’. Everyone has one, though.”

Jaskier scoffs. “I don’t believe that. I mean, my parents were supposedly soulmates. They did the whole thing: touching each other for the first time, seeing the other life, falling in love, marrying, getting a kid. But then they ended up hating each other. So were they really soulmates, then? I don’t believe so.”

Geralt nods, turning his head towards the night sky. “I understand. I don’t know if my parents were soulmates, I never met them.”

Jaskier frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Geralt smiles and shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ve got my adoptive father. He never found his soulmate, though, but he seems at peace with it. I think you’d like him.”

Jaskier smiles as well. “I mean, he owns a horse farm, so I’m already sold.”

Geralt laughs again, and maybe Jaskier feels something flutter in the pit of his stomach, but he’s probably just hungry or something. He sees another plane pass by. “Kind of weird, isn’t it? That there’s a scientific explanation for everything in this world, except for the other life and the whole soulmate ordeal.”

Geralt nods. “Guess we really know nothing at all, when push comes to shove. We can only make the best of what we have, as long as we’re here, and maybe there’s something afterwards, who knows? Maybe another life, where soulmates will remember this one when they touch for the first time.”

Jaskier smirks, half turning his head to Geralt. “Now who’s looking up for heaven?”

Geralt scoffs, half turning towards Jaskier as well. “Not me. I’ll take my chances on the curb here with you, thank you very much.”

Jaskier notices little, dark brown flecks in Geralt’s amber eyes, and has to look away, a blush gracing his cheeks. In the distance a church bell chimes three times. Jaskier looks at his phone, suspicions confirmed: it’s three in the morning already. “Huh, it’s getting late.” He sighs, putting his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie. “I have class in the morning. I should probably get going.”

He makes no move to get up, though, and simply watches as another plane passes overhead. He hears that deep voice again, and feels a shiver run down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold. “What is it, Jask?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna go home yet, I guess.” He looks at Geralt. “I don’t know why, but it’s really easy to talk with you.”

Geralt smiles. “Same here.”

Jaskier looks up at the sky once more. “I just wanna stay here, in the middle of the road, with you, looking up for heaven together.”

Geralt chuckles, pushing himself to his feet, as Jaskier sits upright. Geralt extends his hand, smiling a bit. “Stop looking up for heaven, waiting to be buried.” Jaskier laughs, reaching out his hand to take Geralt’s.

Their skin touches, for the first time that evening, and his eyes grow wide as memories that aren’t quite his own flood him.

“Love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.” “I’m here to drink alone.”

“Respect doesn’t make history.”

“I need no one, and the last thing I want is someone needing me.” “And yet, here we are.”

“We could head to the coast, get away for a while.”

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

He lets go of Geralt’s hand, falling back on the pavement as he is pulled back to here and now. He looks up, wide-eyed, shocked, and he can tell Geralt just experienced the same thing. Fuck.

The other life. A Witcher, a Bard. Soulmates.

He breathes out, shuddering breath leaving his lungs in fragments, forming small clouds in the cold night air. “Oh.”

Geralt simply stares at him, then at his hand, as if he can’t believe what just happened. Eventually, he nods, lowering himself back onto the pavement, next to Jaskier. “Oh,” he says as well.

Jaskier looks at his own hand, half expecting a mark, something to indicate something’s – everything’s changed, but his skin is the same as always. Really, he’s the same as always, it’s just the memories that are new.

He looks at Geralt, who’s still staring ahead, amber eyes wide. “What happened in the other life, Geralt? How did you-“ his voice catches in his throat as he imagines Geralt dying.

The guy – the Witcher looks at him, eyes still absent. He blinks, then clears his throat. “I uh… After… our fight, on the mountain, I went looking for Ciri, for my…” a sharp intake of breath “Child Surprise. Never found her. Got attacked by ghouls, died a day or so later. You?”

A memory presents itself to Jaskier, and he shudders, burying his hands in the sleeves of his hoodie. “Got robbed a few weeks after our fight. Got stabbed, bled out.”

Geralt frowns at him. “I know we only just met, really, and that we’re not who we were in the other life but… I do want to apologize for what I said on the mountain. I never meant any of it, and travelling with you for…” he frowns, swallowing thickly “twenty-two years, was an honour and a privilege. You deserved better.”

Jaskier smiles. “I did, and thank you, Geralt. It does mean a lot to me, even if it wasn’t really… me, but… other life me? I don’t know, this is so weird.”

Geralt laughs. “It is. I’m glad we’re here, now, though.”

Jaskier leans his shoulder against Geralt’s, something that feels so natural he doesn’t need to think twice about it. “So am I. And I’m glad we’re soulmates.” He frowns. “I’m glad we got a second chance, Geralt.”

Geralt smiles back, softly, fondness in his eyes. “So am I. I really messed up the first time. I want to do better in this life, if you’ll have me.”

Jaskier leans forward, resting his forehead against Geralt’s, the clouds of their breaths intertwining in the cold night air. “I’ll have you, Geralt of Rivia, if you’ll have me.”

Geralt sighs, softly. “Yes, of course I’ll have you, Jask. No question about it.”

Their eyes meet, and Jaskier can barely suppress a shiver that runs down his spine. He’s drowning in the molten gold of Geralt’s eyes, and can’t help but smile. “May I kiss you?”

Geralt leans forward, their noses brushing, hot breath fanning over Jaskier’s skin. “I fear I might die all over again if you don’t.”

Jaskier laughs. “God, Geralt, you’re so dramatic.” He leans forward further, softly pressing his lips against Geralt’s, and he feels a hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer, the kiss deepening.

After a few moments he pulls back, drawing in shaky breaths of cold night air as their foreheads rest against each other. He can’t help but smile as he takes in every little detail of Geralt’s face. The little freckle under his right eye, the small scar on his left eyebrow, the brown freckles in his amber eyes. He hopes he gets the chance to spend the rest of his life memorizing every single detail, every single imperfection that makes Geralt perfect.

Geralt smiles at him, frowning a bit as he sees Jaskier’s searching eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jaskier smiles, before pressing a chaste kiss to Geralt’s lips and he could never, ever tire of this. Not in this life, not in the next. “No reason, I’m just… looking up for heaven.”

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #gerlion #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #triss merigold x yennefer of vengerberg #triss x yennefer #triss merigold #yennefer of vengerberg #mine #oneshot #looking up for heaven

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boldly-ho · 5 years ago

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Another Life - Chapter 18

Fandom: What We Do in the Shadows

Pairing: Vladislav x Reader

Series Rating: E

Chapter Summary: Reader et al play drinking games and some uncomfortable conversation comes out.

A/N: as always, cross posted to AO3. Matt Damon is a real game and it rocks. You can send an ask if the rules aren’t clear. I’m drunk af and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

“No, you’re not listening!” Nick interjected again. “Look, okay, you’ll pick it up as we play. Let’s just start.”

“No, no!” you protested. “Explain it one last time, and I promise I’ll pay attention.”

You, Nick, Stu, and all of your flatmates, including Petyr, sat around the dining room table. Tonight was the night Viago and Nick had arranged for drinking, and drinking games, and general revelry. You, Deacon, and Petyr had started drinking early, just over an hour, ago in preparation for the night, and were already feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Deacon and Petyr were (at least) buzzed on the alcoholic blood they’d had stocked up, while you were well more than a glass deep on a strong red wine you didn’t love, but didn’t hate. At least it blended in and made the glasses of blood look less jarring.

“Pay attention this time.” You nodded emphatically, aware that it was you, Deacon, and Petyr responsible for continually derailing the beginnings of Nick’s drinking game. He, Viago, and Vladislav seemed irritated by your shenanigans. Stu did a valiant job hiding it.

“The game,” Nick began for the third… fourth?... time, “is called Matt Damon.”

“Why Matt Damon?” you asked.

