#BUT THEN RIGHT AFTER I POSTED IT I SUDDENLY GOT INSPIRATION SOOO | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spacedikut · 4 years

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starstruck ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “Can I request some age gap Spencer x reader. Maybe he’s nervous about approaching her for a relationship bc she’s younger, but he’s so goofy for her it’s he’s in love obvious. Pretty pls 🥺💕” 5222 words

a/n: i didn’t specify ages cause i wasn’t sure what people would be comfortable with so i just mentioned an age gap and leave the rest up to you!! i would happily date someone twice my age but i also have daddy issues so :)

masterlist

The day has finally arrived.

Mollie can call you a nerd all she wants, but you know the second she lays eyes on Derek Morgan or Emily Prentiss she’ll change her tune.

This event has been in the university’s calendar since the beginning of the semester. At least two members of the FBI Behavioural Analysis Unit were promised to give a talk about their department, even taking you through a solved case like an interactive documentary, to encourage students to consider joining the academy post-graduation. There was whispers they’d even stick around after to answer some questions.

Your other friend, Jen, the one that understands your excitement, wrote your names down for tickets immediately. You’ve had a countdown on your phone ever since.

“They’ve announced a last-minute guest,” She beams, just as giddy as you. You’re wasting time at the coffee house near the auditorium, waiting for Mollie to arrive.

“Oh, really? Who?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

You almost drop your cookie in shock and stare at her, pupils blown.

“You’re a big fan?” She smirks.

As nonchalantly as you can, you lean back in your chair, “I’m a fan of his work, yes.”

“Oh, his work?”

“Don’t start.”

“I bet you love his work.”

“He’s well-versed and his papers are super interesting-“

“His papers are super interesting-“

“You are a child.”

Just then, Mollie appears, checking her watch. You wish you could kiss her in thanks for saving you from the teasing that would likely never end. “We’re gonna be late for your morbid seminar if you two don’t stop bickering.”

Jen downs the rest of her drink, you shove the last of the cookie in your mouth. Mollie watches your excitement in amusement – your heart starts pumping, whole body buzzing, the same nervousness you felt when you were a preteen right before your first ever One Direction concert. It’s the kind of nervousness that makes your palms sweaty.

Is it evolution or devolution to go from sweating over One Direction to sweating over FBI profilers?

+++

The seminar goes on for an hour, including the questions people ask throughout. It’s everything you could’ve asked for, entertaining and so, so informative and although you weren’t considering joining the FBI before, suddenly it’s all you can think about. Guest speakers have that affect, don’t they? They make you wonder if you should drastically change everything you’ve been planning.

Even Mollie, who you had to threaten to tag along, ended up enjoying herself. “Maybe I learnt a thing or two,” She’d said, rolling her eyes playfully.

You and your friends are some of the last to leave. There’s quite the bustling outside, which you assume is just post-seminar chatter, but you and Jen falter in your steps when you see the exact profilers that had been onstage several minutes ago in front of you, happily interacting and talking to fellow students.

“Oh, man,” Jen whispers, her and Mollie making eye contact across you. “I have to see if I can talk to Emily.”

Mollie encourages her with a frantic, “Go! Go!” while you’re rooted in place. Mollie jabs you with a pointed nail, “You in there, Y/N? I’m sure you have loads of questions for them-“

You stutter and shake your head, “N-no. I’m good. You can try and hit on Derek, if you want.”

You give a half-attempt at a smile, barely lifting the corners of your lips. Mollie recognises that look. She wants to stay with you, check you’re not too overwhelmed, but you shoo her away and send her towards Derek. You breathe a sigh of relief – you’ve been friends with her long enough that she knows when you need space.

There’s something about seeing people you admire so abruptly that totally throws you for a loop. All you had prepared for was seeing them from afar and subsequently talking about it forever, but nothing beyond that. In some circumstances, it’d be a pleasant surprise, but for someone that struggles around strangers and especially around people as admirable as profilers, you are not mentally prepared for this and have therefore shut down.

But then you see him.

He’s shuffling in place in the corner of the room, close to a large potted plant like it’s his only friend. He’s nibbling his lip as his eyes flutter around, never staying somewhere for longer than a second, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Why is no one talking to him? He’s Spencer Reid.

There’s a couple of people surrounding Emily, fully entranced by whatever story she’s relaying, another few people around Derek, chortling at a joke he just made. Spencer glances between them and their audiences, and you can’t help but wonder why he isn’t right next to them, chatting away, too.

Does he not want to talk to anyone?

You should talk to him.

No. He probably wants to be alone.

Or what if he doesn’t and no one else is talking to him which means you can have a one-on-one conversation? What about that?

Are you insane?

…

You have to talk to him.

Before you can change your mind, you’re approaching him with a tight grip on the handle of your bag, pushing it higher up your shoulder. He spots you and makes eye contact just as you stop in front of him, and you notice he momentarily tightens his grip on his satchel.

Was this a bad idea?

“Hi,” You breathe, “I’m Y/N. A big fan.”

His eyes widen a fraction, which you don’t understand because why else would you be here, but he smiles nonetheless, “Hi, I’m, uh, Spencer Reid.”

“I know.”

“Yes, you know. That makes sense, because you were in the seminar. I saw you.”

Now you’re shocked. For as long as you can remember you never sit in the centre of a room, where most attention seems to go, so how did he-

“I-I always scan the room I’m in its.. it’s not a creepy thing, I swear. I’m not creepy.”

A laugh escapes you at that, making him visibly relax. “I don’t think you’re creepy. There was just.. a lot of people in there, so I’m surprised you remember my face.” You shrug.

I couldn’t forget such a beautiful face.

You don’t know what happens, but Spencer suddenly tenses up. His back straightens and he looks alarm, stiff.

Did he just think that? What.. why did he think that?

You wonder if you’ve said something wrong, so you try to change the topic.

“I-I have a question, if you don’t mind answering.”

Spencer nods with an of course, and when the question rolls off your tongue, his mind is still reeling from subconsciously calling you beautiful in his head. It’s not untrue, but it feels.. inappropriate. He doesn’t know why. But you are beautiful.

As he scans your face, now much closer than in the auditorium, he realises yeah, you are incredibly beautiful.

You wave a hand in front of his face, “Doctor Reid?”

“Sorry, yes, sorry. What are you studying?”

There’s a light in your eyes that Spencer recognises when you say, “Psychology.”

“Thought so.”

“You probably talk to a lot of psychology students. I-um. I almost went to Caltech,” Spencer raises an eyebrow, "After I read your dissertation, it really inspired me to look into it – your dissertation is incredible, by the way.”

Spencer smiles bashfully, a futile attempt to not allow the grin to overtake his face, and thanks you, “I appreciate it. Actually, I was sixteen when I wrote it.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Your eyes widen, “You’re insane! You’re amazing!”

The praise bursts from you, and his blushing face makes you oddly proud. On the other hand, Spencer feels like you’ve set him alight, his blood pumping loudly in his ears, as he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your smile.

He desperately needs to change the topic.

“To answer your question…”

Derek notices you two interacting across the room. Mollie sees him looking and hums, “Oh, that’s Y/N, my best friend. She really likes Spencer.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “Looks like he really likes her.”

“Don’t tell her that. She’ll collapse.”

They both watch you for a second, Spencer flailing his arms as he explains, you eagerly adding to his rambling, asking a question here and exclaiming some kind of encouragement there. It’s sweet, Derek thinks.

“Hey..” Mollie begins, a scheming look in her eye, “We’re planning to hang out in the campus bar later. It’s open to all and the drinks are cheap. If you and Emily happen to find yourselves looking for something to do and you drag Spencer along.. I’m sure Y/N would like it.”

“I like the way you think,” Derek says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

+++

“She’s getting hit on. Again.” You giggle, gesturing for Jen to turn around and witness Mollie get your drinks paid for by a random guy.

She’s always been a people person – it’s saved you hundreds on nights out.

All Jen does is glance over her shoulder, scoff, then turn her sceptical eyes to you.

“I saw you and Spencer Reid.” She says, twinkling eyes. She’s trying not to look smug.

“I almost proposed to him.” You joke, taking your drink from Mollie with a mumbled thanks.

“Oh, I bet you did,” She laughs, “You two looked sooo good together.”

“Alright,” You slide a shot to each girl, “I know you’re making fun of me, but I’m taking that compliment and cherishing it. Spencer Reid is cute, what of it?!”

You clink the shot glasses with your friends and down them, all wincing at the taste and giggling at Jen when she takes a gulp of her cocktail to wash away the taste of straight vodka.

“How did talking to Derek and Emily go?”

And then Jen starts chattering away.

You miss the bar door opening behind you, But Mollie notices. She’s been watching the door since they got here, conveniently choosing the table with the best view, just in case some profilers decided to stop by.

Derek catches Mollie’s eye and winks.

“Well I never,” Mollie fakes shock, “Look who just walked through the doors.”

You turn and choke on your drink. Emily and Derek look relax, like they’re home, but Spencer?

He looks just like he did earlier: like there’s a million places he’d rather be.

He’s lost the blazer he was wearing earlier, leaving him in a fitted purple shirt with a matching tie. With the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, you can see his firm hands and the silver watch that rests on his wrist – is it possible for a watch to be sexy? Or maybe it’s just cause he’s sexy?

That shot must be getting to you.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You hiss, a sharp whisper piercing the air as you turn and (terribly) try to hide your face.

But Spencer’s seen you. He spotted you the moment they came in – he recognised your clothes and your hair – and the second he did he turned right back around to exit the bar. Derek’s arm stopped him at his chest, like he does to unsubs, forcefully turning him around and laughing when Spencer tensed up.

“What, Reid? Scared of a pretty girl?” Derek teases, much like he’d been doing since he spoke to you earlier.

“I am scared of college girls, yes. Last time I was in a college bar I was twelve and downed shots of apple juice.”

“What?!” Both Emily and Derek stop short, looks of disbelief at the revelation. “You’ve never mentioned that.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We,” Derek places his hands on Spencer’s shoulders, directing him to your table, “Are just gonna have a few drinks and talk to a few people, and then you’re gonna explain that apple juice story in explicit detail- hey ladies!”

Jen and Mollie look overjoyed at the new company, while you stare rigidly with distinctive what the fuck eyes.

“Would you mind if we joined you?” Emily asks, with a sparkling grin that no one could say no to.

“Of course not,” Jen grins, like it’s the most obvious answer.

The empty seat next to you is taken by Spencer (Derek discreetly shoves him) but right before he’s firmly placed on the stool, Emily calls out, “Spence, why don’t you get us some drinks? You still owe us after you lost that game of gin..”

“I didn’t lose.” Spencer huffs indignantly, “You cheated.”

Despite his grunts, he stands to make his way to the bar, but not before-

“Y/N!” Mollie beams, “It’s your turn to get the round, if you’d be so kind.”

You know that look on her face. You hate her, you realise, but you also love her because being alone with Spencer sends a thrill through you.

Alone with Spencer. What the hell are you supposed to say to him?

You follow him to the bar. He leans against it with an awkward smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey.”

“It’s uh.. it’s been a long time since we’ve seen eachother.” It’s a half attempt at a joke, followed by instant regret. But then you giggle and everything feels right in the world, even Spencer’s sucky joke.

“It has been a while, Doctor Reid.” You say. The bartender approaches, takes your orders, then you turn to Spencer, “What brings you to a college bar, of all places?”

“Well,” Spencer glances over your shoulder to your table. He makes eye contact with every single person there, all watching you two interact, and they all sharply turn and try to play it off like they’ve been talking casually. Spencer’s brows furrow a little. “Derek said the drinks are cheap and our hotel is only a couple blocks away. I don’t know, maybe Derek likes college girls.”

You laugh again, and Spencer has to take a second to realise you’re not laughing at him but at what he said about Derek. “Yeah, Derek seems like a real ladies man.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.” Spencer grins, “We once timed him to see how long it would take to get a girls number and he did it in five minutes. And he said he was having a bad day.”

The drinks are placed in front of you. Neither of you notice.

You unconsciously lean closer, saying, “Have you timed it to see how long it takes for a girl to approach him? That’s gotta be, like, maybe ten minutes?”

“Eight minutes and twenty-three seconds.”

“Well damn. Has he always been so…” A hand gestures in the air, looking for the word.

“Promiscuous?”

“I was gonna say free.”

“Free?” Spencer giggles, “That’s very nice of you.”

You shrug, “I don’t judge.” Spencer agrees, and it slips out, “What about you?”

You wish you could shove the words back in your mouth. Even more so when his expression changes. You can’t entirely make out what it is, but even in the dimly lit bar you can see the flush of heat that spreads through his cheeks to his ears.

“Are you asking me if I’m free with the ladies?” He murmurs, suppressing a grin.

You give an awkward laugh, wondering if you’ve overstepped a boundary, “Yeah. But that’s kinda weird to ask, so-“

“I’m so popular with the ladies it puts Derek to shame.”

You can’t hide your surprise. “What? Really?”

Spencer caves. “No. Is it that hard to believe I’m a ladies man?”

“Compared to Derek? Yes.”

Spencer scoffs.

+++

“As adorable as they are, it’s been thirty minutes.” Emily sighs. “I want my drink.”

“They’re bonding,” Jen sends a wistful look, “I’m so proud.”

“I’m guessing Y/N isn’t the most social either?” Derek asks, proudly watching you interact.

“She’s the best, just a little shy sometimes.” She smiles at you, even though you can’t see, “She’s an idiot, but our idiot, you know?”

Both Emily and Derek laugh airily, nodding with a, “Yeah, we know.”

At once, three phones vibrate throughout the bar – Emily, Derek and Spencer. They’re instantly filled with disappointment; Derek can’t watch Spencer attempt to flirt with a girl he’s obviously interested in, Emily still hasn’t got a drink, and Spencer has to leave you and he can’t think of anything worse.

He’s clearly hesitant when he looks at his phone. How does he say goodbye? Does he ask for your number? Would that be weird? That would be weird.

“Uhh…”

You channel every ounce of liquid courage you have in your body and offer, “Would it be weird if I gave you my number? Just.. for anything. Anything at all.”

Spencer nods, a gentle look in his eyes and a smile on his face, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You mumble an alright, accepting Spencer’s phone and creating a new contact for yourself.

Please text me. You think. Please text me.

+++

He doesn’t text.

It’s been a week. A week. You know how cases are, some take longer than others and some are solved in literal hours, but it’s been a week, Spencer goddamn Reid, so why haven’t you texted me.

That’s when the doubt creeps in. Your friends keep telling you he’ll text, that he’s just busy (“He’s an FBI agent, Y/N. If you start dating you’re gonna have to get used to lapses in contact.” To which you’re too distracted choking at the mention of you two dating), but you can’t help but wonder if he took your number simply so he could leave quicker. He had a case to get to, after all. He had people to save.

Now you feel guilty. You forced your number on him, didn’t you? Oh God, he hates you. He hates you and you forced your number on him and he hasn’t texted you because he’s filing a restraining order against you because he hates you.

Mollie tells you you need a nap.

+++

Spencer spends the time on the jet back from the case staring at your number. He has it memorised, of course, and has had it memorised from the first time he read it, of course, but he can’t bring himself to do anything with it.

All he’s done is change your contact picture from the standard first letter of your name to a cute picture of a frog Garcia sent him. It reminds him of you.

Derek lowers his headphones, “You texted her yet, Pretty Boy?”

“Huh? Uh, no. I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer shrugs, locking his phone and placing it face down. “I don’t think anything would come from it.”

“Kid,” Derek leans forward, eyebrows furrowed, “You two talked for well over thirty minutes in the middle of a college bar about God knows what. Maybe I’m easy to impress, but that seemed pretty special to me.”

“How is talking in a college bar worth anything?”

“Because you’re Reid, who, most of the time, has to be physically dragged into a bar. You hate talking to strangers about anything other than work. Y/N? A stranger. What did you two talk about?”

“We talked about you a little.”

“Uhuh. About how good I am at my job?”

“God, no,” Spencer scrunches his nose, “We talked about your charm with the ladies.”

Derek falls back in his chair and scoffs, “I’m flattered, but that doesn’t sound like work-talk to me. So you’re comfortable with her. I saw you laughing, so she makes you laugh, too. Sounds pretty great to me.”

Spencer stares. Derek’s right, but..

“So what is it, Reid?”

Spencer licks his lips. “Do you think she’s too young for me?”

Derek rarely looks taken aback, but he does now, “Too young?”

“She’s in college. I’m-I’m-“

“A legal adult. As is she.”

Spencer slumps. “A 2014 Current Population Survey found the average difference for a heterosexual couple is two-point-three years, with the man older than the woman. Even if you double that, that’s still less than me and Y/N-“

“Four years isn’t a lot, Spence,”

“You just.. you don’t think it’s weird?”

“No. Do you?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Derek’s conviction gives Spencer some reassurance, but he can’t help himself when he thinks that.. maybe.. you’ll find him boring. Most people seem to, with all his statistics and figures and facts, but with the added element of you living it up at college.. how could he compete?

“I think you’re worrying over nothing, Reid. You haven’t even texted her, and you’re already worrying about stuff like age gaps?” Derek crosses his hands and looks at Spencer with determination, “She gave you her number. She initiated it. She knows who you are, so she knows how old you are and it doesn’t seem to make her uncomfortable. So, why should it make you?”

Spencer just grunts.

“Are you worried people will say things?”

“I guess.”

“People always say things. You know that better than anyone. So screw ‘em.”

Spencer feels a smile creep onto his face.

And Derek relaxes. He’s planted the seeds, that Spencer is fretting over nothing, now all he’s got to do is wait for Spencer to let it sink in and allow the flowers to bloom and, next thing you know, Spencer’s gonna have himself the perfect girlfriend.

And Derek will take too much credit for it.

+++

“Heeeeeeeeey my precious Doctor…”

Garcia looks like her hand was caught in the cookie jar.

Spencer’s back straightens. “What did you do?”

She looks embarrassed, fiddling with the fluffy pen in her hand. She smiles awkwardly. “Derek may have told me about a pretty little college student that captured your heart, and then he told me you also haven’t texted her yet, so I did a little digging and…”

“You cyber-stalked Y/N?” Emily asks, casually. JJ seems unphased at the discussion. Does everyone in the office know about you?

“I did. I’m guilty. I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” She’s speaking a mile a minute.

Emily spares Spencer a glance, “Did you find anything?”

“Well…”

Concern fills Spencer. “Did something happen?”

“I just found some stuff she’d probably only tell a close friend and I feel really bad about it.” Her shoulders are by her ears as she tries to fold in on herself out of guilt, “But other than that she’s a genuinely sweet girl who volunteers at pet shelters and the college library in her free time and we have really similar music tastes so I think we’d make great friends.”

They all look to Spencer, waiting for his reaction. What? Is he supposed to be surprised that you’re the epitome of perfect? He’s not. He studied you the entire time you spoke.

“She’s also written several incredible papers on child development that I think are revolutionary and I totally emailed them to you because I think you should read them. She’s also a genius.”

Spencer’s hand twitches. He ignores the sudden need to check his email.

It’s silent as they just stare at him. He doesn’t say anything and tries not to react, but he does. They notice how his eyes flicker to his phone, how his leg fidgets, the longing in his eyes.

Emily brushes her hair back calmly and asks, “Hey, Pen, when does Y/N work at the college library?”

Penelope doesn’t catch on at first, casually replying, “Oh, basically every day from five pm onwards. They’re a twenty-four hour library and she combines working and studying.” When she sees Emily pointedly look at Spencer, she goes ohhh.

“Good to know,” Emily nods, “Good to know.”

+++

Spencer finds himself at the college library that night.

He wants to say it was an accident, or that he just happens to know there’s a special edition of a specific book here, but he’d be lying. He read your papers between reports, and found himself having a deep appreciation for the way you write – he wants to ready everything you’ve ever written. Every essay, every note, every formal and informal piece of work you’ve ever done.

