must have forgotten about it

anonymous asked:

can you please do a BTS reaction to after a one night stand you start getting dressed, they're afraid you're leaving, but you say "I'm gonna get a slushie, 'cuz I'm hot and thirsty, want one? Or food? Anything? I wanna treat you right." (My friend did this and the girl she was with cried bc she was so sweet)

sorry for having you wait this long (but i’m sure you must have forgotten about this already so). this is so cute!! thanks for dropping this in my asks!


You let out a small sigh of relief as you finally succeeded in safely navigating the huge apartment and spot your shoes (and the door, because you remember nearly nothing of last night) lying by the front door. you bite your lip as you tiptoe towards them and push a foot into one shoe, wondering whether you were using your thirst as an excuse to sneak away before your absolutely gorgeous one night stand wakes up and has to face the horror that was your morning face (or any face for that matter).

But no. You dismiss the thought with a shake of your head as you slip on the other shoe.You were a responsible person, therefore you would take responsibility for last night’s actions  (as much as you can’t seem to remember them), however awkward they may be.

Of course, it helps that the man you slept with looks like he should be on the cover of every fashion magazine ever published.

Deep in your thoughts, you do not notice the very same man when he pads towards you, half asleep but still concerned.

“Are you trying to sneak away?”

You swore as you jumped, your heart threatening to burst out your chest as his sudden appearance nearly takes the piss out of you. And of course, being you, it was only mandatory that your leap of fear would result in you tripping over your own shows and falling on your own face while your hot one night stand watches in horror.

The man jogs over and crouches, wincing at your whimpers of pain. “Are you alright? I must have scared you. Do you…–”

The rest of his words fade away as you take notice –really take notice– of his face. Memories of kind, understanding eyes and laughter from those lips float up through the haze that your memory has become.

He’s even more beautiful up close, and his gentle hands at your ankle only helped with that newly founded observation of yours.

“–…You seem a bit dazed. I didn’t see it, but did you hit your head? Oh no, do you need a doctor?” He sits back on his heels, worried. “Maybe I should call for an ambulance–”

“No!” You mentally smack yourself in the face in embarrassment. “I just need to…” Trying to remember what you needed through the enraptured haze of having him this close, your desperate gaze falls on your shoes.

The man’s eyes follow yours, and the corners of his mouth droop. “Oh. I’m guessing you don’t want to stay for too long.” He sighs, and moves backwards with the intention of straightening up. “Let me at least call you a cab. ”

“No.” You reach out and grab a wrist, shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t trying to sneak away…Jin.” Your heart thuds as you recollect his name suddenly. “I had a hangover and figured you’d have one too, so I thought I’d–” You squint at Jin’s face. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jin’s slight smile turns into a look of horror. “No! I was just glad. Glad you’re not leaving, I mean. And also because… ” He pursed his lips against another smile and looked down at his hands. “It’s the first time someone’s wanted to do something nice for me and not the other way around.”

He looks up and smiles even brighter when he sees you blushing. “The coffee downstairs is horrible and way too expensive. Maybe I can make you some?”


You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and trying to your best to be quiet, slowly unzip the hoodie that you’d found somewhere on the floor and decided to pull on. The slight scent of the coffee you’d bought from the convenience store downstairs wafted through the air, tempting your nose.

You didn’t know (or remember) much about the man you apparently had an (amazing) one-night stand with,  but of one thing you were sure: boy, was he a deep sleeper.

  You were sure he’d wake up the moment you started a racket (hey, you just weren’t a very coordinated person, okay?) trying to figure a way out of the comfy (and bachelor-seeming, thank god) apartment.

You shrug the hoodie off one shoulder and was about to take it off completely, when a surprisingly deep voice you only remembered in snatches from last night interrupts you.

The man props himself up on one elbow. “Are you leaving?”

You turn and face the good looking (very good looking, now that you see him better) man, ready to explain, but he sighs before you get a chance. “I guess you were.” He flopped onto his back again. “And after all that, here I was, thinking we had a connection. Turns out all I have is a hangover.”

You bite a smile back at his dry sarcasm, recalling that it was this very quality of his that had attracted you to him in the very first place. You take the rest of the hoodie off and let it drop to the floor before plopping onto the bed next to him. You grin as he raises an eyebrow.

“Figured as much. That’s why I went downstairs to get us coffee. Believe me, the way you were passed out, I could have left five times and you wouldn’t have noticed.

He stares at you. Then he looks away again, gracing the ceiling with a reluctant but still beautiful gummy smile. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” You grin too and cross your ankles, turning your head to stare at the ceiling in something similar to subdued contentment. “Guess we do have a connection after all.”


It’s not every day you wake up to a man as beautiful as Jung Hoseok, so the moment you open your eyes and take in the simply ethereal being in front of you, you thank whichever god or fate that had made you choose the very bar you met him in last night.
It was just the way the lazy morning light straining through the curtains played across the angles of this man’s face, or the way the hair that (very artistically) fell across his forehead exuded a slight mischievousness that took your very breath away.

From you place on the (ramshackle) bed, you avert your eyes and try to calm yourself down. You wish you could find something to drink, partly to cool the heat suddenly rising to your neck and partly to distract yourself from the snatched recollections of last night.

Water. I need a nice clear glass of ice water. But where?

You bite your lip and slowly prepare to edge yourself out the bed; just when a warm hand wraps itself around your arm, quickly travelling from your wrist to your upper arm. You look down to see Hoseok slowly blinking the sleep out his eyes. “Hey. Don’t leave.” He stretched, dispelling the last of the sleep in his system, slowly focussing on you as his thumb caressed slow circles into your skin. You try to pretend that this doesn’t affect you way more than what is considered healthy for a human heart, and let your head drop back onto a pillow with a floof. Hoseok smiles contently and dropped his hand to yours, firmly intertwining your fingers. “Thanks for not leaving. I meant what I said last night, ____.”

You smile and close your eyes at the memory, something you had dismissed as a whisper in a heated moment.  “I wasn’t going to leave. I just needed a glass of water.“ Hoseok smiles even wider at that and pulls you closer, the innocent gesture a wild contrast from what had transpired last night.

"I’m glad to hear that.”

You laugh. “Okay, but I still need that glass of water. Do you need something, Hoseok?”

He shakes his head, placing a kiss on a mark he himself had left on your shoulder the previous night, then tucks his head into the crook of his neck, the slight smile on his lips shaping themselves across your skin. “Everything I need right now is lying next to me already.”


Jeez, he’s beautiful.

You bite your lip and marvel at the way the sunshine played across the small dips and divots of the muscles in his arms and back. The tan skin that stretched across them seemed to have a glow of its own, a nice golden that reminded you of how heated last night was.

You suck in a breath. Last night. How on earth did you manage to find him?

You place your hands on your hips and swallow, realizing how parched your throat was. Maybe you should find a drink, something to get you ready for the difficult conversation you would have to face once the gorgeous man in the bed woke up.

You snatch your shirt off the back of a chair and slip your arms through it, thinking off what to say when he did wake up. Your mind remains blank, staunchly protesting against its excersise in the absence of coffee.

Sigh. Maybe I’ll just have to wing–

“Uh. ____, isn’t it?”

Shit. You swivel, the neck of the shirt still around your face. “Yeah…uh, Namjoon.”

His eyebrows raise when you remember his name correctly, a smile slowly taking residence over his lips and coaxing dimples out. Crap, he’s cute.

“Yeah.” He blinked at the awkward way you half-wore your shirt. “Do you need help with that?”

Blood rose to your cheeks, embarrassment quickly replacing your admiration of his cute nose. “Uh, no.” You pulled the shirt fully over your head, still flushing, and look around for your shoes. “Now, if I could just find shorts I’d be all–”

Namjoon looks up at you in middle of poking a (toned) leg out of bed. “You’re leaving?”

You pull a shoe out from under the bed and sit back on your heels to meet his eyes, blowing a strand of hair from your eyes. “Yeah, I just–”

Namjoon leaned forward, panic in his eyes. “_____, I know I might be a bit too forward in saying this, but if I didn’t, I’d never forgive myself.” He pulled his pants on and stood up, giving up on buttoning them in his haste. He raised his firm, bony hands in a helpless gesture. “Last night… was amazing. You were amazing. It isn’t just about the sex, but we clicked in a way I can’t explain.” He ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up in frustration. He was a (beautiful) sight, all shirtless, lean frame and unbuttoned dress pants, like a rugged Greek god.

“I know people say one night stands are no strings attached, that commitment has no place in it. But, ____, I for one, don’t want this to stop here. Let’s grab some breakfast and talk this out.” He raised earnest eyes to where you kneeled next to the bed, a shoe in one hand. “Don’t leave,  _____. Please?”

You gulped, and slowly stood up. “Namjoon.” You set the shoe down. “I was leaving to get some water from the kitchen.” You watch as realization, following embarrassment, blooms on his face. “Um, do you– do you want some coffee? With me?”


“You’re very quiet outside the bedroom.” You jumped nearly a foot in the air. Clutching at your heart, you turn to face Park Jimin, standing in the doorway to his bedroom, watching you struggle to tiptoe across the apartment floor.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m not a very deep sleeper, but you still managed to get this far without waking me up. Which is quite a surprise to me, since you were quite loud last night, _______.”

He remembers your name. Jimin remembers your name! “You weren’t so bad yourself, Jimin.”

He grins, perfect teeth catching at his lower lip. The smile transforms his face completely, turning him from a debonair one night standee to cute the-boy-next-door. “Touchè.” He ruffled his hair, and you smile at his cockiness. “We both were pretty loud last night, and a noise complaint from my neighbours is soon expected. But it doesn’t matter, since last night was great, as we told each other throught the course of it.” The smile dropped as he folded his arms, a small wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “So why leave?”

Your grin falls from your face too when you hear his words. What? “Jimin, I’m not leaving. I mean, I’m not leaving, leaving.” You hold your wallet up. “I wanted to get some coffee for us, or something to eat from the deli I saw downstairs last night.” You bite your lip, slightly pleased (just a bit) at how upset Jimin has seemed when he thought you were leaving.

He raised hopeful eyes towards you, your heart already fluttering. “You’re not leaving?”

“Why would I?”

“You don’t have to jump from the window to make your escape. There’s a perfectly functional elevator in the building, and I’m not going to hold you hostage if you want to leave.”