“I don’t know, Y/N.” Both his gaze and his response were pointed, and you realized you’d asked that before.

“Sorry.”

“The game is Matt Damon. I’ll lay 16 cards face up in a four by four pattern. We take turns with the remaining cards in the draw pile, guessing whether the top card of the draw pile is higher or lower than any one of the cards in the four by four. If you lay down the card from on top of the draw pile on the card you choose in the four by four and it’s lower, you drink for the amount of seconds of cards in the four by four pile.”

“What?” Deacon asked.

“Okay, so if I point to this nine,” Nick gestured to one of the 16 cards laying face up on the table, “and guess that the next card in the pile is higher, but it turns out to be an eight or lower, I drink for two seconds. That’s because after I lay my card on top of the nine, there’s two cards there; the nine, and the one I laid down. As the game goes on, more cards are in each pile, and the drinking time goes up. Got it?”

You nodded, but didn’t check to see if anyone else was.

“If I’m right, and my card is higher than the nine, I get to go again. I can either lay on the same pile or any other card, but I have to get three right in a row before I pass the draw pile on for the next person’s turn.”

“What if it is a nine?” you asked.

“If I guess higher than a nine, and it is a nine, then I drink double. So instead of drinking for two seconds, I drink for four, since there’s two cards in the pile, and two times two is four. Following?”

You nodded again.

“Good. Now what makes it so fun is that the ‘seconds’ you drink for aren’t really seconds. They’re counted off for you. So if I had to drink for two ‘seconds,’ it would be counted off by the next two people in line. So Stu’s turn is after mine, so he’d count off the ‘one.’ Viago is after him, so he’d count the ‘two.’ I have to drink until they’re done counting. But!” Nick interrupted himself, “If I finish my drink before they’re done counting, I put my glass on my head, and whoever’s turn it is to count of their number, now has to drink for the amount of ‘seconds’ I was supposed to. After the counting and drinking is done, I’d have to start again, and get three correct guesses before it’s Stu’s turn.”

You felt a bit lost. “Wait, what happens when-“

“It’ll make sense once we get going,” Nick insisted.

Nick began, pointing at the nine he’d used as an example, guessing that the card in his hand should be lower than that. It was a queen.

He brought his glass to his lips, chugging the alcoholic blood while Stu, already familiar with the game, stared him for far too long, as Nick continued to drink, before shouting, “One!”

Viago instantly yelled, “Two!” putting Nick out of his misery.

Nick guessed that his next card would be lower than the queen he just laid down, and was correct. He made two more correct guesses, each on cards from different piles, and passed the draw pile to Stu.

You and Deacon dominated the conversation, enough alcohol in you each to feel at least slightly uninhibited. By the time it was your turn to play, there were some fairly significant piles. Most of the shorter piles were topped with numbers more in the middle of the range, sevens, eights, nines. The higher risk numbers. The tallest pile was topped with a three. Almost guaranteed success.

“Higher than a three,” you announced, flipping over a card and placing it atop the three. It was a two. You groaned.

Nick reached over, picking up the pile and counting the cards before returning it. “Ten cards; ten seconds. Ready?”

You brought your glass up to your lips.

“Count fast!” Stu said before you started drinking. “She’s only got a little wine left.”

Challenge accepted.

You began drinking as fast as you could while Deacon rapidly yelled out, “One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

On to Stu, Viago, Petyr, back to Deacon, then Vladislav, Nick.

“Ten!” Stu shouted just as you finished drinking and brought the glass to the top of your head.

“Ha!” you shouted back. “Ten seconds for you!”

“No way! I finished counting before you got the glass on your head.”

“It was pretty close,” Nick said. “Let’s vote. Those who think Stu should have to drink?”

Your hand, as well as Nick’s and Deacon’s, rose into the air.

“Those who think he finished counting first?”

Vladislav, Viago, Petyr, and Stu raised their hands.

“Stu’s safe.”

“Outrageous,” you complained in mock upset, refilling your glass with wine.

Your next guess was another miss, though you only drank for four seconds that time. However, they may have taken even longer counting it out. After that, though, you got your three in a row and passed the deck on to Deacon.

“So how was your lunch the other day?” Nick asked, looking between you and Stu.

“Uh…” you faltered, though not due entirely to the alcohol. You hadn’t yet mentioned your lunch with Stu, largely due to the topic discussed.

“It was nice,” Stu answered for the both of you. “We went to that café, the one with all the vegetarian options.”

“Oh, yeah. They had some good sandwiches,” Nick said in a statement juxtaposed with his taking another swig from his glass of blood.

“When did you go to lunch?” Viago asked.

You could tell from his tone that he wasn’t prying, just making friendly conversation. It was hardly a crime not to mention your daytime plans to your flatmates who slept through them. Still, you felt caught in a lie.

“Earlier this week,” you answered.

“Pretty rude of you not to invite us,” Vladislav muttered.

For a moment, you felt offended, until you caught the corner of his mustache turning up. He was kidding, of course. Obviously. How on earth were you supposed to invite a hoard of vampires to a café at noon?

“I’m sure you’ll get over it,” you said with a smile.

“Say two,” Stu prompted you.

“What?”

“It’s your turn on the count.”

Looking across the table, you saw Viago gulping down his glass of blood, staring at you in either distress or anger; you couldn’t quite tell.

“Shit! Sorry! Two!”

The rest of the numbers were counted down quickly to make up for your lapse.

“We’re out of cards,” Viago informed the table.

“We can go another round or we can do something else,” Nick offered.

“Could we do something else? I want to migrate over to the couch,” you said. The wooden dining room chairs were wildly uncomfortable, and you desperately wanted to avoid more talk about your lunch with Stu.

“Yeah, sure.”

You stood, holding your glass in one hand and grabbing one of the wine bottles with the other. You stumbled a bit on your way to the living room, before stopping in the doorway to let the dizziness pass. You hadn’t counted how many glasses you’d had, but you do recalling opening at least a second bottle, and only you and Stu were drinking it…

“Careful,” Vladislav gently chided you, easing the bottle and glass from your grip. “Here, take Y/N’s wine,” he directed Viago, handing the bottle and glass to him as he passed. He turned back to you. “Come on, let’s try to get you to the couch in one piece.”

“It’s just right in there!”

“And yet you still manage to turn it into a life or death situation.”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless accepted his help in walking to the couch, leaning against him for support. You suppressed a manic giggle at the entire situation. Upon reaching the couch, Vladislav stood above you, as if supervising, as you lowered yourself onto the cushion beside Deacon. You and Deacon both rested your backs against the arms of the couch, and stretched your legs to the middle, where they tangled into a familiar pile.

“Here Y/N, drink this.” Stu appeared as if from nowhere, offering you a glass of water.

A team effort, then. You must be really drunk.

You accepted the glass and downed the entire contents, despite not being thirsty, before grabbing your glass of wine once again.

“Who’s up for a game of truth or dare?” Nick asked.

Stu groaned. “I hate truth or dare.”

“What about truth or truth?” you suggested.

“Truth or truth?”

“Yeah. It’s all the fun of truth or dare, but better because you don’t have to come up with dares, and you can stay sitting down the whole time instead of getting up to do the dares. We used to play it at sleepovers after realizing that truth or dare was much more effort than it was worth.” It was one of your favorite childhood games, and the last thing you wanted to do when drunk was get up and do some ridiculous dare for someone else’s amusement. You wouldn’t mind asking a room full of immortals some prying questions, though.

“Sure, what the hell,” Nick said. “It’s your game; you go first.”

You scanned the room, deciding on a victim. Finally settled you asked, “Viago. Truth or truth?”

His face twisted in confusion. “What?”

“Truth or truth. Instead of truth or dare. Pick one.”

“Well, the second one, then.”

“No,” you said. “There aren’t actually two questions. You just pick truth. It’s only asked to keep up the rules and make it more like a game. So, Viago, truth or truth?”