He’s already fallen in love with the way you write. He doesn’t think he’s far from falling in love with you.

He wanders around the lower floor of the library. It’s impressive, he must admit, and he’s disappointed in himself for not visiting earlier. There’s students everywhere, but he notices some other people mixed in too – professors, businesspeople, as well as parents with their children.

He feels a little less weird for creeping around now.

Not that’s he’s creeping. He’s just.. there. To see a certain someone under the guise of looking for a book.

He moseys for a while, from the fiction section to the non-fiction to comics to autobiographies. You’re nowhere to be found – not between the rows of books, not working on any of the desks, not at the centre reception desk.

Until you’re suddenly behind him.

“Spencer?”

He jumps, looking up from the book he’s reading. Your voice is as calming and smooth as always.

“Y/N. Hi.”

“Hi,” Your brows are furrowed, but you’re not disappointed by the unexpected visitor. “What are you doing here?”

He lifts the book he’s holding, an Arthur Conan Doyle, giving a light lipped smile. “I’m just looking. I didn’t realise the college library was so plentiful – did you know the oldest library in the world dates from the seventh century BC?”

“I do, actually.” You point to a poster behind him, which displays that exact fact, “I thought dotting facts around the library would be interesting for the kids. They seem to like them.”

“Learning in young children is socially mediated, so good quality learning environments outside of their schools is crucial for children’s development. So, in a way, you’re enriching their lives beyond understanding.”

You’re flattered at his somewhat far-fetched attempt at complimenting you. It makes your heart flutter.

Why didn’t you contact me, you dimwit?

You open your mouth to ask another question, ask if there’s something he needs help finding, when he beats you to it.

With a firm grip, he slams the book he’s reading shut and says, “I’m lying.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t come here to.. look around. I came here to see you.”

“Oh.”

Spencer doesn’t know what to make of that. You haven’t awkwardly looked away, or stepped back to increase the distance between you. That means something good, right?

“You didn’t text me, so I assumed you weren’t interested.” Your brows twitch, and you back-pedal, “Unless you purposely didn’t text me because you actually weren’t interested and you might be here to see me but for something book-related rather than me-related and I’ve totally humiliated myself.”

“No, no. You’re right. You’re right.” He fiddles with the book in shame, “I should’ve texted you. I just didn’t know what to say and.. Well, it’s stupid.”

Your head jerks a little to the side, something he’s noticed you do a lot, looking patient and too pretty for him to handle. “I��m sure it’s not stupid.”

Spencer thinks back to his conversation with Derek, specifically the reminder that you gave him your number which means you initiated this so yes, you are interested in him.

It’s just.. when he looks at you, he struggles to believe it a little. You’re breath-taking.

“I’m worried I’ll bore you.” He starts light, easing you into what’s been troubling him. He’s emboldened by the fact you’re clearly frustrated he didn’t text you.

You give him a look of horror, “The first time we met I told you I loved your dissertation on geographic regression. I definitely do not think you’re anything anywhere near boring.”

“Okay,” He nods, “What about our ages?”

You’re confused. “What about it?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “It doesn’t.. bother you?”

“Does it.. bother you?”

Usually, answering a question with a question is a sign of deflection, a sign of hiding something. However he doesn’t know why, but Spencer trusts you with his life. Maybe not his life. Maybe his heart.

“Does that silence mean yes?”

He shakes his head, “No. It doesn’t bother me. I just worry that, you know, college years are the so-called best years of your life and I don’t want you to regret being with me, someone older than you, and resent me for it, or something-“

“I think you’re getting way in your head, Spence.” You laugh a little, “We haven’t gone on a single date and you’ve convinced yourself of so much already. For the record, no, your age doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It never has and I doubt it ever will. I think you’re the most fascinating and interesting person on this planet, and if anyone is getting bored with anyone I’m pretty confident it’ll be you getting sick of me. And,” You take a breath, “I think I’m old enough to know what I want, who I want, and what I want is you. If you want me, too.”

Spencer shoves the book back into the bookshelf with a satisfying sound, then turns and quickly places a kiss onto your cheek. It’s completely unexpected and, quite frankly, not something you’d expect from Doctor Reid, but you blush and there’s a definite red colour to Spencer’s cheeks, too.

“I will never, ever, get sick of you.” He says, voice small but firm. “But I don’t want you to regret being with me. Promise me you won’t.”

You give him a look that tells him you think he’s ridiculous. “I promise that I won’t regret being with you. I’d like us to last as long as possible, if I can be picky.”

“I’d like that, too.” He murmurs. The thought of you wanting him for as long as possible almost sends him into a frenzy. He wants to kiss you all over.

You stand close and talk quietly for a while, a little more discussion on a possible date that weekend and a constant stream of compliments from you to Spencer and vice versa, before you realise the time.

“I should probably go. I have a paper to finish.” You smile sadly, a tiny pout forming.

“I understand. Do you think I could read it? When you’re done?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Do you know how terrifying the idea of the Spencer Reid reading my work is? But yes, anything for you.”

Anything for you. Are you trying to kill him?

You turn to leave, refusing to admit how sad leaving Spencer makes you feel, when you stop, “One more thing.”

Spencer hums. He’s not fully paying attention, praying to whatever Gods exist that killers take a break on the weekend so he can take you out on the sweetest date.

“If age is a sore area for you,” There’s mirth in your eyes and Spencer prepares himself, “Does that mean the nickname old man is off the table?”

His lips purse and move towards his nose as he narrows his eyes, giving you a look of faux annoyance, “I am not an old man.”

“Sounds like you’re sensitive, old man.”

As you walk away, you jokingly blow him a kiss to add insult to injury. His pretend glare lasts until your back is turned and he feels his gaze softening to something akin to love.

Spencer thins if the rest of his life is this, you teasing him with that twinkle in your eye and smile on your face, then life is truly the most beautiful thing.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #mine

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hawksky · 3 years

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Gojo Satoru | He Hits You Up After His Ex Dies

A/N: Inspired by this twitter account run by my friend called Bare Minimum Simps. I can’t believe I wrote this (also literally haven’t written anything non academic in 10+ yrs). MANGA SPOILERS, shifted manga timeline to occur in adulthood. I wasn’t going to write this and post so soon but i just want @megumifushi to have some dumb shit to laugh at be nice to her she’s precious.

this is not angst, this is pure crack should not exist

CW: mentions of sex no explicit descriptions

You were honestly surprised to see his name light up your screen. A swarm of butterflies filled your stomach upon hearing the distinct tone -- it was a reflex and honestly you were pretty disgusted with yourself for it. He’s only ever called you for one reason. And he stopped calling you long ago for a very good reason: He started dating the love of his life. The same love of his life that just fell off the deep end leaving Jujutsu Tech behind. The very same love of his life that just died, by his own hands, in front of a KF fucking C.

You answer the call, voice tentative, truly unsure what was on the other end of line.

“Gojo? Are you alright? Why are you calling me?” You were friends, but you hadn’t heard from him since he killed Suguru; he spent most of his days bouncing between Shoko and Nanami.

“Aw princess” He crooned. You berated yourself for the way face burned at the sound of his voice calling you that long forgotten nickname. Suguru’s body is barely cold and here you are nervous like a high schooler again “I thought you’d be happy to hear from me after all this time! Sorry we never got to the threesome you always wanted, but I thought there’s no reason we can’t --”

You cut him off, shocked that he could be so glib, that he would even think to suggest this. “I know you’ve lost a lot recently Gojo, and I’m here for you. I really am” You stress your words as you sit there wide eyed barely able to wrap your mind around what you’re hearing “but have you lost your goddamn mind? He’s barely been gone and you’re already thinking of having sex with me?” “Ah y/n-chan, Sugu would’ve wanted this for me, really I’m just honouring him by attempting to honour your body. I haven’t touched you in sooo long” His voice suddenly shifts, any attempt at keeping this conversation light abandoned “I miss your soft gasps as I enter you, watching your unaffected facade drop with the lightest touch, the way you look bouncing on top of me, how pretty it is to watch you cry and beg for release”

You get lost in his voice, in the image he painted, the way his vulgar words didn’t match the reverence in his voice. You let it go on for too long before you return to your senses. “Sato, what are you even saying right now? How is this even on your mind? Do you have even a little bit of trauma?” There’s a pause. You close your eyes in an attempt to brace yourself for whatever response could have him thinking this hard. “My trauma has nothing to do with me wanting to have sex with you, can a poor widower not be horny?” You slump against your couch, shaking your head in disbelief “You’re truly hopeless, and a gigantic asshole, I can’t believe I was worried about you for even a second” Another beat of silence fills the air.

“Soooooo I’ll be at your place in 10?” “... Yeah my door code is the same” you respond in defeat before ending the call.

You get up and begin to pace around, trying to burn off the nervous excitement bubbling inside of your body, feeling betrayed by all parts of yourself in this moment. Was it truly this easy to fall into Gojo again? How strong was his hold over you that you could abandon the bare minimum morality with almost no effort? Why did him calling you for this make you feel special and warm inside?

You pinch your nose in shame before peering out at the setting sun over the Tokyo skyline. You hoped he was right about Suguru wanting this, or else your eternal damnation was going to be a whole lot more awkward.

@sandyscastle @nokkusu

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen crack #jjk crack #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #past gojo x geto #geto suguru #shitposting hours who up always me

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fanfictiondreamscape · 4 years

Text

First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 1)

Title: First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 1)

Genre: fluff, tons of it

Pairing: Sugawara/Tsukishima/Yaku/Akaashi/Kunimi x reader (all separate)

Notes: Nothing too unusual, but I thought that I’d start the posting to get something on the page. Whether it gets read, we’ll find out, but I couldn’t help myself. Onto the cliche headcanons. (I may do more of these, but for the time being, this will only consist of my top five characters in the anime). Quick note: some of these may be longer than others.

Only a forewarning, but inspiration hit harder in certain areas, y’know.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Masterlist

Sugawara Koushi

ok so

hear me out here, but I think that - for this to happen - it’d be with someone very shy.

someone that’s very shy and reserved while also remaining very aloof and observant

(maybe even a little sarcastic?)

like...he’d be attracted to their air, y’know?

as for the kiss...

the kiss itself would be done somewhere fairly private. and a little covered in shadow

someplace like the back row of a movie theater or the hidden corner of a cafe or restaurant. maybe even out in public when nobody’s outside (read: late night walk in the park)

like seriously, just imagine that, i swear-

ANYWAYS

the two of you would be holding hands, he’d be admiring you while you’re doing whatever you do

he thinks everything you do is adorable, and he can’t help but admire you

it’s only when you notice his googly eyes that you let him know that you know he was staring

he’d blush a little, but remain generally composed.

the quiet would be broken very suddenly by suga

“your so cute when you’re focused.”

little did you know, you were pouting.

he found that the most adorable.

he continued to watch you as you turned your eyes to the floor

oH BOY DID HIS HEART FLUTTER-

he couldn’t help himself.

time seemed to slow down as you looked up and he leaned in closer.

eventually, the two of you were staring into each others eyes

and once he peeked down for a millisecond, he kissed you

the kiss itself was very sweet, very gentle, but also had a slight bite to it?

(how am I supposed to explain this? does this even make any sense?)

as it got more passionate, he cupped your cheek with his hand as you gripped his shoulder lightly

as the two of you pulled away from each other, everything around you was a little blurry

even through the shadows, he could see that you were blushing a firetruck red

(little did he know, he was blushing the same color)

overall, the first kiss between you two would be very romantic and very sweet.

considering it’s suga, though, prepare for a little teasing and a tight hug afterwards.

Tsukishima Kei

THIS BOI I SWEAR-

it’s a well known fact that this beanpole is very obnoxious and snarky

so his s/o would be very much the same

maybe not as introverted, but very much sarcastic and witty

in order to last with this smartass, you’d have to be intelligent and have thick skin

good luck

otherwise, the kiss would most likely happen somewhere very private.

like his s/o’s room or his room, or when they’re home alone.

just somewhere very private and comfy

now here’s the thing-

i think the kiss itself would happen in the midst of a debate

something to throw the other off, y’know?

sooo...

the TV is playing in the background, probably some movie with a huge plot hole

it annoys both of you, but the two of you have two different opinions of how the plot hole could be fixed.

like...

you’re claiming that the timeline could be fixed had they found a certain item before a different one

and he’s claiming that the timeline could be fixed without the inclusion of either item

a whole back-and-forth ensues

the kiss itself though

that happens when you are starting to hesitate with comebacks and reasoning

like-

you know you’re right, but he’s pressing your buttons so much

the timeline is heavily dependent on the items that you stand by, so

(though he won’t admit it, he knows that the items are beneficial to the plot, and he’s only doing this to see you get flustered and red)

since tsukki’s not backing down, you decide that you have to do something drastic

something that’ll make the smart mouth speechless

so you decide that the time is now

when he’s looking at you with that smug look on his face, his mouth just slightly opened and about to make some baseless remark

you lean in and kiss him

it’s very short, very light

but now that he is shocked, you’re happy.

except...

he regains his composure and tilts your head to meet him

he kisses you this time

this time, its very passionate, a little rough, and a little messy

but the both of you enjoy it very much

the two of you act like nothing happened, but it’s the little moments like that that make the two of you happy

and you two tend to kiss and get a little more clingy in private-

overall, very short and kind of sneaky.

there’s still love behind it, of course

but there’s no real ‘pause’ or slowing of time until the second kiss

Yaku Morisuke

now-

i believe that this guy would be drawn to someone that’s very bubbly and energetic

not like yamamoto or lev, but very high-energy and outgoing

which also leads to the setting

A VOLLEYBALL GAME!

who tf would’ve guessed, oh my-

so like, the team is going up against a really powerful and notoriously defensive team

and while Nekoma is going HARD

they’re still behind

the sets were even and the odds did not seem to be in their favor

you’re in the stands, next to the mini yamamoto and lev’s sister

cheering loudly, helping lev’s sister understand the game a little better

anyway...

things are getting tough, and they call a time out

when Nekoma goes to their spot to discuss

you make eye contact with yaku

and you send him a thumbs up while mouthing ‘you got this!’

he sends you a big smile

and his upbeat mood almost completely lifts the slowly dengenerating one of the team

so when they are done elaborating a game plan following the slight loss of a flow

the members in play go onto the court rejuvenated.

with the new energy, they’re able to snag the lead

and, with a three-point difference, they win 25-22

a close call, but they’re excited nonetheless.

so are you and the girls that you were cheering with

as soon as they are finished lining up and people start to leave

you immediately run out of the gym and wait by the doors for your boyfriend and the team to come out

when they do, yaku comes out a little after the other team members

it’s your squeal that shocks him

the kiss happens when you jump onto him

(think something like the falling kiss between victor and yuuri from YOI)

kind of rough, slight teeth, but very romantic and passionate.

nothing bordering on lustful, but most definitely NOT shy

it would eventually mellow out to be more gentle and tame

the scene would lead to mixed reactions from the team, but

you can be sure that kuroo would have some smart remark, lev would have a dumb remark, and yamamoto would be fussing that he doesn’t have a girl

overall, while the kiss would be surprising and rough at first, it would calm down a lot

very romantic, very shocking, but also very memorable

ok but on another note, can something like this happen to me please-

Akaashi Keiji

ok now

this guy would probably be drawn to someone very laidback

kind of chaotic (think quiet chaos)

and very outgoing

like, someone like beck from victorious?

oh god, it’s all coming back to me now-

not so flirty and borderline flighty, but they’d carry the same air that beck does

otherwise, the kiss would probably happen when the two of you are in a private area of something

like a friendly outing or something, and bokuto would be acting like a fool with kuroo or another team member

so like-

the two of you would be cuddled up next to each other silently

maybe like in a less-obvious area

someplace hidden

and you’d just be doing your own thing

playing on your phone, reading, maybe even studying with the pretty setter

either way, you’re absorbed in your work

just as much as he is

though he has been taking slight peeks at you while you were doing whatever

it was distracting him

and he was trying to read

just imagine him thinking

‘they’re so pretty when they’re focused’

you don’t realize that he’s staring at you, but you do eventually are made aware of someone looking at you

with this guy being how he is, he’d probably just keep looking if you made eye contact with him

you’d laugh, he’d turn a little red

ultimately, though, he’d lean forward despite the flustered reaction.

he’d pause in front of you, just watching your lips twitch up into a small smile

a little nod would be the unspoken allowance that he was asking for.

now.

THE KISS

HOO BOY

i imagine that this would be magical

like-

the sparks never leave even after a couple hours.

even then, the remaining sparks are like little fairies that won’t leave your side.

it’s slow, it’s soft, it’s romantic

it’s also not the most gentle, not the most experienced, not the most clean (for lack of a better word)

but it’s everything that either of you could’ve asked for

when the two of you pull away, you giggle a little

akaashi smiles a little

(you know the one!)

anyway, after the kiss

you two would be made aware of the people around you

like bokuto

who is screaming “YEAH! FINALLY!”

you full on bust out laughing and akaashi rolls his eyes

(he may appear bothered, but he finds it endearing)

he does keep a slightly tighter grip on you after that though

overall, his kiss, in my opinion would be the best

if not THE best, then ONE of the best (next to yaku’s oop-)

very smooth, but very inexperienced

while also remaining so unabashedly him, y’know?

Kunimi Akira

now, i haven’t seen as much love for this guy

while i may be missing it or not looking in the right place, i thought i’d contribute to the kunimi train

ANYWAYY

i think he’d go for a bookworm

not necessarily quiet or loud, but very much to themselves.

someone whose shell would have to break

kunimi would probably be best friends with his s/o before he even thought of wanting to date them

and much like suga, i think that the first kiss would happen somewhere slightly private

by slightly private, i mean an area that couples would be plentiful

amusement parks, regular parks, you get it

either way, the area wouldn’t change the kind of kiss

since he is so quiet, i feel like he’d find a way to just relax with you

in a place that is ironically romantic (considering he doesn’t care too much)

that being said, i imagine that this would happen on the ferris wheel

cliche, i know, but just let me elaborate

it’d be getting dark, the two of you would have been at the amusement park with your friends

or maybe even upperclassmen

either way, you two have finally gotten a break from the personalities

and you just want time with each other

no talking, just calm and quiet

anyway, on your search to find something quiet to do

kunimi sees the ferris wheel and notices that the line isn’t very long

(perfect for him, seeing as his laziness is a factor written in the wiki-)

he directs your attention to it in a way that involves little words, and you agree to his suggestion

after a few minutes of waiting, you two get seated and just sit in silence

throughout the whole ride (up to this point), kunimi was looking at you

observing how the sunset makes you glow in the light

how the carnival lights reflect in your eyes

and he melts

you wouldn’t notice it since you are so absorbed in the view of the event

and he is absorbed in the view of you

now, here’s where things get odd

he wouldn’t know how to approach the thought of your first kiss when it crosses his mind

all he knew is that he refused to plan it, the idea struck him, and the timing was perfect.

so.

he just reaches for you hand, and when you turn to look at him

he quickly leans in and pecks your lips

short, sweet, but full of love

definitely leaves the both of you flustered, but

you two do end up scooting a little closer to you after it

and spend the rest of the night at each other’s hip

overall, the kiss is very quick

don’t let that fool you, though, especially with kunimi

the kiss is perfect coming from him, and wouldn’t be the slightest bit overwhelming

it’d leave for more calm atmosphere between the two of you

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angellbarnes · 4 years

Text

As Red as Snow

pairing: Bucky x reader

words: 2.3k

warnings: language, blood and injuries, character death, angst

A/N: sooo it’s been a while since my last post but I’m finally finding some more inspiration. Apologies in advance but this idea just came to me so hopefully you like this and as usual let me know what you think! 🤍 P.s. I changed my username (used to be thinkingofbuckybarnes)

If you were told to imagine yourself walking through crisp, white snow in the arms of the man you’d hopelessly fallen in love with, it would be a beautiful scene...