You raise your eyebrows and turn away from the glass of the window, tearing your eyes away from the street below to the boy in the bed.

Still breathtaking, even as he knuckled his own head through a mass of bed hair and squinted at the light pouring in through the window. “The window’s too high anyway.” He said matter of factly.  You realize that he’s not even trying to be rude, Kim Taehyung was just the kind of man to speak his mind however he wanted to in that deep, sensual voice of his. “If you try that route, and break a few legs, I’ll need to take you to the hospital, and you’ll have to spend even more time with me.” He grinned and leaned back on his hands, lean muscles moving beneath the smooth tan skin.

You leaned against the windowsill, matching grin for grin. “Who said that would be a problem? Granted, I’d like to spend more time with you with both my legs intact, but as long as there’s more time, am I right?”

His grin grows wider. “Right.” He leans forward, and locks his hands in his lap. “So you don’t want to leave?”

You shook your head and resumed looking out the window, scanning the street below for what you wanted. “All I want right now is to buy some tteokboki from that vendor I saw hanging around last night, because I’m famished. That’s why I was looking out of the window, to see if I could spot my deliverer of glorious morning snacks.” You grin and bring your finger to the glass. “Speak of the devil.”  You smile as you feel strong arms go around your waist, a chaste kiss that was insignificant compared to last night being pressed to your neck. “Would you be interested in making a purchase with me?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”


Ohgodohgodohgodohgod. How old is he?

You winced at the thought of him being too young. His muscles said otherwise, but his peaceful sleeping face and the small pucker of his (beautifu– ______!) lips told a whole different story.

You let out a small huff of breath and began looking around for your clothes. Be rational, ______. You’re not stupid. You would have known what you were getting into last night. Right? You raise your head too fast, almost throwing out your neck in the panic of considering the possibility that you hadn’t known what you were getting into last night. But you had right?

Your mind was too scrambled, too unorganised to think properly. It was too early, anyway, and the hangover that stood at the threshold of your senses mocked you further.

Coffee. That’s it. You pull your shirt on and straighten up, determined to find the kitchen and get some coffee on. Coffee for two, yeah. Maybe you and Jungkook could talk this over and clear stuff up. Maybe the two of you could even–

“No! Not until you know for sure!”, you reprimand yourself.

“Not until I know what for sure?”

You muffled a scream and whipped around, further startling Jungkook who was already doing a pretty good imitation of a bunny caught in the headlights. “Shit! You scared me!”

“Well– you scared me.”

You place your hands on your hips and concentrate on your breathing.

“Are you alright?”

Gosh, he’s cute– _____! “Hey, would you mind telling me how old you are?”

Jungkook folded his arms, a corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. “Ah. I’m past the legal age, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“You get asked that a lot?”

“Not much. I’m usually not the type to have one night stands.”

Your heart plummets to the bottom of your boots. “Oh. Are you- are you upset? That we did this?”

He played with the fingers of his hands. “Funnily enough, no.” He cocks his head. You observe that he’s very cute with a clear conscience for the first time. “Are you?”

You shook your head, a little breathless. “No.”

“Then why are you leaving?”

“I wasn’t–” You look down at your half dressed state, the perfect picture of a one night standee that didn’t have the guts to stay around. “I wasn’t leaving.  I just needed some coffee to wake me up, so I was dressing to go check out your kitchen.” You offered Jungkook a tenative smile. “I want to stay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just for the coffee. And you, of course. I mean, if you–”

He grinned genuinely, and you realized he was fully beautiful, not just simply cute. “Okay. In that case, I shouldn’t give you these.” He shook a pair of jeans in his right hand. “If we’re staying in, then you’d look cuter without them, just like you do right now.”

why do I write so much?

also why do i write everything down on paper and realize at the last moment that i havent actually typed it all up?


p.s. if anyone of you are the ones requesting for english music from our boys: stop. you stan a kpop group. let them kpop.

School Days Pt. 5 (Losers Club/Reader)

Originally posted by to-obsessed

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

(A/N: Also very Stan/Reader leaning in this part. It be like that sometimes. If this sucks it’s because I suck, actually. I’d rather die than proofread this so come eat the hell)

Summary: The Losers Club meets the reader and Stan at his house for an emergency meeting.

Keep reading


Pairing: Shawn Mendes X Female Reader

Requested: yes | Hey! Could you do an angsty one where you faint while fighting with him because you haven’t eaten anything since morning? He gets all sad and takes care of you?
Word count: 1,070?

Warnings: BAAAD WRITING I also did this in like a half of an hour so this sucks and its unedited.

You sat in the living room watching one of your favorite shows while scrolling through your different social medias. By now your boyfriend, Shawn, would have come home by now and you two would have either eaten some dinner or have cuddled on the couch for a while.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

could I have some hcs for ma boys Jesse, Jack, Gabe and Hanzo taking care of an injured or sick reader? like reader really wants to go out again but they haven't fully recovered yet? (I know this is basic af but I'm a sucker for these)

No worries, dear Anon, we are suckers for this kind of requests too, we won’t judge! xD 


  • You got sick with a bad case of a cold that refused to go away and had been bothering you for almost two weeks now. Knowing how highly contagious a cold tends to be, you told Jesse to stay as far away from you as physically possible; he had various tasks to take care of and couldn’t allow himself to get sick because of an impending mission. Did that stop him? No. Could he care any less? No.
  • He desperately wanted to take care of you and refused to leave your side for more than a few minutes at a time even though you kept reassuring him that it was a simple cold that should be gone within the next few days. He wouldn’t have any of it; to him, this illness could have put your life at stake. He made sure that you got the best treatment possible, he also took off his serape and wrapped it around you to make sure you wouldn’t get too cold (though you had already been wrapped in roughly three blankets).
  • This man needs a lot of affection and you soon realized that a cold didn’t stop him from claiming it. You tried to tell him to stay away from you but he kept going in for kisses and cuddles, not caring that he risked his own health in the process. 
  • He even risked getting into a huge argument with Gabe by not showing up to training a few times and instead preparing some soup for you. It just proved how dedicated he is.
    (Gabe would have given him some time off, he’s not that heartless, but since Jesse never actually asked, the cowboy had to prepare for a lot of extra work.) 
  • Since lying in bed all day got boring quickly, you decided to leave your room and at least get some kind of snack even though you still felt like you were about to faint at any moment. You prayed that you wouldn’t run into your boyfriend but, of course, destiny always brought you two together. He seemed a little shocked to see you out of bed, walking around tiredly and grabbing the kitchen counter for support.
    “This ain’t yer bed, sugar. I could have brought ya that cereal bar, ya know?”
    He quickly led you back to your room and made sure you didn’t leave that mattress for the next few hours, at least not without his aid.
  • Remember how you told him not to get too close to you? Guess who got sick the day you fully recovered. You’ll be passing that cold back and forth for ages if you don’t keep him away! 


  • He truly wanted to help you when you got sick with the stomach flu, honestly, but this man was just so extremely busy due to his position. The least he tried to do was send others, preferably Ana, to frequently check up on you. He also called a lot to make sure you were resting properly and send some words of comfort. 
  • When he noticed your condition slightly worsening, he immediately canceled as many meetings as he possibly could to be with you more, he started to worry too much and wouldn’t have been able to concentrate properly anyway. Jack took some of his paperwork with him to finish it in your room to keep you company and let Gabe and Ana handle training the new recruits. Of course, he wasn’t able to spend all his time by your side but he tried his hardest to pass as much of his work as possible to others. 
  • Though he craved affection and attention as much as Jesse did, he knew how important it was that he didn’t get sick; the strike commander being away for even a few days might have resulted in a disaster. He did give you a comforting pat on the back once in a while, but sadly, he wouldn’t get any closer than that. Hugs and kisses would have been pretty problematic with the stomach flu anyway. 
  • His mom taught him how to help with stomach problems by using some home remedies. He got you some snacks that didn’t cause your stomach too much discomfort and made sure you always drank enough.
  • He always held your hair back for you if it got in your way whenever your stomach rioted and you came face to face with the toilet bowl.
  • Of course, the stomach flu had hit you right before a mission that you had been looking forward to for ages. You might have been able to recover until it started but you still missed out on a significant amount of training. So you tried making your way over to the training facility without running into him but in the end, you did bump right into Jack when rounding a corner in one of the many hallways. He looked at you in confusion for a few seconds, processing the situation until he scowled at you, grabbed you by the wrist and gently guided you back to your room.
    He had already assigned someone else to that mission but promised to soon give you a similar one.
    Jack also took that day off to watch you and make sure you didn’t get any other stupid ideas.


  • You were a little clumsy; everyone knew that very well, so it didn’t come as a surprise when you broke your ankle during a mission after tripping over a branch in the forest. Other than that, you were perfectly fine, no bruises or anything. Gabe didn’t seem too worried; your injury wasn’t life-threatening, he just kept telling you that you should have been more careful of your surroundings. 
  • He also turned out to be a teasing asshole about it.
    You want a hug? Stand up and get it.
    You need some water? What a shame the kitchen is so far away.
    However, as soon as you did stand up to get what you wanted, he freaked out, reminding you that he was only joking and that you had to sit back down and rest immediately.
  • He was actually worrying a lot more than he would have liked to admit, he kept reminding himself that you would be recovering quickly. Still, when he was at work or training with the Blackwatch members, he was always on edge, couldn’t wait to finally check up on you and make sure everything was alright.
    Gabe ordered McCree and Genji around to bring you water, a meal, another pillow, or anything else you requested when he was too busy. 
  • After finishing work, he immediately went over to your room, checking if you needed anything. As he saw you walking around, limping to the door to get some fresh air and finally move your limbs a little, he swiftly picked you up and put you into your bed again. He kept asking way too many questions. Have you eaten anything yet? Did you drink enough water? Was your foot still hurting a lot? Did you need painkillers?
    You had to reassure him that you were fine; it was just a broken ankle and not the end of the world. He must have completely forgotten about your injury not being life-threatening. 
  • Of course, Angela had given you crutches so it wasn’t like you couldn’t walk or at least hop around the headquarters on your own, yet Gabe didn’t let you go anywhere without supervision.
    You could have tripped and gotten hurt even worse, there was no way he was risking that.
    You thought reminding him that you were a grown adult able to take care of yourself helped? Nope, nice try though.
  • After practicing your puppy eyes for a while, you actually got him to carry you around, preferably by giving you a piggyback ride. Gabe might have sent death glares to the people throwing comments about him going soft but he actually enjoyed it. A lot. 


