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genshin-obsessed · 3 years ago

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I Won’t Forget | Thoma x Reader

Heyo cuties! So this fic is for the November collab my bestie @genshin-scenarios has, In Another Life! Please go read the other pieces in there! Now I had a mini dilemma with this because i wasn’t sure what ending to choose… I chose both. Just for insurance purposes lol, the good ending in the main ending. The bad ending is the alternate. Basically, you get to bully yourself ^w^

Word count: 4.5k

Also, this takes place somewhere between Aether saving Thoma from Baal and before he makes her good again. So the decrees are still in place. Also also, this is HEAVILY inspired my my own Hawks fix I wrote about two years ago now. The title is the same too. Don’t worry, I gave myself permission to “plagiarize” myself. It’s ok.

Thoma collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh. Turning his head, his emerald eyes landed on a clock. 11:45. It was just 15 minutes before his birthday and normally, one would be excited, but Thoma wasn’t. It wouldn’t be too long before he was whisked away to a new land for a week just to meet his soulmate.

In this world, everyone was part of a fated pair- or trio if lucky. At midnight on everyone’s 25th birthday, they would fall into a deep sleep and would be transported to the “soulmate” realm. That’s where they would meet their fated pair. There were only two reasons this would fail, if someone wasn’t 25 yet or if they were dead.

Though Thoma was dreading this, the last thing he wanted was his soulmate being dead. He did want to meet them, he was just… nervous. Thoma had spent lots of time around more… impressive people. The traveler, his friends, Ayaka, Ayato, yet he was just a housekeeper. Now, Thoma wasn’t one to shun his title, he was quite proud. It’s just… maybe his soulmate would prefer someone more flashy? Like Aether. Or any of his friends- especially the two archons. Damn… what would his soulmate think if he was an archon?

Thoma groaned and covered his face, rubbing it rather roughly. All month he’d been dreading this very moment. All he wanted was for the link to fail. If it failed, he would have at least another year to figure something out. Anything would do.

Peeking in between his fingers, Thoma looked back at the clock. 11:55. Five minutes. Five measly minutes until he would have to meet his other half and he was FAR from ready.

Five minutes. 300 seconds- less now.

“Please just let it fail…” he whispered, pitifully. He felt awful just for thinking of that, it was practically taboo. What if his other half was dead? That wasn’t just his other half, that was someone’s child, sibling, a parent even. He couldn’t just think that. The fear that resided in his mind clouded his judgment as it would for anyone.

11:59. Less than 60 seconds.

“Please let it fail.”

Less than 20 seconds.

“Just fail. I… I can’t meet you. Ever.”

Less than 10 seconds.

“Just… fail…”

Just as midnight struck, Thoma’s eyes felt heavy. He could feel the extreme fatigue hit his body and he knew. All he saw was a bright light before everything went dark.

***

Thoma shot up in bed, inhaling sharply. Looking around rapidly, he forced himself to take deep breaths to calm down. It took him a moment to realize that he no longer felt that deep-set anxiety he had earlier.

Surveying his surroundings, he realized he was no longer in his room. The room he was in was much larger, it was elegantly decorated with golds and pinks with hints of blues and purples. The bed was much softer and the room smelled distinctly of (scent).

The man needed to take a minute to inhale such a sweet aroma. As he pushed the covers off to get out of bed, his hand brushed against something warm. Hearing a little groan, Thoma’s eyes widened and his heart sank. Slowly- ever so slowly- he turned to look at what he touched.

A person. One buried under the covers, sleeping soundly. All he could see was the back of their head poking out of the bundle of blankets over them. He slowly leaned over, trying to peer into their face. Finding it hard to do without waking them up, he opted to peel the covers away a little.

Thoma’s eyes got wider as he stared down at his sleeping soulmate. They were dressed in white, almost like…

“An angel…” finding it hard to move away, Thoma leaned in again just as they turned their face. There was something about them- about you- that made his heart beat faster than it had before.

Without thinking, Thoma started to move closer to you, eyes glued onto your lips. Before he could kiss you, you wrapped your arms around him, jolting him out of his trance. He tried to pull away, but the warmth that radiated from you was so comforting. All he could really do was lay back down as you settled your head on his chest.

He was still shaken up, but now it was for a different reason. His arms slowly encased you, holding you close to him as if you would disappear otherwise. He couldn’t understand how he went from dreading this meeting to never wanting to let you go.

Oh… it must’ve been this realm. That’s right, the soulmate realm was quite the enigma.

The soulmate realm was where fated pairs would spend an entire week, all to fall in love with each other. It provided them with the perfect environment for it as well. It was practically like a vacation. An entire town would be created, with many lovely people. Every pair was given a home, beautifully decorated. There was also a calming aura, which eliminated any negative feelings such as anxiety, depression, loneliness, fear, and the like. It encouraged the pair to interact and live together just like they were meant to.

However, it wasn’t as kind as it came off. Once the end of the week came, both parties would return back with little to no memories of each other. Research was still being conducted on such a realm, but not much could be offered. No one entered the soulmate realm by choice and no one could go back. You went once for one week on your 25th birthday, then never again.

Though it was rare, it was very possible to never meet your soulmate afterward. Though the effects were grim, to say the least. Those who never met their soulmates afterward led a lonely, empty life. Falling in love with others was hard to do, but possible. Most didn’t want anyone else, they didn’t want to move on, and they lived their lives hoping and praying to find their other half.

Thoma didn’t want to think about that so, instead, he opted to close his eyes and try to sleep just a little bit longer.

***

You shifted in your sleep burying yourself against the warmth you felt. It took a moment, but you finally opened your eyes, looking around a little. You didn't remember falling asleep here. Looking beside you, you came face to face with a very handsome man. His arms were tightly wrapped around you but you didn’t notice because you knew exactly where you were.

This was your soulmate! This super cute guy was your soulmate! You had turned 25 almost a year ago now and you were pretty upset when you didn’t immediately pass out at midnight. You waited- rather impatiently- for your soulmate and you were a bit worried they might’ve died.

But no! Here he was!

Reaching up, you gently placed your hand on his cheek. He unconsciously leaned into it. Soulmates always intrigued you because you’d heard from a friend about a world where they didn’t exist. She told you about a world where there was no such thing as soulmates and that you fell in love with whoever you wanted to. Though, that wasn’t always guaranteed. It piqued your curiosity because in your world, for as long as anyone knew, everyone was fated to another.

So here you were, lying beside your very own soulmate. You wondered what he was like. Where did he live? What did he do? What was his name? Was he happy with life? Did he have any complaints? Did he have a vision? Did he pray to a god? So many questions but did you have enough time?

You wiggled out of the stranger’s arms and slowly walked towards the window. Peeling the curtains apart, you peeked outside to see where you were. Safe to say you were surprised since your eyes were as wide as saucers.

The scene outside felt as if it was stolen right off of a fantasy painting. Bright blue sky, white clouds scattered about, the bright sun shining down upon the green grass and trees. Not too far you saw a flower field, filled with so many different colors. You were sure their scent would reach all the way to your window. You saw birds flying about close to a waterfall that wasn’t too far behind the trees. You could see the bright rainbow peeking through the mist of the waterfall.

This was the soulmate realm. You definitely understood why people didn’t want to leave. This land was to be yours for the week, for you to do as you please. Like a full week’s vacation, which was something you needed from your previously busy days.

Your hand gently slid against the window, still in your trance. You’d barely been awake for a few minutes and you already didn’t want to leave. Forcing yourself to pull away from the window, you went to the bathroom to complete your morning routine. You were excited to get out into the world and explore it.

About half an hour later, you exited the bathroom as quietly as you could. The man was still asleep and you didn’t want to wake him. While you were brushing your hair, you heard rustling behind you, making you face the man in bed. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes gently and looking around.

“You’re awake,” you commented with a smile, “good morning.”

“Good morning.” He said, his emerald eyes landing on you. Silence reigned in the atmosphere as you two just stared at each other, trying to burn the images in your mind.

“Oh! Happy birthday!” You chirped, moving closer and sitting down on the bed beside him. “I’m (y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

“Thank you. I’m Thoma. It’s nice to meet you too.” Thoma wanted to say more, rather than just ending on such an awkward note. Yet he was simply bewitched by you and the words seemed to escape without warning.

You giggled at his rather adorable attitude and pushed yourself to stand up once more. Since it was his birthday, you wanted to do something nice. Though, you weren’t exactly sure what he liked.

“Why don’t you get ready for the day while I get started on breakfast? It’s your birthday so we should celebrate!” His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“N-no! That’s quite alright! I wouldn’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to-”

“Don’t want to? You’re my soulmate, of course, I wanna do something for you! Can I? Please?” You asked, taking his hands. Thoma almost melted at the look in your eyes, he could feel his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. Man, his soulmate was cute.

“O-ok…” he said, nodding slowly.

“Great! By the time you’re ready, I should have breakfast done!” Jumping off the bed, you ran towards the door, only stopping to wave to him before leaving.

Once you were gone, Thoma sighed in relief and placed a hand on his chest. You were too cute for your own good and his health!

“It’s fine,” the man breathed, throwing the covers off of himself and standing up, “I’m fine… it’s fine. They’re fine. We’re all fine.” He mumbled, trying to convince himself as he walked to the bathroom.

***

As promised, by the time Thoma had finished, you had breakfast all ready and placed on the table. As expected, the fridge and pantry were stocked with groceries, snacks, drinks- anything you two would need for the week. The home you two were in was also beautifully furnished, though you were sure you wouldn’t be spending too much time here.

“Oh wow,” Thoma said, stopping at the doorway when he saw the food, “you didn’t have to do all of this.” The table was lined with quite a few breakfast dishes- mainly because you had no idea what he liked.

“I wanted to! Come, sit!” At your words, the man sat in the seat across from you, slowly starting to pull different items onto his plate, much like you. “So, how did you sleep?”

“Well, thank you. This um… doesn’t feel as awkward as I thought it was going to be.” He admitted, to which you nodded.

“Yeah! I was super nervous when I saw the white light. It’s been almost a year, so I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh, you’re already 25?” You nodded.

“Yeah, I turned 25 last year on (birthday). For the next month, every time the clock hit 12, I waited to be sent here but it never happened. Over time, I just kind of forgot about it. Then it finally happened last night! I was so nervous to meet you but excited too!”

Your joy brought him joy, but Thoma did feel guilty for wanting the whole process to fail. He’d only known you, what, five minutes, and you’d already done something so nice for him. Here he was, hoping he’d never meet you.

Though Thoma forced a smile on his face to continue the joyful conversation, a darkness grew in his heart. A darkness that was almost meant to punish him for having such awful thoughts.

***

Your days in the soulmate realm were amazing, to say the least. You and Thoma lived like a real couple, going to bed together, waking up together, eating breakfast, lunch, dinner, going shopping, going on dates- pretty much spending almost every minute together. You loved it but there was an underlying sadness that followed all of this.

When you would wake up in two more days… you would forget him. Thoma would be nothing but a distant memory and you weren’t sure how you were going to find him, especially after finding out he lived in Inazuma- the country that stopped allowing outsiders in.

Thoma faced a similar dilemma as you were from (anywhere but Inazuma) and he couldn’t leave. Not only would he not remember you, but the chance of meeting you in the real world was almost zero. It pained him to even think about it, which led him to completely avoid the idea entirely. But just how long could the two of you evade the oncoming obstacle.

“I’ll find you.” You declared, interrupting the quiet you two sat in. Thoma looked beside him, meeting your eyes. The stars and moon lit up your features, making his heart thump in his chest once more. The sheer determination in your gaze made him almost shy.

“What?” You took his hands, lacing your fingers in his. Taking a deep breath, you repeated yourself as clearly as possible.

“I will find you. I don’t care how long it takes or how impossible it seems, but I will find you, Thoma. I don’t want to be with anyone except you. I just… I need you to wait for me.” Thoma smiled fondly at your words, tightening his hands around yours.

Your announcement had made him so happy, more than words could ever describe. So, instead of answering you with the words he lacked, he answered you with his actions. He leaned in hesitantly before kissing your lips ever so gently.

Your eyes widened at the sensation because even though it had already been five days, this was the first time you two had kissed. His pace was slow and gentle, making you close your eyes to return the gesture of love.

Releasing his hands, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, moving to sit in his lap. Thoma’s arms tightened around your waist before your lips met once more. There was no lust, only pure, innocent love.

Good Ending

Thoma felt his heart flutter at the way you fit in his arms. The warmth that radiated from you was so comforting. He felt at home with you, all of his worries were put to rest when he simply spoke to you. But… there was something he needed to come clean about.

He pulled away slowly, allowing you to adjust yourself on his lap. The silver glow of the moon revealed your bright red cheeks, making his arms tighten around your waist.

“(y/n)...”

“Thoma.” You giggled, hugging him a little bit.

“I…” it was hard for him to admit such a thing, but if he wanted to be with you, then he needed to be honest. “I… never wanted to meet you.” He said, loud and clear. He could feel you tense in his arms which only made him feel worse.

“What?” With a sigh, Thoma loosened his arms and met your eyes.

“I… was scared to meet you. I didn’t think you would like me. I was always around such amazing people that I couldn’t bear to have you-”

“I think you’re pretty amazing,” you interrupted. “I mean, you may not be like your friend Aether, but you have an Aether. I don’t. I think that’s pretty neat. You’ve met three Archons- granted one of them tried to kill you- but I think you’re amazing.”

Thoma didn’t know what to say, what was he supposed to say? He expected you to be furious but you weren’t. You weren’t upset at all…

“You’re… ok?”

“I mean, I’m a bit hurt but I understand. You were scared- so was I. Not wanting to meet your soulmate is normal, even though people don’t want to admit it.”

You wouldn’t allow him to speak bad about himself because to you, he was perfect. Even though his words hurt your feelings, your love for him was stronger. And you knew he didn’t mean it- after all, you’d spent 5 intimate days with him in the soulmate realm.

“It’s ok, Thoma. We all get scared and something like this shouldn’t cause too big of a problem.” You reassured him, kissing his cheek.

Thoma did eventually calm down and the two of you had a lovely time under the stars.

***

Alas, all good things come to an end and so would your time here in this beautiful realm. You and Thoma had spent 7 lovely days in a world built specifically for you. Just like all others, you two managed to fall in love but there was one more challenge ahead of you.

Finding each other.

You and Thoma laid in bed, deciding this is where you wanted to leave as it was the same place you first met. The two of you laid together, tangled up in one another’s arms.

“I’ll have to find some way out of Inazuma.” Thoma commented, making your hand tighten around his unconsciously.

“That or I can find a way into Inazuma.”

“You’ll have to watch that vision of yours or it might get taken away.”

“(Oh don’t worry, I don't have a vision/duly noted, I’ll be sure to hide it).”

“I swear we’ll meet. I don’t want anyone but you.” He whispered, releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around you.

“No matter what,” you started, taking his face, “we’ll be together.” Your lips met in a blissful kiss, one that stole your breath and the remaining time you had.

You two felt the bright light and tingling sensation but only held each other tighter. It wasn’t long before he was gone from your arms and you from his.

***

Thoma’s awakening this time wasn’t as abrupt. He blinked a few times before turning to look at the clock beside him. 12:05am. It had only been 5 minutes, as usual.

A deep frown appeared on his face when he realized he didn’t remember you. He couldn’t recall your face no matter how hard he tried.

However he did get lucky… he remembered your hair and eye color. It was extremely rare to remember a name, practically unheard of.

All he knew was a person from somewhere with eyes that looked like (color) and hair that was (color & style).

That wasn’t much to go on, especially seeing as how he couldn’t leave Inazuma. He couldn’t even remember the region you were from, only that you weren’t near him.

Falling on the bed, he covered his face trying to keep the tears down. It had only been a minute and he already felt so utterly lonely. There was a deep longing in his heart and he didn’t even know who it was for!

Turning and hugging his pillow, a self deprecating comment escaped his throat.

“Happy 25th Thoma…”

Bad Ending

Thoma felt tears prick his eyes as that vicious guilt returned to him. This is what he’d chosen to reject before even meeting. But that’s not why he was so upset. Thoma didn’t ever want to meet you… and that only meant one thing. These links never failed unless one was under 25… or dead.

He never wanted you dead, ever! But that deep wish for this link to never complete only meant one thing, right? It meant he didn’t want you to be alive… he didn’t want to give you the chance to meet him.

You could feel something change as Thoma abruptly pulled away, going so far as to push you off and stand up. You frowned as he took a few steps back, shaking his head.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” You asked, cautiously standing up. Under the moonlight, you could see the gleaming tears that trickled down his red cheeks. You could feel your heart sink and the anxiety build up- you didn’t think he would cry!

“I-I’m sorry.” He whispered, taking another step back. For some reason, the natural aura of this plane didn’t seem to help him or you. Normally any time one would even remotely feel upset, happiness immediately invaded their hearts as to relinquish them of those wretched emotions. So where was that magic? Why was it allowing Thoma to continue feeling this way? Why didn’t it make him feel better?

“What happened? Y-you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I do…” Thoma whispered, clenching his fists. He looked away, desperately wanting to be strong. He looked so pitiful right now and the last person he wanted to see this was you.

“Why?”

“... I… never wanted to meet you.” You weren’t sure if you’d heard him right because there’s no way he would’ve meant that. Sure, lots of people were nervous to meet their soulmates, but it was almost taboo to wish you’d never meet them.

“I’m sorry, what?” Though you asked him to repeat himself, you’d heard him quite clearly the first time. Now your eyes blurred with tears as well, ones that you could no longer control. Taking a deep breath, Thoma spoke slowly, making sure you and he knew exactly what he meant.

“I never wanted to meet you. All night I kept wishing that the link would fail… because I couldn’t bear to see you.”

“But… why?”

“I was scared. I was scared you wouldn’t like me. That… I wasn’t as amazing as the people that I’m around.”

“I don’t care about that,” you argued, feeling the tears starting to overflow, “I’ve never cared about that!”

“I didn’t know! I just… I was scared. I’m… not special.” You scoffed at his words, looking away as the tears poured down your cheeks.

“Yeah, well you’re special to me. You’re my special person and you thought I would be so shallow to dislike you because, what, you’re not like Ayaka? Ayato? Aether?” You had never met these people, but from the way Thoma described them, they seemed to be incredible. But you didn’t want them… you still wanted your Thoma.

“I’m sorry…” he repeated, making you nod slowly.

“Sorry… you’re sorry for wishing I was dead.”

“I never wished for that!”

“You basically did when you hoped we’d never meet! There’s only two reasons-”

“That we know of! There’s only two reasons right now, but maybe it could malfunction! I don’t know!”

“This isn’t a machine, Thoma! A soulmate link doesn’t just malfunction like some raggedy, ancient machine! I’ve been so excited to meet you, since the day I learned about soulmates. I was scared too because I’m nothing special. You’re at least friends with cool people- you at least met the anemo, geo, and electro gods! I haven’t! I’ve only ever (seen the statues/heard about them). The whole time I’ve known you, all I’ve thought about is how you’re such a kind, thoughtful, and caring person! You do everything to make others feel good around you, worrying about your own needs second.”

“I really am sorry.” He whispered, meeting your eyes. You could see it, he really did feel bad. But you couldn’t help but be hurt as well. You wanted nothing more than to run to his arms and claim you forgive him because you don’t care about how he felt before, but how could you?

You didn’t know anything about him either. It was near impossible to fall in love prior to meeting your other half but that didn’t mean you wished for the link to fail. His reason for rejecting you before meeting you meant he had no hope for you.

“Well… then I’m sorry your wish never came true.”

“N-No, wai-”

“I’m sorry you had to meet me. I wish someone else was your soulmate” Thoma moved before he could stop himself, running to you and taking your shoulders.

“D-don’t say that! It was a mistake! Me ever thinking such things was a mistake! I don’t want to lose you- I’m sorry!”

But it was too late. The beautiful and warm atmosphere started to melt away, storm clouds now rolling in. You and Thoma looked around as the wind picked up. You watched as the flowers around you withered away, just like the trees nearby. All the animal sounds stopped immediately and the ground beneath you started to crumble.

“Wh-what’s happening?!” You yelled over the loud roaring of the now crumbling world. Thoma kept an almost painful grasp on your hand as red lightning started to strike the sky.

“(Y/n)!” Thoma exclaimed as the tips of your hair started to turn to gold dust. Slowly, all of you broke apart before disappearing completely. It didn’t take long for the same effect to hit Thoma. He watched as his body slowly fell apart along with the world. “(Y/N)!!! I’M SORRY!” He screamed as the entire world crumbled beneath his feet.

***

Thoma shot up in bed, breathing heavily and scrambling to his feet. His head throbbed in pain and when he looked at the time, it stated 12:05.

No. Your seven days hadn’t run out just yet! He still had time with you. But… who were you?

With a groan, Thoma sat down as he desperately tried to remember you. But nothing came to his mind. Not a face, an eye color, hair color, place of origin, name… nothing. You… didn’t exist in his mind.

Covering his face, Thoma started to cry. Low sobs escaped his lips before turning into louder ones. Screams erupted from him as he slammed his hand onto the ground below, falling to his knees and off of the bed.

The entire Kamisato house was alerted and they ran to his room. But there was nothing they would be able to do. Thoma had lost you… whoever you were.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin thoma x reader #genshin impact reader insert #thoma x reader #genshin x reader #thoma x y/n

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spacedikut · 4 years ago

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the blessing of a blizzard ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a blizzard leaves the team holed up in the bau office. spencer can’t stop thinking about your elusive boyfriend, mike, who might not be your boyfriend after all. 4.3k

a/n: festive fic! kind of! im too scared to do a final check so if there’s errors or i misuse pronouns just lemme know ily happy holidays ! thank you to the incredible @homoose for helping with dialogue :D

Mike. His name is Mike, and Spencer hates him.

Full name Michael, Spencer presumes, which comes from Hebrew meaning “who is like God?” A rhetorical question, implying there is no person like God, Michael was one of the archangels in Hebrew tradition and the only one identified as an archangel in the Bible.

What Michael should mean, however, is the guy that stole your heart and left Spencer thinking things very unlike him – that Mike, a man Spencer has never met and that clearly makes you very happy, has a really stupid name, for example.

There are three things Spencer knows about him:

1. Ever since you started deciding on his wardrobe, ladies love him. It makes you a little jealous, apparently.

2. You love baking him homemade treats whenever you can. Like a movie playing in his head, Spencer can perfectly remember you excitedly chatting with Garcia and Emily, animatedly explaining how excited Mike gets when he sees you’ve made something just for him.

3. Mike can be a bit of a dick, actually. There have been several mornings you’ve come in with a long face, leaning back in your desk chair far enough to view the world upside down and whining about how grumpy Mike was that morning, how you had to tip-toe around your apartment lest he get mad.

You’d called him your soulmate, added that he’s a light in your life you didn’t know you needed until you had him. You’re a person who chooses their words carefully, so when you’re walking around putting Mike and soulmate in the same sentence, you mean business.

That business is ripping Spencer’s heart out of his chest, apparently. Because you’re busy showing JJ pictures of him on your phone right now, blissfully unaware of the subconscious glare Spencer is lasering into your phone as he leans against the jet counter.

Spencer’s never had the honour of seeing Mike (a genuine word you used – honour) and you know what? Spencer doesn’t want to know what Mike looks like. Spencer doesn’t care. Mike’s probably ugly, anyway, and Spencer’s confidence within himself grows day by day and if there’s one thing he’s learnt recently it’s that comparison is the thief of joy and-

“Oh!” JJ exclaims, “He’s gorgeous!”

Fuck Mike. Really, fuck him.

+++

The floor is slippery beneath everyone’s feet, the surrounding area slowly losing its mixture of colours to blend into one coat of white.

It’s snowing.

Garcia greets the team, a steaming cup of tea in her bejewelled hands, and everyone gets to work right away. There’s whispers of the snow getting heavier and sticking and covering more and more ground with more and more depth; people are rushing against the proverbial clock to get done and get home before they’re all stuck.

But that won’t happen, right? If people were genuinely concerned about getting snowed in, surely everyone would’ve been sent home early as a precaution. Right? Right?

Wrong.

Rossi’s the one to notice it, calling out, “Check it out. Snow’s pretty bad.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like they’ll race to the windows then deflate with disappointment because you couldn’t even create a single snowball with that light coat, but holy hell people are walking around with snow up to their ankles and it’s still coming down thick. And then the lights are flickering and JJ is making frantic calls home to Will and Hotch is exiting his office, phone pressed to his ear, calling everyone to attention:

“There’s a blizzard incoming. It’s too dangerous for anyone to be on the roads, so we’re being told to sit tight. You should all try to call home, just in case; we don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

Some people still brave it, still try to head on home, and whether they make it or not is up to the Gods. The team glance around, varying expressions – Emily and Derek look pissed, JJ is worried, and you and Rossi are straight-faced. Penelope is bouncing in excitement.

“It’s like a sleepover!”

All Spencer can think about is how Mike will have to suffer another day without you. He bites back a smile.

+++

Spencer’s straining his neck, butt barely on his desk chair, in attempt to see around all the bustling people that stand between you and him. Through the glass BAU doors, on the phone, your shoulders are slumped and you kick your boot against the floor a few times to channel your multitude of emotions into something. He hopes Mike isn’t giving you a hard time for something that isn’t within your control.

Emily looks up from her monitor, where she’s doing Christmas shopping even though it’s Christmas Eve, and looks thoroughly amused by Spencer’s internal battle of wanting to watch you but not wanting it to be obvious.

“You good, Reid?”

Spencer flinches like Emily pinched him. “Yeah, good. Fine. Are you good?”

Emily makes a show of slowly turning to look at you, still on the phone, then slowly turning back to Spencer’s wide-eyed gaze. She smirks. “You think they’re talking to Mike?”

Yes, Spencer does think that, but he’d made a point to not fully acknowledge it. And there’s something about Emily’s smugness that tells Spencer she’s teasing him – she knows something he doesn’t and it makes his eyes narrow. “Probably. Why?”

Whatever the response is, Emily’s barely opened her mouth before she’s interrupted by Penelope Garcia gracefully clapping her hands, getting the attention of every BAU member. The team quiets and all eyes are on Penelope. Except Spencer, who watches with concern as you sneak back to your desk, a furrow to your brow and downward dips either side of your mouth.

“I know these are less-than-great circumstances, and we’re stuck in work of all places, but that shouldn’t mean we can’t have a little fun! So…”

She wildly gestures for Hotch to step forward, a cheesy grin on her face and a gleam in Hotch’s eye that tells everyone he’s also smiling but internally, and she takes the three large boxes he was carrying like the good sidekick he is.

“We’re building gingerbread houses!”

There’s exclamations of surprise and joy; Emily lights up at the idea of doing anything other than work or sitting at her desk, and JJ takes a box to look it over before asking, “Where did you get these?”

Hotch answers. “They were supposed to be for the kids,” He shrugs, holding back a smile, “However, I guess we can use them now.”

“Yes,” Penelope nods, “Yes, we can use them now. Get your game faces on, because this is a competition. Hotch and Rossi are the judges, because they’re grumpy old men, and the rest of us will be in teams of two fighting to build the best gingerbread house the BAU has ever seen.”

