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littleguy-bigstories · 2 months

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Growing Desire (Part 1)

Rain is coming down hard over the houses that are spread across the rolling hills of my home town. The sound of the droplets hitting the pavement filled the air with white noise, as the breeze wisp the leaves through the streets. I stare out the window watching the water come down, while simultaneously skimming the pages of a book I need to read for class. It has been hours since I last took a break and my body was in need of a stretch. Standing up at my height of 5’3”, I reach my hands up to the ceiling reaching over my short and unkempt hair. My shirt rose over my belly button revealing a slim body covered in a light bed of thick and dark body hair. I wouldn’t say I’m much for looks, but I was proud of the light tone I was able to put on. Despite the work I tried to put in while I was young, I never built much muscle and learned to be okay with that. But every now and then when I look at myself, I wish I were able to build more muscle.

Axel is one of my oldest friends and has been there for me since as long as I can remember. He has always been the complete opposite of me. Everything seemed to come so easily to him and though we worked out together almost everyday nothing changed. Today is leg day so after getting some work done, I get ready for another day of training with no results.

After getting ready I jump into the car and head to the gym. Axel is waiting for me out front when I get there dressed in his classic skintight leggings, booty shorts, and tank top.

“Hey! What’s up man? What took you so long?” Axel said as he pulled him in for bro hug.

“Sorry man, I got caught up with school work, you ready?” I say as pumped as I can

“Hell yeah! Les gooooo”

I chuckle. When we enter the gym there’s what feels like an endless supply of machines that help you reach your goals. After a quick stretch we head straight for a weight rack to start our workout. Squats, lunges, calf raises, and so on. We work our way through our planned workout until we hit a stopping point. It has been two hours since we started and it only felt like minutes. Axel and I head to the locker rooms where we relax and recover in the sauna.

“Nice job today man! You really put in the work!”

I chuckle. “Hey I may be putting in the work, but at least your body shows it”

“Awe! Come on man, you’re looking pretty tone” he says as he grabs my thigh and shakes it playfully. They both laugh until it gets silent again. Once they leave the room and return from a quick shower, they meet up by their lockers grabbing their things before heading out.

“Yoooo, I forgot to tell you!! I got something for you!!” Axel shoves his hand into his bag looking for something.

“Oh! It’s all good we can get it later”

“No man this is the perfect time, especially before I forget” he says before pulling out a small bottle labeled Desire. “We just got these in today, they’re a new brand and my boss asked me to try it out. It says it supposed to help you bulk up. I want to try it out, but I thought we could do it together” he said sheepishly.

“I don’t know… I’ve tried quite a few supplements and honestly they don’t work for me.”

“I don’t know from what I read online, it sound like this one might actually work. I mean there are not a lot of reviews cause it just came out, but why not give it a try” he pulls out a pill and puts it in his hand.

“Um…okay, but you have to take it with me.”

Axel nods, then we pop the little pill in our mouths, and head out. Once I get home, I eat a quick meal and head to bed. For some reason tonight I’m more exhausted than usual, but I don’t think much of it as I drift off to sleep.

That night I dreamt that Axel and I were working out at the gym, but something was different. The dream shifted to me heading home when something out of the ordinary started to happen. I started to grow! Before I could get any bigger, I swerved off the road and try to get out. A wave of pain and pleasure washed over me as every muscle in my body started to swell with muscle. I could feel my skin tightening around the bulging muscle until it came to a complete stop. With only a moment to breathe the next phase began to take place. I started to get taller. Something that I knew would never be possible, but there I was growing to 6 feet and then to 6’5” where I stopped. Before the final phase started to take place I woke up from the dream.

As I stare at the ceiling dissecting the dream that I just had, I felt the raging hard on that is straining against my underwear. I look at the time and immediately force myself up. Once on my feet my body was aching and sore more than I’ve been in a long time. Something felt off. I had no time to do any more analysis and barely any time to glance at myself in the mirror. I threw clothes on as fast as I could and ran out the door.

I made it with not a minute to spare and looked for an open seat. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get my usual seat that I would get when I would arrive a few minutes early. So I was stuck in the back. The seat seemed to be tighter back here for some reason, I thought to myself while sitting down. Class went by with a breeze and it was off to work. I worked at the gym on campus and enjoyed the eye candy when I was working the front desk.

“Hey man! How are you?” Jake greeted me when I walked in.

“I’m doing good, just hella sore” I said rubbing my thighs. Are my pants tighter?…

“Yo, you’re looking great today, looks like gym might finally be paying off” Jake said with a grin.

I just chuckled and shrugged it off. There was something really odd, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. After hours of greeting, checking people in, and cleaning. It was time to gym himself.

Axel met me there ready for another day. Today was different though. Axel looked bigger, but I could be imagining it. Once again I shrug it off and catch up with Axel.

“Yo! You’re looking great today! That pill must’ve worked!” Axel said with a surprised look.

I thought he was joking and went through our back and bicep routine. Curls, deadlifts, reverse butterfly’s and so on. We plow through our workout. Straight to the sauna and then shower.

“So you’re ready for round two?”Axel said handing me another pill.

“Sure why not” I said taking the pill.

“It says for best results you gotta take two” Axel hands me another one.

“Are you sure that’s not too much?”

“Nah man, I only gave you a half dose yesterday as a tester. You ready for the real thing?”

“I guess” I say as I through the pill to the back of my throat.

I gather the rest of my things and we walk out together.

That night, I had the same dream as the night before, but this time it was more vivid than before. I kept growing and growing until I was 7’5” and had a solid mass of 280lb. I was no longer a small skinny guy, but now I was a muscle beast. After a quick beat, there was a vibration that started at his sack. Next thing I know my cock started to rip out of the strings that were left from the previous growth. From 5 inches to 6 and then 8inches before settling at an erect 9.5 inches. Then it all stops.

I wake up more sore than the day before and tired as ever. I felt the strain in my underwear, but it’s different than yesterday. I sit up on the ledge of my bed and place my feet flat on the carpet.

Do my legs look different? I think to myself. My thighs and calves look more tone than they ever have. I must be a late bloomer or something, at the ripe age of 25. I stand up slowly fighting the soreness in my legs. When I finally stand up I notice…I’M TALLER!

I rush to the nearest mirror so I can get a better look. When I get to the bathroom I gasp. I wasn’t only taller, but I had built muscle. A lot of muscle. I was no longer short skinny cub, but now I looked like a bodybuilder.

I quickly try to look for clothes that would fit. All I could find was a pair of shorts that at one point went to my knee, that now fit like booty shorts against my bulging things and ass. Every shirt I tried on ripped except for one that didn’t go past my naval. I slide on my sandals that barely fit and rush out the door to Axels house.

When I arrive I knock on the door frantically.

“Hey Man!! Are you in there?!? We need to talk! Something weird has happened.”

I hear nothing coning from the other side of the door, so I knock harder. Until I hear what sound like heavy foot steps on the other side. The grumble of a half awake Axel on the other side of the door unlocks the deadbolt and knob lock. He opened the door.

“Hey man, come one you know I don’t get up until noon” he said a deeper voice and eyes half open.

He is huge! I thought to myself. He was strong and built before, but now he was nothing short of a muscle bull. His body is built like a statue. Every muscle group was visible, big, tight, and covered with a very light layer of fat. As he stood there in his underwear still waking up, his eyes got wide.

“Yo! Who are you?!!” He was completely confused at who was standing in front of him.

“Um..it’s me” I said with confusion.

“Haha! Very funny, did Nico put you up to this? I know I made him try a new supplement, but I know for a fact you’re not him” still in disbelief and denial.

“It’s me! That shot you gave me did something to me, and it looks like it did the same for you!”

“Huh?” Axel said with a confused face.

I shove the big man into his house and drag him to the nearest mirror.

“Look at yourself man!!!”

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!!!” Confused at the person that is looking back at him in the mirror, he finally realizes that I’m not lying.

“I…look…INCREDIBLE! It must have been the Supplement!!!!”

We both stare at each other in awe of what we became and then a mischievous look came across his face. He ran to his room, shaking the house with every footstep. After a minute he came back with the bottle in his hand.

“What are you doing?” I say with a concern. Is he really thinking…no he can’t be. We have no idea what could happen if we…if he.

“I’m gonna take another serving!” He said with a carnivorous look in his eye.

I’m in shock. He couldn’t really want to take more, he was huge. I’m happy with how big I am now, how could he want more? I continued to look and admire the bull in front of me. He looks impecable. I look back at the mirror and examine what I’ve become.

In that moment Axel hands me a couple of the pills. I stare at them in my hand like I’m holding the power of the world in it.

“You gonna take them?” Axel said watching me intensely. “Come on, this is literally what you’ve always wanted. We’ve dreamed about this ever since we were little.” Axel throws the pills to the back of his throat and chugs some water.

I look at the pills in my hands and then back to my reflection. With a deep breath I throw back the pills and drink the water that was handed to me.

“Haha! We’re gonna be huge bro.” He says as he slaps my ass.

#bodybuilder #musclegrowth #transformation #growing bigger #story #Growing Desire

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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Hi! I’m still not really over the last episode (and that happy montage in the end i-) and I’m feel confused about what’s part of the episode was fake. I mean the end totally is. But all Chuck scene was superweird too. And sometimes i think that it should be Cas instead of Lucifer and Jack felt him. I mean... confused! How do you feel about that?

Okay so here’s the thing -- this is a multifaceted episode--

BuckLeming, while often herded efficiently by Dabb, can muddy up the textual waters, leave gaps, and things unexplained.

However, that doesn’t account for Showalter’s choices in direction. Dutch shots out the ASS which are typically used to evoke that something is "wrong." Lots of panoramas, tracking shots, zooms and blurs in ways that simply are-not-standard for SPN. Extreme aerial shots.

One might even think “maybe it’s Chuck looking in on them!” but then you realize the same overhead view zoomed out on *Chuck* even and panned out to the horizon again.

One of the early mega-zooms literally zoomed out to The World, even. I’m just gonna gesture people to my tag on that and let them think on that, much less the empty world orbiting on the news or whatever the hell else.

There were *several* Cas-baits, yes. Yes, that was intentional from our actual authors.

But when it comes down to “fake episode”, here’s where we were at.

15.17-19 run immediately concurrently. At the end of 17, Chuck says this was his ending.

Now, the Winchesters largely derailed that ending, so Chuck was writing new material.

But Chuck is also seeking death.

He wrote a suicide note in 11. He wrote the story that would end in him and Amara being eradicated. And whatever influence he was exerting forcefully with Michael and Lucifer to bop the story around was all in the interest of seeing his book. One might think “to keep the Winchesters from killing him”, but he was desperate to see what his ending WAS, to know it and experience it and scream after them.

The dour taking of “no one cares” right after “I care(d)” about humanity is its own highlight going on. But wait, there’s MORE.

When Dabb dropped his pre-episode thing, we started talking before the episode.

So I mean, I think what we were *mostly* witnessing is the pen being ripped away.

But this is that emptiness that lingers even with Chuck generally resolved. They’re still kinda on the pages. The book is presented as shut, and the next steps are not taken. Development stops, if not drops.

This entire thing is so meta my damn head hurts.

Summarily: Is it just like, some weird AU that’s gonna go away? Not so much. Is it an incomplete portion of the story told from a skew? Absolutely. And is there still someone watching over them? T’would seem so. The whole World, even. Beyond Chuck.

Now the point at which we start blocking off issues of “eugenie writes like she’s 3″ is where we ask about things like “god power” or whatever else being thrown in the mix along with eugenie’s ki ball special effects that are literally always unique to her episodes, even if other people have to add the SFX.

So while it was a good bit of masterful work to do it via buckleming for this style of bump, it still inevitably has its flaws because... buckleming. But... Showalter was there. And one thing to note is almost every single scene entrance had some sort of major pan or zoom effect. That’s not typical for him.

The entire thing is designed to evoke, directorially:

One style: crooked shots, unlevel, unbalanced, uneasy feeling.

Second style: Over-under; some force is watching them on high, while others have a sort of brechtian absurdity, which seats it like a play on an elevated stage.

We are the audience, looking up at figures half the episode; but a second audience is looking in from “on high” and out over the world. As if perhaps even from the heavens.

Third style: CSI Miami, basically? Parts of this episode were sectioned off to be like a procedural crime drama in its cinematography and flashbacks. Which is ironic, because Dean loathes procedural dramas, but at the same time some of this fandom demands a procedural monster show instead of a family drama show.

Sam and Dean barely have any lines in the episode *until* we hit Crime Drama Time. Then suddenly, they reveal all of their case work. Despite Dean’s hatred of crime dramas, this is honestly when I feel like the brothers kicked in their own pen.

Let’s play a game-- the winchesters are aware they can write their own story. So they start telling the story they think people want to hear, or maybe just fill in the gaps from when Chuck gets dropped on his ass. Maybe Dean’s the one writing about how many times god punched them in the face whereas Sam is breaking down the crime scene investigation front. Another, where it feels like we’re loosely circling the war table as others lightly wander too.

But everything before that is the first and second style, and even after that, the overview-angle remains. The uneasiness is gone but there is an emptiness otherwise. But we are no longer spectators from beneath the stage, but staring into them.

I still very much expect everyone to “die” one more time and several specifics to choose to walk back into life at the end of it.

Is it a *complete* false narrative? No. We’re not just gonna turn around and be like “oh that whole ep didn’t happen.” But the writer lost his pen and got jacked at one point, while we also observed the stage from a series of angles as different audiences.

Riddle me this: Why show the World? “Because it’s empty and just them!” okay but there’s a lot of ways to show that which actually gets that point a whole lot better across than “here, here’s a planet that still looks lit up”--yes I know electricity is still running until stuff runs out but essentially speaking, the end of the episode shows us the kind of dramatic shots that could be used for that.

CASey just poofed in the World in the TV, seems legit.

Let’s see these overhead angles again, knowing it isn’t just Chuck.

This sort of overview is known for causing a “dollhouse effect” that derealizes the episode and makes them seem, well, like toys. Which is interesting. Because Chuck isn’t the only one watching them on high.

Cool, this is fine.

Either way, the entire episode is DESIGNED to cause some major uncanny valley. There’s a lot of parts that simply *haven’t been told or filled in.* It’s almost like evasive maneuvering, half the content just never made it to print, and what did wasn’t in its best draft. There may be battling authors, or a transition of authorship. But the thing is: this is not the complete story.

There is an entire missing section about Sam and Dean even finding out that Jack is a power siphon which they hadn’t witnessed yet much less arranged an entire plan.

Even Chuck’s episodes are generally told from the general POVs of the Winchesters, but this was absolutely not.

Matthew 28: 18: And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Put a pin in that one.

Unless CHUCK IS WRITING HIS OWN FAKE DRAMATIC END, the overhead view, however, IS NOT CHUCK PERSPECTIVE.

-- Regardless, the metaness of “fish in a toilet bowl BRL plot” stacked into this makes it very difficult to accurately decipher the lines, especially with only one watch so far--just skimming back through right now to grab a few things I remember.

Some parts are plot salad buckleming.

Some parts are us as forced spectators of a stage play.

some parts are shifting authorship

Some parts are the heavens looking out over the earth it loves.

------

It almost feels as if, within enclosed spaces, unsteadiness and stageplay, we have Chuck’s POV.

But by the end it ceases to have any relevance, as he is no longer the author, and instead, we have the Presence of Being overseeing them, letting the Winchesters argue for their own proverbial pen in their own storytellings between here and there.

ALTERNATE PROPOSAL:

it is all one point of view. All of it. Pretend you’re someone’s eyes on a situation, you just happen to be in the sky half the time, and the uncanny valley is pulling forward the concept of being a presence that simply isn’t *there.* For example we're looking extremely closely at passed out dean but the camera turns and raises to level with Sam before Dean gets up. Our viewership lens is rising to meet Sam.

The camera stays in motion to fill a role or slot of a viewer. At first it’s haunting and ominous, but at other times, it’s simply part of the room, when it isn’t hovering from on high. Rather than speaking of empty space, we are viewing The World through that empty space, as if it were a Being.

Just a few more eye catching shots.

But whoever or whatever frames the end, even without Chuck--like the story is still turning on the pages, roughly.

The montage at the end feels like the Swan Song one, more or less, but there’s no narrator, no chuck.

The writer, the writer we know at least, is Absent.

Men are writing their own Stories.

But they aren’t alone.

I know how you see yourself. Angry and dark like your father. You think that’s what you are. But you are the most loving man in the whole world. That is who you are.

Someone does care. Even if right now, Sam and Dean don’t feel like anyone does.

...Because of you. I cared. For you, for Sam, for Jack, for the Whole World.

I cared.

“That’s not who I am.”

I am.

I speak therefore I am.

#supernatural #spn #15.19 #meta #my meta #the world #world #absence #being #polol

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nightowlwriting · 3 years

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summary: caleb is not so sure that he deserves the kindness you've done for him. you're sure that he deserves so much more, and you plan to show him in small increments so that you don't scare him away. the shopping trip is only the beginning. (part 3/13 of the kindness series, a thematically connected series of c2/exu imagines)

word count: 2.1k

warnings: caleb's low self-esteem, mentions of political corruption, set early in c2

note: i am only on ep16 of c2 so that's where we're at folks, also my german is so so so rusty so uhhh hope it's right but any germans want to correct me feel free lmfao

masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Caleb Widogast is a jumpy, jumpy man. You assume it’s for good reason - he’d confided in the group that he met Nott in jail and, well, typically people don’t go to jail unless they’ve done something.

(Although, the more that you adventure with the Mighty Nein you’re not so sure that’s true. It seems like corruption runs deep in the Empire, and you’ve only scratched the surface.)

Still, he is far jumpier than even Nott, and she’s a goblin in the Empire. You watch him, sometimes, and cringe when he flinches. It’s not pity that makes you start being nice to Caleb, but that does color your actions in the beginning. You are of the firm belief that he is a good person, that all of the Nein are, and that they deserve kindness. Caleb most of all. He is so hard on himself and no amount of coaxing from the rest of the group can get him to ease up. Not even Nott, and she functions as his pseudo-mother. But you want him to loosen up, want more of those moments where he makes a joke with a straight face, only to crack a small smile when the group looks away from him. (You try not to look away, craving those moments where you can see the smile light up his face.) When your group arrives in Zadash, you make it your mission to get Caleb to feel some sort of positive emotions about himself.