You’d leave behind two sets of footprints. The snow-tipped trees would climb high into the oranges and pinks of the drowsy sky and the chilled air would contrast from the warm body you were engulfed by. You would head to a small cabin in the forest, perfect for the two of you to spend the night in.

However, if you were told that one of you had been shot, and that one of you would die at the end of this, that would affect the story a bit, wouldn’t it?

You leave behind two sets of footprints, the pure white snow now stained with blood. The trees appear to loom over you now, casting shadows and darkness in torment as the biting winds seem to be testing the both of you. You stumble through the snow, towards a cabin that you can only hope you will reach alive.

“Jesus, where the fuck is this place?” You breath out in frustration, which emits a slight chuckle from Bucky.

“Calm down doll, Steve said it’s only a short distance.”

“Yeah, well a short distance doesn't mean walking for over half an hour while it’s getting dark, with two cases of hypothermia, one knife wound and three bullet wounds between the two of us.” Your voice raises with every word and his thumb starts slowly rubbing your shoulder where his arm is around you.

“We don’t have hypothermia and the injuries aren’t that bad.” He tries to reassure you but you’re having none of it.

“Oh yeah? Tell that to your bleeding stomach and leg.” You take a few deep breaths as you make your way through the seemingly endless forest. “You’re lucky your dumb ass is a super soldier.” You mumble as you eye the blood that seeps from underneath his other arm, clutching his stomach.

“There, see it?” He points to a small wooden structure ahead. “Told you it wasn’t much further.” He smirks down at your and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever.”

You step through the doorway and lead Bucky, holding onto him and wincing as he limps towards the sofa. He lets himself sink onto it and sighs as the weight is lifted off his feet. You realise you’re staring and quickly busy yourself, trying to find a medical kit.

“Steve says it’s in the cabinet on the right side of the bed.” You hear Bucky call through and you rush to the bedroom. Thank god this place is a bungalow, you think.

“Got it.” You call back once you’ve found it and you make your way back to Bucky and his wounded state.

“Mind getting me a towel as well? This stuff ain’t stopping.” He jokes and you grab a couple towels from the bathroom. White.

“Shit, Buck, it’s getting worse.” You apply pressure on his wounds with the towel, letting the blood soak into it, turning pure white red, just like the snow.

“I’ll be fine. How’s your shoulder?”

“Fine. Just a small cut.” You open the medical kit, pulling out a needle and thread, bandages and anything you think would be useful. “Okay, so I’ve never done this before and now I’m about to stitch up three bullet wounds for the first time. Sorry in advance.” Despite your attempt at a light-hearted comment, your tone and face remains serious, which Bucky picks up on.

“You’ll do great. Just stop the bleeding and don’t kill me.” He chuckles at himself but quite frankly you’re too concerned to reciprocate it.

Finally, many stitches, groans, curses and excessive apologies later, you’ve successfully stitched him up.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad.” You say, visibly letting a lot of tension in your body go and falling back on your knees.

“Try being the one being sewn up.” Bucky retaliates.

“Try being the one sewing up another person!” You can’t hide the faint smile that grows on your face. A silence, a comfortable silence, falls between the two of you for a moment, before Bucky snaps you out of your trance.

“Your turn.” He pushes himself so he’s sat upright, groaning as he does so. You’re quick to grab onto him, once again worried.

“I told you, it’s only a slight cut. I’m fine, Buck.” Bucky raises an eyebrow obstinately and you knew he wasn’t going to let you leave it.

“Come here.” He nods his head to the space next to him and you roll your eyes before taking a seat beside him, medical kit in your lap. “Let me see.”

You slowly push your shirt over your shoulder, revealing the bleeding gash from a knife. In all honesty, it’s slightly worse than you thought. You hiss as he begins to clean it but, as much as it stings, Bucky’s gentle hand takes away from the pain of your shoulder.

“It’s not too deep. Should heal easily enough. It’ll leave a scar though.” He finishes by putting a bandage over it, resting his hand atop for somewhat longer than necessary.

“What’s one more scar, right? Thank you.” You say, “Maybe I should cook us some dinner.” As you stand up a hand grabs yours, and you fall straight into his big blue eyes.

“You saved my life, you know.”

With all your words suddenly caught in your throat, all you can do is lean down and press a delicate kiss to his cheek. But as you pull away from him he instantly pulls you onto his lips and the warmth of his against yours sends electricity through your veins.

You can still feel him on your lips when you pull away and, without a word, you leave to the kitchen. Though it doesn't help much that it’s open plan, and about six feet away from the sofa.

“That was...” You begin, boiling some water and putting the pan on the stove.

“Something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now.” Bucky finishes. You keep your back to him and let your eyes widen in surprise, unsuccessfully hiding the smile creeping onto your lips.

“Oh?” You start rummaging through the fridge and cupboards for anything to cook, settling on pasta. Plain, due to the lack of anything else. “You’d think Tony would have more choice for food.”

“It’s just- I hope I haven’t ruined anything.”

“No, you haven’t. I... actually feel the same.” You turn back to him, rubbing the back of your neck.

“You do?” You nod in reply. Pouring the pasta into the pan and leaving it, you walk back over to Bucky. You take his face in both your hands and let your forehead fall on his.

“I was so scared earlier. So scared that I might’ve lost you. There was so much blood and I know that you’re a super soldier and everything but you can still die and I tried to stay calm but I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t help being scared and I-”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m okay.” He wipes a fallen tear from your cheek and smiles, so softly, and you let yourself calm down.

“God, I’m sorry.” You get up to check the pasta, “I don’t know why I’m being so emotional. I just- when it comes to you, I don’t know, there’s something in me that wants to make sure you’re always okay.” You admit, “When you’re happy, I feel happy and when you’re sad, I want to make you feel better. Just ignore me.” You try to laugh the feelings off as you serve the pasta, suddenly feeling two grips on your waist. You spin around quickly to come face to face with him, towering over you in the least intimidating way possible. Only adoration is in his eyes.

“Careful, Bucky, your injuries-”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s nice, hearing how you feel about me. I was going to start off smaller and say that I think I’m falling for you but, goddamn it, I’m in love with you, Y/N.” His confession leaves you speechless with but a grin on your face and you lean up as he leans down, meeting halfway to share a deep, hungry, passionate kiss.

“We should eat. It’ll get cold.” You murmur into his lips, still in a daze from how utterly intoxicating he is.

Halfway through the blandest meal you’ve ever eaten, an uneasy feeling arises in you. You focus on your breathing, reassuring yourself that it’s just post-traumatic stress from the mission.

“You okay? You’ve stopped eating.” Bucky says and you nod reassuringly.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Not very hungry anymore.” He smiles and gets up to take your plate and his empty one to the sink. You start to zone out slightly before a sudden smashing of plates and cutlery startles you. You rush to where Bucky is on the floor, pieces of plate and pasta scattered in front.

“Oh my god, Bucky, what happened? Shit, you shouldn’t be moving around! I shouldn’t have let you take the plates. Screw that, I shouldn’t have let you get off the sofa.” You help him up, flinching with every grunt that comes from him, and lead him back to the sofa. You help him to lie down again and he screws his face, visibly in pain.

As you go to clear up the mess, a sudden cough erupts from your stomach, the kind that hurts your throat when you do.

“The cold out there really got to you, huh?” Bucky comments.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You reply, with a small laugh.

“Ow, agh, seems like a couple stitches have ripped.” He then says and you hurry back over to check, and then fix him. More blood and stitches later, you then finish clearing the kitchen and seat yourself down, giving yourself a breather, feeling rather heated up after all the rushing around.

“Hey you look a little pale, maybe you should lie down? You were injured too and you’ve been doing a lot since getting here.”

“I’m fine, and my injury isn’t even that bad, I promise.” You reassure, though you feel your eyelids become heavy.

“You should sleep; it’ll be good for you. I would come and join but I think it’s best if I stay and sleep here tonight.”

“Okay but shout if you need anything, okay? Don’t want you getting any worse.”

“I promise. Now come and kiss me goodnight.” You smirk and give him a tender, lingering kiss.

“Goodnight, my love.” He coos.

“Goodnight. You’ll be okay.” You whisper back, as your throat feels abruptly tighter. Bucky smiles up at you, seeing yours back at him and he can’t help how lucky he feels.

What he doesn’t see, though, is how your face falters when you turn around, how you walk to the bedroom having to put all of your energy into each step. He doesn’t see the sheer terror in your face once you’re out of his sight, now struggling for each breath without trying to make a sound. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and the tears from your cheeks as you get out a pen and paper, unable to control your quivering hands.

‘I’m sorry. I love you.’

You get under the covers and try so hard to ignore the burning sensation that’s running through your blood, fighting back screams of agony that now sear the back of your throat. You cover your mouth with your hand, choking back sobs and letting your tears stream because you don’t want Bucky to walk in and see you struggling for your life.

Because he didn’t see you on that mission when the guard you thought was dead tackled you once more, sticking a needle in the side of your neck before you put him down for good.

You know that he will find you, though, your cold, lifeless body awaiting him in the morning. He’ll call for you to see if you’re awake and after no answer he’ll stagger to the bedroom to make sure you’re all right. He’ll fall to his knees and grasp your hand in his, begging for this to be some horrible nightmare, sobbing on the phone to Steve, who can’t make out a single word of what he’s saying.

He’ll read the note and wonder what the hell happened to you. He’ll have to wait until Tony and Bruce run tests to analyse what caused it. He won’t know that you thought you were alright because the poison didn’t kick in straight away. He’ll blame himself for not realising or asking. He’ll hate himself for not starting a relationship with you sooner, for not protecting you enough, for not cherishing you enough.

And you spend your lasts moments wondering what could’ve happened if you weren't seconds from such a painful death; a future with Bucky. You would return back to the compound and take care of him until his wounds have healed. You would train together and end up making out instead. Your first date? Who knows, maybe he would propose one day, down on one knee with a hopeful smile and tears glossing over his eyes. You’d move in together and share so many amazing and intimate moments, from laughing over the smallest things, creating inside jokes, to each and every kiss you share, and comforting him when he wakes from his nightmares. Even the fights and arguments you would have.

Somehow picturing him numbs the pain, and it starts to grow dull. Your heart rate begins to slow. Your hand gently falls from your mouth. Your struggling ceases and your tears gradually stop. As does your breathing, your heart, your body, and, finally, your thoughts of Bucky as they slowly fade into darkness.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fic #marvel fic #marvel imagine #angst #bucky x y/n #winter soldier

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to-many-fandoms-cant-pick-one · 4 years

Text

so little note as for the inspiration for this little drabble piece...

My cat Floyd- was feral his first three months of life, and so he is very funny when it comes to excessive affection (even though he’s been with us almost a year now)- and I figured it was how Michael would maybe interact with his S/O

Warning ⚠️: I’m still new at this when it comes to writing about Mikey’s behavior so bear with me if he’s a tad bit OOC.

———————————————————————

Grooming Day~ (RZ!Michael Myers x Reader Oneshot)

It was time again- time to go see if Mikey felt like cooperating today. If I was lucky, he would allow me to talk to him, maybe even groom him a bit...though that would take a hell of a lot of patience on his end. And a lot of unfiltered bravery in mine.

I grabbed the cell keys from my locker (the set of keys that Loomis had given to me begrudgingly after Michael made it clear he seemed to have no intention of killing me...yet) and began to make my way down the depressing corridors to Michael’s too small lodgings.

‘I honestly don’t know how he hasn’t punched through the wall by now, I’m WAY shorter than he is and I even get claustrophobic in there’ I mused as I approached the door.

I paused just long enough to tap out a quiet pattern on the door to let Michael know I was entering his room- none of the other guards could keep up with my patterns so I used that as a code system that I switched out every week, (and I kept doing this no matter how much Loomis scolded me for it.) Slowly pushing the metal slab of steel open I found the behemoth sitting with his back to me at his little desk working on a mask. Michael’s artistic ability never ceased to amaze me, and even though the other staff members constantly talk shit about his masks, I found that if you looked close enough you could find all the small intricate patterns he would paint on the cheeks or forehead of his paper mache creations.

“Michael, it’s me (Y/N),” I slowly crept forward, allowing the man in front of me to process what I was saying before continuing to make my cautious movements to stand beside him- making sure to stand close to his bed. “Nod your head to let me know you understand what I’m saying Mikey.”

The last thing I wanted to do was get in Mike’s personal space without letting him know first- because the last time I made that mistake I ended up with a cracked rib (because I flew into the wall like a rag doll) and very aggravated Michael who had placed his hand in the center of my chest and shoved me away from him- because I was dumb enough to put my hand on him without his permission.

Slowly Michael not only nodded his head; but turned around to look at me his blue eyed gaze stabbing me with its intensity. Even though my interactions with Mikey were harmless for the most part- that didn’t stop his predatory gaze from causing me to momentarily freeze up in fear.

It was only instinct...

“How we doing today big guy?” I said lying my hand in his forearm in a friendly welcome. He looked at where I was touching him then lifted a three fingers to mimic the gentle affection I was giving him on his arm- his long fingers wrapping all the way around my wrist, giving it a testing squeeze.

I was happy to see no one else was really on duty in this corridor today- it would only prove to be a problem if stabby man decided he suddenly wanted to kill me- but other guards was what typically annoyed him on my visits. Their stares and open chatter about he’d never behaved like this with anyone before- it made him feel weak.

So reinforcement in the means of extra bodies wasn’t an option. That just left me and the 6’8” somewhat “gentle giant” by ourselves.

He shifted in his seat and stood up to his full height- Michael did this every time I came to visit him- it was his way of silently reminding me who was in charge here- and it wasn’t me. I knew and understood that very well- I would never be in control of Michael Myers- he tolerated me being around him, and I was grateful to him for even giving me that.

“I want to brush your hair today, maybe shave you a bit- is that ok? I could just keep you company if you don’t want me that close or-“ before I could finish my unintelligible rambling Myers plopped down on his bed and cocked his head to the side as if to say “Well are you going to start or what?”

I gave him a soft smile and climbed onto his bed behind him easing my back to lean against the wall as I began to dampen Michaels mane of dirty blonde knots, and after putting in some oil and leave in conditioner- began gently working through his mats and tangles- ending his first part of grooming by giving his hair a quick trim and putting it in a loose braid.

Now came the harder part- shaving Mikey’s facial hair. He absolutely hated it when I got to close to his jugular- I imagine any strong predator would, it makes him feel too vulnerable.

I scooted my self of the bed and walked around to stand in between Mike’s legs before beginning to speak.

“Hey bud, you did really well with the first part of this, let’s see if you hold still for this. I’ll try to be quick so you won’t be uncomfortable for to long...ok?” I cooed beginning to trim the small beard he’d begun to sprout in the last few weeks.

He twitched slightly as I gently applied the thick shaving cream to his skin making sure to massage it into his jaw line before ceasing to observe my work- and to see how good old Mikey was holding up. I could see how tightly wound up his body was- corded muscle tensing up and shifting underneath his clothes, he was holding himself together as best as he could...but this self restraint wouldn’t hold for long. His knuckles were stark white as he gripped the edge of his bed and I mentally prepared myself for if he were to strike me right now.

I inhaled shakily looking in those blue eyes- their lack of expression making me feel as though I’d been dunked in cold water then left in a icy wasteland. There would be no fire and no fresh change of clothes leaving me doomed to die of hypothermia.

But for a moment I saw something slightly tender, as he read the openly unanswered question in my eyes “can I touch you?”. He suddenly reached out to grab me, and I let out a yelp of surprise...I’d been so caught up in his eyes I didn’t even notice him move, and watched in awe as he guided my hand holding the five blade razor to his jaw.

I let out a relieved huff of air- some would even call the exhalation a very breathy laugh- and quickly got to work on shaving Mike’s face. Especially because he seemed to be in a good mood today, but I still made sure to take my time with near his Adam’s Apple and jugular as to avoid cutting to close or pushing down to hard.

Soon enough the deed was done, as I cleaned off Michael’s face of any excess shavings or shaving cream- and applying some aftershave I simply gawked at the handsome man for a solid minute or two- before I noticed his gaze flit away from mine to shyly pick at some of the sealer he frequently used on his masks that was stuck to his hands.

Because Mikey was clearly in a good mood already, today I decided I could afford to make some rather bold choices such as reaching out to cup Michael’s large head in my small hands and lift his chin to make him look at me- relishing the soft feel of his freshly shaved face against my palms.

“Michael Audrey Myers-I still get the feeling you don’t realize just how handsome you are... you definitely wouldn’t bother wearing those masks if you did.” I said softly, the pads running over his cheekbones.

He looked at me then- his eyes looking a little less glacier like than they usually do. His arms swiftly wrapped around my waist and he allowed himself to flop fully onto his bed, deciding that he was now going to use me like a stuffed animal for the rest of the time that was with him today.

Guess I won’t be moving until shift change...not that I was complaining at all.

———————————————————————

Author’s Note: I had originally posted this fic to a new blog of mine- called gigglemyers (which I have now deleted) but I didn’t like that tumblr kept pulling it out of the tags because my blog was new SOOO I just decided to start using this one again- and let it turn into absolute chaos.

Sound cool? Okay good- because with this much content from different communities this blog is going to turn into a real mess, real quick. Just a heads up! ☺️

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #micheal #myers #big boi #rob zombie #rz!michael myers #rz!michael myers x reader #him a big scruffy man #he needs cuddles change my mind

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t-lostinworlds · 4 years

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Hi there! I hope you are doing well:) I've been reading your work for a while, and you're such an incredible actor. I was wondering if you could give some tips and tricks to new writers? I published my first fic and im super nervous haha. only if you want to though! no pressure at all :)

hello hun! 🥰 and i’m doing alright ahaha but gosh 🥺 thank you lovely, that’s so sweet of you honestly. and omg! congrats on posting your first fic hun! that’s take courage honestly and i’m so proud of you for that ❤️ and of course! i won’t be going into actual details because then i’d be writing another essay ahah but anyway, i’ve already posted how i plot my fics -> here so you can refer to that too.

always write what you want to write. you can take requests of course but you are not obligated to write them if you are not feeling it. never force yourself to write what you don’t want. you’ll fall out of love of writing if you do that because then it will feel like a job.

take your time and enjoy the process. don’t rush to the finish line just for the sake of wanting to post something. only post whenever you feel like it and whenever you want to share your work.

read read read. it helps you improve and get inspired. it helps you learn some different styles on how some authors write which can help you find your own style too.

always do some research on things you aren’t familiar with. know your facts so the fic won’t look too unrealistic. use pictures as references for places, clothes etc. it helps you explain things in much greater detail which helps paint a clearer picture of what you want your readers to see.

it’s totally okay if your work is so messy and not so detailed at first. it’s okay if it’s all just words jumbled together just so you can get the idea on where it will go. because you can always improve it when you go back to edit.

i’ve learned to do this thing where after i finish a fic, i never post it right away. i leave it for a couple of hours, sometimes even days and not think about it. so that when i go back to re-read it again to proofread and edit, it’s would be somewhat fresher in the eyes and in the mind. which will only help it improve some more.

don’t dwell on numbers. you can appreciate it of course but don’t make it out to be this big deal. the quality of your fic is never fully determined with the number of notes it gets. what’s more important is that you loved writing it and you love re-reading it.

if you lose inspiration on a certain work then it’s okay to leave it for now and move on to other ideas that sparks your interest. don’t put yourself through hell of forcing yourself to stick to a certain fic even when your mind is blank because then you’ll end up frustrated and don’t get to work on anything at all.

but also, if you’re inspiration really high and stuck to one single project then write to your hearts content. stick with it until it gets done.