Derek speaks up for the first time, just to insult Spencer. “I refuse to be on a team with Reid. He has no creative skills.”

Members of the team laugh and Spencer reacts indignantly. He wants to reply, but you’re already speaking.

“Hey! I’ll take him! Spencer’s great.”

Many heads snap to you when you speak, Spencer’s surely got whiplash, but you’re looking at him and smiling at him and him alone. He’s breathless at the sight, how you chose him and have literal stars in your eyes, yet all he can think is how undeserving he is of such a beauty. How undeserving anyone is, mostly Mike, to exist in the same reality as someone who puts the definition of beautiful to shame.

Spencer’s about to make the best damn gingerbread house the world has ever seen.

+++

So, building a gingerbread house? A little more difficult than originally thought.

Maybe it’s the sticky icing, or the temptation to simply eat all the sweet decorative candy rather than use it for its intended purpose, or…

Maybe it’s the pretty teammate Spencer has that keeps brushing against him, keeps brushing against his hands, and like a virus to a computer you completely wipe Spencer of all thoughts other than: Y/N.

Spencer caught you watching him while he was rolling up his shirt sleeves, caught you staring at his hands and trailing your eyes up his forearms, following the sleeves as they moved inch by inch up to his elbows.

Then, when Spencer was holding two pieces of gingerbread together, you were too lost in thought to put the icing between the cracks and cement them together. Your eyes were trained on the fingers pressing the pieces together. Spencer had to call your name three times to wake you up.

Then, something weird happened (if the previous instances weren’t weird enough). You two had been in your own bubble of hushed tones and accidental touching, surrounded by bickering and collapsing houses and at one point Emily offered Rossi twenty bucks if he just votes for her and JJ without them making a house, and suddenly it’s silent. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his blood pumping in his ears, and all he can feel is the warmth of your breath on his ear because you’re right there, over his shoulder, joining him in hunching over your creation to decorate it with all kinds of shapes and colours.

The close proximity is too much. It’s too much.

You lean even closer, shoulder and arm pressed directly against Spencer’s, and lift another hand to place a miniature candy cane next to the gingerbread door. The action causes your hand to brush Spencer’s, and for the first time ever he’s not jolting away like he’s been electrocuted, no, his hand stays there, hovering, waiting and hoping for more.

Hoping for more of you.

And you seem to realise, too, that Spencer’s reaction is abnormal. He can’t decide if you’re testing the waters, or if it was a mere accident. But what are you testing the waters for? Why are you trying to touch him? Why do you want to touch him?

He takes a sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eye, he sees you turn to look at him, and he almost doesn’t reciprocate. Almost.

You’re so close, face so close to his own. You take the softest breaths, in and out, sending the gentlest puffs of air onto Spencer’s lips.

He has no idea what the fuck is happening. He doesn’t want it to stop.

Your eyes, always shining and full of an emotion Spencer can’t decipher, dance around his face – his eyes, to his nose, stopping on each cheek, back and forth and up and down. Spencer’s captured by them, unable to tear himself away, which has become quite the habit since he’s known you.

Then you’re looking at his lips.

Spencer blinks, hoping to clear away the obvious hallucination he’s having, but no. Nothing changes. Your gaze remains, unwavered, making Spencer subconsciously open his mouth. The softest gasp leaves it when your pupils dilate.

This is the perfect moment to kiss, right? Right here, in front of the gingerbread house you made together, decorated together, and now begin the start of something else together. It makes sense, it’s almost poetic, and Spencer’s thought about you and him in a relationship enough times to consider this opportunity good and sweet enough to regale everyone with in the future.

Can you imagine it? “We had our first kiss in front of the gingerbread house we slaved over together. We won the competition, too.”

There’s a loud clang – Penelope found an actual gong from somewhere – and Rossi announces that the timer has gone off and it’s time for the judges to vote for the winner.

When you gently pick up yours and Spencer’s creation and take it to a cloth-covered table, where Rossi and Hotch ominously stand with their arms crossed, Spencer is frozen in place.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

There’s no way you wanted to kiss him. It isn’t possible. You’ve never looked at him like that before. It must’ve been a mistake.

But you were so close…

No. If Spencer made that move, it would’ve ruined everything – your friendship, the festive fun, the atmosphere of the entire evening. Everyone’s expected to be stuck here for at least another six hours, and making it tense and awkward was not something Spencer is willing to do.

But your eyes…

Spencer can’t think about that fact too much. That could mean anything – dilated pupils don’t necessarily mean you’re in love. You could’ve gotten a good whiff of the gingerbread and felt hungry, or a song you really liked started playing from the playlist Penelope created. Or, most likely, Spencer thinks, you were thinking about someone else.

Your boyfriend, for example.

You have a boyfriend. Mike.

Of course, you were probably thinking of Mike. Your boyfriend.

Spencer almost kissed someone in a relationship, and he’s pretty sure you almost kissed him too.

+++

Much to Derek’s chagrin, you and Spencer win the gingerbread house contest.

Penelope was baffled, frantically gesturing to the Jacuzzi she made with icing and- Derek made miniature weights? Somehow? It looked chaotic.

“Practicality, my dear,” Rossi told her. “Who, living in a gingerbread house, is worried about working out?”

Even though you and Spencer were the winners, Derek and Penelope and their pouting (and calls for a rematch) took the attention away from the obvious awkward tension between the winners. Spencer stayed at the desk you worked at while you took your house to the judges, stayed at the desk when you were crowned and stayed at the desk when you cheered.

You looked at him, wide grin and happy eyes, and all he could do was tightly smile back. Give a thumbs up.

He gave you a thumbs up. You nearly kissed less than ten minutes prior. And all he could do was give you a thumbs up.

The light in your eyes dimmed, but you seemed to understand.

Understand what, exactly? Spencer’s not so sure either. But something clicked in your head – you nodded to yourself as if confirming whatever you’ve concluded, and turned your back to him.

That was an hour ago. Now, the team has spread across everyone’s desks. Turns out, Hotch is a big fan of gingerbread - he’s consumed most of Derek and Penelope’s creation, icing and all, while Rossi has decided now is a good time to open one of the many bottles of whiskey he has in his office.

Spencer believes having that much alcohol in your work environment is breaking some kind of rule, but the snow isn’t letting up and it looks like a sleepover in the BAU office is likely. He deserves a little whiskey.

And where are you in all of this?

Spencer won’t lie and pretend he hasn’t had you in his line of sight the entire time, so he’ll recap what you’ve been doing: laughing at Derek’s jokes, plaiting Penelope’s hair, eating the candy Emily and JJ didn’t use on their house.

You’d left the room to call home and check up on things (check up on Mike, Spencer thinks bitterly) and now you stand in front of the large window by the BAU elevators, watching the snow fall.

Spencer has the perfect view of you through the glass doors. When the call ends and you stay there, he grabs a paper plate, grabs one of the walls from yours and his masterpiece and makes his way towards you.

He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how he’ll even act, but he wants to talk to you. Things feel weird after the almost-kiss, and Spencer never wants things to be weird with you. He can’t have things weird with you. You hadn’t talked to him once since the competition, and he has a feeling you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

So he does. If that’s what you need, he’ll do it.

(He’s making this more dramatic than it needs to be, really, but he feels everything so deeply when it comes to you)

“Hey.”

Spencer’s voice perfectly matches the snowy atmosphere. It makes you feel warm inside, like you’ve just taken a sip of hot cocoa, and so often he’s left goosebumps on your skin just from speaking.

Seeing the outstretched paper plate in his hand, you take it gratefully. “Hi there. Thanks.” You nod to the gingerbread that you begin breaking up.

You hand him the first piece even though he brought it for you, and it’s silent while you both chew thoughtfully and watch the pure white outside. It doesn’t feel weird, necessarily, standing here, shoulder-to-shoulder with you, but you’re certainly more in your head than usual. You’re thinking a lot and, as much as it hurts him, Spencer knows you’re likely preoccupied by your boyfriend and not what transpired between you earlier.

It’s that thought, that disappointment settling into his chest, that opens his mouth unconsciously: “How’s Mike? Does he know you’re not making it home tonight?”

He regrets it immediately, worsened by the way you stop mid-chew, eyes dimming like Spencer’s taken a baseball bat and shattered the lights inside.

This is unchartered territory – talking about Mike with you – and you know it. Who, in their right mind, willingly asks the person they have feelings for how their relationship with someone that isn’t you is going? Does Spencer enjoy pain?

Although this is the first time Spencer’s mentioned Mike to your face (he’s mentioned Mike plenty to a laughing Derek), he’s been so close to presenting the topic many times. He wants to know so badly – wants to know how well Mike treats you, really treats you (he will profile you), if you see a long-term future with him and if not, on average how long does it take you to get over your exes? Just an estimate?

You swallow the gingerbread you’re eating. “He’s okay. My roommate has to take care of him, but at least he’s got someone.”

Huh?

Since when do you have a roommate?

And why is your roommate taking care of your boyfriend?

Oh. Guilt blooms in Spencer when it registers that he’s been thinking ill of a person that might be sick. No wonder you dote on him so much and seemed devastated to make that phone call home earlier - Mike needs you, you can’t be there for him, and you feel horrible for it.

Spencer feels horrible for having the subject of his anger be someone you so clearly cherish, so deeply love. He’s embarrassed that if he was asked to explain why he hates Mike so much, he’d have to tell them it’s because Mike has you, and you’re what Spencer wants. What about what you want?

“Take care of him?” Spencer asks. The concern is genuine, which is an emotion he never thought he’d have in regards to Mike. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh,” You shrug. “He needs someone watching over him at all times, that’s all.”

That’s all?

You continue. “Make sure he eats – and only eats what he’s supposed to. Give him his meds. Make sure he poops. Those kinda things.”

What?

“Your… roommate makes sure your boyfriend poops?”

Now, Spencer knows what you look like when you’re confused. Honestly, he has every facial expression you’ve graced him with tucked away in a proverbial box he spends too much time thinking about. He knows that when you’re trying not to laugh, you bite the inside of your left cheek. When you’re frustrated but need to present a professional front, you bite the inside of your right cheek. Happiness fills your entire face, like every inch is consumed by it, and you’ve trained yourself to transport anger to your hands, where they twist into tight fists and leave fingernail marks in your palms.

Confusion is one of his favourites (second only to joy – for obvious reasons. Have you seen your smile?) because it takes many forms. You’ve pursed your lips, narrowed your eyes, tapped your foot on the floor. When you do them all, Spencer considers it a jackpot. There’s something about the way you look when you’re presented with something you can’t quite figure out yet, when you’re perplexed, that just-

You make it hard for him to concentrate. He can’t be a genius when you’re around because you’re so pretty. You’re a vision and he can never rattle off information to you specifically because he will trip up and divert to talking about the beauty that is you and that would be embarrassing for many reasons.

But this type of confusion? The way you’re looking at him right now? He’s never seen this before. Your jaw has dropped, your brows are furrowed so deeply they might fall off, and you look… horrified.

“My… my boyfriend?”

Spencer mirrors your expression. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Mike?” He looks around, waiting for cameramen to jump out and tell him he’s being pranked, because why don’t you know who your own boyfriend is?

You move slowly, placing the half-eaten plate on the windowsill before turning to face Spencer fully. You take a second to compose yourself.

“Mike is my cat.”

Mike is…

“And he’s having digestive issues, so he needs to be watched pretty much full-time.”

Silence. Tense, weird silence.

“…You thought Mike was my boyfriend?”

Spencer sputters, then, because of course he did! “Yes! The way you talk about him was… it was… it seemed…”

He flustered, oh so flustered, hands flailing and face enflamed and burning from the inside out. How had he not known?! How had… how had your wires gotten so convoluted, so mixed?

Does everyone know that Mike is a cat? Is Spencer the only one out of the loop? The look Emily gave him earlier, that knowing too-smug look, was that…

She was making fun of him. She knew he thought Mike was a person, not a pet, and was teasing him because of it.

All at once, the world seems lighter and dimmer – a contradiction that leaves Spencer’s chest heaving – because the past year feels like a lie. He’s spent so long seeing the way you come to life when talking about Mike, sitting opposite you on the jet as you awaken like a dying flower watered when home got closer and closer, and it was all for… a cat?

There’s a mist over Spencer’s eyes as he recalls every overheard declaration of love and coos of how handsome Mike is, and you’re laughing. Spencer’s having a crisis in front of your very eyes and you’re laughing. Hunched over, a single tear falling from your eye, clutching your stomach because it hurts from the ferocity of your giggles.

By the time you quieten, your hand is over your mouth to cover the big grin that grounds him, gives him something other than this revelation to focus on. Spencer’s still baffled, frazzled, but there’s the tiniest of smiles on his face because of how overjoyed you look. And he did that. Albeit his stupidity did it, but Spencer’s stupidity nonetheless.

You’re out of breath. “God I… I don’t even know what to say. You really thought my cat was my boyfriend?”

Spencer’s fighting a smile, lips wiggling. The way you’re looking at him now, all blinding smile and crinkled eyes, alleviates him of any anxiety he earlier had. Like you’ve wiped away his plate-full of worries, all the times it felt like he took an arrow to the heart, all the times he caught you smiling at your phone because you were looking at pictures of Mike, it’s all worth it. Because you’ve never looked like this while talking about Mike, and Mike is a cat. He isn’t a person, isn’t your boyfriend. Mike is a cat and Spencer has a chance.

Spencer has a chance.

“Does this… this means you’re single, right?”

A somewhat terrified look overtakes his face.

“Oh, shoot, you are single, right?”

You bite your lower lip and nod. “Yes, Spencer. I’m single.”

He lets out a breath. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” He repeats your nod, realises what he said could imply, and starts shaking his head. “Not-not good good. You��re incredible and need to be appreciated, but… good, because that means we could, you know…” He gestures vaguely. God, why can’t he get coherent words out? “If you wanted to, we could-“

“Are you trying to ask me out, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

Just to cause immense emotional distress, you raise an eyebrow, mischief clear on your face, and wait for him to continue.

“You want me to actually ask?” He winces.

“I’ve spent the last year convinced you didn’t like me, so, yes, I want you to actually ask.”

The new information sends ice down Spencer’s back because what? Since when? “You- what?“

“I’ve liked you for a while, Spencer,” You cross your arms over your body, slightly embarrassed. “But you always kept your distance so I did too, I guess.”

“I thought you were taken!” Spencer exclaims. “If I’d known I would’ve-we could’ve- I would-“

“You’d what, Reid?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone, but there’s no denying you’re incandescently happy.

He takes a deep breath and asks what he’s wanted to for far too long. “When this is all over, would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Relief flashes in your eyes, like you didn’t fully believe what was happening until he finally asked, and words have never sounded as pretty as when you say: “Yes. Yes I would.”

Like lovesick idiots, you stand in front of the window with the snowfall as a backdrop, grinning at each other. You can’t help it – you lean up, press a kiss to his cheek that immediately sets his skin ablaze, and fall back onto your feet with a smile sweeter than all the sugar you’d consumed today.

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

Somehow, despite the nerves and the way his heart is trying to leap into your hands, he manages to tell you, “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

+++

(Three weeks later, Spencer meets the Mike. Turns out he’s a nice guy. Spencer takes the first opportunity he can to apologise for all the bad things he said about him behind his back. The purring tells Spencer he’s forgiven)

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @bitchyreids @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @prettyboy-reid @shadyladyperfection

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #genuinely if anyone reads this and has suggestions on how i can improve as a writer #and maybe as a person in general #pls message me #something about this feels OFF and i cant tell what

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years ago

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Day 9: 👑 Final Curtain Call 👑

A letter arrives in the mail. It is, in one word, beautiful—the header and footer are adorned in a blue-violet banner, edged with a deep red. Gold foliage decorates the corners of the page, granting the letter a sense of style. The handwriting, too, is flowing and graceful.

A large toiletry bag also appears in your mailbox. When you unzip it, you find a wide assorment of jars, tubes, and bottles inside—Each frosted container fades from lavender to clear glass, and rach is packed to the brim with cosmetically elegant fluids or creams. Schoenheit Skincare, the labels proclaim in gold, accompanied by a crown-shaped logo. A large pump of moisturizer has a booklet of instructions and skincare tips secured to it.

***Chapter 5 spoilers!***

To the Ramshackle Resident,

I must extend my gratitude to you for hosting me at your dorm. It was certainly not to the same standards as my usual accomodations, but it served its purpose as our training grounds for VDC.

There is still much to be desired in regards to your managerial abilities. Furthermore, the other potatoes’ vocal and dance skills are still not quite up to par. And their charisma and stage presence? Don’t make me laugh. Of course, none can compare to I, but... You potatoes worked with what you had, and you did well for first-timers. Give yourselves a pat on the back.

... Regarding the Overblot incident, that, too, is something I am thankful you were there for. I never expected for unpolished gems like yourselves to have that amount of fight in you. Then again, I never expected that that ugly aspect of me to be put so blatantly on display. The jeaousy, the rage... I thought I had learned to hide them so well—but it was in stowing those feelings away that they festered into something far more unsightly than what they originlly were. No amount of makeup or acting can cover that up.

Instead of me knocking some sense into you, you potatoes knocked some sense into me. The roles of teacher and student were reversed. Even Epel pitched in to that battle. I suppose he has finally managed to defeat me, just has he has desired since his first day. In that sense, perhaps you all have grown much more than I had initially anticipated you would. For that alone, you deserve a standing ovation—you are the heroes of this story.

I have already informed the headmaster of my Overblot, just as I have said I would. I intend to take full responsibility for my actions. I currently await his judgement. Whatever punitive measures he deems necessary, I shall accept with my head held high. That is the pride of a professional such as myself. Until the final curtain call, I shall stand proudly upon this stage. Ironically, that has ultimately been my wish. It may not have come true as I had envisioned that it would, but... no fairy tale becomes reality without a price.

Know this: nothing in the world is simply handed to you. All my life, I’ve had to work hard to claw my way to the top. I didn’t want to rely on my father’s repuation to make a name for myself in the industry. I simply wanted to be seen as “Vil”. Not “Vil, Son of Schoenheit”. To that end, I have never stopped pushing myself to even greater heights. After all, magic that lasts only until midnight is useless.

In the real world, things are not so clear as black and white. There are no true “heroes”, nor “villains”. People are people, their moralities and views colored grey. I see that now—through all the distorted images in the mirror, through all the noise of the cheering crowd of onlookers.

I am beautiful, and I am ugly. Both good and bad. The hero and the villain of my own story. I don’t need anyone else imposing their will upon that.

I won’t lie. With all my heart, I still desire Neige’s defeat at my hands. I want to beat his simpering smile to the curb. It makes my blood boil knowing that our efforts were in vain, that we lost to a nursery rhyme, of all things! ... And that Rook!! I cannot believe he would betray me like that...! I should tear his heart out for that transgression.

... But in the end, I am grateful for those shocks. I think I needed them more than anything. That brutal honesty, a slap in the face to wake me up from my own clouded viewpoint. Perhaps I was the one believing in a fantasy all along, despite thinking otherwise. I was so concerned about how others envisioned me that I eventually lost sight of myself. The “me” in the mirror, in the reflection of my phone... Was that really “me”?

I am no longer that “me”. I’ve emerged from the ashes of the fire, stronger and burning more beautifully than ever.

Do not be mistaken. This is not my defeat. This is only the beginning.

I still want a “happy ending”. To be on that coveted stage until the final act. When the curtain calls, I want that spotlight to shine the brightest upon me, for the audience to cheer the loudest for me. For now, I want to work on myself��for I am still imperfect. A gem with many flaws.

l’ll settle the score, and this story of mine, on my own terms. Watch me from the wings, potato—and prepare to be utterly starstruck.

Do not think that just because VDC is over that you can go back to slacking around the clock. I want you to work hard toward your goals as well. I’m expecting great things of you. Who knows? Perhaps when next we meet, you will speak of journeying to the Underworld and back. Now that would be a story for the ages.

All the best,

👑 Vil Schoenheit 👑

Pomefiore Dorm Leader

Magicam Influencer, Actor, Model

Movie Appreciation Club Member

Third Year NRC Student

#Vil Schoenhet #twst anni #twisted wondrland #twst #twisted wonderland anni #disney twisted wonderland #twst anniversary #twisted wonderland anniversary #spoilers #magic mystery letters

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simpsiren · 4 years ago

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lee taeyong x reader

description. I liked Lee Taeyong. A lot. And with every book I gave him, whatever purposes, I hid a love letter in between its pages. After all this time, I still wonder if Taeyong has yet to read even one of them.

Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.

genre. fluff, angst, love letters!au, friends to lovers!au, one-sided love! au, bartender!taeyong, university student!reader

word count. 12.4k~

warnings. none!

a/n. was randomly scrolling through printerest when i found this word and suddenly this idea popped up in my headd. i had to change the meaning of the word so tha itll fit the story line better but the overall meaning is the same sooo. anyways that’s all i got for you now please enjoyy!

Books. An interest both Taeyong and I shared since college. Though our interest laid in the same object, our uses for it were far from the same. For me, it’s for reading. Like how it should be used, its main purpose. Like any other bookworm, constantly having my head shoved in romance or fantasy novels. Taeyong on the other hand, he... he uses it as decoration. Something that to him, should be kept on shelves, unread for display purposes.

I got to find out quite quickly that it was a habit for him to collect books that had nice spines just so he could place them on his shelves. I’ve been to his home once. One entire wall was just shelves filled with books. It was aesthetically pleasing indeed, but it disappointed me that he didn’t even bother to read a single one. So we made an agreement that I’d read his books. If he were to buy a new one, he’d let me read it first before tucking it away to never be pulled out again. I guess that’s why my friendship with him worked so well.

Taeyong decided to work as a bartender after college while I, went to pursue my studies with university. Should say that I regretted that on-impulse decision of mine nowadays.

It’s Friday. I just got out of university, at one in the morning. What an ungodly hour, considering that my classes started at nine this morning. I agreed to meet Taeyong at his bar. Luckily for me, the distance between school and the bar wasn’t far. Taeyong took me as a factor into consideration while trying out jobs around the school’s area, just so he’d get to meet me more often. That, was one of the million reasons why I fell for him.

I dragged my feet across the side walk, the screeching of my boots scraping against the rough surface. As much as I tried to hold up my posture during my long trip there (it felt like I’ve been walking forever when really, it has only been ten minutes), my back slowly slouched with each step till I was fully slouching. The extremely poor and back paining kind. Can’t blame me. University is mentally draining, but physically as well, having to walk to different classes constantly that’s being situated on opposite ends of the facility. It’s a workout.

I looked up to take a breather, seeing the glowing sign above the bar. I gazed down, to the glass windows, noticing how there was a lot of people in there. Well, it’s a Friday night afterall. I placed my free hand onto the door’s handle, pushing it open and entering.

Classical music played in the background. People’s murmurs could be heard as they had their own conversations. The place was dimly lit with an orange hue; a calming atmosphere. I went right up to the bar, getting on an empty cushioned stool and adjusting my butt onto it. I looked around the area. Taeyong wasn’t to be seen. I only assumed that he was making drinks.

I took out my book from my tote bag, flipping to the page where I folded it’s edge to continue where I left off. I was already two third done with it. And I was determined to finish it by Monday just so that I could get a new book to read.

My head was faced down, eyes scanning each sentence as I blocked out the entire world, putting myself in my own little bubble as I imagined myself in the story’s plot, too immersed to give a single care for my surroundings.

Suddenly, a hand appeared beside me, tapping its knuckles against the wood to get my attention. I lifted my eyes up, seeing Taeyong standing in front of me. White button up shirt, three buttons unhooked, revealing the slightest bit of his collarbones in a way to tease you and having the urge to see them fully. Black dress pants with a belt that cinched on his waist, framing his lower body beautifully.

“Literally called you from two steps away and you didn’t hear any of it.” Taeyong leaned against the counter, elbows supporting him as his face got close to mine. “I was busy.” I said, lifting up my book slightly. “You done with that? I need to put a new book on the shelve soon. It bugs me that there’s an empty spot.” Taeyong shivered as he mentioned that, making me chuckle softly.

“By Monday, I promise.”

“Need anything to drink? You look worn out.” Taeyong eyed me up and down. I probably looked terrible since Taeyong scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “You know I don’t drink. I mean I can, but it’s still the school term. I can’t afford getting off track by anything.”

Taeyong breathed a short laugh in response. “Ah of course. Didn’t you say you wanted to dropout just yesterday?” Taeyong looked up for a moment before bringing his eyes back down on me with a teasing gaze. My mind went back to yesterday when I texted Taeyong a long ranting paragraph about how stressed I was this week. I frowned. “Should I?”

Taeyong bobbed his shoulder. “It’s up to you. But I sincerely think you should. I mean look at you.” He added a light scoff at the end, his hand going up and down in front of me. “I’m just worried.” He proceeded to shift his weight form one leg to the other, sliding his fingers into the pocket of his pants. I felt his sense of sincerity, invariably imbued. Another reason why I fell for him. He’s always caring, too caring for his own good, especially towards me.

“Will think about it.” I mumbled, taking note of my book’s page number since I was too lazy to fold it before closing and shoving it back into my tote bag. “Anyways, when are you getting off work?”

Taeyong turned around to grab something. I realised it was his wallet and phone as he shoved the wallet into his back pocket and kept his phone in his hand. “Right now.” He flashed his smile. The signature smile. One he has on ninety percent of the time, at least around me. It was unique. A smile that only suited him and not anyone else. He owned it . Like he should. Yet another reason why I fell for him.

I got off the stool as he went around the counter that had the space in between for staffs to pass through. “Want me to drive?” He asked as we made our way to the door. I shook my head. “You had a long day. Just go home.” I kindly rejected. I bowed my head as he opened the door for me. A gentleman; adding onto the long list.

“You had an even longer one. I don’t care. It’s late too. I can’t let you walk home alone.” I laughed weakly, waiting for him outside as he closed the door. As we make our way to Taeyong’s car, he whispered, “Sleep straight when you get home, okay?” He opened the car door for me. I nodded, “Yes father.” I dragged on.

The car ride home was silent. Completely silent. There wasn’t even music playing in the background. I had my eyes fixed on the view out of the window, too scared to look at Taeyong as I can’t bare to look at him long enough before I melt on sight.

My apartment came to view after the many trees and street lights we drove past. The car pulled to a halt and I turned to Taeyong, who was suddenly up close to me, one hand looming over my chest as he reached for the seatbelt. I possibly stopped breathing. His eyes looked into mine, expressionless. I couldn’t even blink I was that shocked. “Sorry. I thought you were sleeping.”

Taeyong pulled back to his seat. I exhaled sharply. I looked to the seatbelt. He didn’t unbuckle it. I huffed quietly and did it myself, sliding my tote bag onto my shoulder. “Remember. Sleep right away.” He advised a second time as I make my way out of the car, slamming the car door shut.

Before I turned around, he rolled down the window, leaning forward slightly. “And my book!” He shouted. I placed two fingers up my head and pointed it back at it as a way to say, “Yes sir.” Before swirling around and walking away, his car’s engine starting up and driving away. The noise was quick to get muffled and go away as he drove further out of the neighborhood.