  • You almost got shot during a mission, the bullet only grazed your side in the end but it still left a nasty wound. When Hanzo found out about your injury, he completely freaked out on the inside but was able to conceal his panic pretty well. 
  • He was extremely careful, rejecting any kind of physical contact, afraid of hurting you even though you kept insisting that it barely hurt anymore and it shouldn’t have been a problem at all. Still, he refused to get too close to you, worried that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself after initiating anything. He was scared that any movement might have resulted in your wound starting to bleed again. 
  • Hanzo followed you around almost everywhere, almost every time, watching you closely. He kept an eye on you to make sure you didn’t strain yourself and didn’t do anything reckless that might have caused your wound to open. 
  • He was also extremely observant. If you were still hurting but trying to play it cool, he knew. You tried to hide your pain but he always found out, immediately coming to your side as soon as you winced only slightly, barely visible to anyone else. 
  • He kept asking if he could help you with any tasks or bring you food or drinks while also asking you to please just lie down and rest. He aided you with every single thing, even the easiest tasks that you could have finished by yourself without any problems.
    Hanzo wanted to make sure that there was no way you could hurt your side, he couldn’t stand seeing you in pain. You didn’t mind doing any of your chores, you needed some movement but you decided not to complain. 
  • You decided to go to the training room one night, secretly, having had enough of this confinement to your bed. Hanzo almost got a heart attack when he found your side of the bed empty at midnight but had a feeling you went out to train. He probably would have done the same.
    After he found you carefully practicing some basic moves he started to scold you but soon composed himself. He then proceeded to gently wrap his arms around you, careful not to get too close to your injury, and begged you not to make him worry like that again. After seeing that you were able to do some simple training without being in pain, he allowed you to do more things on your own again, still keeping a close eye on you, of course. 
Who will wait?

Author: Dalila
Ship: Sherlock x Reader
Word count: 2.931
Request: “Hi! Can you do 22 and 68 with Sherlock, please? 😍”
Prompts: 22. “It’s midnight, what do you want?”
                  68. “Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?”

           A single tear escaped your eye as you put the cellphone on the table. Even though the conversation seemed calm, inside your heart there was a war happening. Never before had your sister managed to get on your nerve so easily.

           At first you had no idea of what you were going to do. You just sank in your chair, hiding your face in your palms. Trying to calm the hurricane inside your head. So many thoughts racing so fast. You were unable to keep up with your own emotions.

           You ever got that feeling when you’re overwhelmed with uncertainty?

           Your hands were shaking slightly as you approached the door of your flat. Still not making the decision whether to go somewhere or not. And if you go – where shall it be? Your sister’s words pierced your heart even now.

           Come home, you belong here. With us. Everyone who loves you is here. Why hold a candle for London?

            You walked out, facing the evening London sky. As soon as you closed the door behind you, you welcomed the cool air. It flew through your hair, embracing your face in a gentle manner. But instead of picking a direction, you sat on a bench nearby.

           Is there someone who needs you?

           Was there someone who needed her in London?

           At first you didn’t even intend on staying that long there. You needed practice when it came to being a criminal psychologist. Partnership with Scotland Yard seemed to be the perfect occasion to improve your skills. What you didn’t expect was who you had to work with. Self-centred,  narrow-minded, deceitful hypocrites. The only exception was your boss, Greg, but it wasn’t enough. You were so close to leaving London.

           It wasn’t until you met Sherlock when you decided that this place might be worth staying. He may have been arrogant, attention seeking sociopath but he was being honest. Voicing all of his opinions. Sharp, but at the same time good. Perhaps misunderstood…

           You often helped him mess with Scotland Yard, getting him all the permissions he needed, trying to make it easier for him to solve his cases. Occasionally you made a small talk, wanting to get to know him. His attitude bothered you a little, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart pounded every time you saw him.

           Without knowing how or why, you ended up on Sherlock’s doorstep. Your body was shaking, only then you realized you didn’t even take your coat. Must have forgotten about it. Your hand reached out to knock on his door, but hesitated just before touching the wood. Was it really a good idea? Was there even any idea behind your actions?

           Is there someone who needs you?

           “It’s midnight, what do you want?” Sherlock snapped the door open and looked you over. Probably noticing every single detail that your body could offer him. The expression he wore was his usual one, free of any sign of human emotions. And your heart jumped, as always.

           “I… I think I needed someone to talk to.” You whispered, barely audible. Arms went around your frame, trying to keep the remains of warmth from escaping. Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at your response.

           “John isn’t here. You could have checked before coming all the way here by foot.” He said and began closing the door on you.

           Instinctively you reached out and stopped him from doing so. “Can’t I talk to you?” your lip trembled before your eyes met his. Yours full of some unnamed feeling. Too overwhelming to name. And his – cold, wiped from any sort of emotions.

           “What is the point of talking with me? If you don’t even know what is happening with you.” He hesitated, slowly stepping aside to let you in. Without saying anything you walked past him and sat on a chair. “Because you don’t know what is happening, right?”

           “You’re right…” you whispered, closing your eyes. What were you even doing here? Of course Sherlock Holmes wasn’t the wisest choice of a companion at a moment like that. What was the purpose of coming there? “Maybe you can figure out what is it. You always know everything.”

           Sherlock huffed at you, rolling his eyes as he sank in his chair. “Deduction is not a superpower.” He looked at you as if you were a child who couldn’t understand the most basic thing in life. This gaze often caused a blush on your cheeks, but not this time. “What I can observe is that you’re clearly affected after having a talk with someone. Can’t be anyone from Scotland Yard, you don’t care about their opinions. Most likely a member of your family.”

           “I don’t think…” you gulped, trying to keep yourself from breaking down in front of him. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” You tried to understand why the conversation with your sister brought you to this state. Maybe it was the realization that despite living in London for almost a year, you couldn’t adjust yourself to this city. Your work sucked, there was no one to hold on to. No one would care if you left.

           Is there someone who needs you?

           “What else is? You’re feeling down because of socialization and socialization is your choice of dealing with the problem. So the problem is about people. But there isn’t anyone to associate it with, at least not here.” His words flew towards you and surrounded your mind the way a rope surrounds a hangman’s neck. Tears were flowing down your face, as you unsuccessfully tried to keep it all together. There were holes in your heart you couldn’t close. Not by yourself. But all Sherlock did was creating new holes. “You don’t have anyone here. Everyone you know you consider as fake and selfish. Others are not significant enough to…”

           “Shut up for a moment, Sherlock!” you shouted at him, as you lost all you composed. You were shaking, not just because of the cold, but also because of the sobbing. Your eyes hurt, heartbeat irregular. “Why did you do this?” once more that day you covered your face with your hands, trying to hide your despair from the world.

           “Why did you come here?” Sherlock asked, not moving one inch from his seat. He just observed you, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with you. He had no idea of what comforting people was about. He couldn’t understand how people couldn’t tell what they were feeling. “I told you, I’m not the kind of person to have a friendly chit-chatting. If you needed comfort, you wasted your time coming here.” Then he got up from his seat and walked through the kitchen to make some tea. Leaving you on the other chair, sobbing quietly.

           You didn’t dare look at the room for a while, not even knowing if Sherlock came back from the kitchen or not. You tried to process your thoughts, but the whole situation was too much for you to think about it right now. No matter your subconscious intentions of coming here, you felt much worse than you did back at your flat. The place which you couldn’t call home, even though at that moment it did seem a pretty good place to hide.

           “I won’t bother you then.” You whispered, getting up and heading towards the door. Sherlock was right, there was no point in coming there and it was ridiculous to stay any longer. You trembled at the thought of walking back to your flat. No, this time you’d take a cab.

           “Wait a second.” Sherlock told you in his casual tone. You turned to see him sitting back to his chair with a cup of tea in his hand. “One thing I know is that there is a question you’ve been dying to ask me.” Without even looking back at you, he took his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text. “Are you really gonna leave without asking me?” he raised his eyebrows, as you stared in his eyes.

           Is there someone who needs me?

           You needed to swallow before you could answer his question without breaking into tears once more. “You always know everything without asking people for information.” You even managed to give him a weak smile before grabbing the knob. “In this case I’m the one who knows the answer without asking the question. Goodbye, Sherlock.” You opened the door.

           “Your cab is waiting for you. Bye, (Y/N)” Sherlock said before taking a sip from his cup. How did he… Of course he knew.

           Or is there someone that you need?

          “You’re really coming back?” your sister’s voice on the phone sounded happier than it had in months. “This is so sudden, (Y/N). But I’m so happy to see you again! When is your flight?”

          “Hold your horses.” You laughed into the cellphone, but even you could tell it was a dry laugh. Your heart was aching. Probably the perspective of coming back home made you homesick. Probably you just wished you could be already home. “I need to wrap things up before I leave. It may take a while. But I hope I’ll make it home before the month ends.” All you knew was that your heart was aching for something. And it didn’t get easier.

          Will you wait for me?
          Or shall I wait for you?

          “You heard about (Y/N)?” John asked Sherlock while they were investigating a body in the St. Bart’s morgue. For the past few days Sherlock was slightly more silent than usual. John thought it could be because of their newest case which did seem unique. What he didn’t know was that Sherlock was still puzzled about the night you came into his flat, seeking comfort.

          “About what exactly?” Sherlock asked nonchalantly, observing the mysterious spots on the corpse’s ankles.

          “(Y/N) phoned me last night, she wanted to say goodbye. She said that the work with Scotland Yard is not her thing and she’s coming home by the end of the month.” John took in the way Sherlock’s face looked. But there was no visible change, even for John.

          “As far as I remember, their partnership was supposed to be temporary. It shouldn’t come as a surprise.” However Sherlock was a master in hiding his thoughts from the world. He didn’t understand what was happening. He anticipated that soon you’d quit your job and come back home to people who did matter to you. And yet when it turned into a fact, the thought was unsettling. Why did he feel like this?

          Will you wait for me?
          Or shall I wait for you?

          “What can I say, it was a real pleasure – having you here.” Lestrade offered you a small smile as you finished packing your stuff from the office. “And it’s definitely not pleasant to lose you.”