Or some sort of positive emotion that’s not scarred by whatever happened in his past. You want him to be happy, to heal from whatever keeps him held back from joking with the rest of you. It doesn’t even matter if he reciprocates how you feel about him - you don’t really care. You can love him from afar, be kind to him, and that will be enough for you. He doesn’t have to fall in love with you like you’ve fallen in love with him, really, that’s not why you’re doing this. This being stopping by Pumat’s shop to pick up some more spell scrolls for him with your gold. He had been muttering to himself the last time you were all in about not having enough money, but you hadn't wanted to embarrass him by purchasing them on his behalf, so a separate trip it is. Pumats, all of them, seem to know what you’re doing because they smile when you tuck the scrolls under your cloak and sweep out of the shop.

Your next stop is an ink shop, where you pick up some more ink and incense for Caleb. You’re not really sure how his magic works because it’s not something he was born with or given by a God, but you know that he’s always looking for good ink, parchment, and incense. Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean that you can’t be supportive. You hope that’s what Caleb will get out of your gift, and not anything else. After you gather the magic supplies - you’d asked specifically for the things that wizards use just to make sure - you make your way to the Chastity’s Nook. Maybe Caleb was joking about wanting to be titillated while he learns, but you feel better safe than sorry.

The worker there is incredibly nice, if not shy, and helps you pick out something educational, historical, and terribly smutty. It makes you blush when you glance through it, but it seems to be the right balance of the things that Caleb has expressed interest in before. (Even if that might be fake - you’re not totally sure. Still, it can not hurt to try.) She even wraps it up nicely for you, offering to wrap your other gifts too. That might be too much, so you decline, but you still pass her a few more silver as a tip. You’ve never been so nervous as you are when you make your way back to the tavern where you’re staying, but it’s almost easy to keep your cool and mask the absolute terror you feel when Caleb is sitting with the group, eating dinner. You were kind of counting on him being in his room, reading, but you don’t let his sudden appearance stop you. Jester spots you first, patting the empty seat between her and Nott, calling your name. You slip into it, easily concealing your gifts behind your back. “Where did you go?”

A sly smile slips onto your face as you reach forward, taking a portion of the food they’d ordered, “Oh, you know, around.”

“You smell like perfume,” Beau leans over Nott and sniffs you, making a slightly disgusted face, “Why do you smell like perfume?”

“I went shopping,” You cut in before Jester and Molly can interject with salacious theories, “That shopping happened to be in the Tri-Spire, thank you very much.” Caleb raises an eyebrow, sharing a look with Fjord, but you ignore it. “What did you guys do today?” You don’t really listen - only enough to hum or nod as they’re speaking - because you’re focused on figuring out a plan to get your gifts to Caleb without the others noticing or making him feel like you’re doing it out of pity, or that he owes you. You just want him to be happy that he’s getting a gift. It’s later, when everyone has cleared out, that Jester shakes your shoulder lightly, calling your name.

“Are you okay?” Her dark blue eyebrows pull down over her eyes, incredibly worried, “You didn’t talk at all during dinner.” You take her hand in yours, squeezing it briefly.

“I’m fine, Jessie. I think I might head to bed, though.” You give her a hug before heading up to your room, looking over your shoulder just before you hit the stairs to see if Caleb had gone to bed when you had zoned out. He’s easy to find in the corner, nose deep in a book, and you grin. That makes everything so much easier, especially since Nott is tucked into the booth next to him. That means that their room is completely empty and a perfect place to drop the gifts without any of the unnecessary baggage that might come with giving them to him face to face. You don’t even think about the fact that he might have warded his room until it’s too late. (That being until you watch the string snap around your ankles when you make it four steps into the room.)

But, damnit, you have a mission to complete. There’s at least a minute before Caleb makes it to the stairs and perhaps another half a minute before he hits the door. You set the things up on what you think is Caleb’s bed a little messier than you wanted but you’re running out of time. The door is a no-go to leave, and you can hear Caleb bounding up the steps. You whirl, tugging your cloak tightly around you as you debate jumping through the window instead of opening it. In the end that will just draw an entirely different reaction than you want, so you settle for slamming the window up and slinging one leg over the sill. Caleb’s room is on the second floor, so the fall might hurt a little bit, but Caleb is right outside the door, so you don’t have any other choices-

“Was machst du in meinem Zimmer!?” He bellows, hands already engulfed in flame, when he kicks the door open. It startles you off of the window sill, luckily into the room instead of out. You pop up, hands raised and already talking.

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re saying but I didn’t know you had your room warded, I was just trying to give you the things that I bought you today, and then by the time I realized it was too late because I couldn’t just leave without giving you the stuff, because then you’d be scared-” Caleb extinguishes the flames that had started to crawl up his arms, shutting the door as he comes closer to the bed. You scramble to your feet, snagging your cloak in your hands to twist it nervously. “-I should leave now, excuse me.” You do your best to skirt around him but Caleb holds up a hand, eyes on the pile of loot you’ve left on his bed. He wraps a warm hand around your wrist to keep you in place as he tries to process what’s happening.

“What is on my bed?” Caleb finally looks toward you then, eyebrows furrowed as he watches you nervously fidget with your robe, biting your lower lip. “I am not mad, but what do you mean things you bought me?” He gestures loosely with the other hand and you take a step closer to him and the bed. You weren’t ready for being confronted with Caleb, despite how much you thought about what you might say to him in a situation like this. You almost swallow your tongue trying to figure out what to say to him.

“I bought you things,” You blurt, “Because you deserve it. I’m not sure if it’s all the right things, but I tried and even if you can’t use them for, you know, magic things you can use them for other stuff-” You watch as he makes his way over to the pile and begins rifling through it, mumbling to himself in Zemnian. “I’m not doing this out of pity, or anything,” You move to his side, peeking over as he skims through the book you bought, “I did it because I want to, I promise.” You wring your hands and look off to the side, avoiding watching the way he’s pouring over what you’ve bought, “You weren’t even really supposed to know they’re from me, honestly, I just wanted to do something nice for you because you deserve kindness-”

“-I am not so sure about that,” Caleb turns to you, catching your attention. He smiles, but it’s weak, when he looks at the small pile you’ve bought for him, “The spells will be useful for the group, but the rest… You are too kind.”

“I’m not!” Perhaps on instinct, you reach out and clasp his wrists in your hands, “No, Caleb, please. I didn’t do this to make you feel bad, I want you to feel good. You’re so bright, Caleb, and so amazing that I just want you to feel a fraction of the happiness you make me feel.” He hesitates so you press on, taking the chance to step closer to him as your heart takes off at a breakneck pace in your chest. “Please, don’t feel guilty. I did this because I want to, okay? I want to make you happy and make you smile, and make you feel good because it makes me feel good. You don’t have to do - to do anything and if you want, I’ll stop. You just say the word and I’ll stop, but I see you, Caleb.” Your voice breaks off as your eyes mist over. He looks awe-inspired at you, not stepping away or pulling from your grasp, “I see you. I see the way you bite back jokes, and sometimes they slip through. I see the way you care for us, for Nott. I see the way you sacrifice yourself in everything you do because you don’t feel like you deserve to be happy, but you do. Please, you are such a good man - I can see it. I can feel it, Caleb. You deserve the world’s largest kindness, but if I can’t give that to you I’ll give you small kindnesses, if you’ll let me.” Your lip quivers and your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper when you decide to fling yourself off the metaphorical cliff you’ve found yourself on, “Caleb Widogast, I wish to give you never-ending small kindnesses not only because you deserve them, but because I love you. I am in love with you.” The difference sits heavy in the air between you as you watch Caleb process everything that you’ve said.

“You… Are you in love with me?”

“Undoubtedly.” You confirmed, whispering. He’s stepped toward you a fraction of an inch, but it puts the both of you nearly chest to chest. “I have never been so sure of something, Caleb.”

“I enjoy the way you say my name.” He confesses. You watch in wonder as red begins to crest from underneath his facial hair, coloring his cheeks a rosy, pretty pink. He tries to look away, but you duck your head to try and keep some semblance of eye contact. Your hands tremble in his.

“I’ll say it forever, then,” You try to smile, but you really only manage an upward quiver of your lips, “Every day, if you’ll accept my kindness.”

“Es wird schwer,” Caleb says under his breath as he shuffles even closer to you, “Es wird so schwer, aber ich werde es versuchen.” You’re not totally sure what he’s saying, but when he presses a terrified, hesitant kiss against your lips the message comes across loud and clear.

#critical role imagine #c2 imagine #cr imagine #caleb widogast imagine #caleb imagine #caleb widogast x reader #caleb x reader #caleb widogast / reader #caleb / reader #campaign 2 imagine #critfic

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter One / Americano

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Working a dull December morning shift, you meet a seemingly disgraced DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña.

Warnings: Language, talk of death and canon-typical Narcos violence

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: YOU GUYS i am so excited to share this story with you all!! i fuckin love Javi and coffee so this features my two favorite things! big thanks as always to my beta readers for helping me out- especially with chapter 2 (which i was stuck on for 3 weeks lol). I hope you guys enjoy! this story has some twists I don’t think y’all are gonna see coming ;) I’m planning to update this fic once a week! I just wanted to get chapter one out there :)

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Americano: espresso and hot water; has a similar taste to a brewed coffee, but still darker and more caffeinated thanks to the espresso.

Work is blissfully slow on weekdays, allowing you to putz along at your own speed. Today, however, is boring as hell. You’d had approximately seven customers since the morning rush, meaning about seven drinks to make. There weren’t even tables to clean, no customers having sat in the cozy coffeeshop. You and your coworker had joked around, swept and mopped, and cleaned the espresso machines twice each.

At this point, with nothing else to do, you sipped your third peppermint mocha while perched atop two stacked milk crates, leafing through your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a common occurrence when evening rolled around, but rarely so early in the day. Since you were the one on barista duty, Mandy kept watch for customers and allowed you to relax with your book. It was routine for the two of you. She mindlessly fusses with the product wall and the coffee grinder, cleaning everything for the third time.

The door opens and you pop up from your makeshift chair excitedly. The weather is blustery and cold, with heavy snowflakes starting to fall outside the large windows, and the man who enters is pulling his jacket tight around himself. He looks up and you quickly dodge behind the espresso machines before you can make eye contact. It’s instinctual, and you’re unsure why until your brain reminds you of the man’s face. He’s handsome, even though you got maybe a second’s look at him. Dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, eyes an even darker shade to complement his tanned skin.

You bite your lip and grab a large ceramic mug, bringing it to the espresso machine. No one would be crazy enough to order a cold drink in this weather. Mandy takes his order and a few seconds later, his receipt pops up through the printer at your end of the shop:

Ticket 114 - 12/3/93

Name: Javier

LG-Redeye

!memo: darkroast

Javier. The name suits the man, you think to yourself and smile as you begin prepping the espresso for his drink. As you walk to Mandy’s station to fill the mug with drip coffee, she smiles and nudges your side. “Isn’t he cute?” She murmurs. You look at the printed ticket then at the coffee warmers: there’s no dark roast.

“Very,” you giggle a little and fill the mug with light instead. He’s seated in the corner. “I call dibs,” you tease, and Mandy shakes his head. She’s married, but she knows your type, and it’s exactly the man sitting there, staring at a newspaper.

“Yeah, okay,” she shakes her head but smiles at you. “No wedding ring either. I think you should bring his drink to him instead of calling out the order.”

Staring down at the filling mug, you shake your head. “We’ll see,” you chuckle softly and return down to your end of the bar, pouring the two shots of espresso. “Javier?” You call in your barista voice, and the man lifts his head and walks to the bar.

“That’s me,” he says, a small begrudging smile on his face.

“Hi,” you chuckle and hold up the mug. “We’re out of dark roast right now, so I had to use light. Could I put some flavoring or cream or sugar in there for you?” You offer. “Otherwise, I can most definitely make you something else. An americano maybe?”

He pauses for a second. “Yeah, an americano would be great,” he nods. “What kind of flavors… are there?” he asks.

“Oh, we have a ton,” you say enthusiastically, grabbing the syrup rack and pulling it your way. “Any of these. Hazelnut, vanilla, raspberry,” you smile, rattling off the flavors, “otherwise we also have caramel and any flavor of chocolate.”

Javier raises an eyebrow as he looks at the small display. “Never been somewhere with so many options. Could I do dark chocolate and cream?” He asks, and you nod.

“Of course,” you tell him, dumping the previous mug and grabbing another. “I’ll have that right up for you. You can head back to where you were sitting,” you inform him.

He shakes his head. “I can wait here. Save us both a trip.”

You nod. “Sure,” you say with a smile, prepping more espresso. “The redeye and americano are pretty different in caffeine though, the americano is going to have more since there’s more espresso.”

“I just need as much caffeine as I can get. Tough day ahead,” he nods.

“I’ve been told bartenders and baristas are wonderful ears to listen,” you offer, a sweet smile on your face.

His guard has fallen like a wrecking ball through a house of cards at the way you smile. “Well, I’m with the DEA.” It feels strange, openly admitting that around here. Colombians weren’t exactly welcoming to American agents, but it felt like citizens around here saw them as some kind of superhero.

Your eyes light. “Shouldn’t it be a fantastic day for you then?” you ask. “I mean, it’s all over the news. Escobar. Do you know the guys in the photo?” You ask with excitement in your voice.

He nods. Escobar was killed yesterday, and it’s all over the news, including the paper back at his table. “Yeah. The blonde guy in the red shirt is actually my work partner. It’s a tough day because I didn’t get to be there when it happened. I’ve been down in Colombia for years now, and they catch Escobar two days after I leave.”

The smile on your face turns to a frown. “That’s… awful,” you nod, eyes full of sadness for him. “I’m so sorry. At least it must be nice to be home?” you ask, tilting your head slightly and pouring the espresso shots into the mug.

He shakes his head. “D.C. isn’t home. I’m from Texas,” he admits, and the way he speaks finally registers as a slightly slowed speech pattern from the area. “I’m happy for Steve though. The blonde one, my partner. He deserves it. We’ve been down there for… Jesus,” he sighs and looks at the ceiling as he counts the years, “well, a while now. Couple of years. I fucked up, bad. Honestly, I think I’m up here to get fired.”

You frown slightly as you pump the chocolate into the hot espresso and water, swirling it around with a spoon. “You worked on Escobar for years?” you ask, and Javier nods. “Well, then I personally doubt you’d be getting fired. You guys just caught him, everyone must be in a good mood. I guess it depends on how bad you fucked up,” you shrug as you tap the spoon into the sink and bend down to grab the cream.

“I… do you know who Los Pepes are?” he asks. You shake your head as you stand, pouring some cream into the steaming drink. “Well, they’re a radical group who did some crazy shit to try to weaken Escobar, and I got involved with them. I have a meeting today with the review board.”

You finally make eye contact with him, wincing for him. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound great,” you admit with a chuckle, putting the cream back in the little refrigerator beneath you.

“It’s not.”

“It’s not necessarily why you got called up here,” you shrug and grab a saucer, putting the mug on top of it and on the bar for him to take.

“Well, I don’t know, I suppose,” he agrees and takes the drink from you.

You shrug. “Best of luck, Javier,” you tell him with a genuine smile of encouragement.

He nods, looking at your name tag attached to your apron. He murmurs your name before looking back up at your face and into your eyes. “Thank you.” He takes his drink and returns to his table, and you sigh and return to your makeshift chair in the corner.

Mandy pulls up two crates next to you, sitting down across from you with gleaming eyes. “Did it go well? You two talked for a while,” she asks, raising her eyebrows and encouraging you to tell her more.

“A little, but just… how I would with anyone, I guess,” you shrug as you sip your mocha for a moment, drinking the last of the warm coffee. “Not like I got his number or anything.”

“He’s sitting down to drink his coffee. Go offer him a refill when he’s done.”

“That would require me to stare at him, Mandy, and I think he’d notice that,” you shake your head as you stand to make yourself a new drink.

She stands with you, pushing the crates out of the way. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you. I’ll signal to you when he’s done or getting low on coffee, and you can bring him a refill. How does that sound?” she asks you.

You nod with a sigh. “Since you’re apparently not going to let this go, fine. I will.”

Mandy claps her hands together excitedly. “Yay!” She sings. “Oh, will you make me a drink while you’re at it? I’ll have a-”

“Skim hazelnut latte with no foam and light whip,” you recite before she can finish her order.

“You’re a babe,” she sings and heads over to clean the tables that haven’t even been touched since she wiped them an hour ago.

You make her drink and set it aside, then work on your own, fourth coffee. The peppermint and the coffee swirl together deliciously in the air, fitting the weather and the time of year. It’s December, and the snow outside and the warm feeling from the man across the coffee shop contrast in your heart. You sneak glances at him a couple of times, biting your lip to hold back a smile as you admire the handsome face peeking above the newspaper he reads.

About ten minutes later, you look up from cleaning the machines to see Mandy tucked behind a wall where he can’t see her. She’s frantically waving at you, pointing towards Javier once she catches your attention. Go, she mouths excitedly, beaming at you.

You wipe your hands on your apron and walk to where she stands. “Fine, I will, but you’re making the drinks if anyone else comes in.”

“Oh no, how will I handle it?” She asks in a deadpan, eyeing the shop that’s empty except for the two of you and Javier. “Go,” she says, giving you a light shove and giggling.

You shake your head but walk over, placing a hand lightly on the table. “Coffee’s looking low. Could I get you a refill?” you offer.

Javier looks up at you, and you feel like turning to jelly as you look into his big brown eyes, filled with confusion but also admiration. He furrows his brow, creating small creases between his eyebrows. “Uh… sure. How much is it?” he asks, reaching for his wallet and setting down the newspaper.

You put a hand on his arm, giving a gentle smile. “You need it. It’s on the shop,” you tell him.

“No, seriously, what, like $5?” he asks, but you put a hand over his.

“No, Javier,” you chuckle lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Another americano with chocolate and cream?” you ask.

“Uh… make me whatever you like best. And bring one for yourself too.” He says, well, really asks, nodding to the empty chair across from him. “It’s not too busy to talk, is it?”

You swallow hard before you break into a grin. “No, not at all. Uh… do you like peppermint?” you ask.

“Peppermint is good,” he says, giving you a small smile.