The hours of studying I had to do at home went by quick. Before I even knew it, I didn’t sleep that night at all. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to Taeyong. I had assignments to complete by Monday for God’s sake. I’ve come to terms with the fact that the number of times I’ve pulled all-nighters are now inhumane.

I checked the time on my clock. 5:05AM. I sighed, looking across my study table that’s pilled with worksheets and my opened laptop. I nodded my head as I made the mental decision of finally cleaning up as I rechecked to see if I’ve left any work undone before beginning to stack the papers and shoving them into my tote bag. The only thing left on the table was a stack of decorative papers, with beautiful outlines of red roses around the edges.

I slid one paper off the stack, placing it in front of me. I grabbed a random pen from my organiser, clicking it as I swirled it around, trying to figure out what to write.

Hey taeyong. This is my 127th love letter, confession letter, whatever you would call it. I’m not sure if you’ve read any of them. My last note was in ‘It Ends with Us’. I find that you aren’t giving any reaction or anything. I know you don’t read the books but do you even bother flipping through its pages for the letter to fall out? I’m still hoping you’d at least open this one. Please. I’ve been waiting for ages. For you. I like you, Lee Taeyong, for the 127th time.

I placed my pen back to where it belonged before holding the note in my hand, lifting it up to my face. I bit my bottom lip before opening my book, randomly opening a page and placing the note in, making sure it’s secured before putting that into my tote bag as well. Too lazy to even get into my bed, I fell asleep uncomfortably at the table.

It was now Sunday. I almost forgot the fact that I’m meeting Taeyong today to pass him the book, which to be honest, I didn’t finish. The book was boring. It was like those books that you force yourself through so you wouldn’t feel the regret of buying it. Though I used Taeyong’s money, I still felt bad for leaving it unread. I wasn’t like Taeyong at least.

While thumbing through my closet to find something to wear after showering, my eyes stopped at the sweater that Taeyong borrowed me not too long ago because I was dumb enough to meet him at two in the morning without a jacket. I was frozen stiff due to the cold.

Absentmindedly, I took it off its hanger and brought it close to my chest, dipping my head down as I deeply inhaled, Taeyong’s scent was still on there. I put it on and continued getting ready.

Just when I was done placing my valuables in my sling bag, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the mailman, I rushed to the door with immense speed. I opened the door forcefully. But instead of the mailman, I was met with Taeyong standing in front of me. We locked eyes for a split second, which made my heart leap. I then eyed him up and down. He was wearing his usual all black outfit. Shirt, jeans, and boots. I liked how the plain and simple outfit was able to cup his body well, accentuate all his body features. It always made me swoon for him.

“What are you doing here?” I noticed how Taeyong kept eyeing his sweater that’s on me despite his attempts at trying to remain eye contact with me. “I thought of just letting you give me the book now and spend the day here. Can I?” No wonder he wore a regular outfit.

“So I dressed up for nothing?” I feigned my exasperation, folding my arms as I cocked an eyebrow, huffing ever so softly. Taeyong followed my poster one on one. “And wearing my sweater is called dressing up? How lovely.” It was now his turn to fire back, which made me frown. “Whatever.” I gave in, turning around to head back to my room.

I heard the door closing as Taeyong’s footsteps were quick to follow closely behind, maybe due to the large steps he took with his long legs. As I entered my room, Taeyong lets out a hum of satisfaction. “Your shelve’s looking good. More full than last time.” He complimented. I took a seat at the study table as he made his way to seat at the edge of my bed. “Mhm.” I softly answered.

With the remembrance of what he came here for, I grabbed my tote bag and fished out for the book. I then toss it onto the bed beside Taeyong, not speaking a word as I jerked my head to it. “Thanks. You read fast.” Taeyong held the book in his hand. Open it, open it. Oh God why can’t he just find the damn note I placed there?

“No I don’t. It’s just that the book was extremely boring for my liking.” I stated, matter-of-factly. Taeyong examined the book, quickly turning it over to read the synopsis. “Ew.” He mumbled.

“It was only good at first. The ending sucked.” I added on to my complains. “By the way...” Taeyong trailed on. I wonder what he wanted to ask. Was it something about the book? About the notes?

“I’ve been thinking I should read one of the books.” I folded my arms with arrogance, slouching into the chair as I tilted my head, the side of my lip lifted up slightly. “So after more than four years I was able to reel you in to read your first book?” I questioned, sounding smug.

Taeyong let out an annoyed ‘tsk’. “I find ‘If I never met you’ interesting, okay? Let me be.” Taeyong pouted and folded his arms, turning his head away from my direction. I stood up, walking to the bed and plopping myself down which made the two of us bounce up and down of a moment. “It’s cute how you’re a newbie to reading.” I made up an excuse when really what I found cute was how Taeyong acted. It made me blush a bright pink. It was probably extremely noticeable when Taeyong suddenly mentioned, “Did I make you so proud that you’re now blushing?” Taeyong teased, a giggle following after.

“Oh shut up.”

Lee Taeyong. This is the 128th letter. I still remember the first one I wrote. Feeling so hopeful and acting like a little girl that’s too shy to confess up front. I’m still like that. Yet to physically hint at you about my feelings. I can only express them like this, through notes that could all end up being meaningless if you’ve never looked at them. I’ll come by your house today. I’ll probably slide it in between books instead of pages. I long for your love, the kind that’s much more than that of a friend. I’ve been holding on for so long. Perhaps too long. But it’s okay, you’re Lee Taeyong. I won’t let the feelings I’ve bottled up for years go to waste. I’ll do something... soon. Yes, soon.

Later that day, I made my way to Taeyong’s house. I asked him to stay at home so that I could surprise him by coming over. But the reaction that I expected from him was way too predictable.

“You could’ve just told me to pick you up!” Taeyong whined. There he goes again being way too caring. Stop it. It’s hurting me.

“It’s not that troubling to travel, Yong. Calm the heck down! It’s really nothing.” I shouted back, reassurance being imbued into each word. He made way for me to enter. And as I did, I walked slowly, long strides to the living room where the large bookshelf was placed. The one that covered the entire wall. Well, almost, since he made space for the television. Other than that, it was just books surrounding it.

“Wait.” I turned around sharply. I realised that my sudden action made Taeyong stop in his tracks instantly. But he was close to me. Way too close for my own good. We stayed there for a moment, exchanging blank stares while I took the time to remember this moment; my heart stopping, his tall figure looming over me, his eyes looking into mine as if he’s trapping me in his gaze. Moments like these happen often. And I’d often take the time to remember them, shoving them into a mental folder called ‘Head over heels for TY’.

“Sit down. I’ll... get the cheesecake.” Taeyong was the first to back out, taking a step away from me and chuckling awkwardly. He quickly turned away after avoiding my eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. He looked nervous. But why? If I have seen it correctly, it looked like his cheeks were ever so slightly red as well. What even...

I shook my head vigorously, throwing those thoughts out of my mind. I sat down on the brown leather couch, leaning back and allowing my body to sink into it. Somehow, the thoughts crept back in. I thought about how what I observed just now could not have been real. It’s Lee Taeyong. Hundreds of girls are always hitting on him at the bar during his shift. He might even be seeing someone. Wait why am I even saying that to myself? I’d end up feeling jealous with no real reason. Great, you’re a dumb one indeed.

I felt Taeyong’s weight beside me. I looked up from the table, realising now that I was in a trance of my own thoughts, and to the cheesecake that he placed down. He leaned forward to cut a slice, placing it on a small plate as he placed the fork down beside it and handed it to me. “Here. Bought it especially for your brain recovery, and cravings. You’re period came, right?”

My eyes widened. My brows furrowed and got closer to each other as I backed my head away in surprise. “How’d you even know?” I asked shockingly. Taeyong lets out a chuckle, bringing his plate up and taking a bite. “I know you long enough to know that your period’s consistent and is usual around this time. But I was just taking my chances. I know you’d still eat the cheesecake either way.” Taeyong flashed a cheeky smile.

I knew he was extremely considerate towards me. He’d always advise me to take breaks, giving me a shoulder to lean on when I need rest, coming over to comfort me till sunrise whenever I texted him a ‘feel depressed lmao.’ He’s always on standby, ready to assist me when I need him, for whatever reason. Even if he wasn’t there, he was somehow able to choreograph his silent dance of support. But I never knew he was this meticulous to take note of my habits, my favourite food and even my period. He knew everything about me at the back of his hand. He really does make me feel some type of way. Perhaps a feeling far beyond love. An unknown feeling that only I could experience since it’s Taeyong. It’s always him. Always have been, and always will be.

I grabbed a big bite, scooping it in my mouth and moaning out dreamily, letting myself sink into the cheesecake and its flavours like a bath. “Fuck this is good. Where’d you get it?” I questioned with immense curiosity. I was genuinely curious. Because I’d love to get more.

Taeyong raised both his brows, his lips forming a thin line as he gave a slightly awkward or nervous cheeky smile. I couldn’t quite tell. “I made it.” He whispered. “No way!” I instantly take another bite, this time with Taeyong in mind. I mean, he already was from the moment he gave me the plate, but with now knowing that he was the one that made it? It suddenly tasted a thousand times better.

“Fucking bake more! Why haven’t I known that you can bake?!” I screamed with excitement. I finished the first slice, now on my way to tackle a second. Taeyong laughed hilariously at my reaction. “Is it that good? It’s my first time trying the recipe.”

“I know you cook like you’ve cooked for me many times but what the heck you should to do this more often. I’d eat it whole.” I squealed as I savoured the cheesecake’s flavours.

“If it’s for you then I’d gladly do it.”

Once again I felt the kindness and love through his voice and tone that’s ever so sweet and gentle. I’d imagine that this was how angels sounded like. Taeyong has always been able to put me at instant peace with just his words alone. Be it through the phone or in person. I always felt calm and protected.

It amazed me just what love could do to you. Everything they do now seemed perfect and beautiful, you blind yourself with their beauty and everything that’s good in them. In Taeyong’s case, I’ve never seen the bad side of him, shockingly enough. I’ve been friends with him for more than five years yet there wasn’t any argument between us that made a major impact on our relationship, if you don’t count those when I wouldn’t talk to him for only one day but we’d be able to act normal after.

We ended up spending the evening watching Netflix. We’ve been through two movies now. The cheesecake was now fully finished as well, down to its crumbs. “Want me to cook dinner?”

“I’m fine with anything.” I blinked my eyes once and a soft smile appeared on my lips. Taeyong hummed softly and nodded his head as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of his slippers can be heard as he shuffled away.

I laid down on the couch, using my phone. A thought suddenly popped in my mind. I instantly peeked my head above the back rest, seeing Taeyong’s back in view as his body swayed slowly by the stove. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He ran a hand through his hair. How can a man look this... amazing. I can’t think of any other ways to describe Taeyong at that moment. Boyfriend material? Stunning? Breathtaking? All of the above.

As much as I wanted to stare at his figure, I had another agenda I had to accomplish before getting back to it. I rose from the couch, slowly and quietly, taking the note out of my sling bag. I walked up to the overwhelmingly large bookshelf. I scanned it carefully, trying to figure out where to place it.

“What are you doing?” I turned instantly at Taeyong’s voice. He was a few steps away from me, two plates of pasta in his hands. He turned around to place them on the table.

I took this chance to quickly slide the note into the shelve. One edge of the note was sticking out. Shit. It wasn’t obvious but it’s still there. I didn’t have any time to adjust it when Taeyong faced his body back to me.

“Just looking. The fact that I’ve read all these books... I’m such a bookworm for reading this much.”

“That’s what I like about you.” I was eyeing the pasta when Taeyong blurted that out. It was quick and soft, I couldn’t make out the words. I could only infer. “What?” I asked purposely, just to see if he’ll answer.

“It’s nothing.” Taeyong shoved a spoonful of pasta into his mouth, adverting his gaze on anything else but me.

I thought about how weird he was acting. It’s the first time I’m noticing that Taeyong’s been acting... wary, cautious of his every move around me. Just as I thought about how he’s clueless and delusional about my feelings for him, it could have been the same for me.

Luckily (Thank the Gods kind of lucky), classes ended early today. And Taeyong told me to meet him at his dance studio. For what reason? I wasn’t actually sure. I headed there, passing by the many other practice rooms till I saw the number that Taeyong told me. I opened the door, seeing Taeyong and two other guys I’m unfamiliar with. All of them turned their heads to me in unison, Taeyong blinding me with a bright smile while the others looked to each other with confusion.

“You came!” Taeyong squealed, running up to me and hugging my tightly. He was extremely sweating. I would try to push him away, but he probably wouldn’t let go and let me suffocate. Thankfully, he didn’t and pulled away, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the other two guys.

“Ten, Mark. This is my friend, _____. I wanted her to come so that we’ll have an audience to show our piece.” Taeyong explained to them freely as he pointed to Ten and Mark respectively, an arm swung around my shoulders. I bowed my head amicably with a smile while they did the same. “You never told me you have a girlfriend, Taeyong.” Ten teased, lightly punching Taeyong’s chest. I couldn’t help but blush a light pink. I swallowed and looked up to him, who had a nervous and shy face on, which I didn’t expect at all.

“We’re best friends, please.” Taeyong denied, no hesitation whatsoever. In my head I wanted to frown but I had to keep a smile on.

“Hey, Ten. Wanna get Starbucks?” Mark suddenly asked, looking at him with a wicked grin as if he’s hinting to Ten about something. Ten was quick to respond, nodding his head with affirmation. “Yeah. I’m thirsty. You should just stay here with her. Need js to get anything?” Ten trailed on while the two of them began to take their wallets out of their bags that were at the back of the practice room.

“You guys are really going all the way to Starbucks that’s a fifteen minute walk from here?” Taeyong asked, extremely shocked. I did walk past Starbucks on my way here, and it is indeed extremely far. What the heck were they trying to do by leaving so abruptly?

“Eh it’s fine. Well we’ll leave you to it! Peace!” And just like that, Ten and Mark have left and it was now just me and Taeyong. The two of us turned to each other and chuckled at the same time. “Come on show me your dance!”

“It’s a duet that I’m doing with Ten. Can’t dance if he’s not here.” I looked up for a moment, thinking. “Dancer by day. Bartender by night. That’s Lee Taeyong.” I spread my hands out with jiggling my fingers as if showing a rainbow and mimicking stars. Taeyong laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Broke university student by day, author by night. That’s _____.”

I looked at him weirdly, eyes narrowing at him as I furrowed my brows. “How am I an author?”

“Eh I just assume you’re one since you’re such a bookworm.” Taeyong fakely rolled his eyes but flashed a cheeky smile after. I smiled back and got closed to him, both hand resting on my hips as I rested my weight on one leg. “So what are we gonna do mister dancer?” I asked with the tone of a child, making me laugh after from how ridiculous I sounded.

Taeyong proceeded to take my tote bag off my shoulder, putting it off to the side with the other bags while he grabbed his phone and went to Spotify. “Let’s dance.” He suggested with confidence. He played a song. It’s one of my favourites. A song that didn’t make me think twice to bob my head to, which I instantly did. “I haven’t danced in years and you know that.”

Specifically, it was six years ago. I used to dance in highschool as extra curricular thing. But in college I started to dance less frequently, and my dance friends and I slowly grew distant. But I was okay with it. I mean, it’s life. The world still had to spin no matter the situation.

“Come on I know you have it in you. Just vibe.” Taeyong swayed his shoulders up and down slowly, grooving to the beat as his whole body began to work its magic, his dancing was at the level of professional ones. I never know why he didn’t want to pursue dance as a career and became a bartender instead.

I slowly moved my body in a weird way. Not dancing for years, your body is bound to be uncomfortable and you’d be looking weird as you move. Which was definitely me. Taeyong laughed at me, making me frown and stopped dancing. He huffed with a smile and held both my hands. Instantly, my legs and body moved in sync with his. It felt amazing dancing with Taeyong. It was fun and carefree. I could dance as stupidly as I want and even though Taeyong could pull off the best dance moves, he’d still choose to dance stupidly along with me. He was able to serve himself as a guidance as I found my groove and vibe that I didn’t have in me for a long time.

When the music stopped, Taeyong’s hands where on my waist, while I had mine on his arms. We turned to the mirror and giggled, throwing out heads back happily.

“You still got it.”

“Make sure to find the ones with pretty spines.”

Taeyong and I decided to head to bookstores today for our monthly book shopping. And while I was carefully reading the synopsis of books that had an interesting title, Taeyong was busy examining their cover pages and the aesthetics, mostly the spine.

“Have you started on the book you told me about?” I asked, flipping the book I just took out to its first chapter to get a feel of the writer’s writing style. “I have, actually.” My head shot to him instantly. He’s read the book. But I remembered putting the note in the back pages of the book. Has he reached there yet? “But I’m a slow reader. And busy. I’m only at the third chapter.”

As much as I was surprised about the fact that he’s speed in reading was extremely slower than what I would consider normal, I couldn’t blame him. He’s body with work most of the time and he has a life to live. Not to mention how it’s the first book he’s actually reading. This is a good example that the gap in terms of our reading abilities are definitely big.

“Liking it so far?” I asked. “Yeah.” Taeyong simply replied as he took a book off the display. “I’m getting this. And these as well.” He giggled like a happy child who’s buying a bunch of toys as birthday present from his parents. He lifted the books up slightly, fiddling around and trying to stack them properly while I closed the book that was in my hands. “I’m just buying this.”

“Seriously? Oh wait nevermind you’re a broke university student.” Taeyong taunted, rolling his eyes. My mouth opened slightly, faking my exasperated as I huffed loudly. “Okay mister bartender. You didn’t have to rub-”

“Oh my God. Taeyong?!”

In unison, the two of us turned around to the noise. A girl was running up to us. The moment she came, she didn’t hesitate to hug Taeyong around his torso. Taeyong chuckled, almost awkwardly and hugged her back.

I took a quick look at them. Their hug made a few things clear to me. One, she’s probably known him for a long time. But if she has, why didn’t Taeyong told me about her before? He shares all his secrets, I pretty much know him from A to Z. So why hasn’t he mention her before? Second, Taeyong was quick to reciprocate the hug, from his awkward form to a loving one. They looked like a couple that hasn’t seen each other in ages; a meaningful reunion.

I wasn’t exactly happy with where this was going. I didn’t like how in an instant, she could simply let herself be in such close proximity with him. I’ve never hugged Taeyong for that long at all. It made me feel a couple of things. Jealousy? Judgmental? Sudden hatred towards her? But why should I? It felt so invalid of me to feel these things.

“It’s been years, Taeyong.” She chuckled happily as they pulled apart. Finally. “Who’s she?” Her finger lifted up to me.

“A friend.” Taeyong answered. Of course, Why did I think I’d be any more than that? Just a friend. We’re just friends. Just.

While they were having a chat about who knows what, I wasn’t exactly paying attention since I simply assumed that it was to catch up with each other. I wondered off to another section of the store. After browsing through a few books, it was then I realised that they weren’t no longer in the store anymore when I got back. They left, Taeyong left. Without telling me. It was my fault for leaving the scene discreetly since I felt like my presence wasn’t needed in their bubble at the time, but why did Taeyong not come find me? Was I... simply forgotten?

I went straight home that day after cashing out the books. I didn’t know where Taeyong went after leaving that that girl, but I didn’t want to act like some busybody who asks something that isn’t her business. I got texts from Taeyong asking if I left yet. Was he planning on returning there after leaving for two hours? He actually expected me to wait. Unbelievable.

After that day, my meetups with him became less frequent. He occasionally replied to my texts. More like one sentence after four or so hours. He still updates his socials. And it was all about her. Photos, videos. They were hanging out together more often. For some reason, it felt like she was a replacement; my replacement. I somewhat distanced myself away from Taeyong thinking, “I assume you don’t need me anymore so I’ll stay out of your way.”

But one day, out of pure curiosity, I decided to follow them to a cafe. Taeyong did text me that he’d be heading there, but I left him on seen. Like I said, I’m slowly removing myself out of his picture.

I sat at the corner of the cafe, black jacket, black cap and large black sunglasses. I looked like a stalker in the eyes of strangers. I mean, I was.

I covered myself further by holding up a book to my face. As I continuously stared at them, I grew bored. Don’t get me wrong, I was feeling negative. I didn’t like how she’s teasingly touching Taeyong’s arm, how they laughed happily together and chatting as if they’re in their own little world. But I started to wonder why I even came here. I did want to see what they’re like. But I’m making myself feel more bad this way.

I decided to write a note. I was done with the book I’m currently holding. All I needed to do was give it to Taeyong. With the note. I took out a random piece of paper from my tote bag, fishing out for a pen as well and began to write.

It’s my 145th letter. Fuck how long am I going to do this? Might sound weird, but I’m currently looking at you. Watching you with her. Why does it feel like you’re happier with her? You’re smiling, laughing more. You’re more brighter. I mean you have always been bright. But you just... radiate differently; a new type of glow I never knew you had. I saw your socials, constantly posting about her. I’m jealous, very. I want to be like that with you. But it just feels wrong, perhaps not right. Like I shouldn’t be craving for you. For your touch, your whispers, giggles. Why do I feel like this? The more you spend time with her, the more I realise that my chances of getting you is slowly slipping away from my grasp. But why can’t I move? Why don’t I want to move? I’m not sure what’s stopping me. And that’s what I’m fearing the most.

I felt my cheeks getting wet. It took me awhile to realise that I was balling my eyes out, slowly and painfully. I took off my sunglasses for a moment to wipe off excess tears before putting them back on. I can’t belive I’m crying. I looked down to the note. A tear fell onto it, a spot crinkled as it left a visible mark of my feelings. Just as I was sniffing, constantly having to wipe my cheeks dry since my tears were getting uncontrollable, I looked out the window. And what stood on the opposite side shocked me.

I knocked on the glass, his head turning quickly. He looked around inside the cafe, not sure of where the signal came from. I knocked once again. He looked down on me and I took off my sunglasses, pulling down my hood.

“Nakamoto Yuta?” I mouthed to him, my lips moving widely so he could read them. His eyes blinked rapidly and he leaned in before widening them after realising who I was. We take a few of the same classes. I see him often in school. But we never really talked. He immediately rushed into the cafe, covering his face as if hiding his identity and running up to my table to take a seat.

“Why were you looking in like some stalker?” I asked, pulling my hood back over my head as I lowered myself, my eyes still fixated on Taeyong.

“You look more like one than I do.” Yuta commented. I notice how he was constantly turning around, specifically to Taeyong’s direction. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m looking at them.” He pointed his finger out ever so slightly. And as I predicted, he was referring to Taeyong and the girl. “You know Taeyong?” I immediately asked, extremely curious as to why he was spying on them just like I was. “No, but I know Jiung.” So that’s her name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Of course.

“And why are you doing that exactly?” Yuta let out a huff, leaning in with his elbows on the table, his shoulder rising up to his ears. “Because I want to see what they’re on about. I keep seeing her with that Taeyong guy. I like Jiung so I’m jealous.” I puckered my lips and nodded. My face showed as if I shrugged it off. But my mind began turning its gears. So he likes Jiung and he’s jealous of them together? He has the same reason of me coming here as well. What forces swirled around the world for us to come together like this? It’s weird how coincidentally the situation was.

“I actually came for the same reason as you. I like Taeyong, and I’m jealous of Jiung.” I frowned slightly, a sigh leaving my lips. I opened up to him quick about my situation since I felt a sense of similarity with him. He probably wouldn’t remember anyways. It’s not like we’ll be crossing paths in the future.

“Were you crying? Your eyes are hella puffy.” He asked suddenly. I breathed out a laugh awkwardly. I gulped and cleared my throat, thinking that I should shove all my feeling down so I wouldn’t look even more ridiculous in front of Yuta. “Yeah.” I quickly slid the note in between a random page.

“Funny how we met here. For the same reasons. It’s like fate.” I couldn’t agree more. “An idea just came to my mind.” Oh no.

Yuta has always been the class clown, saying out his ideas that were completely mind blowing and far fetched. His way of thinking is... unique, in a funny way. I got somewhat nervous after he said that sentence, you can never guess what he’s thinking about or get a clear grasp of the way he thinks.

“How about we try splitting them up?” I didn’t reply, his words slowly resonating in my mind. He can’t be serious, right? But why am I slowly being persuade by an unknown force?

I have yet to say a word, my eyes still on them as I was deep in thought, wondering about all the possible outcomes of me agreeing and disagreeing, weighing them carefully so that I could make the more beneficial decision.

“Come on. You’ll get to be with Taeyong more. And I’ll have Jiung. Win-win situation, right?”

I sighed, inhaling as my chest puffs up.

“Alright.”

Yuta: How’s it going?

Me: amazingg :D

“Who are you texting?” Taeyong asked, I placed my phone down to the side, screen faced down. “No one.”

This is the sixteenth outing with Taeyong after that day. I was able to spend time with Taeyong a lot more, just like before. And probably just like it should. I’ve seen Yuta posting more often on his Instagram stories, mostly of him and Jiung. Our plan of keeping them apart is working. Though Yuta told me that it was Jiung who’s constantly asking to meet up with Taeyong, he was able to force her to hang out with him instead, giving her no chance whatsoever. It was extremely helpful.

I know this whole situation sounds as if I’m being evil or whatever you call it. But why wouldn’t I accept a chance to be closer to Taeyong?

“Should we head to the carnival after this? Or desserts first? Oh I want to head to that new ice cream shop! Ten said it’s delicious but extremely crowded. I don’t mind waiting since I’ll have you to annoy.” Taeyong rambled on. I laughed happily, taking in this moment. I want to treasure such simple moments like these. I want it to be in a snow globe; something remembered forever.

“Do anything you please, Yong.” I chuckled, flashing an eye smile.

Just then, the bell above the restaurant’s door opened, signalling a new costumer coming in. Taeyong widened his eyes at the door. I tilted my head at his weird action, turning around to see just what made him react that way.

“Jiung?” “Yuta?” The two of us whispered at the same time.

Jiung’s eyes immediately went to Taeyong, her face lighting up at the sight of him as she tried to make her way over. But Yuta stopped her by the shoulders. I now understood what Yuta meant by saying, “She’s so attracted to him.”

While Jiung was struggling to eacape Yuta’s strong grasp, Taeyong was halfway off his seat. I immediately reached a hand to place on his arm. “Where you going?” I asked, faking a smile when in reality I was getting nervous.

“Wanting to say hi to Jiung.” Taeyong was about to alide himself off his seat so I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him in the most natural way possible. “I don’t think you should. She seems busy.” I tugged on his arm slightly, an attempt to get him to sit back down. “But it looks like she’s struggling. I- Wait here.” Taeyong noticed how I was trying so hard to stop him from leaving. He raised a brow and shook my hand off in an instant, his strength powering over my desires.

I followed behind him. Taeyong forcefully removed Yuta away from Jiung and Yuta’s eyes immediately glanced to mine. Both of us sending nervous signals to each other in that split second. “What the hell were you doing to her?” Taeyong growled lowly, his voice and tone suddenly growing dark as he held Jiing’s wrist, his body standing in front of hers as if he’s protecting her.

“I was just getting her out of the restaurant since it’s quite packed.” Yuta awkwardly replied with an excuse. “No you were purposely stopping me from going to Taeyong.” Jiung fought back. I stood there frozen, watching by the sidelines as nervousness started rising in me. Are they going to find out about my plan with Yuta?