I’ve got sooo many WIPs and ideas so what I do is i open the ones I want to do (sometimes I open them all lmao) and jump between them just to get a feel. what usually happens is I find myself sticking to one fic much longer than the rest, or sometimes, i forget i have other docs opened while i’m writing that certain fic because inspo just flows. so, i have that fic as my chosen one to finish first and close the others for next time. I then stick to that one fic for days until i get it done.

if you don’t feel like writing, then don’t force yourself to write. do other things, watch videos, movies, bake, anything. because sometimes, when you’re in the middle of something you suddenly get inspired and go “huh, i want to write something” and that’s when you write.

but also, try and get a few words in every day. no matter if it’s only 100 words or 1000. i’ve got a daily reminder that tells me to write at least 500 words every single day, whether it’s for a one shot or to continue a series. i just open my WIPs and see where it goes, maybe I’ll add something, maybe I won’t. But sometimes, for me at least, whenever I don’t feel like writing but I open a doc and go over what I’ve written, it sparks inspiration out nowhere and then the next thing i know I’m already halfway through a fic.

i don’t know if this will work for everyone but change the device where you write every once in a while. i jump between my phone and my laptop when i write. because sometimes when i stare at my laptop screen i don’t have the urge to write, but the moment i transfer to my phone then words just flow right out and vice versa. idk why that is but i always get a different feel when I write on my phone and on my laptop.

last thing i want to say for now (because this is getting really long haha) write because you love and enjoy it. don’t do it for numbers, don’t do it because it’s what everyone is doing. do it because you want to tell and share your stories. do it because it makes you happy, it helps you escape to a whole new world. simply do it for your own pleasure.

that’s it for now ahah but if you’ve got specific questions or want me to talk further about specific things like overcoming writers block, dialogues etc. then you are always welcome to pop up in my inbox, love 🥰

#long post #i hope this helped ❤️#answered asks #answered: anon #writing #writing resources #writing help

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liivkiss · 4 years

Text

The prologue to a story I probably won't continue ...

Sooo... After years of creating an account, but only beginning to actually use it a few months ago, I decided to make a post. But, before the story itself, some information: - English isn’t my first language. Then, you will probably find some (or many) errors; - It is a Harry Potter’s fic inspired by the story "Bone of the Father (Blood of the Enemy)" by Ellory on AO3; - This is just the prologue to a story that I'm not sure will continue, but I have several ideas for that. It will probably be called "Blood and Magic (make us a family)" - If you like it and want to continue or use it as inspiration for something, just let me know. At the end I will put some of my ideas for this story. I hope you like it, anyway!

----------

Grapevines: For Intoxication and Bonds

Halina was sitting on her bed (if you can call it that) in the smallest room in the Dursleys' house. In front of her, a hand mirror was resting on the pillows.

In the mirror, instead of her reflection, Sirius Black's image, her Godfather and one of the last connections with her parents, glowed like a computer or TV screen. But it was magic.

She really loves magic…

Sirius told her that Headmaster Dumbledore believed it would be safer if he didn’t contact Halina, since he was a fugitive criminal in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic, but he couldn’t do that. He failed with her as Godfather once, he wouldn’t do it again.

There was a lot to teach her about the magical world, especially since she didn't grow up in this world.

"Magic Inheritances aren’t transmitted only by words, by someone simply named their Heir." Sirius said calmly to her.

He wasn’t exactly happy with her treatment at the Dursleys, but neither of them had what they needed to get her out. Then, he taught it through the two-way mirror. What she owned now belonged to her father, James Potter.

“A connection, formed by bonds of Blood and Magic, is necessary for the Family Magic pass for the child.”

“So… How did you manage to make me the Heiress Black? Aren't we related? We are?” She tilted her head slightly to the right, frowning.

Sirius laughed a little. She liked to see Sirius smiling. He always seemed a little lighter when he did that. “We are, distantly, but we are.” He replied, still with a smile on his face "But that wouldn’t be enough to make you my Heiress."

*x*x*x*x*x*

"Let's go together, then." Halina said, looking at Cedric.

“Together?” The blond boy asked, confused.

"We touch the cup at the same time. We make Hogwarts the winner of the Tournament. Together." She answered.

"That sounds like a great idea for me." He smiled charmingly, as he always did for everyone.

She never really liked that. It looked so rehearsed. Malfoy's smirks seemed more honest than Cedric's empty smile. They always talk about how kind the boy was, but he never helped her with all the mockery and obvious bullying she suffered, even before that year.

But, well, nobody helped her. He wasn’t different.

“At three?” Cedric asked

“Yes.”

“One…” The Hufflepuff started counting.

“Two…” She took a deep breath.

“Three!” Both said simultaneously, touching the Cup together. She felt a twinge in his navel and the world around her turned.

*x*x*x*x*x*

“See, Hali…” Sirius started to explain “Between biological magical parents and children the blood connection, which I imagine is obvious here, and the magic connection happens naturally. Unless, of course, something happens to prevent this. But this is rare.”

Sirius waved his hand in front of his face with a nervous smile, dismissing the last comment.

“These connections, of Blood and Magic, are the bridge for the passage of Family Magic to reach the child and connect with him. If there isn’t a link between Blood and Magic, the Family Magic doesn’t reach the person. Of course, the connection of a Parent and your Child is only the natural way for that connection to form. There are others, Marriage, for example. But that is for another time.

“That still doesn't explain us.”

“I'm getting there.” Sirius smiled indulgently at her impatience. “The Magic Connection between two people is simple to form and there are dozens ways this can happen. Contracts, oaths, family relationships. In our case, it was a Godparenting Ritual. In the ritual, my magic connected with yours, thus establishing a magical connection between us.”

*x*x*x*x*x*

“Kill the spare” Halina heard the hissing voice order someone.

“No!” She shouted, but it was too late.

The green light hit Diggory and he went limp on the floor. Not a second later, she was gagged and stuck in one of the cemetery headstones. Only then does she realize who is doing all this. Pettigrew was quiet, arranging what appeared to be a ritual.

She could only see Diggory's body in front of her, her wand (idiot! - she thinks of herself) is lying not far from him and she is trapped in a tombstone by… Tom Riddle, apparently.

The damn rat puts a snake-like creature, deformed and strange, but vaguely humanoid, into the cauldron.

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

Pettigrew recites, causing a bone to come out of the grave below Halina and float into the huge cauldron.

Oh, that sounds so wrong.

She's screwed.

*x*x*x*x*x*

“But if it was just the connection between Godfather and Goddaughter, you still couldn't be my Heiress” Sirius continued explaining.

She listened attentively to everything. She loved to learn every single thing she could about the Wizarding World. Even though it might sound tedious to most people, for her it sounded so amazing and wonderful.

*x*x*x*x*x*

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master.”

Pettigrew continues the ritual on top of what she supposes is some potion.

It was Black Magic, however. Not Dark, not Obscure. Not even Ancient.

It was the Addictive and Dangerous Black Magic.

*x*x*x*x*x*

“While not the most conventional, it isn’t the first time this has happened.” Sirius commented “But the blood connection needed for you to be my Heiress, for Family Black Magic passed on to you, it happened because of our distant kinship. Your grandmother, your father's mother, was Dorea Potter. She was born in the Black Family and was actually my grandfather's younger sister. We are cousins, kind of.”

“Hmm… So this is the blood connection between us…”

“Yes. There are other ways to establish a blood bond, in addition to looking for family members. Adoption, through the correct blood rituals, is one of those means. Other types of rituals and even some oaths require the use of blood. They don't necessarily form a strong enough link to the Magic Inheritance, but it's there.”

*x*x*x*x*x*

Pettigrew approached her and cut off her arm, taking the blood that was spilling from the huge cut.

“B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe.”

“Well, shit.” It was the only thing she could think of.

*x*x*x*x*x*

Sirius then stopped smiling and became serious.

“But remember Halina: Blood is the most powerful and dangerous thing in the Wizarding World. Don’t give your blood freely. Don't leave your blood behind. And do your best not to spill your blood by force. The most unimaginable things, on the good and the bad side, are possible to do using Blood Magic.”

“I understand, Sirius.”

*x*x*x*x*x*

The liquid in the cauldron immediately turned bright white. Wormtail falls to his knees beside the cauldron with the shiny liquid.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened…

“Let it have drowned.” Halina thought, let it have gone wrong…

And then, suddenly, she felt a strong pull on her magic. He got out of it and spun around, flying away. The sparks stopped coming out of the cauldron. A second wave of magic surrounded her and she couldn't tell where it came from, but it entered her body and settled in her veins and core.

A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Hali, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air…

*x*x*x*x*x*

The blue eyes, cold as ice, shine with rage. It couldn't be. Not yet. His plans were just beginning to move! Years of planning, just for that girl to die before her time! The boy was back, he knew he was. So, he had plans to redo it.

Furious, he tosses the Daily Prophet on the table before getting up and leaving the room. In the newspaper, on the front page, a headline stood out in its big black letters in uppercase:

HALINA POTTER ASSASSINATED!

----------

- To make it clear: No, Halina (Fem!Harry) didn't really die. As in Ellory's fic, if that wasn't obvious, Halina ends up becoming Voldemort/Tom Riddle's adopted daughter because of the ritual. - Ideally, this wouldn’t be a Bashing fic for Dumbledore, but he would be Manipulator and the real villain here. Hence the falsification of Halina's death.

I have some drafts for the first and second chapters, but I'm not sure if I'm going to continue writing this fic. But can I bring these drafts here eventually, perhaps?

I would need to translate them, though. They are all in Portuguese.

But that's it. What do you think?

#harry potter #female harry potter #hp #fem!harry #fem!harry potter

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ai-katsuu · 4 years

Text

Pino and Gretel (1/1)

As requested by @oceanspray5 a fic about Pino and Gretel which I had a lot of fun writing! This just covers breaking their curse so I didn’t go too much into depth with their main story. Inspired by the art of sleepy-lion-king and based off mine.

Also if you’re wondering what happened specifically between Hans and Gretel, see this short post/art.

---

“I’m glad you two made up,” Arthur sat down next to his friend, “it’s important for family to stick together.” “Thank you. I’m glad she’s back in my life again.” he smiled and looked over to his sister. Gretel was happily chatting with Audrey and Snow near the far end of where they had all camped. After shutting her out for several years and all of the pain she had to endure alone, Hans was happy she was smiling again.

He couldn’t undo what he did in the past, but he could at least try to fix it by sticking by her side. “And then during her wedding…” Snow spoke while laughing, “Her shoe broke just before she was about to walk down the aisle! Your brother and I had to help Audrey fix it before they could open the doors, and the crowd had to wait for like, twenty minutes!” “Snow, stop!” Audrey playfully pushed her and covered her face. “But uh..yeah it’s true. It was embarrassing, but it’s a funny story to tell at parties.” she chuckled.

Gretel smiled, “Getting married after a year, how could you be so sure of the one person you’ll spend the rest of your life with?” she genuinely asked. Snow and Audrey thought, “I kinda just knew.” Snow started, “When I proposed to Merlin it wasn’t just on a whim, I thought about it long and hard, and Merlin is the one person who truly loves me for who I am, no matter what I look like. He didn’t prefer Red Shoes nor Snow White, just me.” she smiled at the memory.

Gretel nodded, “Audrey?” she turned to her. Audrey thought about it for a while. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing now, Gret,” she looked at her. “Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” Audrey stated flatly. “Real love takes time, love takes work. At the very least you have to know that person well enough. If you don’t, then do you really love them? Or the person you see them to be?” Gretel and Snow looked at her.

Audrey widened her eyes and put her hands up, “Ah! Sorry I didn’t mean to get all philosophical! To answer your question…” she looked sideways, “True, contradictory to what I said, Jack proposed only 6 months after we met, but in those 6 months we’ve been through a lot together. There’s really no ‘right time’ set for all couples, each one is unique. You just know when they’re the one really.” she concluded smiling.

“And, also the fact that we were the one who broke their curses, sooo…” Snow high-fived Audrey to which Gretel laughed. “Each is unique huh..” she whispered to herself. The sun was starting to set and Gretel told Audrey and Snow she wanted to go for a walk, to which they nodded and continued their own conversation.

As she walked through the trees with golden leaves, she began to think about the past days. After finding her brother again (only to see that he had become short and green) she managed to reconcile with him. Although it was begrudgingly, they got there somehow. If she was honest she wouldn't have gotten there without the help of his friend who was also under the same curse as him.

Gretel walked by the river and saw a small bridge up ahead. She looked closer and saw someone sitting on the edge of it, moving his hands around a metal contraption. She smiled and quickened her pace, “Pino,” she called out. The inventor whipped his head to his left and grinned immediately. “Gretel, what are you doing out here?” “Just taking a walk, what are you working on?” she crouched down to his level.

“Something I made to help me find buried things,” he said while twisting the screw driver. “I call it-” “A metal detector?” Gretel cocked her head. Pino stared at her for a bit before nodding rapidly, “Yup, yup. Metal detector. Better name, definitely what I was gonna call it.” Gretel giggled to which Pino did the same. He then patted his hand on the space next to him and she sat next to him.

“It’s a good thing you made up with Hans, I’m really happy for you two, good job.” Pino said. Gretel shook her head, “You know we only made up because of you right?” He scrunched his face, “Me?” “I mean, yeah,” she nodded, “I wasn’t willing to forgive him at first, but you came and talked to me every chance you got,” Although she couldn’t see it, Pino raised his eyebrows and averted his gaze as he rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry, did I bother you too much?”

“On the contrary! Our talks are one of the happiest I’ve had in my life. The advice you would give me about how important siblings are, your stories with Noki and Kio, your love for your brothers really inspired me to make peace with mine. It’s really all thanks to you, Pino. I couldn’t have done it without you.” his mouth slightly opened as he listened to her in awe before he nervously chuckled, “N-not at all, it’s no problem! I’ll always be there to help you when you need it.”

“Really?” Gretel eyes widened. Pino looked at her again and saw through her lenses, that her eyes were almost quite literally sparkling. ‘Beautiful..’ he thought before speaking, “Of course...over the past few days you’ve become quite an important person to me. I value you too much.” he spoke honestly.

Something lit inside Gretel’s chest when he heard those words, “Thank you, Pino...you’ve become important to me too..” she softly spoke. Pino swore he could die of happiness right ten and there. They two of them were like that for a bit, and he started to feel a bit nervous.

“So, you want me to show how this works?” He quickly grabbed his work. Gretel nodded; she rested her head on her hand and just smiled as she looked at Pino talking, fumbling with the device. His words weren’t quite reaching her ears as she stared at him in complete admiration. Not just for his genius mind, but for his personality that made her fall for him-

…

Oh…

...She fell for him…?

(Song to be played! highly recommended to listen!)

Gretel's smile fell for a bit as she came to terms with the new information she just told herself. She suddenly felt hot as she felt her neck and forehead. Excitement, nervousness? Whatever it was she made a quick recovery and Pino’s words came to light again. “...and the switch here has been malfunctioning a bit but I think I managed to fix it.” he looked at it seriously before standing up, “We should try it on the sand over there, maybe it will work there,” “Pino?” He turned around still talking “Yeah I know, it might not be accurate as soil but-”

And then he felt something warm on his lips. Instinctively he had closed his eyes, ‘What...did she..?’ and then the warmness overtook his body as he saw the color gold through his eyelids. Gretel slowly opened her eyes and gasped as she stood back up. His body had a golden glow that lasted for a few seconds before it died down. Gretel put a hand over her mouth in shock to what appeared before her.

Pino’s hat had fallen on the bridge’s surface, and standing before Gretel was a boy with fluffy light blond hair. The boy raised his hands as he looked at them, “Wha..” he breathed out. He touched his arms and then put a hand to his cheek before his face turned to a hopeful smile. “I’m human..?” and then Gretel saw it for the first time. His sapphire blue eyes that had tears on their edges. “Gretel..you..you broke my curse!” he beamed.

“I-I did?” she stuttered out. She had kissed him on impulse but she didn’t think that it would break his curse. Nonetheless the feelings that have been buried in her chest exploded. “You’re human again..!” she slowly smiled. Pino laughed through his tears and ran up to the red haired girl. He lifted her up and spun her around as they both laughed. Once he had put her down, Gretel was once more entranced by his beautiful eyes, she wondered why he insisted on hiding them.

“You love me?” he asked, smiling. Now that she could actually see his full face she started to see how attractive and charming he actually was. Of course he was..he is part of the F7. “I do…” she softly spoke, averting her gaze as she shyly smiled, “Do you-” “I do.” he quickly held her hands and nodded. His happy smile appeared again as he went in for one more kiss.

---

“So..how are we gonna tell them?” Pino asked. They were just a few feet from the group, who had lighted a campfire they all sat around. “Um..” Gretel thought for a bit. “Just follow my lead.” and he nodded. She walked up ahead to the group as Pino followed a few steps behind her. Noki laughed as he told a story before he took a double look at the pair ahead of him. He immediately stopped talking and nudged his younger brother, “What-oh..” Kio stared. The pair looked and their eldest brother. The rest had wondered what they were looking at before they followed their gaze.

There was a gasp from someone. Silence. Gretel was about to speak before she froze up from all the eyes. “Er..”

“Did you guys-?” Merlin asked

“Yeah,” Pino slowly nodded.

Jack pointed his finger out to Gretel “And were you the one-”

“Yup,” she popped the last letter.

Snow followed, “Since when did you two-”

“Over the past few weeks,” Pino shrugged.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, that's so cute,” Audrey gasped as she clung onto Jack’s arm, who was equally in shock.

“You did it!” Noki and Kio ran up to their brother, who crouched down and gave them a happy hug. “Gretel..!” Hans stood up and hugged his sister. The group cheered and applauded.

Hans smiled happily as he watched. Arthur went up to him once more, “Well you’re taking this well.” he put her arm around his shoulder. Hans laughed, “What do you mean?” “Well, she was the one who broke his curse.” “And?” Arthur chuckled, “Mate, he kissed your sister.” Hans’ eyes had widened a considerable amount, enough to creep Arthur out to back away from him, as there was still a smile on Hans’ face.

“You kissed my sister?!” Hans, pushed himself through the group. They stared at him, “Well, of course they kissed, how did you think his curse got broken?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Hans..” Gretel eyed him with warning. “You, young lady, I thought I said no boyfriend till married!”

“?!”

“Hans what the hell does that even mean!?” Gretel crossed her arms as she looked down on him, literally. “Don’t talk back to your brother, and you!” his eyes went to Pino. “Um…” he stepped back a bit. “How dare you advance on her. Sterben dummkopf!” he jumped up and latched himself onto his head, attacking him with whatever means possible.

#red shoes #red shoes and the 7 dwarfs #red shoes and the seven dwarfs #red shoes movie #rsat7d

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vanchlo · 4 years

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The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Eight, “Unanswered Questions”

Find all chapters to this story HERE! c:

Check out the inspiration tag for this story here! :*

Song Inspo: I’d Rather Be With You by Joshua Radin (click to listen)

SNEAKY PEEK TIMEEEEE

With a jealous sigh, I lock my phone and lose myself in my boring cup of tea. Again. Wondering when the puzzle pieces of my life will fall together, like it seems so many others have.

The people on Instagram.

Even Harry’s, I think as I steal a peek at him.

Swallowing, I suddenly think of the puzzle piece I want to find most of all. And that perhaps it’s not that I haven’t found it yet, it’s because it doesn’t fit, I realize as my eyes study him. Hands in hair. Chunky rings on his fingers. A pastel suit on. And a contagious smile on his face. All of this ignites another swarm of butterflies within my tummy.

If only he fit into the puzzle that’s my life.

“Sometimes it hurts more to hope, and it hurts more to care. But you have to promise me that you won’t stop caring.”

- Katara, Avatar the Last Airbender

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Nothing,” I tell Skye, quickly toeing my shoes off on the rug. My rumbling tummy guides me over to the cabinets, and then the fridge.

“Then stop slamming doors if you’re apparently not mad,” she retorts with a huff.

The microwave beeps at me angrily, and I slam that door, too. There’s just this indescribable comfort from slamming things when you’re mad.

I plop down onto the other side of the sofa Skye sits on, flipping through the channels on tv.

“Aren’t you supposed to be like doing people’s hair right now?” I say in between spoonfuls of tomato soup.

