malfoys-demigod

[malfoys-demigod]

BOY MEETS WORLD •ERIC MATTHEWS x READER

Not my best work but bare with me :)

Being Shawn Hunter’s twin meant you were apart of the iconic trio that recked havoc on Mr Feenys class, every grade for your entire school life. You were able to join in on the master pranks. Or travel to Pittsburgh with Topanga when her parents moved. It also meant the Matthews were very aware of you tight knit friendship.

Amy adored you, almost as her own child. Seeing as you and your twin had half a father and your mother picked and chose when she would stay home. You went to Amy for most thing. First dates. Periods. Or when Mr Turner and Shawn were unbarable after he took them in.

Her favourite one however, was your first crush. It was amusing when Amy noticed how one day you would arrive with curled hair, the next with darken eyebrows. How you would show up to “ask Cory to hang out.” Playing dumb when Alan explained Cory was with Shawn. But of course you knew that. It was clear when you would stay for dinner and laugh just the littlest louder when Eric would joke.

So it was no shock when you told Amy. She explained it would fade. ‘It was just a 6th grade crush” That lasted until 8tj grade. When the Hunters bacame known for their flirting and two week relationships. The crush was pushed to the back of your memory.

That was until college rolled around and life got stressful. Shawn was a loose cannon corpanga we’re now legalising their wedding. And the Matthews were having a baby. The biggest change was the death of your father. It rocked Shawn and Jack a lot more than you. Yet you had Amy keeping you sane.

A week after you dad and passed. Shawn and Cory were road tripping, Jack was a mess, and you wanted to keep busy. So you babysat. You offered to supervise Morgan and a few of her friends while her parents went to their ultrasound for the newest member. She was In her room, while you were in the kitchen catching up on some of Feenys papers. He had assured there was no rush, but you needed to keep busy.

“Feen-eh!” You beard from the garden. You knew it was Eric. Deciding to answer Eric’s calls you appeared at the back door, smiling lightly. “He’s not home.” You cut of his next attempt of the ‘Feeny call.’

He whipped around, “Jack and Rachel kissed.” He smiled but it wasn’t a happy one like he tried to hold, so you nodded for him to follow, and sat on the edge of the kitchen table. “I lost.” He shrugged.

You mimicked him. “So. You’re Eric Matthews. You’ll move on.” You recalled the days he had a new girl every week. He sighed leaning against the island.

“Why is it every girl I want. Doesn’t want me?” He moped. You laughed at him.

“It happens to all of us.” His head shot up and scoffed at you. “It’s true.” You smiled.

“Oh yeah. You know you’re gorgeous.” It made your heart flutter. Never having heard such a compliment.

“You think so?”

“Yeah! Everyone knows the Hunter Twins are hot.”

Oh.

-

After that encounter, you wanted to be known more than a Hunter twin. You wanted Eric to notice you as more than that. So you hung around more. You sat with him while Josh was at the hospital. You helped him move out of his apartment after Jack and Rachel became a couple.

You got closer. Tommy now expected you as well as Eric. No one ever saw Eric without a smile. So you weren’t either.

“Are you going to adopt me? Or not?” Tommy asked softly, and you lowered you pizza shocked by his question, you sat with Eric and his parents while they argued what was wrong or right. “See YN understands.” And you did. You loved Tommy just as much. But the family could give him more.

So you sat on the couch listening to Eric break not only his heart. But Tommy’s too. You walked him out after he closed the door gently. Leading him to his car. When all he did was sigh you glanced at him to see him with a sad smile.

“He doesn’t like me,” You wrapped my arm around his shoulder and smiled.

“If it helps I like you.” A lot. You said, he laughed and thanked you. “You’ll find someone, a lovely girl and you’ll settle and have all the kids you want, and one day Tommy.” You nodded to the building. “Will thank you.” You tried to be supportive but it was a strange thing comforting Eric. Who rarely had anything less than a smile.

“I have to get a girl first.” He joked. Still fiddling with his fingers.

“You will!” He laughed and looked at you. Yet you weren’t looking back. He watched as you smiled and fixed your hair. Not listening to what you were saying just looking. “I mean sixth grade me tonight you were everything. If only we were the same age.” You joked. He looked shocked and amused.

“Really?” You nodded. “Huh? I never knew.”

“It was just a 6th grade crush.” You laughed.

It became quiet, you glanced around. Unaware of the eyes on you. Eric knew you were pretty. Heck the whole of Philly did! Yet right then you were more than pretty. Your hair was messy but perfects, your eyes tired. Probably from school and the stress of having half a brother, and had your smile always made your eyes sparkle like that? He couldn’t help but admire his brother best friend. It seemed wrong.

When your head finally turned and wow, those eyes - “Have you always been this beautiful?” He spouted out. You were closer now. He could feel your breath fan his face when you laughed at his outburst. “No, seriously.” Your heart quickened when his hand reached up to cup your cheek.

He was not one to hesitate, but you had him doubting everything. “Can I-“ you beat him too it, planting you lips onto his for no more than 2 seconds. Pulling back worried of misreading the situation. “Shawn and Cory are gonna kill me.” He mumbled before leaning in for another. Laughing into eachothers mouths.

So much for a 6th grade crush.

[malfoys-demigod]

LOVEEEEE 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Ocean's Eleven

CONFIDENCE BOOST: Linus Caldwell x fem!reader

Summary: Rusty left the last advice unfinished, seemingly making Linus both nervous and annoyed. Luckily she's there to help.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

After a message reminded me how obsessed I've been with the Ocean's men, I started to rewatch the movies - and it once again gave me some inspiration, ending my writers block. By the time I'm done with the rewatch, hopefully more stories will come :)

Warnings: only a few swear words, but other than that nothing at all

•••

"Where do you put your hands?" both her and Rusty followed Linus' movements with their eyes as he tried to hold the briefcase with both hands. "No good."

She leaned back on the sofa she was sitting on, realizing this won't be a short conversation. She might as well get herself comfortable and watch as Linus learns - it's as entertaining for her as it is annoying and stressful for him. She might as well lean back and enjoy it as long as it's not her turn to move.

"Don't touch your tie. Look at me." Linus did as he was told so. "Okay, I ask you a question 'you have to think of an answer, where do you look?"

Linus looked down. It wasn't the right move.

"No good." Rusty said and for a moment their eyes met - she tilted her head, trying to silently communicate with him like they learned to do so. Don't be that hard on him - her eyes said. "You look down, they know you're lying..." Linus looked up and she smiled - that wasn't right either. "...and up, they know you don't know the truth."

Linus' eyes settled on Rusty once again as he sighed both from the nerves and slight annoyance.

"Don't use seven words when four'll do. Don't shift your weight," Rusty pointed out after Linus did that. "look always at your mark, but don't stare. Be specific but not memorable, be funny but don't make him laugh. He's gotta like you and then forget you the moment you left his side." Rusty's expression changed as he continued: "And for God's sake, whatever you do, don't - under any circumstances-"

"Russ!" Livingston's voice came suddenly from the other room, making all three of them look that way.

"Yeah?" Rusty shouted back.

"Can you take a look at this?"

"Sure!" and just like that he got up and left the room, leaving the unfinished sentence hanging.

Linus looked after him, not being able to decide if he should speak up or not and seemingly he couldn't decide what to say if he speaks up either. His mind was full of the instructions Rusty told him, trying to process them in the remaining minutes and then also remember all of them.

"Don't do what?" the question finally came out in a mixture of confusion, stress and annoyance.

Linus finally fully turned to look at her and she gave him a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, he went through that with me on my first heist as well."

"And how did it go?" he sounded hopeful.

"It was Danny's plan, how do you think it went?" she looked up at him, testing, seeing what he'll say, seeing where his trust lies.

"Good?" it sounded more as a question than an answer.

She chuckled as she stood up, walking up to him, seeing if everything about his clothes are alright.

"Great." she answered as she adjusted his tie, straightening it. "I even got a necklace on the way out."

Finally, through the mixture of emotions what fell on him after Danny was put in a corner, Linus gave her a weak smile. She returned it, doing her best to boost his confidence.

He didn't really have a reason to worry or have fears about failure. He was good at what he was doing. He could pickpocket anyone easily, without anyone noticing. She saw it with her own eyes, she was there with Danny when he recruited him. And that last pull with the wallet was fantastic - unnoticeable even by her.

"You have nothing to worry about, really. You've got this." she put hands on his shoulders and his eyes followed her movements through the glasses he wore. "You were doing just fine without Rusty's speech. He gives it to everyone, believe me. This is your first heist with them, they'll give you a speech and test how good you are."

"Test?" he questioned.

"Yeah. Don't be surprised when they suddenly pop up somewhere when you're supposed to be alone. At least that's what they did with me."

She let go of him and took a step back, looking at him once again - he looked good and not just as a rookie who worked for the Nevada Gaming Commision, but as Linus himself. He looked cute, especially with those glasses and that tie. She got used to the striped shirts and jackets, but this was something new altogether. And he made it work.

"Alright, 'you want my advice?" she asked, hoping that he does.

He nodded - maybe a bit too quickly. The glasses almost fell off, he had to straighten them.

"Just don't stress it. I know you're good, I saw it with my own eyes and believe me, you wouldn't be here if Danny thought you weren't skilled." he was very close to blushing at the compliment and she almost grinned at that. "All Rusty tried to help you with was your acting, but the only thing that matters is for you to stay calm and in character. And your character has to be pitiful, someone Benedict could walk over, someone who's young and forgettable. You can't be smarter than him, funnier than him or even braver than him. 'You understand?"

He nodded - she continued. "You've got this, I believe in you."

That seemed to do the trick - or a trick at least. What she said made him blush, it was noticeable this time around and even his glasses couldn't hide it.