“Perfect,” you smile softly at him, picking up his empty mug and saucer. “We have a peppermint mocha, it’s seasonal. It’s my favorite, I’ll be right back with them,” you say, giggling softly and biting your lip as you turn and walk back to the bar.

You’re hidden behind the espresso machines as you finally grin and giggle, and Mandy rushes to your side. “Oh my God,” she laughs happily. “He’s so hot. What were you guys talking about?”

“He asked me to sit with him,” you giggle excitedly, preparing four espresso shots.

She nearly squeals with excitement, grabbing your arm closest to her. You scoop some chocolate chips and pour milk into a pitcher, putting it under the steam wand. “Holy shit. What has he told you so far? What’s his story?”

“Well, he said he’s a DEA agent. He’s on leave from work right now, but the guy in the red shirt in that picture of Escobar after they killed him? That’s his partner,” you tell her, letting the excitement speed your words up. “He’s been in Colombia for a couple of years working on it. Isn’t that cool?” You laugh.

“So cool,” she nods in agreement. “And he’s so fucking cute. Girl, you need to get your ass back there before I steal him myself.”

You laugh as you pour the shots and then the steamed milk into the mugs. “I’m trying, but you holding onto one of my arms is holding me back, love,” you tease her and she breaks away. You top both mugs with a perfectly peaked whipped cream layer, then sprinkle candy cane pieces and chocolate chips on top. “Wish me luck,” you practically sing as you walk back with a mug for each of you.

Javier’s holding back a grin himself as you make the drinks. He can see your head bobbing along behind the bar, the other woman chatting with you. He’s more transfixed than you than he should allow himself to be, but all fears fade as he sees you approaching with a grin and two large, whipped cream-topped drinks.

You set the drink down in front of him and he smiles at you. “Wow. This…” he looks down at it and smiles a little. “Well, it looks sweet.”

“I have a sweet tooth,” you admit with a soft laugh and sit down, taking a sip and sighing softly. “It tastes like winter. I love it.” He nods and takes a sip too. It’s sweet, but not as bad as he expected. “I added extra espresso to yours,” you tell him, a shy smile on your face.

“A woman after my own heart,” he chuckles and sets it down, licking the foam off of his mustache.

You smile a little wider at that and hold back a laugh. “Did you want to talk about the meeting?” you ask him, tilting your head, your expression softening.

Javier’s already falling, and he curses himself as he looks at you. Not a thought except him. He’s already thinking of a sly way to get your number. “No, not really. I just spilled basically my entire life story to you.”

“Then you’ve had a very short and boring life. That was hardly anything. I’ve had customers come in and cry over divorces or lost family members; the whole job situation was mild,” you chuckle and admit, tracing the rim of the mug with your fingertips and staring down at the steaming drink.

“Really? You seem like a therapist and a barista in one,” he teases lightly.

“Well, I did just graduate with a Masters in psychology,” you shrug. “I just graduated with it from Georgetown. That’s why I’m here,” you tell him and look up. “Working here part-time while I decide what I want to do.”

“No shit. I did my undergrad in psych and sociology,” Javier says with a small smile, making your smile grow too. “Texas A&M though. Nothing as prestigious as Georgetown.”

“A&M isn’t anything to sneeze at,” you chuckle as you look over at him. His eyes are deep-set, deeper than they probably normally are. They’re bloodshot and hold bags beneath them. After a breath, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “You look tired. I don’t know you normally, I understand. Maybe you shouldn’t finish this,” you tell him with a concerned smile, scooting his mug towards you. “Too much caffeine.”

“No, I need it, please,” he says, tugging it back and sipping at it again. “Just… until after this meeting. Then I’ll know what my future holds, then I can rest.”

“What time is it at?”

“5:00.”

There’s a beat of silence. “I don’t have any plans tonight,” you say gently, looking at him with a question in your eyes. “Would you like to get dinner? Talk things out, once you know what your future holds?” You offer, a soft smile and hopeful eyes. “I already know enough about you. This could be practice therapy for me,” you tease softly.

Javier thinks for a second, though he knows what the answer will be. At least pretends to think, surprised that you could hear all he had said about Los Pepes and working in Colombia and that you still offered. “I’d like that,” he nods, his voice soft when he looks at you. “I don’t know the area well. You’ll have to tell me where.”

“Do you have a car up here?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. “I can pick you up,” you offer. “Where are you staying?”

He grabs a napkin and pats his pockets for a pen. You hand him the paint pen tucked on your apron and he quickly thanks you before writing down the address to the hotel. You take the napkin and the pen and grab another napkin. “And this…” you say and write down your phone number, sliding it to him, “is where you’ll call me when you’re ready for me to come get you. Okay?” You ask.

Your voice is so soothing, Javier thinks. More than sleep or reassurance or even a hit of Escobar’s private stash or really anything could be to him right now, it’s a comfort. You must be a miracle, he thinks, some kind of blessing for something he isn’t quite sure of, but he must have done something right in the eyes of the Almighty to be here, right now, talking with you. “You know, I was raised Catholic,” he tells you and leans in a little. “I don’t know that I am anymore. But still… I think you might be an angel in disguise.”

Biting your lip, you giggle and look down. “I don’t know about that,” you chuckle as you look up at him again. “Just… right place, right time, maybe. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you ask him, placing your hand over his and standing.

Javier nods as he looks up at you. “How should I dress?” he asks and tilts his head. His eyes are so expressive, you notice and smile a bit. They betray exactly what he’s thinking.

“Um… what you’re wearing now would be fine. A button down and jeans would work,” you tell him with a nod, patting his hand and picking up your mug. “I’ll see you then. Good luck,” you tell him with a sweet smile and retreat to the back. Javier can’t say anything in return, just sips his peppermint mocha.

Three minutes later, you return with a muffin. “Eat this. You can’t have all that caffeine and no food.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and looks down at it. You’re gone when he looks back up, and he breaks off a piece. What a weird day. It’s only about to get weirder.

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amysteriousmessenger · 4 years

Note

have you ever done rfa headcanons with a stressed out mc? because of like deadlines and stuff? cause that's the state I'm in rn and I need comfort ;-;

this is my second time writing this because my laptop deleted it ;-; I hope this is okay and I added V and Saeran because I’m a saeran simp <3

RFA + Saeran and V with a Stressed Out Reader Headcanons

Yoosung Kim with a stressed out Reader Headcanons

Yoosung’s in the exact same camp as you, screaming. He spent the entire semester in front of his PC playing LOLOL and getting bullied by Seven, so now his deadline has creeped up on him. Yoosung absolutely understands the stress of a deadline coming at you fast and not being sure as to whether you can complete it in time.

The best thing that Yoosung can do for you is to do his own work. The two of you spend a straight 48 hours in the library, only taking breaks to go home and sleep and get food. You book out a private room and just mutually get your heads down.

Yoosung’s actually really smart, he just doesn’t apply himself. If you’re stuck on anything, he’ll try to help you even if he doesn’t know anything about your course. He’ll also run around the library finding you specific textbooks you need if he needs a walk or if he’s on his way back from getting you both a coffee.

The life of a student is a hard one, but the two of you just keep reminding each other than you just gotta get through this one deadline and then you can sleep and play to your hearts content once again!

Zen/Hyun Ryu with a stressed out Reader Headcanons

It’s times like this that Zen thinks maybe he should have applied himself more in school, or at least got his qualifications, because he feels a little deflated at the fact that he can’t really help you with your work when you need it. He just looks at your laptop and textbooks and draws a blank. He hates seeing you so stressed, and he hates that he’s useless to help even more.

He figured that, if he can’t help you work, the next best thing would be to help you relax afterwards. He tries to keep out of your way, the best he can, but he gets a little sad and feels neglected, so he’s a bit like a puppy when he can sense you’re close to finishing up for the day.

Zen thinks a nice, hot bubble bath would help you relax best. He’ll run you one when you close your laptop, leading you to the bathroom where he’s already sprinkled some rose petals and sweetly scented body oils into the steamy water.

He’ll help you in, and then sit on the side of the bath and give your shoulders a rub, commenting on how they must ache after sitting at your desk for so long. It’s no secret that Zen has ~Magic Fingers~ and he massages away the tension in your neck as you melt into the soothing water.

He’ll hum and sing little songs to you as he does this, finally happy that he can help you in his own special way. Ignore his comments about stress ageing you quicker, he’s just saying it as a pre-emptive measure rather than implying you have stress lines.

Jaehee Kang with a stressed out Reader Headcanons

Jaehee exists in a permanent state of stress, so she entirely understands what it’s like to have to meet deadline after deadline after deadline. If you tell her that you want to sit with her so you can share her concentration and get work done, she’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee. She’s also ready with the eye drops and painkillers for when your eyes get strained, but she’d really rather you not get to the point of needing them.

Jaehee reminds you that you need to look after yourself, make sure you’re taking breaks and eating enough. She doesn’t want you to follow in her steps of pulling an all-nighter, so she doesn’t disturb you so you can get as much of your work done as possible. If you want her to, she’ll also gently reprimand you when you’re getting distracted or off task. She doesn’t like telling you what you can and can’t do, but she knows it’s going to help you in the long run.

She’ll aim to get all of her work done at the same time as you, so the two of you can at least have some time to unwind together afterwards. She’ll put your favourite musical (of Zen’s) into the DVD player and you cuddle up with one another in recovery. She’ll also try to pull you in for an early night of sleep since you’ve been staring at a screen all day and doesn’t want you to get a headache.

Jumin Han with a stressed out Reader Headcanons

Jumin never really gets stressed out over anything. In fact, the only things you’ve ever seen him get stressed about are you and Elizabeth the Third. He doesn’t really have the need or see the point in getting stressed over things, especially deadlines. Jumin will absolutely go off on a speech about correct time management and planning before you have to interrupt him and tell him that that’s not the problem.

Having a Mensa-level IQ, Jumin’s probably already decently knowledge on your area of study, or offers to pay for you to have a tutor. Jumin’s honestly not the best person to be around when you’re stressed by deadlines because he really can’t relate to the panic, he’s too good at being a businessman that he gets everything done on time or, most usually, early.

You do have to remind Jumin that not everyone can function and organise themselves as well as he can.

However, it displeases him to see you stressed so he’ll at least try to help with that since you won’t let him help you academically. He’ll share a bottle of wine with you in the evening after you’ve finished for the day to help take your mind off of your deadline for a bit and will plan a small weekend getaway for the week after your assignment due date to reward you for getting your work done in time and to help you relax. He’ll also book you a spa day in one of C&R’s own establishments so he can guarantee you’re getting the best treatment.

Saeyoung Choi with a stressed out Reader Headcanons

This man lives with more existential fear than anyone. He knows what it’s like to be Stressed TM. Seven’s an absolute genius with an IQ that could rival Jumin’s if he cared enough, so he’s never had to worry about academic worries, even when he was in University.

If you ask him to, and maybe even if you didn’t, he’d be willing to hack your college or University’s database in order to either get the essay questions in advance so you know what to revise, or just straight up get the answers. He knows what frightening deadlines are like and he doesn’t want to see you suffer.

If you say that you don’t want him to hack your university because that’s, y’know, illegal, he’ll earnestly take a look at your paper and try to help. Seven has such a weird widespread collection of information in his head that he can just straight up tell you the essay or directly get the research essay that best fits your argument online. You said he can’t hack your university database, you didn’t say he can’t hack other databases for information.

If you passed out asleep at your desk, you’d absolutely wake up to find your work finished and submitted. Seven will deny doing it, claiming that the alien mothership must have taken your laptop and completed your work, but he has a shit-eating grin plasters on his face and he’s oh-so-innocently fluttering his eyelashes.

Saeran Choi with a stressed out Reader Headcanons

Saeran never really went to school, so he doesn’t have much experience with academic work but he picks it up very quickly when it comes to helping you!

He brings you hot chocolate and snacks and gives you a kiss on the side of the head every now and then to spur you on. He’ll also try to help you with reading through documents and essays for important information and anything that might be relevant to your course. From his time at Magenta, he’s very good at skimming through large quantities of work and compiling it into shorter documents so he’s absolutely a great person to have helping you. He has a similar IQ to Seven and is a genius in his own right, but he has to apply himself more to knowing about different topics because he’s never really had the opportunity to, but he’s always very interested to know about what you’re studying!

He’s very good at not disturbing you if you need peace and quiet, so he’ll busy himself with cleaning, cooking or going out in the garden so he can leave you without a distraction whilst occasionally dropping in to see how you’re doing and make sure you’re not getting too stressed out.

When you’re done for the day, Saeran will arrange the time to give you a little comfort evening with movies and a snack to make you feel better and help you unwind.

Ray would absolutely just do your work for you, if you’d let him. He just wants to please you and see you happy, not swallowed up in stress in the same way that he has to be. He’d go without sleeping or eating if it meant helping you. Of course, you’re not going to let him do that, since you want him to rest properly, but he still wants to help. Ray would send you documents and essays when he’s supposed to be working and then exit the tab whenever anyone walks passed his room so he didn’t get caught. He just wants to ease your burden!

V/Jihyun Kim with a stressed out Reader Headcanons

He’s also incredibly smart, but probably wouldn’t have any major knowledge on what is it that you study but he’d help the best way he can. He’s the kinda person that would encourage you to read through the questions several times before you start answering and to not write anything down until you’re fully sure that you understand the source material and what is being asked of you.

He doesn’t like seeing you stressed and he’s helpful by nature so he’d ask if you needed help, and if you say no, he’ll give you space to get on with your work without interruption. V will make you food and bring your lunch with a coffee when it’s time to eat.

Like Jumin, he’d offer to share a bottle of wine to help you unwind when you’re getting too stressed in the evening, and if you can afford to take a break, he’d encourage you to do something creative like painting with him in his studio in order to take your mind off the analytical stuff. It doesn’t have to be good, it just had to help you relax and vent your frustrations!

V gets stiff shoulders when he’s been in the same position for long periods of time painting or waiting to capture a particular image, so he understands the usefulness of a good back rub and he’ll offer you one to loosen up the pressure in the back of your neck when you’re sitting at your desk. He’ll massage his thumbs into your shoulders and plant a little kiss on your lips when you lean your head back to look at him.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger x reader #mystic messenger reader insert #mystic messenger self insert #jumin han #saeran choi #saeyoung choi #jihyun kim #yoosung kim #zen mystic messenger #hyun ryu #jaehee kang #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger hcs #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger hc

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koolkat9 · 3 years

Text

HWS Germany Ship Event 2021: Day 1

Prompt: Highschool

Paring: GerEng, side of Itapan

Promposal Gone Wrong? Or Right?

“You and Arthur are going to prom right?” Feliciano asked.

Ludwig almost choked on his food at the sudden question. He, Feliciano, and Kiku were having lunch and of course, as usual, Feliciano was complaining about the cafeteria food (why he didn’t just bring his own was the question Ludwig always had but never voiced), so when he suddenly asked about prom, Ludwig was thrown off slightly. Honestly, he wasn’t planning it. He and Arthur weren’t big on social events and were quite content just settling in at home with a movie. But now that Feliciano was bringing it up, he had never asked if Arthur was interested and maybe he should have. It was a tradition and if done right, very romantic, and Arthur tended to like both.

“I-I don’t know. W-We haven’t really talked about it?” Ludwig stuttered out, picking at the sausage he had prepared for himself that morning.

“You have to Luddy! It's tradition. Picture, you and Arthur, all dressed up in nice suits, low lights, music blaring. A slow dance comes on, you both look at each other hesitantly, but you end up taking his hand and guide him to the dance floor. Wrapping your arms around each other you begin swaying, you tell him how much you love him and-”

“Okay I get the picture,” Ludwig grumbled, his cheeks now bright red. That scenario did seem nice, but he still wasn’t sure.

“You should talk to Arthur about it first,” Kiku suggested, “if you do end up going, you can ride with Feliciano and me.”

Kiku was a breath of fresh air. As much as he loved Feliciano and his enthusiasm, he could be a bit much at times. Kiku balanced him out with his calm and level-headedness. They were the perfect match for each other and surprisingly worked out really well. He gave them an assuring smile and agreed to ask Arthur.

Not long after, said Brit entered the cafeteria, his eyes scanning over the room. When his eyes met Ludwig, his lips twitched into a small smile and he made his way over. With a quick kiss on Ludwig’s cheek, he took a seat beside him and took out his lunch. “Did I miss anything,” he asked, looking around at the three friends.”

Feliciano turned to Ludwig, nodding towards Arthur and encouraging him to ask his question.

“Just prom things,” Ludwig replied, trying to keep his nerves out of his voice. He let out an awkward cough before continuing, “S-Speaking of... I-I was wondering...how do you feel about it?”

Arthur quirked a brow. “Well, I haven’t thought about it. But it's one of the last events of our high school year so maybe...u-unless you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind. I-If you’d like to go. Kiku and Feli are also going if that’s any incentive.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his two friends watching them with fond smiles and Feliciano was clearly suppressing a squeal. He never understood why his relationship seemed to bring so much joy to Kiku and Feliciano, but he never asked since it wasn’t hurting anyone so why bother?

Ignoring their antics Ludwig turned his attention back to his lover who seemed to be mulling the idea over. “Alfred has been bugging me about it,” Arthur finally stated, “And a night out with friends would be nice.”

“So it looks like we’re in agreement.” Arthur gave the German’s arm a squeeze before turning his attention to his meal.

Ludwig couldn’t help but feel elated even though he wasn’t one for parties, but anything with Arthur made him happy. This feeling did not last long however as he recalled the tradition of a ‘’prom-prosal.” Was Arthur expecting one? Did he want one? Or was Arthur going to take the lead in this? Did they even need one in the first place since they were dating? Should he ask? But they were usually a surprise, weren’t they?

“Love...is everything okay?” Arthur asked, pulling Ludwig out of his thoughts. “We don’t have to go to prom if you don’t want to.”

“N-Nien, it's nothing like that. I’m just…”

“Overthinking?”

“Ja…”

They had almost forgotten Feliciano and Kiku were there until they announced their departure. “I think we better get going, Feli. We got that big project coming up this week so let's get to class early to get the best supplies.”

Feliciano scrunched his nose up in confusion, but then it dawned on him what his boyfriend’s true motives were. “Oh, si. Bye Lud, bye Arthur!”