          You only laughed at his words. Oh, you were going to miss your boss. “There’ll come someone else. Maybe even better than me.” There was the last stack of files to pack, but you didn’t manage to get them all at once. The last file stayed on the desk and you looked at it. Your very first criminal to interrogate here. Caught by Sherlock. That was the very day you first met.

          “I doubt that. There aren’t many people as clever and as kind as you. Usually it’s just one of those things.” He patted you on the shoulder before going back to his office. You offered him one last smile before leaving Scotland Yard for good.

          Which one of us will be the first
          to admit we’ve been wrong.

          It was already dark outside when you finished booking your flight back home. Everything was arranged, the following day was going to be your last one in London. Another chapter of your life closed for good. Even though it didn’t feel as if there was a proper closure.

          The thought of slipping into sweet unconsciousness made you smile, as you put your laptop to your suitcase. Then you heard knocking on the door. It was too late for the landlord, but who else would it be? Slightly nervous you approached the door and opened it.

          “Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?” you saw Sherlock standing on your doorstep, with his hair dropping water on your floor. It rained outside some time ago.

          “You didn’t get a cab.” You told him, moving aside so he could walk in. The confusion was evident on your face as you watched him. “Why?”

          “Good question. I couldn’t understand why you came to me that night.” Sherlock said, observing himself as if only then he noticed the water on his clothes.

          “Is it about that night? We both know it was just stupid…”

          “No, it wasn’t.” he got up and walked to the window. “I tried doing the same as you did that night, I thought maybe I could then understand what was happening with you. And it struck me just before I knocked on your door. I know the question and I know the answer.” He looked over at you, a proud smile spreading on his face. “I don’t need you.” He told you, as if he it was just another case.

          It took you a moment before you could say anything. You knew the answer ever since your last conversation. You left just so you didn’t have to hear it. You feared the words would sink in your head and haunt you at nights. And suddenly Sherlock came just a day before you’d leave and ruined it all. “Get out…” you whispered, feeling water gathering in your eyes. You headed towards the kitchen, trying to calm yourself.

          “I don’t need you. And you don’t need me.” He continued, following your every step. “I won’t ask you to stay here and you won’t stay because of me. But there is something else to that. You considered it because I was someone you wanted to stay for.” You turned towards him, tears glimmering in your eyes. There was a strong temptation to just slap him for all the words he threw at you like knives. But you decided against that.

          “So what? Yes, I like you! More than I like everyone else here. But it doesn’t matter. You’re not right for me!” you shouted, freeing all the thoughts you buried deep down your heart. Thought you were so afraid of. “It would never work. You don’t feel the way I do, you’re not even capable of that!” you turned from him, your hands meeting at the back of your neck. Tiredness and adrenaline took the better of you. You shouldn’t have said that…

          “I’m not sure about that.” Sherlock said before gently putting his thumb underneath your chin so he could make you face him. You didn’t fight his movements, obeying them. His blue eyes weren’t as icy as they used to be. There was something else hiding beneath the surface. “Romantic interests aren’t my thing. They’re not useful and always get in the way. But I can’t deny the fact you mark my thoughts in ways I cannot understand. You’re the first person that makes me doubt my own thoughts.” His hand moved from under your chin to tenderly caress your cheek. You closed your eyes at his touch and stood there silent.

          “You make me vulnerable in ways I cannot explain. And it drove me mad that I couldn’t understand you that night.” You opened your eyes at him. He lowered his head so his black curls filled your entire vision. Sherlock was all you could see and soon you closed your eyes again, just moments before your lips met.

          The kiss wasn’t passionate or hungry. It was like finding your way in the dark. Finding the light that pulls you out of your worst despair. You gave in quickly and returned the kiss, adding more feeling to it. It was a sweet mix of your warmth and his cold. His other arm went around your waist and pulled you closer to him. And for a moment you just stood there, kissing each other tenderly. It didn’t feel rushed, it felt… right.

          Once you pulled away, you looked at him, swallowing before trying to gather your thoughts. “What is going to happen now?” you asked quietly, dropping your gaze for a moment. Of all things that could happen that night, that one was the last you expected.

          “It’s simple. You’re returning home and I go back to Baker Street. I told you, I don’t need you and you don’t need me.” Sherlock stroked your hair gently, as he spoke with a small smile. “You’ll have your old life back and I’ll have mine. We’re not right for each other. But one day… maybe we’ll find each other again.”

          A smile grew on your lips as you listened to his words. Of course, that was the only solution for the two of you. You understood his point perfectly. Sherlock had his work, one he wouldn’t abandon for anyone. Not you. And you had your family and friends waiting for you. New adventures waited for the both of you, two separate roads. Roads which perhaps would meet again one day.

          “Will you wait for me then? You asked, taking your hand in his. This sort of contact still seemed a new thing for him, but he didn’t pull away, offering you a smile.

          “Maybe. We’ll see how it goes.” his soft chuckle filled the flat before Sherlock tilted his head while still gazing down at you. “And will you wait for me?”

          “Maybe…” you whispered before approaching his lips once more.

Wieners & Peaches

Originally posted by kimsjaehwan

next chap. ->

Characters: Wanna One x Reader

The apartment building you were living in was brand new, so there were a bunch of available apartments to rent, including five other apartments surrounding yours. All of the neighbors you’ve met so far were the sweetest people, and it’s so nice and quiet around the area, it was safe for children and safe for somebody like you. The five other apartments are finally sold, and you couldn’t be happier to have someone to share the floor with. Two families and a duo of boys moved in on the east wing of the 22nd floor, and on the west wing, where your apartment and the two others were located, was now occupied by four other guys, two in one respectively. And now, after a few months has passed by, you’re regretting your wish of wanting neighbors.

WARNING: Inappropriate behaviors and use of curse words!

 I’ll edit this tomorrow, but for now, enjoy while you can? pls have mercy, it’s been waaaaaaaay toooooooo long. I live for neighbor!wanna one. I haven’t proofread it yet, it’s way past midnight, my eyes hurt, my hamster’s sleeping and I have work tomorrow. I’ll just drop it here and if people like it, I might continue? idk, we’ll see. 

Second A/N: I somewhat proofread it? and I edited quite a few things. See for yourself and thanks a bunch! <3

“Can I borrow some eggs, babe?”

There wasn’t anything you had against your neighbors, they were all nice and sweet, with the exception of them.

You had a long day before this very morning; you had work starting from three pm to midnight and were almost late to work due to the heavy rush hours of Seoul, and by the time you got to your work place, GS25 at Samseong, your boss, Mr. Kwon asked if you could work overtime until he could find another to take the next shift after yours. Which was the midnight shift, also known as, the shift nobody wants to take. He explains himself further by saying Woojung’s Grandmother died and had to urgently leave for Ilsan, and as much as you hated it, you still said yes. Woojung was one of your closest friends, he would have done the same for you.

Five hours into your nine hour shift, there was still no call or message from Mr. Kwon, which left you with a bad stomach, but you still tried to think positive about it and told yourself he must have forgotten to call you, he was one forgetful old man. When five hours eventually turned to eight, that’s when he called back.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, but could you please just cover the entire shift for Woojung?”

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A Thin Line [ Part 3 ] - Tom Holland x Reader imagine

Title: A Thin Line - Part 3
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: There’s a thin line between love and hate
Word Count: 1.1k
Warning: Fluuuuuff
A/N: Since a few people asked for it & I thought it would be cute, here is part 3! I’m very sorry if there’s silly mistakes or spelling errors, I’m half asleep since it’s past 1am here. Credit to gif owner.

Part 1 | Part 2

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zoerussle  asked:

Ignis seems to keep getting the short end of the stick in royal soulmate, id love a short fic where hes happy.

canon verse or something vaguely like it

i hope this fluffy promnis will do~ vaguely based on this writing prompt

where would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night? texts Ignis.

Prompto considers the text. He scrolls up on his phone and–okay, no, he didn’t totally miss a conversation where he and Iggy talked about getting dinner tomorrow night. He tries to think if Iggy mentioned anything when they were at Noct’s apartment a few days ago. Or did Noct? Shit, Prompto must have forgotten something.

idk? Prompto texts back. Whatever you want

I was thinking about the Accordan restaurant on 5th, Iggy texts back immediately. Okay, so that wasn’t really a question. It’s close to the gallery, so we won’t have far to walk.

Wait, what gallery? Prompto thinks, thumb hovering over his phone. When did Iggy mention a gallery? But he’s clearly expecting that they’re going to dinner… and a gallery… together… on a Friday night…

Prompto mulls this over, considers that the last few times he’s been with Ignis either Gladio or Noctis were also there, and pulls up a group text.

hey guys did Iggy ask me out to dinner and a gallery one of the last times we were all hanging out and I just like, Prompto sends. forgot

Noctis, probably putting off something important, texts back immediately. what

iggy asked you out????? [fanfare] [eggplant] [champagne]

about fucking time

And then Gladio, that’s awesome! And, what do you mean you ‘forgot’?

i don’t remember him asking me but he just asked what restaurant we should go to and idk??? Prompto writes, jiggling his thigh against the bench. He moves his camera off his lap and back into its case.

Noctis and Gladio are blowing up his phone, with things like, he didn’t ask you out around us but he’s been pining FOREVER and it’s been SUCKING so GO ON A DATE with him and did he forget to ask you out and omg how could he forget the most important part of going on a date??? and unless did you get hit on the head during practice gladio did he hit his head?? and nah he hasn’t had any injuries in practice recently he’s fine

Prompto goes back to the chat with Iggy.

so, i don’t remember you asking me out, he writes, but that sounds great, let’s do the accordan restaurant

He sends, and it takes less than a second for Ignis to call him.

“Prompto,” Ignis says, and sighs audibly over the phone. “It appears I was… so worked up about this gallery and dinner and going on a date with you,” and Prompto thrills a bit that Ignis who’s a Count and looks so handsome all the time and is so cool wants to go on a date with him, “that it appears I forgot to do the asking out part of it.”

“That’s a pretty important part of it,” Prompto says, when Iggy doesn’t continue.

He laughs a bit. “Indeed. So, well,” he says, “there’s a photography gallery showing at the Titan tomorrow night. Would you like to go see it with me and get dinner?”