She took a step toward him again to adjust his glasses even if they couldn't have been any straighter. She felt like she needed that excuse to be closer to him than she was and to save that image of Linus in those clothes, blushing the best she could.

"And what shouldn't I do?" he asked after he swallowed.

"Oh, just don't leave without an excuse and don't leave unfinished sentences hang in the air. If it's a joke it's fine, it'd fit the guy you're playing, but otherwise it's a no." she let her arms fall beside her body, but she didn't take a step back this time. "So, 'everything clear now?"

"Yeah, thanks." it wasn't more than a whisper, but she heard it.

"No problem. You can come to me anytime."

The conversation died down after that, but neither of them moved. She took those short moments to really take a good look at him, at his expressions - at every corner of his face, no matter how small. She couldn't find a single mistake there, not a scar, not a wrinkle she wouldn't like. Nothing was there what could've made him worried. She found him flawless - she found him a sweetheart and a very cute one.

"You're a sweetheart, you know?" she said, saying what she thought out loud - as she noticed Saul on the hallway behind Linus, probably on his way out. They don't have much time left. "The others aren't. They're either assholes sometimes for jokes or they get sloppy - but you're neither of those."

"You're not like them either."

"Hell no, I'm much younger thank you very much." she said jokingly, making him chuckle and with that his nervousness disappeared.

"Yeah, that too."

"See? You have nothing to worry about. You're too loveable to run into any sorts of trouble." she explained with a loving smile. "And I'll be around too."

The clock was ticking - Linus should get going and she should get ready, but the conversation was too interesting to leave it hanging.

"Yeah, you'll be the best thing around."

"Better than those millions underground?" she asked with a giggle, saying it as a joke and nothing more, but at his answer it was her turn to blush.

"Definitely."

She swallowed - all the before-heist confidence disappeared from her and she was back on square one, where Linus was.

"We'll talk after, right?"

She tilted her head at the question, finding it cute - it still kept the blush on her face.

"Of course. You can buy me a coffee from those millions if you want to."

And he wanted to. She could see it on his face, in his eyes and that thought made her heart flutter.

"Right, you should get going." her voice was weaker than usual.

"Yeah."

"I believe in you, Linus."

They didn't kiss - it wasn't the right moment and it would've been too soon for that. But she kissed his cheek for good luck - making him blush once more - before he left.

It was quick, but meaningful and she looked him in the eyes as she pulled back. See you after the heist.

Right as she was on her way to her room to put on the dress she needed for her role, her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she saw Rusty on the small hallway. She looked at him for a second, and after his expression told her everything she had to know, she continued to move.

But as she walked past him she said: "You had a bet going, didn't you?"

"Forty bucks said you'd make the first move."

She stopped and turned to look at him, she smiled even if she was annoyed a little. But then again who could've expected them to not gamble when they're about to rob a casino?

"Fifty-fifty, right?"

"No, you'll only get thirty percent. It was way too cheesy to listen to."

She took the money and pocketed it quickly.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Danny knew since the beginning." Rusty aswered, leaving her as he walked away.

She stood there, trying to figure out what gave it away to Danny before she even realised that she found Linus cute.

"It was the wallet." she whispered to herself, nodding. "Yeah, it was definitely the pull with the wallet."

[malfoys-demigod]

Oh Pedrito…

[malfoys-demigod]

Left Behind

Hello love, can you do a Mark Watney x Reader, where you two get stuck on Mars together and Mark confesses his feeling for you.

A/N- Here you go, hope you enjoy it!

—

The storm that hit had been way above what the HAB and MAV would have been able to handle. Lewis called for an emergency evacuation and everyone instantly went to work, you remembered all the training you had done for this but you never thought it would happen.

Outside the strength of the storm was more than you had expected, sending all of you flying back when Lewis opened the airlock. The next few minutes were the longest and shortest of your life. One second you could hear Mark talking behind you through the comms the next he was gone, hit by the communications dish and sent out of sight. You could barely see your hand in front of your face but you tried desperately to look through the sand in the air to try and find him.

The whole team spread out to find his body, you knew he must have been carried quite far so you did you best to walk as fast as you could against the current of the storm. “Y/L/N, get back to the MAV. Now,” Lewis ordered.

“I’ve got to be close to him,” you replied as tears streamed down your face.

“Commander we’re tipping, I can only hold on for another minute,” you heard Martinez and dread set in your stomach. You were well over a minutes distance from the MAV with how slow the storm made you travel.

“Commander go, I won’t make it back in time. You guys need to leave without me,” you swallowed.

Numerous yells of protest came from all your crew mates, “I mean it,” you said strongly, “I won’t make it back, You have less than a minute and all of you shouldn’t die for me. Go.”

There was silence, everyone knew that you would get left behind and nobody seemed able to stomach it. “Go,” you repeated.

Through the comms you could hear Lewis board and reluctantly give permission to launch. Even through the sand storm you could see the light from the launch as it ascended out of the atmosphere. The wind knocked you down to the floor and you took a moment to regain your breathing and forced yourself to stand up against the storm and continue looking for Mark.

His bio monitor had sensed a breach and alerted the team before he went offline, there was no chance he was still alive. But you owed it to him to find his body and not leave it out in the storm.

You looked for close to half an hour before you gave up, it was hard to move against the wind current and there was so much space you were leaving unchecked in your limited visibility. Turning back you began to make your way back to the HAB and let a steady flow of tears fall down your cheeks, Mark was dead and you let your team go without you.

That night back in the HAB you cried yourself to sleep, you had no idea what you would do with Mark’s body and you had no way to talk to the crew you had forced to leave you behind. You had doomed yourself to die on Mars.

—

When Mark woke up he blearily looked over across the Martian desert and saw that the MAV was missing. Of course that meant he was shit out of look but it meant that the crew had gotten to safety, at least you were safe. Back on Earth you had been his best friend, he was always with you and he was so glad when you both got accepted onto the crew. On the journey here he had realised that he had developed feelings for you, even if he never got to see you again at least he knew you were going home and he could look at the pictures of you in the HAB.

Mark made his way in pain back to the HAB and made his way through the airlock. You had been up for a few hours and when you heard the airlock you froze, you were meant to be alone. Unless there was suddenly intelligent life on Mars that could work the airlock then the only other option was, “Mark,” you breathed.

You raced through the HAB and arrived at the airlock just as Mark opened the door into the HAB. “Mark?” you asked, dumbfounded, “How are you alive?”

“My blood sealed the breach,” Mark explained casually then did a double take when it sunk in that you were here. “Why the hell are you here?” he yelled, wincing when the action pulled at the wound in his side.

“We were looking for you in the storm. I was too far out and the MAV was going to tip so I told them to go,” you told him and flashed him a false smile.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Mark shook his head, he was supposed to be the only one left here. He got hit and now it was his fault that you got left behind too, you shouldn’t have to die on Mars. You had so much more to accomplish.

“It’s alright,” you shrugged. “That looks pretty nasty,” you gestured to the antenna sticking out of his side, “Let’s get it all sorted.”

You led Mark through the HAB and pulled out the medical equipment and began to clean up his wound. Honestly, you didn’t know how you felt about Mark being alive. You had had a crush on the guy for months and you were overwhelmed by how happy you were that he was alive, but now that there was two of you alive the rations would only last half as long and give you less time to figure something out. Mark was kind of a genius though so there was some hope.

—

A few months later and everything didn’t seem to be so bad. You had turned all available floor space in the HAB into a potato farm, you had modified the rover to go further (well, Mark had. You watched), and you even had a plan to go get Pathfinder.

At night you shared a bunk purely to conserve power lost on heating so it could be used on stuff like the water reclaimer, each night your heart beat out of your chest as you snuggled into Mark’s side and he wrapped his arms around you to keep you close.

Tomorrow Mark would go get Pathfinder whilst you stayed and took care of equipment checks and whatnot at the HAB. You closed your eyes and focussed on the sound of his heartbeat in his chest. The journey would last over a month and so many things could go wrong and you wouldn’t even know, for all you knew this would be the last night you spent with Mark.

“You better be careful out there,” you whispered warningly.

“I will,” Mark promised.

“I mean it,” you said seriously, opening your eyes and tilting your head up to look at his face which was only a few inches away, “We’ve made it this far. You can’t do anything stupid or reckless.”

“Okay,” Mark whispered quietly, looking deep into your eyes.

The rest of the world faded away and in that moment all you could see was Mark, you could feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips and you were sure he could hear yours beating just as fast. Your breath caught in your throat as Mark tentatively leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours. When he received no resistance he kissed you firmly, you let your eyes slip close as you kissed him back and leaned into him.

After a minute you pulled away for air panting, Mark rested your foreheads together, “I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted with a small laugh.

Your face pulled into a wide grin, “Me too.”

—

Mark made the journey to Pathfinder safely there and back and you got back in contact with NASA. Due to the relay time neither of you had been outside at the same when they took pictures of the signs you had made. This meant NASA thought Mark was still dead and it was just you alive still until they linked up the Rover. It had been sort of hilarious when NASA questioned why you were typing ‘we’ and you told them Mark was alive and they flooded you with a whole bunch of questions.

All that aside you and Mark made it. Thankfully when the airlock blew both of you had been in space suits and yours had not been punctured, living with Mark in the Rover for the journey to Ares IIII had been both hell in the small living conditions but also meant a lot of cuddling to get comfy in the tiny space.

The rescue had been emotional as anything. You had been panicked out of your mind when Mark passed out from the serious g, you had fared a bit better than him due to your smaller size but you were still scared out of your mind.

ON board again the team apologised for leaving you both behind, you and Mark brushed it off and told them it was the right thing to do. You had been put on bed rest for the first few weeks, Marks bed had been next to yours so after half a night alone he crawled in next to you. So Beck was the first one to know about your relationship.