“I see. Truth!”

“What is your earliest memory?” It was an interesting question for anyone, let alone someone as old as Viago.

Viago thought for a moment before answering. “I have a few very early memories, and I’m not sure which is first. But there’s one I like most: riding a pony around my father’s estate. It was a sunny day. I remember how coarse the pony’s fur felt in my hand, and the sound of my father’s laughter.” He smiled faintly at the thought. You wondered if he often missed his family.

“That’s lovely Viago. Thank you for sharing it.” He nodded in acknowledgment. “Now it’s your turn.”

“And I can ask any question I want? To anyone? And they have to answer?”

“They have to answer honestly, yes.”

His face split into a wicked grin. “Hmm… Truth or truth…?” He dramatically looked around the room in search of a target. “Nick!”

“Truth.”

“How did it feel being being bitten by a vampire?”

Viago’s grin widened in an almost conspiratorial way. Deacon sat up straighter on the couch. You were fairly certain Petyr rolled his eyes, but Vladislav seemed to perk up. Did they know something you did not? You and Stu met each other’s gaze, both feeling as though you were missing out on an inside joke.

“Uh, it hurt?” Nick hedged.

“You have to be honest!” Deacon said.

“It did hurt! It was horrible!” Nick argued, defending his answer.

“That’s not the whole truth, though,” Vladislav corrected him.

Nick looked around the room, possibly searching for someone to take mercy on him. If that’s what he wanted, he must have wound up disappointed.

“Fine, ok! It felt good! It hurt a lot, at first. But then it felt good. Really good.” Nick took another swig of his alcoholic blood. “You knew that already. You guys are assholes.”

Vladislav let out a warm belly laugh, and you found yourself grinning in response to it. Deacon, Viago, and Petyr joined in the laughter, and you joined in spite of yourself. Nick was embarrassed, but that was the point of truth or truth. Embarrassing your closest friends.

Plus, now you knew that being bitten by a vampire was very pleasurable. You didn’t know what to do with that information, but you filed it under information worth having.

“Whatever,” Nick said. He seemed to be fighting a smile, quickly getting into the spirit of the game. “Deacon, truth or truth?”

“Truth.”

“When did you last have sex?”

You smiled widely, drunkenly waggling your eyebrows to the best of your ability. “Yeah, Deacon, when did you last do the do?”

Vladislav chuckled at your absurd euphemism.

“Last week. I transformed into a dog and had sex.”

Nick laughed, but you raised your glass, clinking it against Deacon’s, and praised him after taking a large gulp of wine, “Go get ‘em, Deacon.”

Stu scrunched up his face in disgust but didn’t say anything, to his credit.

“Okay, Deacon, your turn.”

He didn’t pause at all before turning to you. “Y/N, truth or truth?”

“Truth,” you answered promptly.

“What did you think Vladislav hypnotized you about the other night?”

“Deacon!” Viago scolded him before you could.

“I didn’t think he’d hypnotized me,” you said, giggling slightly from both discomfort and drunkenness. You untangled your legs from Deacon’s.

“Honesty,” Deacon reminded you.

You were hyperaware of everyone’s eyes on you, even without looking around the room.

Careful not to lie, you responded, “He, uh, hypnotized a victim in front of me so that she would be attracted to him, to, uh, want him, is the phrase he used.” You made a point of looking at no one as you said this. How had this happened? Thirty seconds ago you were laughing at Deacon’s bizarre sex life, and now you were living though one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Truth or truth fell far down the list of your favorite games.

“And why is it you think you were hypnotized?” Deacon pressed.

“I- Uh, I…” you struggled, unsure of a proper defense. You didn’t think you weren’t hypnotized! You shouldn’t have mentioned anything the other night.

“That’s technically a different question,” Vladislav said. “She doesn’t have to answer under the rules of the game.”

You weren’t sure if you were grateful for his rescue or indignant of it.

“Fine,” Deacon said. You could hear the smugness in his voice. He’d made the point he’d meant to. “Y/N, your turn.”

“Stu,” you began, fully intent on choosing him next for the game. “I think I need to throw up,” you finished instead.

He rushed to your side as you shakily stood, and then helped you to the bathroom. You prayed your drunkenness would wash away your memories of the evening.

#wwdits #what we do in the shadows #vladislav x reader #vladislav #another life #al fic

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ravenpaw-93 · 5 years ago

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Denial, Self Sabotage, and Acceptance: The Three Stages of Falling in Love with Your Flatmate

3.5k words

Summary:

After forging an unlikely friendship during N.E.W.T year Harry and Draco became inseparable. It only seemed natural they should become flatmates. However, after two years of watching them tiptoe around each other, their friends have had enough and devise a plan to make them realise they're in love.

Harry sat at his and Ron's usual table at The Dragon's Den staring moodily at worn oak tabletop as he waited for Ron to return with their drinks. He looked up as a shot glass and a pint of beer slid in front of him. He immediately downed the shot with a grimace.

"Damn, mate. Rough day?" Ron asked arching an eyebrow as he took his seat on the opposite side of the table.

"You could say that." Harry retorted bitterly, taking a swig of beer. "Flatmate problems."

He and Draco had gotten a flat together after Hogwarts. They'd become close friends during N.E.W.T year and both had taken positions at the Ministry, Harry with the Aurors and Draco the Goblin Liaison Department. They figured they'd probably end up spending so much time together at separate places it just made sense to get a flat together and split expenses. They'd managed to coexist rather peacefully the past two years, until this week.

"What'd Malfoy do this time? Dirty dishes in the sink? Leave your wet clothes in the wash?" Ron snorted rolling his eyes.

"He's got a date." Harry muttered, downing the rest of his beer.

"Oh." Ron replied dully. He took a sip of beer and his eyes widened. "Oh. So we're finally acknowledging that, are we?"

"Acknowledging what?" Harry asked, waving one of the cocktail waitresses over.

"Your three year long massive crush on Malfoy." Ron answered as if it should be obvious.

"Crush? I haven't got a crush on Draco. We're flatmates, we usually hang out on Fridays. He just ditched me last minute, is all." Harry argued before turning to the approaching waitress and ordering more drinks.

"Are you really that fucking thick? Or are you in denial? It's one or the other." Ron snickered. "I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"Neither." Harry said stubbornly.

"Oh, come off it. It's me, you don't have to lie. In fact, I'm insulted that you actually think you could lie to me about this. I'm not bloody stupid." Ron argued, rolling his eyes.

"Thanks." Harry said as more drinks were brought to their table. He downed a shot before continuing. "I don't know what you're on about. I'm not lying."

"Then you are in denial." Ron shrugged, pursing his lips as he watched Harry take another shot. "We've been here less than twenty minutes and you've taken three shots and downed a whole beer. You're too bothered for it to just be Malfoy cancelling movie night or whatever the hell it is you two do."

"I asked you to come out with me to have a good time." Harry sighed. "Can we please talk about something else. Anything else."

"Fine. But sooner or later you're gonna have to face this. Getting pissed and bringing some rando home with you for a quick fuck isn't gonna make the shit go away."

"Who says I'm going to?" Harry rolled his eyes drinking his beer.

Ron stared at him, his 'shut up Harry, I know you' expression fixed on his face. He finished his beer and shook his head exasperatedly.

"Whatever, mate. So, did you get your new trainee today?"

"Yeah. Can't remember his name to save my life though. He seemed decent enough." Harry shrugged, grateful Ron finally dropped the subject. He wanted to forget about Draco and the hollow pit he caused in Harry's stomach.

"Lucky you. Mines an absolute moron. I'll be dead by the end of next week." Ron groaned.