“Aren’t you supposed to like, be at school still, or in Madley?” she replies with the same disdainful tone I just used.

Well played, Skye, well played.

“I didn’t want to be there any longer. And I’m going up there tomorrow when dad has his next chemo.”

“Mmmmm,” she replies, not being able to pick something to watch. “Business was slow today so they told me to go home,” Skye groans. Her lips in a glittery blue lipstick press together in annoyance, and embarrassment.

“It seems like we’re both having a shitty day.”

She nods at me, but doesn’t reply at first. “And why was yours so shit, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter under my breath.

Pulling out my phone, I type in my passcode. Next, I open the app and find the profile I was looking for. One I’ve been trying to stay away from, but now I need it to answer the questions filling my head. Swiping up, my eyes search for a picture to tell me all that I want to know. But as I drink my soup, I find myself looking at artistic shots. Before long, I’m looking at pictures from 5 years ago.

“Why’re you looking at Harry’s Instagram?” Skye asks, scooching over to sit by me. I don’t answer her, and when I dare to look up she gives me the evil eye.

Sighing, I realize I have to tell her. And that maybe it will be good to tell somebody. “He was the guest speaker for my class today,” I admit quietly. Bringing the ceramic bowl to my lips, I down the rest of my soup. The awkward silence is soon filled with my slurps.

“Excuse me. Did I hear you right? Harry spoke to your class today?!” she asks in near disbelief.

Nodding, I sit forward to set the bowl on the table. Hitting the back of the sofa with a groan, I look back at my phone.

“And you’re mad becauseeeeeeeee why?”

“Because he had a ring on his finger,” I reply in a small voice, flicking my thumb across the screen.

“So? Everybody wears rings, Ree,” Skye insists. But my eyes pan over to hers, and I don’t hide anything in them. The realization unfolds on her face, and her features fall. “Oh, Ree. I’m sorry . . . But you can’t know if it’s a wedding ring or not.”

“I know, that’s why I’m trying to look on his insta. But I don’t see anything about a wedding or a new girlfriend,” I respond, starting at the beginning again.

“So, that’s a good sign then. Anybody would post about getting married,” she says reassuringly. But her words don’t stitch up the hole I feel inside of me. One that grew even more just today when I saw that ring.

“I don’t know,” I breathe out with uncertainty.

“Is that all, Ree?” Skye coos softly. I drop my phone on my chest and close my eyes. Her fingers start to comb through my shoulder-length hair that she cut the other day in our kitchen.

“His hair is short, and he looked so good, Skye. Fuck, he looked amazing. He was in this gray suit, and he had stubble. It was sooo attractive on him. And he was so charming with that dimply smile. Everybody ate it up, even me,” I confess, feeling the emotions weigh in my words.

“Yeah well, even I think he’s hot. It’s pretty hard not to have a crush on him,” she agrees. I open my eyes and turn to look into hers. She flashes me a small smile as her fingers continue to play with my hair.

“Did he recognize you?”

“Yeah, about three minutes into his talk. And he smiled and it messed him up. Made him lose his train of thought,” I say with a proud smile tickling at my lips. She nods smiling, and says ‘go, Ree!’ “I think he wanted me to ask him a question when it came to that part, because I saw him look at me a few times.”

“And why didn’t you ask him a question?”

“There was nothing I wanted to ask since I know a lot about his career. I didn’t want to take away from the learning of the other students.”

“You’re too fucking nice,” she laughs, pulling one from my lips as well. Skye shakes her head, sending her now neon pink locks into a dance. “Soooo, did he say hi to you afterward?!”

“No, and I didn’t know whether to say hi to him,” I admit sadly, my eyes falling to my lap. Picking at a hole in the knee of my jeans, I avoid her gaze. She has enough theoretical balls for the two of us, and is always telling me to just do it. But I never can. “I was debating to say hi when I saw the ring. And about 5 girls were already up there talking to him after class ended. I’m sure they were all flirting up a storm with him.”

“So? That’s when you walk up to him. He forgets about them. You bask in their jealousy and awe as he gives you his undivided attention,” she explains theatrically as if it were clear as day.

“Sureeee, because that would so happen. I don’t know why you’ve always thought the feelings were mutual between us.” “Even though I only met him once when he came over, that’s all I needed to tell that he fancied you too, Ree,” she quips, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “His eyes were all over you and you could tell how much he enjoyed being with you. Even if you whooped his ass at that card game Nerts that night.”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t really matter anyway. Because apparently he’s married or engaged, or something,” I tell her in a low voice.

“Maybe you could’ve asked him if you’d gone up to say hi to him,” she insists emphatically. God, I wish she knew when to stop. But she somehow says all of the things I'm secretly thinking. “That’s probably why you came home so early, isn’t it? So there wouldn’t be any chance that you could run into him in the halls, or at the little Starbucks they have? Am I right, or am I right?”

“You’re right, like always,” I admit through gritted teeth. I avoid her eyes, and instead pick at the pink nail polish I’m wearing.

“I’m sorry, but when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, Ree. Which translates into making a move with the bloke you’re pining over. Now, watch FRIENDS with me and cheer up,” Skye finishes, quickly pecking my cheek. I dramatically gag and feel her shove my shoulder.

I briefly laugh before laying down with my head in her lap.

“What are you doing?” she demands.

“Play with my fucking hair. That’s what you get for being mean to me when I’m sad,” I whine, using my puppy dog voice.

“Fineeeee,” she relents. Joey and Chandler’s faces appear on the tv screen. Not long after, I feel her fingers tickling my scalp. “Ya know, Ree, I’m pretty sure you’d have a good chance of walking into his office and pulling down his pants to suck his cock. I’m sure he’d let you.”

“Jesus Christ, Skye! Stop it! I can’t believe you’re thinking about that!” I almost shout, feeling her belly shake with laughter.

“I’m just saying that you know, you could go to his work and ask him out. Or text him to get a coffee, or to get curry together. It’s not as hard as you make it.”

“I’m not getting started again on the rant about how he was a dick-,” I try to say, but Skye is just not having it with the excuses today.

“And how he didn’t believe you when it came to Amber who beat you up. I know, Ree, and it was a nightmare, but it’s been a year almost! I doubt he’s married or betrothed to some random chick already. That’s the kinda thing you put on your insta, and it looks like he still uses that account. Plus, people change and it says something that you’re still crushing on him after all this time. And I’m just saying, but it looks like he still cares about you too,” Skye finishes for me, combing through my tangles. “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I know. But I still don’t like it.”

“Maybe you’d like it if you tried to change it,” she continues with her speech. I roll my eyes and try to immerse myself in the scene in front of me. Chandler and Joey playing with their pet duck and chick in their shared apartment. “Just shut up and play with my hair.”

But no matter how hard I try to push her words away, they worm their way into my head. And they stay there, repeating themselves until they’re heard.

And they won’t shut up, not yet.

I shiver as the cold raindrops still run down my skin. Cursing, I round a corner and try to remember my way around this place. Checking my watch, I curse again when I find I have a few minutes left to find the lecture hall. The fucking rain ruined everything today. My hair. The traffic. My timing. But I can’t let it ruin the speech I’m about to give. No, that wouldn’t be fair to them.

Soon, I find the number on the familiar door. I walk into a large room humming with voices. Walking straight to the front, I find the man I’m looking for. He turns around with a smile budding on his lips.

“Glad you could make it, Harry. Thanks for coming in this lousy weather,” Professor Alcott says, gripping my hand firmly in his.

“‘Course, Rich, I wouldn’t miss it. I’m sorry if ‘m late, tha traffic was horrendous. Big accident up on tha motorway an’ everythin’,” I reply, shaking my head. I feel the raindrops collect at the tips of some hair.

“That’s a shame. I hope the lot are alright,” he tsks, shaking his head of graying hair. I echo his words. “Well, I’m sure the students will enjoy your talk today. I hope we won’t have as many sleepers as last week’s.”

I laugh along with him before following him to the front of the room. A blonde fellow rounds the corner and rushes up the stairs, door banging behind him. I only catch a glimpse of him as Richard gets the attention of his quieting class. But I can’t help thinking the bloke reminds me of the main character from the Kingsman movies I’d just seen.

After draping my coat over a table his computer sits at, I turn my attention back to the class. I smile at Rich when he introduces me, followed by their welcoming applause bringing warmth to my cheeks.

It’s never not exciting doing these things.

I smile back at the 50ish young faces looking up at me. They cover a wide age range from parents, some older than me, and to those straight out of high school. Nonetheless, their eager faces bring forth a feeling of hope and excitement I can’t name.

These talks never fail to have that effect on me.

I jump into my usual spiel, starting off with a little about who I am. Mentioning Myles, and then telling them how I came to be a lawyer. I start to talk about cases of mine, from favourites, to nightmares, to success stories, and also failures. I’m just about to speak about my time in university and try to give them advice, having known what they’re going through.

Not long after I started, I’m in the middle of a sentence about starting the firm with Myles. I look up from a woman in the front row and to another place in the room. My eyes dance upwards, trying to include everybody. And then I see her.

Becks.

My Becks.

My heart flutters in my chest as I lose my breath. It’s as if my heart is reacting to seeing her too after all this time.

Flushed with excitement, I watch her look up from her paper. And to me. Her hair is shorter, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her lovely face without makeup. She’s more beautiful than I thought I remembered. A smile grows on my lips by accident, and I see one inching up her face, as well.

Looking away fast, I remember that my eyes deceive me. And she’s not the only person in this room. “I’m sorry, what was I sayin’?” I ask with a laugh, searching the eyes of students in the first few rows. I thank an eager volunteer and continue with my story.

But it’s hard with the emotions bubbling inside of me at the sight of her. Becks is here. Thoughts run rampant inside of my head, along with questions. But I can’t entertain them right now, I remind myself. With an attempt to shut off my brain, I return my focus to my story. But the thought of her sits at the back of my mind. My emotions and thoughts doing backflips at the back of it. All as she sits up there towards the back of the room, watching me and listening.

Suddenly, I feel even more pressure to impress.

I had a little speech-bubble waiting inside of my head, waiting until the end to say hi to her. But the second that Alcott says his last words to the class, I’m swarmed with blushing girls standing in front of me asking more questions. Smiling, I oblige and answer them to the best of my distracted ability. Twirling a ring on my left hand, I try to assert my attention to the girl currently talking. But it’s difficult.

I find my eyes lifting from her elated face and to the crowd of students shuffling out of the lecture hall. I think I spot her head of dark hair next to that of the Kingsman fellow, and a shock of red hair. Friends of hers, they must be. I try to balance my attention between the full force nagging inside of my head to look for her, and the students in front of me. The next time I look I see her getting closer, but then I briefly forget about her when a male student asks an interesting question.

Wrapping up my answer, he thanks me. I shake his hand and say goodbye. My eyes trail in the direction of the door when I hear her name. Somebody else is saying it. I don’t see her shock of chocolate hair until I watch Kingsman wrap an arm around her shoulder. The flirtatious words of another girl melt into a muffle as I watch her walk away to the door.

Becks with another guy. Words of getting coffee pass between them.

Something happens inside of me and I feel everything shut off for a nanosecond, or ten. It only lasts longer as I witness her lean into his shoulder and leave through the ajar door.

“I think that’ll be all for Mr. Styles today. He put on a great little show for us indeed, but he probably has to get back to work here soon,” I finally hear Rich say from behind me. But it only registers with me when I feel him pat my arm.

I blink and turn my head back around, feeling everything hit me hard. The sounds. Remembering that people are standing there, looking at me expectantly.

“Yeah yeah. I’m sorry, e’rybody. But thank you, an’ thank you, Rich. I um was gonna grab a coffee ‘fore I go. Where’s that cafe ‘gain?” I ask him quickly, listening intently to his directions.

I swerve around clumps of university students mingling in the halls or walking to their next class. But all I can think about is finding her in the crowd. Of course, I don’t, because there are too many people. And too many heads of hair that look like hers. Taking a left and then a right as Rich said, I rush down a hall. At the end of it is the little Starbucks that I could smell from around the corner. And then once again, I find what I’m looking for.

But not quite.

I can't get my feet to move another inch. Because his arm is still around her and she’s laughing at something he said. Staring into his eyes like he painted the stars in the sky. I thought once she looked at me like that, but as I watch them, all of my confidence of that melts away. He hugs her quickly, tickling her side in the progress. And I hear her melodic laugh without a phone in between us for the first time in ages. What’s felt like forever. Something stings deep inside of me watching another man being rewarded with it.

And it’s not me.

Not anymore, not for what’s been a long time.

Huffing, I find my fingers tangled in my hair. They fall as my eyes study her with what tastes like bittersweetness. She looks so cozy in a jumper and jeans. Hair wavy and tucked behind her ears. A dimple falling into her one cheek and a smile in her eyes. Her crystal blues that scream of hidden sadness. She’s even more beautiful up close, and my goodness, how she’s changed.

I turn around and find my feet pulling me away from her. Because maybe she isn’t my Becks anymore. No, she’s his now. Because I lost her.

Biting my lip, I round a corner and almost run into somebody.

“Heeeey. I was looking for you, you left your coat in the lecture hall,” Rich says, holding it out for me to take. “You alright, son?”

“Y-yeah, I jus’ uh thought I saw an old friend. But I guess not.”

“Oh well, that’s a letdown.”

“Yeah, ya can say that,” I reply softly, pulling on my coat one sleeve at a time.

I listen to Rich’s praises of my speech as I follow him down the hall. Buttoning my coat to busy myself with something.

“I had a question fer you,” I begin and he encourages me to continue. “I used t’ have an employee by tha name o’ Rebecca Holte at tha firm. I see she’s in yer class I jus’ spoke t’.”

“Oh, Becky? She worked for you? My, that doesn’t surprise me at all. She knows quite a bit about law and it shows in her work. She’s already been in the program, having dropped out a few years prior. But she’s doing really great. One of my best students. I know she’ll make a fantastic lawyer,” he says, shuffling along in his gray coat. Briefcase and thermos in hand.

“Yeah, I do too . . . I didn’ know she enrolled ‘gain in tha program,” I say, choosing my words carefully. The feelings of delayed elation and surprise coming with those words peek at the edge of my sadness. Even though I’m not sure how to phrase them with the chaotic state of my mind at the moment.

“She started back again this Fall. Has about 30 credits left to go, I reckon. She’s plugging right along, even with her dad’s diagnosis.”

“Yeah, I heard ‘bout that from a coworker. ‘s a right shame. How’s she handlin’ it?” I question, looking up from the tiled floor to meet his eyes framed by graying brows.

“Oh just fine. Her work is still just as strong. She’s always a light in our discussions, contributing her experience to the topic. I only see her twice a week and we don’t talk very much, what with having 54 students in her cohort. But I think she’s managing. She’s only needed a few extensions since her father started chemotherapy in September, but I couldn’t ask for a better student. Never skips a lecture. Participates. She communicates with me when she needs help. And she’s had a good effect on the class, and has already made some friends in the cohort. She’s going to need those with the tougher classes coming up, and with her dad’s diagnosis,” he informs me. I nod along with his words, savoring them as they’re about her. I itch to ask him about the fellow with his arm around her, but I resist, knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate.

“Maybe she’ll come back to work for you after the Bar. Circle of Life, eh?” Rich laughs, bumping shoulders with me. I thank him, nodding along with his joke.

We say goodbyes before parting ways. I step back into the chilling rain and he walks into another classroom of students. For shits and giggles, I scan the hallway before leaving. I don’t see her, even though I knew I wouldn’t.

Pulling up the collar of my coat, I hurry fast through the growing puddles and soggy leaves. Shivering, I hide my hands away in my pockets. I shake my head and take them back out. Removing a ring from my left hand, I slide it onto a different finger with relief. That feels better, I think inwardly before my hands are welcomed by the dryness of my pockets once again.

Shuffling through the cold rain, I put another step and another between her and me. “Fook,” I mutter aloud when a thought appears in my head.

I wonder when the next time is that I’ll see her, if ever, it says with a sting.

“Bloody hell, it’s coming down out there,” a voice says, pulling me from my thoughts. Looking up, I find Asher walking towards me.

Getting up from my chair, I walk over and hug him.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he comments, sliding off his brown jacket.

“No, I only got here a few minutes ago. That snow is no joke.”

“No kidding,” he agrees, taking a seat across the small table from me. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been uh, fine. I’m sorry I’m so bad at replying to texts, things have been crazy.”

“That’s okay, I understand. How has chemo been going for your dad?” Asher asks, trying to tame his crazy hat hair.

“I guess as good as you can expect it to, with all of the vomiting and other shit it brings. I bought him a bunch of thick shirts and jumpers the other day. He’s even colder without his hair and all the weight he’s lost,” I reply glumly, flipping through the pages of my menu.

“I’m really sorry, Becky-.”

“I know, it’s okay. Thanks,” I stop him, patting his hand. Something unspoken passes between us. He nods with a small smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just that this is a nice little escape from everything going on. I don’t mean to be rude, but I kinda wanna keep it that way.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize,” Asher says after drinking from his glass of water. A smile curls his lips upward and a little laugh joins us. I ask him ‘what’ and watch a blush color his cheeks. “It’s actually kind of a relief, because I’m always bad at talking about that stuff. I never know the right thing to say, and then I just feel bad the whole time because of it.”

“Thanks for telling me that, and you always do a good job, so shut up,” I tell him, squeezing his hand before we fall into another laugh together.

“Sooo, what’s new with you since the last time we got lunch? When was that, like in September? When there wasn’t snow on the ground?”

“Yeah, something like that. Um, not much. Dad’s been doing chemo as you know, and after he’s done with this round, he has surgery. Um, I just wrote a huge paper about serial killing for Criminology which was um, interesting. I got to shadow a local lawyer for a day before then. We studied some pretty disturbing cases in Crim, worked on writing some arguments, and that’s about it,” I confess, my words ending in a laugh. With the next words on the tip of my tongue, they’re stolen away when the waitress arrives to take our order.

She leaves a pint and a soda for us, making me wish I’d ordered something warm.

“Sorry, was there more you wanted to say?” Asher asks, bringing the foamy pint to his lips.

“Uh yeah, I guess,” I answer nervously, smoothing out the square napkin my drink sits on. “Guess who came and talked to my class the other day?”

“Who?”

“Harry,” I tell him. Looking up to meet his eyes, I press my lips together in a silent ‘Yeah, I couldn’t believe it, either.’

“You should’ve seen that one coming. I’ve heard he’s done those uni talks for years,” Asher chuckles, pulling a scoff from my lips. But it only encourages him, and his melodic laugh tickles my ears.

“Yeah I know, but it hit me out of left field. I wanted to hide under my seat, and at the same time, I enjoyed it.”

“What, do you like him again now? Damn, make up your mind,” Asher teases, and I nod.

“I know, I know. But he sent me a really nice card . . After I cried to him on the phone about my dad after a bottle of wine. And I don’t know, he was his charming self when he spoke to my class,” I try to explain, hearing an ‘Oh, I’m so surprised’ from Asher. I shake my head with a nervous smile. “I know, but I couldn’t stop eating it up just like everybody else. Ugh, what is wrong with me?”

“A lot of things, but I don’t think we have enough time today to cover those,” he quips. I laugh, mirroring his smile.

“You know, I like the blonde beard you have going on,” I tease him, drawing an imaginary line around my mouth.

“Oh shut up. I’m trying it out, okay?” he says in defense, holding his pint up. His nervous smile paints crinkles by his eyes. Along with pink on his hairy cheeks.

Shaking his head, he sets his pint down before adjusting the salmon collar of his zip-up sweater.

“It’s fine with me,” I say, holding my hands up in defense. His laugh fills my ears as I reach for my soda.

A silence fills the space between us, for lack of better words. The telly above the nearby bar fills our silence, along with the chattering of the lunch crowd.