By default next in line was Beth, she had nodded with a smile and said she would keep your secret.

Vogel found out next when he walked in on you making out in the lab, he walked out whilst muttering in German. You had no idea what he had said but you were thankful he hadn’t gone to tell Lewis, at least you didn’t think he had considering you and Mark hadn’t been thrown out of the airlock.

Martinez was next to know when he overheard you talking to Beth and Beck about it. He had not been so quiet and promptly yelled out, “Y/N and Watney! How am I the last to know about this.���

Commander Lewis heard this from across the room.

That talk had been awkward as all hell but she let it slide, saying that after leaving you behind on Mars the two of you deserved a little bit of comfort from each other. You and Mark knew not to push those boundaries and kept your relationship behind closed doors.

—

Back on Earth everything slowed down and it felt almost surreal. You and Mark were able to live out an ordinary life without having to fear that your house would implode on you. Both of you kept working for NASA, Mark taught recruits in the classroom whilst you led them through all the physical aspects of it.

You moved in together and had been living together for a few years now, you were at home finishing up cooking dinner when you heard Mark come home. “I’m in the kitchen,” you yelled.

You heard him walk through but his footsteps stopped and you didn’t feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind like you were used to. “Mark?” you turned around and stopped short when you saw him down on one knee and holding out a ring box.

“Y/N, you are my best friend in the whole world,” Mark started.

“Oh my god,” you breathed.

“I would never had been able to survive on Mars without you and I know I couldn’t even now. I love you so much, so would you make me the happiest person in the world and marry me?”

“Yes, yes, a million times yes,” you grinned and flung yourself at him and kissing him hard. You smiled into the kiss and pulled back so he could slip the ring onto your finger then kissed him again as happy tears streamed down your cheeks and his.

***

A/N- I got a bit carried away but let me know what you think! Requests are open <3

[malfoys-demigod]

Two-Body Problem

Mark Watney x reader

Grad School AU, (academic) rivals to ??????

No use of pronouns or y/n

[Masterlist]

Not Beta-read, we die like Spirit and Opportunity.

CW: networking, Inaccurate depictions of organic chemistry, probably riddled with typos, but that's all I can think of. Please please please let me know if I missed anything and I'll add it to the top of the list

The reader and Mark are both PhD candidates at Northwestern and both happen to be GTAs for an o-chem/bio-chemistry class. They schedule and meet up on neutral ground(a library) to get some grading done together and some unexpected feelings creep in.

AN: This is the first fanfic I've ever written; critique is always welcome and encouraged, but, uh, perhaps manage your expectations? Idk 😅 I'm not the best when it comes to creative writing, but there's a criminally low amount of fic for The Martian and even fewer fic centered around Mark imo. I might continue this into something more, if there's demand and if I've the energy and motivation 🤷🏾

Alright, I'll stop trying to lamp-shade; Enjoy, and thanks for taking the time out of your day to read this 💚💚💚

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Wanna meet up to put a dent in the pile of grading I know you also have? 

The two of you exchanged numbers at the beginning of fall quarter out of politeness, but it was still surprising to see the notification from Mark’s text. 

Leaning back in your chair, you considered your options, the soft sensor schematic in front of you now fully abandoned after an hour of rearranging thermocouples and resistors trying to alleviate a stubborn inductive noise problem.

Mark had been a thorn in your proverbial side since the day you met him; well, night, to be exact—your blood begins to boil at the memory. You were engaged in cordial and calculated banter with a researcher working in a lab you were gunning for before being interrupted by someone exclaiming “Dr. Hernandez!” to your left. You blinked and the fragile connection you just began to form had crumbled as the attention of the faculty member in question whirled to the side and greeted a stocky and stubbly man who Dr. Hernandez introduced to you as “Mark Watney, one of my PhD students!” This confused you since his name tag clearly said, Plant Bio and Conservation and this was a mixer in the electrical and computer engineering department; “I’m working with him and a faculty member in my own department on developing novel ways of monitoring soil properties in areas in Illinois hardest hit by industrial runoff” Mark says with a smile that oozes levels of confidence and hubris only considerable privilege can spawn. He gives you a quick glance before saying, “which actually reminds me-” and steering Dr. Hernandez away from you. Now, this certainly stung, but it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t get over. No, what made this a problem was Mark’s uncanny ability to draw the room’s attention to him and his work, making it a just a tad difficult to properly network without having to entertain talk and conversation surrounding the department’s charismatic new wunderkind apparent. This combined with quite publicly challenging a design of yours for a class you two shared had firmly placed Mark in your list of worst enemies. Which, admittedly, might be a bit dramatic, but after some quippy and well worded critiques and suggestions to optimize a C++ script he’d written for the same class it seemed you’d made your way onto his hit list too, if department gossip had any veracity to it—so at least the feeling was mutual.

Which brings you back to your confusion at this new development in your communication with him; Mark hadn’t exactly jumped for joy when, in some sick reversal of the infamous two-body problem, the two of you got hired as TAs for the same introductory o-chem class. You exchanged numbers, but neither reached out to the other to host joint office hours, or to work together to get through the ever-growing pile of completed homework assignments that you two need to finish grading—in fact, this is the first time either of you texted the other since the first text you sent confirming your number as yours. Staring at your phone’s screen you weighed the pros and cons of saying yes; on the one hand, it’ll help the two of you get ahead on the imposing pile of work that had accumulated just in the first 2 and a half weeks of the quarter. On the other hand, it meant that you’d have to breathe the same air as your infuriatingly handsome nemesis for longer than you were required to. Not that he was your type. Absolutely not. He just… had an objectively strong jawline…. Choosing not to think too hard about that and reasoning that getting grading done was more important than your pride, you typed out a curt sure. See you at Galter in an hour? And waited for his equally as curt sounds good before getting up to go change out of your comfy, at-home garb and head out the door with your half of the grading pile and your laptop tucked away into your backpack.

You’re chewing the last bite of a pop tart you got, realizing you unfortunately forgot to eat dinner before leaving, and scrolling through Instagram when Mark walks through the glass doors leading into the Galter Health Sciences Library. Under a mild windbreaker, he’s wearing what’s presumably a band t-shirt but with a worn-out and unrecognizable logo tucked into his cuffed light wash jeans. He"s carrying a clearly well-loved canvas satchel with a Cubs patch sewn onto the front. His hair was artfully tousled as he ran a hand through it while he looked for you in the spattering of students who occupied the library at minutes to 9 on a Friday evening. When his eyes finally land on you, he looks taken aback, the carefree look wiped off his face for a moment before he smirks at you through an obviously clenched jaw. “Glad you didn’t decide to stand me up. You reserve a conference room?” You returned his tension-filled smirk with a smile resembling a sneer and responded, “Of course. We’re on the second floor.” You stood up from your seat and started walking in the direction of the staircase, looking behind you to make sure he was following you only to find him in the middle of a light jog to position himself on your right side.

“So, how’s the dissertation writing going?” he asks over his shoulder. Scoffing, you respond with an incredulous “How’s yours?”, hoping he pics up on your clear annoyance at being asked that dreaded question yet again. Wincing at your retort of a question, he concedes with a “Fair enough” And the two of you are plunged back into the awkward silence that permeates the sparsely populated library.

after finally finding the room you reserved(the library is like a maze, capable of ensnaring even the most seasoned of academics), you shuffle into the study room together and set up your computers and piles of homework to be graded before settling into a serene flow with Mark working quietly beside you.

after about thirty minutes, you look over to Mark’s pile and notice that his “complete” pile is, unfortunately, larger than yours, which ignites a spark of competition in you. You start to try to work through your pile faster and Mark seems to pick up on your haste.“Worried about falling behind?” he scoffs with a shit-eating grin, clasping his hands together in front of his mouth. “Oh, not in the slightest; just trying to optimize my time, I've more work to get back to, you know.” you say, smirking back at him but with a glint in your eye, tacitly challenging him to try to get through his pile before you get through yours.

The two of you actually make some substantial progress in both of your piles before you encounter one of the more difficult homework assignments your students have been assigned. You’re stumped by the multi-part problem at the top of the page, trying unsuccessfully to follow the student’s work in front of you.

“... You on homework 15 yet?”

“Yep.” you nod.

“... You have any idea what Dr. C is asking them to do?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright, just checking.”

Mark sits back in his chair with a thud and runs a hand down his face. you stand from your seat and move to the small whiteboard on the wall opposite where you were sitting and start to list out the knowns and unknowns in the problem statement. You can feel Mark’s eyes on you the entire time, following along with your work and your movements as you draw out the reaction being described in the first part of the problem. You get stumped at the end of the problem, trying to piece together the end products of the reaction. You hear Mark shift behind you before turning around to see him walking toward the whiteboard to silently walk himself through your work, nodding at each step you took. He picks up a marker and starts adding onto where you were stumped and you watch intently, absorbing what he’s writing. As he finishes the problem, you get the chance to actually get a look at him while he’s working; he furrows his eyebrows and you notice a small crease he gets between his eyebrows as they cinch together, and the faint spattering of freckles across his nose becomes apparent with how close he is to you now. God, he is so close-"that should be it? I think?" He looks to you with an indiscernible look in his eye; first, a hint of shock as his eyes widen--looks like he noticed how close you are too-- then something else you can't quite identify. It takes more effort than your willing to admit, but you eventually tear your eyes away from his and look at his work on the board. It all makes sense, you also note how messily he draws his diagrams of the assortment of carboxyl groups created by the process at the center of the problem(and it also takes everything within you not to smile at that, thinking to yourself, when did this start feeling nice???). "It, uh, it looks all good to me. And the rest should follow from this too." you utter awkwardly and turn to face him again. "Yeah?" His state of mind is still elusive to you, and he responds with an almost dazed sounding "Yeah."