Harry allowed himself to get lost in conversation about the trainees at work with Ron. Laughing at his stories of his idiot trainee, who by the sound of it, barely made it through the academy. He felt the misery he'd been feeling since finding Draco's note after work finally begin to leave him. After a third beer and another round of shots he was feeling rather pleasant. Everyone around him seemed much funnier and, many of them, much prettier than they had when they first arrived. Though, that was probably just the Firewhiskey talking. But in the end Ron was right, he found an attractive bloke willing to accompany him home. He was just tall enough and just blonde enough that, for one night at least, Harry could pretend he was someone else. And afterwards, when the man was gone and Harry was alone in his bed, he tried not to hate himself for it.

***

"Harry?" Draco called as he walked through the door of their shared flat, having just ghosted possibly the worst date he'd ever had. "You home? You wouldn't belie–"

He stopped mid sentence as he entered the main area of their open concept flat. All the lights were off, aside from a table lamp and there was a note on their breakfast bar. He picked it up, frowning at its brevity.

Went to the pub with Ron, don't wait up. -H

Harry's notes were usually paragraphs. He flipped the paper over, but the other side was blank. His frown deepened and he felt an unpleasant sensation in the pit of his stomach. He shrugged it off. Harry probably just left the note at the last minute. And even if he hadn't, it's just a note for Merlin's sake. He didn't have to write Draco a novel every time. He rolled his eyes, annoyed with himself, as he selected a bottle of wine from the rack in the kitchen area. He Floo'd to Pansy's trying to convince himself the slight aching feeling in his heart was residual disappointment from his date and had nothing to do with Harry's uncharacteristically short correspondence.

"Thought you had a date?" Pansy asked in lieu of greeting him as he stepped out of the hearth.

"Hello, nice to see you, too, you harpy. Did I miss something? Is it 'National Shit All Over Draco Day' and no one told me?" He huffed, plopping down dramatically on her sofa.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" She asked, rolling her eyes.

"First off, Blaise set me up on a date with a total barbarian, then you can't even be bothered to say hello like a civilised human and Harr-you know nevermind. I don't want to talk about it. I just want to get wine drunk on your sofa."

"Oh come on, it couldn't have been that bad." Pansy replied, summoning a cork screw and two wine glasses.

"His manners were atrocious. He didn't even tuck his shirt in. He ordered the cheapest wine possible and he laughed like a fucking seal. Clapping and all. I Apparated home from the loo half way through my meal, Pansy. I can assure you, it was horrific." He whinged, filling his glass.

"You hardly gave him a chance." Pansy retorted.

"It wasn't going to work." He replied shortly.

"Of course not." Pansy rolled her eyes. "What were you saying about Potter?"

"I didn't say anything about him." Draco covered his lie by sipping his wine.

"Darling, I love you, but you're a terrible liar."

"Seriously it's nothing. I'm just narked off because my date went badly." Draco wasn't sure if he was saying that to convince Pansy or himself.

Afterall, it was just a stupid note. He couldn't be sure what sort of tone it was intended to be read in. He was the one in a bad mood, so he probably just read it that way because of how he was feeling. He and Harry were fine before work, Draco was just reading too much into it. Pansy merely stared at him, her lips pursed and one eyebrow arched dangerously high.

"It's stupid. The note he left letting me know where he was going to be was just really short. He usually leaves long notes, so in my bad temper I got annoyed over it." Even to himself that sounded feeble.

"You look sad, not annoyed." Pansy pointed out.

"Sad?" Draco asked scathingly. "I am not sad. It was a shitty date yeah, but it wasn't as though I thought I'd found my future husband."

"Well if it's not your bad date it must be the note from Potter and the massive fucking pash you've had on him for years." Pansy countered, smirking over the rim of her glass.

"Me–a pash–Potter?–don't be absurd." Draco coughed, drips of red wine staining his grey trousers. He sincerely hoped Pansy would think the flush creeping up his neck was from nearly choking to death on his wine.

So what if he had a tiny crush on his flatmate? Harry was handsome, kind and funny. Who wouldn't have a crush on him? It wasn't as though Draco had any intention of acting on it. In fact, the whole reason he agreed to the date Blaise arranged was to get his mind off those feelings. Only, the date was a disaster and Draco had spent the entire time thinking Harry would never do this.

"Oh don't even try it, Draco. I've known you since we were two years old. The only person who doesn't know that you love Potter, is Potter. Just how the only person who doesn't know Potter loves you, is you. You're both so fucking stupid it's infuriating." Pansy argued, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Draco gaped at her, floundering for something to say in return.

"You're barking. I think I would know if Harry was in love with me, wouldn't I? And I would certainly know if I was in love with him, which I'm not." Draco replied, taking a large gulp of his wine.

"Like I said, fucking stupid, the both of you. How can you not know? I'm surprised the two of you haven't suffocated in the sexual tension."

"Sexu–What sexual tension?! You've lost your bloody mind."

"No, I haven't. Just think about it." Pansy conceded.

"Whatever, fine, I'll think about it." Draco huffed, finishing off his wine.

And he did. After stumbling into his and Harry's sitting room at one thirty in the morning and making his way to his room he lay in bed considering Pansy's outburst. He racked his brain trying to think of any instance that Harry may have even hinted at having feelings for him, but could think of none. As far as the supposed 'sexual tension' maybe there were a few times when eyes had lingered a bit longer than what could be considered accidental, particularly when joggers were involved. Or they'd leant in just a little too close to each other. But that was normal, wasn't it? Perhaps he would just have to pay closer attention tomorrow when he woke up.

***

Harry heard Draco stumbling down their hallway, swearing under his breath. Once Draco's bedroom door swung closed, Harry opened his eyes and squinted at his alarm clock across the room. One thirty. He tried to ignore the flare of jealousy that surged through him. He had no right to it, given what he'd just done. He had no room to be upset that Draco was just now getting home from his date. But he was. He turned over sharply in his bed and immediately had to fight down a wave of nausea. Great, he thought, just what I need, a fucking hangover to wake up to. He huffed, adjusted his pillow and willed himself to fall back asleep.

His head was pounding when he woke up and he had the worst taste imaginable in his mouth. He groaned as he sat on the edge of his bed, squinting in the sunlight streaming through his open window. He took a hot shower and brushed his teeth before rummaging through the medicine cabinet for hangover potion. He grabbed one of the only two left and gulped it down. The cool soothing effect on his aching temples was instantaneous. A quick fry up and some strong tea would have him feeling much better, or so he told himself as he set to cooking. However, even after finishing his breakfast he still felt miserable. It seemed greasy food and tea had no effect on residual guilt. Harry's sulking was interrupted by Draco walking groggily past, on his way to the kitchen.

"Late night?" Harry asked, in what he'd meant to be a lighthearted manor, though it sounded more accusing than anything.

"Yeah I got wine drunk at Pansy's." Draco answered arching a brow at Harry's tone as he opened a cupboard for a mug.

"Pansy's, right." Harry snorted, he knew it wasn't fair to take his bad mood out on Draco, but he couldn't stop the bitter jealousy. And honestly, who did Draco think he was kidding? Obviously he went home with the bloke, he had every right to do so, but why lie about it?

"Erm, okay?" Draco muttered, shutting the cupboard door roughly."What's your problem?

"No problem, just don't know why you lied about being at Pansy's when I know you were on a date." Harry replied in a clipped tone.

"Why would I lie to you? Especially over something so stupid. I went on my date, he was a complete Neanderthal and I left twenty minutes in. I came home thinking we'd watch a film or something but saw your note don't wait up. So I went to Pansy's." Draco snapped flinging himself into a chair at the breakfast bar.

Well done, Harry, he thought bitterly, You've just made a complete arse of yourself. He gave Draco a few minutes to cool off before speaking again, trying to squash his own guilt.

"I'm sorry. I feel like a shit because I got pissed last night and did something stupid that I regret and I took it out on you. I'm sorry your date was terrible. He doesn't know what he missed out on." Harry mumbled apologetically.

"It's fine. I've got to get ready, I'm supposed to be at my mother's in ten minutes. We'll talk later, yeah?" Draco asked, getting to his feet.