And so the other pair of lovers were left alone at the table. They fell into casual conversation, Arthur hoping to get Ludwig’s mind off whatever he was thinking about. It seemed to be working as he was engaged and there was a slight smile on his face much to Arthur’s relief. Soon enough, however, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and Arthur and Ludwig parted ways for class.

---

It had been a couple of days since Ludwig had agreed to go to prom with Arthur and since then he had been stressing over it, specifically if a promposal was in order.

“I say go for it,” Gilbert, Ludwig’s older brother, suggested, “what’s the worst that could happen? Who could be mad at a grand romantic gesture?”

“I-I don’t know...he..we aren’t big on that kind of thing. And what could I even do?”

“Well...do something unique to you. And like you said, you guys don’t do grand so don’t worry about whatever everyone else is doing, Do something unique to you.”

With a ruffle of Ludwig’s hair, Gilbert got up and headed to the kitchen to start dinner.

“Something unique to us,” Ludwig muttered to himself. His phone buzzed and a message popped up on his screen. Of course, Feliciano was asking if he had any ideas yet. After typing a simple reply of ‘I’m still thinking’ he exited the messaging app to his home screen. He lingered on the background photo. Arthur, laughing, cheeks pink and face covered in batter and flour. Ludwig couldn’t help but smile at the picture and the memory it brought.

It was from one of their first dates. Both of them liked baking so Ludwig had invited Arthur over to teach him how to make Kuchen. Despite Ludwig’s nerves, things had been going well until he had to mix the batter. He had become distracted one way or another and ended up setting the mixer too high leading to himself and Arthur becoming covered in batter. He expected the Englishman to be angry since he was often quick to temper, but instead, he was met with the beautiful sound of Arthur’s laughter. For a moment his brain stopped working and just listened, mesmerized by it. He had snapped the picture shortly after to save the moment. Looking back, he was surprised Arthur had let him keep it, but then again, the man was full of surprises. He often let Ludwig get away with things no one else could, which he was grateful for.

As he admired the picture, an idea came to mind. Practically jumping from his spot he ran over to the bookshelf, skimming through for a particular one. He eventually came across an old, brown-covered book whose title read “Beilschmidt Rezepte.” He flipped through it eventually landing on a simple cake recipe. 'What's more us than baking?’ Ludwig thought to himself as he grabbed a piece of paper and began writing down the needed ingredients.

---

The next day, Ludwig got to school even earlier than usual to ensure everything was in order before Arthur arrived. He placed down the box, opening it to make sure the icing didn’t smear (he had brought some extra tubes of icing in case he had to fix anything) and luckily it was untouched. The words ‘Will you go to prom with me?’ were written in clear, loopy green letters.

“Ludwig?” A familiar voice called, causing the German to immediately shut the box. Arthur walked up behind him, guitar in hand and a quizzical look on his face. “What are you doing here so early?”

Ludwig felt his cheeks heat up, feeling as though he had been caught. “W-Well you...you see…I...here.” Without another word, Ludwig shoved the box towards Arthur.

“Ludwig…” Arthur broke out into a fit of laughter leading to Ludwig’s blush deepening. His chest became tight and something like humiliation began to sink in. Usually, Arthur's laugher was a beautiful sound for him, but he couldn't help but feel hurt, thinking Arthur was laughing at him and his promposal. At least no one was around to witness this awkwardness.

“What’s so funny?” Ludwig finally hissed out.

His laughter finally began to die down. “I’m...I’m… so sorry love. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, it's just...I had been planning something too.”

Before Ludwig could reply, Arthur put the cake aside, pulled out his guitar, and began to strum a familiar tune.

“Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Ludwig was left speechless as his lover’s sweet voice filled the air, proclaiming his love loudly. The green eyes that Ludwig loved so much remained fixated on him as the song continued. It sent the German’s heart fluttering and made his throat tight.

“Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help falling in love with you

For I can’t help falling in love with you”

And as the song came to an end and Arthur lowered his guitar, he gave Ludwig a loving smile before saying, “Ludwig...will you go to prom for me?”

“I don’t know Arthur,” Ludwig replied, a smirk growing on his face as he picked up the cake once more, “would you go to prom with me.”

Arthur let out another laugh, “Of course my darling.”

And so the two made their way inside to the cafeteria where they got some plastic utensils and shared some cake before everyone else arrived.

#germanyshipevent2021 #hetalia #hws #gereng #engger #geruk #human au #highschool au #promposal #i didn't get a prom so they get one #fluff #hws england #hws germany #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #itapan #though its on the side #hws italy #hws japan

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bi-naesala · 3 years

Text

A "romantic" bathroom confession

Fandom: Yakuza Rating: G Warnings: / Relationships: Han Joon-gi/Zhao Tianyou Characters: Zhao Tianyou, Han Joon-gi, Kim Yeonsu Additional Tags: Emotional Constipation, Love Confessions Summary:

Sure, he could ask him directly what’s going on, but he has the feeling that, by asking him, they’ll both have to uncover some parts of themselves that Zhao doesn’t think they’ll ever be able to show the other, not when they’ve lived so long without ever showing their cards to anyone. No, he’d better not ask. Who knows if he’d like the answer Han gives him anyway.

(Also on AO3)

It’s been a couple of days since when… well, Zhao doesn’t know exactly what happened, but Han has been acting weird: at first, he was quiet, or at least quieter than usual, then he’s begun doing some small things that can only perplex Zhao.

First things first, the pda. Well, to normal couple standards it isn’t much, but considering that we’re talking about Joon-gi Han, it is: he’s begun hovering over him during every moment of pause, going even as far as brushing their shoulders together or even hold his hand and doing all those romantic gestures that a one-week boyfriend would make in order to impress you, which isn’t something that Han really has to do: he’s already impressive on his own, without the need for any of this.

Not that Zhao doesn’t enjoy being pampered, don’t get him wrong, but this doesn’t mean that this sudden change of behavior doesn’t confuse him.

Is Han planning something? He can’t help but to wonder about that…

No, he’d better not ask. Who knows if he’d like the answer Han gives him anyway.

When Zhao takes his first step outside Survive, he almost jumps when he notices Han, crouched down in front of a vase, the one usually Ichiban uses to in order to grow vegetables for the barkeeper. That’s not something he was expecting to see. Curious.

“Han-chan, what are you doing there?”

“Oh?” Han turns his head towards him, not having noticed him there at first. “Nothing much. I’m watching them grow.” Them being two plants of lillies, who everyone knows is his favorite.

“Are these the ones Kasuga-kun said he was trying to grow?” he asks then, crouching down beside Han.

“No,” the other replies, not moving his gaze away from the blossoming flowers. “These I planted myself.”

Zhao hums at those words, though his face betrays no emotion.

What the hell is this?

Now, Zhao doesn’t want to make assumptions, but it’s pretty fucking obvious what Han wants to do with the flowers he’s going to harvest, c’mon!

Why is he doing all this? They’re already together, there’s no need for any of this typical couple bullshit!

Oh well, if one day Han shows up with a bouquet for him, he’s not going to complain.

After all, thinking about it, there’s a place that needs a bit of… something. Yeah, a nice vase of flowers over the shelf at the entrance would look nice, thinking about it.

Usually, when they want to have dinner, they’d go to Meng Wu and Zhao would cook something for them, which might seem cheap, but they don’t mind it. Besides, it feels more intimate like this, and it’s also good since they don’t really want to draw attention to themselves and in Meng Wu that’s not going to happen.

This time, however, things are different: Han has insisted upon taking Zhao to dinner and, after a moment of perplexity, Zhao has accepted, because he doesn’t mind change and he’s curious to see where Han’s taking him.

“Wow…” is all Zhao is able to say once he realizes where Han is taking him, standing in front of the entrance of the place.

Of all things, he wasn’t expecting Le Nouveau Hama. It’s very different from the usual restaurants they go to - they never go anywhere this fancy, even with the others.

He turns towards Han. “You managed to book us a table here?”

“Impressed?” Han replies. He looks very pleased with himself, and for once Zhao can’t really blame him.

No, he can’t blame him at all.

As soon as they enter, Zhao feels immediately gazes drawn towards them. Maybe they should’ve dressed more accordingly to the place they’ll be eating at, instead of wearing the same kind of clothes they’d wear on the adventure with the others, but heh, who cares.

At least the waiter that greets them does nothing to make them feel like they don’t belong here.

“Good evening gentlemen, did you have a reservation?” he asks them.

“Indeed we do,” Han replies, still looking quite happy with himself.

“Of course. Follow me.”

Once they get to their table, they sit down and begin to skim through the menu. Ooooh, so many things Zhao would like to try, but the budget…

“Ah, I forgot to mention this to you, but I would like to pay for both of us today.”

Zhao almost reels back at those words, staring at the man sitting in front of him. “Really?”

Han nods. “Yes, I’ve been meaning to do something like this for a while…”

Again, Zhao wonders what Han’s playing at, being all nice and chivalrous like this. First the flowers - which now indeed sit on the shelf like Zhao had planned - and now this; he must have something in mind, mustn’t he?

Eh, what the hell. After all, it works for him.

“Alright. Sounds good to me.”

Despite the fact that Han’s paying, Zhao still decides not to go too overboard with his order, because he’s not a fucking asshole.

Han doesn’t say anything about it, but Zhao is able to see a shadow of relief in his eyes, and he can’t help but to chuckle at that.

See, that’s what you get when you try to be romantic.

Zhao has to admit it: the food here is divine.

The tartare is exquisite, and the lobster is too. He would love to have a chat with the chef responsible for these delicacies, and maybe even exchange recipes, but at the moment this isn’t what he’s thinking about.

They’ve both been quite talkative today, and he means both of them, when usually Zhao’s the one running his mouth while Han nods along. It’s like Han’s putting more effort than usual… but this is too much for Zhao.

“Why are you doing this?”

Han looks at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Zhao chastises him, then he gestures to all around him. “This. What the hell is this? You think we’re in some kind of romantic comedy where any of this is necessary?”

Han remains silent, prompting Zhao to continue.

“What is it that you’re after, Han-chan? I mean, there’s no need to get into my panties ‘cause you already do that, so what is it?”

Still silence from Han, at least until he abruptly gets up from his seat and begins to walk away.

“Excuse me.”

Uhm…

“No, wait, Han-chan come back! I didn’t mean--”

Didn’t mean what, exactly, huh? To spit all that shit while Han was just trying to be nice?

It’s always like this with him: people try to get close, only for him to push them away. Old habits die hard, and Zhao has always had to keep himself and others around him in check; he was supposed to be the leader of the Liumang, and you can’t do that if you don’t learn how to shield yourself from potential threats, and sharing a strong bond with someone is the biggest threat of them all.

The problem with Han is that they have gotten incredibly close, so Zhao’s old instincts kick in, but does he want to push him away? Not really. He’s not the leader anymore, he’s nothing, actually. What would the harm be in trying to have something with someone he - even though it’s hard to admit it - cares about?

Goddamn… he’s ruined everything with his damned own hands, hasn’t he?

No, maybe he can still save it, if only he could manage to get up from this fucking chair.

Where did Han go? Ah, the bathroom. At least he hasn’t left the building, which Zhao supposes is a good sign - or maybe just a not so bad sign.

There’s only one problem: if he follows him, if he manages to get him to hear him out… he’ll have to be honest, and for him there’s nothing scarier than having to be honest about what’s going on inside his head.

Isn’t the same for Han, though? That’s the reason why they get along so well, because they understand that sometimes you just not want to talk about that stuff and that’s fine, and yet he’s going all the way to do all these romantic gestures that have surely cost him a lot of effort, all for his sake.

… Maybe being opening up wouldn’t be so bad now, wouldn’t it?

He finally manages to get up.

Fuck it. It’s about he and Had have an honest conversation anyway.

When he gets to the bathroom, he finds Han in front of one of the sinks. He must’ve washed his face because it’s still wet, but he’s doing nothing to dry it, instead he keeps looking in the mirror on the wall, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Han-chan…”

Those words manage to snap Han out of whatever mood he was in, and he turns towards Zhao, looking slightly surprised to see him there. “Uhm, Zhao… You’re here too.”

“No, I’m just a figment of your imagination,” Zhao instinctively replies, before remembering that he’s supposed to be nice this time. He shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t mean that…”

C’mon, Zhao. Take a nice, deep breath, and fucking talk.

“Ok, look, Han-chan, I’ve… I’ve been unfair to you. You were doing all these nice things, and I’ve got on the defensive. The truth is that I like you, I like being with you and do crazy shit together and not just that. Even the normal stuff, the domestic shit… I really like that.”

Han looks shocked by what Zhao has just said. Heh, he’s just as shocked, to be quite honest.

“I wasn’t expecting this thing we had to become so important to me. Honestly I thought it would be a nice fling and nothing more, and I bet you thought that too, but we’re both fools and got trapped into our own feelings.”

That earns him a chuckle on Han’s part, and he can’t help but to do the same. Yeah, they are both huge idiots.

“When you started doin’ all this nice stuff I panicked. I knew that sooner or later I’d have to face my feelings, so I began lying to myself, pretending that I didn’t understand why you’d go all the way to do something like this, and for me of all people…”

He scratches his neck. “As you can definitely see, I’m not that good at this kind of stuff…”

“I can see that,” Han replies, a small smile on his face that becomes larger as he goes on. “Such a heartfelt confession deserves a better place than a public bathroom, don’t you think?”

This fucking asshole.

Despite the roasting - which he frankly deserves - Zhao can’t help but to laugh. “See? Just proven my own point.”

“I do appreciate it, though,” Han replies, still smiling, then he turns serious. “I came here to find the right words to say, but it seems that you’ve beaten me to the punch.”

Zhao crosses his arms to his chest, shifting his weight on his other leg. “Well? We’ve got one heartfelt bathroom confession, why not having another?”

Han chuckles, shaking his head. “Sure, why not?”

“As you correctly guessed, I’m not the sort of guy to whom this kind of things comes easily, but I knew that it would be worth it in the end, but to tell the truth, I was just being a coward.”

Zhao opens his mouth to interject, but Han raises his hand, prompting him to wait for him to explain himself.

“I started doing this because I wanted to tell you how I felt, but was too scared to actually do it, figuring that you’d understand what I meant without me having to actually say the words. I too was afraid of what would happen if I spoke honestly. I didn’t want to feel that exposed…”

“And here we are now,” Zhao can’t help but to say.

Han nods. “And here we are now…”

He hesitates just for a moment before stepping towards Zhao.

“But I can’t hide anymore the fact that I like…” he stops, frowning. “No, not just like. I… I love you.”

Zhao’s first instinct is to ask him why, why would he love someone like him? But at this point they’re both way past that. Sometimes you just love someone without reason, even though admitting it can be very hard. He knows it.

“I… I love you too.”

He wonders if Han feels as light as he does, having finally admitted it, but he’s not able to ask him because he’s kissing him and, frankly, he doesn’t want to pull away at all, not when Han’s lips taste so sweet.

Unfortunately it doesn’t last as long as both of them would’ve liked, but after all they’ve been missing from their table for who knows how long; someone might get worried and come check on them.

“How about we go back to our meal, and then finish this when we get back?” Zhao proposes.

“Sounds good to me,” Han replies, going to the door and opening it for Zhao. “After you.”

Before, Zhao would’ve gotten irritated at the gesture, but now he just chuckles as he walks out of the bathroom.

“Such a gentleman~”

The rest of their dinner goes splendidly, now that they’ve both said their pieces.

If they had known that being honest with each other wouldn’t have had disastrous consequences, they might’ve done it earlier, but in the end, they did when they were ready, which is how these things should go, isn’t it?

It’s still quite a shock that, of all places, they’ve decided to bare their souls inside a restroom, but oh well, so is life.

At least, it’ll make up for a great story to tell, that’s for sure.

#zhaohan #tianyou zhao #joon-gi han #yakuza #rgg #y7 #my fics #mine #last fic for the exchange

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- THE HOUSE OF GUANT

Now James knew he was missing a joke, and he never appreciated that, not even from his beloved wife. She continued in uncontrollable giggles for a solid ten minutes before he cracked and asked her, again, "what is so funny?" Like before, she merely pressed her lips together tight, but still didn't have back full control of her voice when she answered, "you wouldn't get it, promise. Old joke, I'm honestly over reacting." Finishing did seem to draw her up short, and she looked away from all of them now, no longer smiling.

She wasn't even sure herself why she wouldn't tell them. It certainly had nothing to do with Severus himself, she couldn't cling anymore to that protective urge to keep the Marauders out of their life, a life they hadn't shared in a very long time now. So what if the boys knew Harry had happened upon Snape's old Potions book, they probably would find it ironically funny after they were done bad-mouthing him yet again. Still the words wouldn't come, in explanation for them or herself, and so was relieved when Remus gave in first as she knew he would. The other three boys had a terrible habit of being nosy in all things, thinking they could find out the answer to anything. At least Remus respected when someone didn't want to answer a question, something she genuinely valued right now.

For or the rest of the week's Potions lessons Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince's instructions wherever they deviated from Libatius Borage's, with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn was raving about Harry's abilities, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented.

Sirius at least still found that hilarious, releasing Lily from his curious look to snicker at that some more. Harry had found the best way ever to cheat, though he was quite sure if Slughorn did find out he'd take the book back away, it still wasn't technically doing anything wrong.

Neither Ron nor Hermione was delighted by this. Although Harry had offered to share his book with both of them, Ron had more difficulty deciphering the handwriting than Harry did, and could not keep asking Harry to read aloud or it might look suspicious. Hermione, meanwhile, was resolutely plowing on with what she called the "official" instructions, but becoming increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince's.

Remus got a good chuckle out of that as well, of all the ways Harry had chosen to annoy his friends, he'd picked a book.

"I'm really surprised at Hermione," Sirius said. "I'd have thought she'd murder Harry by now to get herself on a better copy of a book."

"I'm sure she would have, if Harry hadn't shown off with it first," Remus smirked. "Now she's going to stand by her principal."

James didn't acknowledge the pair, still keeping steady eyes on his wife, waiting for her to crack any second. He'd had years of practice.

Lily hardly noticed, she was thinking carefully about this, and found it something she'd never thought of before. Had Snape been teaching his way of Potions for the past years? For now, she didn't think so, and perhaps he had just been giving instructions straight from the books, hoarding his knowledge of their way over the kid's heads. It seemed the type of thing this perversion of her friend would do. It explained why Harry nor his friends would recognize the handwriting as well.