The moment doesn't last for long though, as a soft knock sounds at the door, startling you both out of your joint reverie. "Hey, you guys are the TAs for o-chem this quarter, right? Do you have time to talk about the homework due tomorrow?" The two of you exchange a glance and invite the exhausted looking undergrad into the alcove.

After helping your wayward student, the two of you start packing up your now completed piles of grading in silence, the awkward air from the beginning of the night settling back in now that the distraction from grading was gone. The two of you are about to part ways at the entrance of the library when Mark stops you with a "hey," and says,"uh, so, I know we have this…whatever this is? Between us" He gestures chaotically back and forth in the space between you, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "But this is the most work I've gotten done in one sitting in a while. Would you, uh, like to do this again? Maybe? But at more reasonable hour?" Mark takes a defensive steps back, and this throws you off for a multitude of reasons. One, Mark is acting nervous, which is something you've had the pleasure of witnessing mabe once in your time being around him. Two, he seems to be genuinely asking spend more time with you. And, to be honest, after the silence between the two of you was broken, that was also the most productive you've been in a while. And it probably wouldn't hurt to actually collaborate with him instead of trying to compete with him. Just as you began to fear you were taking too long to respond, Mark pulls his hands out of his pockets and puts them up in the universal "I'm harmless" pose, "you don't have to, I just thought I'd ask-" "sure." You cut him off before he can try to answer his question for you. He looks at you with what can only be described as gleeful shimmer in his eyes and smirked again; this time, though, it didn't have his usual venom behind it. "Yeah?" He asks hopefully. "Yeah." You smile in return, it reaching your eyes this time.

[malfoys-demigod]

will truman & friend!reader headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

a/n: i haven’t seen any of these in the internet yet so let’s fill the void. i imagine the reader as female but you guys can imagine it however you want. hope someone out there enjoys this!!

being friends with will would include…

ok so whenever you’re upset he always holds you and let’s you cry on his shoulder 

because he knows your his shoulder to cry on too 

if you’re feeling down he gets you your favorite foods and your favorite movie and you just have a relaxing day 

he gives the best gifts

never hesitates to lend you anything

when you’re feeling anxious about something he always knows how to calm you down and reassure you and help you figure things out 

like the man is just a grounding presence 

he let’s you hang out in his office all the time

and don’t tell me you don’t talk about guys together 24/7

tough love king

you tease him constantly and he pretends to hate it 

but he loves it 

you have pretended to be each others date to things many times 

and you struggle not to laugh the entire time 

he is the most protective person of you like—😭✋

all the game nights

and you don’t even care when he wins most of them

he pretends not to notice when you move things around in his apartment when you come over

but then he’ll move them back later 

it’s a never ending battle 

he never let’s you leave the house without a perfect outfit though 

the designated driver type you know?

like he’s the type of guy that when you fell asleep on the ride home from something he would carry you from the taxi up to your apartment  

you and grace are like sisters too and you three do like everything together 

jack loves you so much and you go to all his shows and probably give him dating advice 

karen called you “wilma’s girlfriend” for like a month but she loves you and you guys tease will together 

if you came over in the middle of the night he’d 100% get you whatever you needed and let you sleep in his bed with him 

you guys talk into the night about life and just everything 

he cooks for you 

he calls you “love” and “sweetie” and “honey”

in the most platonic way 

you make him so happy and you both just cherish your friendship and know you’re so lucky to have each other 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: hope you liked this and let me know if you want headcanons for any other will and grace characters! have a lovely day/night <3

[malfoys-demigod]

how these 90s sitcom characters would be if y'all dated:

Eric Matthews:

- he's such a softie, so expect him to spoon you all the time, like literally...

- he hates it when you tease him but sometimes thinks you're teasing him when you're not, so you'll be in the middle of fixing dinner and he's like, "i know what you're doing."

- he loves giving you forehead kisses and is very protective of you. probably has a nickname for you

Uncle Jesse:

- he's an absolute freak in the sheets, just saying

- he enjoys serenading you with songs, maybe you sing along or dance for him to make him crack while singing

- lots of kissing, shoulder rubs, and waist snatching. he's very much in love with you.

Will Truman:

- such a sweetheart but sometimes is a control freak, so if he wants something, he wants it then and now

- y'all are probably already engaged

- he enjoys cooking for you and you love it when he cooks

[malfoys-demigod]

Love and Karaoke (Mat Barzal)

Request (anonymous): 3 for Mat Barzal please?

A/N: I am ashamed to admit that I only discovered the video of Barzy singing an old Justin Bieber song two days ago, so of course I had to rewrite this imagine to make it karaoke-themed (hence the delay). While reading this, watch the music videos for the two songs when you see the song titles in bold (LINK HERE) b/c I watched them during the writing process and they each shed light on how the characters are feeling.

Warnings: Two swear words, alcohol, mentions of bullying, insecurity

Word Count: 2k

“All right, guys, who’s up for a little competition?” Johnny Boychuk said.

It was the beginning of training camp, and the Isles players decided to rent a private room in a karaoke bar for some “bonding time.” They invited their SO’s, and while you were not dating any of the players, you didn’t feel out of place. You came to events like this all the time because Sydney, Matt Martin’s wife, was one of your best friends. You met her shortly after you started working for the Islanders social media department. Your boss had called Sydney into the office one day for help with an Instagram overhaul, and since you had just been put in charge of the team’s Instagram, you were the one to meet her. The two of you became fast friends, so it was only natural to become closer to the players.

“Let’s do a karaoke competition!” Tito shouted from his seat at the table next to yours. You liked all of the guys, but most of them were at least a few years older than you, so you naturally became closest to Tito and Mat. Tito was goofy and super fun to hang out with. Mat was funny, too, but you could also have serious conversations with him.

“Who are our victims tonight?” Marty had a wicked grin on his face, and you knew right away that you were in trouble. Sydney’s husband was like an older brother to you, and he liked to embarrass you like one.

“Mat!” Tito yelled, and Mat glared at him from his seat at the bar. Generally, Mat sat with you and Tito, but he was sitting with Jordan because Lauren couldn’t make it tonight.

“You just gave me an idea. Mat, I dare you to sing a Bieber song.”

Everyone, including you, cracked up in laughter. Mat loved Justin Bieber, and he knew all of the words to his songs, even the old ones. You especially loved teasing him about it because you detested Justin Bieber. While every other girl in your middle school obsessed over him, you groaned whenever you heard his voice. He seemed completely fake, and it didn’t help that the popular girls who made your days living hell were his number one fans; what they loved, you hated. Once you reached high school, you changed your mind about almost everything except Bieber. His arrest for drag racing confirmed every thought you had about him: that he was a delinquent.

“And I dare Y/N to sing a Taylor Swift song.”

Keep reading

[malfoys-demigod]

operation woo , mat barzal

note, thank you to @mrs1barzal​ for this idea, so all the credit for this idea goes to you. you’re awesome! also, there are two mat(t)’s, so be aware that there’s mat b with one t and matt m with two t’s (as we know. just wanted to make a note about it).  pair, mat barzal x reader summary, y/n is sydney martin’s younger sister, so obviously, matt is gonna be protective of her, his younger sister. on a spontaneous trip to new york, you meet his teammate mat.  warnings, protective marty? word count, 2329 words

Keep reading

[malfoys-demigod]

CUTE

Being Matt Martin’s Little Sister and Dating Mat Barzal Would Include:

Keep reading

[malfoys-demigod]

Noth goin on here just thinkin bout the time Andy Roddick said he's seen Nadal played French Open finals a gazillion times but he'd never seen him as nervous as the night he played in Federer's last match cause he didn't want to let him down 🥲🥺

[malfoys-demigod]

HARD MAYBE

phil wenneck x reader

request. ꩜ “slow mornings w cuddles :)”

you loved Phil for many reasons, and mornings were only one of them.

author's note. ∿ a drabble for anon! fluff.

The California sun spilled onto your skin, its warmth leaving patches on what was exposed to its light. The heat that radiated off of the body intertwined with yours gave warmth to what the sun couldn't, the room cool.

Phil's eyes bore at the sight of your body under the covers next to his, fascinated with the way your eyelids flickered at any given moment, how he swore he could almost hear the rise and fall of your chest. How your hair was a mess over the pillows but you looked nothing but gorgeous. He was enamored with all of it. So much so that he couldn't miss the way your eyes flickered open for only a moment before closing again.

"You're staring, Wenneck," You mumbled with your head in your arms resting on your pillow.

"What can I say," He rasped, his voice weighed down by the gravel that rumbled in his throat as he pulled you closer. "I'm admiring the view."

"You're a sap," You replied, your voice still muffled.

A smile tugged at his lips. "I think Romantic," He said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your hair.

"Cute. Maybe."

He lowered his head, level with yours "Maybe?"

You eyes opened again with a smile. "A hard maybe."

“How can I change that, baby?”

“Make breakfast,” you giggled.

“Okay, but you’re coming with me,” He said with a grunt as a threw you over his shoulder and lifted you off the bed.

“Phil, put me down!”

He shook his head, picking up his shirt that had ended up on the floor from the night before.

“PHIL.” You’d resorted to slapping his back, but still he wouldn’t budge.

“Nuh-uh, nope.”

It wasn’t until he reached the kitchen he set you down on the cold granite of the counter. Before you had the chance to complain about how cold you were, he handed his shirt that he picked up.

“What do you want? eggs? pancakes?”

“Waffles,” You said, wrapping your bare upper body in his button up that still smelled like him, a reminder of last night, a reminder of your lover.

“With-”

He cut you off. “With strawberries, I know.”

That all too familiar grin tugged at your lips again that morning as you watched him cook. With your knees pulled to your chest you admired his look of focus and the grey sweatpants gun low on his hips. The stray hands of hair fallen perfectly into place.