"Sure." Harry said with a nod and with that Draco strode from the room avoiding Harry's eyes.

Merlin, he felt like a tit. He should have just listened to Ron and went home alone. Something about the way Draco had said 'don't wait up' had stuck in Harry's mind. He sounded hurt. Which at the time is what Harry wanted. A selfish part of him wanted Draco to feel as gutted as he did, he regretted that now. Fuck, but he's made a mess of things hasn't he? He was shaken from his thoughts by Ron stumbling out of the Floo.

"You look like shit." He said, taking a seat in the other arm chair.

"I feel like shit." Harry retorted.

"They make potions for that." Ron snorted.

"Oh there's a potion for guilt brought on by a spectacular display of self sabotage?"

"What did you do?" Ron groaned.

"Exactly what you said I'd do. And then because I was angry at myself for it, I picked a fight with Draco."

"Goddamn it, Harry." Ron scolded, putting his face in his hands. "You've ruined everything."

"Well I feel like that's taking it a bit far. I mean yeah I fucked up, but Draco won't stay angry long. He never does." Harry replied defensively.

"No you idiot, Blaise, Pansy, Hermione and I planned this perfectly. Blaise set Draco up on a fake date to make you both wake the fuck up. But now you've gone and thrown a wrench in the whole fucking thing."

"You did what? That's insane!" Harry replied incredulously.

"We had to do something, mate. You two have been driving us barmy for three years. Clearly, you weren't going to figure it out on your own." Ron explained rolling his eyes.

"So on a scale of one to colossal how big of a fuck up was this?" Harry asked nervously, still in a state of disbelief.

"Mega colossal. The whole plan is scrapped. Pansy'll have to come clean with Draco and then so do you. Whatever happens after that is on you."

"Wonderful." Harry grumbled.

"Just be honest. That's literally all you have to do. I'm going to Pansy's to break the news. You've got this. No more self sabotage." Ron said bracingly, stepping back into the hearth.

"I'll do my best." Harry promised.

Ron called out Pansy's address and disappeared into emerald flames. Harry sat and contemplated what he was going to say to Draco. He only hoped Draco wouldn't be too angry with him.

***

His and Harry's tiff had left Draco in a rather foul mood. He sat sullenly through brunch with his parents picking at his food and only half listening to his father drone on about his blasted peacocks. He wasn't used to Harry behaving that way. If anyone started a row for no reason it was usually Draco himself. Halfway through their meal a house elf brought him a letter from Pansy telling him to come by her flat before going home. He suffered through another hour of his parents' company before leaving for Pansy's. She was waiting for him on her sofa looking mildly uncomfortable.

"What?" He asked suspiciously, taking a seat next to her.

"You're going to be angry with me. But just know, I did what I did out of love." She began calmly.

"What did you do?" He asked slightly panicked, he prayed she didn't go and talk to Harry or something equally as stupid. Especially with the way they'd left things this morning.

"Blaise, Weasley, Granger and I may have come up with a plan to send you on a staged date to make you and Potter realise that you're in love with each other." She said quickly.

Draco was certain he didn't hear her properly. No way were they all really stupid enough to think that would actually work.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked dangerously, narrowing his eyes. "You set me up on a fake date?!"

"Well it worked, sort of. Things got a bit fucked up, admittedly, but still."

"It most certainly did not work. We had a row this morning and now we're barely speaking." Draco huffed.

"You absolute idiot, Draco Malfoy. He's jealous that you went on a date with someone that isn't him." Pansy said exasperatedly.

Draco considered her words for a moment. That would certainly explain Harry's behaviour the last two days. Merlin, how did he not see that before?

"Oh." He said in astonishment. "He was jealous."

"Fucking hell, finally you get it!"

"I need to talk to Harry." Draco said getting to his feet.

"Yes, go now. Before you lose your nerve." Pansy said encouragingly.

He clambered into the Floo throwing the powder down as he called out his home address.

"I think we should talk now." He said grinning a little, as he stepped in front of Harry.

"Yeah, we definitely should." Harry agreed with a forced, nervous smile. "Come sit down?"

Draco took a seat on the edge of the sofa next to Harry chewing on his lip nervously.

"I'm sorry about earlier, accusing you of lying. I was jealous just like I was yesterday when I wrote that note before going out with Ron. I did something stupid and impulsive and I feel horrible. But I have to be honest, I understand if you get angry, I'd deserve it." Harry paused and Draco felt as though his heart had stopped beating. "I got pissed and picked up some bloke from the pub and brought him home. I just wanted to stop thinking about you for a while and how miserable I felt that you were out with someone who wasn't me. But it didn't work, the whole time I was with him I wished it was you. I'm not proud of it, but it's true. So when I accused you this morning I was out of line. I'm so sorry, I wish I could just re-do yesterday. I would do everything so differently."

Draco stared at Harry for a moment while he digested everything he had just said. Mostly he felt relieved, overjoyed even, that Pansy had been right. He was a bit disappointed in Harry's way of coping, but it was understandable and Draco didn't intend on holding it against him.

"I mean I'm not pleased to hear that you fucked someone else, but I can't fault you for it. I only went on that stupid, apparently fake, date to try and stop having feelings for you. I'm still upset that you accused me of lying, but I forgive you." Draco replied giving Harry a hopeful smile. "And for the record, I don't want you to date anyone that's not me, either."

"I don't intend to." Harry returned, giving him a crooked grin.

"Good." Draco said leaning in toward Harry.

"Good." Harry murmured as he closed the distance between them.

Draco felt a thrilling swooping sensation in his abdomen as they kissed. Harry's lips were soft and warm against his own as they parted allowing Draco's tongue to slip past and slide delicately against his own. Draco's skin tingled pleasantly as goosepimples erupted over his body. He brought a hand up to tangle in Harry's wild hair, wondering briefly how he'd ever gone a day in his life without kissing Harry like this. He felt as though everything had fallen into place, like everything suddenly made perfect sense. Kissing Harry just felt right, and he couldn't wait to do it every day for the rest of his life.

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry flatmate au #oblivious draco #oblivious harry #i love these idiots #drarry fic

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whatinthenameofsherlock · 5 years ago

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I posted this a while back on wattpad but i forgot to put it here like this. A Johnlock oneshot, enjoy :)

"Just put the seatbelt on for god's sake." I'm annoyed with him, but still smirk at just how much he's willing to do anything to bother me. Things feel a bit weird between us, last night we discussed something I never thought I would live to experience. I've always pushed those thoughts down and thought 'I'll pursue them in another life'. I didn't expect to be telling Sherlock about the way he made me feel, I definitely didn't expect for him to reciprocate.

He shook his head in frustration and reached for the safety belt. We were on our way somewhere, he didn't want to tell me where, I didn't mind not knowing. He was driving, and I was quite content with sitting in the passenger seat, and just letting him drive.

I felt so weird, liberating but weird. I was being true to myself and to him, and that took this weight off my back, but then I also felt like an imposter, like I wasn't myself. In reality the last me wasn't the real me, he felt comfortable, but life isn't about comfort. I of course had no idea what this was like for Sherlock, I didn't think he was capable of having feelings.

After everything with Mary and Rosie, for the longest time i couldn't imagine myself finding another woman to love. Mary wasn't who i thought she was, but damn I loved her, I still do.

Then i thought Sherlock had feelings for Irene, and maybe there's some truth in that.. But in the end it all comes back to Watson and Holmes, and i was done fighting that.

My recent view of the future has been raising Rosie with Sherlock, and then after all, growing old with Sherlock, that is if he doesn't get himself killed by then. He's calmed down a bit when it comes to cases and danger, just a bit, I don't think anyone but me has even noticed. He was fixed on helping me with Rosie, i think he still felt guilty.