“He was wearing a ring, Asher,” I say slowly, my voice absent of smiles and laughs. Daring to look, I meet eyes with him. They’re soft and serious now as he takes a pull from his pint of beer. “On his ring finger,” I finish with one of those smiles you force to assure them you’re okay, even though you’re not.

Twirling my straw in the sea of dark soda and ice, I wait. But then I can’t wait any longer. “Do you know if-.”

“I don’t, Becky. I’m sorry. I hardly see him, since I’m on the other side in I.T.,” he begins, walking over my words. But I welcome it, the saving. “I wish I could say I’d have heard about a wedding or engagement, but I don’t really hear anything about him. The few times I’ve seen him I haven’t paid close attention. But you know, maybe it just didn’t fit on any other finger.” I nod in silence, trying to deflect the emotions. Wishing I could drown them in the fizzing soda I stare into. They only hurt more when I realize that I can’t.

“I hate that I even care, but all of a sudden I did again when my dad told me about his cancer. I wanted to run to Harry and tell him. I don’t know why, after everything I went through,” I reveal with difficulty. “And then I called him when I was drunk, because I had this strange desire to. I hardly remember it, or try not to, and then that damn card came in the mail. And messed everything up,” I confess, covering my eyes with my hands.

“Yeah, feelings are just great, aren’t they?” Asher quips with tension throughout his voice.

Somehow I laugh and drop my hands to find him staring at his drink. “See, that’s what I was saying before. People get sad in front of me and ask for advice. And I-I just . . . gum up. And start telling jokes, like Chandler Bing, because I don’t know what the fuck else to do.”

“It’s okay. I like the reality check,” I tell him, smiling. He nods gratefully, wiping the beery foam from his upper lip.

“Do you think it means anything, you caring about him again all of a sudden again?”

“Well, if I said I stopped caring about him, I’d be lying. That’s what fucking got me here,” I reply honestly. The waitress appears at that exact moment with our appetizer.

I couldn’t be happier for the rescue from my own words.

But it scares me to say them out loud, because that’s when they become real on a whole other level. And I’m already struggling to accept the “feeling them” part.

After hugging Asher with tummies full of pizza, I rush to my car. Finally escaping the blustery wind, I close the door. Huffing out a ghost of a breath, I crank the heating in my car. Closing my eyes, I sit back and wait for it to warm up. Then a memory I forgot about until Asher reminded me of it comes back to me. It starts unfolding inside of my head before I can stop it.

“Do I have any messages?” somebody asks.

Looking up from my cup of tea, I find Harry smiling above me. Now that is an odd sight indeed.

“Um no, you don’t have any messages, Mr. Styles,” I reply, folding my hands in my lap awkwardly. “Why the big smile?”

His hard green eyes meet mine, but they soften. Raising his eyebrows at me, his lips melt into a smile. “I said t’ call me Harry. And I jus’ finished talkin’ t’ a class of law students, somethin’ I always enjoy,” he answers, walking away from the table where I sit.

“Yes, Harry . . What do you enjoy about it?” I ask, stirring the spoon in circles. Watching the little tornado form in the brown liquid, I wait for his answer. I’m not sure how a crabby pants like him would enjoy having anything to do with uni students.

With the shuffling of moving food around in the fridge, he says, “”s just great t’ see new faces comin’ into law. Their enthusiasm ’s unmatched too, ‘cause they ‘ave dis love fer law that I dunno how many lawyers even ‘ave anymo’. ‘Cause o’ that, they hang onto yer every word.”

“And they probably flirt with you too, I bet,” I joke softly. I raise my head at a noise, watching him pour a cup of tea. But that’s not the noise. It’s his tittering laugh that I’ve only heard a few times now.

“Um,” he struggles, laughing nervously. “I can’t deny that, nor confirm it.”

“You liar! They sooooo flirt with you!” I counter.

“An’ what would make ya say that?” Harry asks, turning to face me.

Cocking an eyebrow, he challenges me, and yanks my answer away. Or any kind of answer I had. But I definitely can’t say that I think that because I’m a college-aged female who thinks he’s cute. Well, more than cute, but I’m trying not to let myself get that far. But it’s hard to deny my feelings, when his mere presence or even name puts butterflies in my stomach.

“Ah, not so confident anymo’, now are we?” he smirks. I laugh too, shaking my head and letting it fall. I worry he can already read my answer from my expression. But I try not to worry. I’m relieved when he doesn’t blurt my answer into thin air. That would make it even more real. “No, yer right. They do it quite a lot - flirt with me. It depends on tha class, an’ well, how many girls are innit. Sometimes ’s not so bad, an’ otha times ’s annoyin’, ‘cause well, I have a girlfriend. An’ ‘m there t’ talk to ‘em ‘bout law, not t’ get their phone numba,” he finishes. Again, he rips the words right from my mouth with his own. Because he had to bring her up. Amber. And ruin the blissful ignorance I had for the moment, forgetting that he has a girlfriend.

Fuck.

Bringing the steaming cup of tea to my lips, I try to drown my words with it. Staring at the table, I don’t know what words there are left to say besides, “Yeah, I suppose that could be hard.”

“Oh yes, very awkward at times,” Harry responds, setting his tea down on the counter before walking away. “I mean, ‘s like I can’t outright tell ‘em I don’ want their numba. It’d all stop there if I did, but I can’ really go there.”

“Yeah, that would probably just make it even more awkward,” I drone on.

“‘Xactly,” he responds. My eyes follow him as they often do. His actions bring a question to my lips.

“Since when do you do puzzles?” I ask after watching him fiddle with the 500 piecer lying at the other end of the table. “I didn’t know you were getting that old.”

“Oh, hush you. ‘m barely older than yerself,” he smiles, trying to connect two pieces of the Autumn puzzle.

“Really, and how old am I again?” I say sarcastically, testing him. An accidental smile tickles at his lips, but he tries to hold it back. It breaks loose after he slowly looks over at me. “You have no idea, do you?!” I exclaim, voice rising by a few octaves.

His face dissolves into an embarrassed laugh. “What? ‘m sorry. Ya look so young!”

“Wow, good excuse!” I respond, rising from my chair. Soon I’m staring down at puzzle pieces standing next to him. “I’m 24 by the way, only three years younger than you.”

“Oh yeahhhh, dat sounds familiar now,” he replies knowingly.

“Sure it does,” I mutter, trying to place a piece but it doesn’t fit.

“Why ya sayin’ ‘m old? ‘m only 27, ya know. Tha’s not old.”

“You’re more closer to 30 than you are to 20. Now, how does that make you feel?” I pose to him. With an ‘aha,’ I fit a piece to complete a pumpkin sitting on a doorstep.

“Old . . . Hey now, that was rude,” Harry counters, giving me a sad look. It only makes me smile a little bit.

Picking up a piece splattered with shades of yellow, I accidentally bump shoulders with him.

“Yeah, well you’re working your way to being an old man. Doing puzzles and not liking uni students,” I divulge, feeling the edge to my voice. But the words couldn’t sit on my tongue any longer.

“Heeeeey, I neva said I disliked uni students. Jus’ . . . some o’ ‘em are irritatin’ an’ far too flirty. Bloody hell, wha’s gotten into you t’day, love?” Harry chirps.

“That’s what you get for not remembering how old I am, and for calling me young. Do you know how many times I still get carded?” I groan somewhat jokingly. Setting down that piece, I forget it by picking up another. I scoff when Harry giggles after fitting another piece in.

“Don’ be so sensitive, Becky. I bet I could even tell ya when yer birthday ‘s,” he bets. Looking up curiously, I meet his playful eyes.

“I bet you couldn’t,” I challenge him.

His cherry lips bend into an effortless smile. My eyes leave them when his hand comes into view. Pulling away the strand of hair from in front of my eyes, I follow his fingers when he tucks it behind my ear. “June fifteenth,” he mumbles softly. Trying to push away the blush warming my cheeks, I clear my throat.

Nodding, I smile and say, “Good job. You got one right for once.” Breaking the special yet awkward eye contact, I look back to the puzzle.

“I can rememba birthdays fine, ‘m jus’ not good at tha age thing.”

“Mmmm. I guess lawyers only have to be good at remembering dates,” I comment smiling. With a huff, I drop my piece of the puzzle and return to my chair.

“Yeah, tha’s an important bit. What, ya give up already?” Harry replies. He bites his bottom lip as he looks at the lonely pieces, eyebrows in a tangle.

“I don’t have the patience for puzzles.”

“Tha’s why ya only work at ‘em a li’l bit atta time. A few pieces, an’ then ya do a few more in an hour or so. Wheneva yer bored. My gran’ likes t’ do ‘em while she’s watchin’ tha telly, or in between chores,” he reveals, distracted by a blue jigsaw piece.

“Mmmmmm, that’s a good idea,” I tell him. Scrolling through my phone, I exit out of Instagram after tiring of seeing everybody post relationship pictures.

With a jealous sigh, I lock my phone and lose myself in my boring cup of tea. Again. Wondering when the puzzle pieces of my life will fall together, like it seems so many others have.

The people on Instagram.

Even Harry’s, I think as I steal a peek at him.

If only he fit into the puzzle that’s my life.

Yawning, I rub my eyes. I sit up, wincing at sore spots from the uncomfortable chair. Unbelievably, the clock reads only 8:39 pm. It feels much later than that, I think, but after the events of today, I was tired at 4 o’clock. Habitually peeking at the black screen by the bed, I feel relief when I see his steady numbers. Blood pressure. Heart rate. Oxygen levels. The rhythmic beeping assures me all is well too, but I don’t feel that way when I look down at my dad. I can’t see his blue eyes, because they’re still closed. There are all of these wires on him, and a tube down his throat. It’s already hard enough to see, without arguing in the background.

“For the love of christ, would you two stop it? If you’re going to do it, do it in the bloody hallway,” I snap at them. Getting up from my chair, I grab my purse and leave.

Ignoring the sound of my name, I keep walking until I no longer hear it. I had to get out. They were crying and fighting and the doctor’s words weren’t making sense anymore. I just can’t take it anymore, like a typical tv show character would say. My steps echo down the hallway as the guilt eats away at me with every step. Emotions run around inside of me.

Anguish one moment.

Then frustration.

Overwhelmed.

Frustrated.

Tired.

Fed up.

Sad.

Mad.

The humming welcomes me first, before I arrive in front of the line of vending machines that have been my sole solace during my time here. The number of visits being more than I can remember. The fluorescent lights advertising the packaged goods burns, and yet calms my eyes. Hmmm, what shall we have today, Becky? Sour gummy worms? Chocolate cupcakes? Doritos? Salted nut rolls? Granola bars?

“Don’ get tha chocolate chip cookies. They look far betta than they actually are,” a voice suggests from behind me. There’s a spark of something inside the walls of my brain during the second before I turn around. “Trust me, I was tha one who wasted a few pounds on ‘em,” they continue.

I watch the last few words leave the lips of its owner after I slowly turn around. Those cherry lips reach higher to the sky the longer I stand there. I watch the dimples crease his cheeks. The eyes I’ve looked into and missed too many times to count, crinkle with his smile.

#the assistant #pa harry #harry styles #one direction #harry au #lawyer au #lawyer harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #fan fiction #1d #writing #wattpad #fine line

25 notes · View notes

havenoffandoms · 4 years

Text

Running With the Wolves - Part III

Sorry for the late post, and for the short(ish) chapter. With finishing my dissertation (yay) and moving house, I’ve had a lot on my plate. I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway! Thanks for the support, as always much appreciated. Much love, Rose_SK. (Also Tumblr is sooo slow, so I won’t add any gifs to this chapter. At least not just now).

Part I; Part II

Jaskier was lost.

That should not have come as a surprise to him, and yet his frustration was merely amplified as that realisation hit him. The sound of his empty stomach growling in complaint startled Jaskier as it echoed through the otherwise silent forest. His tongue darted out to lick his cracked lips soothingly, but the action brought him little relief. Jaskier was not convinced that he could carry on much longer without a break, exhaustion evident in the way he dragged his feet and stumbled over imaginary obstacles. Not before long, the sun would disappear behind the tall mountains and Jaskier truly wished to be out of the woods before nightfall. He would have to make good use of the daylight to find a shelter for the night or risk roaming the forest in the dark, at the mercy of whatever creature found him first. Jaskier had no doubt that other beasts would not be as lenient as the two wolves he had come across in the cave. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Willing these thoughts away, Jaskier pushed past the pain in his muscles as he cut across protruding roots and prickly bushes until he saw rays of light filtering through the row of trees. A clearing, most likely. As fast as the hazardous terrain allowed, Jaskier made his way towards the light, cursing loudly every time his clothes got caught in wayward branches barring his way. When he finally reached the edge of the forest, Jaskier was momentarily blinded by the sun. It took his eyes several seconds to adjust to the brightness of his surroundings. Jaskier’s artistic soul could not help the reverential gasp that pushed past his lips as he took in the scenery. Despite his circumstances, Jaskier paused to admire the way the sun inundated the clearing with its warm light. The lusciously green grass was bespeckled with dots of white and purple which Jaskier recognised from his botany lessons as white daffodils and mountain lupines. Jaskier closed his eyes and breathed in their unique fragrances, letting the smell soothe his troubled soul. Jaskier suddenly wished he had his notebook to jot down all the emotions the scene stirred in him. This picturesque tableau could inspire any artist.

In the distance, Jaskier could make out the gentle splashing of water against the streambed as it followed its course. The sound caused his heart to leap in his chest as Jaskier realised what it implied. Instantly he became aware of just how parched he felt. His feet seemed to move of their own volition as Jaskier followed the noise to its source. When he finally spotted the stream, the bard was so relieved that he felt like bursting into tears as he dropped to his knees and greedily drank the fresh water out of his cupped hands. Jaskier blessed all the gods he knew for guiding him towards this stream, and for a moment he was able to forget that he was lost and still had no idea which direction to walk in. After a while, Jaskier wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand as he inspected his surroundings more closely. He spied some bushes on his right bearing dark blue berries which Jaskier knew to be bilberries; not the hot meal Jaskier had been fantasising about, but they would most certainly do the job. Jaskier ate as many berries as he could stomach and washed them down with more fresh water. Sooner than anticipated, Jaskier felt the air grow colder as the sun disappeared behind the mountain and cast a long shadow over the clearing. The momentary peace Jaskier felt was quickly replaced by dread at the thought of spending the night in this unknown wilderness. Jaskier briefly considered following the stream and hope that it would lead him to civilisation eventually, but that would mean re-entering the dark forest and Jaskier wanted to avoid this at all cost. The other option was to remain in the clearing until morning, which was not necessarily more attractive than the former. Jaskier felt stuck between a rock and a hard place as he weighted the possibilities before settling for staying in the clearing for the time being, where he could replenish his energy by eating wild berries and drinking fresh water. He could worry about finding his way back home in the morning.

Jaskier lay down on the soft grass and rested the back of his head on his right arm. Before long, he succumbed to his own exhaustion and fell asleep to sound of crickets chirping and owls hooting.

OoO

Jaskier woke up with a start well after the sun had set and the world around him was nothing but eerie darkness. His skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat as he willed his racing heart to slow down. Jaskier guessed that something must have spooked him in his sleep to occasion such a reaction from him. Suddenly hyperaware of his surroundings, his eyes frantically scanned the area for any signs of danger. It was a moonless night and the dim light emanating from the stars inadequately lit the clearing. Jaskier’s eyes had yet to adapt to the darkness, but in his state of panic his ears picked up the faintest sound coming from the rows of trees encircling the exposed glade. The screeching of owls, the squeaking of bats, crunching twigs, and the creaking of rigid branches stubbornly refusing to move with the wind all added to the cacophony of spine-tingling noises that sent Jaskier’s fight or flight instincts into overdrive. Unlike other poets he had met at Oxenfurt, Jaskier had never given his own death much thought. He much rather preferred to focus on the present than dwell on the past or worry about the future. Truth be told, there were not many pleasant memories in his past that Jaskier wished to hold onto. Jaskier kept the few mementos which sparked joy under lock and key. Preoccupying himself with the future was a waste of precious time in his opinion. There was nothing like living in the present and taking each day as it came. Now that Jaskier was faced with the inevitability of his own demise, his carefree attitude regarding death was called into question as every decision suddenly became about survival. There was nothing like spending a night in the forest to become painfully aware on one’s own mortality.

Snap.

Jaskier instantly froze at the sound. He dared not move for fear to attract the attention of whatever was lurking in the forest in such close proximity to his current position. Jaskier remained perfectly still, even going as far as to hold his breath to make as little noise as humanly possible. The only sound that could be heard was that of his own heartbeat thumping incessantly in his ears. Jaskier swallowed dryly past the lump in his throat. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead and along the nape of his neck as an overwhelming sense of panic overtook him. Any wild animal would be able to smell his fear from miles away. Jaskier’s fear kept him rooted to the spot, yet every fibre of his being urged him to run, run, run… as far away and as fast as his human legs could carry him.

Snap. Crack.

Whispers. Jaskier could make out whispers arising from the bushes. Unless the animals in these parts had developed the ability to speak, these whispers could only have been produced by humans. Jaskier thought he could weep for joy as he scrambled to his feet and followed the sound of the murmurs to its source. Unsurprisingly, the hushed chatter instantly ceased. Jaskier took slow tentative steps towards the bushes as he licked his dry lips. Those humans were arguably just as terrified of being attacked by wild animals than he was, so Jaskier should probably let them know that he posed them no threat.

“Hello? Anybody out there?” Jaskier’s question was met with silence, as was to be expected. “I promise I mean you no harm. I got lost in the forest and ended up here, thought I’d sleep in the open rather than risk getting caught in the forest at night. All I want is to go home. Can you help me?”

Silence. Jaskier sighed.

“Please, whoever you are… have mercy on a lost traveller. I only need directions to the nearest town. I don’t have much coin to speak of, but I’m sure we can find an arrangement. Please, I don’t even know how I got here, or where I am. I just – “

Jaskier did not get the chance to finish his sentence before something emerged from the bushes and pounced at him. For the second time in the past twenty-four hours, Jaskier found himself pinned to the ground and unable to escape the clutches of his attacker. He sensed a pattern forming… only this time, he felt the sharp edge of a blade press against the tender skin of his throat.

“Who are you?” a distinctly male voice asked him as the attacker tightened his grip on the hilt of his knife. Jaskier could not make out the other man’s features in the dark, but there was no mistaking the way the stranger’s eyes flashed yellow as he stared intently at Jaskier.

“Answer me, human!” the man urged him, the blade of his knife cutting into Jaskier’s throat deep enough to draw blood but not so much as to cause any serious harm… yet. Jaskier was confident that this stranger could kill him in a blink of an eye with a hand tied around his back.

“I… My name is Jaskier… please sir, I mean no harm. I have nothing valuable on me. I just want to leave this place,” Jaskier told his attacker in a pleading tone.

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know!”

“Don’t lie to me, human! It won’t end well for you…” the man threatened him, his knife digging more earnestly into his throat this time and pulling a pained yelp from Jaskier.

“Lambert! That’s enough!” a second voice shouted, causing Jaskier to flinch.

“Oh goody, another one!” Jaskier commented sarcastically before he could stop the words from leaving his mouth.

“Shut up!” the man known as Lambert snapped at him, “or I’ll slit your throat quicker than you can say your own name.”

“Lambert, stop,” the second man ordered in a much firmer tone which left no room for arguments.

“He’s a human, Eskel! For all we know he’s the reason Geralt and Ciri sounded the alarm. What if he hurt them?” Lambert argued, allowing anger to get the better of him. Before Jaskier could deny the accusations thrown at him, he felt Lambert’s hand tighten around his throat and squeeze the area until Jaskier was visibly struggling for breath. He vaguely heard the other man, Eskel, bellowing at Lambert to let go of him, but all it did was encourage Lambert to apply more pressure on Jaskier’s throat.

Death through asphyxiation it was, then. Not as peaceful as Jaskier would have liked, but he was not exactly in any position to argue.