He warmed your cheeks and made your heart beat faster. He made you laugh and unwittingly pulled smile after smile from you. He made you wonder what it must be like to be that beautiful, the way he was. He made falling feel like flying. He made you happy.

“Is it still a hard maybe?” He asked, leaving the waffles to tend to you for a moment. He leaned his frame towards the counter, his arms caging your figure.

You shook your head. “No. I’d say like a soft maybe now.”

His head dropped with a chuckle. “You’re so annoying.”

“But you love me.” You retorted, letting your lips meld with Phil’s in a chaste kiss.

“I like you, maybe,” His mumbled against you, his words muffled by your lips as if he were afraid to let the feeling go. As if every kiss were the last.

You pulled away. “Maybe?”

He looked at you, fully—wholly. And with nothing but adoration.

“A hard maybe.”

[malfoys-demigod]

The Death of Me //part 3

Fandom: Aquaman

Summary: (very small spoilers for the movie) Finding Orm on your doorstep was not something you expected. Having him move in was even worse. But the effect he still had on every part of your life would be the death of you.

“Try not to drown. It would be awkward.”

Orm watched you disappear into the bathroom, angry or embarrassed to the point of momentarily forgetting about your exhaustion. It was such a relief after spending hours watching your feverish, unresponsive body. He couldn’t help but smile.

He wasn't used to sitting idle, which led him to start cleaning up the house during those few hours and familiarizing himself with the rooms. Orm was now a free man, left to live his life however he wanted. And yet, when Arthur came to him with a certain proposition, he didn't even think before agreeing.

What he's said before was true—Orm did feel indebted to you for everything you'd done over the years. But it wasn't the main reason he dropped everything and allowed Arthur to bring him to the sea house.

Orm used the opportunity of having you out of bed (if it could even be called that) to clean it up and take off the bed sheets. A surprising amount of human medicine rolled out from various crevices of crumpled blankets, which he put on the table to carefully read about later. Human ingenuity managed to surprise him every now and then, and instructions printed on every surface possible were something he appreciated.

He heard the water run in the shower, which was a good sign. So far, no screams, shouts or sounds of a body hitting the floor broke the peaceful evening. Orm wouldn't mind it staying that way.

It took him a few moments to figure out the way human bed sheets were supposed to be used. Everything felt new to him, but he took pride in every step. There was a certain novelty to doing things wrong and not having a whole nation watching.

The lock opened with a mechanical click. You stood in the doorway, looking pale and wet, resembling a wet rat Orm had once seen in a canal. The loose shirt you put on had a lot of soaked spots.

“I can't take it off.”

Orm moved his eyes away from the shirt clinging to your body. “Pardon?”

Your lips formed a thin, anxious line. “The old bandage. Even after I soaked it, I can't take parts of it off.”

Orm knew he'd sooner grow old and turn to dust than hear from you words such as ‘Please, could you help me? I can't do this on my own.’ In any other person, such a trait would endlessly annoy him.

“Let me have a try.” It was a perfectly diplomatic answer that made you walk back into the bathroom.

You leaned over the sink with your back to him and pulled the shirt up. From up close, Orm realized that some of the wet patches on the shirt came from blood. Removing even part of the bandages resulted in aggravating the wounds again, and pulling on the ones that were stuck hard only made it worse.

For a moment, Orm beheld the scale of the task. “What happened to you again?”

“A building.”

It looked as if you were dragged through a few of them. Repeatedly.

“...must've been a big one.”

“Your brother has a talent of making the worst possible choices.”

“Hard to argue with that.”

His heart hurt when he started pulling on the scabbed wounds that had dried with pieces of bandage and dressing inside the wound. He was no medic, but he'd been in enough duels and fights not to overlook unhealed injuries. With lips pressed thin, he tried to be as gentle as possible, but his work was difficult.

He was impressed you didn't flinch or curse. Orm only heard quiet hisses from you and noticed your heavy breathing.

“I'm sorry it's taking so long,” he broke the silence after a while, thinking it would distract you enough. “I wish we had some of the Atlantean medicine that could speed this up.”

“I actually might still have some in the cabinet to your left from that time we fought those necros. Your healers gave me a lot, but I don't remember which is which.”

Orm froze. “And you're only telling me this now?”

“In my defense, I didn't even remember about it until you asked.”

Orm dropped the paper towels he used to wipe the blood off your back into the sink. He found a crumpled bag with a few small, familiar jars. Some of the medicine had already dried out, but the one he was searching for remained intact.

“It's a good thing you didn't throw them out. This one is a special salve; it breaks the bond between dried out wounds and cleans them.”

Orm layered it thickly, working fast and trying his best to focus only on your injuries. Your skin was hot under his fingers and smelled vaguely of soap.

“I tried to soak them under the shower, but it didn't really help.”

“There was not enough water.”

You frowned and raised your head a little to look at Orm in the mirror. He seemed to be engrossed in cleaning the scabs and fabric off. Even though the pain subsided significantly, something still bothered you.

“...I'm pretty sure there was a decent amount of water in the water that I used.”

“Not enough, apparently.”

“In what other terms may I present to you thousands of years of Atlantean technology development that went into producing this salve? Its effects are greatly enhanced.”

“Did you just say my water is too dry??”

“Ah, right. I forgot you're the water experts. Should I start calling you professor?”

Orm tightened the bandage as he caught your eyes in the mirror.

“You can call me whatever you want, as long as it keeps you alive.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you were sure that despite the bruises and bandages, Orm could clearly see what his words did to you. You cleared your throat, breaking eye contact first.

“I'm sure you think you sound cool, but you might've overlooked the possibility of me abusing such power easily and with a smile on my face, Salve Master.”

Orm chuckled. His fingers lingered around your waist. “You'll be the death of me. But as I've said—whatever keeps you going.”

And then he suddenly turned you around and lifted you over his shoulder. Too stunned to fight back, you found yourself carried out of the bathroom.

[malfoys-demigod]

my royal roomie (part 2)

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Orm Marius x Reader

part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/gimme-a-man-after-midnight/693273500438429696/my-royal-roomie-pt-1?source=share

Summary: After a few days of living under your roof, Orm gets to know the little surface dweller he's been stuck with. With time, a stormy night, and a bottle of wine, the prince learns that he has more in common with you than he may think.

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: female reader, slow burn, light cursing, mentions of past emotional abuse, divorced parents!reader, dead parent, comic lore inaccuracies, floral inaccuracies??

Author's Note:

hi y'all! here's the full part 2 i've been working on for some time! thanks for the support on the last one and again, so sorry for the late continuation :/ i hope this story is to your liking! happy reading!

After the first one-on-one conversation you had in the living room, Orm didn't come out of the guest bedroom for days. You’d see flashes of platinum blonde out of the corner of your eye, just barely missing him by a few seconds whenever you’d be in the kitchen or outside of his door. You had made many offers through the red painted oak of his room to go grocery shopping together or take him on a tour of the town, but all of your efforts were met with a stern "No thank you." You had lost any hope you had of forming some kind of connection with the Atlantean for a while, cutting your losses by quietly resigning to a parallel existence. What you didn’t expect was the mutual understanding you two would come to on one fateful stormy Friday night, much like the one that brought him to your doorstep.

***

 Heavy traffic from the drive home, a full message inbox on your telephone, and the burnt attempt at roast chicken sitting on your oven rack had you nursing a glass bottle of wine by the living room window. Bad days were normal for anybody, but it didn’t make them easier to deal with on your own - the added stress of the stranger living in your space didn’t help either. You had been living a quiet life ever since you moved back to the sleepy town some years ago, taking up very little space and leaving minimal traces of yourself. Whether it was out of caution or cowardice, you weren’t sure yet. Either way, that silence had brought you comfort at a time where your thoughts were too loud, but now with another person occupying your space the quiet was becoming suffocating. 

Orm wasn’t by any means a bad roommate - he kept to himself, he didn’t make much noise, and he even managed to wash his dishes whenever he knew you weren’t in the kitchen - but he was a man.The last time you had lived with a man, the end of its course felt similar to how you two were living now, and maybe that’s why it was bothering you so much. Tip-toeing around the Atlantean made you feel uneasy in your own home, a situation you were all too familiar with. Typically at this time in the night you would be cooking up some plan to urge the man out of his guest room, but after the day you had, you didn’t have the heart to try. 

Once you took your final gulp of wine, wiping at the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand, you trudged away from the raging display outside of your window. The dishes could be a tomorrow problem, you thought to yourself as you were leaving your kitchen counter behind. You had only made it a few paces out of the living room before your body was overcome with chills, making you draw your blanket tighter around you. The draft through the house was unmistakable, confusing you thoroughly due to you always making sure the doors and windows were shut before bed. As you stepped deeper into the house, you realized the distinct breeze was coming from the direction of the guest bedroom. You had made it a point to allow Orm his space, but your brain was stirring with reasons for what he could possibly be doing in there  - most of them unsavory. 

With a deep breath and a tight fist holding your blanket, you gently rapped at the door. 

“Hey, Orm?”

No response. You knock again.

“I don’t mean to bother, but I’m feeling a bit of a breeze through the house and I can tell it’s coming from here, so I just want to see if everything is alri-”

The door suddenly opened a crack, revealing half of Orm’s face which was already more than you had seen in days. 

“If you don’t mean to bother, then don’t.”

The curt response, although expected, has you taken aback. Already seeing the Atlantean retreat from the spot again, you hold the door in its place in effort to keep his attention.

“Look, I know you wanna be alone, but I can’t help wondering why a cold ass breeze is coming from your room, so I just want to see what’s going on. Please, it’s freezing right now.” You do your best to keep control of your tone, not wanting to let on just how much the cold was getting to you - giving the prince another reason to look down on humans wasn’t on your agenda for the night.