“I think it’s just a misunderstanding. You two can go now.” I ripped Taeyong’s tight hold around Jiung’s wrist, dragging him back to stand beisde me. “I just want to chat with Taey-”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Move along now.” I tried to shove Yuta and Jiung out the door. Taeyong’s hand suddenly gripped onto mine. I looked up instantly.

“Pause. You’re very acting weird. What’s going on?” Taeyong’s voice was raised higher than before. A few people were staring at us. “Nothing...” I whispered, looking down. I was now scared to the bone. I didn’t know what to reply, how to cover it up. It’s gonna have to slip out eventually. At least I was able to be with Taeyong more often.

“Yuta and I planned for you guys to never meet again.” That’s it. It’s all over. With that simple line of confession, the truth was now out. No where left to hide or run. Yuta smacked me on the arm, making me wince. “What the heck?!” He half-shouted in a whisper.

“Are you serious? And for what? Jealous or something?” Taeyong was mad. So mad. And I felt it. I was so scared. I was shivering with every word he said. I gulped, avoiding eye contact with him. I didn’t need to give a reply. My body has said it all. A moment of silence filled with tension circled around us. Suddenly, Taeyong stormed out.

I panicked, immediately going back to the table we were at to grab my belongings and rushed out, wanting to stop Taeyong. I looked around frantically. I spotted him walking down the street on the left. I ran as fast as I could, my hand reaching out for him as I shouted his name countless of times, but he doesn’t respond as if he was deaf.

“Taeyong, please!” I cried out. I finally had his wrist tightly around my fingers. He turned around sharply. He tried to walk away, but I tried harder to grip onto the hem of his sweater tighter. “What?”

I realised at that very moment that I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to stop him, but I never thought of what to do afterwards. I wanted to say “Don’t leave.” But it never left my lips.

I stood there silently, my thumb caressing against the cloth as I bit my lip hard. “Hello?” Taeyong asked, annoyed. That one simple word hit me, right on the heart. It was like an arrow, painfully accurate at where its being shot. Just as how one word from him could light up my day, and one word from him can make it come crashing down as well. His change in tone and mood was quick and intense. I couldn’t stop thinking about being terrified.

I eventually took in a deep breath, opening my tote bag and taking out the book that I have forgotten to give him that day while I was spying on him.

“Here. Have it, as a present.” I brushed a hand down the back of my head, my fingers combing through the ends as I turned around and walked away in the opposite direction after shoving the book to Taeyong’s chest, remembering the note was somewhere in there but I never bothered knowing exactly where.

My breathing started to become unstable. The further I walked away, the urge of falling down to the ground and collapsing became stronger. But I continued walking, telling myself to stay strong the whole way till I reach home. “You can cry on the floor all you want. Just quickly get home now.” I kept whispering to myself, begging my legs to speed up but my wobbly knees were not helping.

I cried that night. Very hard. The whole scene of kept replaying like a movie tape. All I could think about was how mad Taeyong looked. With his voice and eyes. It was a look I’ve never seen on him before. It was like a completely new side of him. The entire opposite of what he usually was. I now realised that he’s one of those “Their all butterflies and rainbows till they get pissed off.” That phrase cannot be any more true in regards to Taeyong.

Every day I tried to meet Taeyong. At the bar, his home, the bookstore. Anywhere he could be. He wasn’t replying to my texts, or calls. He probably blocked me. And on his socials as well. He wasn’t responding to me at all. I got worried sick. Is he never going to talk to me ever again?

Constantly, I mentally slammed my head against an imaginary wall, thinking about how I never thought of this outcome while weighing out the possible aftermath of the decision I made. How could I be so stupid, so reckless?

I eventually gave up trying to get in contact with him. He needed time and space away from me, completely. The hole this made in my heart was deep, like a dried up well with vines that has sharp long thorns growing in them. And every time I thought about Taeyong, I am constantly being pierced by those thorns of regret and agony, pricking deeper into my skin the more I fell deeper.

It was choking me; Taeyong’s absence. I couldn’t breathe at all. I was sinking, gasping for air each time I longed for him. I just wanted him back. I wanted things to get back to normal. I wanted to be us again.

Two months have passed. It was the worst two months of my life. Worst than the exam stress I had for last year’s final project. I had university to worry about on top of Taeyong. I was mentally going through hell. And again, the worst one yet. And it was now that I realised, I’d be much better off having him as a friend than anything less. But I was selfish enough to not treasure it that way, and it’s now finally gone. Completely out of my reach.

One night, I was up. Doing assignments. Nothing’s new. Nothing’s changed. Taeyong has yet to open up to me. I glanced at the clock on my phone, groaning as I let my head fall on the table. I closed my eyes. I was too stressed. The world’s spinning too fast. I needed it to stop for awhile. My brain can’t bear this much.

As if on cue, the door bell rang while I lifted my head off the table. My head slowly turned to my room door. The bell rang again. A few seconds later, it rang yet again. Whoever’s outside was frustrated or something, jamming their fingers on the bell while saying “I’ll keep annoying you till you open this damn door.”

I pushed my chair back and walked over to the door. I looked through the peek hole. Taeyong...? I opened the door. On instinct, I grabbed him by his waist while his body fell on me. His face tilted up to meet mine. His cheeks were flushed red. His eyes were half opened and looking around as if stars are swirling above his head. He’s drunk.

“Good night. I wanna go in.” Taeyong whispered. Yup, he’s drunk. His breath reeked or alcohol as he spoke. I stood there for a moment, needing to process the current situation. At three in the morning, Taeyong showed up here drunk. I can think about why later. But now I had to figure out a way to carry his heavy body into the living room.

Taeyong wrapped his arms around my waist, sticking his body against mine. “You’re so warm.” I blinked rapidly. I looked down on him. I can’t believe it. He’s here. After two months of ignoring, he can simply show up here. Drunk, even. Worst of all, I still had the love to move along with this. The anger was still there. It’s just that his sudden presence made me forget about it a little while.

Out of the blue, like a marionette on strings, he jerkily push himself off me and staggered his way to the lviing room. I followed closely behind, not bothering to turn on the lights. I didn’t feel the need to. I sat down at the edge of the couch while he laid his body down. He giggled to himself and muttered things I couldn’t understand. I know what he’s like when drunk. Unstable, crazy, a lightweight. Will not remember a single thing the next morning.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not even sure why. Why did I bother asking when he won’t remember any of this the next day? Well, he’s here now. And no matter what state he was in, I just wanted answers.

“To thank you. Me thank you. Mwah!” Taeyong puckered his lips in the end, eyes closed and shaking his head furiously. His fluffy hair moving along. I smacked my bottom lip and nodded. “For what exactly?”

“For getting rid of Jiung for me. She’s so annoying. I’d much rather be with you.” Taeyong mumbled, finger slowly pointing up to me. Unconsciously, I pointed back to myself too. “Me?” Taeyong pursed his lips into a thin line and nodded firmly. “Uhuh. Yes, right. Mhm.”

I kept silent for a moment. “That wasn’t really what I got from how you reacted two months ago.” Suddenly, Taeyong forcefully gripped onto my wrist, pulling me down. I let out a soft gasp, realising that my body was laying on top of his. We stared at each other for a long while, the close proximity making it so that I could feel his cold breath on my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I breathed heavily as I felt my face getting hot. Stop it. Why are you falling for him too quickly?

“Go home, Taeyong.” I whispered so softly in a calming and light tone. Taeyong whined in response. He was now pouting with his big boba eyes. He looked like a sad puppy. My heart instantly melted at the sight. I couldn’t resist. “I’m staying here.” He said in a high pitch voice, hugging me closer and putting me in an uncomfortable position for my body. Regardless, I stayed.

After two months he was finally here, and in my arms. This night might not mean anything to him but it made me feel relived. The fact that he remembered my house, my name, me. Whether it was just the alcohol driving him to do such things that are out of his control, I didn’t mind. All I needed was for him to be here. It felt good to be with him for that one night. Just one night was all I needed. It didn’t stop my anger for him about the fact that he ignored me, but I was okay with it. That night, I let it go. All I wanted was to feel such peace with Taeyong.

We ended up sleeping together on the small couch. I woke up with terrible body aches but either way, I sighed in relief when I woke up before Taeyong. I tried finding his phone, that was hidden under the crack of the cushions. I typed in his password. I memorise it like how he memorise mine. I went to his contacts and called the one person I knew.

“I have a favour to ask, Ten.” I said nervously as I watch him carry Taeyong into his car. He hummed, pulling his head out of the car and slamming the door. “Don’t tell him he went here.” Ten gave a half-shrug, nodding his head in response. “Sure. I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but it seems like a lot. Should solve it soon.”

“Yeah... I hope so.”

16th October.

I’ve lost count on the number of love letters I’ve given you. I can’t give them to you anymore, since you don’t even want anything to do with me. I can’t blame you. I knew you’d be pissed. I was hesitant on doing it but I was so selfish, wanting you all to myself. But what can I do, Taeyong? I’ve wanted you for so long. Yet you’re so delusional of my feelings. How could you have not read any of of my letters? Perhaps you have and chose to ignore it. That’s more painful than you being upfront and rejecting me. As much as I allow you to hate on me, I’d still say this. Fuck you, Lee Taeyong.

23rd October.

I saw you at the bar. You look... happy. Without me. You act as if nothing happened. Like I never happened. I wonder if you’re just putting on an act, or are you actually okay without me by your side. Are you still mad? Did you forget about it but have gotten use to not being with me? I want to know Taeyong so please, respond. That’s all I ask from you. Fuck that. You don’t even have to talk. I just want you here with me. Whether the air around us will be filled with tension, I don’t care. What I’m going through, is not nice, Taeyong. It is punishment for my actions. But how long do I have to keep it up? How long to I have to suffer to take a breath? For you to pull me out of this mess with your forgiveness. I’m falling apart.

14th December.

Wow. It’s December already. I’m sitting at the park we go to every Christmas. We’d be freezing to death but still glued to the bench chatting about life since we just loved being out in the snow. And yet, you never got back to me. I found out from Jiung that you left the country but never said where. I miss you, Lee Taeyong. I’m tired. So tired, of constantly penning my feelings down on pieces of paper. Words I can never say to you out loud, are all in the letters in your books that you never bothered to open. I even hid one between the books of your huge ass shelf. Why haven’t you said anything about them? I know I should move on, because it really does seem like you never want to talk to me ever again. I’m losing hope, more faster than before as each day pass, wondering where the hell as you and how you’re doing. I keep telling myself “Let it be. Let him have his moment.” But I wonder if you ever think about how I’m bearing all of this as well. That without you, I might never be able to forgive myself.

I slide the notes under Taeyong’s apartment door. I knew he was out of the country. Some nights I’d sit by his door, the note in hand as I envision him in his house. I couldn’t think about what he’s doing. And I constantly ponder about it. Is he eating well? Sleeping well? Is he enjoying himself wherever he’s at? Months passed. And as time went on, I began to wonder if my letters were even worth writing. Why was I giving so much? Why am I going through such lengths, physically and emotionally, for Taeyong to be okay? Why am I bearing such emotions when it’s not even certain that I’ll be given the same in return.

I’m making a promise to myself. I’ll let go of Lee Taeyong. I’ll slowly, bit by bit, remove my feelings out of my heart. It’s not worth it, I kept telling myself. I’m meaninglessly suffering for someone who is isn’t appreciating it. So why should I go on? I loved you, Lee Taeyong. I changed my words. I loved you.

And that was the last love letter I wrote.

Along my journey to forgetting Taeyong, I suffered a lot. I was always drawn back to him. I was always willing to put my pen on paper and just write something to him. About anything. It was a bad habit that needed to stop. I had to let go years of feelings that were being pilled up in my heart. And it was something that’s extremely hard to let go. But other than my own factors, there were external, circumstantial ones as well. Whether it was coincidental or not, that was something I can never know the answer to.

I was on my laptop, casually scrolling through Pinterest to calm myself with the aesthetics of random things. Room decor, clothing ideas, handsome idols. Anything that can take my mind off my billions of overloaded projects for awhile.

I didn’t know how, but I ended up looking at quotes, Japanese ones to be exact. The deep meaning of words. Some were heartfelt while other were heartbreaking. I read them off casually till I paused at one.

‘Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.’

I scoffed to myself, pinching my temples as I shook my head. It’s just like you, Lee Taeyong. “Fucking hell.” I mumbled, slamming the laptop shut. I’ve been able to not think about Taeyong for a long time now. Or at least I felt like it was a long time. I wasn’t going to let a word get me off course. I placed my laptop on the bed and went back to my study table, suddenly feeling motivated to continue as a way to distract myself from thinking about him.

Thinking that I wouldn’t be facing that state of dilemma again, I just so happen to see a quote the first thing I entered Pinterest.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate ways.’

I was then reminded of Taeyong yet again. But I don’t think I was thinking about him as a person, but our relationship. Just our relationship. Having to part ways as a mean to reunite. That’s something I found hard to believe. Why am I having hope that it’ll happen when I highly doubt I’ll experience it? Why is my mind slowly pulling me back to the memories I have with Taeyong? I want him long gone. I want him holed up in the corner of my mind, out of sight, out of mind. But things are always popping up randomly around me, and it all reminded me of him. I feel like it’s his doing, funny enough. Constantly hinting about him with almost everything I come across.

“What the fuck?”

I looked at the Youtube home screen and what was recommended for me. One of the videos had Taeyong’s name. And his face was on the thumbnail. The title? Lee Taeyong | Freestyle dance | Paris In The Rain (Lauv) My finger moved on its own, bringing the cursor to the video and clicking on it.

As I expected, the video was taken in Paris. So that’s where he has been. He was in Paris this whole time without my notice. I was shocked to find that the video has tons of likes and view. I read through the comments. They were all swooning over Taeyong.

“Who wouldn’t?” I said to myself. I scrolled up and played the video. My eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second. I was frozen, not being able to move an inch as I watched, completely in awe. Firstly, Taeyong has his hair dyeda light ashy grey or blue. It suited him well, all too well. His dancing was immensely beautiful. Anyone would fall for him. Visuals, talent. He has it all. Dancer by day, bartender by night. He looked so free and alive in his dance. Serving the world with a hard punch with his deep emotions that were imbued perfectly into his movements.

I bit my lower lip. Fuck. I felt it. The goosebumps, the quivering of my lips. My eyes started to well up with tears. “No, this is not happening again.” The video was still playing, the music ringing in my ears but I couldn’t bear to look at the video. I was watching Taeyong, living the perfect life in Paris. What more could he needed? I clearly wasn’t in his equation. I’m completely gone, removed out of his life. No trace of my presence to be found.

The longer I think, the more I forced myself not to cry. Eventually, being weakling I am, I ended up falling deep into the harsh and intense whirl pool that is my feelings once again, a place I never visited in a long while. The feelings started dancing in my mind like butterflies flapping in unison to the soundtrack of my sadness. I could only assume that it’s what the world wants. It’s how it wants to spin, how it wants to work.

Eight months. I actually counted how long I’ve lost contact with Taeyong for. It didn’t bother me. I was trying to live a life. It’s getting better. It took a lot of baby steps. But I’m feeling a whole lot lighter now. It’s March.

I was walking back from University when my phone started vibrating in my hand since I’ve always left it on silent mode. I lifted it up. It was an unknown number. Instinctively, I chose to not pick up the call. But a few seconds later, the same number showed up on the screen. With a light groan, I picked up and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello? Who is this?” I asked formally, waiting by the traffic light. I heard the person on the other hand breathe out a chuckle, almost like a disappointed kind. “Who the-”

“So you deleted my number?” That voice... No doubt. It was Lee fucking Taeyong. “Meet me. My home. You got ten minutes.” The call ended.

Rapidly blinking my eyes, I slowly brought down the phone. I read over the number again. It was Taeyong’s phone. Why didn’t I remember it? I used to know it. It’s one of the few things I used to be able to tell off the top of my head. “Ten minutes?” I looked at the time.

I don’t know what urged me, but I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The unknown force. It was unfamiliarly familiar. If that made sense. I was able to live a life without Taeyong. I was. I was capable of it. And that’s what I did. But at the very moment, I felt the need to see him. The spontaneous out of the blue kind of feel. It was all just pouring out of me.

I stood at his doorstep, hand on my chest and other as support for my body against the wall. Panting heavily, I tried to slowly calm myself down. I gulped, and rang the doorbell. No turning back.

The door flung open. And there stood Taeyong. He still had his ashy hair colour. His face never changed a single bit. Nor did his overall physique. He was still handsome, breathtaking. “Come in.”

I sucked my lips and sidled in timidly and warily. Nothing has changed in his house as well. The large bookshelf with the television in the centre. I started to remember the love letters. All of them are hidden in the pages of the books in that very shelf. It reminded me of my feelings for him.

I sat down on the leather couch as Taeyong disappeared into the kitchen. I kept my head faced forward, placing my tote bag down, leaning it against the couch on the floor. Taeyong came back moments later. Two plates with a slice of cheesecake. He handed on to me. “Try it.” He said.

I slowly took a bite. Chewing on it, I scrunched up my nose, placing the plate down on the table. “I hate it. Tastes too artificial.” I commented dryly. Taeyong chuckled and cleared his throat. “Knew you’d say that.” Taeyong shoved a bite into his mouth, eating it as he placed the plate beside mine. “Want to know why you’re here?”

I bobbed my shoulders. This atmosphere, the air between us. It wasn’t awkward at all. Though our words were dry and short, it felt normal. It wasn’t weird being next to him after not seeing him for eight months.

Taeyong stood up, taking small steps to the shelf. As if practiced, he pulled out one letter from a book, another, and another, and another. It was never ending. It took him at least ten minutes to slide out all the letters and placing them on the table. I silently watch, my anxiety turning up a notch with each letter.

He finally took what I hoped was the last letter and went back to sit next to me. A specific letter is held in his hand. He unfolded it, placing the paper on the table and turning it so that I could read.

It was my last love letter.

“So you knew.” I whispered, looking down, leaning forward as I laced my fingers together. I took in a deep breath, my eyes scanning down the note before turning my head to Taeyong. “Then why the fuck didn’t you do anything about it?”

Taeyong lifted the paper off the table, holding it in front of him. He reread it. Running a hand through hair, chest puffing up as he inhaled and exhaled sharply. “Because I wanted you to keep writing to me.”

“What...?” That was definitely not an answer I was expecting.

Taeyong licked his lips, smacking them before sniffling a rubbing his nose. He lets out a weak chuckle. “I liked them. From your handwriting, to your words. I felt it; your love, with each letter.” He whispered softly.

I simply couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was the explanation and truth I’ve been wanting to hear for months. This is what kept me up at night, what led me to have my mental breakdowns, the constant ‘what if’s I formulated throughout. “You just like them? Taeyong if you’re rejecting fucking do it now-” I was about to scream, but Taeyong was quick to cut me off.

“In a way it felt like you were writing a book. One just for me. That’s why I never bothered to read any other books. I just needed yours. Your... simply overpowering pain in the heart love letters.” Taeyong smiled down at the letter, hovering his fingers over the words.

“And I don’t just like the love letters. I love the author. Paris made me realise that. It took me that long. And I’m sorry for how long you needed to wait.”

“What do you love about the author?”

I could tell Taeyong was taken aback by that question. And I knew he would react that way. He still knew me well, bouncing back and giving a confident answer.

“I don’t want to sound common by saying it’s her smile, laughter, brightness. But it truly is what I love about her. All the times we’ve spent were filled with nothing but pure bliss. Serenity, is what I feel when I’m with her. Longing, like I was meant to be by her side. I’ve known her long enough to know every single detail about her, ones that maybe she doesn’t even know herself. Like how drinks two straws when she’s sad, or having the habit of twiddling her thumbs when she’s excited. Little things like those, I find them adorable. No matter what she is, a nerd, weirdo, plain crackhead, it’s... the energy, her own energy. A light and force only she could illuminate.”

I couldn’t say anything. I frozen stiff by his words. He actually meant it. I could feel it through his voice. He stuttered here and there nervously, finding words to say. But he was able to structure them in the most beautiful way possible. I had no words to say.

Suddenly, Taeyong slowly brought his hand up to cup my cheek. That one touch alone made me feel a lot of things. It was like I was hit by a huge wave of feelings all bunched up together and crashing over me. But it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. It was overwhelming, but I was calm. I was at peace. It felt good. Just this.

He slowly and carefully swiped his thumbs across my cheeks like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. His touch was lightweight and simply serene. “Another thing the author doesn’t know about herself is that she really doesn’t know when she’s crying and spilling out tears.”

I blinked my eyes, Taeyong smoothing his hands from my cheeks and to my shoulders, placing them there firmly as his eyes stared into mine. I can’t exactly explain what I felt. But it was like the stars aligned, as cliche as that sounds.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate way.’ I resonated with this now. I understood what it meant. Our months of separation were all for this exact moment. Both of us suffered, one trying to find themselves again while the other needing the time to realise that what’s most valuable was right in front of him. We needed that gap, for us to reunite and actually be able to love each other properly and willingly. Which definitely would not be a trouble now.

183 notes · View notes

mistaeq · 4 years ago

Text

stardust crusaders: with a s/o who does ballet

tw // none

contains: kujo jotaro, joseph joestar, kakyoin noriaki, muhammad avdol, jean pierre polnareff with a s/o who does ballet + nutcracker references. neutral!reader.

dora's note: this was a request from a sweet anon... i unwillingly posted it when it was unfinished and i lost the original ask because i had to delete it. if you're seeing this, i hope you enjoy it~🤍

word count: 1.9k

kujo jotaro

↳ he didn't really want to have anything to do with this ballet thing at first, but when he noticed how passionate you were about it and how much dancing meant for you, he understood it was no joke.

↳ you'd never imagine jotaro watching ballet, but he ended up gladly coming to see every performance of yours.

↳ after all, he's secretly so glad that your passion isn't something tiring for him or too loud. relaxing in front of a good performance of yours is way better for him than go traveling somewhere or even get into dance clubs.

↳ he's obviously heard of the nutcracker before, so when he hears from you that you'll have to perform in it, jotaro's gonna look up for it and make some research to be more informed about it.

↳ jotaro will never say it out loud, but all the efforts you put into ballet and into rehearsals scare him. he'd rather see you more relaxed and doesn't really know how to deal with it.

↳ he's not good at taking care of his own tiredness, go figure someone else's. but he'll definitely do his best. don't expect too many displays of affection, but he will.

↳ "i can move the sofa out of the way if you wanna have a quick rehearsal in the living room."

↳ while you do rehearse for the nutcracker, he'd spy on you from behind the book he's reading on the couch. don't ever tell him you notice that.

↳ the consequence of this, is that you'll probably find yourself in star platinum's arms as soon as you seem to be losing your balance. the man wouldn't let you fall so easily, he definitely keeps an eye on you.

↳ the man is used to you stretching your muscles almost everywhere around the house. he wouldn't be surprised if he woke up to you trying the splits even in your sleep. jotaro used to look at you as if you were alien at first, but now his mind accepted the fact that ballet dancers do be just flexible.

↳ jotaro is glad you have such a passion, so that during festivities like christmas or for your birthday, he knows ballet accessories will be appreciated. easy gift! but don't tell anyone.

joseph joestar

↳ oh gosh, joseph is such a supportive man. he's not a ballet kind of man, but it all becomes meaningless when it comes to supporting you. the man is gonna love ballet if it's you on the stage!

↳ definitely wants to try it too. he's kinda funny when he tries to dance with you, but you can tell he's doing his best.

↳ would you like to be spoilt? i hope so, because joseph is gonna use his huge amount of money to buy you unexpected gifts in the form of new ballet clothing, accessories and special pointe shoes with your name on them.

↳ when he gets to know you had a role in the nutcracker, he's on cloud nine and incredibly proud of you. he also specifies that his alarm clock's ringtone is one of the pieces from the nutcracker. oof.

↳ he's the kind of man who would help stretching your muscles or train with you. while you dance on the soothing music, he's gonna do push-ups or something for his muscles. on the soothing music.

↳ feeling responsible for a role in a piece like the nutcracker can easily be stressful. if you happen to have any breakdown, with joseph you won't be alone. he knows how to deal with you.

↳ but he also knows you don't like to rely on someone, above all on him, to be comforted. joseph always helps you and you don't want him to be overwhelmed. but he'll pull you closer using his hermit purple.

↳ "remember to dance and feel for yourself. not just to please whoever's gonna look at you."

↳ after you told him it's recommended to hit pointe shoes on the wall or scratch their bottom part, he'll always want to do that for you.

↳ he probably learns to reevaluate ballet thanks to you, your passion and the way you involve him in what you enjoy doing. if you're happy like that, then joseph is happy too, and he'll never stop reminding you that. he hasn't lost a single performance of yours.

↳ a downside (or perk) of having joseph as your main supporter is that he'll always make himself recognizable as the one who screams during your performances. what a man.

kakyoin noriaki

↳ probably differently from what you think, he won't even care about ballet. not because he doesn't care about what you like, just because he thinks he shouldn't try to say anything about it since he's a gamer.

↳ but that's only until you show him the emerald accessories you bought to match hierophant green's aesthetic. then, he's amazed.

↳ hierophant green is even more amazed than kakyoin himself, it won't stop nuzzling against you because he's grateful about the fact that you bought it for him purposely. the stand is deeply affectionate to you.

↳ get ready for a lot of questions coming from your cherry boy. noriaki is new to this world, and realized what stands behind ballet is much more tiring and stressful than anything that stands behind videogames, somehow.

↳ he gets scared when you mention the nutcracker. luckily, you immediately explain it's just the title of a ballet representation in which you had a role. phew. he thought you were gonna dance on nuts to crack them.

↳ kakyoin gets easily concerned when you stretch next to him. he lives in the constant fear and panic that you will suddenly break a leg or get bad muscle pain.

↳ he can't understand the struggles of doing ballet, but will probably look for anything to help on the internet. he got traumatized by pointe shoes. someone save this man's soul, please.

↳ "ballet scares me... but listen, do you have any performances planned, by chance? i wanna see..."

↳ probably brought jotaro with him to watch your performance in order to show you off to someone. he's a proud boyfriend.

↳ noriaki is the kind of boyfriend who would bring a professional camera to your performances in order to get some videos of you dancing recorded. he definitely watches them when he's alone in his room, and asks himself how can he have such a talented s/o.

↳ he set up some led lights in a room, for you to be able to create the correct atmosphere when you feel like rehearsing. there are many colors. the coolest thing he's ever bought for you.

muhammad avdol

↳ even if he's your boyfriend, he does behave like a dad. as soon as he gets to know you're into ballet, he'll turn into a proud parent. avdol's got no time to concern, he'll just be really happy for you have a passion like that.

↳ he'd read tarot cards for you everytime before a performance, and they always turn out positive. if they don't, he'll just tell you to be really careful.

↳ muhammad's always chill around you while you rehearse and tries not to look at you too much or interact too many times in order to not to distract you, but deep down, he's your number one fan and would look at you for hours.

↳ he tells everyone, when you get chosen to play a role in the nutcracker. it's something that gets often performed, but it's also so known that he takes it as if you were about to become a hollywood star.