“Yeah,” Prompto says, smiling. “That sounds great. I heard there’s a great Accordan restaurant in walking distance of the gallery, too.”

dutch-butch  asked:

your grandma???? traumatised a car dealer????

well, to be fair to the poor car dealer, she didn’t really traumatize him, but rather severely threw him for a loop like we’re still fairly convinced he has to suffer from whiplash symptoms

(man, i really need to start a #september’s grandma tag, don’t i, because do i love my iron lady)

  • but okay so
  • 6 years ago my grandpa died
  • which was awful and horrible for all different kinds of reasons
  • but one of them was because he had literally JUST bought a brand new bmw, complete with all different kinds of spacey contraptions that really none of us knew what to start making heads and tails of
  • least of all grandma
  • and she refused to step foot inside of it after grandpa died
  • like she just flat out refused
  • so she had to buy a car of her own
  • which she did
  • she bought a second-hand audi a3 which she was very satisfied with
  • BUT
  • it was red
  • (she hates red)
  • and a year later, she got the audi catalog advertising their brand new color; purple
  • (her favorite color is purple)
  • so she decided to buy a new car
  • (a purple one)
  • and because we were all just kind of glad that she was slowly trying to fight to get back to her life again after grandpa’s death, we were all very supportive of her
  • so my aunt followed her down to the car dealership
  • (again)
  • and grandma explained that she wanted a brand new audi a3 exactly like the one standing outside
  • but in purple
  • to which the car dealer went “yeah, of course, we can do that, no problem” and started crunching out numbers for her to inspect and showing her information brochures and just generally chit chatting with her
  • but as the conversation started dwindling down to a close my grandma asked “so when can i pick it up?”
  • to which the car dealer just kind of went “what wait what?”
  • so grandma repeated herself; “when can i pick it up?”
  • and the, now very confused, car dealer went “what, you want to buy it now? like right NOW??”
  • to which grandma just answered “well what do you think i’m here for?”
  • and so the car dealer had to scramble to start filling out all the correct forms for grandma to order her brand new (purple) car right there and then
  • for a context;
  • my grandma is a quite short woman, with grey hair, soft wrinkles and an unmistakable finnish accent, who always walks around barefoot, carrying her green leather clutch (often accompanied with her pink windbreaker) and doesn’t like driving on the highway and had had my aunt drive her down to the dealership
  • so this was the woman who suddenly declared that she was ready to order a brand new audi, special ordered from the factory in germany, for 500 000 kronor, which is about 60 000 dollars, without any preamble 
  • my aunt literally can’t try to explain the look on the car dealer’s face without breaking down in laughter, even all these years later
  • and then when he finally started to recover from that shock and doing his best to catch up with this 72 year old gunpowder lady, grandma reached into her green leather clutch and said she wanted to pay for the down payment in cash

so that’s how my 72 year old grandma mildly traumatized a car dealer when she wanted to buy a new car because she didn’t like the color of her old one

  • but the real kicker didn’t come until she finally got the car
  • so because the car was literally brand new, it was the first of that very model and color delivered to at least sweden; not a single soul had been allowed to sit in the driver’s seat before grandma went to pick it up
  • this also meant that as she arrived at the car dealership, the car was hidden behind a cover, and they had a small ceremony as they unveiled it for grandma
  • (she had had a little more tact this time around, and had only complained quietly to our company that they must have forgotten about her car when she didn’t immediately see it when we walked into the dealership)
  • and grandma, because she was 72 years old and not really the most experienced driver, had dad drive it out of the dealership and to a nearby parking lot so that she could get acquainted with the new car with some peace and quiet
  • and i kid you not
  • the first thing she says as she gets seated behind the wheel was “what the hell is this? this is not what i ordered”
  • because while the car was still an a3, it was a newer model, and had some minor upgrades to the dashboard
  • and grandma was so affronted that the new car, while purple, wasn’t exactly like her old (red) car, because that was what she had told the car dealership to get her
  • it took some serious convincing to not let her drive straight back to complain to the poor car dealers
  • and it took like, a full half year before she finally let it go
  • i love my old iron lady so much
Daddy Issues - Part Two

Description: Yeah like you got daddy issues.

A/U: This was an emotional rollercoaster to write, so I’m praying y’all feel the same. Also, there are a lot of the y/n y/l/n like things in this. I was under the impression I could change additional ones but it won’t work for me. If you know how I can fix it please message me!

Word Count: 4,893

<< Part One

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Running away from home and going over to Mark’s place

Request: “Hi I was hoping I could make a request for a scenario with Mark from NCT about where his girlfriend shows up at his door because she had a huge fight with her parents and packed all her stuff and left and asking if she could stay with him – And it be fluffy and lots of cuddles – If that’s not too much to ask

Thank you for requesting! ^^ This was a cute request, I enjoyed writing this even though it took me a little longer than the previous requests! >< I hope you like this and as always, feedback is warmly welcomed in any form! ^^

i’m not sure if this is enough to please you cuddling-wise but i think this turned out pretty good and i squealed quite a bit while writing this, idk, it could be just me

Words: 1551

Fluffy stuff coming your way watch out, it’s out to get you

Requested by @holyzombiechild ♥

Originally posted by stal777

You were nervous. It was like you were in a dream, the situation just seemed so surreal. The sound of big raindrops hitting the ground filled your ears while you stood on the front porch, waiting patiently for the door to be opened.

Thoughts about just turning around and going back home passed your mind but your legs refused to move. It was like they were telling you that this was the best option for now.

The backpack on your back was making your shoulders ache. You had hurriedly packed random things inside it and it had ended up heavier than you had thought it would.

When the door finally opened, you felt your body stiffen.

“Oh, _____,” the woman smiled warmly to you. “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight. Mark didn’t mention it.”

You forced a small smile. “Ah, really? He must have forgotten about it.”

“Very possible,” she chuckled and opened the door wider to let you in. “Seems like you got soaked. Did you forget your umbrella?”

You held in the sigh of relief upon putting down the backpack. “I couldn’t find it,” you lied. “I just ran through the rain. It wasn’t a big deal.”

The woman only chuckled and walked towards the kitchen. “Mark’s in his room,” she said before disappearing into the kitchen.

A little less nervous, you took off your shoes and picked up the heavy backpack before heading to where you could find your boyfriend. His room.

After knocking on the door gently and hearing a “yes?” from inside the room, you opened the door. Mark seemed surprised by your sudden appearance and stood up from the chair he was sitting it to walk over to you.

Hanging your head low, you closed the door behind you. “I’m sorry for coming without asking.”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Why are you here, though? Did something happen?”

There was a brief silence. “I ran away from home…” you told him.

Again, a brief silence. “What?” he asked, surprised. “You? Why?”

“I had a fight with my parents,” you mumbled, hanging your head low.

“About what?”

“My future…” you mumbled the two words while trying hard to not think about the fight too much. “Anyway, if you don’t mind… Can I stay here? For tonight?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he said.

You smiled a little. “Thank you,” you thanked him.

“Don’t mention it,” he pecked your forehead. “Please make yourself comfortable. And change your clothes. You’ll catch a cold in those,” he said, referring to your wet clothes. Now that he mentioned it, you did feel a little cold.

“Where are you going?” you asked him when he opened the door and was about to exit the room.

He turned his head and smiled warmly. “I’ll go make something hot to drink. You need it.”

With that he exited the room and made sure to close the door to ensure that you got some privacy.

There was a knock on the door of the room. “Are you done changing?” Mark’s voice asked on the other side of the door and you looked down at your clothes.

“I guess…” you responded and soon he entered the room with a tray that had two mugs placed on it. Steam was rising from the mugs.

“What’s with the outfit?” he asked after closing the door and putting the tray down on his table.

“I honestly don’t know,” you let out a sigh.

When you had packed your stuff, you had just stuffed random pieces of clothing inside the backpack. You had wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible so you hadn’t properly thought about what to take with you. So, there you were, wearing a top with spaghetti straps and a pair of pajama shorts. They were wearable, for sure, but not very warm or comfortable for that matter.

“I just threw whatever in my backpack when I was about to leave,” you told him, slightly regretting your hurried escape. “I just wanted to get out as fast as possible.”

“Wait a second,” he said and walked past you.

You turned around to see what he was doing and discovered that he was going through his closet.

“What are you doing?” you asked, confused.

“It should be around here…” he mumbled to himself. “I think- Aha! Here it is!”

You watched your boyfriend with interest.

“One more thing…” he continued with the mumbling and this time crouched down in front of the closet while still looking for something. “They should be fine…”

After a few minutes, he stood up and closed the door of the closet. Then he turned around and your eyes focused immediately on the things he held in his hands.

“Because you silly forgot to pack proper clothes, I’ll let you borrow mine for this once,” he said half-jokingly and your lips curved in to a small smile. “A hoodie and a pair of sweatpants will do, I hope.”

When he handed you the clothes you were silent for a bit. “Just to be sure… You washed these, right?” you asked to confirm and earned a look from him.

“Obviously,” he said. “Why do you even ask?” he asked, amused.

“Just to be sure,” you smiled.

First, you decided to put on the pants while Mark went to get a towel for your still partly wet hair. You were pleased to find that the pants, though a little too long and baggy, fit you comfortably. Mark returned when you had started putting the hoodie on. You were struggling with it a little and you could hear him chuckle.

“Don’t drown in there,” he said and helped you wear the hoodie that was big on your body. “Does it feel comfortable?” he asked while looking at how the clothes fit you.

You nodded and grabbed the towel he had brought for you.

“Is there anything you would like to do?” Mark asked and handed you one of the two mugs filled with what seemed to be - at least judging from the scent - your favorite tea. You dried your hair with the towel.

“Just hang out,” you told him and sipped the tea carefully. It tasted good and warmed you up.

“As in watching movies or just talking?” he asked and sat down on his bed.

“I’m not really in the mood for movies,” you sat down next to him and leaned on the wall behind you.

There was a silence during which you both just enjoyed your tea and thought about different things. Your mind was rather blank apart from occasional, fleeting thoughts.

“Are you warming up?” Mark asked after you had both finished your tea.

You nodded and he gave you a smile. He took the mugs back to the tray and exited the room to take the dishes to the kitchen. While he did that, you decided to lie down on the bed. You were feeling quite tired and sleepy. When Mark came back, he looked at you for a bit before walking over and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“You seem tired,” he said.

“I am,” you admitted.

Soon he was lying down next to you. It wasn’t the first time you had slept in the same bed so neither one of you felt awkward.

“I’m sorry for coming over so suddenly,” you apologized silently.

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s nice to have you over.”