 Almost as if he commanded the storm, the lightning cracked loudly outside as Orm swung his door open, revealing his full disheveled state to you. You jolted in place, practically leaping a step back in defense at the swift move.

“What’s going on is the stench of your burnt dinner was practically singeing my nostrils. I opened a window in hopes that I could find some relief, because clearly you surface dwellers have no trouble polluting not only the ocean, but your precious breathing air as well! I have little care for how cold your fragile body may get, so I suggest you retire to your room at once and leave me be.”  

There was a gap in the yelling match conversation, almost as if the blond was waiting for you to bite back at his harsh words, but the glazed look in your eyes and parted lips made it evident to the Atlantean that your mind was elsewhere. Orm followed your gaze, noticing that it was locked onto the maroon sweater he was adorning, looking at it with equal parts surprise and melancholy. His enhanced hearing picked up on a hitch in your breath and chattering of your teeth, confirming to him that you were clearly shaken.

After the long silence, you mousily spoke.

“I didn’t leave that sweater out for you.” 

 The arbitrary words silenced Orm, his expression turning to one of confusion as he looked down at the knit fabric on his chest.

“...where did you find it?” 

Your voice didn’t change in volume when you made your inquiry, but your tone was somber. The candid emotion made the Atlantean clear his throat awkwardly, unsure of how to handle such vulnerability from his host. You couldn’t even fully appreciate how much messier Orm looked in comparison to when he first arrived - looking like a 90s wet dream with his ungelled hair, clenched jaw, and broad shoulders peeking out of his loose fitting clothes. No, it was the clothes that were holding your attention hostage.

“It was deep in the wooden wardrobe of my room…the garb you set out for me wasn’t suitable for the storm,” Orm says, arms crossed in a defensive manner as he anticipates your response.

A part of you wanted to laugh at his retort, the corner of your lips quirking up for a millisecond before melting back into the numb expression you had prior. 

“Are you going to ask me to change? Because I don’t see why I should relent,” the blond goads, pulling a haughty expression that comes all too naturally.

Orm wasn’t sure himself why he wanted to urge a response from you - why he wanted to learn more about this sweater that was clearly jumbling up your thoughts enough to render you so silent. He tried to chalk it up to plain boredom, tried to reason with himself that all his time in self-isolation was making him yearn for more. Still, even with those excuses lined up to justify his actions, he couldn’t explain why seeing the down-turned expression on your lips felt so unnerving. This woman in front of him now was like a shell in comparison to the buoyant, eccentric character he had been previously introduced to - and for some bizarre reason he didn’t like it. 

Your thought process, on the other hand, was going in a completely different route. The glaringly red knit in your line of sight brought back too many memories that you had made efforts to bury. The cursed sweater in combination with the Atlantean prince’s snark makes your breath quicken and your mind wander to the whisper of a past life that still takes up space in your home. You couldn’t decipher if your shivering was coming from Orm’s open window or from your body trying to eject all of the feelings evoked from seeing that damn sweater.

“I-I…you…you shouldn’t-” you shakily exhale, your eyes surveying around your surroundings to try and focus on literally anything else. You backstep, hoping that physically running away from the situation will do you good, but your eyes lining up with the red-clad chest and the sound of the booming thunder makes you falter. Your hand clutches at your chest, the white knuckled grip on your blanket alerting your roommate.

The prince's body calls to action, making Orm take an instinctive step forward, reaching out as if to try and steady you. 

“What is happening with you? Why are you so high-strung? Do humans go into cardiac arrest so easily?” 

You couldn’t hear his stern questioning, your mind flitting to images of firm fists slammed against tables and nights spent alone, buried deep under your covers in the hopes of being swallowed by the sheets. It was like the space in your lungs was being taken up by a vice grip, and your ability to think - to form a simple thought that didn’t make your heart hurt - was completely ripped away from you. Even after four years, the memories of him still have so much power over you in a way that’s paralyzing.

“I-I just - I need - I need to breathe!”

With that final exclamation, you scurried away from the Atlantean, quickly making it back to your room before slamming the door shut behind you. Orm was left stunned outside of his door, his eyes trained in the direction of your room down the hall. 

What the hell just happened?

***

Arthur was done - so done.

The newly crowned Atlantean king had so much on his plate already, what with his upcoming engagement underway and him having an entire kingdom to look after. While he did appreciate his little brother feeling comfortable enough to call him at such an ungodly hour, the words the blond uttered made him want to pull his hair out. 

“I think I broke her - your human.”

“Bro, what?”

It was too fucking early for this. 

“Don’t call me - agh, nevermind - something’s wrong with your human and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. Is this really an environment you believe me to find enrichment from? My host is clearly on the brink of some sort of breakdown and I-”

“Wow, I never took you for someone that was so easily shaken, brother.”

Arthur’s poorly timed quip makes Orm stare back at the projection call with a blank face.

“First off, she’s not my human, she’s her own person. Second, what did you even do? She’s not one to just collapse on her own - although she is a serial overthinker and could definitely talk herself to an early grave...”

Orm, frustrated with his half-brother’s lack of support, rolls his eyes over the call.

“Okay, okay, but seriously. Something must’ve set her off or triggered her to react in a way. You sure you didn’t do anything?” 

“All I did was answer the door when she knocked. When she saw me at the entrance, she saw the sweater I was wearing and was overcome with emotion. That’s hardly my fault.”

Orm can see Arthur’s brows furrow in thought at the information, almost as if he’s assessing whether he’s been given the whole story or not.

“Well…where’d you get the sweater?”

“I hardly think that matters-”

“Just answer the question, bro-”

An exasperated grunt leaves Orm as he grips at the sheets beneath him in an attempt to contain himself. A part of him regretted bringing up the matter at all, communication with his half-brother being much too awkward to bear. 

“I got it from the wooden wardrobe inside of my chambers! It was much more practical to wear than the flimsy garb-”

“Shit,” Arthur cuts him off, the hologram shifting as the man rubs at his eyes. “The wooden wardrobe with vines on the sides?”

It was Orm’s turn to be taken aback, unsure of how he knew the detail from off the top of his head.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

A muffled sigh comes from Arthur’s end, the image changing again as the king shuffles out of bed quietly to not disturb a sleeping Mera.

“Listen, dude. It’s not my place to speak on her business like this, but all I can say is that the wardrobe - that room - holds a lot of memories that are painful for her. I know you didn’t mean to bring them up, but that wardrobe is off limits. Just try and apologize for now, but don’t pry.”

“But why should I-”

“Orm, seriously! I get it, you don’t like being there - that you’ve spent every day in your room ever since I dropped you off, but she’s been trying. She’s been doing everything she can to get you out of your shell and you’re not giving back anything. There has to be some give here, and that can start with you saying sorry.” 

Orm was surprised by the fact that Arthur knew of his daily whereabouts already, undoubtedly asking you for updates on him. However, what surprised him the most was that even though you have seemingly complained to his half brother, you never once suggested kicking him out - never demanded he leave your house and have Atlantis deal with him. You truly were a peculiar little thing. 

“...fine. But don’t expect me to continue such niceties with her.”

A belly laugh could be heard from over the call, surely out of amusement for the prince's unwavering coldness.

“Good. Now hang up, you disrupted my beauty sleep.”

With a scoff, Orm presses on the green gem of his wristlet and heads off to the direction of your room.

***

When Orm knocks on your door, he expects a big fuss - bouts of yelling, arguing, or cursing that’ll leave his highly sensitive ears ringing. What he doesn’t expect is everyone of his knocks being met with silence - deafening silence now that the storm has subsided. 

“Hello?”

The prince feels weirdly small waiting by your door for your answer, having no clue what he’ll be met with on the other side of him. (It also gives him some insight on how you must feel every time you knock on his door to chat, although he’d never admit to having similarities with you,)

“Are you ignoring me?” 

More silence. 

“Oh, enough of this childishness.”

With a deep breath in, Orm turns the knob of your door and lets himself into your room. He’s met with colorful tapestries embellishing the walls, big rugs covering the hardwood floor, and twinkling lights surrounding the bed frame. The scene that you set for yourself in your room makes Orm think about his home - the way that the colorful bioluminescence would sparkle throughout his kingdom. 

When the initial first impression of your room wears off, he notices there is no one in the bed. No squirming presence under the sheets or anyone sitting on top of the bed to give him a stern talking to. Where did you go?

The blond takes a tentative step inside, stepping over the fuzzy carpets to keep from disturbing their arrangement. When he walks past the bed frame and closer to the window, he sees a lump of a human wearing a large blanket over their shoulders and some type of bulky headgear that covers your ears and emits sound. You were completely enthralled by the scene outside of the window that you hardly notice Orm stepping up next to you. 

A sudden hand on your shoulder has you jolting upward with a yelp, your hand instinctively slapping away at the intruder before you turn to look at where they came from.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

Orm gets into his own defensive position as you scramble to press your back against the wall, looking at you as if you were a trembling animal.

“My god, woman!”

“What are you doing in here you scared me half to-”

“I knocked but there was no answer so I-”

“Oh, so you decided to just welcome yourself in?”

Orm purses his lips in frustration, not thrilled at being met with the uproar he had originally expected. You sigh to yourself in disbelief, willing yourself to be quiet since there would be no productive conversation if you two kept yelling at each other.

“Next time just take the hint that I’m busy if I don’t answer, okay? You can’t just barge in here when you want, it’s not cool…”

The Atlantean has some sense to feel a shred of shame when you speak, although your words are hardly convincing when your eyes don’t turn in his direction for even a second. You look so timid standing there in your corner with the blanket consuming you completely - not at all like the spitfire that called him an “asshole” and warned him not to “test her.” (He secretly felt some relief in your loud exchange mere moments ago, because it meant that version of you was still there.) 

“I…I apologize for intruding.” 