↳ if you need someone's shoulder to cry on, he'll be the first one to embrace you. ballet isn't easy, and as much as he cherishes your passion, he'll always check on how you feel about it.

↳ last time he got too excited about your stage clothing, magician's red risked burning a pointe shoe of yours. luckily, avdol managed to handle it. he scolded his stand afterwards, but you petted it instead.

↳ no avdol, you can't get closer to the stage to take photos. you can take them from your seat. he's just like elementary school moms who want to take quality pictures of their children.

↳ "i know, falling during a performance feels horrible... come here, let me get you some ice..."

↳ he's the ceo of do-not-overwork-yourself and of if-you-feel-tired-please-stop. avdol will spoil you with cuddles after every rehearsal.

↳ if he notices you keep on comparing yourself to your fellow dancers, he'll make sure he makes you understand you're worth it just the way you are, and that you don't need to be like someone else to be talented. you'll always be his favourite either way, so you don't have to worry at all.

↳ you've let him decorate some accessories with patterns which are typical of his culture. your ballet teacher allowed you to dance in them. you couldn't be happier than that.

jean pierre polnareff

↳ have you said ballet? he loves ballet, those graceful way of dancing, the classical music, the whole atmosphere's just perfect for him, might it be because of the romantic part of his frenchness, but he's gonna cherish your passion.

↳ he's gonna dance with you. jean doesn't know how to do it, of course. but will still do that. he just enjoys it. just let him.

↳ the man treats you to special meals after rehearsals, or maybe some bubble tea, warm chocolate, or anything he has at home that he can serve you as a treat. dancing is important, but having a full stomach matters more.

↳ as soon as you come out of your latest lesson and tell him you've been chosen to have a role in the nutcracker, he'd immediately pick you up and pepper you with kisses and reminders of how proud of you he is.

↳ he'd jokingly behave like a dance teacher, keeping your timings in check. nothing serious, of course, if you told him you feel like taking a pause, he'd stop and get you a glass of fresh water.

↳ the two of you just have a lot of fun like that. you allow yourself to combine successfully some quality time with the man you love and your passion for ballet.

↳ "you're doing so well, listen to your man, you're gonna shine, babe, like the sun! trés bien!"

↳ you two once had to interrupt a rehearsal without finishing it properly, because he had said your pointe shoes looked just like his hair and you couldn't hold back the laughter.

↳ polnareff's the kind of boyfriend who doesn't want to be in the audience during performances of yours, he has a special place in your dressing room and is allowed to come in and be your emotional support. nobody's gonna keep him from being there for you!

↳ most of the time, he uses silver chariot - carefully - to move people out of the way in order to get to you. this obviously confuses non stand users, but that doesn't matter to him, as far as he can get to you.

↳ he brings food with him, when he comes to see your performances, so that he can feed you after it ends. as i said before, dancing is important, but for jean, eating is essential!

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part three #stardust crusaders #kujo jotaro #jotaro x reader #kakyoin noriaki #kakyoin x reader #joseph joestar #joseph x reader #muhammad avdol #avdol x reader #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff x reader #jjba headcanons #sweet anon

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roonilwazlibimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Some Quotes

I re read the Harry Potter books and here are some quotes I felt I wanted to remember

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone

There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them. Page 192

‘And you’re not sitting with the Prefects today, either,’ said George. ‘Christmas is a time for family.’ Page 218

(Dumbledore) It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Page 230

(Neville) ‘I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,’ he stammered. Page 240

(Hermione) ‘Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They’re not throwing me out after that.’ Page 291

(Hermione) ‘Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery.’ Page 308

(Dumbledore) ‘It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.’ Page 329

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

In the end, he chose the same new subjects as Ron, feeling that if he was rubbish at them, at least he’d have someone friendly to help him. Page 267

‘Because that’s what Hermione does,’ says Ron, shrugging. ‘When in doubt, go to the library.’ Page 269

(Dumbledore) It is out choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, for more than our abilities. Page 352

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

(Hermione) ‘Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he’d been in there for ages: no one wanted him.’ Page 64

‘We - shall I make a cup of tea?’ said Ron. Harry stared at him. ‘It’s what my mum does whenever someone’s upset,’ Ron muttered, shrugging. Page 232

Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. Page 319

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: go straight to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult the book. Page 18

Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself. Page 196

But Harry didn’t care, he wouldn’t have cared if Karkaroff had given him a zero; Ron’s indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him. He didn’t tell Ron this, of course, but his heart felt lighter than air as he turned to leave the enclosure. Page 304

He was not going to die kneeling at Voldemort’s feet...he was going to die upright like his father, and he was going to die trying to defend himself, even if no defence was possible... Page 558

(Dumbledore) ‘Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right, and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.’ Page 608

As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come...and he would have to meet it when it did. Page 617

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

‘Bill doesn’t like him either, said Ginny, as though that settled the matter. Page 64

‘Yeah, size is no guarantee of power,’ said George. ‘Look at Ginny.’ Page 92

‘The witch spoke in a fluttery, girlish, high-pitched voice that took harry aback; he had been expecting a croak. Page 135

‘Well, congratulations,’ said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, ‘authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn’t have appointed you...’ Page 156

Harry’s mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been a prefect either. Page 157

Seeing Hagrid again was one of the things he’d been looking forward to most. Page 181

Harry could not remember Hermione ever neglecting to read when instructed to, or indeed resisting the temptation to open any book that came under her nose. Page 223

Hermione drew herself up to her full height; her eyes were narrowed and her bushy hair seemed to crackle with electricity. Page 236

‘Wow, I wonder what it’d be like to have a difficult life?’ said Harry sarcastically. Page 242

Who cared about a stupid flying horse; Cho thought he had been really brave. For a moment, he considered accidentally-on-purpose showing her his cut hand as he helped her tie her parcel on to the owl... Page 263

She (Hermione) looked up at Ron and her frostiness seemed to melt. Page 272

(Luna) ‘Just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you-’ Page 319

‘Haven’t e got a counter-jinx or this?’ Fudge asked Umbridge impatiently, gesturing at Marietta’s face. ‘So she can speak freely?’ ‘I have not yet managed to find one,’ Umbridge admitted grudgingly, and Harry felt a surge of pride in Hermione’s jinxing ability. Page 566

‘Well usually when a person shakes their head,’ said McGonagall coldly, ‘ they mean “no”. So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign-language as yet unknown to humans -’ Page 569

Harry struggled around to see who was half strangling him and saw Professor McGonagall crouched beside him; she had forced both him and Marietta out of harms way. Page 573

(Dumbledore) ‘On the contrary...the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.’ Page 758

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

(Snape) ‘You think he is mistaken? Or that I have somehow hoodwinked him? Fooled the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard, the most accomplished Legilimens the world has ever seen?’ Page 23

‘I enjoyed the meetings, too,’ said Luna serenely. ‘It was like having friends.’ Page 115

...and watched Pansy stroke the sleek blond hair off Malfoy’s forehead, smirking as she did so, as though anyone would have loved to have been in her place. Page 125

It was a mark of the strength of their friendship that Ron did not laugh. Page 141

‘Humph,’ snorted Professor McGonagall. ‘It’s high time your (Neville’s) grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she’s got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have - particularly after what happened at the Ministry.’ Page 145

He did not usually lie in bed reading his textbooks; that sort of behaviour, as Ron rightly said, was indecent in anybody except Hermione, who was simply weird that way. Page 198

On the other hand, the Prince had proved a much more effective teacher than Snape so far. Page 199

‘I like really good Quidditch players,’ Hermione corrected her, still smiling. Page 260

She (Hermione) looked too fierce to argue with at that moment, so Harry dropped the subject of Ron and recounted all that he had overheard between Malfoy and Snape. Page 294

(Slughorn) ‘Had a house-elf taste every bottle after what happened to your poor friend Rupert.’ Page 403

It was important, Dumbledore said, to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then could evil be kept at bay, though never quite eradicated. Page 536

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

(Yaxley) ‘He always did himself well, Lucius. Peacocks...’ Page 2

‘This isn’t your average book,’ said Ron. ‘It’s pure gold: Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches... You’d be surprised, it’s not all about wandwork, either.’ Page 90

Kreacher’s thin arms trembled with the weight of the pan, still held aloft. ‘Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?’ Page 178

The empty words could not disguise the fact that his parents’ mouldering remains lay beneath snow and stone, indifferent and unknowing. Page 267

(Hermione) ‘Imagine losing fingernails, Harry! That really puts our sufferings into perspective, doesn’t it?’ Page 312

(Hermione) I mean, you could claim that anything’s real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody’s proved it doesn’t exist!’ Page 335

The three of them spoke at the same time; Hermione said, ‘the Clock,’ Ron said, ‘the wand,’ and Harry said, ‘the stone.’ Page 337

Luna had decorated her bedroom ceiling with five beautiful painted faces: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville. They were not moving as the portraits of Hogwarts moved, but there was a certain magic about them all the same: Harry thought they breathed. What appeared to be fine golden chains wove around the pictures, linking them together, but after examining them for a minute or so, Harry realised that the chains were actually one word, repeated a thousand times in golden ink: friends ... friends ... friends ... Page 340

(Neville) ‘The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them, it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Harry.’ Page 467

His eyes feasted on her (Lily), and he thought that he would like to stand and look at her forever, and that would be enough. Page 571

#harry potter #harry potter quotes #my quotes

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therenlover · 4 years ago

Text

The Doctor Is In (Part Two of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Attempted Theft, Secrets, Suspicions,

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild Language, Slight Sexual Innuendo

Word Count: 2800~

This work, as well as the other completed parts of this series, have been crossposted to my AO3!

-----

To Peter’s credit, it had all started with good intentions… okay, semi-good intentions, but that was the best defense he had to offer.

One moment he’s speeding into a funky building with a cool glass window looking for a knick-knack to take home to Y/N and the next he’s falling through endless darkness, searching for anything he could possibly grab onto. It was hell. Worst of all, though, he couldn’t use his speed. The world was only emptiness and darkness for as far as he could reach. Well, it was until he hit the ground.

It was a sudden jolt after what felt like hours of captivity when Peter hit the cool tiles of the flooring below him. The bright light after total darkness burned his eyes. He winced against it, lifting his arms to shield his face. There was no time to acclimate to his new surroundings, though, which were definitely not part of the building he had been inside before he might add, because the second his vision came back into focus a booming voice rang out from behind him.

“Peter Maximoff, what purpose did you have for breaking into the Sanctum Sanctorum?”

Peter spun around quickly on the ground to find a man floating behind him. Wait, floating? He didn’t even have time to question how the stranger knew his name while he was questioning what the hell he was. Was he a mutant? The man looked furious, his red cape billowing out behind him in an almost menacing manner while he stroked his goatee, eyebrows pinched together with rage. Peter had no clue what his deal was or who the hell he was looking at but he did know he had to calm him down fast if he wanted to avert disaster.

Apparently, he was thinking too long though because he wasn’t fast enough.

“I’ll ask you one last time,” the man’s hands came down to chest level, whirring with some sort of orange power, “why did you break into the Sanctum Sanctorum? This is your last chance,”

Somewhere in the distance, a dull thud sounded against the tile, like someone dropping a purse or bag. Peter didn’t have time to think about that, though. He was too busy saving his own life. All he had to do was get to his feet so he could run off! Unfortunately, that was better said than done.

“Woah, Woah, Woah!” he scrambled backward trying to stand but found his feet bound with the same orange sparks that were growing by the second in his attacker’s hands, “I have no clue what the hell a Sanctum Sanctorum is! I think you’ve got the wrong guy, man,”

His assailant cocked his head to the side. “So you’re telling me some other inhumanly fast kleptomaniac mutant from another dimension broke through all of my wards and tried to steal priceless magical artifacts from the Sanctum?”

Peter shrugged nonchalantly. “Magical artifacts? Dude, magic isn’t real. You’ve got the wrong guy,”

Thankfully, the man sighed in exhaustion, letting the orange sparks in his palms disappear as he pinched the bridge of his nose leaving only the ones around Peter’s ankles remaining. For the first time in his life, Peter was glad to be annoying.

“Jesus, I should have had my coffee before dealing with you…”

“I know right?” Peter propped himself up on his hands, “it’s always tragic when you catch the wrong guy, but I’m sure you’ll find your thief eventually. In fact, I think I saw some super speedy dude running towards Central Park when I was walking past that fancy building with the big circle window. That’s so weird! Maybe you should let me go so you can go find your guy,”

The man only seemed to get more pissed off the further Peter dug himself into his own grave. “Oh, I’m not planning on letting you go any time soon. I’m just avoiding a reckoning by letting your keeper know I’m taking you into the Avenger’s custody before we go,”

He was so screwed. “That’s not a-”

Before Peter could even finish his sentence, a crash echoed from across the room.

“STEPHEN STRANGE,”

Now, Peter couldn’t decide if he was saved or even more screwed than before.

There, across the room of what he had now gathered to be a large exhibit at some sort of museum, was Y/N. To say she looked furious would be an understatement.

The art on the walls seemed to shake in her wake as she stormed into the open center of the room, eyes boring holes into Peter’s assailant as she rolled up the sleeves of her paint-stained denim button-up. He could only imagine that this was the reckoning the magic dude was trying to avoid.

The man, Stephen, didn’t waver despite Y/N’s entrance. “Would it kill you to just use my title? I got my doctorate for a reason, you know,” His tone was flat and almost bored as Y/N seethed.

“Fuck you,” she spat, “what the hell are you doing with Peter? And bringing him here of all places? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible Avenger,”

“And I thought you were supposed to keep this menace under control. It looks like we both have a few responsibilities we aren’t keeping up with, huh?”

Across the floor, Peter winced. He hadn’t intended on getting anyone in trouble, he was just looking for a little fun to pass the time and maybe a housewarming gift that would fit in with the rest of Y/N’s antique decor. How was he supposed to know that a crazy, magic, floating guy would take him to what he could only assume was magic prison for breaking into his wizard’s lair? Surprisingly, Y/N picked up his movement.

“Peter, are you okay?” Her eyes never left Strange, flaming with a ferocity that bordered on homicidal, but her voice softened considerably as she spoke to him. He was quick to respond.

“I’m all good! A little tied up at the moment, but it’s nothing I can’t handle!” He shouted back.

Y/N nodded. “Good, just stick tight while I deal with this asshole,”

As the last words left her lips all the softness she had mustered for Peter’s sake dissolved, leaving behind pure, unbridled anger once more.

“You had no right to take him, Strange. We made a deal,”

“You’re right, we did make a deal,” Stephen responded, floating to the ground and taking a step closer to Y/N, “but my duties as Sorcerer Supreme will always come first,”

“That has nothing to do with him! He poses no threat to this universe!”

“He was attempting to steal extremely powerful magical artifacts, Y/N! If a mutant from another dimension had gotten their hands on the Book of Vishanti or the Clock of the Ages who knows what might have happened?”

Y/N stilled. “Peter,” her voice wasn’t the same as it had been when she was shouting at Strange, but it also wasn’t half as gentle as it has been before, “did you steal anything from Stephen?”

Peter, still dazed from the entirety of the experience, was quick to defend himself.

“No! No, I didn’t steal anything!”

One sharp look from Stephen and Y/N sent him spiraling for an excuse.

“Okay, I went in with the intention of stealing, but I had no idea that stuff was magical! I didn’t even know wizards existed! Witches I understood but wizards too? In the middle of New York? Besides, all of this is a moot point! I didn’t actually take anything,”

Surprisingly, Y/N’s expression seemed to soften once again. “See, Stephen? Peter didn’t mean any harm. Now let him go, and this can all be a thing of the past,” As she spoke, he could have sworn that her eyes began to faintly glow.

“I still don’t think it’s a great idea to let him roam free,” Stephen ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair and the restraints around Peter’s ankles tightened slightly.

“Then you’ll have to take him from me,” Y/N brought her hands up, small rippling balls of light beginning to grow in her palms. Peter had never been so scared and aroused in his life. Was this the ‘small power’ she had mentioned to him when he moved in?

“I have remained civil with you and the mages of your order, Strange, but you have no power over me, especially on my own home turf. You lack the time stone now, so you know what will happen if you and I go toe to toe again. Besides, none of that matters. Peter is mine. Mine to protect and defend until he returns to his rightful place in his universe. So, will you let him go, or will we have to settle this the old-fashioned way?”

Y/N’s eyes were definitely glowing now, a brilliant green gleaming from within her as a rough breeze began flowing in from the door across the room. Stephen made no move to attack though. Instead, he heaved a sigh. “You can have your man child back Y/N, calm down,”

Slowly, the glow dissipated, the orbs of light shrinking into nothingness as she lowered her hands. “Thank you, Stephen,”

In an instant, it was as if the pair had gotten along the whole time.

He nodded. “Don’t thank me, just keep him away from ancient magical secrets next time,” Strange paused as if he was finished speaking, but then chuckled softly. It was the most human Peter had ever seen him. “You know how this ends, Y/N. We both do. Are you really sure you want to go through with this?”

It was Y/N’s turn to nod. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but I made my choice a long time ago. There has never been another path for me. Please respect that,”

Peter was clueless as to what any of their exchange meant, too busy rubbing the ache out of his newly freed ankles to think too deeply about whatever deep exchange was happening in front of him, but a nagging feeling in his chest made him think that it must have something to do with him.

Then, in a burst of golden light, Stephen Strange was gone, leaving Y/N and Peter alone as they took in everything that had just happened. It was silent for a moment, the two of them caught between being stunned and glad to see each other, before Y/N’s angry facade melted away.

“What a fucking asshole,” she snickered, making her way over to Peter and offering him a hand, “I hate that guy,”

Peter took her hand and, with a soft pull, was finally upright again. “I know, right? He seems like a total douchebag,”

“Right? Like, yeah it’s terrible enough to kidnap you and try to take you into Avengers custody, but trying to get me to hand you over at my job? That’s just rude on a whole new level,”

“You work here?” Peter gestured at the art on the walls, making Y/N smile.

“Yeah, this is where I go every day. Welcome to the Brooklyn Museum!” She began to lead him out towards the door, linking her arm around his in a strangely intimate act. Peter was sure that she didn’t mean it like that but something about her closeness made his heart flutter.

He guffawed as they walked, passing happy couples and exhibits packed full. “It’s cool here, but I just assumed you worked somewhere… I dunno, more hero-y?”

Y/N laughed. “Everyone always does, but I’ve been attached to restoring paintings since before I ever took up the whole hero gig. I guess it’s the one stable thing I’ve had for my whole life.”

Watching Y/N’s face light up almost made Peter forget that less than an hour earlier he’d been shoved in an infinite dark dimension and threatened with imprisonment by a wizard. It was like she was the only thing worth seeing in a building full of priceless art.

“I’ve always felt strangely comfortable in museums,” she continued, hand brushing against Peter’s bicep in what he could only assume was an accident, “being surrounded by history just feels right to me. It’s like coming home,” Peter couldn’t help but grin, holding back a snicker.

“I’m guessing that’s the real reason you offered to take me in,” he teased, gently ribbing Y/N and making her giggle, “just couldn’t help but bring home a blast from the past who still has their youthful good looks,”

“You caught me! I just couldn’t resist your elderly charms,”

In a moment of poor judgment, Peter found himself leaning into her touch but was surprised to find her leaning right back into him. His heart began to pound faster. He could only hope she couldn’t tell. The feeling of being close to Y/N, listening to her laugh, being the shoulder she leaned on… it was like nothing Peter had ever felt before.

The short remainder of their walk to Y/N’s destination was mostly quiet, but neither of them tried to pull away from the other. Their moment only ended when they reached a large door labeled ‘Staff Only’. Y/N finally unlinked her arm from Peter’s before turning to face him. He was proud to note the flush on her face.

“I’m gonna go grab my bag,” she muttered, worrying the edge of her lip with her teeth, “do you mind taking me home? Traveling with you would probably be faster than hailing a taxi, and way less expensive,”

Between the thought of getting to be close to Y/N again and the excitement of getting to show off his powers, Peter was eager to please. “Sure thing! Do you want me to grab your bag for you? I’m sure I’d be quicker?” He emphasized his statement with a wink. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the desired effect.

Instead, Y/N looked almost nervous as she shook her head no. “I’ve got it, Peter,” she insisted.

He quirked up an eyebrow in surprise. “You sure? We could be home in a minute tops, just say the word,”

“There’s just a lot of important museum stuff back there! I trust you Peter, but this is priceless art we’re talking about, so I’d rather not take any chances. I’ll be back in a second!”

She slowly backed towards the door, offering him one last smile before disappearing into the darkness beyond. Something about her expression turned Peter’s stomach. It wasn’t unfamiliar, she had acted similarly in a few days Peter had known her at seemingly random times, but it just seemed… suspicious, like there was something he should definitely know that he was being kept in the dark about. Despite everything, he shook off the feeling, chalking it up to him not understanding all the intricacies of this new universe. If love made him blind, he was willing to take that chance.

It only took a few minutes for Y/N to emerge, a small messenger bag in hand, but when she did she was joyful once again, offering Peter an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Did I miss anything while I was gone?”

He shook his head, pulling down his goggles and offering her his hand. “Not much, just the end of the world,”

She giggled. “So do I just hop on your back or what?”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. In a second he was down on his knee. “All aboard,” He did his best to keep still as Y/N settled herself on his back, then he was lifting her easily, arms hooked under her knees as she giggled into his hair. “What’s so funny?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders securely as he stood. “I just expected you to call yourself the Bohner express,”

It took all of Peter’s strength to keep his laughter under control. “You tell me that now? After the opportunity to use it has passed?”

Y/N squeezed him a little tighter. “I’m sure you’ll get to use it next time,”

The thought of a next time sent Peter’s heart rate through the roof. Oh, it was on.

“I’d hold on if I were you,” he said, smirking, “the Bohner express is leaving the station,”

Y/N was quick to snap back. “Let’s hope it doesn’t disappoint,”

“Oh Y/N, the Bohner express never disappoints,”

“Prove it,”

Peter had them back to the brownstone in record time.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #marvel #doctor strange #quicksilver #fanfic #wandavision

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

Purpose (Jeno x you)

a/n : sorry for ranting in the previous post, but here is my first oneshot of Jeno x reader ...please leave a comment or just anything so I know what to do and not do in my future works :D

happy MLK day! Enjoy the long weekend aka monday break!

warning : major character with disability! Please proceed only if you feel okay with it. Jaehyun is your brother :D (sorry if I use hyung accidentally, it’s a habit of mine. I make my characters always calling the older brother hyung, so it sounds less “romantic”)

word count : 3.0K

Check out my other works in my masterlist

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ . . ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

“Jeno, do you ever wonder what your purpose in life is?” you rolled to the side of your body and rested your weight on one of your supporting arms, eyes aimlessly piercing into Jeno’s side face.

The said man who was staring at the ceiling turned his head to look at you. In this small bed you share with your best friend, he pulls his face back to give some respectful distance in between.

He glances back to the ceiling and hums, “Umm interesting, let me think of it.” He ponders for a while and your hand accidentally brush his. He laughs when a sudden memory comes into his mind and he ignored your hand that’s still lingering next to his.

“Tell me! You’re laughing! Did you know your purpose of existence in life?” you shake his taller and built body. His arm really feels buff and hard right now. Sometimes you wonder where the hell did your ten years old lanky best friend go. You’re his partner in crime since third grade and both of you graduated junior school together, even now you’re counting days to your senior school graduation still with him. Only that puberty hits Jeno Lee like a truck and bam here lies a young charismatic man lying with you on your bed as if it is nothing. (Well it is nothing right? Just two best friends sharing a bed. Lmao okay sorry author is writing this at 3.30 am)

He giggles and bops your nose, “No. I am not going to answer it.”

You pout, unaware of the effect it gives to the young man beside you. “Fine, I guess my purpose in this life is to bug and bother you.” You taunt and Jeno really wants to smack your head right now, but that is something he will never do.

“Fine if your purpose is to disturb me, then my purpose is to bear with it and make sure you never go beyond your line or hurt yourself.” He says this out loud, and continues in his heart, “Again, I’ll never let anything, or anyone hurt you again.”

Jeno lifts his arm to run a smoothing hand on your hair and you’re no longer surprised by this. Actions like this is common between you and Jeno.

“I haven’t washed my hair, stop touching it,” you run your hand over your head to stop him.

He chuckles and just ignores your word, “I don’t care, it’s not dirty you know. You smell sweet.” He sniffs into your hair and indeed it is fresh. You’re being over insecure.

“Fine. So, what time is it?” you cock your head to the side, showing him you’re asking a question.

Jeno runs his eyes into the clock hanging in your room, “It’s almost five. Your brother will be home after this around six. Do you need anything?” he asks when he sees you sit up from your laying position and grabbing your cane.

You nod, “Can you bring me to the café shop by the end of the road? It’s Jaehyun’s birthday today and I want to give him a cake.”

Jeno couldn’t help but feel his heart swells with emotion. Even after the unfortunate accident that hit you and your brother on the road, but only took your vision away, you never hate your brother at all. Jeno remembers how petrified he was the day he got a call from his mother telling him to rush to the hospital because you ran into an accident.

Three years ago

“Catch me if you can! I will finish the cake before you can get any.” You taunt at your older brother and run with all your might to get home faster than he did so you can stuff the whole cake into your mouth.

Jaehyun was still paying the cake when you ran with it already. He yelled out loud to you when you ran whilst looking back into him. He was too late.

Jaehyun saw your body flew through the concrete and the box of cake you were running with was already crushed over. The owner of the van got down and quickly run you and Jaehyun to the hospital. Jaehyun hugged you throughout the way to the hospital, his white shirt is already drained in dark red blood. His happy face he had that day for turning 20 was gone. He can only wish his one and only sister will make it alive.

The hospital did their best in trying to bring your consciousness alive. Your head hit the concrete, but luckily there are no serious injuries in your head. Fractures are found in your left side of the body but what hurts Jaehyun and your parents the most, was the fact that you will not be seeing anything in less than three months.

The experts were called, and everyone agreed that sadly nothing can be done to prevent you from facing the total darkness. From the age of 14 you lost your sight, you lost your friends, you lost your confidence, you lost your will to live. You wanted to die, but Jeno would never let that happen. He saw potentials inside you, and he saw the beauty you have within your heart that more people should see.

Jeno was the first non-family member to visit you after the news was spread. He was the first one to stay by your side and the last one from your school society.

You were suggested to move to a special need school, but with Jeno’s constant reassurance and help you stay with him in the regular school. After school, Jeno will accompany you learn braille and follow you to your post-traumatic therapy too. He even listened to the specialist called to teach you how to walk with a cane and how to use your cane as your second eye. He did struggle a lot to not play around with your service dog, because Goldy (your golden retriever who helps you walk in public) is not supposed to be friendly, Goldy needs to be alert!

Your family luckily didn’t abandon you, but they were sadly not in the same country as you were right now. Today, you’re only living with Jaehyun and Jeno is practically your neighbour from the flat next door.

Jeno actually did not want to bring you to the same store that caused the dreadful unfortunate event to happen to you. Not in the same day, on the same spot.

“You sure? I can buy it for you while you wait here.” He sounds worried that your post traumatic nerves might act up and calming you down in a crowded room is not easy.