He turned to lie on his side and you looked at each other. You felt so at peace that for a second you thought you had already fallen asleep and were dreaming.

“I’m sure everything will be alright,” he said and brushed a strand of hair off your face and behind your ear. “Don’t worry too much. Everyone fights with their parents sometimes. And even though their opinions might sound stupid and useless, I still think you should give them a little thought. Consider their opinions and if you still think they are useless, tell them how you feel and why you are upset.”

“What’s with the sudden lesson?” you gave a tired laugh.

He smiled seeing your smile. “I just wanted to say something wise.”

You chuckled and closed your eyes. Your eyelids felt too heavy.  

“Did I do okay?” he asked and pulled himself a little closer to you.

You just hummed, feeling too tired to open your mouth.

“What?” he asked.

Again, you hummed.

“You think I’m the wisest person you’ve ever met? I think I’m blushing a little…” he joked and you opened your eyes to give him a playful nudge which he reacted to by laughing. His laugh made you chuckle a little too.

“Thanks anyway,” you mumbled. “For the oh-so-wise words,” your statement made him smile.

“I’m always ready to share some more of those,” he said while playing with your hair. “So, tell me if you need some wisdom in your life.”

“For sure,” you smiled. “I’m so lucky to have such a wise boyfriend.”

Mark chuckled very slightly and kept playing with your hair. You liked the feeling of him playing with your hair. It was somewhat soothing.

“Just know that I’ll always be here for you,” he said very softly.

“Me too,” you responded.
Igniparous, a fairy tail fanfic | FanFiction
Dragons. Fire born beasts larger than houses, wicked fangs and claws that could tear people to pieces. They train them. They ride them. They fight beside them. Eventyr, an academy in Northern Ishgar, is where young men and women go to train for the Ryttere, the military's Dragon Corps. But dragons aren't the only thing Natsu and Lucy discover there.

Lucy glances at the battered tapestry on the wall, thoughts straying from what Makarov is telling her, the words becoming white noise, hazy and easily forgotten. It’s an old thing, the tapestry, frayed at the edges and bloodstained. Her gaze traces the lines in the fabric, following the fine weaving of each stitch until she can’t find where one ends and the next begins. For a long moment she wonders how long it’s been here, rotting away in this room, left for the bugs. It’s collecting dust, only a thin layer, but dust all the same. Makarov must have forgotten about it over the summer when he left for The North. No matter, the old thing was decaying the last time she saw it, she doubts it can be saved now.

Her gaze flicks over the art, taking in the monstrous shapes and dimming colors: Dragons. The tapestry has been around since the first Dragon War, years and years ago. The thing should be in a museum somewhere, some place where it can be protected from time. Makarov never has been one for giving up his prizes, however. She forgets the story behind it, but she knows he must have won the old thing, probably back during his days as a gambler.

He doesn’t do that much anymore, not since before Lucy was born. From what she’s been told, he was good at the game, could play his cards right and outmatch just about anyone, but when he lost, he lost hard. It cost him his marriage, but he wouldn’t let it cost him his children, or his eventual grandchildren. Despite this, Lucy knows he still has a fondness for risk taking, though he’s more strategic about cutting his losses.

She remembers an occasion where he had a bit too much bourbon and too little luck during a game of poker. It had cost him his pants and perhaps a little of his dignity. Regardless, it was certainly a holiday to remember, even if she was mortified to see her grandfather strip down to nothing.

It was Laxus’ fault, really. He was the one that brought out the bourbon in the first place, despite knowing what a mess it would make. He should have known better than to do that, but she supposes that with everything that happened around that time, Laxus just wanted all of them to forget. They all just needed to forget, at least for a little while. She wishes it was that simple, but forgetting isn’t nearly as easy as it sounds, and the bourbon only led to more heartbreak than it was worth.

Laxus tried though, and that’s more than Lucy did.

New fic guys! Enjoy <3

anonymous asked:

Hi love! I love your story's so much!! I was wondering if you could do one where Damian's older sister is secretly dating Grayson and Damian finds out by either walking in on them or else them in bed together in the morning before she could go back to her own room

Hi!! This was super fun to write too so thank you for sending in this request! Hope it was what you wanted though. Thank you and enjoy! To my new followers, hi! Thank you for following and giving this blog a chance! I’ll try hard not to disappoint anyone.

You are startled from your sleep when your face is hit with sunshine and you feel a breeze causing you to turn to hide your face on your boyfriend’s chest. Only to be greeted with disappointment when you meet the cold, empty space beside you instead. You let out a small dissatisfied moan, pushing away the covers. A smile appears on your face when you see the marks from last night’s romp and stretch your body the moment you got out of the bed.

The door to your bathroom opens and Dick walks out, body still dripping wet as he dries his hair. His face brightens when he sees that you are awake. Dick pads over to you and you smile warmly at him, unabashedly staring at his wonderful, wet body,

“Morning, babe. Slept well?” Dick asks as he takes a seat beside you and you nod your head before pressing yourself closer to him, not minding the fact that you are going to get slightly wet too and that Dick is still wet from his morning shower.

You nod your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss on his collarbone. “Mhm, the best but I missed you.” You murmur as you press another kiss, this time to his jaw, taking that chance to take a whiff of his aftershave too.

Dick chuckles, dropping the towel he had been using to dry his hair beside him before he turns to face you. He grabs your face with both of his hands and places a kiss on your forehead, your eyes, your nose, your cheeks and lastly your lips. You sigh pleasantly in to the kiss, bringing your arms to wrap them around Dick’s neck.

Before things can get too heated between the two of you, the door to your bedroom opens and Damian steps in. “Good morning, sister!” Damian greets loudly, like he normally does, but he freezes when he catches sight of what is happening in front of him. Dick had pulled away from you the moment Damian had announced his arrival.

Damian notes that Dick is still holding your face in his hands, looking like a deer caught in headlights and he isn’t wearing anything but a towel. He can’t quite see you well for Dick’s body is covering most of you but he reckons that you are most likely under dressed – or not dressed at all – judging by the squeaky gasp that left your mouth and Dick throwing the covers around your body.

“Damian!” Your eyes are wide as you stare at your brother over Dick’s shoulders – thankful for Dick’s position because you really do not want your brother to see you like this. Dick releases the hold he has on you and turns to look at Damian too. You take that chance to grab the first shirt you saw on the floor, putting it on very quickly. Judging from how big it is, it most likely belongs to Dick.

“She is my sister, you imbecile!” Damian snaps and is almost ready to throw himself at Dick when you step in front of him, holding on to his shoulders. “Sister.” He looks at you in a rather strange way. “Tt.”

Dick picks up the clean shirt he had been planning on wearing and put it on when he notices the shirt you are wearing. He hopes Damian does not realize that and grabs his shorts too. “Listen, Damian.” Dick starts but Damian growls against your hold, narrowing his eyes at Dick. If Damian had superpowers, Dick would probably be dead already with how intense the little bird is glaring at him.

“She is my older sister – how could you!” Damian exclaims. Damian should have seen this coming – he has had suspicions about the two of you but whenever he asks you, you always assured him that there was nothing going on between Grayson and you. But this – he glances at Grayson and you – this is certainly not ‘nothing’. He turns to look at you, almost pouting. “Were you ever going to tell me, sister?” He ignores Grayson’s approaching figure.

You let out a sigh. “We are – this upcoming family dinner. I really like Dick, Damian. Will you forgive this sister of yours for not informing you immediately of our relationship?” You pull Damian closer to you and made him face you. He tries to continue his glares but when you jut out your lower lips and almost pouts, Damian relents and nods his head, relaxing against your hold.

“There is nothing to apologize for, sister.” Damian assures you before turning to look at Dick. “Grayson on the other hand…” He trails off. “I expect to see you at the training room in ten minutes.” He harrumphs before pulling himself out of your hold. “Do not be late.” Damian excuses himself from the room after making sure Dick understands his request.

Dick lets out a big sigh of relief when Damian disappears from his view. He actually had expected Damian to throw his fists at him right there and then but instead, the little bat had given him at least ten minutes to prepare himself. He is not looking forward to their sparring session. He is pretty sure Damian is just going to use this to hit him every chance he can get.

You wrap an arm around your boyfriend. “I am so sorry about that.” You bite the inside of your cheek. The two of you were really going to announce your relationship to the family this upcoming family dinner – not that it changes anything since you are sure almost everyone knows about the two of you – but you must have forgotten about Damian’s habit of visiting you in the morning.

Dick chuckles, pulling you closer to him, burying his nose on your hair. “Nothing I can’t handle, Y/N.” Dick assures you and you squeeze him slightly. “I best head over to him before Damian gets angrier.” Dick pulls away from you, all thoughts about wanting to spend some time with you has to be put on the back burner for now.

You nod your head, pulling away from your boyfriend and you give him a kiss on the lips. Dick raises one of his eyebrows when you pull away. “For good luck.” You tell him cheekily and Dick laughs before giving you one more kiss.

“God help you when Damian reaches his puberty, Dick.” You say nonchalantly causing Dick to groan at the thought. “Good luck, babe.” You smack Dick’s ass and he laughs before making his way out of your bedroom to face the impending doom.

One. Zero. One. Three. (An Adlock x Marylock Fanfiction)

(Hey y’all! The other day, I had this epiphany that I wanted to make a fic with references to John trying to flirt with Irene in ASiB. Thanks to @i-am-benedict-cumberbatched‘s amazing prompt on Mary learning about Irene waaaaaay back, my plans have been culminated into this so hope y’all enjoy!)

Originally posted by consultingpiskies

There’s a huge distinction between lilacs and purples, and it is important to know which is which – or so Sherlock convinces himself to believe. 

221B has been filled with clutter, or at least more clutter than usual, ever since the preparations for John and Mary’s wedding started. He couldn’t hide his nervousness, despite trying to be his level-headed self, waiting for the event to happen making him uneasy. 

The obvious thing that occurred in his mind is the disturbing sentimentality that comes along his camaraderie with John Watson. To be fair, it is quite manageable considering the fact that having Mary in his life now is one to be grateful for. In fact, if he believed in a higher power, he would probably consider it a blessing.

“Are you looking up bridesmaid dresses?” Mary asked, taking him by surprise as she popped up behind him. 

He abruptly closed his laptop, playing it cool, and simply replied, “Just doing my research.”

Mary giggled, rolling her eyes playfully at him. In her hands were a bunch of invitations. 