Still i just accepted the fate of being alone for the rest of my life, giving up on romance, living with my flatmate. I thought 'if he could do it, why wouldn't I be able to?' but that's not how it works.. I'm obviously not asexual, and not that I'm an expert or anything, but I believe he's not quite so much either.

"Thoughts?"

"Hmm?" we'd been driving for a few minutes now and he decided to break the silence.

"Oh, um, why don't we put on some music?"

"Why? The noise in your head isn't enough?" he smiles, still keeping his eyes on the road.

I just stare at him for a moment, the awkwardness is nothing compared to the feeling of serenity that takes over me at moments like this. He understands me better than anyone else ever has, how stupid would I be to give that up for someone else just because of the body he's in.

There's nothing to say so we just listen to a playlist I made for long drives, in case such an occasion was ever to come up. My mind is filled with events of the previous night, I can't really control it and I don't try to. I lean my head against the window and stare out at the scenery for the rest of the way. We drive for about an hour, I watch as the scenery changes from crowded city streets to deserted paths filled with green. Getting quite sleepy now.

"Come on. John ." the sound of my name falling from his lips wakes me from semi-sleep, and I turn to see we've stopped. The cold air hits my drowsy body as I step out of the car, so I reach for my jacket in the backseat.

"Have you been here before?"

"Once", I walk behind him as he leads me through the forest we've been driving through. "You'll see".

"I'll see what?" just as I speak, the view starts to emerge from above the rocks we've been climbing. He climbs up some steep stone first, and reaches for my hand to pull me up. This is the first time touching his skin felt different. "Oh" my lips part at the astonishing scenery.

"It was a case. I couldn't come to terms with the fact it didn't go as well as I'd hoped it would, and I passed through here so I stopped and took a short walk to clear my mind. It was freezing but the scenery wasn't anything less than worth it."

I hadn't dared taking my eyes off of the trees, the mountains, small secluded houses and curves of nature I was witnessing, all from this glorious, frightening height. It made me feel so big and so miniscule at the same time.

He wasn't looking out though, his eyes were set on me. I felt that and avoided looking at him in return. Foolish, how he made nervous, as if I were back in grade school when I'd noticed this girl I liked was looking back. I furrowed my eyebrows and took in a shaky breath, suddenly there were all these unexpected emotions arising in me, I couldn't understand why. I placed my head in my hands and took a second to steady my thoughts.

I felt a hand on my back and without looking, moved to press myself against his chest. Just like once before, he placed one hand on my neck, the other on my arm, and placed his chin lightly atop my head.

His warmth, his scent, every sensation filled my senses, I realised just how much i'd missed it. Last time, the rhythm of his beating heart calmed me down, now the amount of clothes, due to the frigid temperature, was in the way. I reached my hand out of its pocket to find his, and I pressed my thumb against his skin to feel the pulse. Once I was sure I hadn't been dreaming, he was alive and with me in that moment, I hesitantly laced my fingers with his. His grip tightened, head tilted as his lips got lost somewhere in my hair. It felt surreal, holding his hand.

"I'm here" just as he said that, tears were building in my eyes. Memories of the two torturous years when I thought he was dead, when I was sure I'd lost my soul mate for good, all came back to me.

"Yes you are, aren't you?" he pulled away a bit and I lifted my head to meet his gaze directly. I could feel his breath on my cold face. He let go of the hand he was holding and reached to wipe away the tear that had been traveling down my cheek. Sherlock may not be so experienced in these things, but people underestimate his charm and confidence, he can be romantic if he wants to, probably without even meaning to.

That hand made its way to the back of my head, and I felt so small, with both his hands around my neck, still I felt far out of harms way. The thin distance between us began to dissipate, this force pulling like magnets, but slower, until I finally felt his delicate lips between mine, losing feeling in both my hands. This painstakingly slow kiss, and its rythm, caused my mind to riot. I'd forgotten about the cold and began shaking nevertheless. It was like electricity pumping through my blood, making my heartbeat ecstatic.

It felt light as a feather, as if he was afraid I would shatter if he'd put more pressure. Too soon he pulled away and we beamed at eachother whilst cathching our breath, then again anything would've been too soon. He smiled at me in this way, like nothing was ever wrong in this life, and embraced me again. My hands woke up in time to return the hug this time. I closed my eyes and pulled him closer by his waist.

Can't tell that I didn't still feel a bit weird about this, but all discomfort was easily averted when I reminded myself of whom I was with in this moment, and what it felt like. Home.

It's as if all my life I've had this headache, and it had become so perpetual that I'd stopped noticing it, but standing like this with him, it went away.

I wanted to say I love you, but I didn't, although feeling his lips on my temple made me sure the day I would wasn't too far away.

"Thank you" he spoke.

"For what?" my speech muffled by his clothes.

"For everything that's good in my life."

Yeah, that's better than I love you.

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #johnlock #john watson #Fanfic #sherlock holmes #Story #Oneshot

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male-reads · 6 years ago

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Klaus Hargreeves: Sneak

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Pairing: Klaus x Male!Reader Summary: Klaus can make his own (right) decisions. Most of the time, his siblings don’t think he’s in the right mind to do that. Request: The umbrella academy? Where you're dating Klaus and his siblings don't know that he is dating someone and they find out one day, it doesn't matter how, it could be were they randomly see you in the house with Klaus and think it's one of his old drug dealers or something like that but they explain the he has a boyfriend or maybe Klaus sneaks out of the house to go and hang with the reader and they follow him because he keep sneaking off

TW: mentions of drugs, past addictions.

Klaus didn’t want his other siblings knowing. It was understandable why; they were nosey, rude and presumptuous.

And they sometimes acted like they really didn’t care about Klaus.

“It’s OK,” you said, hand holding the phone to your ear. “If you don’t want to tell them, we won’t. Whatever makes you comfortable, Klaus,”

“How did I manage to find someone like you?” he asked. The fondness in his voice made your heart skip and a smile form on your face.

“Not sure, but I’m glad I have you in my life,”

Klaus laughed softly. It was night and he didn’t want to wake up his other siblings. The only sibling that did know was Ben, and only because he was dead and was more often than not, by Klaus’ side, even if he was invisible because of him being dead. “I have to go. I think Luther wants to have a family meeting tomorrow, first thing,”

“Grim. Good luck with that. You’re free after that, right?”

Klaus made a humming noise of confirmation. “I’m not working tomorrow. Want to come to mine?”

“Diego won’t drive me. He’ll probably think I want to get drugs.”

“Then I’ll drive. I’ve got Jackie’s car keys.”

“Jackie is great.” Jackie was your flatmate. She was totally fine with you being on the queer spectrum - she was a lesbian after all. She often called you and Klaus cuties.

It was nice.

“She is. Is half twelve OK?”

“Any time is OK when it’s you,”

You laughed. “Half twelve. You might be awake enough to function by then. See you later, babe,”

Klaus made a happy noise before saying his goodbyes. You hung up the phone and put it down on the bedside table.

You were standing against your car, outside waiting for Klaus to escape from his siblings. He said he didn’t want you to come in in case Allison or Luther started talking to you or bother you. So you were waiting. And getting a string of messages from him:

[12:29] they suck

[12:26] luther is a furry i stg

[12:33] diego says im not funny bc i said hes a bdsm vigilante

[12:43] vanya accidentally threw luther across the room did u hear it

[12:45] he said im not supposed to leave the house

[12:48] im climbin out the window

[12:49] catch me in case i fall

Sure enough, when you looked up, Klaus was nervously climbing out of a window.

“Don’t fall,” you called up to him. He turned his head to look at you, eyes bright as he grinned.

“Only time I fall is for you,” he said. You couldn’t help the smile on your face, watching him do his best to not fall and break a leg. “This is the seventh time I’ve done this, I’m like a pro.”

He got close enough and then dropped to the ground. He threw his arms up into the air triumphantly. You clapped before moving and going into the driver’s side. Klaus clambered into the passenger’s side, looking so happy to be out of the house.