Harry wondered vaguely who the Half-Blood Prince had been. Although the amount of homework they had been given prevented him from reading the whole of his copy of Advanced Potion-Making, he had skimmed through it sufficiently to see that there was barely a page on which the Prince had not made additional notes, not all of them concerned with potion-making. Here and there were directions for what looked like spells that the Prince had made up himself.

Harry whistled in surprise, also still watching his mum, unable to shake the feeling she really did know the answer. Lily misinterpreted his curious look, or ignored it, and explained, "of course spells can be made up, they all have to start from somewhere."

"How though?" He let himself be sidetracked, giving in himself and letting her play this off however she liked. He could understand not wanting to answer for some things.

"Taking the base root of magic and channeling it into spells is complex, to utilize that further is to begin creating it yourself. For example if there weren't a spell to bring something to you, the ideal way to create one would be to learn in what way your using your magic to repel something from you. In our particular case, as we use Latin, finding the correct combination of words, movement, and power to magic what you're wanting to you would create, well, the summoning spell." Her eyes remained distant through all this, like she was spouting a lecture more than looking at her son for once. "Supposedly other countries would vary of course, and it is why there's different spells to do one thing. Others found a multitude of ways to accomplish their goals. It's extremely dangerous," she finished cautioning, her eyes far away still, lost in thought, or memories.

Harry was admittedly less fascinated by this than he would have thought, she came across easily as one of his teachers when using that tone, but admitted to himself he'd never before bothered to question this so thanked her for the answer and asked Remus to go on.

Or herself, Hermione corrected irritably, overhearing Harry pointing some of these out to Ron in the common room on Saturday evening. She thought the handwriting looked like a girls.

Lily snorted violently, but tried to cover it by clasping her hand to her nose and sniffling as if it had been a sneeze. She fooled no one.

Harry reminded her of the name, how many girls went by the title of Prince?

"Thought it was more like a made up name, but the same principle stands, not to many girls would go by that title," Remus agreed absently.

Hermione seemed to have no answer to this. She merely scowled and twitched her essay on The Principles of Rematerialization away from Ron, who was trying to read it upside down.

"She could be a bit more helpful to him, he's been on her side a lot this year," Sirius chuckled.

Harry looked at his watch and hurriedly put the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making back into his bag. It was five to eight, he was going to be late for Dumbledore.

Sirius pressed a hand to his forehead, looking wide-eyed and concerned at his pup. "Did you really almost miss that because you were looking at a book?!"

Harry made a face at him, not sure how to explain his fascination with this. Yet another simple book made him uneasy in a way he couldn't explain, and he was starting to wonder if he'd dismissed Ginny to easily.

Hermione looked back up at once with excitement, promising they'd stay up and hear everything.

Harry proceeded through deserted corridors, though he had to step hastily behind a statue when Professor Trelawney appeared around a corner,

"I thought you had your cloak on you at all times?" Sirius asked.

"You should know better than anyone," Harry rolled his eyes, "that jumping to hide behind something is ten times faster than dragging the cloak out of my pocket."

Sirius nodded in agreement, though in his experience he often wandered the castle in it just for shits and giggles to startle other students.

muttering to herself as she shuffled a pack of dirty-looking playing cards, reading them as she walked.

The two of spades: conflict, she murmured, as she passed the place where Harry crouched, hidden. Then the seven of spades: an ill omen. Ten of spades: violence. Knave of spades: a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the questioner-

"That was, oddly specific," Remus muttered, more confused than anything.

"Damn, Harry needs to stay away from those cards," Sirius chuckled, though his laughter was a bit strained this time. He still didn't like how eerily accurate Trelawney's predictions were, even when he was out of the picture now.

She stopped dead, right on the other side of Harry's statue.

She muttered to herself that couldn't be right, now annoyed, and Harry heard her reshuffling vigorously as she set off again,

Both of them burst out laughing that she managed to dismiss herself the one time she'd been so right. The woman's jokes wrote themselves. Lily joined in after a few moments, trying to push the subject away for now, but James hardly noticed, still scrutinizing her.

leaving nothing but a whiff of cooking sherry behind her. Harry waited until he was quite sure she had gone, then hurried off again until he reached the spot in the seventh-floor corridor where a single gargoyle stood against the wall. After giving the password and waiting for the spiral stairs, Harry knocked and waited for Dumbledore to allow him to come in.

They greeted each other politely, Dumbledore hoping Harry had a good first week.

"Better than the last one," Harry muttered, who would have thought he'd still manage to favor Snape over Umbridge.

Harry agreed he had, though Dumbledore chuckled what a busy week it must have been, already having a detention.

James finally looked away from Lily at that, not exactly looking satisfied but engaging his son again, "couldn't be prouder! First starting school points in the negative, now this! You are my legacy."

The boys all chuckled while Lily scoffed, trying to hide her own smile. None of them could really get too worked up over it, anything other than Umbridge's detentions would be laughable.

Harry awkwardly tried to answer, but Dumbledore did not look too stern, simply explaining he'd rearranged with Snape that he would be doing his detention next Saturday instead.

"Damn, was hoping I'd just get out of it," Harry sighed, already knowing from last year this wasn't likely.

Harry agreed without care, he had more pressing matters on his mind than Snapes detention, and now looked around surreptitiously for some indication of what Dumbledore was planning to do with him this evening. The circular office looked just as it always did; the delicate silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, puffing smoke and whirring; portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses dozed in their frames, and Dumbledore's magnificent phoenix, Fawkes, stood on his perch behind the door, watching Harry with bright interest. It did not even look as though Dumbledore had cleared a space for dueling practice.

"I'm sure if you were dueling you wouldn't be doing it in there," Remus corrected, still not convinced that's what this was.

Dumbledore's tone became all business as he addressed this himself, starting with their last conversation and how he'd promise to explain what began Voldemort's attempts to kill Harry fifteen years ago.

"Like?" Sirius drew the word out impatiently. Remus hadn't meant to hesitate, his mind spinning wildly with curiosity, but quickly kept going before Sirius' impatience really pushed through.

Harry pointed out Dumbledore had said he'd already told him everything.

"I think he meant everything relevant to you," Lily offered, though she too was wondering what prompted Dumbledore to continue many months after saying this.

Dumbledore agreed he'd told Harry every fact he knew. Now they would be delving into the thickets of guesswork, what transpired from here could be as wrong as Humphrey Belchers desire for a cheese cauldron.

James burst out with surprised laughter, but all of them were looking more curious than ever for this. It wasn't at all what they'd been thinking it was, and more than that, what would Dumbledore have to be guessing at? While clearly not infallible, as his time with Harry had proven to them, but in what way could this help?

Harry didn't even have the urge to crack a smile for the same. He had that feeling, like he was being lied to, but for the life of him couldn't put his finger on what it was about.

Harry pointed out Dumbledore would think his ideas were right. Dumbledore agreed, but pointed out that he made mistakes, and being cleverer than most, his mistakes tended to be correspondingly larger.

"Nope, not going to disagree with that." The snarky tone Remus used still weirded Sirius out, he'd never heard of his friend speak that way about him and it wasn't something he would get used to easily.

Harry tentatively asked if this would help him with the prophecy? With surviving?

"Well I'd bloody hope so," James worked hard not to say this with a scowl. "We certainly don't need him guessing how that cheese cauldron invention worked instead."

Dumbledore agreed it had everything to do with the prophecy, and he had high hopes it would help him to survive. He then got to his feet and walked around the desk, past Harry, who turned eagerly in his seat to watch Dumbledore bending over the cabinet beside the door. When Dumbledore straightened up, he was holding a familiar shallow stone basin etched with odd markings around its rim. He placed the Pensive on the desk in front of Harry. He noticed Harry looked worried.

They could all see that clearly, and couldn't blame him. So far, no foray into that thing had done much good for his life except depressing the lot of them, James still felt immensely uneasy about his son's reaction to the last one.

Harry had indeed been eyeing the Pensive with some apprehension. His previous experiences with the odd device that stored and revealed thoughts and memories, though highly instructive, had also been uncomfortable. The last time he had disturbed its contents, he had seen much more than he would have wished. But Dumbledore was smiling, saying he would be entering with Harry, and even more unusually, with permission.

"There is a first time for everything," Lily chuckled.

Harry asked what memory they'd be seeing? Dumbledore pulled a tiny vial from his pocket and explained Bob Ogden, an employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He'd died some time ago, but not before Dumbledore had tracked him down and persuaded him to offer these recollections.

"If he died some time ago, why was he just sitting on these memories? Wouldn't he have looked at them long before now?" Harry asked, knowing he'd been to curious about this to ask Dumbledore but the idea still seemed odd.

"I wish we did know more about that man's inner workings," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"It's also possible he has already looked at this, and simply extracted it to show you now, giving you a physical representation of the memory," Lily offered a bit more helpfully.

They were going to be accompanying him upon one of his duties. But Dumbledore was having difficulty pulling out the stopper of the crystal bottle: His injured hand seemed stiff and painful.

Harry offered to do it, but instead Dumbledore pointed his wand at the bottle and the cork flew out.

"Why wouldn't he do that first?" James looked baffled, he'd never bothered otherwise.

Harry asked again what had happened to his hand, looking at the blackened fingers with a mixture of revulsion and pity.

"Asking until they finally crack probably won't work on Dumbledore," Sirius sighed.

"It certainly didn't work on Moony," James agreed.

Dumbledore corrected now was not the time for that story, as he tipped the silvery contents of the bottle into the Pensieve. He prompted Harry to go first. He felt his feet leave the office floor; he was falling, falling through whirling darkness and then, quite suddenly, he was blinking in dazzling sunlight. Before his eyes had adjusted, Dumbledore landed beside him.

They were standing in a country lane bordered by high, tangled hedgerows, beneath a summer sky as bright and blue as a forget-me-not. Some ten feet in front of them stood a short, plump man wearing enormously thick glasses that reduced his eyes to molelike specks. He was reading a wooden signpost that was sticking out of the brambles on the left-hand side of the road. Harry knew this must be Ogden; he was the only person in sight, and he was also wearing the strange assortment of clothes so often chosen by inexperienced wizards trying to look like Muggles: in this case, a frock coat and spats over a striped one-piece bathing costume.

James and Sirius were the only ones who didn't break out into snickers at such a display, but they laughed along anyways for their reactions to it.

Before Harry had time to do more than register his bizarre appearance, however, Ogden had set off at a brisk walk down the lane.

Dumbledore and Harry followed. As they passed the wooden sign, Harry looked up at its two arms. The one pointing back the way they had come read: Great Hangleton, 5 miles. The arm pointing after Ogden said Little Hangleton, 1 mile.

None would easily forget the nightmarish start to Harry's fourth year, and didn't at all appreciate him being back in that environment. Harry couldn't help shivering again at once, memories of that graveyard he still had nightmares about likely over the next hill... but that wasn't even his worst memory anymore. He'd face Voldemort all over again to erase what he'd truly lost only a year later, so he controlled himself hopefully before the others lingering looks could fill with too much pity.

They walked a short way with nothing to see but the hedgerows, the wide blue sky overhead and the swishing, frock-coated figure ahead. Then the lane curved to the left and fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside, so that they had a sudden, unexpected view of a whole valley laid out in front of them. Harry could see a village, undoubtedly Little Hangleton, nestled between two steep hills, its church and graveyard clearly visible.

Remus' voice hitched uncomfortably at their horrifying thought being so right, and only the constant reminder Harry wasn't really there stopped them all from panicking in their own flashback of his time there. Even Dumbledore being present was of some comfort, a feeling they were sure they wouldn't get often, but as the only man left in Harry's life, they had nothing else to rely on.

Across the valley, set on the opposite hillside, was a handsome manor house surrounded by a wide expanse of velvety green lawn.

"Was it not rundown yet?" Sirius demanded, his tone too sharp for the casual question, but he'd do anything to keep conversation alive rather than dwell on other things present.

"Doesn't seem that way, or not nearly as much as it will be, as surely Harry would have noticed," Remus agreed.

"This must have been quite some time ago then, at least before Voldemort murdered his Muggle family," Sirius concluded, the knowledge doing little to comfort him Harry was back around there, even in a memory.

Dumbledore and Harry followed him onto a narrow dirt track bordered by higher and wilder hedgerows than those they had left behind. The path was crooked, rocky, and potholed, sloping down-hill like the last one, and it seemed to be heading for a patch of dark trees a little below them. Sure enough, the track soon opened up at the copse, and Dumbledore and Harry came to a halt behind Ogden, who had stopped and drawn his wand.

Despite the cloudless sky, the old trees ahead cast deep, dark, cool shadows, and it was a few seconds before Harry's eyes discerned the building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks. It seemed to him a very strange location to choose for a house, or else an odd decision to leave the trees growing nearby, blocking all light and the view of the valley below.

"I'm imagining that was the point," Sirius muttered darkly at once. Anyone who would purposely cast their house in shadows like that instantly reminded him of the Black house.

He wondered whether it was inhabited; its walls were mossy and so many tiles had fallen off the roof that the rafters were visible in places. Nettles grew all around it, their tips reaching the windows, which were tiny and thick with grime.

Lily felt an unease set upon her just as much as Sirius for that description. Surely a man from the Magical Law Enforcement wouldn't be there unless it was inhabited, so whoever did live there was no one she wanted to hear of.

Just as he had concluded that nobody could possibly live there, however, one of the windows was thrown open with a clatter, and a thin trickle of steam or smoke issued from it, as though somebody was cooking.

Ogden moved forward quietly and, it seemed to Harry, rather cautiously.

"Can you blame him?" James muttered.

As the dark shadows of the trees slid over him, he stopped again, staring at the front door, to which somebody had nailed a dead snake.

Harry hadn't yet been able to relax since this began, and that only made him feel worse. While no personal liking for the beasts, he understood no one would do that if it were anything but a warning.

Then there was a rustle and a crack, and a man in rags dropped from the nearest tree, landing on his feet right in front of Ogden, who leapt backward so fast he stood on the tails of his frock coat and stumbled.

The stranger spoke, you're not welcome.

The man standing before them had thick hair so matted with dirt it could have been any color. Several of his teeth were missing. His eyes were small and dark and stared in opposite directions. He might have looked comical, but he did not; the effect was frightening, and Harry could not blame Ogden for backing away several more paces before he spoke of a good evening, he was with the Ministry-

The stranger repeated himself dismissively.

Ogden nervously said he didn't understand.

Harry thought Ogden was being extremely dim; the stranger was making himself very clear in Harry's opinion, particularly as he was brandishing a wand in one hand and a short and rather bloody knife in the other.

"In his defense," Remus tried to say as mildly as he could, ignoring how much he was failing as this continued to get worse for Ogden, "the Ministry aren't really ever told that, no matter how much we may think it."

Dumbledore quietly asked of Harry he understood this.

"Why wouldn't he?" Sirius muttered, finding it more odd by the moment what exactly Dumbledore was showing Harry.

Harry agreed, wondering aloud now why wouldn't Ogden, then his eyes found the dead snake on the door again, he suddenly understood that man was speaking Parseltongue.

"Oh," the others muttered in surprise. It was not really something they thought about often, even with one sitting in the room.

Harry just grimaced, thinking how he couldn't blame the majority of wizards thinking this a Dark language when people like this used it for conversation. Then he really kept thinking about it and asked quietly, "can you learn Parseltongue?"

"Not that I'm aware of," James said slowly, not wishing to be untruthful, but he'd never particularly tried either.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then seemed to say another question than what had originally been on his mind, "Is that why Dumbledore brought me along then? To translate this?"

"Possibly," Lily agreed quietly. Harry's questions had done nothing to deflect what everyone around him was thinking, including himself. Tom Riddle had claimed to be the last heir to Slytherin, and if these people spoke Parseltongue, than they could well be meeting his mother in this place. It made as much sense as anything, how many were there in the world, and someone just happened to be speaking it in the same town as Voldemort's father would one day be. Already, they could tell it wasn't going to go well.

Dumbledore agreed.

The man in rags was now advancing on Ogden, knife in one hand, wand in the other. There was a bang, and Ogden was on the ground, clutching his nose, while a nasty yellowish goo squirted from between his fingers.

A loud voice hollard at Morfin!

An elderly man had come hurrying out of the cottage, banging the door behind him so that the dead snake swung pathetically. This man was shorter than the first, and oddly proportioned; his shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, which, with his bright brown eyes, short scrubby hair, and wrinkled face, gave him the look of a powerful, aged monkey.

"Isn't that how you described Slytherin in the Chamber?" Sirius sighed, he didn't like thinking about that place any more than Prongs, but their idea just seemed more confirmed by the line.

"Sadly," Harry agreed.

He came to a halt beside the man with the knife, who was now cackling with laughter at the sight of Ogden on the ground.

The older man presumed him as Ministry at once.

Ogden agreed as much while dabbing at his face, presuming him as Mr. Gaunt.

Gaunt agreed, dismissively saying maybe his face wouldn't look like that if he'd made his presence more known.

"If he doesn't have up alert charms, there's not many other ways to warn there's someone on your property," Remus rolled his eyes at this daft statement.

This was private property and his son was defending himself.

Ogden protested defending himself against what?

"I must give this man credit for still sticking around at this point," Lily murmured, hoping he came back out with the same limbs he went in with.

Ogden pointed his wand at his own nose, which was still issuing large amounts of what looked like yellow pus, and the flow stopped at once. Mr. Gaunt spoke out of the corner of his mouth to Morfin to get back in the house.

This time, ready for it, Harry recognized Parseltongue; even while he could understand what was being said, he distinguished the weird hissing noise that was all Ogden could hear.

Harry did blink in some confusion though as he asked, "I thought you could only speak to snakes like that, not other people."

"I'd presume with practice you could say it whenever, like any language," Remus offered. "Yours may be a bit more limited, considering it, well, you-" he stuttered and ended quickly without trying to finish that while Harry looked away, not meeting his or anyone's eyes.

Morfin seemed to be on the point of disagreeing, but when his father cast him a threatening look he changed his mind, lumbering away to the cottage with an odd rolling gait and slamming the front door behind him, so that the snake swung sadly again.

"Please stop mentioning that," James muttered, it got more disturbing every time.

Ogden protested he was here to see Morfin, but the old man interrupted by asking if he was a pure-blood?