“Anyone else you’d like to include, Sherlock? Probably a date? John mentioned a crazy mad one from before.” she asked teasingly. Behind her, John gave a not-so-subtle scoff. 

Mary raised her eyebrow and turned to face her soon-to-be husband. “Her name’s Irene Adler, right John?”

John pursed his lips, probably remembering the lie Mycroft told him. The Woman was supposed to be dead, right? 

“Ah, yes. Erm…” John simply muttered. “Probably not the best idea to invite her to our wedding.”

Mary looked amused. “Why not? Sherlock doesn’t seem to mind.”

Sherlock looked at Mary with a protesting expression. “I didn’t–”

“Ooooh! I think I struck a nerve here!” Mary quipped delightfully, resting her chin on her fingers. “Now, I really want to invite her.”

John sighed. “That bloody woman is a walking chaos. Talk about…”

Sherlock found himself irritated, John’s words sounding muddled against his ears. He finds his patience more tolerating when it comes to John and Mary, but this time, the doctor’s words against The Woman gave his head a buzz. A similar feeling occurred years ago, when John was deliberately turning on the charm, or what people call tried to flirt, with Irene Adler back when all three of them first met. 

And so, he couldn’t quite stop his own tongue at spilling the following words: “If I remember correctly, you didn’t initially think she was a chaotic woman. She was actually your type before she deliberately turned you down.”

John stopped talking, brows knitting together in confusion. 

“Oh, this is the first time I am hearing about this.” Mary grinned, nodding at Sherlock to continue. 

Sherlock sighed. “No, I–”

John, still obviously irritated, leaned towards their direction. “I want to hear about this as well. What in the world are you talking about?”

The detective realised that John must have forgotten about the incident already, but even with the protests of his logical self, his mouth started to recount the story.

“When we asked her about the case of the hiker and the backfire, and how she knew about it, she said she knew what one of the policemen… liked.” Sherlock almost spat the word. “And so you immediately offered, or more appropriately, tried to offer that you are not just a policeman, but a former soldier, considering that you asked her if she likes policemen with a leaning stance and a lingering stare, suggesting pride, attraction, and interest. Not to mention the small smile you have as you asked the question, suggesting that you did, in fact, have the soldier card up your sleeve. I’m assuming that her dismissing your advances might have caused your… hostility towards her.”

To his surprise, as soon as he ended, John and Mary are both smiling knowingly. 

“So, I was right. You were jealous that’s why you tried to impress her.” John replied, smirking. The doctor turned to his fiancee, and added, “Sherlock forgot to mention that to ‘dismiss’ me, Irene Adler’s exact words were ‘I like detectives, and detective stories. Brainy is the new sexy.’ So now you probably know why Sherlock’s practically smitten with her.”

Mary’s smile grew wider, shrugging. “To be fair, you really got dumped.”

“I wasn’t… I’m not… smitten… with her.” Sherlock muttered through his teeth.

“Whatever you say, dear.” Mary replied, piling up the invitations she was holding. 

And if Sherlock wasn’t mistaken, she may have deliberately left a blank one just above the drawer where he kept the Vertu. 

“Sherlock, dear, can you come here for a moment?” Mary called from the top of the stairs, as he and John were discussing something with Lestrade by the doorway. The detective gave her a nod and followed. 

“What is it?” he asked casually, oblivious of what is about to happen. 

There was something about Mary’s smile that made his senses tingle, heart thrumming as she gestured him to sit. His brow raised in curiosity when she showed him his own mobile phone. 

“You shouldn’t leave your phone lying around, especially when you have a very naughty text alert.” she teased. 

It was evident that surprise was spread across his face, Mary simply enjoying the moment. Then she read, “Pregnant lady, bronze babies, cloaked man, and Kafka… Guess where I am? IA. IA— I wonder who this is?”

So Irene is in Prague. Safe. Good to know. Still, he wouldn’t say that out loud. Not when the cat’s out of the bag.

Sherlock walked over to Mary, without making eye contact, and asked for his phone with an extended hand. She willingly gave it back to him, crossing her legs as if waiting for an explanation. 

“Oh please, I didn’t do it on purpose! It was displayed on your screen, inviting prying eyes. I didn’t even have to crack your passcode. But I tried it and it was quite easy.” she smugly said, grinning at him. 

“Is it now?” he replied, deadpan, missing a point.

“John told me she was dead, and that you didn’t know because Mycroft wanted to keep it a secret. But you knew they were lying because you saved her, didn’t you?” Mary asked curiously, but Sherlock knew she already had it all figured out. 

“I think the answer to that is quite… obvious.” Sherlock replied. He noticed Mary’s questioning look that made him roll his eyes. 


Mary was obviously trying to restrain herself from smiling. “You still see each other.”

Sherlock sighed. “I don’t understand why you’ve taken intere–”

“When are you going to text her back?” she asked again, grinning. 

“I don’t.” 

“Stop fibbing.”

“I’m not.”

“I know when you’re fibbing.”

Sherlock can’t help but run his fingers through his hair, agitated. Why is Mary pressing on about her?

“One. Zero. One. Three.” Mary mused, playfully rocking back and forth on her seat. 

The detective was suddenly back to being attentive, unsure of what he’s heard. Mary raised her eyebrows at him. “You seem surprised.”

“How did you–?” Sherlock started, but he was interrupted by John entering the flat. 

Sherlock took every opportunity to talk to Mary about the matter at hand, but she dismisses him immediately as soon as he rejects her request to talk about Irene Adler. 

Days passed, then weeks, and every time he’s on his phone, she keeps on whispering, “Make sure you have it on vibrate.” accompanied by a cheeky wink. 

But it was when John went to fix some papers for their clinic that he found himself alone again with Mary’s inquiring eyes. 

“Mary, please, it’s a simple question.” Sherlock hissed. 

“So was mine. I just wanted to know… how things are.” Mary smiled. 

“The passcode…”

“…is the date when you saved her from that terrorist cell. October 13, yes?” she said, an air of pride in her voice. 

“Yes.” Sherlock replied shortly. 

“And… we’ll just leave it at that?” Mary groaned. 

“It’s just a passcode.” he asserted unconvincingly. 

Mary theatrically tapped her pointer finger near her lips as if to exaggerate that she was thinking. “John told me that, to Mycroft’s hesitance in telling the story if I might add, the only reason why you beat Irene Adler was because her passcode was your name.”

Sherlock tried to focus on the wall behind Mary instead of directly looking at her. “I didn’t beat her.” 

Mary nodded. “Because you went out of your way to save her, thus making you feel like you lost.”

The detective didn’t reply. Instead, he handed Mary his phone. 

“What do you want me to do with this?” Mary asked. 

“Any observations?” he asked, voice too quiet that it would seem like he was talking to himself. 

Mary looked at the phone and her smile grew wider. “iPhone 5. So after all these years, you still backup all her messages, and even her text alert, and put it in whichever phone you’re using. The question is, why?”

Sherlock sighed as Mary handed him the phone back. “Everything I will say is a secret. Our secret.”

“Of course, dear.” Mary replied sincerely. 

“I believe John feels very strongly about my relationship with The Woman, so I’d rather he not know.” Sherlock grumbled. 

“I don’t think he hates her, really, he just told me that when you thought she died, he was very worried about… your emotional state. And he couldn’t understand you, her, and you and her. Plus, you did say Irene dumped him easily. Maybe it hurt his ego.” she joked. 

“Even I don’t understand her… And myself when with her.” Sherlock confessed, not meeting Mary in the eyes. 

“Why did you save her?” Mary asked directly, narrowing down the conversation into the most obvious foundation. 

Sherlock’s mind reeled, words and expressions flying through his usually above average train of thought. 

Mary smiled and reached out to touch his folded hands. “Sherlock, admitting that you feel something for her will not make you a lesser being. I hope you know that.”

“It’s never simple with her.” he sighed. “She’s too clever, too cunning, too dangerous, too inviting, too… just too much everything. And I can’t get her out of my head. It can be irritating at times. Prancing into my Mind Palace even in the middle of cases. And what’s more frustrating is I don’t want to… stop thinking about her, I mean… Oh, will you stop looking so happy? It’s not like I just confessed a murder, or a solution to a decade-long case.”

“But you did speak out your heart. Look, Sherlock, I’m not asking you to try and have what John I and have with her. I know that’s what you’re worried about. I can see that you feel restrained by the idea of ‘settling down with The Woman’ and that’s not what I’m telling you.” Mary explained. 

“Then what exactly are you telling me?” Sherlock asked. 

“I’m simply letting you know that it’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. Live out the adventure. Play the game. Gamble. Fall.” 

Sherlock studied every word that escaped Mary’s lips. “You can be difficult at times, Mary Morstan.”

She grinned. “Made you think, didn’t it?”

For the first time since they started the conversation, Sherlock smiled. “I believe you and her will get along very well.”

Mary’s smile grew. “So you’ll let me meet her?”

The smile on Sherlock’s face disappeared quickly. “No.”

Pouting, she playfully punched him in the arm. “Why not?”

“It’ll be too chaotic.” 

“Oh, please! It’ll be fun!” Mary insisted. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “No. And besides, she’s… she’s currently halfway across the world so contain yourself… Last night, she told me she’s in Phuket.”

A scheming glint was evident on Mary’s eyes. “You’ll go, wouldn’t you? Oh, just take me. We won’t take long.”

“Your wedding is in a week.” 

“John wouldn’t know! We’ll plan it out. We can do it right now!” 

Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose, a sudden realisation hitting him. “Wait, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“What question?” Mary asked. 

“The passcode. How did you know?” 

Mary chuckled, fumbling with her phone before giving a reply. “John said that you found out she wasn’t really dead around New Year. Then met her again, here, 6 months later. She stayed for a day, had you crack the code, then basically causing chaos and you saving the day within those 24 hours. 

Then John said Mycroft went to meet him during the wettest season of the year, so I assumed mid-November to December, and the claim was that Irene Adler was captured and ‘killed’ in Karachi a couple of months before that. Can be September or October but I chose the latter because the chances are slightly higher. 

After that I figured it was a weekend, considering that John was admittedly on a dating spree during weekends at the time, giving you enough opportunity to sneak out and have your little escapade.”

“I actually asked John to gather evidence for a triple murder in Warwick and even advised that he stayed there overnight in case I need anything else. He seemed pleased with the idea.” Sherlock recalled. “Still, great deduction.”