“Why wouldn’t they let you leave?” you asked as you started the engine.

“Recovering junkie,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve disappointed them before, they think I’ll do it again,”

You frowned. “You’ve been clean for months.You’ve done so well.”

Klaus shrugged, leaning back in the chair. “Can you just drive, please?”

You did as he asked.

Klaus was eating Thai food. He’d complained about being hungry and now you were both eating, sitting in a park. He’d insisted that you were to both sit on the swings.

“Fuck,” Klaus muttered around a mouthful of food. You had been watching him eat, wondering how he could eat so much and still be so skinny.

“What?”

He nodded his head towards the entrance of the park. “They followed us. I guess they finally caught on to me sneaking out,”

“You’re over thirty years old, you shouldn’t have to be sneaking out. Luther looks like he wants to kill us,”

“He usually restricts that look for me, you’re fine.”

You still didn’t like the way they were glaring as they got closer. It seemed only Diego was apprehensive about it. He was probably the only one who liked Klaus.

“Hey guys,” Klaus said. “What brings you out here?” He started to swing back and forth.

“Who’s this?” Luther asked him, pointing to you.

“You can always ask him yourself, that’s called being polite,” Klaus said, shrugging a shoulder.

Luther looked annoyed and looked over at you. “Who are you?”

“Y/N. Don’t see how it’s any of your business though,”

“How do you know our brother?” Allison asked. “Are you his drug dealer?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, totally. No, I’m not. And that’s pretty shitty of you to assume Klaus is gonna relapse.” You glanced over at Klaus.

He didn’t want to tell them, but they probably wouldn’t believe him otherwise. “Y/N’s my boyfriend. I’ve been clean about two months longer than we’ve been together.” Klaus smiled, but you could see the slight fear in his expression. He kept glancing over to Diego, like he was the safety net he had in his family.

“You’re ... gay?” Luther asked slowly.

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a bad thing,” you said.

“Besides, I’m actually pan,” Klaus said, nodding his head a little.

Diego stepped over to your side. At least one sibling trusted you both. “Luther, he’s been looking better each month. You really think he’s gonna relapse now? Have a little faith.”

You pointed at Diego, nodding. “He gets it, why can’t you?”

“You’re not a dealer?” Luther asked.

You rolled your eyes and looked over at Klaus. “Your brother usually this stupid?”

Klaus shrugged. “Most times,”

You looked back at Luther. “I’m not. Now can you leave?”

Luther ignored you. “Why did you sneak out?” he asked Klaus. “You keep sneaking out like that, we’re gonna assume you’re off to get high,”

Klaus looked away.

“Listen, you freaky furry,” you said. No-one got to upset Klaus, siblings or not. “He’s a grown man, he’s done way better than you give him credit for. You still treat him like he’s unable to do the simplest of things. Hell, you don’t let him leave the house without him giving you all the details as to what he’s gonna do. If it were any of you, it’d be totally different, but it’s Klaus, so you think the ex-junkie is gonna fuck up somehow. Real positive you guys are.”

Diego had been mostly silent the entire time. “Luther, they’re not hurting each other. Ever think we were the ones fucking Klaus over? If he’s managed to get someone like Y/N, who looks ready to physically fight you, maybe he’s doing well. And we’re putting him down.”

“Diego gets it,” Klaus said, but his happy demeanour had gone.

Allision looked slightly sorry. “C’mon guys, lets leave Klaus and Y/N alone.” She grabbed Luther’s arm and pulled him away.

“Hey, bro,” Diego said. Klaus looked over at him. “You’re doing well. You know I’m here if you need to talk. Or gush about your boyfriend,”

Klaus nodded, smiling slightly. “Bye, bi.” Diego rolled his eyes but left you both to your own devices.

You got up and moved behind Klaus, arms going around him, head resting against his. “That wasn’t as horrible as it could have gone,” you said quietly. “At least Diego’s by your side,”

“Diego’s pretty much the only one who’s chill. Aside from Ben,” Klaus paused, looking into the space where Ben was. You wished you could see him. “Ben says he wanted you to fight Luther. He’d bet for you.”

“Hella. I will fight that big ol’ furry any day for you.” Klaus smiled, then shifted slightly so he could kiss you.

“You’re the best.”

“Only for you.”

#klaus hargreeves #Klaus x reader #Klaus x male reader #the umbrella academy #Klaus hargreeves x reader #Klaus hargreeves x male reader #tua #tua fic #fic #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #past drug addiction #he's clean babey #x reader #x male reader #male readers #male-reads writes

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miathecinnabunny · 5 years ago

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Apartment 42 -- A BuckyNat AU

Master and rival assassins unknowingly live together for almost a year, making sure their real jobs remain a secret from each other and everyone around them.

Chapter 1

The young woman raked her eyes over the money in the briefcase and smiled. "Beautiful," she murmured.

"Well, it was a beautiful assassination."

The man across her was faceless, but she didn't find anything odd about it. She simply smiled at him. "A pleasure doing business with you."

"Likewise. I shall spread word of the Black Widow. Someone ought to require your services."

Her smile grew. "That would be wonderful."

"Although, I'd hide that pistol a little better. We wouldn't want anyone accusing you of going--" BANG!!

The sound continued three, four more times. She thought he was saying the word, but it sounded like something was pounding a fist against a door.

Again, BANG - BANG - BANG!!

She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she was staring up at an off-white ceiling through red lines. The banging was coming from the front door. Grumbling and groaning, she rolled out of her bed and into the hallway, nearly falling into the other - empty - room.

BANG - BANG - BANG!!

"I'm coming!" she yelled as she stumbled into the adjoined kitchen, dining, and living room, tripping over a shoe as she reached out for the key on the table.

Muttering curses under her breath, she undid the latches and jammed the key into the door.

"Have you got my rent?" her landlord asked.

"Not yet," she grumbled, thinking about the money she had received in her dream.

"Then you get a new flatmate. Work out the rent between yourselves and if he decides to kick you out for not paying your share, I won't stop him. Enjoy the rest of your day."

As he turned and left, she stuck her middle finger up and twisted her expression. She quickly fixed her appearance -- as best as she could in the large sweatpants and camisole, with her hair in knots wilder than the vines outside the apartment block -- when she noticed the young man with a bag over his shoulder and gave him a smile. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Tallie," she said, sticking her left hand out for him to shake.

"James," he replied before reaching out to shake her hand.

She frowned at their clasped hands. Something about his felt off, awkward. Like it wasn't quite human. She'd shaken the hands of manual labourers before and even they had softer hands.

"It's a prosthetic," he whispered, amused.

Her eyes flew open and her jaw dropped. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't m--"

"It's okay. So . . . can I come in?"

She suddenly remembered what a mess she'd made of the apartment. "How about I buy you breakfast and you give me two hours to clean up?" she asked with a hopeful smile.

"If you tell me what Tallie is short for, I'll give your four hours."

She thought about it. She could do with the extra time. "Natalia," she said, "but no one ever calls me Natalia."

"Cute," he said with a grin, turning to leave. "I'll be back later with my stuff . . . Natalia."

She watched him leave, whistling a tune as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Oh, how she wished someone would pay her to kill the landlord.

Going into a spring-clean frenzy, Natalia zipped through the apartment, hiding it all. She removed the weapons from the spare room and found places to hide them in her own room. She raided the kitchen cabinets and made sure there were no traces of the chemicals she used to make poisons and their antidotes. She slipped on the tiles in the bathroom as she scrambled to make the first-aid kit look less like a disaster kit and more like your average home kit.

When the four hours were up, she was sweating and breathing heavily, but the apartment looked clean, tidy and most importantly, as if there were no assassins living in it. The ringing doorbell made her jump -- and she hated that she'd been startled by it.

Taking a deep breath and pushing the escaped strands of hair back, she opened the door. "Hi."

"Hi," James said. "Is it safe to come in now?"