Harry wanted to laugh at such a question being thrown out, it reminded him too much of his first meeting with Malfoy, and even he hadn't been as bad.

Ogden coldly returned that was neither here nor there, and Harry felt his respect for Ogden rise.

"Agreed, though I'd have liked a more colorful response," Sirius sneered, this Gaunt man was reminding him too much of his dad on his worst days.

Apparently Gaunt felt rather differently.

He squinted into Ogdens face and muttered, in what was clearly supposed to be an offensive tone that he thought he'd seen other noses of that kind down in the village.

"I'm sure all noses look the same to your disfigured one," James huffed.

Ogden said he wouldn't be surprised if his son was let around them.

All five of them burst out laughing for the man's wit, they really did like him now.

He got back on topic by saying an owl had been sent here-

Gaunt interrupted he had no use for owls, and didn't open letters.

"Probably can't read them," Sirius muttered.

Ogden tartly responded he could hardly complain of no warning of visitors then.

"This man's a delight, please tell me he still works there," Lily snickered while the boys laughed even louder.

He was here following a serious breach of Wizarding law,

"I've done no such thing!" He paused, considered it, and finished anyways, "yet."

Remus cracked the book over his head for the poor joke while Harry gave a half-hearted laugh.

Gaunt bellowed at him he could come inside, not that it would do any good.

"I could have told him that already," James sighed. "I'd have given him a fine already, and when he ignored that, bloody arrested him for his poor hospitality."

"Making it rather a good thing you may not choose to be an Auror anymore," Lily chuckled to herself. Ogden had already shown more patience than even she could have managed with such a person.

The house seemed to contain three tiny rooms. Two doors led off the main room, which served as kitchen and living room combined. Morfin was sitting in a filthy armchair beside the smoking fire, twisting a live adder between his thick fingers and crooning softly at it in Parseltongue:

Hissy, hissy, little snakey,

Slither on the floor

You be good to Morfin

Or he'll nail you to the door.

"I could have done without that translation, thank you," Sirius grumbled.

There was a scuffling noise in the corner beside the open window, and Harry realized that there was somebody else in the room, a girl whose ragged gray dress was the exact color of the dirty stone wall behind her. She was standing beside a steaming pot on a grimy black stove, and was fiddling around with the shelf of squalid-looking pots and pans above it. Her hair was lank and dull and she had a plain, pale, rather heavy face. Her eyes, like her brother's, stared in opposite directions. She looked a little cleaner than the two men, but Harry thought he had never seen a more defeated-looking person.

Lily sighed heavily, already wanting to croon over this poor family. That boy and girl, they only acted the way they did because of that sham of a father Gaunt no doubt, and his parents before. This was clearly a rotten line that would continue to suffer down the ages, creating their circumstances now. Details of Harry's second year kept trickling back to her, how Tom Riddle grew up in an orphanage. He should consider himself lucky, that had to be better than this pit.

Gaunt waved vaguely to his daughter Merope as introduction, and Ogden politely gave her a good morning.

She did not answer, but with a frightened glance at her father turned her back on the room and continued shifting the pots on the shelf behind her.

Ogden got straight to the point of Morfin, who had reportedly used Magic in front of Muggles last night-

There was a clang cutting off his words, Merope had dropped one of the pots.

Gaunt shouted at her, using all manner of insults in between, to pick it up. When she bent down to do so, he called her a filthy Muggle and told her to use her wand!

Ogden tried to step in, but Merope, who had already picked up the pot, flushed blotchily scarlet, lost her grip on the pot again, drew her wand shakily from her pocket, pointed it at the pot, and muttered a hasty, inaudible spell that caused the pot to shoot across the floor away from her, hit the opposite wall, and crack in two.

Sirius let out a low, appreciative whistle, though he wished her spell had misfired on this Gaunt's head instead.

Morfin let out a mad cackle of laughter. Gaunt screamed at her to mend it, with more insults.

James worked furiously with his jaw to stop himself shouting back, getting in the way of this girl and showing this tosser what's what. Shouting at her like that, he was as bad as Vernon!

Merope stumbled across the room, but before she had time to raise her wand, Ogden had lifted his own and already mended it.

Gaunt looked for a moment as though he was going to shout at Ogden, but seemed to think better of it:

"Didn't know he had it in him," Remus snarked quietly.

Instead, he jeered at his daughter how lucky it was of her the man had done that, maybe he'd get lucky and the Ministry would take her off his hands, useless Squib she was.

Harry felt a deep churning of pity for this poor girl mixing with a question he was chewing on, but decided to ask anyways, "thought Squibs couldn't do magic? She just did."

"You're exactly right, she's clearly magical, and this arse shouldn't be near another breathing thing," Lily seethed. She tried to keep the anger out of her voice when speaking to her son, but it was hard. It was maddening to realize this had already happened, there would be no happy ending for this poor girl who would die giving birth to Voldemort of all people.

Without looking at anybody or thanking Ogden, Merope picked up the pot and returned it, hands trembling, to its shelf. She then stood quite still, her back against the wall between the filthy window and the stove, as though she wished for nothing more than to sink into the stone and vanish.

Ogden almost pleaded now to stay on topic, the reason of his visit. Morfin had broken Wizarding law-

Gaunt imitated Ogdens voice, making it pompous and singsong. Morfin cackled again and hissed he'd taught that filthy Muggle a lesson, that was illegal now?

"Yes," all five of them muttered in disgust, wishing they could return the favor in kind.

Yes, Ogden agreed, it was. He pulled from an inside pocket a small scroll of parchment and unrolled it, saying his sentence was a summons to the Ministry for a hearing-

Gaunt was outraged, who did this man think he was to summon them anywhere!

Ogden stated Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad.

"Yeah, that'll do it," Remus chuckled.

Harry sighed in agitation, wishing he'd gotten some friendly man to give him a summons rather than Fudge expelling him for doing the opposite of this Morfin.

Gaunt started advancing on Ogden now, thinking he'd been accused of being called scum! He wouldn't stand it from a filthy Mudblood!

Remus didn't know why he was so surprised given everything around this place, but he still came to a stuttering stop and glared at the filthy word he'd just said.

Lily turned pale as a sheet and twitched for her wand, and the other three boys all looked likely to pitch him off a tower after a good stunner was placed on him for that. Why was Dumbledore showing Harry this? It was nothing but infuriating to the lot of them.

Ogden was now looking wary but stood his ground.

"A brave man, honestly," Sirius murmured, still prepared any moment for curses to start flying.

For a moment, Harry thought Gaunt was making an obscene hand gesture, but then realized that he was showing Ogden the ugly, black-stoned ring he was wearing on his middle finger, waving it before Ogden's eyes.

"A two for one?" James offered, his eyes still narrowed and ruining the joke, not that he cared.

Harry didn't even hear him, his mind scrambling desperately as he tried to make something click together, something very obvious, important, and vital, but that blinding pain was back in full force, threatening his mind for even considering pushing into thinking about this. He wasn't even sure if the others noticed his dilemma, wrapped up as he was.

Honestly they didn't, thinking Harry's pained expression was the same as theirs hearing of this happening.

Gaunt shouted this was a centuries old ring through his pure-blood line, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on it!

James blinked in surprise at that though, wondering if Moony and Padfoot had even heard it for all the muttered cursings they were still giving at that nasty little speech. Like Sirius, he liked to pretend the majority of his pureblood side of the family didn't exist for reasons exactly like this monster, and for this to just be shoved into conversation like that really made him sympathize with Sirius yet again.

Ogden tried to ignore the ring sailing inches from his nose and keep on track, but with a howl of rage, Gaunt ran toward his daughter. For a split second, Harry thought he was going to throttle her as his hand flew to her throat; next moment, he was dragging her toward Ogden by a gold chain around her neck.

Hauling her with him, he shouted about how that was Salazar Slytherin's! They were his last living descendants, what did he make of that?!

First the ring, now this, Harry was quite sure his head was going to pop off in moments for the sharp pain being caused. He could tell the others still weren't grasping why this was shown except to depress them, but there was a significance here he was sure he was missing, if only this pain would leave and he could just think for a moment...

Ogden shouted in alarm about the girl being strangled during this,

"I'm feeling, he doesn't care, ten times more emotion than he's ever shown for anything but what he just said," Sirius sneered.

but Gaunt had already released Merope; she staggered away from him, back to her corner, massaging her neck and gulping for air.

Gaunt stood triumphantly now, as though he had just proved a complicated point beyond all possible dispute.

Lily sneered in disgust, as if this grimy ape could put two and two together with his brain capacity.

He spat on the floor at Ogdens feet. Morfin cackled again. Merope, huddled beside the window, her head bowed and her face hidden by her lank hair, said nothing.

Ogden insisted this had nothing to do with why he was here, Morfin had accosted a Muggle last night.

"Credit to this man!" Remus blinked in disbelief Ogden was still trying! "I'm with Prongs, can't believe he's bothering to still try!"

"Didn't get to be head for nothing I suppose," Sirius tried for a chuckle.

Their information was that Morfin preformed some jinx or hex on a Muggle, causing him to erupt in hives.

Desperately, so that Harry could think of anything else for a moment, he threw out, "Ministry will come far since I turn fifteen. They knew the exact spell and time it was used. Here, Ogden makes it sound like it was all very general."

Lily wrapped a reassuring arm around him, mistaking that pained expression for his loathing of these circumstances, though that was in there as well. "Magic is always adapting love. What was this, twenty years ago or more from now, I can see how they wouldn't yet be able to more than just determine magic was used in an area. They're finding new ways every day to narrow in on the source, what was once a town became a city block, a house."

Harry nodded to indicate he heard, the pain in his temple not alleviated at all.

Morfin giggled.

Giant hissed at him in Parseltongue to remain quiet before returning to English and demanding of Ogden that the Ministry had already wiped the filthy Muggles mind of it and cleaned him up.

Ogden protested that wasn't the point, it was an unprovoked attack.

Gaunt sneered he'd already had him marked as a Muggle-lover.

Ogden finally said this was getting them nowhere. His sons attitude made it clear he did not regret his actions,

"This can't have been the first offense either," Lily's twitching frown didn't seem likely to vanish anytime soon. "If he's as old as I'm thinking."

"Gaunt probably does keep him on a tight leash though, perhaps the other night he got loose," Sirius snarled with far to much familiarity in his tone, and Lily didn't want to know what that meant.

He glanced down at his scroll of parchment again and read when Morfin would be attending his hearing with the charges of-

Ogden broke off. The jingling, clopping sounds of horses and loud, laughing voices were drifting in through the open window. Apparently the winding lane to the village passed very close to the copse where the house stood. Gaunt froze, listening, his eyes wide. Morfin hissed and turned his face toward the sounds, his expression hungry. Merope raised her head. Her face, Harry saw, was starkly white.

An unfamiliar girls voice was asking of Tom why didn't his father have that hovel cleared away.

"Oh dear," James muttered. Tom was a common enough name though, surely they weren't really fixing to see the other half of the equation that led to their current existence...

A young man's voice replied that wasn't their property, though everything else in this valley did. It was owned by an old tramp named Gaunt, whose children were quite mad.

The girl laughed, and the sounds of horses drawing nearer grew louder.

Morfin made to get out of his chair, but Gaunt hissed at him to keep his seat.

Morfin instead hissed at his sister that Tom had called that woman darling, he clearly already had someone and wouldn't have her anyway.

"This will not go well," Remus said through numb lips. He couldn't imagine Voldemort even being born now. From all they'd seen, the woman they'd pegged as his mother was fixing to drop dead from the hand of her father.

Merope was so white Harry felt sure she was going to faint.

Gaunt turned sharply to her, demanding what that meant.

Merope was shaking her head in protest even as her brother explained her fixation with that Tom, it's why he'd gone out last night-

Gaunt roared at her, hanging after a Muggle!

Lily wanted to cover her ears. She fought back against the impulse only just, but couldn't shake the man so easily strangling his daughter not moments before. Surely the only thing holding her life so far in this waste was waiting for her to be mature enough to give birth to her brothers child, to carry on the precious lineage Gaunt so clearly favored, but even that thought may not hold back what could have happened to her next.

All three of the Gaunts seemed to have forgotten Ogden, who was looking both bewildered and irritated at this renewed outbreak of incomprehensible hissing and rasping.

Gaunt began advancing on her, still hissing a string of insults about his pureblood childs audacity.

Even in his fear for that child James felt his face spasm in disgust, he couldn't stand hearing that kind of talk, and the oddity of it coming from Moony's voice wasn't getting any easier to hear.

Merope shook her head frantically, pressing herself into the wall, apparently unable to speak.

Gaunt lost control and his hands closed around his daughter's throat.

Both Harry and Ogden yelled No! at the same time; Ogden raised his wand and cried, Relashio to free her.

Gaunt was thrown backward, away from his daughter; he tripped over a chair and fell flat on his back. With a roar of rage, Morfin leapt out of his chair and ran at Ogden, brandishing his bloody knife and firing hexes indiscriminately from his wand.

Ogden ran for his life. Dumbledore indicated that they ought to follow and Harry obeyed, Merope's screams echoing in his ears.

Ogden hurtled up the path and erupted onto the main lane, his arms over his head, where he collided with the glossy chestnut horse ridden by a very handsome, dark-haired young man. Both he and the pretty girl riding beside him on a gray horse roared with laughter at the sight of Ogden, who bounced off the horse's flank and set off again, his frock coat flying, covered from head to foot in dust, running pell-mell up the lane.

"I, wouldn't think that very funny," Sirius said slowly, knowing there weren't many things he couldn't make a joke of, but he was sure even he'd find that more alarming than amusing.

Dumbledore deemed that enough for today. He took Harry by the elbow and tugged. Next moment, they were both soaring weightlessly through darkness, until they landed squarely on their feet, back in Dumbledore's now twilit office.

The moment they'd landed Harry asked what had happened to that girl.

Lily gently touched his shoulder in thanks, and then frowned in concern when he didn't relax at her touch. He may still feel deep sympathy for that poor girl, but even that couldn't distract him from fighting the battle his mind was in, still stuck on that memory like a craw in his tooth, but with no way to get it out he could yet know.

Dumbledore passively said she survived. She was in fact left in peace, when Ogden returned fifteen minutes later to arrest Morfin and his father. Morfin received three years in Azkaban, Marvolo six months.

Sirius shivered unhappily at the mention of that place. There was a happier time where he'd sneer, demand that was all they'd gotten for their crimes, but he couldn't imagine ever saying a thing like that again.

Harry was shocked at the name Marvolo, Dumbledore nodding his approval that Harry recognized that as the middle name of Voldemort, his grandfather.

"Bloody hell!" James went bug eyed. It really didn't click until that moment, even though they'd known Voldemort's full name for a few days now, even seeing the horrid excuse for a human the Dark Lord's wizard grandfather was, couldn't have made him really understand what he'd just heard. "Merope named her kid after that, that-" there weren't words for such a creature!

"You got me," Harry sighed in agreement.

He went on to elaborate the Gaunts were the last of their dwindling line. Several generations of only marrying cousins,

"They aren't the only ones," Sirius stated in clipped tones, and Harry was almost sad he didn't need to ask.

and squandering their riches had left Marvolo an arrogant and proud man more consumed with his remaining heirlooms more than his daughter.

"Which doesn't make a lick of sense!" Lily seethed. "Even in his warped reality, his child! She'd carry on his bloodline, clearly what he valued more than anything, how-" she could never grasp the idea of how you could be that way to your child for any reason.

Harry pieced together the rest, that Merope was Voldemort's mother, and the man on the horse had been Tom Riddle. He still couldn't believe they'd married, unable to imagine two people less likely to fall in love.

"Why thank you, I'm glad your own heritage has finally surpassed that level of surprise," James tried for a laugh that still came out wrong. He couldn't wrap his head around it any more than Harry.

Harry shook his head at his dad, even that memory wasn't as disturbing as the one he'd just witnessed.

Dumbledore reminded they'd have to be doing a bit of guesswork here, but Dumbledore speculated that after being free of her eighteen year imprisonment from her family,

"She was eighteen by that point?" Lily murmured in surprise. She'd been picturing someone much smaller, though she supposed many aspects had led to that.

her magic had a chance to flourish, and she'd duped Tom into such a romance.

Harry suggested the Imperius Curse, or a love potion.

Dumbledore erred towards the second, it wouldn't be too hard for the girl to find him alone one hot day and offer him a drink. It was quite the town scandal, the squire's son running off with the tramp's daughter.

Sirius' mouth flopped open. Even in his shock though, he couldn't feel anything but more pity for this girl. As horrid a thing as she'd done, after that kind of life, he could justify almost anything she'd do, including giving birth to Voldemort.

The villagers weren't the only ones stunned, when Marvolo returned home to find his other child had vanished with his precious heirlooms, he may well have died from shock of that. Perhaps he had never learned to feed himself either, but never the less, he did not live to see Morfin released from prison.

Tom had returned of course, only a short time later. This was more guesswork, but Dumbledore believed that when she was carrying his child, she'd either convinced herself his love was real, or he would stay for the child. Both turned out false, and Tom returned with the story it had all started in this way.

"That's still much kinder than she was due, and it actually happened," James muttered with a torn expression in place. He wanted to hate this girl, for letting her fantasy ruin their lives, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, even by the means she'd used.

He never again went to find out what happened to his child.

"Something that would bite him in his own arse a few years later," Remus sighed, putting together the rest of the story in his head.

"I can't see Tom Sr. doing much good even if he did stick around," Lily had a fascinating look on her face even as it was still flushed red from many things to do with all this. "I've never even heard of this, a love potion being taken so far. I can't imagine the man would care for what he'd been forced to love, and even if he had stuck around," she shook her head deeply, hiding her hair in her face so as not to give away where her mind was wandering back to now.

Dumbledore dismissed Harry for the night then, but first Harry asked if it was really important, learning all this about Voldemort's past.

Funny, how Harry hadn't heard the question brought up in here, but he could see it simmering on all of them. He wondered what held them back from demanding it, and even more, why he wanted to laugh at his past self. Already he could feel the beginnings of a puzzle, one very essential to his life.

Dumbledore agreed extremely important, and it had everything to do with the prophecy.

Harry still felt confused, but agreed with some reassurance.