Your head whips up to finally meet the man’s piercing blues, your mouth left slightly agape at an actual apology leaving the arrogant Atlantean’s lips.

“Uh…it’s okay...although, try not to do it again.”

Another moment of awkward silence passes.

“So…why’d you come in here?”

You ask this question as you take a seat back on the floor, resuming your position of staring out of the window only this time without your headphones. You pat the spot next to you on the floor, urging Orm to sit next to you. With a small eye roll, the blond begrudgingly joins you on your multi-colored carpet, opting to rest his arms against his knees as means to shield himself from you.

“I came here to apologize, not just for barging in, but for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have gone through the wardrobe without your permission even if I needed different clothes. I should’ve asked you instead of rifling through your belongings on my own accord.”  

His apology, although rehearsed, seems genuine enough for your shoulders to relax. Your eyes follow the droplets of rain slowly trickling down the glass of your window, racking your brain for the right thing to say. 

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just…I haven’t revisited the memories that room brings in a long time. You putting on that sweater unearthed them today, and it got me bad. See, I was having a shit day already what with keeping up with the shop, and then an accident causing traffic on the way home, and the wine that I usually like being out of stock-” 

Your rambling gets cut off by a soft chuckle coming from the man next to you, a sound that seems so uncharacteristically happy for his usual demeanor. The corners of your mouth perk up in disbelief, the expression making Orm quickly look away from you. 

“Huh. So that’s what your laugh sounds like. It’s nice…”

Orm didn’t understand why he reacted in such a way, you weren’t saying anything particularly funny…

…It’s just the way your eyes became so animated as you spoke more, your hands gesturing stronger as you explained further - it was amusing to him. So different from the usual company he keeps, always firmly placed brows and crossed arms from the high council members he consulted. Even the Atlantean women, although much more pleasant company, were more regal in comparison to his surface dweller host.  However, what you did have in common with those women was your tenacity. Even with his cold attitude towards you, your kindness was unwavering - a few times a day, without fail, you’d knock on his door with the promise of food and semi-entertaining company. He’s starting to regret only agreeing to the food.

God, he must be going stir crazy.

“What is it about the sweater that made you react in such a way?”

This was when you noticed that Orm was no longer wearing the offending material, choosing to wear the simping cotton T shirt you had given him. It may have been nothing - a simple delusion on your part - but the weight on your chest felt lighter at the idea that the Atlantean took it off to bring you comfort. 

“It - uh,” you stuttered, “it belonged to my ex-boyfriend. All of the stuff in that wardrobe did, actually. We painted the vines on the side of it together…” 

Orm’s arms flexed tighter around his knees at your words. He didn’t know how to respond, feeling significantly awkward due to adorning your ex lover’s clothing, so he decided to just shut up and let you continue.

“When I was 14 my parents got divorced. My mom wanted so badly to make it work, but my dad didn’t like his life here in Amnesty Bay - a part of me felt like he also didn’t like his life with us in general. I mean, he never had a problem making his grievances known, so…” 

Now, this was something the blond was familiar with - uncomfortable family dynamics. The realities of his parents’ marriage were never shielded from him growing up - he often witnessed the brutality of his father whenever his mother, Atlanna, would make her opposing opinions known. He often felt conflicted about which side to take - the one of least resistance that prioritized the well-being of his people or the one that looked out for the well-being of everyone, Atlanteans and surface dwellers alike. Hearing you now, speak your piece on your own upbringing, comforted him in a way he didn’t expect.

“The divorce was messy. Lots of nights spent being pulled in every direction, but with no real place to find peace. After everything settled, my dad ended up moving to New York while my mom remained here. They agreed that for the school year I’d stay with my mom, so she’d have some help at the flower shop, but I’d visit him on major holidays…”

The blanket around you suddenly feels too thin, a chill running over you as you recount your tale. You take a sneaky glance over your shoulder to check if the blond was still listening, and you were surprised (and delighted) to find that his steadfast gaze was at the side of your face. 

“...At some point during my years at university, my mom stopped asking me to visit - demanded that I only live with my dad when I was out of school. You can imagine Arthur had his qualms about that…”

You chuckled to yourself at the memory of a young Arthur blowing up your home phone upon hearing the news. 

“It would only be for the same visiting time as before, so there wasn’t much fuss on my dad’s end, but my relationship with him had become so different after the divorce that it wasn’t ideal. It…It hurt to hear my mom reject me like that.” 

Orm’s mind flashes back to the rain soaked figure of his mother, presenting herself to be siding with his half-brother after his defeat. The sting of her counteraction still lingers in his chest.

“When I had started dating my ex during my third year, I found out the reason my mom was keeping me from home - she got sick…cancer. All of the overworking to pay the bills, lack of support, and the hereditary traits…she got really sick. I guess she didn’t want me to see her in so much pain…” 

Orm watches as you turn away to stubbornly wipe at your face, a sniffle coming from your direction. He hadn’t expected you to willingly speak on your background when he asked about the sweater, but a part of him felt guilty for being the cause of your current distress.

“When she died, I moved back here to look after the house and take over the shop…but my ex had moved in with me. Darren.” 

More tears fell from your cheeks at the same speed as the rain running down your window.

“Darren offered to help me with the business, help me get on my feet. A part of me knew that he was going to hate the life we were starting together based on talks we had about the future, but I ignored it all when my grief became the only thing I felt for a long time. He always wanted more - more than our little town, more than the flower shop…so when an opportunity presented itself to have a life on his own, he took it. Just like my dad did…” 

 Orm’s heart drops at the end of your retelling, knowing the feeling of rejection and abandonment all too well. His father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what feelings this little surface dweller was stirring in him. The gap between the Atlanteans and the humans was closing in his mind, and Orm wasn’t sure if he cared to stop it. All he wanted at this moment was to stop you from crying. 

“I’m sorry for putting on the sweater…and for being an ungracious guest these past few days. I’ve been a real dick.” 

You can’t help but guffaw at his choice of words, using your fist to mask the unsightly sound as a cough. 

“That’s not a very princely thing to say…” 

Orm’s head tilts back as he snickers, feeling slightly proud of himself for inciting a better mood in you.

Ah, that laugh again, you think as you admire how ethereal the man looks in his relaxed state. 

“Perhaps my brother is to blame for my much more…colorful vernacular.” 

“Perhaps,” you hum in agreement, “or you’re just not as much of a dick as I previously thought…sorry for coming on so strong that first day.” 

Orm’s blue eyes shine at you with something unfamiliar - different to the cold, distant stare you were first met with. You find yourself wishing to always be at the receiving end of his kind eyes. 

Orm clears his throat before uttering, “No need to be…I was the one that misjudged you before ever seeing you.” 

A silence falls over you two, a comforting one built between new comrades. Your (e/c) gaze meets his as the storm calms outside of your window, signaling the start of a new chapter for you and your royal roommate. 

[malfoys-demigod]

Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom had just about everything I could have asked for:

Orm Marius big screen redemption arc

Arthur and Orm bickering and bonding

Orm not knowing shit about the surface

Orm seeing his mama again

Orm in surface clothes

SHIRTLESS ORM, FINALLY JUSTICE FOR PATRICK

Angsty MantaShin fodder

Shin being fucking adorable

Arthur Jr. being the cutest baby to ever exist

Mera and Orm being chill

NONE OF ARTHUR'S FAMILY DYING HAHA I KNEW IT I TOLD YOU

The only things I'm kinda disappointed we didn't get are more Orm interaction with the Curry clan (especially Tom and Jr.) and Orm living at the lighthouse. But that's what fanfic is for.

[malfoys-demigod]

New Years Kiss

Orm Marius x fem! reader

_

Orm Marius couldn't admit he liked you.

As the son of King Orvax, he was prideful, cunning, malicious and stubborn. He always knew he'd have to fight for his throne, and because of that reality, he's spiteful.

But he's also Atlannas' son. He never spent much time thinking of how they both cared to the brink of it hurting them, or how his love was displayed in actions whilst hers was in encouraging her son to do better with his newfound freedom. In looks, he is his mothers son, but his pride held onto him steadfast.

"(Y/N) is coming."

"(Y/N)?"

Arthur mused, "oh now someone's paying attention."

Orm said nothing but rolled his eyes. His elder brother, Arthur, had a habit of teasing him. Sure, he had grown used to it and had his own retorts, but it had only gotten worse since Arthur figured out that Orm has a crush.

On a human.

"She's hosting, so you better not fuck this up."

Orm sneered, "what are you talking about?"

"New Years Kiss, little bro!" He went to mess up his hair, but Orm dodged him, "when the clock strikes midnight, humans have a tradition of sharing a kiss," Mera explained to him whilst feeding Jr..

"I don't know why you're telling me this because I have no intentions of courting her-"

"When you sound like that, you don't," Arthur cut in, his voice loud even from the kitchen.

Orm is Atlantean, (Y/N) is human.

Logically, it would never work out.

So why even try?

But even as Orm would remind himself of such a glaring difference, the thought would vanish the moment he saw her. He had seen hundreds of Atlantean women in his time, even mermaids, but somehow they were dull in his eyes compared to her. She wasn't just different because she's human, but she genuinely cared about everyone around her. He first claimed she was strange for giving her food to the homeless, or how she was odd for asking the barista how her day was.

Because it's a pure act of innocence that he hadn't seen in a long time.

And its what drew him in even further.

Despite his claims, Orm still found himself picking off any piece of lint or fur on his clothing and made sure he smelt just like that candle she loved so much.

And a dash of that cologne that Arthur wears.

"Oh, he just keeps growing! Jr, I thought we talked about this. You need to stay cute forever," (Y/N) loved seeing Jr.. Her face lit up in joy anytime she saw the little prince, and Orm felt a pang of jealousy.

Then realized.

He's jealous of a toddler.