"Mhm. I'd just suggest a bedsheets change before you sleep. Unless you don't mind using mine? They smell like lavender."

"Lavender," he said, nodding as he closed the door behind him, "I guess I'll tolerate it."

"Ha," she laughed nervously. "This is your key. Uh, bedrooms are down the hall, bathroom right at the end. This is the kitchen, dining room and living room. It's small but . . . livable."

Natalia didn't actually know if the apartment was livable or not. She barely spent more than three nights at a time in the apartment. More often than not, she was on stakeouts, waiting to hear for a job, or actually on a job. She hadn't received one for a while now and her dreams were beginning to manifest her raw desire for even a simple job.

No job meant no money. No money meant no rent. She was beginning to accept that she might need a day job.

"It's . . . very clean. Is -- is the toaster sparkling?"

"Well, it's May first. About damn time I did spring cleaning anyway. Uhh, why don't you get settled and I'll get to work on dinner?"

"It's four thirty."

"I can't cook very well."

James nodded. "Right. Well, I will . . . be back out in a while."

Natalia smiled as he disappeared into the hallway. Once he was gone, she allowed her terror to take hold of her features.

How the hell was she going to convince him she lived a normal life -- and that she lived in the apartment?

Damn that landlord.

///////////////

"NO! YOU'LL START A --"

James sighed helplessly as the pan caught fire and Natalia screamed.

"-- fire," he finished lamely.

"I'm done. I can't do this. I'm ordering food."

James raised his eyebrows. "Or you could let me try for once. I've been here one week and you've tried to poison me with burnt pancakes, raw chicken, expired milk, undercooked eggs, dead vegetables, and now you've somehow managed to set fire to the oil. Just . . . go watch the news or something. I'll call you in fifteen minutes."

Sighing, Natalia stalked off, angrily turning the TV on. How hard could it be to pretend to be normal? Was it supposed to be this difficult to learn how to cook? Was she supposed to be this terrible at learning?

Most importantly, how long would this charade need to go on for before she could start sneaking out again?

Surprisingly, exactly fifteen minutes later, James called her name. Switching the TV off, she got up and walked over to him. "Yeah?"

"Taste this," he said, shoving a spoon in her mouth and turning back to the pot.

She glared daggers at his back as she pulled the spoon out of her mouth, but she could not hold the glare. The soup was divine.

"It's not bad," she grumbled.

"Not had?" James asked, laughing, "it's the best thing in this whole country!"

"I doubt that," Natalia argued, leaning around James for another spoonful of the hot soup, "I mean, REO Speedwagon's Can't Fight This Feeling? Dirty Dancing? Lionel Richie's Hello? Soup is not on that list."

"You're a romantic, huh?" James asked, leaving the soup in Natalia's hands as he went to set the table.

"Am not," Natalia scoffed before taking another two spoonfuls of the soup.

"Hey, you better leave some of that for me."

"Make your own damn soup," she muttered, leaning over the pot.

"I did!"

"It's mine now."

"You are unbelievable, Natalia! Move over."

"No, I want more. It's tasty."

"You'll get more in a minute. Go get the cola I bought yesterday and put it on the table."

"But the soup--!"

Natalia blinked and stilled sharply at the look James gave her. It wasn't the stern, parent-like glares he'd been giving her everytime she screwed up at the stove. It was cold, harsh, demanding. She couldn't tear her eyes away, but she knew she had to do as he said. Who knew what would follow?

When he finally turned away, it was as if someone had lifted a concrete slab off her chest. Quickly, she walked to the fridge.

Natalia never realised it was the same look she gave the mirror on the nights when she prepared for a job.

"So," she said once they sat down at the table, "where'd you learn to cook like this?"

"Home," he responded, "my sisters loved it. Sometimes I learned new recipes to impress them."

"That's sweet. Are you the eldest?"

"Mhm. What about you? Siblings?"

Natalia shook her head. "Just me."

"Friends?"

Natalia shrugged. "Not really. I actually--"

Natalia's phone lit up. James noticed that it was a private number. He waited patiently as she answered the phone, mouthing apologies whenever she wasn't speaking.

"Yes, what time? . . . Now?! I -- okay. Where? . . . Right, I'll be there in ten."

"Work?" James asked when she put the phone down on the table and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, James. You made all this and --"

"I'll keep some in the microwave for you."

"I'm really sorry, James."

"It's all right. See you in the morning?"

"Yes. I'll be back by then," she said, getting up. He waved to her as she passed by on her way to the front door. No sooner had she gone out, did his phone ring.

He didn't even greet.

"We have a job for you. Central Park, thirty minutes."

"Yes, sir. I'll be there."

"Is that a problem for you, Soldier?"

Grabbing his jacket and his emergency bag, James left the apartment.

///////////////

"Howard Stark? You want me to take Howard Stark out?"

"Is that a problem for you, Soldier?"

"Uh, yes! The man's reportedly been considering hiring an assassin for a bodyguard! You know what assassins are like!"

"So do you. That is why this job is yours."

"But. . . fine."

The aged Russian smiled as he watched his obedient soldier shrug his dark jacket and shirt off. "It's good you accepted, Soldier."

"Not like I had a choice," James grumbled, peeling the old photostatic veil off his arm. "Sir," he added in a mocking tone.

Vasily Karpov was not a man to be trifled with and for a long time, James did fear Karpov's wrath. Once he learned of his own importance to Karpov, James developed an attitude no other would be allowed to to show to Karpov. Still, he didn't push often. As important as he was, there were gaps in his memory that made him wonder what his punishment had been. Having spent no less than a minute being as rude as he liked, James took the uniform silently and held still as the mask was fixed to his head for alterations.

"Do not disappoint, Soldier. The longer you spend around that civilian, the worse you will get at your job . . . and you know what happens to soldiers that do not perform well. Do not make me use the triggers on you."

"Yes, sir," James said firmly, accepting the new photostatic veil from Karpov.

///////////////

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat that?"

"You are assigned to Howard Stark. Am I right in assuming you do know who he is?"

"Right, but you don't want me to take him out?"

"Ms Romanova, we will give you twice your usual payment to complete this mission."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why I've been assigned this mission. I'm an assassin. I don't look after people, I kill them."

"Howard Stark believes himself to be a target. We believe he is a target to Hydra."

"Hydra . . . they'd most likely sent the Winter Soldier after him . . . that's why you're assigning me to protect Stark, aren't you? I'm the only one who's gone up against the soldier and survived."

"You understand the severity of your mission, then, Romanova? This is no side job, no small assassination you're paid for on the black market. This is your test, your proof of your versatility. Proof that the Red Room breeds perfection, not mere killers. Do not fail us, Natalia."

Natalia shuddered. Hearing her first name fall from the lips of Vladimira Barkova -- a woman all students, Natalia included, referred to as Madame B -- always sent shivers up her spine. Madame B never meant it with warmth or care. Using a Red Room student's first name was Madame B's method of letting them know she expected nothing less than perfect.

Natalia was hesitant. How could she protect someone when she had been raised to do the opposite? Why did Madame B want to protect Howard Stark anyway? What did he have that they needed? Still, all her uncertainties meant naught.

"Will I need to be within a certain distance from him at all times?"

"Not always," Madame B said, shaking her head. "You will report to his home every morning and remain where you can see him until he returns to his home. Distance is of no consequence, though I don't see how you can protect him if you're not near enough. You will be given access and control over the security at the manor. Though his wife and son are not part of this arrangement and may come and go as they please, if their security ensures Howard Stark's security, then their security is your responsibility. If he wants to leave the manor at midnight, you will be awake and alert to escort him wherever he wishes to go. The manner with which you approach this task is up to you. But fail, and you will become a lesson."

Natalia nodded. "Understood, Madame."

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#apartment 42 #fanfiction #marvel #au #90s #buckynat #tony stark #peggy carter #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff

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