You nod your head, “It’s been three years Jeno. Don’t worry. Jaehyun has never eaten that cake for three years! He did not want to go there. I guess my brother is more traumatized than me. I also want that damn cake.” You already stand up and grab a jacket. Without his help, you’re already good in dressing up. If you wear glasses, no one will know about your condition. The fractures healed perfectly, your face is still as pretty as one can be, it’s just that your eyeball did not spark life in them.

Jeno sighs, he can do nothing if you’re this persistent. “Okay, but please just this time hold my hands okay?”

You nod. Usually you ask Jeno to just walk beside you a several step behind, just to guard you. You’re good in walking with the help of Goldy. You never want to be a burden, although Jeno repeatedly tells you he doesn’t see you as a burden.

The tall man also takes his jacket and wallet. He stands by your side, gives his arm to you and you take it gently. Your right hand is holding Goldy’s leash and with Jeno by your side, three of you make your way to the bakery.

“Nice weather, it’s not crowded eh?” you ask when you feel the gentle breeze and rather quiet sound of the road. Usually this road is busy but not at the moment.

“Yes, I think it’s not the rush hours yet. We should hurry before it gets crowded. Hold on tight we’re crossing the road.” Jeno looks right and left. When he feels your grip tighten, he smiles to himself as he crosses the road with you carefully. Finally, you’re not as stubborn as usual!

You step into the store and automatically a smile comes to your face when the fragrance smell of sweet fresh baked pastries tickle your nose. “Hmmm this is yummy! We should consider living next to a bakery Jen!” you excitedly squeeze his arm you’re still holding on to and Jeno just smiles at your remarks.

“Do you want to sit down? I can order you a tea while they customize the cake.” Jeno asks, you deny it saying that you just want to go back quick before Jaehyun did.

So, after you do your ordering and finished the payment, Jeno only has to help with writing down the customized message. After 15 minutes, the box is set in Jeno’s right hand while his left hand is occupied with your firm grip.

You enjoy the short walking distance, simply enjoying the light breeze of the gentle wind and stopping for a moment to inhale the different smell in every block.

With your sharp nose, you know when you’ve passed by the coffee shop, the flower boutique, and your favourite Pizza place. You’ve ordered food for dinner and they’re already in your kitchen, you just need to reheat it.

Jaehyun drives his car back home, it’s a wonderful day. He got promoted thanks to the successful product launching his team did last month and today is also his birthday. Although a small part of his heart still grief over his own sister’s lost of sight on his birthday, he always try to cover that guilt because you’ve been repeatedly telling him not to bother it. He doesn’t know what he did in the previous life to actually deserves a really sincere and kind sister like you. That is also why Jaehyun loves you with all his might and heart.

He steps his foot into the comfortable apartment he shares home with his sister, and a trail of laugh echoes through the room when he sees you and Jeno holding a cake with a well decorated place. Jeno rushed his décor, simply putting on Happy Birthday Jaehyun balloons and draping a golden curtain over the bare walls.

“Happy Birthday Jaeeee!!” you scream on top of your lungs and open your arms wide. Jaehyun picks you up in his hug and turns you around, “Thank you! And you too Jeno!” he pats the younger’s shoulder.

“Blow the candles!!” you clap your hands and Jaehyun did what you say. He wipes a tear that escapes his eyes but quickly covers it up with a smile. He secretly wishes so that your smile will always be this wide and he wishes to experience more happy times with you.

“Both of you don’t have to do this you know,” Jaehyun says after putting the final heated up dish on the dining table. Although he is the one having birthday, he didn’t want you to set the table up. So, here you are seated on your chair, with Jeno on the other side.

“She insisted.” Jeno snickers.

You swear if he is on your side right now, you’ll slap him. Lucky he is far from your reach.

“Can’t you just be thankful hyung?” you roll your eyes and hufth.

Jaehyun lovingly ruffles your hair and kisses your cheek “Araseo, Thank you sweetie and you too Jeno! Thanks for dealing with this super annoying princess.” His tone sounds playful and you laugh at it.

“Jeno is whipped for me, he won’t bother having to take care of me all the time. Right Jeno?” you ask him this as a matter of keeping the spirit up. It’s as if you’re only playing around to Jaehyun’s joke but deep inside your heart… you did wish Jeno will want to take care of you til death takes you away from him.

“Stop that (y/n)! You’re making him uncomfortable,” Jaehyun mumbles as the three of you start digging into the dinner.

Jeno just laughs along, he is used to the two of you teasing and bickering with each other. He loves witnessing this and being in it. He loves the warm feeling of being “home” whenever you are around. “Tell him the truth Jeno! Did you hate me for being annoying?” you suddenly feel a bit sad to ask him this. What if Jaehyun is right? What if Jeno is actually tired of you? Afterall he can get way better and prettier girls. Why did he stay with you if he doesn’t like you. You used to ask yourself that when you feel lonely at night.

Jeno looks into you and into Jaehyun. He somewhat senses you feeling down about asking this and that hurts his heart. After glancing at Jaehyun, and receiving a nod from the older brother. Jeno finally answers your question.

“You’re not annoying. Even if you are sometimes, you’re my annoying princess. Look, don’t be sad… I’ll never leave your side okay?” Jeno reaches his hand out to take yours into his. He gently take your palm into his and his thumb strokes your palm calmly. Sending a reassuring feeling to you.

You feel your cheeks burning and your stomach bursting with butterflies. Your heart can explode right now, with this soft touch of Jeno and how his sure answer ends all of your silly scenarios.

“You will never leave my side?” You echo back to him.

Jaehyun winks to Jeno and secretly leaves his chair. You snap your head to the side (luckily the right side because Jaehyun is on your right) “Where are you going?”

Jaehyun mumbles a quick excuse, “Needed to call someone for work, just remember… sorry it’s urgent, go continue without me.”

You return your head to face Jeno and the young boy is already thinking of his next line.

His thumb caresses your hand again and you love that sensation.

“So, to answer your previous answer... I love you (y/n).” his sincere honey deep voice sooths your ear and a warm sensation envelopes your heart.

“I love you and I will never leave you. I’ll be by your side just like now, until forever. Don’t feel bad for needing my help, I’m always happy when I can help you. Instead, I feel sad when I see you trying to do everything by yourself… It’s like you didn’t want my help.” Your bestfriend explains his own feeling to you.

You quickly shake your head, “Sorry Jeno, I didn’t mean to reject your help. Gosh, I’m just feeling like I’ve asked too much from you and that I should stop. It’s my fault.”

Jeno stands and moves to sit next to you, he brings a strand of hair away from your face clearing the view he loves and he wishes to wake up to every day.

“Don’t worry, I know you don’t mean it. Now, don’t hesitate to call me okay? I’ll be here for you.” Jeno gently touches your chin.

You nod and blush, “I love you too Jeno, it’s mutual.” You lean in closer, wishing Jeno can catch your signal and leads you to the thing you secretly put in your number one wishlist to do with Jeno.

He gets your signal, with a small smile the sweet man pulls you slowly into his face and as you tilt your head to the side, Jeno’s lips finally found yours.

It was fleeting but the sensation lingers for a while. You’re still busy controlling your heart beat when you feel Jeno already disappear from your side and Jaehun’s foot steps come into the kitchen again.

“So, what did I miss?” he looks into both of you, but judging through the red faces both of you have, he just lets out a small cough and giggles.

“Who’s ready for the desert? Cake is here!” he quickly takes the plates and cuts the cake into smaller portions.

You can successfully focus back on the dinner and continues talking around while enjoying the sweet chocolate mousse cake.

Dinner ends nicely, Jaehyun pushes both of you to the living room while he insists on washing the dishes with loud music blasting on his earphone. He is glad finally both of them come our to each other. He’s frustrated whenever he sees the clear mutual feelings both of you are trying to supress.

Turns out today is indeed a good day.

Jeno hugs you from the side when both of you sit at the sofa. He is cuddling you, who is sleepy from the filling dinner.

“Jeno, did you remember the question I asked you earlier?” you suddenly bring this topic up.

He hums, and holds your hand in his, “I did, I think I know my answer.”

You raise your brow, “What is it? Tell me.”

He steals a quick peck from your lips, “I’m going to find my purpose of living slowly with you by my side. We’ll explore new things everyday together, and when one day I really find my purpose, I’ll make sure you are there and you know it.”

You feel like all the chains and nightmares clinging into your subconsciousness is broken free. The insecure feelings of being less perfect is gone and you trust Jeno with all your heart that he loves you and he will not leave you.

You smile and run a hand on his jawline, “Then I will also hold your hand as I find my purpose in this life too. Thank you Jeno, for always staying by my side. I promise I will also be here for you whenever you feel like the world is against you.”

He kisses your knuckle of the hand that touches his cheek, “I know darling, now if you’re tired just sleep.”

You close your eyes and shifts your body until it is comfortable enough to hug him from the side while leaning into him. “Thank you and I love you Jeno.”

He whispers back, “Love you most (y/n). Sleep tight, sweet dreams” he pecks your forehead and stays until you’re asleep.

Tonight indeed is a good day for everyone of you!

end.

tell me what you think xD

XOXO, cosmic

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

Text

Iron 8 (Peter Parker x F!Oc)

A/N: I don't know if anyone got confused, I noticed it late, lol, but the actress that I take as Lily's reference will always be Mackenzie foy, Lily Collins is Jessica. Ok enjoy -Val

Warnings: panic attack, child abuse.

Words: 2, 944

Masterlist:

Chapter 7 / Chapter 9

"Please, answer,” Jess groans, her phone against her ear and with the emergency number sheet in her other hand.

"Who is it and why do you have my number?" Tony answers.

“Mr. Stark,” She sighs. “Thank God! I'm Jessica, Lily's babysitter,” Tony frowns when he hears the girl.

"What's going on?" He checks the clock in his room, calculating the time difference. It should be one in the morning there.

“I'm not sure, sir— We were sleeping and I heard her screaming. I-I thought she was having a nightmare,” She stops, controlling her breathing. “She was sweating and screaming. I tried to help her, but she ran away and—”

"Okay, you have to breathe. Where’s Lily?"

"She went down to the workshop, J.A.R.V.I.S won't let me in and says that her temperature is very high.”

Tony sighs, since Lily told him about the nightmares, he’d never been around and now he thinks that maybe their argument has something to do with it.

"Okay. Go to the workshop and put me on speaker.”

Jess takes the phone and obeys.

“Done."

"J.A.R.V.I.S, grant access to..."

“Jessica,” She adds.

"Access conceived,” answers the AI.

Jessica opens the door and is about to look for Lily, but Tony's voice stops her.

"Find her, leave the phone near her and get out of there.”

"What? What if she needs medical help?" She says deactivating the speaker. "Sir, something else happened when I tried to touch her, I’m afraid she’s hurt…”

"Trust me, she's not," He answers, seeing another small screen that is holding in his hand, projecting the girl's vital signs. "Do it.”

Tony hears movement. Jess sees the bulge under one of the cars and puts the phone on the ground, activates the speaker, and walks away from her.

"Kid?"

Lily knew Jess had found her, but hearing her father's voice makes her jump. She slowly turns around looking at the phone on the floor.

"Okay, I'm going to pretend you're listening to me,” He sits on the bed. "A nightmare, huh? I thought you hadn't had one for a long time,” He waits a few seconds, but gets no response.

Lily hugs her legs tighter. Tony sighs.

"Kid, come on, tell me something. Shows signs of life. I just want to help you…”

"I hurt her,” She says in a small voice.

"What?"

"I hurt Jess,” She says louder.

"It was not your intention, kid,” Tony answers.

“But I still did. I didn't want to, I'm sorry,” She says between sobs. Tony closes his eyes not knowing what to do. He’s about to call Pepper, but he remembers how stressed she has been since they arrived.

“It wasn't my intention. I didn't want to hurt anyone. It was the same with my mother and she left me. I don't want Jess to leave me,” She continues. She feels a strong pain in her chest.

"She won't go away—”

“You don't know that. She was scared. She has blisters and her hand was all red,” She cries. “I’m a monster!”

“Okay, this is what we’ll do, Lily. Where are you?”

"What?"

"Tell me where you are.”

"Under the blue car,” She frowns.

Tony ignores the fear that runs through his body with the possibility that the car might react badly to the high temperature.

"Get out of there. I need to hear you better.”

"I dont want to go outside…”

“Do what I tell you, please. I know what’s happening to you and it’s better if you get out of there.”

She obeys, grabs the phone with her shaking hands as she leans on one of the car's tires.

"And now?"

“I want you to do exactly what I tell you. Can do it?"

"I don’t know.”

“Yes you can, come on. You’ll breathe with me, it's simple. When I tell you one, inhale, and two, exhale slowly. We’ll do it together.”

"I don’t think that-"

“One," Tony interrupts and inhales making an exaggerated noise so that Lily knows what he's doing. There's no other option but to imitate it. “Two…”

They did so five more times. The pain in the girl's chest subsides and her shoulders relax.

“You're better?"

"Yes," She answers hoarsely.

"Okay. The nightmare. Do you wanna tell me?"

She bites the inside of her cheek and hugs her legs again.

“You'll feel better if you tell me.”

"How do you know?" She frowns.

"It has happened to me.”

"When?"

"When my parents— that's not important,” He checks his watch. He knows that Pepper is about to come in to urge him about dinner, lunch, or whatever they have planned.

Lily sighs.

“I was in a white room,” She says slowly. “I had a straitjacket, like the one they put on crazy people in the movies. No one was coming for me and I tried to scream, but I-I wanted to use my hands, nothing worked… You weren't there to help, or Happy, or Pepper, or Rhodey. I was alone…”

‘Why can’t she have nightmares about normal monsters in her closet…’ Tony thinks.

“Why aren’t you here?" Lily sobs. Tony feels an emptiness in his chest, he’d never felt that way before.

“Maybe you can't see me, Flower. But I’m there. I’m listening to you.”

"But I want to see you. I… I miss you, daddy."

"I miss you too, Flower,” He sighs. “I'm sorry for what I told you before I left. I wish you were here. At least it’d be more fun. I'm sick of hearing people ask me about the suit. One of them asked me why I’d chosen those colors as if they were the worst choice!”

"I chose them!” She answers offended. Tony smiles.

"I know. I like it like that.”

“Well, you could make another one blue. I also like blue,” She comments, looking at the other armor prototypes that are in the back of the workshop.

Tony can't help laughing.

"I'll think about it," He clears his throat. "Do you feel better?"

"Yes, but,” She wipes her nose. "What will happen to Jess? I don't want another babysitter.”

“I'll talk to her, but I can assure you that she’s more concerned about you than she is about herself.”

"Really?"

"She called me.”

Tony's bedroom door opens, but before Pepper can say anything to him, Tony points to the phone, gets out of bed, and walks away from the redhead.

“Dad?"

"Yes, Flower?" He says remarking the words for Pepper to understand. The redhead frowns.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you before you left. I just wanted to spend more time with you…”

"I understand, but you know that we can’t risk it.”

“Okay…”

"Hey, I have to go. Pepper's face is redder than my armor.”

For the first time in all that time, Lily laughs.

"It's fine.”

"See ya ', kiddo.”

"Goodbye, Dad.”

Lily hangs up. She hears footsteps approaching.

"Hi," Jess says sitting across from her.

"I'm sorry I hurt you,” whispers the girl.

"Are you okay?" Jess asks.

"I'm better.”

"Do you want to go up?"

"Won't you go? Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Why would I be afraid of my friend?”

"I hurt you.”

"It was not on purpose.”

“B-but it's not normal. You only touched me…”

“Yes, it’s rare, but it’s still an accident. I'm not going anywhere, Lily.”

Lily still doesn't understand why Jess is so calm, but she's too tired to keep asking. She just nods.

"Do you want to go up?" She asks, offering her good hand.

They both go back up to Lily's room.

"Can you sleep with me?" The girl asks.

“Sure."

They prepare the bed, but a call on Jess's cell phone interrupts. Mr. Stark.

"I'll be right back…”

Jess leaves the room and walks as far away as possible.

"Should I ask the same as the girl?”

"How is it possible that such a little girl suffers so much?"

“I'm not sure yet, but it has happened before. Now, do I have to hire another babysitter?"

"Will you tell me what’s wrong with her?"

"What would you do with that information?" Jess rolls her eyes.

"I just want to help her.”

Tony sighs.

"She was born with something strange and bad people wanted to take advantage of it.”

“So what she dreamed… It is a memory?"

"Did you hear it?"

“She screamed before she woke up. She begged not to be hurt.”

"Yes, they’re memories.”

Jess bites her lower lip. She turns over her shoulder to make sure Lily isn't listening.

"I have a theory.”

"I don't have much time, speak up.”

“Miss Potts warned me a bit about the nightmares, but I understand that they hadn't happened for a long time. Did you and Lily argue at other times before?”

"I don’t think so.”

“Don’t you think that the nightmares return when she doesn't feel the security that you give her? By not being home and knowing that you’re upset. They also told me that her mother abandoned her, fear makes her memories return.”

Tony doesn't respond for a few seconds.

"What degree are you studying?"

“Psychology."

Makes sense. I don't know, Miss Adams. But I’ll take it into account.”

“Okay, sir.”

***

After Mr. Stark explained a bit about what really happened, Jess felt scared, but not for her. The brunette had witnessed the very agony in the body of a little girl. She’s never lied by saying that she just wants to help her. She’ll never abandon Lily.

"Do you want to see a movie?" She asks from across the kitchen table.

"I have to do homework,” replies Lily scratching her eye wearily.

"I think you deserve a break.”

“Maybe…”

"Mr. Stark is in the news," reports J.A.R.V.I.S.

They both know what it means. Scandal. They run into the living room and turn on the television.

"Oh no…” says Lily.

She doesn't know what surprises her the most, her father driving a race car or the man with two energy whips trying to hurt him. Although her father got the Iron Man armor in time and was able to contain the villain, Lily knows that something else is going on and the comments from others don’t help. They all allude to Tony's opinión that the new technology that he invented no one else would have for a long time, and now an unknown man has succeeded.

***

Lily turns when someone knocks on her bedroom door. She smiles when she sees the colonel.

"Uncle Rhodey!" She squeals and runs to hug him. The man receives the hug with a smile.

"I hope you always receive me like this, Lily.”

"I can do it,” She replies as they part.

Rhodes sees the room now painted sky blue, some paintings as decoration, with each color and furniture it’s quite obvious that Lily was the one who chose everything, especially noting the vibrant colors that don’t match the rest.

"I like what you did with your room.”

"Thanks. Look!” She takes his hand and leads him to her desk. "I found a video of how to make the Iron Man reactor shape out of cardboard," She explains, pointing to the process.

Rhodes laughs heartily. It’s not the most accurate model in the world, but it is really impressive that Lily is already so detailed in her creations.

"Will you give it to Tony on his birthday?"

She nods. "Do you think he’ll like it?"

"I'm sure. This is pretty good,” He agrees. "How are you doing in school?"

"Good. It's kind of boring, but my teachers seem to have fun when I understand things quickly,” She shrugs.

"You should be happy too.”

"I guess, but… I don't know."

Rhodes frowns.

"I know that face, it's the same as Tony does. What's wrong?"

She turns to face him.

“I want to do more things, but everyone says I can't. Everything is dangerous or someone else can see me. I feel like those dolls trapped in a toy house.”

Rhodes sighs.

"I wish I could have a better answer,” He crouches down to look at her. “But all I can tell you is that it’ll be better once you’re older. I'm sure we'll have better options,” Lily seems disappointed with his words. The man makes a face. Then he comes up with something. “How about I talk to your father to start a little self-defense class? Do you remember the movies we saw?"

"That would be great!" She says smiling.

For James Rhodes, this made sense. He knows that Lily is still very young, but he also knows that Tony's world is very unpredictable, especially with what happened in Monaco. It would be a great opportunity for her to at least know how to defend herself.

"Well, I'll talk to him,” He says getting up.

“Oh, tell him that Natalie can teach me something! She promised!”

He looks at her confused, but doesn't take it too seriously.

“Okay… Do you know where your father is?"

"In the workshop, I'll take you,” She takes Rhodes's hand and they both walk towards the stairs of the workshop, but a corridor before Jarvis interrupts.

"Incoming call for Miss Stark.”

"Kid, I need you to do me a favor,” Tony’s voice says.

"What's going on?" She asks releasing Rhodes's hand.

"Do you remember the little screen I have to play with?" Although the last use of it was to infiltrate Senate screens, she usually uses it to play games.

“Aha..”

“It’s in my room. I want you to bring it.”

"Why don't you go get it?" Rhodes intervenes, annoyed.

"I'm busy— Wait, how long have you been here, Rhodey?"

"We need to talk.”

“I don't like that tone. Kid?"

"I'm coming!”

The girl goes to look for the screen while Rhodey follows the path to the workshop, ignoring Natalie's warning when he passes by the room where she’s with Pepper.

Rhodes walks into the shop, finding Tony looking at his projector for some files on him while he's sitting in one of his cars.

“Tony, you gotta get upstairs and get on top of this situation right now. And what’s that about, sending Lily to look for your toys?"

Tony doesn't respond, further exasperating the colonel.

“Listen. I've been on the puts with the National Guard on the day, trying to talk them out of rolling tanks up the PCH, knocking down your front door and taking these,” He says, pointing to the other armor prototypes. “They’re gonna take your suits, Tony. Okay? They’re sick of the games. You said nobody else would possess this technology for 20 years. Well, guess what? Somebody else had it yesterday.”

He walks towards him.

“It’s not theoretical anymore. And now can you imagine how all this would affect Lily? If the National Guard or anyone else in the government finds out about her, they’ll take her away without hesitation and they’ll all be against you. All this time you've kept her locked up, but you don't mind acting in a way that could affect her in the future.”

He stops at the side of the car.

“Are you listening to me?" He grabs his arm to get his attention. Tony is pale and tired. "Are you Okay?"

"Let's go,” answers Tony getting out of the car, but when he closes the door, he loses strength and almost falls to the ground. Rhodes helps him by holding him up.

"You all right?" He asks worried.

"Yeah, I should get to my desk,” They both walk with difficulty. "See that cigar box?" Rhodes nods. "It's palladium,” The colonel puts him on a chair and opens the box, revealing small blocks of material.

Tony pulls the reactor out of his chest and opens it, causing a block of Palladium to come out with some smoke.

"Is that supposed to be smoking?"

“If you must know, it's neutron damage. It's from the reactor wall,” explains Tony. Rhodes helps him switch blocks.

"You had this in your body?" Tony turns around. "And how about the high-tech crossword puzzle on your neck?" He points out.

"Road rash,” Tony puts the reactor back on as Rhodey watches him. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at you. You wanna do this whole lone gunslinger act and it's unnecessary. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“You know, I wish I could believe that. I really do. But you've gotta trust me. Contrary to popular belief, I know exactly what I'm doing."

"And what about Lily?" Rhodes asks. "Are you also hiding all this from her or what excuse do you give her?" He says thinking that Lily notices many details, especially about her father.

“Makeup isn't just for women, Rhodes. Update yourself, and she doesn't know about the Palladium, she doesn't need to know.”

"Will you hide everything she shouldn't know from her?"

“It's called protection. Something that you’ve asked me to do for her many times.”

"I don't think that lying is the solution.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

"Miss Stark is coming, sir," Jarvis warns.

Rhodes now understands Tony's request for the toy.

Someone enters the code to enter. Both men are silent. Tony hides the cigar box. Lily runs up to him and gives him the screen.

“Your room is messier than mine. It took me centuries to find it,” She complains.

"Thanks, kid.”

Lily watches Rhodes.

"What were you talking about?" She says tilting her head a little towards the colonel. Rhodey remembers his promise. He smiles.

"We haven't talked about your stuff yet, Lily.”

"What did I miss?" Tony asks.

"I think it's a good idea for Lily to take self-defense classes."

"With Natalie,” adds the girl.

Tony sighs.

Taglist:

@silenthappyplace @yourbonesareinmybody @aylauwuuniverse @skittles-skittles @hufflepuffzutara @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs @heavenlymistakes @my-love-of-books @dielgonacoffee

#Iron #Peter parker fanfction #Peter parker #Peter parker x oc #Peter parker x reader #avengers #avengers fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #Tony Stark #Lily Stark #Stark! reader #Pepper Potts #James Rhodes #Iron Man 2 #Spider man

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bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 07 - Mattias and Halima

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday on (link)

Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting.

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It was just before sunset when they reached Arendelle. Mattias' timing had been correct. They rode right through the upper rock gate and all the splendour of their homeland opened before them. When they left two days ago they still had the journey ahead of them and did not look back. But now they had Arendelle in front of them and the view from up here was overwhelming. The fields on the mountain slopes glowed in intense colours, from the gold of the wheat, through rich green and yellow of different crops for humans and animals, to a bright mixture of colours from the many fields of flowers used for decoration and for sale in shops and at the market. In the harbour the ships and boats rocked in the soft, warm breeze and behind the majestic castle of the royal family, bathed in the orange light of the setting sun, the calm waters of the Arenfjord glittered.

Mattias could not tear himself away from the sight and gently brought his horse to a halt. Halima did the same and looked over to him. He had a dreamy expression on his face and she had to smile. She could understand his feelings, as harvest time was approaching and his homeland showed itself to him in all its beauty and fertility. She was looking forward to the harvest festival. This time they would celebrate it together.

Finally they rode up slowly and they heard the bell at the clock tower in the distance strike seven times. On the way down they passed Halima's cozy little cottage and they reined the horses. Mattias jumped boldly out of the saddle and walked around the horse to help Halima get off.

“Mattias! You jump off your horse as if you were still the lieutenant from back then. Remember that you are not young anymore. You could easily sprain your ankle,” she said laughing and shook her head over his exuberance.

He grinned and helped her dismount. “Don't worry, dearest, I'm not that old.” They held each other in their arms and looked at one another in love. Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Then he kissed her tenderly and she lifted one foot in rapture.

When they separated again he gave her a last short kiss on her cheek as a farewell. “I have to ride to the castle now to take care of everything before nightfall. I will see you later. I'll pick you up for dinner.”

“All right, darling. I'll just go down to the library and drop off some books. I'd forgotten to bring them back before we left. I hope it's still open. I'll see you later.”

He got back on his horse, put the other one on a leash and waved to her as he rode off. She waved back and gazed after him till he vanished behind the next corner of the houses. Then she went inside to get the books.

~~~

As he had passed through the castle gate, he handed the horses over to a stable boy who was just passing by, and was about to go through the front door of the castle when the captain of the guard approached him.

“General Mattias. May I have a word, please?” He saluted him and Mattias nodded.

“What's it, Captain Einar?”

“Well, I ... am a little confused. I see you, but where are the queen and her fiancé? Has something happened?” His gaze showed a mixture of amazement and concern, but Mattias also noticed a slight hint of anger on his face.

“You have nothing to worry about. She is well and she is still with her sister, Elsa. She'll be back in two days.”

“With all due respect, Sir, but you left without any protection from her guards and now you're returning alone? That's-“

“Irresponsible, you mean?” Mattias gruffly interrupted the young, overzealous captain of the royal guard. But he looked at him favorably. “She is in the best of hands with Elsa, no bodyguard in the world could protect her better than she. Have you forgotten what she did last autumn to save us all from the flood? Well ...?” He looked at him, waiting.

The captain became a little pale around the nose and stuttered, unsure what to answer, “Um ... yes, well ... in that sense, of course, you're right, Sir, I just thought I ... I mean ...”

“That's all right, Captain Einar. You're just doing your duty and being very observant, that's fine. Keep up the good work. But if you'll excuse me now, I have important business to attend to.” Mattias turned and left the captain stood speechless.