"Help yourself! The potato skins are almost done," You had done the most to avoid Orms intense gaze but with those eyes? It was nearly impossible.

"Orm, how was your Christmas?" You asked, a tad bit nervous as he came inside and took his shoes off. He was always respectful of your home.

"Arthur gave me a fish."

"Did you name it?"

He looked at you for a moment, ". . .his name is Triton."

His deadpan voice with that line made you smile, and you brought out a small box from your back.

"What's this?" He asked carefully, watching it in your hand.

"Well since I couldn't make it for Christmas, I thought you could have it today," you explained, a small feeling bubbling in your stomach. You saw it and immediately thought of him, but never saw Orm wear jewelry a day in his life.

"It's for me?" He felt his heart skip a beat as he took it carefully and unwrapped it. It was a small box and went it opened up, his pupils dilated at the gift inside.

"I know how it feels to not be able to go home," you explained as he pulled it out of the box, admiring it, "so I thought you'd like something that reminds you of it."

It's a ring with carefully carved ocean waves along the side. You could relate to Orm in that way - being exiled. Well, it wasn't exactly exile, but it was always one way or the highway with your parents.

Choosing your own happiness came with a cost.

"And it's stainless steel, so it won't tarnish in the water," I added nervously.

"It's beautiful," he finally spoke up, slipping it on his right hand. He met your gaze with a nervous smile, "you didn't have to-"

"(Y/N), I think the potato skins are burning!"

"Fuck!" You shouted, running to the kitchen. Orm admired the ring for a bit longer, enjoying the warmth it brought it him before joining the others.

The evening was quite eventful, to say the least.

Arthur ate half of the food all whilst sharing pictures of Jr., and then Mera had started to feel ill. You apologized if something was overcooked or undercooked, but Mera insisted she had been feeling off all day.

Leaving you and Orm.

Alone.

He sat on the couch like a stuff board, suddenly hyperaware of his own breathing and kept glancing at you across the couch.

"I-"

"What-"

You chuckled, "sorry. You first."

Orm said softly, "it is nothing of importance. Please."

"Want to see the fireworks? It's almost midnight," Orm hadn't heard much of them before being banished to the surface. Only that they were loud and he refused to go outside.

But for you?

He'd say yes.

Since it was cold outside, you grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around you before slipping on shark slippers.

"I'm sorry if this has been a rough New Years Eve. I'm usually a better cook than tonight," you apologized, "I've just been feeling weird lately."

"Is it a human sickness?" Orm questioned, still keeping a small distance from you, for fear his heart might burst from his chest.

You blushed lightly, taking a small step closer to him, "something like that."

"Well. . .I hope you feel better."

Dense as always.

You took the initiative to step closer to him, your hands keeping themselves on the railing of your porch. The wood creaked lightly, and Orm wanted nothing more than to hold your hands.

"Humans get cold easily, correct?" He knew this but wanted to sound dumber for this.

"Yeah, why?" You asked, looking up at him.

He said nothing else but gathered your hands in his, cupping them together. You faced him but looked down, completely sure your face was scarlet.

"Guess I should have worn gloves," you muttered.

"I like it better this way," Orm confessed, meeting your gaze in your own shock.

It's now or never, he thought.

"I hated your kind," what a fucking way to start, "and what you did to the ocean. I wanted to blame all of you, for surely no one was innocent. . .but I have never seen something so pure in their efforts. You are shameless with your kindness, and it used to befuddle me. Why would anyone do things without expectations? Nothing to return back?"

"Orm," you breathed out. Surely he wasn't going to say it? Surely the fucking Prince of Atlantis didn't fall for a land dweller?

"You're incredible," He confessed, a small smile teasing at his lips, "You're the best of your people, and. . .and I. . ." He felt like words couldn't describe what he felt.

So he led with action, and kissed you.

His lips were nothing like you'd imagined. They were soft, and supple against your own, which you were lucky enough to remember your strawberry chapstick today. You leaned further into the kiss, and one hand came up to cradle your cheek. He wanted to continue on, memorize your lips against his - the very euphoria it brought him.

But a loud bang separated you both.

The fireworks started, bright reds, greens, blues - all lighting up the sky. You leaned your head against his chest with a laugh, "that scared the shit out of me."

His arms wrapped around your frame, ensuring your warmth as the colors in the sky danced in his eyes.

"I was your New Years kiss," He said absent-mindedly, and you looked up at him.

"Did Arthur tell you to plan this?"

He chuckled, "oh no. He may be older but he's not that smart."

"You're so mean," you playfully smacked his chest.

"But never to you," He planted a loving kiss on your forehead, silently thanking his brother for having Mera fake her illness so that he could do this.

I'm a fucking dumbass. I wrote this but passed out at 1am 🤦‍♀️

[malfoys-demigod]

The Death of Me //part 2

Fandom: Aquaman

Summary: (very small spoilers for the movie) Finding Orm on your doorstep was not something you expected. Having him move in was even worse. But the effect he still had on every part of your life would be the death of you.

Even though you learned early on the world was an unjust and cruel place, it still managed to surprise you occasionally. The last bits of hope clung to your cloudy mind, snatched away from you once you pried your eyes open to see your nightmare incarnate sitting by the kitchen table.

The fever knocked you out for a few blissful hours; earlier events fading into a half-remembered dream. But there was no denying the truth once you noticed the suspiciously clean counters and sudden lack of accumulated trash laying around. And, worst of all, your new roommate.

Or caregiver. Or pain in the ass. Or man that made your heart twitch in a way signaling either a crush or a heart attack. Who cared about semantics?

Orm Marius, former Ocean Master and currently just some guy, sat in the middle of the kitchen, making his way through a book. The seaside house was home to many books, although you doubted the original owner ever had the time to browse through them.

A small mercy had been granted to you and Orm didn't notice you had woken up. You couldn't help but observe him. Even though he was no stranger to you, and quite recently you'd helped break him out of prison and even somehow saved the world together, you still felt mesmerized by the way he moved and looked.

Even now, the dying evening light entering through the window painted the room in deep shadows, and softened the planes of Orm's face. He had positioned himself close to the window to read in the dimming light. It allowed you to see the softened curve of his shoulders and the way he tilted his head, studying the book just as carefully as you studied him.

“Glad to see you're doing better,” Orm said, without moving.

You jumped a little, making your injuries flare up in a wave of pain. A startled whine escaped your lips when your body reminded you how sore it actually was.

Orm put the book down and stepped over to the couch. Before you managed to say anything, he pressed his hand to your forehead. Whatever words rose in your throat, scattered.

“You're still burning,” Orm muttered with concern and furrowed brows. “Are you sure your medicine is working?”

“...it just needs some time.”

Your voice came out weaker than you expected. You felt fuzzy, and the room around you was definitely moving a little.

Orm was not convinced, and disappeared from your line of sight for a while.

Your fever was probably on the rise again, which was to be expected. For the past few days you'd been in and out of it, drowning in sweat and fighting off the urge to scratch underneath your bandages.

You kicked off the thin blanket, hoping Orm wouldn't touch you again. You were dreadfully aware of how wet Orm's hand must've come off and of the old sweat stench surrounding you. In your defense, you didn't expect any visitors, so for the past few days you focused on passively surviving rather than dragging your corpse to the shower once a day.

You heard Orm's steps before he entered your vision. “Man, just leave me alone. I'm seriously fine on my own—”

A wet towel slapped onto your face, splashing cold water around. What a simple, yet effective way of both shutting you up and providing relief. You'd be impressed if it didn't piss you off so much.

You dragged it off your eyes and came face to face with Orm, suddenly crouching way too close to your liking. He looked at you intensely and then raised an eyebrow.

“If you want me gone, then you should be perfectly capable of throwing me out. You didn't have any trouble last time we sparred.”

“That would be so rude of me. It would crush your ego.”

“As if you ever bothered being polite.”

“I am the nicest person that has ever graced this Earth.”

“You look like a corpse on its way to the afterlife. Unless your state improves, I'm not leaving. The only choice you have is finally dying or getting better and kicking me out. And since I'd rather see the outcome of option number two, I think we have to start with these bandages.”

“They’re in place.”

“The wounds need to be cleaned and dressed again. I can smell that from back here.”

With a hiss through clenched teeth, you dragged yourself into a sitting position, as far away from Orm as was possible on the couch.

“...look who's impolite now.”

Orm moved closer to you with a darkened expression. It made you shiver and put one bare foot on his chest in the only defense you could muster. He wrapped his fingers around your ankle, but didn't move any closer.

“It's not about politeness or pride,” he explained slowly, not taking his eyes off you. “I want you to feel better, regardless of what it takes.”

The way your cheeks heated had very little to do with the fever. In a kinder world, Orm wouldn't have noticed it.

But in this one, he was too observant to miss something like that. His lips curled in the faintest of smiles just as his hand moved further up your leg, slowly dragging his fingers over your scorching skin. Your heart was in your throat and wanted out.

You slapped the wet towel onto his arm and freed your leg.

“Such profound words for someone so annoying.”

“Whatever gets you moving. These wounds really do need cleaning, and I will not back down from that one.”

“I can do it myself.”

“If you could, you would've done it days ago—when it was actually due. That's enough waiting, take them off.”

You thought back to how far your injuries went under your shirt. It provided you with a surprisingly effective burst of motivation to heave yourself off the couch and onto semi-steady legs.

You wobbled off in the general direction of the bathroom, wishing for your torment to finally end.

“Please do avoid any further injuries,” Orm called after you, watching your unsteady search for clean clothes and a towel. There was painful stiffness to your joints, but you were extremely motivated to overcome it.

“I promise to graciously call for your aid right before I break my neck on these marvelous tiles.”

There was not much dignity left in you, but you did your best to protect it by switching the bathroom lock rather than slamming the door.

You could've sworn you heard Orm chuckle.