"I can see it," Remus tried to put into words what he thought was Dumbledore's thinking on this. "To understand your enemy is to know as much as you can about them. I'm not yet sure, obviously we haven't exactly found his self-destruct button, as Sirius has been known to so eloquently put it, but maybe if he keeps digging," he trailed off suggestively, and Harry nodded eagerly. Already he could feel the fog lifting, even the hint of an answer of the horizon making the pain once more bearable as he stopped trying to push so hard to understand all this.

He turned to go, then another question occurred to him, and he turned back again to ask if he was allowed to tell Ron and Hermione all this.

James snorted. "Ask for forgiveness, not permission," he scolded.

"And then don't even bother to ask for that," Sirius agreed with an eye roll.

"After what he said over the summer, I certainly can't see him telling you no," Lily agreed after glaring at the two for departing such wisdom.

Dumbledore considered him for a moment before agreeing, but insisted no one else.

"Who else would they tell it to?" Remus scoffed. "I can't see Hermione sharing this with Luna, and her decision to put another article in her magazine. You three have always kept things close to the vest."

"Guess Dumbledore was just being safe," Harry shrugged.

As Harry was leaving he spotted something new on a spindle table, the same ring Dumbledore had been wearing over the summer, the same one from the memory they'd just saw. Harry gasped how he'd come across Marvolo Gaunt's ring?

Harry's breath hitched in his throat, his trembling hands wanting to reach out now and hold his parents to him. What about this ring, more than anything else he'd yet heard of, made him want to cling to them tighter than ever? To again check on Sirius and Remus, make sure they weren't some spectral figures from his nightmares. He hated this thing being mentioned, and yet at the same time, could hardly breathe when it was, wanting so badly to understand!

James patted Harry's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way, letting out a low whistle and offering, "bet that's worth a shiny sickle," recalling how ancient it was.

"Can't imagine how he got it, without dragging it from Gaunts hand," Sirius made a little face of disgust why Dumbledore even had.

Dumbledore half answered he'd acquired it only a few days before he'd fetched Harry.

Harry realized that also meant around the time he'd injured his hand, but Dumbledore merely promised that story would come in due time.

"Ooh, finally getting something out of this," Remus muttered with far more interest than he actually felt, Harry still hadn't returned to normal color. This whole chapter was just a mess for him.

Harry hesitated. Dumbledore was smiling. Then he told Harry goodnight.

Sirius growled in agitation, but all things considered, that wasn't the worst way this chapter could have ended. At least they'd gone two whole chapters now without his death being brought up, so they were honestly on a roll.

Harry's mind was still lingering on this with unease, and he tried to erase some of that as he asked, "well Dumbledore didn't ask me a single thing of what they said, so he either must have figured it out for himself or does know Parseltongue."

"That man's a mystery to us all," Remus bitterly grumbled, making Harry wince again and Remus to shift uneasily at bringing this up himself. He knew he couldn't avoid the topic much longer, maybe he should just air it out with Harry...

HPHPHPHP

Did I lie? Yeah, yeah a bit, but I do still promise you'll get all the explanations I've always offered in the past. Why does Lily know that's his when they stopped being friends at the end of their fifth year but he wouldn't get that book until the next? I do promise it'll all come in time.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #HBP #Marauders #The Life That Never Lived #Jilly #James Potter #remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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movedto-erodasghosts · 4 years

Text

the moment | timothée chalamet

moved blogs - @erodasghosts

practically a spinoff thing for perfidy by @peeterparkr and reading perfidy would help make this better. To read as a stand alone fic, just picture “Tom” as someone y/n used to like but he hurt her.

Description: where we get to see a little bit of y/n’s relationship with timmy

Word count: ~4,600

Warnings: none

A/N: the rain part is heavily inspired by chapter 8 of perfidy where y/n describes when she knew she loved timmy. Also heavily inspired by Nancy’s moodboard of dates with Timmy. I loved writing this so much, I hope you enjoy!

masterlist

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“Okay, okay,” you rested your hands on the table, “tell the story again?”

Timmy let out a soft chuckle, “Really? Didn’t you save the video?”

“I just… need to hear you say it in person.” You smiled widely, “It’s too cute.”

He couldn’t help but smile with you. Something told him you just wanted to hear the story again just to tease him, no harm to come of it though. He couldn’t blame you, he had even teased himself about it and found it rather silly.

“Alright,” he sighed dramatically. “So, I found this toad the other day, right? And it was missing a leg. So… I watched it for a bit before going back inside and going to bed.”

Timmy was a dramatic story teller, it was rather entertaining. The theatrics of it didn’t always come from the words he used to describe stories but the amount of time he spent telling it. To end it short would only leave people with questions. To draw it out longer would give people more to consider. He made stories last regardless, giving people opportunities for questions and any random thoughts. It seemed to be a way of letting everyone feel more involved so it wasn’t so one sided. He didn’t like to focus on himself too much, he was much too interested in everyone else.

“Oh, that’s it?” You raised a brow, “ It didn’t happen to be two in the morning? And you didn’t happen to cry because the toad was missing a leg?”

“Well,” Timmy pursed his lips as if to consider your words, “now that you mention it… I might’ve been a little tired when I found it, and possibly a small bit upset when I found it was missing a leg.”

“Small bit? Tim, you cried.” You brushed some hair behind your ear, “Like, actually cried. I saved the video!”

Quickly, you pulled out your phone to watch the video of a teary eyed Timotheé. Everything about the video was chaotic, it only made the story better.

“Okay, I— this is so bright— I just found this toad,” he held it to the camera, “I was like, ‘Oh! Neat! A little toad!’ But then, then I picked it up and…” He nearly choked on his words, the camera moving sloppily and never focusing on just one thing. “It only has three legs! Y/n, y/n it only has three legs. Are you seeing this?” He held it to the camera again, “Imagine how much harder traveling must be for him. The poor thing.”

“Do we have to finish watching this?” Timmy was grinning boyishly, “I mean, you’ve already seen it and I lived it.”

You gently hushed him before looking back to your phone screen, “Shh, shh, it’s getting to the best part.”

He gave a melodramatic frown to the toad before looking at the camera again, “I just, hmph… I had to show him to you, I love him so much. Okay, say goodbye to him, wish him the best.” He stroked it with his thumb, showing the camera one last time before setting it down and waving goodbye. “I know you’ll live a good life. I’ll miss you, visit anytime.” The camera turned back to Timmy who now had tears swelling, “Can you believe it? Such a darling boy… I hope he gets to be happy.” With a sniffle, he dried his eyes. “Okay, that’s all… you just had to see him. I’m sorry, it’s late and I’m crying…” he laughed and shook his head. “I hope he lives a happy life… well, goodnight… or morning?”

The video ended with Timmy lazily struggling to stop the recording, his eyes red and his hair a complete mess. You couldn’t help but hold the biggest smile and he did his best to hide behind his curls. His fingers curled into his palm, resting his hand on his chin and elbow on the table. Part of him was slightly embarrassed, only because the video was played in public. He couldn’t care less about the fact that you saw him practically breaking down over a toad, he only cared that strangers heard him breaking down over a toad.

“I think…” you began, “Well, you know how you asked me when I knew I loved you? I think that when I first saw that video… I just, I knew, you know?”

He held back a laugh, “Ah, that’s the moment, hmm?”

“Yes! Absolutely, one thousand times yes! It was just mind blowing,” you exaggerated with your hands. “I had never seen you like that before and, honestly, it just really pushed me to my realization.”

“It’s fair, really. I mean, had you sent a similar video I have no doubts that it would be the moment I knew I loved you.” He took a sip of his tea, keeping his eyes on you.

Timmy was playing along with your game, it was back and forth teasing. He couldn’t help but wonder, though, when had you fallen in love with him? He had asked before but you seemed to avoid the question and he didn’t push. Maybe you hadn’t yet, and that was okay. It did make him worry no matter how much he reminded himself it wasn’t like you would fall in love in the exact same moment as if your lives were a book. But still, at times his mind would wander.

“When was it?” He licked his lips and placed his cup back down.

“Hmm?” You fiddled with your pastry, avoiding eye contact.

He rephrased, “When was it you actually fell in love with me?”

Crumbs fell to your plate, it gave you something else to look at rather than him. He never intended to make you nervous, so he soon regretted ever asking. The thing was, there didn’t seem to be a defining moment yet. There were so many things about Timmy that made you stop and think about how amazing of a person he is. From his gentle words to his grand gestures. You could say that to him, but it didn’t sound real. If you were going to answer him you wanted it to be something more concrete.

Part of him craved an answer. He wanted you to take your time, for your relationship to take its time too. And Timmy wasn’t someone that needed constant validation but he couldn’t help himself at times. He knew you cared for him, that’s what mattered most. Really, he wasn’t sure why he was so insistent about knowing. Well, maybe…

He tried his hardest not to be the jealous type, and normally he wasn’t. He trusted you and the two of you were always able to openly talk about things, but… something about your relationship with Tom made him second guess himself. He couldn’t even figure out why, other than it was painfully obvious that Tom liked you and you couldn’t even see it. The issue was, Timmy knew that the “enemies” thing was an act, even if it was just one sided. He knew that you didn’t like Tom, at least not anymore, but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you did.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted his own thoughts. “You don’t have to answer that.”

You awkwardly kept your eyes on the crumbs now scattered around your plate. If only he knew, and if only you could tell him.

“If you keep doing that you’ll hardly have any left.” He smoothly took the pastry from your hands and bit into it. “Hmm, it’s delicious.”

Letting out a small laugh you straighten your posture, “You’ve got a little filling on you.”

“Oh?” He sat it back on your plate, “Could you get it for me?”

You nodded, sitting on the edge of your chair to get closer. Slowly, you reached across and lightly wiped the filling off with your thumb. Timmy’s smile never seemed to fade away. He was always so warm and gentle, even in the toad video from two in the morning. It was like with him any moment could be put on pause to just sit back and admire it for what it was. With him it was like you could breathe. Like, even if it was temporary, the air around him wasn’t so stuffy and thick, but it was clear.

Your hand seemed to linger, not that he minded. He simply took your hand in his own, pressing a kiss to your palm before resting both of your hands on the table. His thumb faintly skimmed over your knuckles as he watched the wheels turning your head.

He tilted his head slightly, “Something on your mind?”

“I always have something on my mind, you know.” You timidly pulled your hand away to put your phone back in your bag, “We should probably get going so we can beat the rain.”

Tim cleared his throat and began gathering his things. “I wouldn’t mind getting stuck in it, sometimes the rain is nice to just step into.”

His words brought another tender smile to your face. Most people would be canceling the day’s plans because of a chance of rain later that evening, Timmy just pushed through and even hoped the rain may come earlier than planned. You liked the rain too and didn’t mind going out in it from time to time, it was relaxing in ways.

“I’d rather be home when it starts, I think.” You held his hand as you both started your way home.

He nodded, “I can understand that. But, would it be so bad if it started before then? It would be like a movie scene.”

The thought made you grin, he was right. One of the biggest clichés in the book and you nearly forgot. Part of you longed for a movie moment like that, you had them all the time with Timmy though. It was nice, you wouldn’t lie. At the same time, a huge part of you just wanted to smoothly make it home, no movie moment.

“I guess that part of it would be sweet. Almost like a frozen moment in time.” You moved closer to him, “I’d take any chance to be frozen in time with you.”

His lips curled into a smile at your cheesy words before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Maybe we’ll get the chance again.”

“Hmm, I wish. I’m not exactly dressed for a downpour though, especially not with my camera out,” you held it up.

Timmy took a quick glance, you were right. Your sneakers would be soaked within moments and your jacket wouldn’t keep you warm for long. Timmy wasn’t dressed much better though, having on sneakers as well, and jeans that would easily stick to him when wet. He could stand it though, it wasn’t a bother, and he would gladly help to keep you warm with his own body heat.

He recalled that you loved walks in the rain, no matter how soaking wet you may get. But lately something was off, he could tell. He kept brushing it off, chalking it up to overthinking. Of course you didn’t want to get caught in the rain that day, it would be freezing and your camera could get ruined. Normally, though, you still wouldn’t mind. It was like you were running from something.

“We can put the camera in your purse, it should help keep it dry. As for the rest, well,” he let your hand go before wrapping an arm around your waist, “I’ll help keep you warm as we make our way home.”

You chuckled, leaning into his side. “In that case, I look forward to the rain,” you half joked.

“See?” He smiled, “Simple solutions. I’m glad to be of assistance.”

Once again, he let go of you to give a dramatic bow. You laughed, watching as his hair fell in front of his face. He even tucked one foot behind the other, adding to the drama of it. He did what he could to make the relationship feel the same, to help you find the beauty in small moments like that again rather than pain.

“Ah, thank you for your kindness,” you gently bowed back towards him.

“Of course, of course. Anytime, you know.” He took your hand in his, gently swinging it as you continued the walk.

You walked in silence for a few moments, just taking in the busy sounds from around you. There were fewer people out that day, due to the expected rain, which gave plenty of new picture opportunities. You loved pictures full of life, whether it was crowds of people or a field of flowers. But, you loved pictures that seemed empty, or even more serene in a way, too. Overall, you just enjoyed taking pictures of life. From the most crazy and crowded moments to the most calm and seemingly boring moments.

“Let’s get a picture here really quick?” You stopped at a shop window, gently tugging Timmy’s sleeve to get his attention.

He stepped back and stood beside you, “Of course, it’s a nice opportunity.”

You held the camera up, ready for the picture. Timmy put one hand in his pocket, the other rested on the small of your back. He placed a kiss on the top of your head, freezing there for a moment as you took the picture. Instinctively his eyes shut too, allowing him to easily slip into his thoughts for a moment.

He loved that you took pictures of moments like this, he knew it meant a lot to you. To be able to hold a memory in such a way was incredible and it helped to better remember. It wasn’t just a picture, it was a memory. Even if it was only a memory of going for tea that morning, it was a memory. One he knew that you’d both find yourselves dwelling on.

You both seemed to find such pleasure in the smallest of things. The rain, tea, toads, anything. Unlike Tom, who seemed to have to make everything into some huge attention grabber for it to be even slightly memorable. Timmy couldn’t stand that, it was like it was a show for everyone else. Timmy didn’t need to prove to anyone that he loved you with grand schemes, what mattered to him was the little things that you shared between the two of you.

“Alright, got it,” you smiled.

His eyes opened back up, snapping himself out of his mind. “You’ve gotten a lot of good pictures today.”

“With most of them having you as the subject, I’d agree,” you grinned up at him.

“It’s your talent with photography that makes them so good,” he chuckled.

“Maybe, but you definitely add to it’s perfection.” You kissed his cheek, “Even if I know you cried about a frog at two in the morning.”

“A toad,” he corrected. “And what kind of monster wouldn’t cry about a toad at two in the morning?”

“It’s just a toad,” you began walking again with a small smile on your lips.

“Just a toad?” He joined your side again, “I don’t think so! He was special, not just like any other toad.”

You teased, “You’re actually defending a toad?”

“Maybe I am. You were attacking him.” He played along, lightly nudging your shoulder.

Your hands went into the air in a mock defense, “My greatest apologies for attacking him. I hope I didn’t offend too greatly?”

“Hmm,” he raised a brow and stroked his chin as if he was deeply thinking. “No, nothing you can’t make up for.”

“Make up for? In what way?” You were already grinning as you looked up at him.

His arm made its way back around your waist, his fingers landing on your hip. Your pace slowed a bit, only slightly, as you synced your steps.

“Dance with me when it rains,” he said simply. “It would make up for it a thousand times over.”

You chuckled, “I’d dance with you anytime, Tim.”

He inhaled, holding his breath for a moment before saying, “I know, but I’ll take every chance I get.”

“I would too, plus it’s a simple enough way to pay you back for the frog insult.”

“Toad.”

“Right,” you laughed, “toad.”

He hoped it would rain. Before he simply looked forward to the rain because he was expecting it anyway, now he was waiting for the rain as if he relied on it. He needed the chance to be with you closer, longer. He needed a reason for the day to be memorable for more than just tea. Timmy knew you’d adore that day for the rest of time, even if it ended in this very moment, but it was like he needed to be sure of it.

Lord, he was becoming Tom. Couldn’t the day be lovable enough as it was? It already was. There wasn’t a moment through the day with you where he didn’t seem to have butterflies in his stomach, other than moments like this where he couldn't help but think of Tom.

No. No more Tom. Timmy was still far from Tom. His gestures, like wanting to dance in the rain, was for just the two of you, not anyone else. Tom needed everyone else’s approval, Timmy was only focused about the happiness between the two of you.

“Guess you should get ready to dance,” you spoke up, quickly tucking your camera into your purse.

Timmy glanced at your movements before looking up to the sky, seeing how dark it had suddenly gotten. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw the rain approaching.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he held both of your hands and pulled you to a wider section of sidewalk.

He wasted no time, beginning to dance with you the moment a raindrop fell. You wouldn’t deny it, even though you were previously dreading the coming rain you were happy it was there now. You had forgotten how much you missed it. You missed that moment in time where it was truly like nothing else mattered. It was just you and Timmy, frozen in your own movie moment.

It was clear that the wheels in his head were finally taking a pause, he too was just enjoying that moment. Normally, Timmy wasn’t one to get lost in his thoughts so frequently. He spoke openly, sharing his thoughts so he could talk through them with someone. You understood, even admired it, but there was a part of you that wanted to hold certain things to yourself. There were some things you wanted to process on your own before even thinking about sharing with anyone else, and there were other things that you just wanted to ignore forever. Timmy knew this and he never wanted to make you feel pressured to talk but he just couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t want to share, to just talk through your pain and memories. But, he respected it.

You wanted to share, truly, but you weren’t even sure where to begin, and, you didn’t even know if you actually could bring yourself to talk. Timmy swore that there were things between you and Tom that were unsettled that you needed to talk about, and maybe he was right, but you couldn’t see it. You felt like you were stuck in a spot that had no way out. It felt like you had no words to share, and, while no one was trying to make you feel that way, you felt pressured to talk. It felt like Timmy deserved more. Like he should have an explanation, like he should get to know his moment, the one where you knew you loved him.

You had no answers to offer anyone though, not even yourself. You didn’t know why people were expecting you to explain so much. Why did people need you to explain why you never liked Tom? Why it didn’t matter if Tom ever liked you or still did-- though you would assure people he didn’t-- because you were over him. Or were you even over that?