Mary looked pleased. “Can’t always be too accurate.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement. And just when he thought the conversation has come to a close, Mary’s face lit up once more as she looked up to him.  

The detective’s eyes narrowed as he tried to read into Mary’s expression, but she left him no more time to guess as she showed him her phone screen. 

“Pack your bags, Sherlock. We’re going to Thailand.”

how you get the boy - one

“You usually sleep with more than one girl at the same time?”

“What?” His face mirrored my shocked expression and he began shaking his head. “No, Jesus, no.”

read below // story page

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  • <p> <b><p></b> <b>Baz:</b> There are 21 letters in the alphabet, right?<p/><b>Simon:</b> *smiling because he knows where Baz is going* No, there are 26.<p/><b>Baz:</b> Oh, I must have forgotten about I M A Q T...<p/><b>Simon:</b> <p/><b>Baz:</b> <p/><b>Simon:</b> I'm done with you...<p/></p><p/></p>
My Love | Part II

didn’t think that this post would gather that much attention bc i totally wasn’t planning much for it. but since it did, here’s the continuation. hopefully it isn’t too confusing. my ask is open if u wanna drop by. warning: this is pretty long, hence the cut, so strap yourselves in. 

“She had this innocence to her,” He began, his eyes fluttering to a shut, “She was so different from any other person that I had ever met.”

“Before I knew it, I was madly in love with her. There was not a single shred of doubt in my mind of how much I wanted her. Of how much I loved her.” He continued, voice pained, “I loved her more than anything.”

If his eyes were open, you would have seen the pain and hurt. He didn’t say anything else, but you felt his tense body beside you. Hearing him talk about his love for Rika hurt more than you thought it would. Why did you think this was such a good idea in the first place? You suddenly regretted ever bringing her up, stomach curling. He continued to talk about her with so much love and adoration, trying to conceal his shaking and cracking voice to the best of his abilities. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He deserved more. More love and care and patience and time to heal. You vowed to give him just that.

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Two Princes (Part 4)

Warnings: None, I guess a bit of angst?

Originally posted by fl0wsb0thways

Originally posted by whenimaunicorn

Weeks passed by and you were conquering more and more of the lands ahead of you, falling even deeper in love with Ivar and being around Hvitserk felt more and more comfortable. Until one day a messenger arrived from the North. He insisted to talk to Ivar alone and after some arguing you agreed. You entered the tent after he had left and saw Ivar in great distress, breathing heavy and his eyes seemed teary and red. ‘Ivar, what news did he bring?  Seeing you like this scares me’ you started rushing over to his side ‘Stay away’ he hissed through his teeth. ‘What’ you were utterly confused 'You heard me, stay away’ 'Ivar what is wrong, tell me’ 'Can you not listen woman, I need to be alone. Stay away from me’ you could tell the words pained him as much as you but you didn’t know why he was behaving like that. You decided it was best to just let him be for a while and sort his thoughts and talk to him later when things had calmed. But Ivar kept avoiding you all day and you had no chance to approach him. In the afternoon word spread around camp that a big feast was planned and unexpected but important guests were arriving. You had yet had no chance to talk to Ivar but were determined to talk to him during the feast.

The feast took place in  the castle of York that had become your main camp now and the Great Hall was decorated and filled with wine, mead and food. You had rarely seen such a sight and wondered who this effort might be done for. You could see Ivar sitting at the head of the largest table and approached the seat next to him, since this had been your place for months now. But before you could reach the table you were blocked by Ivar’s guard, the guard you had helped to choose 'Horik, let me pass, what are you doing?’ 'I can’t let you get to Ivar, not tonight. He ordered me to keep you away from him’ 'This is ridiculous, let me talk to him, you know I belong at his side’ 'I am sorry, but I have to obey his orders. Just sit somewhere else  Skadi, just for tonight.’ he replied gently. You did not want to cause more of a scene then you had already cause by being blocked by Ivar’s guard so you stared at him angrily and then sat beside Hvitserk at one of the smaller tables. 'What is going on Hvitserk, what news did the messanger bring?’ 'I have no idea, I am as confused as you are’. Ivar was avoiding your stare and didn’t look at you once. You were confused and felt a deep pain within yourself of him being so cold so sudden, when you had been so close for the last months. How could he not trust you, how could he not let you know what was happening? At first you were pissed, now you were deeply hurt, thoughts running through your mind.

After a short while Ivar stood up and raised his voice 'When my father was killed by the Christian king, my brothers and I raised the Great Heathen Army to seek revenge and revenge is what we got. We would not have been able to achieve this victory without our allies and the alliances we made. Today I am more than honored to stay true to one alliance I made before we took off for England. Please welcome our guest of honor King Cnut and his daughter Freydis, my soon to be wife.’ You had all risen when Ivar started his speech and now your legs gave in and you sank back to your seat. You stared into the room without any expression on your face, shocked and unable to process what you had just heard. Ivar would be marrying a princess, for an alliance he had made long before he met you. Now those debts from the past have caught up. 'Skadi, look at me’ Hvitserk said worried while holding your face in his hands. 'You can not let the King see your emotions, you can not let him know that you and Ivar have feelings for another. He would have you killed if he thought there was a chance Ivar was being unfaithful.’ Hvitserk’s word brought you back to your senses. Knowing he was right. It was dangerous to let the King know how you felt and how Ivar felt. He must think that Ivar honored his promise and instead he had been falling for another woman. How could he have brought you in this situation? How could he not know that a debt must always be paid? Fury was starting to replace the shock, anger over the way that Ivar had led you on, knowing he promised to wed another and yet starting a romance with you. But you welcomed the anger for it was clearing you mind and letting you focus. You looked over to Ivar and saw that he was greeting the King and his daughter. She was pretty but dull and you could see that she tried to stay away as far as possible from Ivar, avoiding his touch. She did not seem pleased that her father married her off to a cripple. She had only seen a glimpse of Ivar and had no idea who he really was, only seeing his outside and weakness.

You should have been happy that she was avoiding him but it made you even angrier, that she didn’t realize what kind of man was standing infront of her. A man that you were loving so deeply that you were about to jump across the tables to kill her. Hvitserk saw how you hand was tightening around one of the knifes on the table and slowly took it out of your hand. Forming a soundless 'No’ with his mouth. The feast was torture, you had to watch your lover entertain a woman who was disgusted by him and act as if nothing was wrong. The only way you were making it through this night was be getting as drunk as possible. So you started to drink as much wine as you could find. Hvitserk didn’t stop you, knowing that this was your only comfort. 'So you are the famous Skadi, Ivar’s right hand, am I right?’ you heard a voice from behind. The King had made his rounds around the room and now he was standing behind you. You turned around to face him 'Yes that is correct’ you said calmly. 'So you must be close to Ivar then?’ he continued 'We have fought many battles’ 'Is that all? He must be blind to not see your beauty.’ You were taken off guard by his direct approach and luckily  Hvitserk chimed in saying 'Oh he might have noticed her beauty, but what good would it be when she is mine? And I would not share her with anyone, not even my brother’ he tried to laugh and lift the mood. 'Aah so you two are..’ 'Yes’ Hvitserk interrupted him and placed his hand on my shoulder. Knowing that it was the smartest thing to do I grabbed his hand and interwined my fingers with his. The King seemed pleased with what he saw and left the table to join another group. Our fingers were still interwined when I turned around to face Hvitserk 'Thank you, I wasn’t able to reply so quickly’ 'Of course, I would do anything to keep you safe’ he said while deeply looking into your eyes. 'I should better go to my tent, I have had a lot to drink and I don’t want to cause a scene later’. 'Should I take you?’ 'No I am fine to walk be myself but thank you’.

You were lying in awake in your bed for the most of the night, hoping that Ivar had a chance to sneak away and talk to you. You were certain he must be desperate to explain himself to you. You were already ready to forgive him and rather move on and find a way out of this situation, in the best case without violence. King Cnut had a mighty army and displeasing him or breaking an alliance wasn’t smart. But no one came to your room that night and you drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

In the morning Ivar had called for a council meeting and you joined him, the rest of the leaders and of course King Cnut in the Great Hall. He was acting completely normal around you but made sure to threat you like any other man in the room. Not touching you, not looking at you for too long. Thankfully the other men were loyal to you and did not give away your relation to Ivar to King Cnut. As long as the King was around there was no way in approaching Ivar, he was always busy with the princess or her father and you had spent days trying to talk to him in private.

Finally you had the chance to be alone with him after a council meeting. 'Ivar’ you said longingly and walked over to where he sat. Kneeling infront of him and hugging him tightly. He did not move, and when you kissed him his lips stayed still. 'Ivar we are alone you don’t have to be afraid. And I forgive you, I know you did not lead me on, you must have forgotten about your promise to the King or had hoped to get out of it, right?’ 'No, I had never forgotten about it but I was not leading you on either. You were good to pass the time until princess Freydis arrived, nothing more. You know I desire fame above all else, did you think I would marry you? A shieldmaiden? I want to achieve greatness and I need a kingdom to do so. One part I will build myself the other I will gain by marriage.’ he said coldly and staring passed you. 'Ivar.. what. This is not you’ you stuttered. 'I know this is not you, what has happened. You can not be serious’ your eyes started to fill with tears as his harsh words showed his effect. 'It is me sitting infront of you, is it not. So it is me talking to you and now I  want you to leave and stay away from me for good’ he said and this time he looked right into your eyes. You were shocked by the cold tone in his voice , slowly standing up infront of him, still shocked by his hurtful ways you slapped him hard across his face.  You were furious at what he said. 'Don’t worry about me staying away from you. I hate you Ivar Lothbrok and my only comfort is to see how disgusted your princess is of you. Seems like she can see you for who you really are more than I ever could’ you spat and left the room without looking back.

You were running out to one of the corridors and could feel the tears run down your face. You couldn’t hold them in any more. Soon slowing your walk and sinking down to your knees, sobbing uncontrollably. You still couldn’t believe how Ivar had changed ever since the alliance had been put in motion. You wanted to believe that this was not really how he felt, that this was just to protect you. But his cold stare while he had said his hurtful words made you believe he did in fact only care for fame and his own success. You were feeling weak and sick and it cost you all of your strength to get up and go to your room. Falling onto the bed and drifting off to sleep, being exhausted from the pain you felt inside.

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