“STOP!” a third voice called, although it sounded so faint and distant Jaskier might as well have hallucinated the entire thing. Jaskier’s eyes fluttered shut as he became lightheaded from the lack of air in his lungs. He had lost all sensation in his limbs and extremities. At this point, Jaskier figured that there was no point in struggling, and resented himself to welcome death with open arms.

Destiny clearly had other plans in store for him.

Jaskier unexpectedly felt a weight being lifted from his chest as Lambert was forcibly removed from him. With the hand which had been strangling him now gone, Jaskier was able to breathe easily again. He gasped loudly as he desperately tried to fill his lungs with much needed air. A considerably softer hand patted his back soothingly, and only once Jaskier had somewhat steading his breath did he realise that someone was whispering words of encouragement in his ear.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. Take it easy, that’s it…”

A girl’s voice, Jaskier realised.

“Get the fuck off me!” Lambert roared, an action which caught Jaskier’s attention. His eyes widened at the sight he was met with. In a formidable turn of events, Lambert was now being tackled to the ground by a wolf so large Jaskier almost mistook it for a small horse. His heart dropped in his chest when he identified the beast as the same wolf who had pounced on him in the cave several hours earlier.

What the fuck is going on?

“Geralt, Ciri! You’re alive!” Eskel exclaimed with genuine relief noticeable in his tone.

“Oh happy days,” Lambert drawled facetiously, earning himself a warning snarl from the wolf pinning him to the ground.

“Lambert, this human saved my life,” the girl, Ciri, declared with such assurance that Jaskier was almost inclined to believe her, even though he was positively certain he had never met the girl before. Lambert, on the other hand, looked a lot less convinced that Jaskier was capable of anything of the sort.

“Him?” Lambert scoffed incredulously, “But… but he’s…”

“He saved me, Lambert,” Ciri repeated, emphasising every word while she stared intently at a baffled Lambert. Jaskier shot Ciri a confused look, but she paid him no heed.

“Let’s all calm down,” Eskel said in a calm, composed way, “Lambert, you especially.”

“But this is a human, brother,” Lambert argued, his voice betraying his hurt and bitterness, “do I need to remind you what happened the last time humans got to close to the keep? The last time they got too close to us? Carnage, that’s what. Ask the elves, as the sorceresses of Aretuza, ask any race that has been obliterated as a result of humans’ greed for power and wealth. Wherever humans go, carnage and bloodbaths follow. What makes you think this human is any different than the rest of them? He could be a spy of Nilfgaard.”

“Lambert, just look at him,” Eskel pointed at Jaskier demonstratively, “do you really think that guy looks like spy-material to you?”

“While I appreciate you defending me, I – “

“He would make for a piss-poor spy if he looked the part, brother,” Lambert interrupted Jaskier without as much as a second glance.

“If I may say something here,” Jaskier piped up, his voice hoarse from having his throat and vocal cords manhandled by Lambert earlier. Jaskier cleared his throat and used the opportunity to rise to his feet, “I don’t know what you, sir Lambert, are referring to, but I can assure you that I am no assassin, no hired spy from Nilfgaard and I am most certainly not out looking for trouble. My name is Jaskier, I am a travelling bard who apparently wandered too far into the mountains and got lost. All I want is to go back to my life and forget all about this horrible place. Please, you have to believe me. I am no adventurer, I am also not a hero despite what this young lady claims. In fact, as nice as you were to wedge that in to save me from being choked to death, miss, I have never seen you in my life. The only life I saved in the past twelve hours was that of a – “

“Wolf?” Ciri supplied, a small amused smile appearing on her young features, “flaxen coat, suffering from a festering wound, travelling with that grumpy silver wolf?” Ciri pointed at Geralt, who merely let out a nonplussed huff at the rather unflattering description provided by the young girl. Ciri ignored his reaction as she turned her focus back to Jaskier. “You healed my festering wound with some kind of magic ointment.”

“Magic ointment?” Eskel reiterated, almost to confirm that he heard Ciri right. Even Lambert seemed at loss for words. In the meantime, Jaskier was nothing short of bewildered. He pinched himself discreetly, hoping to soon wake up from this messed up dream. Magic ointments? Wolves the size of small horses, who can conveniently turn into humans. While that would make for an entertaining, albeit blasphemous story, Jaskier could not understand how any of it could possibly be real. Shapeshifting wolves and hidden brotherhoods were concepts that belonged to the legends of old, and –

Hold the fuck up!

“Jaskier? Are you okay?” Ciri asked, concern evident in her voice and reflected in her cerulean blue eyes. Jaskier ignored her, unable to tear his gaze away from the silver wolf who was staring at him with piercing yellow eyes. A large scar marred the left side of his long face, probably one of many. There was intelligence reflected in those orbs, as well as recognition and understanding. Everything suddenly seemed to click into place.

Witchers.

Shapeshifting witchers.

The legends were all true.

Melitele be damned!

“He knows too much,” Lambert decreed as he rose effortlessly to his feet. Jaskier was grateful that he showed no sign of attacking him again. “Even if he’s not a spy, even if he’s as innocent as he claims he is, he has been let in on our secret. We can’t risk sending him back to the humans and have our identity and location revealed. We would be opening ourselves to a new attack, a new massacre. We must kill him.”

“Absolutely not!” Ciri cried out, positioning herself in front of Jaskier so that she was shielding him from harm. An endearing gesture, but admittedly not one that filled Jaskier with much confidence. Even though they seemed just as hot-headed as each other, Ciri was physically no match for Lambert. Not that this would discourage the young girl, Jaskier could tell. “That human did not deserve to die. He saved my life, he was kind! I won’t let you harm him.”

“And what will you do to stop me, princess?”

Jaskier noticed the way the silver wolf – Geralt, if his memory served him right – curled his upper lip to reveal sharp canines. No sound escaped his mouth, and none was needed to get his message across. Threaten Ciri, and he would make it a personal affair. Jaskier swallowed thickly, his nervousness getting the better of him. Lambert, despite seeming confident, was evidently all-bark-no-bite. Geralt’s warning seemed to have the desire effect, and Jaskier watched with awe as his attacker stepped away from him and Ciri without another word. Satisfied, Geralt turned his head back to Jaskier and fixated him with those piercing eyes again. To say that Jaskier felt unsettled by their intensity was an understatement.

“Let him go,” Ciri demanded, “as repayment for saving my life. We can give him a potion that will make him forget ever meeting us.”

“Well, I don’t think I would like that very – “

Jaskier’s complaint was shut down by the silver wolf producing a low rumble which started at the bottom of his chest and travelled all the way up his throat. It was not aggressive, but it was enough of a warning for Jaskier to bite his tongue.

“He was carrying a magic ointment. He clearly understands how magic works, perhaps even knows how to control his inner chaos, too. What is to say he won’t find a way to reverse the spell?” Lambert argued, making Jaskier scoff in disbelief.

“Why I’ll say, I have never heard such ridiculous notion...”

“Shut up!” Eskel admonished him, but Jaskier was growing more confident knowing he had Ciri’s support and that the silver wolf would potentially intervene if anyone tried to kill him, even if just for Ciri’s sake.

“No, I won’t shut up! I would very much appreciate it if you stopped treating me like I was invisible. First of all, I have a name and I very much like you to use it rather than refer to me as ‘the human’. Second, as for my political views, I don’t tend to share them and I cannot say that I am much of a political connoisseur, but I am most definitely not in Nilfgaard’s pockets, much less do I agree with their values or their practices. Finally, I just want to get back to my own life. I will take your secret to my grave, you have my word. Please, I just want to go home.”

Ciri shot him a compassionate look, while Lambert focused so hard on keeping his mouth shut his face turned bright red and his nostrils flared, giving him the airs of an enraged animal. Eskel looked contemplative as he pondered Jaskier’s words, and Geralt… well, he looked calm for a wolf. It was hard to gauge his thoughts when he was in animal form. Jaskier wondered what the silver wolf looked like in his human form. Judging by the white and silver fur, Jaskier could only imagine him as an old man sporting a long beard and making wise statements that ended every feud. He also appeared to be the most senior member of the group, which only reinforced Jaskier’s theory. Then again, appearances could be deceiving. Ciri was the living proof of that.

“I agree with you Ciri,” Eskel declared after several minutes of silent reflection, “the hu – Jaskier deserves at least the benefit of the doubt for saving you. I also agree with Eskel, however, that we cannot let him go free with how much he knows about us.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Lambert enquired, clearly unhappy with the outcome. Eskel did not instantly reply, instead seeking Geralt’s yellow eyes. Jaskier wondered if they could communicate through some magical bond, but he figured his questions could wait.

“Let’s take him to Vesemir.”

“Back to the keep?” Lambert cried out indignantly, “a human at Kaer Morhen? Are you out of your fucking mind, brother? I can’t believe you’re suggesting this.”

Kaer Morhen. The witchers’ keep that was destroyed over a century ago. If Jaskier was not convinced that he was dealing with the witchers of old before, there was no denying their identity now. He had to remember to cash in his reward from those peasants, provided he made it out of the forest alive.

“Vesemir will decide what to do with the human. Lambert, unless you have a better idea other than killing the human, I suggest you pipe the fuck down.”

“But – “

“You are not in charge, brother. This is a group decision, and you are outnumbered. Either you get on with it, or you suck it up. You can argue your case before Vesemir, but until then you keep your mouth shut and your murderous tendencies to yourself. Have I made myself clear?” Lambert looked about to argue, but to Jaskier’s surprise he nodded his understanding stiffly. “Good, that’s settled. Let’s head back to the keep before we get caught in the snow.”

Jaskier felt anxiety take a hold of him again, and were it not for Ciri’s comforting hand on his bicep and the knowledge that Geralt could outrun him even on a bad day with a broken leg, Jaskier would have probably attempted to run for his life. There was nowhere to run to, though. And he had a greater chance of survival by travelling with those… witchers… than by running around in circles like a headless chicken in the forest all day and night.

Reluctantly, Jaskier followed the others as they made their way to Kaer Morhen.

TBC.

Taglist: @wintekit-1221 @littleredhotsridinghood

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #dandelion x geralt #geralt x dandelion #ciri #eskel #lambert #wip #wolf geralt

18 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Lost one sibling, gained four more; Queen x teen reader pt.1

*Author's note*

Can this be true? Two updates in one day?! Well you better damn BELIEVE IT MY PEOPLE!!! I just got this request FINALLY done after working non-stop when I could and finally I had time to just sit down and finish it. So I'd love to thank the requestor for being SOOO patient. And yes this request is VERY long so this is just Part one, pt.2 will be posted immediately after this so just hang tight my darlings :)

So warnings include: INSANE FLUFF, cancerous sickness (leukemia), some angst (but not in the part but buckle up for pt.2), and the lovely and nasty Queenies :) Hope you all enjoy this fic as much as you've enjoyed the last one :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@platawnic

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

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*Tokyo, Japan 1974*

Being here in Tokyo, Japan has been such a thrill. Even though the boys weren't overly popular like the Beatles or Elton John just yet back home in England, at least here in Japan they've greeted them like royalty. There were screaming fans everywhere to greet us at the airport holding up pictures, drawings and signs welcoming the guys to their home country.

The boys had a press conference earlier today and now we were in a special garden just behind the Tokyo tower for the tea ceremony. It was such a beautiful day for such a ceremony and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

As I looked at the boys I could tell they were extremely happy to be here. I looked down at my art book and went back to sketching the boys who were all sitting along the blanket holding their Japanese teacups. Making sure to get each detail of each of their features, and the last detail like the wind blowing their hair down just right.

Oh I should introduce myself; my names (y/n) (l/n). I had gotten a job being an assistant to the band's lawyer Jim Beach just before Queen began recording their 3rd album "Sheer Heart attack". Since joining the boys over a year ago when I was just 16 years old, they have become like a second family to me.

And it's exactly what I needed because—well I've been dealing with some hardships in my family as of late for the past few years now, so being with the guys has really helped brighten my day.

As I watched the boys play with their gifts given to them by the Japanese fans and giving them a recorded message, curtesy of the Japanese press that had joined us along with the ladies who help run the tea ceremonies for only the elite politicians of Japan.

God were they ever silly, Roger photobombing behind in almost every message, Deacy being a secret cheeky guy, Freddie interrupting Roger's greeting, and Brian stepping in when he felt like it during Fred's message. I continued my outline of the boys on the blanket with the Tokyo tower in the background, when I felt something touch behind my ear.

"A blossom for our blossom." I softly grinned and turned around to see Freddie and Deacy standing behind me. I lifted my hand to see just what he had done but he told me, "No, no darling don't touch it. Deacy darling, take a picture of us two."

I blushed and tried to bury my face into my hands.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no love not this time. You've been avoiding all pictures ever since we got here. I deserve at least one with you in it for myself." Deacy said as Freddie pulled me close onto his lap and leaned his head against mine.

"You guys are nuts, you know that?"

"But you love us dear." Freddie said as he gave my temple a quick peck.

"Yeah, guess I do."

"Alright you two look this way." Deacy said as he prepped his camera. We turned to face Deacy and I wrapped my arms around Fred's neck and his arms went around my waist as we leaned our heads against each other's. Deacy got in a few pictures and he said. "Beautiful."

"Tell me we can see the blossom in her hair Deacy."

"Yep, got a clear picture of that." I gently removed the twig from my hair to see a multiple line of cheery blossoms. I smiled and that's when Fred grabbed my art book.

"Working on some new sketches darling?"

"Yeah, Japan's definitely given me some beautiful inspiration. But most of it is still a work in process, so no lookies."

"Aww c'mon dear let me have a sneak peek, please? From one designer to another?"

"No not even if you were my professor Freddie."

"Oh you better hand over the sketch book (Y/n) darling, if you know it's good for you." He playfully threatened. I gripped my book tightly to my chest and that's when he said. "Fine, you leave me no choice. Roger!"

"Shit no!" I took off running and before I even knew it, Roger quickly swooped in and swung me around and he said.

"Might as well give up lovie, you know it's useless to get out of my grasp." He emphasized his point by nuzzling my head like a cat and peppering my face with slobbery kisses.

"Eww Rog! Cut it out!!" I tried to escape his grip but as always it was pointless to escape the arms of Roger Taylor. He kept peppering kisses all over my face, even poking me in the sides slightly tickling me till the grip on my notebook was just enough for it to fall.

Deacy caught it and handed it to Fred.

"Thank you my darlings."

"Deacy, Rog, you both are on the official hate list. I no longer like you two." I huffed.

"Aww, that hurts poppet, that really hurts." Deacy mocked using the puppy dog eyes on me that he knew I couldn't resist.

"After all we've been through (n/n) you'd just dump me like that?" Roger faked cried.

"You are such a drama queen Rog." He grinned and playfully ruffled my hair and that's when Freddie said.

"Ohh (y/n) darling. These are—there's not even a word that can describe what I'm looking at. The realism is uncanny down to the last detail. You even got Brian's hair right and not even I can do that."

"I'll admit, even though I'm no artist that these pictures look like a photograph being developed. You're truly talented (y/n)." Deacy praised me as he looked over Fred's shoulder. Brian soon came up and he said.

"I must admit Fred's right. Every hair detail for all of us is down to the straight detail. Do you—think I could get a signed copy of this?"

"Not if I take one first Brian." Roger spoke up.

"I swear darling, you should go to the university I went to; Ealing Art college. They'd be soo lucky to have you."

"Well.....I mean they're okay but I don't think they're worthy of that university." I muttered.

"Don't be so modest darling, I'll even give you a recommendation. As an alumni I can have the rights to help you get in." he decreed.

"Well I'll—I'll think about it Freddie. Right now I just want to get through secondary school and graduate from that." After that conversation, the five of us continued to have a fun time in the Japanese garden.

After the tour in Japan, I arrived back in London and as the guys were piling in the cab Roger said.

"C'mon love let's go."

"Actually I promised my mum that I'd wait here for her. She said she was gonna take me home."

"You sure?" asked Brian.

"Yeah, she might be waiting outside right now. You guys go on ahead I'll see you guys next week."

"Alright, thanks for coming with us love."

"Thank you guys for inviting me. I had a wonderful time."

"You always make our tours and trips more memorable (y/n) dear. Drive safe." He came up and kissed my cheeks and hugged me. I hugged each of my boys and they piled into the cab waving goodbye to me. I blew them a kiss goodbye and they took off in the cab.

About five minutes after they left, my mom's van pulled up. I smiled at her and picked up my luggage and headed towards the car. I placed them in the backseat and I hugged my mum.

"Did you have fun love?"

"Ohh Japan was so beautiful, I wish you and Kay could've been there to see it."

"I'm sure your sister would've loved to have gone with you."

"How—how has she been?"

"Well we—had a bit of a scare just the other week, but she's stable now."

"What? What happened to her?! Why didn't you call me?"

"I tried but each time I did no one was answering. Plus with the time difference and this internship I didn't want you distracted."

"Mum, if something happens to Kaylee, I deserve to know." She cupped the side of my face and said.

"You're right I'm sorry. Do you wish to see her?" I nodded and said.

"I still gotta give her that gift I promised her." My mum shifted the car into drive and drove us out of the airport to London hospital.

Once we arrived at the hospital, my mum checked us in and we headed towards my sister's room on the 5th floor. Now you remember me mentioning about the family turmoil right? Well it all has to do with my bestest friend in the whole wide world, my older sister Kaylee. See about 4 or 5 years ago we noticed how she'd always get high fevers and suddenly seemed to be losing weight.

At first I thought she was going anorexic but when she passed out and my mum and I saw the bruises forming on her arms, we immediately rushed her over here to the hospital where they diagnosed her with acute myeloid leukemia.

It devastated the whole family and it really began to take a toll on my mum and now we're hardly able to afford my sister's medical bills to pay for all the chemo she has to go through. That's why I got the job with Jim in the first place.

Any checks I get from him, go straight to my sister. Not my college fund. In fact I'm not even going to college, cause I want to continue to fund for my sister's health, and finally get her the cure she deserves.

When we got to her room, there she was lying on her bed, beanie on top of her head to cover her bald head. She turned over to me and smiled tiredly.

"Hey (y/n)." I smiled and rushed over to her and hugged her without hurting her. "How was Japan?"

"It was beautiful. Maybe once you're out and better we can take a trip there."

"I hope so."

"Oh hey, I got you what you've been asking for." I went into my bag and pulled out a poster of the Queen 2 poster that had all the guys' signatures on them. I had asked them while we were in Japan if they could sign this for me. Easily able to trick them, I told them to write it for Kay, telling them that it was a nickname of sorts.

"Oh my god." She squealed softly as she took the poster in her hands and looked at it. See she's the reason why I got into Queen. Since she's two years older than me, she first heard about the first Queen album and kept playing it on repeat.

Liking the music I was hearing, she gave me a brief education on Queen and ever since then, we've been fangirls of Queen ever since. They're music has really helped my sister a lot especially since her leukemia has seemed to be getting progressively worse in the past year.

"Thank you (y/n). You are so lucky that you get to work with them."

"Well it's mostly just doing stuff for their lawyer. I don't actually help make the songs."

"Still, you're living every girl's dream right now at the chance of even being close to them. Are they nice?"

"Oh Kay, nice doesn't even begin to describe them. They're so sweet and down to earth. Cheeky at times especially Roger and Freddie, but they are all so supportive and treat me like I'm a part of their little family."

"I'm glad they're treating you right." I then showed her some of the pictures that I had drew while I was there and some of the photos I took. "God (y/n). I envy you for your drawings. And the fact that you were in Japan. You know I always wanted to go there."

"Well—maybe when you get out, we can take a trip there." Unaware of my mum's solemn attitude, my sister smiled and said.

"Yeah. Maybe we can make it just the two of us squirt." She playfully shoved my head, our friendly little gesture of affection since we were kids.

"Hey I'm 2 years younger than you."

"Still a squirt compared to me." She teased.