~~~

Of course, it had only been half the truth and he had to lie partly; Mattias thought, but in this situation it was necessary not to tell the captain everything.

In the following hour he called together some of the older councillors who were still faithfully carrying out their duties in Queen Elsa's time and informed them of the precarious situation. He instructed everyone to keep it under wraps and to treat the matter as confidential. Everyone agreed without reservation. On most faces there was great concern and some asked about the condition of their Queen Anna. He answered their questions in concise words, but made it clear to them that a lengthy discussion would have to wait until their return.

He then went to the royal physician and asked him to prepare everything necessary and to look for answers for Elsa's condition. He did not need to tell a doctor about his duty of confidentiality. The physician nodded and hurried away to look for precedents in his textbooks.

Finally, only one thing remained to be done. He had to find two reliable people to accompany him and he already knew who.

When he stepped outside again it had already become dark and the courtyard was bathed in the flickering light of the fire bowls and some big torches. He had fresh horses brought and rode to his home. However, on the way he stopped briefly to visit two of his old comrades who were locked up with him in the Enchanted Forest. He could trust them absolutely. Among them was a woman who was supposed to take care of suitable camouflage clothes for Elsa. He gave the man the order to get an inconspicuous wagon, some ranged weapons, food and everything else for such an action. Both of them did not ask any questions and immediately took care of this responsible task, with the intention not to arouse any suspicion.

Arriving at home, he threw on fresh clothes suitable for a dinner. After his return last autumn he had to take care of a completely new wardrobe, because he simply did not fit into the old clothes anymore. He always took care of a tidy appearance, especially now, because of Halima. He took one last look in the mirror before leaving the house again.

~~~

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The host cleared away the leftovers of their dinner while they leaned back contentedly. He enquired how it had tasted to them.

“That was delicious,” enthused Halima, smiling at the host and wiped the corner of her mouth with the tip of a napkin. “Compliments to the cook,” she added as he left. Her eyes lit up at Mattias, who rubbed his belly with satiation.

“I must have overdone it a bit with the portion,” he giggled and reached for his glass of red wine. “To your health, Halima.”

“To us, Mattias,” she said as she lifted her glass, toasting with him, while they looked each other in the eyes.

A short time later, they went for their walk, as previously planned. It was a starry night and Arenfjord glittered silvery in the bright moonlight. Down in the village all the lanterns were lit and from up here you could see that the taverns were very busy, now and then even the laughter of some guests came up here.

“How did it go at the castle?” Halima asked abruptly.

“Good. Everything is arranged and prepared. All is according to plan.”

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Before sunrise. On the one hand, we gain some time, because of the vehicle and on the other hand, there is hardly anyone on the streets and we will probably come out unnoticed.” He paused. “How was it with you? Was the library still open?”

“Yes, barely. Mr. Oddvar was just about to close, but I was able to return the books.”

They sat down in the grass and Mattias put an arm around her. Halima looked at him and then rested her head on his shoulder. They both remained silent and enjoyed their romantic evening on the hill above Arendelle for a long time.

~~~

Kristoff had woken up in the middle of the night because Anna was snoring loudly. It was still dark so he closed his eyes again. How would it be once they were married and he would have to sleep in their bed from now on; he thought. Then he grinned. He hadn't known that about Anna yet.

He recalled last night before his inner eyes. They had talked for a long time about what Anna had seen, and he had tried to convince her that what she had observed did not necessarily have to be true. Perhaps this impression was troubling. At some point she had calmed down again and he went out to get them both a warm dinner, which they then consumed silently inside the hut.

Afterwards she had prepared herself for the night while he turned his back on her for decency. She did not want to sleep alone and asked him to lie beside her. Inside the kota it was quite warm and so he asked if she would mind if he took off his thick leather tunic. She grinned at him and shook her head. It hadn't taken long then and she snuggled up comfortably against him. Through her thin nightdress he felt her warmth on his naked upper body, his hand lay light and tenderly above her waist. He enjoyed feeling her closeness in this way. Her slender, warm body seemed so fragile at this moment, but he knew that it was not so. If she wanted to, she could unleash an unimagined strength, not to mention her willpower and her sometimes almost unbearable pig-headedness. But at the moment all he felt was her softness and warm breath on his chest, her gentle hand on his back and her hair tickling his cheek. Sometimes she hummed softly and contentedly when she moved.

Finally her breath became more regular and she fell asleep. This night could last forever if he had his way; he thought, if only there wasn't this little thing that she snores such like she does now. But at some point he got so tired that it didn't bother him anymore and he fell back asleep with a broad smile on his face.

~~~

It was already after midnight when Honeymaren stepped out of Elsa's kota and almost silently closed the flap behind her. Elsa had fallen asleep at some point and she didn't want to wake her up.

She looked up and watched the twinkling stars in the cloudless night sky. The moon had already set and so she was now standing there in deep black darkness. “Crap,” she whispered softly to herself and turned towards her own kota by feeling. She knew that she would also find the way blindly and it was not far away. Nevertheless, she moved forward very carefully, one arm stretched out in front of her, to notice trees or a hut in time.

She finally reached the kota and listened. An unmistakable snoring told her that she was standing in front of the right hut. Her parents had certainly wondered where she was again, but it was extremely rare that she was so late. Silently she opened the flap and crept in. She groped her way to her sleeping place, unbuckled her belt and pulled the tunic over her head. Then she lay down, sighed quietly and soon fell into sleep like a rock.

~~~

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At sunrise Yelana left the camp and made a long walk to a kota far away. She hadn't been here for a long time and when she finally stood in front of the hut, it immediately struck her that it had seen better days before. The wood was heavily weathered and there were open gaps between the boards in some places. Nobody had repaired or renewed anything here for a long time. She opened the flap and stepped in. In the middle of the kota sat an elderly woman who was busy with a handicraft.

“Hello, Gyda.”

“Don't call me that, Yelana. You know very well I hate that nickname.” She did not even look up when she answered in a dark and powerful voice, but continued to care for her traditional duodji. She just made one of the belts as they all wore it over the tunic here in camp. However, certain details onto it told Yelana that this belt was meant for an unmarried Northuldra.

“Well, Gyríðr, but don't you think we're both a bit old for this kind of subtlety?”

Gyda looked up briefly, swung her head back and forth in a judgmental manner and then continued with the work indifferent. Yelana took a look around the dwelling. It was full of old traditional items, including a richly decorated rare gievriej, a very old sacred shaman drum, as the noaidi used to use it for their rituals. This was long before the People of the Sun moved here near by Ahtohallan and the fifth Spirit was chosen among them. All that remained of the old tradition was the soul song of her tribe. But this one here must have been made by Gyda.

Yelana looked at her again. She had become a very old woman, the deep wrinkles in her face showed her long life experience as wife of the fifth spirit. But it was also evident that she was still troubled by the fact that he had rejected her at that time and that she was losing her high position in the tribe on those days. At some point she retreated to this place and since then she had lived as a hermit. Afterwards she only had contact to the tribe through the few Northuldra that brought her food to survive. In return, she voluntarily made traditional clothing and therefore was provided with leather, fabric and all the other things that were necessary.

Yelana didn't know everything that was going on that time then, but she needed to know if Gyda had a child with him and could somehow hide it. She cleared her throat distinctly. “There have been disturbing events and I have an important inquiry.”

Gyda didn't respond.

“Please!”

The elder woman paused and finally put her tools aside.

“Ask.”

“Had the fifth spirit begotten a progeny with you?”

Gyda gave a short, dry laugh. “Are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten what happened back then?”

Yelana tightened her eyebrows. “No, of course not. But you've been living so far out here for so long that nobody notices anything, even if you're pregnant, if you know how to hide it. I need to know, and also who helped you.”

“Even if it were, what do you care?” Gyda picked up her tools again.

“Wait. Please listen to me.” Yelana sat down and told her everything, including her suspicion that Gyda's child might be responsible. Gyda listened to her attentively and asked no questions, only her gaze grew increasingly darkened. At the end she nodded and after a little while of consideration she finally answered quietly.

“Yes, I had a child with him, a boy. I gave him the name Kolgrimr.” She hesitated, but then continued, “I was already pregnant when he abandoned me because I was no longer good enough for him and could no longer perform my duties as he expected of me to. You surely remember what he was like, how ruthless and pressing. But I wanted to protect my unborn child.” She interrupted herself and took a deep breath. “I gave birth to the child some time later and Jonna helped me with. Then this king came from the south and all these strangers started to build this dam and ...,” she faltered and looked sadly to the ground. “Sometime after the completion of this stony monster, he finally came back to me and told me something about a fraud and that the land was dying and the reindeer were suffering. He was so excited and angry, I can still remember it like it was yesterday.”

“What happened next?” asked Yelana when Gyda lost herself in memories and did not continue speaking immediately.

“He took Kolgrimr from me. Said he had to make sure that his descendant would take over when he himself was no longer around. I didn't know what he meant then and I tried to stop him, but without success. I never saw him again and later heard that he was killed in his human form. Shortly afterwards the sun darkened and this fog came. You know the rest of the story.”

“Yes, and Jonna also died fighting with the men of this dreadful king. I knew her quite well. I just don't understand why she never told me about it.”

“Because she had to promise to me not to tell anybody.”

Yelana understood and nodded. She felt pity for her, grabbed Gyda by the arm and said, “I'm very sorry for you, Gy- ... Gyríðr. No one knew about your child, and none of us wanted you living here alone. None of us ever really got it right.”

“It's not our folks' fault, I know. It was my own decision and I had my reasons.”

“Have you ever seen your son again?”

Gyda looked up. Then she slowly and sadly shook her head, “No. He's probably long dead, too.”