After about a week of being back home, I went between my final few weeks of home schooling, the studio and the hospital. Right now I was sitting with my sister, the two of us having the boys' "Sheer Heart attack" album playing in the background as my sister and I were chatting away.

"Okay so FMK; Paul McCartney, David Bowie or Elton John." I asked my sister.

"Oh Goddamnit (n/n) why make me choose those three. I love all of them!" she whined.

"Cause I'm evil like that. No c'mon you made me have to kill Brian the last time so this is payback."

"Okay, okay. So.....ugh I hate you. Okay I would marry Elton, fuck Paul and I'm sorry David. God I hate you so much!"

"Haha!"

"Well don't let David hear you say that darling." Oh god it—it can't be. We suddenly looked up and there stood Brian, Freddie, Deacy and Roger.

"Oh my god what are—what are you guys doing here?"

"You left your journal at the studio last night. We called your mum to see if we could give it to you at the house but she told us you were at the hospital." Answered Deacy as he held up my art journal.

"At first we got worried that something bad had happened to you, but then she explained to us what was going on." Continued Roger.

"So you must be the real Kay." Freddie pointed towards my sister.

"Guys I'm—I'm sorry I tricked you, I just....."

"It's alright love. There's no need to explain. It's sweet you got something for your sister after all you've done for her. But we figured maybe a visit from the real band might make her day a bit better." Brian said with a soft smile.

"I—I....." Kaylee started as the boys all came in and sat around us.

"So Kaylee darling, which of our three albums is your favorite?" asked Freddie.

"Uhh well I—it's hard to pick but I guess your recent album Sheer Heart attack is probably my favorite."

"Do you have a favorite song from the album?" asked Brian.

"Oh god uhh—can't I say I love them all? It's so hard to pick a favorite song of yours."

"That's understandable." Replied Deacy.

For the rest of the time, my sister got to ask the guys so many questions about how their musical processes, how they choose which lyrics work the best, how the arrangement works when performing, how they all got together, everything she had been dying to know since she was a music nut.

And bless the boys they answered all her questions no matter how ridiculous or embarrassing they were. Soon a nurse came in to tell me that visiting hours were over.

I hugged my sister goodbye and even the guys gave her a hug and kiss goodbye, which made her heart meter skyrocket, especially when she got a kiss to the cheek from Deacy.

I walked out with the guys and we all piled into the car and I said to them.

"Thanks you guys."

"For what lovie?" asked Roger.

"For—being nice to my sister. You four.....have made her happier than my mum and I have seen her in years since she's had to go back and forth between home and the hospital."

"You're family to us (n/n). And if we could give a little bit more back to you, it's always worth it. We're honored that you let us in on this personal matter of your life. Thank you for letting us have your trust." Said Brian.

"Just—promise me that none of this gets leaked out."

"Don't be ridiculous dear. We wouldn't dare proclaim this secret of yours out to the public. Your sister's secret heath crisis is safe with us." Freddie said as he stroked down my hair. I smiled and thanked them once more.

One year later in 1975 I was with the boys, Mr. Reid, Paul Prenter and my boss Jim Beach. We were currently in Ray Foster's office waiting for Freddie to arrive for the meeting of the next hit album. I leaned my chin against my palm as I drummed against the armrest of the chair I was sitting in.

Finally Freddie walked in greeting us with a hello.

"You're late." Said Mr. Foster.

"Am I?" questioned Freddie.

"Saved you a seat." Paul said as he gestured at the chair I was sitting at. He then glared down at me ordering me to move. I sat up but then just before I could walk away to stand beside my boss, I was pulled onto the couch and saw that it was Roger who had pulled me in to sit on his lap. He winked at me and placed a quick peck on my forehead as Mr. Reid introduced my boss to Ray Foster.

"You must stop calling him that." Freddie said as he lit himself a cigarette.

"That's his name." said Mr. Reid.

"No we cannot keep calling him Jim Beach. No that's absurd not to mention unspeakably boring." He breathed in a quick drag before proclaiming. "Miami. From now on; I dub thee, Miami Beach." My boss chuckled then said a quick little teasing joke of Miami Beach.

Truthfully I liked it, hopefully I can have the honor of calling him that one day but for now I'll just settle on Mr. Beach as I have been referring him as.

"Right now that everyone's got an acceptable name let's get to it. Look; we just really need something special. More hits, like "Killer Queen", only bigger."

"It's not bloody widgets we're making. We can't just reproduce Killer Queen." Said Roger as Freddie sat up and walked towards Ray's record player taking out a record from his bag.

"No. We can do better." Said Freddie as he placed the record on the vinyl and turned it on. He lifted the needle and placed it at a specific point and soon coming out of the speakers was the famed song from Carmen. I grinned and as Freddie gracefully walked around moving his finger around to the tun, Mr. Foster bluntly stated.

"It's opera."

"Opera!" exclaimed Mr. Reid.

"Opera." Echoed Paul.

"Ahh there seems to be an echo in here." Deacy stated which made me choke out a laugh. As the song continued, when it got to the big crescendo part of the song, Freddie went all out waving his arm in tune before on the final note, slamming his hand down on Foster's desk. He almost couldn't contain his excitement as I chuckled softly.

Brian, Rog and Deacy were also in tune to the idea as they with less enthusiasm as Freddie but the same interest followed the next crescendo of the choir. Freddie turned the volume down as Brian said.

"See we don't want to repeat ourselves. The same formula over and over."

"Formulas are a complete and utter waste of time." Freddie stated bluntly.

"Formulas work. Let's stick with the formulas. I like formulas." Mr. Foster said.

"We'll call the album......A Night at the Opera." Hmm after a Marx brother's film. Sounds interesting.

"Are you aware that no one actually likes Opera."

"I like it." I said to myself, but I guess it was loud enough because Mr. Foster looked right at me through his shades and asked skeptically.

"Do you?"

"I do as well." I heard my boss say. I looked at him and he gave me a slight nod. God he was such a cool boss.

"No don't misunderstand darling, it's a rock and roll record. With the scale of opera. The pathos of Greek tragedy, the wit of Shakespeare, the—unbridled joy of musical theatre. It's a musical experience. Rather than just another record, something for everyone something—something that will make people feel belongs to them. We'll mix genres, we'll cross boundaries, we'll—we'll—we'll speak in bloody tongues if we want to."

"There-there's no musical ghetto that can contain us." Proclaimed Roger.

"That's it." Freddie pointed towards Roger.

"No one knows what Queen means because it doesn't mean one thing." Deacy pointed out.

All was quiet, man I have a feeling that this album was gonna be the one that would put Queen on the map of the entire world, that after this they were gonna change the name of music forever.

"What do you think John?" Foster asked Mr. Reid.

"I—agree with the band."

"Of course you do." He then turned towards me and asked, "How about you uhh—" I was shocked that he wanted my opinion. I looked to the guys and they gave me an encouraging nod.

"(Y/n). Well—fortune favors the bold, does it not?" I felt Roger pat my shoulder. Freddie then leaned against Foster's desk as he said.

"Surely a man of your—unique taste. Isn't afraid of a little risk?" Foster debated before finally saying.

"Please don't make me regret this."

"You're fun." Freddie pointed out with a grin.

After the meeting, Jim called me into his office and I said as I peeked into it.

"You wished to see me sir?"

"Yes c'mon in (y/n). Have a seat." I took a seat in front of his desk. "Alright (y/n), now it's come to my attention that since you and the boys have gotten so close with each other since you started working here, I feel it's best that since I can't go with them to Rockfield due to my legal matters here as their lawyer, that I'm electing you to go with them to keep an eye on them."

I was flabbergasted. Me? Go with them to Rockfield studios?

"M—Mr. Beach....."

"Miami." Wow he did he really just ask me to call him that. "Freddie's insisted that you refer to me as that from now on." Ahh that Freddie Mercury.

"Miami. I mean it's an honor but I—I don't think I can go away for that long. I mean....."

"Please (y/n). You know as well as I do that Paul has no good intentions when it comes to Queen." That I do. Ever since working with the boys, I've had a sickening feeling about Paul Prenter. There was just something about him that felt—slimy, ill, almost like a virus.

"Yeah."

"There's no other person I would trust more to go with the boys to the farm. Plus they all believe that you should go with them anyway so it's out of my hands either way."

"I'll think about it."

"Just make sure you tell them in two days' time when they leave for the recording." I nodded and stood up. "Oh wait, one more thing. Your paycheck." He then took out his checkbook and wrote down my pay for the 2 weeks. I thanked him but when I looked down, my eyes widened.

"Wait uhh—Miami. This....this is double the normal amount you pay me."

"I know."

"I agreed to be paid 500 pounds."

"It's come to my attention there's some financial struggle you're going through. The boys wouldn't explain it in full detail but they made me aware that you were in dire need of it. Plus I know they can be a lot to handle, so you deserve 1000 anyway." I looked down but couldn't help the small smile across my face.

"Thank you—Miami." He smiled and nodded at me and I left his office with my raised paycheck. As I walked across the hall, I saw the boys go from the snooping position to trying to act nonchalantly, like they weren't spying on me. "I know you four had something to do with this." I said raising my check.

"We have no idea what you're talking about (n/n)." said Brian as he looked over his six-pence coin that served as his guitar pick.

"So you're coming with us right?" asked Freddie.

"I—I'll get back to you on that. I—I need to talk to Kay about it."

"I'm sure she'll let you come with us. C'mon love just say you'll be coming with us." Roger said as he came up and wrapped his arms around me.

"Besides you'll be much better company than Prenter. I'll go mad if I have to see him every day while we're there." Said Deacy.

"Exactly Deacy!" agreed Roger.

So that night after work, I was in Kaylee's room and I told her about what I was going to do for the summer and she was psyched for me.

"I say you go!" she proclaimed.

"But what about you?" I asked. She reached over and took my hand and she said.

"You've been doing too much for me. You've always put me over yourself. And this is your last chance to be a free kid before you start thinking about college. So please for my sake go with them. If not I'll never let you live it down. Ever."

"Okay, okay. I'll give Fred a call tomorrow and tell him."

"Call him tonight."

"Fine. And you're sure you'll be fine."

"Yes. I've got mum to look after me. And I expect new drawings, pictures and lots of stories from you when you get back."

"I promise Kay, thanks girl." She smiled as I leaned forward and we hugged each other.

In two days, the guys picked me up right at 4am on the dot so that way we'd get there by sunrise to the farm. Deacy put my bags in the trunk while I hugged and kissed my mum and sis goodbye.

"Now be sure to be good for these boys (y/n)."

"I will mum. Promise me to keep me updated on everything?"

"You know me, I'll be calling you every night." I smiled and separated from my mum before finally standing before my sister.

"Don't do anything insane till I get back." I told her. She smiled and scoffed playfully.

"How can I? You're taking all the insanity with you." I grinned back at her and the two of us embraced each other. "Have fun tigress."

"Be strong lioness."

"Oh come on let's get a move on! Anymore wasted time here and we'll be late!" I heard Paul cry out.

"Piss off Prenter! Let her say goodbye to her family." Brian sneered.

"Go on, don't want you to get into trouble." Kay said as we separated. I waved bye to them one last time and I got into the car with Rog and Deacy and soon we drove off.

"Since it'll be a long drive and it's still pretty early, why don't you try and go back to sleep (y/n)?" suggested Deacy. I nodded and leaned my head back against the car, but Deacy offered his shoulder for me to sleep on. I took his offer and in his playful jealous tone, Roger spoke up.

"What about me?"

"You fidget around too much on long car rides." I moaned tiredly.

"Why you little—"

"Face it Rog, she loves me more than you do when it comes to sleeping buddies. Isn't that right love?"

"Yeah." I heard Rog huff but then he said.

"Well at least I provide the best blankets." He emphasized that point by draping his fur coat over my shoulders as a blanket.

"Won't deny that though. You both take such good care of me."

"Only the best for you love." I nuzzled into Deacy's shoulder and exhaled tiredly through my nose and began to fall back asleep.

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evilrubberducke · 4 years

Text

IzuMina Week Day 2- Let Me Count the Ways I Love You

And here’s day two of IzuMina week. This time around, the prompt I chose is ‘Night-time Stroll’. A little bit happier and fluffier than the last prompt, so hopefully it will help you fell better in this trying time.

As I said in my last post, I finally made another blog for my writing/Mina obsession. If that’s the content you follow me for, feel free to go give it a follow so you don’t get quite so many extraneous/personal posts from me.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302390

Or on FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13530836/2/IzuMina-Week-2020

"Blergh!" Mina exclaimed in frustration, collapsing back into her chair, "Midori, I can't take any more of this. Can't we be done?"

Izuku leaned back in his own chair, and set his pencil down. The two of them had taken over one of the common room tables for a study session that afternoon, and had hardly left the table since. For Izuku, that was a fairly normal study session, but for Mina it was the kind of epic studython that she rarely engaged in.

They had gone through each and every subject, with Izuku meticulously explaining each part she didn't understand with the same patience and kindness that he always displayed when helping her study.

If it weren't for him, she never would have made it this far. She had always found it hard to concentrate on studying when there were so many other interesting things she could be doing. Even if she sat herself down in front of a textbook and refused to get up until she had finished a chapter, the words often refused to stick in her brain, and her eyes had a tendency to glaze over as she skimmed through the book without really understanding any of it.

Studying with Izuku was different though. She swore that her boyfriend could read the phone book to her, and he would still find a way to make it interesting. She wasn’t sure if it was something about his voice, or just the way he explained things to her without seeming like he was talking down to her that did it, but whatever the reason was, having him read the material to her was way more effective than any study method she had ever tried before. It wasn't a perfect system, and she still needed plenty of repetition to actually cram everything into her head, but it had helped her raise her grades significantly.

“We have been studying for quite a while,” Izuku admitted, “I suppose a break could be good, so long as you don’t make it too long.”

“Yes!” Mina cheered, hopping to her feet. She was happy that her grades were rising, especially since it meant her parents had upped her allowance significantly, but she had always been an active person, and sitting still for so long had been driving her a bit stir crazy.

She stretched her arms out above her head, leaning to the side as she did so to help work some of the kinks out of her back. As she did so, the light of the full moon pouring in the window caught her eye, and she was suddenly struck with the perfect idea for how to relieve her stress, and maybe buy a little extra break time for herself too.

“Hey, Midori, want to go for a walk with me?”

He cocked his head in confusion, then turned to stare out the window into the night beyond. “Ummm, isn’t it a bit late for that?”

“Nope!” Mina chirped, “We’ve still got tons of time before lights out. And there’s plenty of light, cuz of the moon. It’s the perfect night for a stroll!”

“Mina, I really can’t. I still haven’t started on the essay for English, and I really should go over this section ahead of time for when we review it together,” Izuku said, gesturing at the textbook that was in front of him.

Mina blew a raspberry in response. “C’mon Midori! That essay isn’t due till next week. Besides, you’ve been studying for even longer than I have. You need a break as much as I do.”

He wavered for a moment, and Mina seized the chance. She put on her best pleading face, knowing that Izuku was helpless when it came to resisting a pair of puppy dog eyes. She’d realized that little tidbit rather early on in their relationship, and had made great use of it.

Their eyes met, and his resistance crumbled as a small smile spread across his face. “Okay, okay. I’ll come with you. But we are going to finish studying when we get back.”

“Fiiiiiiine,” Mina said with a sigh. Having that hanging over her head would bring down the mood a little, but she would manage.

Despite how warm the day had been, the night air was cool and crisp as Mina stepped outside. She had pulled on a light jacket before heading out, but she still cuddled up to Izuku’s side and pulled his arm around her before they could even start their walk.

Even though they had been dating for several months now, Izuku’s cheeks still flushed slightly from the contact. She liked that look. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside to know that no matter how much time they spent together, and no matter how many times they cuddled, Izuku still cared enough to get flustered over something so simple.

She didn’t really have a destination in mind as the two of them set out into the evening. She just wanted to move around and spend time with her boyfriend thinking about anything but homework. Thankfully UA had plenty of walking paths for them to explore.

The one they ended up choosing wove around the edge of the campus and through the carefully maintained trees there. With the only light coming from the moon overhead, Mina felt like they were walking through an isolated patch of forest instead of the nearly urban school grounds.

“Pretty romantic, huh?” Mina said, glancing up at her boyfriend. He wasn’t that much taller than she was, but the difference in height was noticeable enough when they walked arm in arm.

“Yeah, it really is,” Izuku said, turning his own gaze up to look at the night sky.

“Sooo, why don’t we make it even more romantic?” Mina asked, giving him a light poke in the ribs to pull his attention back to her.

“How so?”

“Like this!” Mina said, stopping in her tracks and turning slightly so she and Izuku were face to face, arms wrapped around each other.

“I like you because you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. You never make me feel stupid for not understanding something, even though it takes me forever to get math. I like you because you’re so passionate about everything you do. You never stop giving it your all, even when things are super tough and it's honestly so inspiring. Everyone in the class looks up to you, me most of all. You make me want to do better, to be better all the time. And even when things are tough, you always help me out. I really, really, really like you, for all of those reasons and a bunch more!”

As she finished, she pulled Izuku in close and planted a kiss on his lips. She put all the feeling she could into the gesture, wishing that she could convey even a tenth of what she felt for the wonderful, adorkable boy who had stolen her heart all those months ago. She couldn’t, of course, but she still tried her best.

By the time she pulled back, Izuku had turned completely red. Mina had thought she had seen him at his blushiest before, but that had been nothing compared to this. Honestly, he looked like he was going to keel over from the amount of blood that had rushed to his head. Not that she really had any room to judge. She could tell her own cheeks were flushed

“Th-That’s not fair,” Izuku mumbled, “You need to warn me before you say stuff like that.”

“No way,” Mina said, “That would mean I don’t get to see your flustered face anymore, and that’s way too cute to never see again.”

“I’m not cute,” Izuku protested, “I’m just… plain.”

“You are a cutie-patootie, mister,” Mina replied, booping him on the nose to forestall any protest, “And sure, I’m a little biased because we’re dating, but that doesn’t change facts. Besides, being cute is more than just looks. It’s how you act too, and that’s something you’ve got down pat. I’ve never met someone who acts quite as cute as you do.”

To her surprise, that last line didn’t send Izuku into another spiral of blushing. Instead, a soft smile bloomed on his face as he locked eyes with her.

“I can think of someone,” he said calmly, “And she’s standing right in front of me.”

Now it was Mina’s turn to be reduced to a blushing mess. There was something about seeing the change in him, from shy and awkward to surprisingly smooth that never failed to set her heart racing.

He wasn’t done there, though. “Mina, I really, really, really like you too. You’re the kindest, sweetest, happiest girl I’ve ever known, and just being around you is enough to make me smile. But that’s not enough for you. You keep getting stronger, and faster, and more amazing every day because you never give up. Even when it’s tough, you just keep smiling and making the world around you a brighter place, just by existing. You’ve taken my breath away since the moment we first met, and I can’t wait to see how you’ll do it next.”

Whereas Mina’s kiss had been quick and passionate, the kiss Izuku laid on her lips was slow, gentle, and so loving that it was all Mina could do not to melt into a happy pink puddle right then and there.

Thankfully, she resisted the urge, and they spent several minutes simply standing there, arms wrapped around each other as they enjoyed the simple intimacy of being close to the person they loved most in the world.

Eventually, however, they did have to break their embrace and return to the dorms. Neither of them were in Aizawa’s good graces at the moment, so any curfew violations would see them cleaning the dorms for a week.

To Mina’s surprise, however, she wasn’t as reluctant to return to the dorms and the pile of unfinished homework within them as she had expected to be. Hearing Izuku’s confessions of affection had been exactly what she needed to recharge her batteries.

It was still going to be a long evening, but she felt like she could handle it. After all, she had her favorite person in the whole world to help her out, and together they could conquer anything.

#izumina #midoriya izuku #mina ashido #izuminaweek2020 #day two #Night-time stroll #fluff #two dorks in love #dekumina #minadeku

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