When Yelana later returned to the camp, she first went to her kota and thought things over thoroughly. One thing led to another and slowly a picture formed itself in her mind. It was time to make a decision, one that was very tough for her. And so she got up and walked out.

~~~

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I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know.

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #chapter 07 #bigfrozenfan

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notsowrites · 4 years ago

Text

the heart i know

Alex misses Michael terribly while he's off on an roadtrip with his siblings.

This idea has been knocking around in my head for a while, and somehow ballooned into 6500 words.

(AO3 Link)

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Despite living in a house with three brothers growing up, Alex had always felt alone. His time in the Air Force had never dissuaded him of that feeling, even as he was constantly surrounded by others. Part of him knew it was the secrets he'd kept, the parts he'd been unable to speak freely about, show the world his whole truth. Buying the house in Roswell after his accident, he'd dedicated time to trying to make it into a home.

But even as he filled it with music and books, and decorated the rooms exactly how he wanted for the first time in his life, he couldn't deny that it felt as though something was missing. An emptiness still lingered through the walls, and though Alex loved this place that was all his own, it wasn't quite home yet.

It wasn't until after - after he'd dated Forrest, after he and Michael had spent months carefully navigating a tentative friendship, after they'd slowly and carefully fallen back together, after Michael had begun to spend more nights sleeping next to Alex than not - that Alex started to truly enjoy the space he'd once carved out for himself.

In his study, against the wall opposite his own desk set up for days when he works from home, is a drafting table covered in sketch paper and notebooks filled with calculations. The sight never fails to make Alex smile, to fill him with a sense of pride for the way Michael's mind works, how he is able to conceptualize and design things, and turn them into a reality. The bookshelves in the room now hold more than just Alex's coding textbooks, and the random literary novels he's acquired when he's had free moments to read, but mathematics and physics, books on environmental science and agriculture that Alex would never have dreamed of owning or reading.

There's a black Stetson that regularly hangs from the hook in the hallway near the front door, a pair of well worn cowboy boots are usually nestled on the floor next to his own work boots. And though he'll never admit it out loud, opening the door to the hallway closet basks him in the familiar and comforting smell of rain that accompanies everything Michael owns.

Before, the most he'd ever left sitting out on the kitchen table had been his laptop, now there are notebooks full of Michael's handwriting that regularly disappear and reappear usually occupying the space at the far end.

In the living room, the blanket he'd kept meticulously folded on the back of the couch rarely ends up that way these days, instead thrown haphazardly after an impromptu nap. Though it's usually Michael who dozes on the couch because he'd been watching and listening to Alex play on the keyboard or trying to work out a new chord progression for a song. He wonders if it should bother him, the way Michael drifts off during those times, but it never does.

The kitchen remains immaculate, save for one new notebook shoved in between the cutting boards that sit neatly against the back splash - Michael's recipe book. Each time he finds some new dish to try, he scribbles the ingredients and the instructions down for reference, though Alex has never seen the notebook open while Michael is cooking. As if he's already committed the entire thing to memory.

But one of the best reminders in the entire house that shows Alex how much this isn't just where he lives and rested his head at night, but is a home he shares with the person he loves, is the modifications to the bathroom. When he'd bought the house, Alex had immediately installed a grab bar and purchased a cheap little bench he could sit on - enough to make do in the shower, but never anything more than functional of their intended purpose. It had been the renovations that Michael had undertaken, designing a more comfortable bench, and a much more accessible grab bar system, that allowed Alex to truly begin to enjoy taking showers, no longer feeling like they were just a necessary, but also something to relax him after a long tiring day on base.

He sits at the dining room table now, setting up the new computer he's purchased for Michael. Of course he'd been unable to stick to a budget, too concerned with making sure Michael had the best for the work he was going to be doing on it. Alex had asked, of course, after realizing that Michael was often just using the browser on his cell phone to search for things, and sticking to pen and paper for everything else. Michael had hemmed and hawed, claimed he didn't need one, and Alex had gotten him one morning, after they'd woken each other up with lazy blow jobs, to admit how much easier his own computer could make things.

Alex misses him terribly.

"I feel pathetic," he'd admitted to Maria three days into Michael's trip with Max, Isobel, and Liz.

"You wanna come over?" She'd asked, taking pity on him. "We can just cozy on the sofa and watch cheesy romcoms and gorge on junk food."

He appreciated the offer, and almost took her up on it. The problem was, the trip Michael had taken didn't have a defined timeline. It all hinged on what they found up in following some clues that led North regarding the UFO crash and it's survivors. Alex had tried to go with him, hadn't wanted to be so far away in case something went wrong, but when his PTO request was denied due to insufficient notice, he'd relented after Michael had convinced him he'd check in every day.

But now it’s been three days since the time they’d spoken, and Alex is starting to worry. He’d resisted during the first twelve hours, convincing himself Michael just hadn’t found a moment alone. The remaining twenty four had been agony, especially when there’s been no answer on anyone’s cell phone - Michael, Isobel, Liz, and Max’s all had gone to voicemail in the end.

"He'll call," Maria had said when he'd told her. "Perhaps there's no signal where they are."

He'd been surprised, given her own ancestral ties to the crash, that she'd elected to stay in Roswell. But Maria had gently reminded him that she was more concerned about Mimi than road trips with no definitive answers, and she had a business to run - sometimes personal trips just had to be sacrificed.

So he occupies himself with setting up the new programs on Michael's computer, making sure it all runs smoothly for when he returns, and buries himself in work projects to pass the time, and tries to not think something went wrong and that's why Michael hasn't gotten in touch.

"We're on our way back," Michael greets him in the first conversation they've had in thirty six hours. "We ran into some problems, so I can't talk long, but we're maybe four-"

"Six!" Alex hears Liz shout in the background.

"-hours away, and there's nothing stopping me from coming right to you."

Alex looks at the clock, and how it's after midnight now, which means it'll be well into the morning hours before Michael is walking through the front door.

"I know you'll probably be tired-"

Michael scoffs, laughing and it's the most wonderful sound Alex has heard in days.

"Tell those bastards you're going to be late."

Alex smiles. "I might not leave at all then."

It's tempting to think about, calling out to spend the entire day with Michael instead. But he has three meetings scheduled, none of which he can get out of short of being on a ventilator. But it will mean that when he gets home in the afternoon, Michael will be there.

He reluctantly falls asleep after that, curled up on Michael's side of the bed, face buried in the pillow that no matter how many times it gets washed, always smells exactly like Michael. It doesn't make Alex miss him any less, but it's been his only comfort these last couple days.

When his alarm goes off several hours later, Alex stubbornly doesn't think about how he woke up alone again. He takes his morning shower on autopilot, wanting to go through the motions enough so that he can just come home to Michael. Breakfast is coffee and cereal, same as it's been every day Michael has been gone, because while Alex is able to cook for himself when he has to - recipes are not that hard to follow - he prefers Michael's cooking. A voice in his head tells him it's just because it means he doesn't have to, but that's not it. He loves watching Michael experiment with things, adding spices or flavors that he never would have dreamed of, and everything still tasting delicious. He'd tried not to be too surprised the first time he’d watched Michael cook for him, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Did you learn from one of the people you lived with?*

Michael had shaken his head, concentrating on the vegetables he'd been chopping up.

"Sanders was the first one who took an interest. After I started working for him, sometimes I'd crash on his couch, and he'd cook me breakfast in the morning. First time someone didn't make me feel like I was an imposition."

Alex's heart always broke hearing about what it had been like for Michael growing up. To not have any memories of happier times, but believing they existed and surviving on that hope. He's often wondered since if there was a way to retrieve the memories that Max, Isobel, and Michael couldn't remember. Particularly after learning about Nora and Louise, and how hard they'd tried to protect their children. His own childhood hadn't always been bad, there had been some good moments, memories from before his mom left when it had felt like they had been something akin to a happy family. It was only after she left when things had changed.

It’s that fear now, of possibly turning into a monster like his father, that keeps Alex from entertaining the possibility of a family. Neither he or Michael have brought it up, and Alex wonders if it’s because they’re both too scared of repeating the unpleasantness of their childhoods. Part of him knows, believes, that he would never turn into the monster that his father was, but fear isn’t always rational, and it doesn’t always make sense, Alex knows that. Maybe one day he’ll believe it too.

Because deep down, he wants it. He wants to marry Michael some day. He's had part of a proposal written since he was seventeen, when he was younger and more naive. There's never been anyone else who made him fell so fast and hard, but Alex doesn't care.

He continues on autopilot as he goes about his day, making the commute to the base, attending his meetings, going over a project that's currently in development for the land the Air Force had purchased from the Foster's several years prior - delayed because of funding and approval issues. He skips lunch, trying to make it through the day faster, and spends most of his last meeting staring at the clock in the corner of his laptop screen.

The drive home is excruciating - it feels longer than it ever has before. There's no new text messages, no missed calls, no voicemails, and Alex tries not to think about how it's probably only because Michael was exhausted. Hopefully he fell asleep the moment he hit the bed, and that's where he's going to find Michael when he gets home.

It's just been two extremely long weeks.

He toes his boots off inside the front door, and drapes his jacket on the hook. There's a black duffel laying near one of the chairs at the dining table, and Alex lets out a sigh of relief. He wastes no time pushing open the bedroom door, greeted by darkness because Michael has all the curtains pulled tight to keep out the sun. He closes the door behind him and pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it in the middle of the floor as he makes his way to the bathroom, flipping on a light. Inside, he partially closes the door and removes his pants, sitting down on the window seat to remove his prosthetic. There's a crutch leaning against the wall, one of the places Michael is always diligent in making sure to place one of his spares. The stress of the past several days has traveled all through his body, and Alex feels it acutely in his hip, and around his stump, which feels extra sensitive to pressure as he removes the liner. He debates the merits of drawing a bath, letting himself relax and let the tension melt away - but it would mean delaying being near, and getting to touch, Michael again for the first time in two weeks, and he decides against it.

Crutch nestled under his elbow, Alex makes his way back into the bedroom, naked except for his boxers, and crawls into bed, letting his crutch fall to the floor. He lets his hands sweep up Michael's legs, past his hips and stomach - a thrill traveling through his body that Michael had fallen asleep naked and ready for him - body following as Alex leans down to place feather light kisses to Michael's skin. He continues upward, pressing his face into Michael's neck, breathing in that familiar and comforting rain smell, his whole body relaxing in response. Alex presses a kiss to somewhere along Michael's jawline, before feeling Michael's arms move, wrapping around him, and pulling their bodies tightly together, indicating he’s awake too.

Without a word, just Michael pushing up to try and find his lips, kisses landing on his cheek, and neck, before finding his lips, Alex feels as he lets go of his hold, and Michael's hand brushes against him. He shifts a bit, so Michael doesn't have to try and squeeze his hand between their bodies, and reaches down, taking Michael in his hand. It's rough, just skin on skin, and Alex knows that friction can't feel good. He pauses, leaning back, and retrieving the bottle of lube from the nightstand where he'd left it during Michael's absence. Carefully he coats his hand, recapping the lid, and reaching back down, fingers wrapped around Michael again as he runs his thumb over the head, which makes Michael moan so so beautifully, and Alex wonders if he'd even touched himself at all during the trip, if he'd been alone long enough to. He jerks Michael off, keeping his face pressed against the side of Michael's neck until Michael is shifting, turning his head and pressing his open mouth against Alex's. He quickens the pace, sensing Michael is close, and pushes his other hand into Michael's curls, pulling at them slightly, but causing the desired effect as Michael thrusts up to meet his hand, and Alex slows his pace, letting him ride it out, pressing kisses to Michael's cheek as he settles back against the pillows.

"Welcome home," Alex whispers, nuzzling against Michael’s cheek, reveling in the contact.

“I told you I’d make it back.”

Alex lets Michael press their lips together, before watching as he slides out from underneath him, pushing up off the bed and heading into the bathroom. Alex only moves as far enough to sit up, his eyes never leaving Michael, watching as he moves around, grabbing a washcloth from the closet, and running it under the hot water.

Finally, thanks to the light of the bathroom, Alex gets a good look at Michael, and immediately sits up in bed, blinking hard at the sight. Michael’s body is covered in bruises -most of them are on his abdomen and back, and Alex is pretty sure there’s a cut on his cheek below his left eye.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Alex yells out, suddenly pissed off that Michael hadn’t said anything, Alex had put his hands on those bruises, they had to have hurt.

Michael pauses, looking down at himself like just realizing the bruises are there, before glancing back at Alex, shrugging his shoulders, and Alex tries to maintain his composure. It’s not going to do him any good to get angry at Michael.

“Turns out the people we were looking for were actually looking for Jones. They saw Max, and wouldn’t believe that he was someone else.”

“And Liz and Isobel-”

“They’re fine - it’s only me and Max who get to look like this. The girls had stayed at the hotel the night this happened - or well, the two days we were missing afterward.”

“Missing?” Alex is seething now, understanding the reasoning behind the fact that he hadn’t been able to get in touch with Michael or anyone else for several days. “Did you forget you have telekinetic powers?”

Michael smiles at him, making his way back into the bedroom, and leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead. It doesn’t do anything to calm Alex down, but he appreciates that Michael knows he needs the physical contact of some kind in this moment.

“They had some sort of serum, something similar I’m guessing to what Helena Ortecho dosed me with when she wanted me to build the atomizer. Rendered me powerless for almost two days. Max too.” Michael slides back onto the bed, and Alex immediately leans forward, hands carefully running across the skin, careful to avoid all the places where Michael has bruises and cuts.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Michael doesn’t reply, and turns away from him, running a hand through his curls, and Alex watches as they slowly fall back into place.

“I don’t want to hurt you-”

“You didn’t-”

Alex glares at him, and thankfully Michael doesn’t finish his sentence.

“Because you would have stopped touching me, and I didn’t-” Michael sighs, reaching out and taking Alex’s hand. He lets him, adjusting so their fingers are intertwined, and watches as Michael presses a kiss to the back of his hand. “Because it’s been two weeks, and nothing these past two weeks has felt as good as your hands on me.”

“Michael.”

Alex takes a deep breath, and barely lets the idea form in his mind, knowing that he’ll overthink it and talk himself out of it if he does. He pushes himself up, maneuvering on the bed, until he’s straddling Michael’s lap, legs wrapped around his hips. Alex digs his hands into Michael’s hair, and pulls their lips together, foreheads gently knocking against one another. The feeling of them pressing together, only the thin layer of his own boxers in the way makes Alex grind down harder, needing the touch.

Michael flips them, so Alex is underneath him, but his legs still wrapped around Michael’s hips, pulling them close together, and Alex laughs into Michael’s chest as he leans over him and retrieves the bottle of lube from earlier. Alex watches, as patiently as he can, as Michael stands up, pulling his boxers down and squirting some onto his hand, coating his fingers, before reaching down and with one finger pressing into Alex.

It has been too long as he pushes down into the contact, hands gripping into the sheets of the bed as Michael adds another finger, using just the tiniest bit of force to open him up. And Alex can’t look away, can’t stare at anything except Michael’s face, and the focus in his eyes in how he’s touching Alex. He feels Michael press in one more finger, and while he appreciates the care Michael is putting into making sure he’s ready, Alex finds that he doesn’t care, he just needs, needs-

Michael’s fingers slide out, and Alex groans at the loss, before Michael is lining himself up and pushing forward, and Alex wraps his legs around Michael’s hips again, urging him forward, filling him up. For a moment, they stay like that, Michael buried inside him, and Alex reaches up, grabbing hold of Michael’s shoulders, his neck, and finally his face, and pulling him down into a desperate crush of their lips before he feels Michael pull out, almost all the way but still inside him and holding him open, before thrusting back in. When Michael hits that spot inside him that sends him wild, Alex can’t do anything except bury his teeth into the junction where Michael’s neck meets his shoulder, the rain smell that is so very Michael all he can focus on, before he reaches down and takes himself in hand, leaning into the tightness he can feel forming, his orgasm inching closer now.

Michael’s orgasm hits first as he continues to thrust forward, dropping his head to Alex’s chest with a muffled groan, as Alex continues to jerk himself off, feeling his own orgasm grow, but the friction is too much, and it’s wrong, and as he slows down his movements, he feels Michael’s hand cover his own, and Alex pulls back, watching as Michael takes over. It doesn’t take long, Alex has spent too many nights dreaming about Michael’s hands on him, and it’s as Michael thumb brushes across the tip that Alex lets go, moaning out his own climax into the curls on top of Michael’s head, fingertips pressed into the skin of Michael’s back.

He pulls Michael down into him, their bodies pressed tight, and Alex keeps his legs wrapped tight around him, one hand digging into his curls as they both breath deep and heavy, coming down from their highs.

It takes another couple minutes before Michael is pushing himself up, and pulling Alex with him, and Alex realizes too late, Michael is carrying him into the bathroom. He doesn’t protest as Michael carefully sets him down next to the shower, and Alex gracefully falls onto the bench, leaning forward and turning the water on, watching as Michael disappears back into the bedroom, returning moments later with his crutch. Alex uses this opportunity to clean himself up, removing the remaining evidence from his skin, letting his fingers dance across Michael’s skin as he watches him do the same.

They dry off, Michael double checking his crutch is within reach, before pressing their lips together one more time, and disappearing back out into the bedroom. He returns a moment later with boxers, and a t-shirt, leaving them on the sink for Alex to get to, and disappears again back into the bedroom again.

By the time Alex has put on the boxers, and pulled the t-shirt over his head, Michael is standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of black boxers, and his hair is towel dried enough that it’s wet, but not dripping onto the floor.

“Dinner?” Michael asks, and all Alex can focus on is the cut next to Michael’s left eye. It’s already in the healing stages, clearly having been received several days earlier, but it’s entire presence makes Alex angry. “I wasn’t thinking anything too complicated, maybe fajitas? If we have the ingredients, since I’m sure you haven’t cooked anything while I’ve been gone.”

Alex scoffs at him. “I went shopping yesterday.”

He takes his time getting dressed, and fishing out one of Michael’s clean work shirts from the dresser, pushing him arms into the sleeves, pressing his nose into the fabric. He’s always amazed at how well the rain smell persists, but it’s comforting, and it makes him feel like he’s surrounded by Michael even in those moments he’s not. He stands in the middle of the bedroom, debating whether or not to put his prosthetic back on, eventually deciding against it - they’re not going anywhere else tonight, and the idea of wrangling with it when they’re just going to end up going back to bed in a few hours isn’t appealing to him at all.

By the time he makes it out into the main room, standing at the foot of the dining room table, Michael, who has slipped into Alex’s Air Force hoodie so he’s not walking around shirtless, has already spread out the necessary ingredients on the counter in the kitchen. There’s a pan on the stove, and Michael is concentrating on slicing the steak into strips, the vegetables from the crisper waiting to be cut up next. Alex doesn’t pay too much attention to the specifics of the cooking, and glances down at the table, only to notice Michael’s regular notebooks are missing, though the laptop that is his gift is exactly where he left it.

Alex watches, transfixed, as Michael scribbles something into one of those notebooks, and then retrieves his cooking notebook from it’s spot against the wall, writing something down in that as well. The way Michael moves, Alex can’t even begin to imagine what his thought process is like to be able to shift around constantly like he does, one idea after another flowing through his mind, needing to be captured and saved.

As far as he can tell, Michael hasn’t seen him yet. Which is fine, because Alex is more than happy in this moment to enjoy watching him, reveling in how comfortable Michael looks. He thinks of the drafting table in the study, and two vehicles parked in the garage, and Michael’s clothes with their own space in the dressers, and in the closet, and can’t look away from Michael in the kitchen, cooking and looking very much like this is his home. And Alex thinks of every time Michael has told him about not belonging, about not feeling wanted, and about how often he’d been shuffled around the system, and something tightens in Alex’s chest.

Years ago, he’d seen this beautiful, handsome boy who made his heart beat just a little bit faster, and offered him a warm place to sleep at night. A boy who had stood up for him when no one else would, who had without hesitation put himself between Alex and danger time and time again. Who looked at Alex like he was the only person in the world that mattered, and Alex has always wondered if he’s worthy of that love, of that devotion. But Michael has never looked at him any other way, even in their worst moments, during the arguments and the fighting - Alex has never doubted that Michael loved him. Because while Alex knows he’s always had trouble verbalizing his feelings, Michael has always been one to stand tall and declare them in the most beautiful ways.

And Alex knows that, without a doubt, there is nowhere else he would rather be in this moment.

“Michael,” he chokes out, because the words are clawing up his throat, and usually Alex is careful about what he says, and how he says it, and he’s never - at least he doesn’t think he has - truly told Michael how he feels. And standing here now, after being apart for two weeks, and the issues with keeping in touch during that time, and the fucking bruises, and it’s all too much for him to keep in now.

“I was thinking about my workshop, and how we can modify some space in the basement here if that’s-”

Alex doesn’t let him finish, can’t even process what Michael is talking about past agreeing with it because he's talking like he knows this is his space, and Alex can't help but feel happy and so fucking proud to see that Michael knows this is his home too.

“Michael,” he starts again, waiting until Michael is looking back at him. “I am so fucking in love with you.”

He was expecting a reaction of some kind, probably something akin to Michael just crossing the room and kissing him. What he certainly doesn’t expect is to hear the knife clatter to the floor, and Michael swear under his breath, and for him to turn the water in the sink on, shoving his hand underneath it.

It takes Alex’s brain a moment to come back online, wondering what just happened, before he realizes that Michael has sliced his hand open. But before he can move, Michael has grabbed a dishtowel, and wrapped it around his hand, as he rushes toward Alex, good hand reaching out and pulling their bodies together, kissing Alex. And Alex is helpless, he melts into Michael’s touch, his arms wrapping around Michael’s waist and pulling himself closer, and Alex faintly realizes his crutch has fallen to the floor.

“You’re such an idiot,” Alex says against Michael’s lips, but Michael just shakes his head, diving back in and kissing him again.

“I don’t care,” Michael replies against his lips, and Alex feels helpless to stop him. "I'm happy to be your idiot."

“We’re going to have to call Kyle now, and have him look at your hand-”

“It’s really not that bad-”

Alex grabs Michael’s wrist, pulling back far enough to get a better look at it, the towel wrapped tightly enough for now, and Alex knows the only reason he hasn’t immediately settled into worrying about an infection is because of Michael’s alien DNA and it’s resistance to human diseases and ailments.

“What if you need stitches?”

Michael smiles, leaning in again, and Alex doesn’t stop him.

"I'm gonna go put my prosthetic on, and then call Kyle, so please, no more accidents." Alex tugs at the dish towel, and Michael yanks his hand back.

In the bathroom, Alex collapses back on the window seat, and takes a deep breath, cursing the events of tonight. Well, not all of them because he'd never regret Michael - even through the good and bad between them, Alex has learned to take it all in stride. He just can't believe Michael's reaction to what he'd said had been to slice his hand open.

He calls Kyle first, leaning against the wall, and wondering if he should never had said anything at all. They're lucky - Kyle isn't working, and agrees to come over, but Alex can hear the apprehension in his voice and knows he's going to have to figure out a way to repay the favor.

By the time Alex has put his prosthetic back on, Kyle is letting himself in through the front door, backpack slung over his shoulder, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere but here - and Alex can't blame him for that. His status as Alien Doctor means he's the only one who can treat the aliens without fear of discovery.

“Do I even want to know?” Kyle asks, carefully pulling back the dishtowel, and inspecting the wound. Alex watches as Michael ignores the question, his good hand reaching toward the new laptop that's still sitting on the table.

“Guerin’s an idiot,” Alex supplies from where he’s standing in the kitchen heating up leftover pizza, since dinner was ruined, and Alex was done letting Michael near sharp objects for the evening. As Kyle sets about cleaning and bandaging Michael’s cut, including dropping a full bottle of nail polish remover on the table for Michael to drink, Alex moves around the kitchen, cleaning up the ruined dinner that Michael had planned for them, shaking his head at the half cut up meat and vegetables, and putting anything that can be saved back in the fridge.

“Yeah,” Michael adds, not paying attention to Kyle, his gaze firmly settled on watching Alex in between sips of acetone. “But you love me.”

Alex watches Kyle stop what he’s doing, eyes moving up first to Michael’s, and then over to his own, as if asking if he needs to tell Michael to shut up before he starts telling Kyle things he definitely doesn’t need to, or want to, know.

“Did you just figure that out, Guerin?” Kyle replies instead, and Alex wonders if he thought that the safest option. “Cuz the rest of us had bets on how long it would take you two to figure your shit out.”

Alex glares at Kyle, remembering several conversations years ago, where Kyle had tried to nudge him into talking to Michael, insisting that it was the key to everything between them. It hadn’t been bad advice, it had been exactly what Alex had needed to hear. The problem was, like it had always been with them, timing.

Timing had always been their enemy, even from the very beginning. Alex had thought they’d beaten it, after everything they’d been through where they’d all but given up on ever being together. He doesn’t like to dwell on it too much, on their crashing back together in the weeks following the reunion, or how fast he’d pulled away due to the threat of his father still lingering over them, choosing to protect Michael over being with him.

“Who won?” Michael asks, and Alex glances over to see Kyle bent over Michael’s hand, gauze pressed against the wound. He doesn’t want to know how far off their friends were, if he and Michael had spent too much time letting everything else get in the way instead of trying to work things out between them. But he’s already cleaned up the kitchen, and after all of this, Alex really just wants to eat dinner and take Michael to bed, and not wake up until the morning.

“Max.” That’s a surprising answer, Alex thinks. He’d expected it to be Maria or Isobel. Or even Kyle himself, who seemed to have picked up on what Guerin meant to him long before Alex was even willing to admit to himself that it could be obvious to anyone. “And even he was off by about four months. You two really did take forever.”

“I’m surprised Maria didn’t win.”

“She took herself out of the running, said it’d be cheating.”

Alex is thankful when the oven beeps, indicating the pizza is ready, and ignores the remaining conversation between Kyle and Michael. He removes the tray from the oven, and plates two slices each on plates for him and Michael, before wondering if Kyle is hungry. But as he turns around with the intention of asking, Kyle is standing up, backpack in hand, looking ready to leave.

“I don’t want to know what caused that cut, but for my sanity, please don’t do it again.”

And with that, he’s gone, leaving the two of them alone again.

“Alex, what is this?” Michael asks, fingers running across the smooth top of the laptop.

“It’s yours,” he replies, matter of factly. He knows Michael is going to resist, going to insist he doesn’t need or want it.

“I didn’t ask-”

Alex takes a deep breath, because he knew the fight was coming. He knew that Michael would resist it, because that’s how Michael is. He gives and gives and gives, and Alex has watched him reject things people have done for him over and over again, thinking they were debts that needed to be repaid.

“I know you didn’t, but with all your research and your designs - I thought this would make it easier.”

Michael doesn’t say anything to that, and Alex wonders if he’s not going to actually argue against it.Maybe it’s just the events of tonight, maybe Michael is going to save the bickering for another day, another evening.

Instead, Michael shakes his head, eyeing the computer one more time, and pushing up off the chair, and walking into the kitchen. Alex tries to not focus on his injured hand, on the stark white bandage wrapped around reminding him of a different time in their lives, causing him to flinch away, picking up a plate and taking a bite of pizza.

He watches Michael lean against the counter across from him, picking up a slice of pizza and testing if it’s cool enough to eat. It’s shit timing, but Alex needs to know something, needs to ask Michael about tonight.

“Did you not know?”

Michael pauses, pizza poised in front of his mouth, and frowns at him, before dropping the slice back onto the plate, and sliding it back onto the counter.

“Of course I knew.”

“Because I know I’m not good with words, I know that I don’t make those big grand declarations like you do that take my breath away and render me speechless.”

“Alex-”

“I just,” he pauses, leveraging himself across the linoleum until he’s standing in Michael’s space, fingers itching to reach out and make contact. “It felt important to tell you.”

He lets Michael crowd him against the cabinetry, pizza temporarily forgotten. Wraps his arms around Michael's neck, as Michael pulls him on with his hands settled on his hips, and Alex just loves this man. He's infuriating and he's beautiful, and more than anything else, Alex wouldn't trade anything in their past if it meant changing getting here.

"I told you a long time ago, I don't look away from you. I never could." Alex lets Michael lean in, foreheads pressed together, noses bumping, lips pressed together in smiles. "You're my home, Alex. You made me believe, when no one else did, that I didn't have to build a ship and leave. That I could have a family here too."

Alex thinks about home and Michael's plans for moving his workshop into the basement and kisses him again and again and again, feeling like he's that seventeen year old boy again who got nervous around the boy he liked. Except now they're grown up, they're men who have seen more and done more, and changed them. But one thing through it all has remained the same.

"You really want to move your workshop here?" Alex asks, knowing the answer, but needing Michael to understand that he's asking to make sure. He needs to hear it from Michael.

"Do you not-"

"No!" Alex immediately replies, and then catches himself, knowing how this has to sound. "Fuck. No, I want you to. I'm just - I'm making sure it's what you want."

Michael reaches behind him, and Alex twists his head to see it's one of his notebooks, and they pull away from each other just enough so Michael can flip through the pages to find something specific. Be holds it up so Alex can see and-

It's a design for a prosthetic for him.

Alex takes the notebook, staring at the pages, not understanding half the calculations and formulas scribbled in the margins, but not caring because he understands the design schematic.

"I just thought I could try and make you something that was lighter and easier to get on and off-"

Alex lunges forward, cutting Michael off, and wrapping his arms back around him, using Michael and the countertop for balance and leverage to stay upright. He kisses Michael over and over again, and thinks about everything Michael does for him.

"Say it again," Michael says, pulling back so they can look each other in the eye.

Alex buries his face in Michael's shoulder, pressing his lips against the skin of his neck, but he's smiling. He hasn't felt this happy, this excited, this in love since he was seventeen. He knows Michael is waiting for him, the ever patient partner that as a teenager he never dreamed of deserving, much less finding.

"I love you."

#roswell new mexico #malex #alex manes #michael guerin #malex fic #notso writes fanfic #some references to off screen violence and past abuse #but mostly just what it says on the tin

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ask-those-dumbasses · 4 years ago

Text

Lore Post About The Gods

There are many gods in this universe, we are only going to be talking about the relevant ones. Otherwise this is gonna turn into the Greek God family tree very fast and trust me we don’t want that. So, let’s talk about some gods!

The God of Time - Avus Tempus (Grandpa Time)

General information:

The oldest god and the god that interacts with people the most, Avus Tempus is the most well known. He is the keeper of time, making sure it passes normally with no great disturbances. He watches as time passes, but does not interfere with mortal disagreements, even if he disapproves. He says that it is not his job to interfere.

Avus is older than time itself, and is the creator of the other gods. Avus was also the creator of the first Time Demons - which he calls his children with great glee. He has been given many nicknames over the years, with the most common being “Grandpa Time.” The limits to his powers are unknown, but is it commonly known that he can control the flow of time, and can open portals to different dimensions or various periods throughout time by roaring. People also know that he, with the help of his two direct children, Moíra and Apeiro, killed the Titan of War during his rampage.

(Bonus: Grandfather clocks were named after him)

Appearance:

Avus appears as a long serpent like dragon with no arms or legs, green scales, golden horns and eyes, with long white hair down his spine and on his chin, making a beard of sorts. Legends say that his body extends forever, able to loop around the earth. Avus himself jokes that he has not ever seen his own tail. His fur is said to be as soft as clouds, and his scales are so tough that no spear could pierce it. However, despite being immortal, Avus himself is not completely immune to the effects of time. His eyes are pale and milky, showing that with age his sight has gotten very poor. Today he would be considered almost legally blind.

Where they live:

Avus lives in a huge palace on the top of the largest mountain on Earth. The mountain is called “Mortum Manga,” and is on the “Multi Ossa” mountain range. Inside his palace are intricate carvings on the walls that tell the history of the world, from Avus’ creaton on to current day. There is also a fountain which is called the “Fountain of Youth.” Contrary to popular belief, this fountain does not make you immortal or young, but instead heals all sicknesses. It was named the Fountain of Youth because it was used to cure a large plague that was mostly killing children.

Along the side of the mountain is a small village called “The Village Of Lights.“ These people often interact with Avus directly. In fact, every 5 years they hold a festival where they light various sky lanterns and send them into the sky. Afterwards, Avus comes down to the village and talks to them. He specifically likes to meet with all of the children - who he likes to call his grandkids.

Personality:

He is an extremely friendly and passive god, often inviting people to come and have tea with him in his palace. Overall, Avus is very polite and is more than willing to shelter anyone if they ask. However that is difficult for most - since not only does he live atop the highest mountain, he also does look very intimidating. In reality he just wants to talk about how your day has been going. Avus is most certainly the kindest god that mortals can talk to.

He tries his best to keep up with new terms, words, controversial topics, etc. Because of his old age it can be hard for him to keep up. He ends up coming across as that overly supportive and sweet grandparent that doesn't understand but is trying to. (Ex: “Are you a boy or a girl? I cannot tell. My vision isn’t what it used to be. Oh wait - are you one of those non-berries? Not binaries? So sorry I don’t remember.”). Because of his age he is also considered very knowledgeable and wise, and people will sometimes come to him or pray to him for advice and counsel.

Avus is mostly considered to be extremely patient and calm, however there have been reports of him being fiercely protective of his “little village.” Those who have dared to harm those living or seeking refuge there have mysteriously ended up turned to stone.

The God of Life, Death, and Fate - Apeiro

General Information:

Apeiro is the god of life and death, which means it’s their job to make sure life is balanced. Apeiro can keep populations down through plagues, famine, natural disasters, or other means. Aperio can also bless certain times with good crops, more births, or other means to make sure populations stay up if need be. It is important to remember that Aperio’s job is NOT to make life/death fair. Apeiro also makes sure that spirits end up in their proper afterlife. Apeiro can also tug on the strings of fate, not manipulating them completely, but pushing them where they want it to go.

They stand against large acts of necromancy, however, they made a deal with Alita long ago. In this deal, Totems Of Undying were allowed to be created and sealed deep inside Jungle Temples. It is unknown exactly what Apeiro got in exchange for allowing this to happen but people have speculated that it has something to do with the existence of Wither Skeletons, which guard Nether Fortresses, and Withers, which can be made with a combination of three Wither Skulls and Soul Sand.

Apeiro also assisted Avus and Moíra in taking down the Titan of War.

Appearance:

They have a dark gray cloak/robe that wraps around them and flows dramatically to the floor. It drifts behind them, rippling and waving like there’s constantly a breeze. At the edges of the cloak there are dozens of tiny white stars. They don’t have a face, just a black shadow that flickers around the edges when you look directly at it (which is something you should never do). They do have hands that look like skeleton talons that float separately from their body since they do not have arms. They also have horns that used to merge as a sort of crown above their head. Now, from previous battles, those horns have been splintered and broken in two.

Where they live:

Apeiro lives inside a castle, which has the foundation of the skeleton of an ancient colossal dragon. They live with their younger sister, Moíra. Apeiro specifically lives in the head - which has been remade into a massive throne room mixed with a fancy ballroom. The neck leading up to this room is a very long hallway that has many statues of many different people. These people are referred to as “Champions,” and they are previous winners of the Champion’s Cup.

This skeleton castle is called the “Fossa Palace” and it can be found in the middle of the “Decaying Wastelands” desert. It is unknown what killed the colossal dragon, but rumors have spread that Aperio did it themselves and decided to make it their home. Regardless, when the wind blows in the cold of night, people say they can still hear soft roars and hums of the dead dragon.

Other than living with Moíra, Apeiro lives completely alone and does not normally travel outside of their castle. They only do so in big emergencies such as universal threats or large acts of necromancy.

Personality:

Apeiro is very dramatic and adores big and grand theatrics. The Champions Cup itself was created out of boredom since messing with mortal lives from the sidelines can only entertain a god for so long. Speaking of which, Apeiro finds great entertainment in watching mortal lives, and loves to play with them. Whether this is good playing or bad playing, depends on their mood. Apeiro finds it amusing to poke and prod at people’s lives from time to time, and is considered a being of madness from a few of their victims. Apeiro laughs as a witness to human wars, and sees all mortal conflict as beneath them. They will sometimes even find glee in watching other gods squabble over petty things.

The Goddess of Karma, Justice, and Fortune - Moíra

General Information:

Moíra is the goddess of karma, justice, and fortune. This means she mainly watches over humanity and tries to keep people’s lives fair, even, and balanced. She gets very angered when there are big atrocities happening in the world, or even just when excessively unfair things happen to good or bad people. She is often the judge and jury and innacts justice as she sees fit. Moíra is a very patient force as well, and ensures that eventually, in one way or another, that good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people. karma is a patient force.

She also blesses those she sees fit with various fortunes (whether this be money, something more spiritual, or something emotional will depend), or will take away from those who have committed horrendous crimes,

Moíra also helped Avus and Apeiro kill the titan of war, and was the main one leading the charge against him.

Appearance:

Moíra wears an extravagant white robe with golden patterns of leaves as an accent. She appears as a youthful human woman with dark skin and curly hair, but is very unnerving to look at. Her eyes are pure gold, dripping liquid gold down her cheeks. She has large curling goat horns which are decorated with various gems. Moíra also wears a laurel headpiece as a crown, with a bright red ruby in the center. She constantly floats just above the ground in order to keep herself clean.

Where they live:

Moíra lives inside a castle, which has the foundation of the skeleton of an ancient colossal dragon. She lives with her older sibling, Aperio. Moíra specifically lives near the top of the rib cage - which has been remade into a large fighting stadium. This stadium is where a tournament called the “Champion’s Cup” is held once a decade. There is an observatory hanging from the top of the dome ceiling, this is where Moíra resides. However she can also commonly be found with Aperio, or in the castle's library. Moíra does travel outside the castle for business purposes and works with people a lot.

Personality:

Moíra is much more careful about keeping balance then Apeiro is, and is much more responsible with her powers. Moíra also tends to scold her older sibling very often and is not very trusting of them. People think that the only reason Moíra lives with Apeiro is because she wants to keep a close eye on them.

By and large, Moíra is a very patient and slow god. She takes her time and thinks her actions through for a long time before acting. She thinks, a lot, and makes very calculated decisions like some sort of gamemaster. Moíra is willing to play the long game and waits for the pieces to fall into place so she can enact her plan properly.

Moíra is also very vengeful, and remembers all of the little wrongdoings people have done. However she is very fair with her punishments, at least, she sees what she has done as fair.

The Goddess of The End and the Keeper of The Void - The Enderdragon

General Information

History says that long ago there were Colossal Dragons; dragons that were born small and slowly grew throughout their lives until they were bigger than mountains. They have largely gone extinct because food became scarce and they were unable to eat enough to maintain their size. Some of their skeletons can still be seen to this day.

People know whispers of an old tale, about a dragon larger than mountains who rules The End as queen, and controls the Endermen as slaves to her will. That long ago she attempted to wipe out all life on this planet, but failed due to an intervention from Moíra, along with Avus who both banished her away from the Overworld. They say that one day, The Enderdragon will return, and have her revenge on everyone who dared forget her name.

The majority of people don’t even believe she’s real, and some have never even heard of her. Most people believe The Enderdraon is a made-up myth tale that was made by man to explain the unknown creation of Endermen. Some people see The Enderdragon as a sort of boogeyman figure, a tale Dragon Riders will tell their children to get them to behave; Others believe she’s just some rumor made to prevent people from exploring The Stronghold. The only thing people know for certain, is that people who have dared to enter The End have either been never seen again, or come back with horrifying stories and with their children being cursed and becoming Endermen hybrids.

Appearance:

In stories she is illustrated as a large black dragon, bigger than mountains, with large grey horns and wings. The wings are usually torn, along with many scars from various battles decorating her body. The most prominent feature is her bright purple eyes. It is said that she breathes hot purple fire.

Where they live:

In the End, one of the many different dimensions in this universe. It is mostly illustrated as many floating islands made of pale yellow sand. There are various crumbling purple buildings, along with purple plants that grow an odd fruit with teleportation abilities called “chorus fruit.” Endermen in the overworld are sometimes seen holding these. In the center of these islands are 10 tall obsidian pillars- each with an odd crystal that contains healing abilities, but only for The Enderdragon.

Underneath the islands of the end is an endless void of darkness. It is unknown what could possibly be down there. Those who have tried to find out have never returned.

Personality:

In the legends, The Enderdragon is painted as an angry, vindictive, and spiteful dragon who wants nothing more than to watch humanity burn.

The Goddess of Magic - Alita

General Information:

Alita is the keeper of all the different types of magic. There is Protection Magic, Elemental Magic, Combat Magic, Enchantments, and Necromancy. Alita is the higher power that can control all of these types of magic over others, and because of this is considered very dangerous. She can grant magic to people if they sacrifice something of great value. If she gives you magic then your spells will always appear as pure black.

Alita can also freely travel through the different dimensions - The Overworld, The Nether, and The End. She also creates permanent portals that are scattered all throughout the world. One of these portals is The Stronghold - which is a permanent portal to The End. It is unknown where others may be.

Alita is also the mother to all Kitsune, each born under a different type of magic. Kitsune are made to help Alita watch over the Overworld since she lives deep underground in The Nether. However, it is not uncommon for Kitsune to diverge from this purpose and instead do their own thing. Alita does not see a problem with this, since not only can she freely make new ones, but if she really needs to she can force her will onto the Kitsune that rebel against her wishes.

Appearance:

Alita appears to be wearing an elegant masquerade mask that looks like a peacock. You can barely see one white eye and a small beak peeking out from the mask. Nobody, except for a few other gods, knows what she looks like under the mask. Anyone who has seen does not remember. Alita generally appears to be avian-like, being part Peacock. She has peacock tail feathers that fan up whenever she gets angry. However, the eyes seem a little too real, and people have reported getting headaches from looking at them for too long. Over her body is a beautiful silk purple dress with silver accents on the ends. She also wears many different rings and necklaces that have been given to her.

Floating around her are five multichromatic flaming orbs that flash different colors. Each one stands for a different type of magic. Protection magic is represented by an icy blue, Elemental Magic flashes between red, dark blue, and light green depending on the element, Combat Magic is represented by royal purple, Enchantments is represented by orange, and Necromancy is represented by a dark green.

Where they live:

Alita lives very deep underground in the nether, in the darkest caves surrounded by bubbling lava. Various bones decorate the entrance to her cave and she has a massive throne made of gold.

Personality:

Alita is described as the cruelest of the gods. While Aperio may mess with fate, that is their job and they ultimately keep some semblance of balance. Alita will play games with the mortals who dare to visit her simply for the fun of it. She is very playful and likes to toy with people, forcing them to make extremely difficult decisions and pay the price for their hubris.

Alita can be won over with attention and praise however. She adores it when people grovel and give her positive attention just for a silly favor. While she may not often go out into the world, Alita is always open to visitors of any kind. After all, the visitors are often very entertaining.

The Titan of War, also known as The Blood God - Sanguineous

General Information:

Not much is known about the Blood God. He has mostly been lost to ancient legend. They say he was an old titan that became more powerful the more he killed. So, he became power hungry and so full of bloodlust that he attempted to wipe out all life on Earth. Because of this, he was killed by Moíra, Avus and Apeiro. His name is only known from old tapestries and ancient texts; Sanguineous.

Some say that he is not dead, but is simply resting for the right time to strike again. Some say his bones are what made the Multi Ossa mountain range. Some say that his presence can still be felt to this day. Some people do know that those who have been touched by his presence have pure red eyes. Other rumours tell of pockets of underground lakes that still hold the old Titan’s own blood. There are whispers that those pockets hold unimaginable power, if only someone could find and harness them.

Appearance:

Old paintings and tapestries depict the Blood God as a creature made purely of bone - but only an upper body up. His chest is shown to be a human skeleton, with the hands mutated into large claws. His head, however, is depicted as a large ram skull, with humongus black horns and glowing red eyes. Sometimes, he is depicted holding a large netherite axe which he attempted to split the earth with.

Where they live:

Since the Blood God is dead, he does not live anywhere. When he was alive he did not live in any particular place. He simply wandered the Overworld.

Personality:

The only thing known is that he wanted nothing but for blood to be spilt from each end of the earth.

#not an ask #lore dump #gods #Avus Tempus #Apeiro #Moíra #The Enderdragon #Alita #The Blood God #Sanguineous

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