Tom was cruel. He was careless, inconsiderate. And, sure, you had a crush on him for a while, but that’s all it was. That’s all it could be. He hurt you, how could you possibly still like him? And, you loved Timmy so none of that even mattered anymore.

Timmy.

You knew you loved him, with or without that defining moment. Maybe this could be it. The rain, his fingers intertwined with yours as you danced and laughed. No, this wasn’t it. It couldn’t be, not when you had let your mind wander so far. So much for staying frozen in the moment.

Still, you danced with him and acted as if you were still focused on only that. His mind may have stopped for a break but it seemed yours had just kept going. He noticed, you were like an open book at times with him. But, you were both deciding to push it aside.

“When was the last time we even got to do this?” You laughed as he dramatically spun you.

He smiled, “Too long, I guess we’ve just been waiting for the rain.”

“I’m glad it’s finally here, even if I’m freezing cold.” You waddled closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and continuing to sway inplace together.

“Hmm,” he rested his chin atop your head and curled his arms around you, “I did say I’d keep you warm.”

You closed your eyes, resting a cheek on his chest and breathing in. The metallic and earthy smell of him brought an instant peace. You could feel and hear his heart beating slowly, calmly. Heat was somehow radiating off of him still, even through his cold and wet clothing. It was nice, just his presence and being was calming and felt nice to be around. It was now that you were really being pulled into the movie moment, your mind now filled with nothing but thoughts of how being around Timmy was like going out after a storm.

It was like walking out, feeling the sun hit your skin as it was slowly beginning to warm everything up again after a downpour. Like inhaling that musty yet sweet smell of the ground as it was soaking up the rain, reclaiming it after it’s fall and working with it to help return to earth. The smell wasn’t just coming from the rain either, it was just how Timmy was, and you couldn’t get enough of it. It was the serenity after the storm that people so rarely talk about.

“Can’t we stay this way forever?” His words were muffled, mixing with the sounds of raindrops seemingly falling harder.

You were still slightly swaying together, earning looks from those rushing by you in a hurry to escape the rain. Neither of you could be bothered by it though, you were in your own world. Admittedly, it probably wasn’t such a good idea to be staying out in the cold rain. The two of you couldn’t care less in the moment, though you’d probably regret it later, because it was like you had only been standing there for a minute, but at the same time it was as if it had been an hour even if it was only about ten minutes.

The rain was coming down harder and harder, preventing you from being able to stay out much longer.

“I think it’s time to stop dancing,” you smiled, looking around for any form of shelter you could find. “Look, that shop has a shade we can use.”

Without hesitation you ran off, ready to get out of the downpour. You hadn’t noticed at first but he hadn’t followed, only a few steps away from where you were both standing just a second before. He was slowly making his way over, not seeming too focused on actually making it though.

“Timmy,” you called out, “what’re you doing? C’mon, it’s too heavy.”

And then you heard, music playing from someone’s balcony. It was gentle and steady, sounding almost like a recording but it was clear that it wasn’t. Timmy’s eyes were locked onto that balcony, right above the shop you were using for coverage. His shoulders were relaxed, his head slightly tilted as he listened. He was too focused on the music to care about how hard the rain was or how cool the air was turning. You were focused on watching him, slightly taken aback by his actions.

“Come see,” he beamed, “it’s so peaceful.”

You were grinning, watching as he smiled ear to ear, being so happy watching them. His gaze went back to them, eyes twinkling in the light shining from their apartment. His curls were dripping, messily scattered about and some sticking to his face. He looked like he was in a state of tranquility, completely free of all the worries he had been dealing with. It was soothing enough on its own just to see him so, it was like he was able to share with you how it made him feel simply through one look.

Taking your camera out, you took a picture of him as he looked up to the balcony, wanting to keep that moment with you forever because that was it. A few weeks ago when Timmy had asked you when you fell in love with him you gave some silly response, too anxious to think about it. He brought it up again earlier that day, and you still couldn’t give an answer. Now the answer was standing right infront of you, finally it was something worthy of sharing, not just something random and laughable.

You put the camera back in your back, quickly joining his side. “It sounds beautiful.”

“Doesn’t it?” He leaned into your shoulder, “The rain just adds to it all.”

“It does,” you agreed, wrapping around his arm. “But, we should go before we get sick.”

Timmy laughed as he slowly pulled himself out of his trance, “That sounds like a good idea.”

With looped arms you began your walk home once more, feeling somewhat more lifted by what had happened. All it took was that one moment, that moment of proof and reassurance. You were reminded of what a kind and gentle person Timmy was, not that you had ever forgotten. He did his best to enjoy life for what it was, cherishing every moment he could no matter how small. You tried your best to do the same but found yourself slipping at times, it was a reminder to enjoy things more. To take that step back and make yourself the main character of a story, even if it was temporary. Timmy helped you to do that.

He loved to see you so relaxed again, free from your mind. You were both too wrapped up in too many what-ifs and were worrying about things that were out of your control. The rain was what you needed, to help pull you back to earth. It was that moment, where he was able to put life on pause and you were able to come back into that serenity.

The awkward tension from the cafe was gone, truly gone, not just shoved aside. Timmy wasn’t craving to know the exact moment you knew you loved him because all that mattered to him was that you did. You didn’t feel like you owe anyone an explanation for anything anymore, whatever you had with Tom was in the past now and you knew Timmy’s moment. It really wasn’t a permanent solution, these feelings, at least the untouched one’s about Tom, would likely arise again. But, at least for that moment, you could go without confronting them.

#perfidy #timothee chalamet #tom holland #timothee x y/n #timothee chalamet x reader #perfidy inspired #my writing #timotheé chalamet #timotheé chalamet x reader #timmy chalamet #timmy chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #timotheé chalamet x you

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pillowfluffs · 4 years

Text

The Warmest Eyes!Jaemin

Pairing: Jaemin X Reader (gender-neutral)

Genre: enemies to lovers!AU, angst, college!AU,

Summary: Jaemin and you had a... special relationship. One where heated stare downs and friendly competition was as common as breathing...

Author’s Note: for a dear fwend uwu i hope you enjoy fwends~ I tried and I’m still getting used to writing nct, so i’ sorry if it doesn’t feel right/ accurate also, note that THIS IS REALLY LONGGG and tbh I love long bullet imagines soo haha

*Warning: Mentions alcoholism but not Jaemin and Y/N**

Strong suggestion: Listen to “Falling like the Stars” by James Arthur while reading. A queue on when to start listening to the song will be mentioned

Na Jaemin

The guy who was currently glaring at you from across the class as your teacher praised you for your high marks on the recent final

You could feel the anger seething from him as he stared at you with his cold eyes

And you smiled sweetly back as the teacher discussed with the class all the problems she had gone over repeatedly, but the class had brushed off her words, resulting in the entire class missing multiple questions

Except for Jaemin and you of course

But he didn’t get as many praises as you did

He was a few questions off

The bell rang, saving everyone from your teacher’s lecture

Everyone bustled out of the room and you were asked to stay by your teacher

And you did not miss the scowl on Jaemin’s face when she called your name

You left the room, headed towards lunch after a brief discussion your teacher had

She was curious what your future plans were since you were already so ahead compared to others

She was satisfied with your response to say the least, but you knew you would have to work even harder to get into S/N

You opened your locker with a few swift twists, grabbing your lunch and sorted through your backpack for your books

Just as you finished, your locker slammed shut in your face, earning a little jump from you

And that’s when your eyes met his

The eyes of satan jr himself, Na Jaemin

His eyes were cold like always when he looked at you, always creeping you out and evening making you wonder if he was an alien from Area 51

“Aw, what’s with the long face? Sad over a few points? I thought you’d be used to it by now.” You tilted your head with a cute smile

Suddenly his lips curled upwards at your words, causing a chill to run down your spine

“Say all you want about this test, Y/N, but from here on out, you’ll no longer be smiling about your scores. And I’ll make sure of it.” He leaned in closer to speak the last part lowly, entrapping your body between his and the lockers

You didn’t know how this all began, but once it did, there was no end to it

It even became natural for the other students during tests to make bets on who would score better

Once results came out, half the class cheered for joy when one or the other scored higher, feeling disappointment along with the other half of the class who groaned

Fast forward a bit with the same non-stop bickering to the end of Junior year

College examination tests were the only time through high school where things died down, but once scores and results came out, it was as if nothing had changed

Both your friend groups had merged into one, but you two refused to be near each other

Heck, the competitiveness stretched outside; playing video games, seeing who could drink more or last longer at parties

There really seemed like no end to this competition

College was the same as high school

It was definitely challenging, but you had grown accustomed to the challenges you would face and Jaemin was beside you, not letting you outdo him for a single second

Some people even wondered if you two were dating

Further, into the second year, things began to become rocky at home

Your parents had begun to grow… separate of each other

Specifically, your "father” who sadly was the breadwinner of the family

Even more specifically, your father, who wasn’t the best person for your mother

There were nights where he came home drunk, making him completely wasted by morning

Some nights were better than others, but some were worse

There had even been nights where you had to pry him from her, which only led to even more violence from him - verbal and physical

Their relationship was toxic and as much as you appreciated your dad and felt grateful to have him in your life, you could tell he wasn’t treating your mother as right as she should be treated

The school was already hard to get in, to be honest, and making sure you were able to receive and maintain scholarships was another challenge

And now that challenge was even bigger since things were unstable back home

You ignored Jaemin, focusing on your studies and even began to look for work you could do if the worst ever happened back home

It was winter break soon - a few days to be exact

Your friends, as well as Jaemin’s, planned a skiing trip to celebrate the holidays and new year

They, of course, invited you, but you had to decline

Now that you were more aware of the situation at home, it drove you, even more, to do even better than your best

Even if that meant you had to sacrifice time you could be spending with friends and even watch the money you could spend on necessities

For the first time, you would be spending a break at school, taking classes over the break

You figured Jaemin would tag along on the trip, but he stayed behind as well, taking classes of his own, but you knew he didn’t need to take these classes

He was just as ahead as you

To him it was simple; as long as you were being productive, he had to be just as productive as you

The campus was so barren now that almost everybody was gone except for a few

You could’ve sworn your eyes were about to fall out of your head if you didn’t take a break anytime soon

You put your pen down, leaning back in your seat and looked out the cafe windows, watching how the snow slowly fell from the grew clouds above

The cafe you were at was one of your favorites -- mostly since it was one of the less popular and smaller ones, so no one really went there

Especially now during the break, there was like one or two other people doing their own thing in the cafe

And the staff of course

The nice aromatic smell of coffee all around as well as the sweet scents of the baked goods on display

You leaned back in your seat, stretching your body out, hearing a couple satisfying cracks and pops

You honestly needed a chiropractor since your head was down most of the time and it was causing you pain

Your mind went over the things you needed to cover and do for your classes

Fortunately, it wasn’t too much you could do - you were ahead with the workload, actually finishing it on time compared to others who would leave it until the last minute

You never understood how others could do that to themselves but you understood their stance with doing it

The pressure and adrenaline

The pressure wasn’t your best friend, but when it came to it, if you ever faced it, you could get things done, but having the time and using it made you feel more productive and it felt great

You grabbed into your bag and grabbed your wallet and phone

“Hi, how may I help you?” the cashier’s bright tone gave you a boost of energy

You ordered your normal drink, but asked to add no cinnamon to the drink

You weren’t aware of it, but he had been watching

Na Jaemin

But he didn’t come here knowing you were here, of course, It was completely coincidental

Just like it was completely coincidental that he overheard you ordering your drink without cinnamon

And with that, he had a sudden thought to mess with you

He watched you disappear into the bathroom before he made his move to the register

“Hello, how may I help.. You?”

A devilishly handsome smile crept on his face, knowing full well he had caught the cashier’s attention

“Hello~ I was wondering if I could add cinnamon to the drink the customer Y/N just made here… I’m their… boyfriend…”

The cashier nodded complying to his wishes before he made his way back to his own table in the corner, studying his own material

He kept glancing back and forth from his notes to your table, smiling even more when he saw the barista place your drink down at your table

Now all he had to do was play the waiting game

He sipped at his own coffee, one that his best friend Jeno couldn’t even dare drink

It was far too bitter for others, but to him, it was like water

He laughed at just the simple thought of you expecting a refreshing drink, only to taste the thing you didn’t want

Moments later, you returned from the bathroom, sitting back down in your seat

You returned slightly refreshed after splashing a bit of cold water on your face

The snow outside had stopped falling, though it was still cloudy

You sat back down, glancing over your notes and skimmed over the next few chapters you would be reading

You took a sip of your drink, feeling refreshed at the sweet drink, only to suddenly feel the burn in your mouth

You put down your drink the best you could, trying not to spill it, but you failed, knocking the drink down to the ground

Your throat began to swell, your mouth and tongue began to itch and burn, spreading a tingling all over your face

It was unbearable and soon, a few staff members had reached your side, asking what was wrong

Jaemin stood from his seat, feeling a chill run down his spine

“What have I done?”

A pang of guilt shot through him as he joined the staff by your side

You had been trying to dig through your bag, spilling the content within, finding the familiar pill bottle you had always carried around with you

Your hands trembled trying to open the bottle, but alas, it was taken from your hands by warm ones

You looked up meeting Jaemin, finding his orange-ish hair in his eyes Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion Your eyes just stared as everybody looked at you

You could feel the heat of your reaction spreading from your lips and you wheezed with every breath taken, feeling your throat slowly begin to close

He took the pills and put them into your mouth, pouring a bit of water from a cup one of the barista’s brought, and closed your mouth

Fortunately, you were able to swallow before your throat could close, but now you were just waiting for the medicine to kick in

He mentally wished over and over in his head you were going to be okay - guilt would be the end of him if you were seriously hurt for a joke he thought that would only be a minor inconvenience for you

“Please be okay…” his eyes pleaded

Slowly but surely, you were recovering

Your breathing began to steady itself and your throat began to open up, though you knew you needed to head to the medical office either way

“Are you okay?”

“I- I think so,” you coughed out, feeling the itch still in your throat

He helped you into your seat, handing you another cup of water

“Miss/Sir, are you okay? We’re terribly sorry. Should we call an ambulance for you?”

You were faced with the cashier you ordered your drink from, seeing their smile no longer on their face and their bright aura, gone

“No, I’ll be alright, but I thought I ordered with no cinnamon?”

“Ah, we added cinnamon upon your boyfriend’s request,” she nodded politely, gesturing to Jaemin and backed away, feeling the atmosphere drop as you turned your attention to the boy standing before you

At this point, you didn’t even know how to feel looking at Jaemin

You didn’t even really want to look at him

He could feel your eyes on him, but he couldn’t bear to look you entirely in the eye

You turned away before he could say anything, frantically packing your belongings back into your bag and putting away your notes, discarding the drink

“I don’t know who he is…” you spoke coldly, barely audible, but Jaemin heard it loud and clear

The two of you were never really close friends, but why did it feel like he had just lost more than a close friend?

He let out a sigh, rubbing his neck as he slowly made his way to his table

The staff averted their eyes whenever Jaemin caught them looking, whispering about what had just happened

It was a miracle you didn’t need an ambulance, but he still worried for you and he couldn’t forgive himself

The weight of regret was heavy on Jaemin’s shoulders as he walked back to his dorm, but his steps grew heavier and heavier walking past your dorm

He didn’t even know if you were even back yet or not

The air was fresh and it just smelled clean

But I mean, you were in the medic office after all, so of course, it was clean and sanitary

You sat on the examination table feeling your body respond well to the medication they had provided to you

The cream they had rubbed onto your face had a cooling effect, which was great since it meant it was working and that the red irritation was going away

The staff who had treated you left you in the room, but advised you to stay put for at least an hour in case something were to happen

You obliged and just continued your studies at their desk - after getting the permission of course

Your fingers flew over your keyboard effortlessly, typing up one of the various essays you had to do for your classes

The words came smoothly and you knew exactly what to say and how to say it

You were halfway through your essay when you were stumped - stumped on how to feel and think about Jaemin now

Everything fell to a standstill all around you

You were honestly really sad about what Jaemin did, but why?

You knew it was one of his antics - he just wanted to bother you a little and you two were never really close friends

Your heart was hurt, that shit hurted but you took a breather and stepped back to view the whole scenario

He, like the two of you, but most of him just wanted to play a little

Even now when the two of you were in the second year of college

He was the same over the years: he played games like this

Your lips automatically curled upwards at the thought of high school

The rarest moments where he actually did things for you that seemed like he actually cared for you as a person than what you got on the test

Like the one time, it was your birthday

It had slipped the minds of your friends since it was exam season

Jaemin brought a cupcake for you but he never told you until Jeno did one day the two of you hung out

He complained about how he kept pestering him about what flavor he should get you

You couldn’t see him the same, but then the next tests came and he did better than you

It was only when he started gloating about you losing your edge did you remember who he really was

Jaemin’s eyes scanned over the pastries, looking over which ones would be a good pick

The bakery was off-campus, but it was on one of the main streets, making it popular for the students His heart dreaded just thinking back to how you left the cafe

Usually, when his jokes like these went down, you were surprised, but you never left him like that

It was one of the great things he actually admired about you

You never backed down from a challenge - specifically his challenges

But just thinking about his actions made his heart ache

Did he really lose you forever?

He left the bakery with bags full of goodies, goodies without cinnamon, of course, hoping you could forgive him

But as he walked towards your dorm, he thought of ways to accept the inevitable

The crisp winter air was a breath of freshness in your lungs

Especially now that they weren’t swelling from cinnamon, but most of your feelings towards Jaemin had faded

You were a softie by heart and thinking about it, Jaemin never knew you were allergic

To be honest, only a small handful of people did So you couldn’t blame him

But thinking back, were you too cold?

You walked back towards your dorm, mentally preparing a schedule in your head for what you had to finish tonight to keep yourself on your bigger schedule

Thinking it all over in your head, you were only behind by a little so really, you could just wake up earlier tomorrow or go to sleep later and you would be right on track once again

you made it back to your dorm, seeing the bright winter moon shine its light through your window

your roommate had gone back home for the holidays, leaving you all alone

you dropped your bag onto your desk with a loud-ish boom, almost making you not notice your phone buzz

Your heart burned in anger and sadness at the same time

Tears formed faster than you could mentally process the message you read on your phone completely

You went over the message from your father word by word, making sure you weren’t seeing things just cause you were too tired or you had pushed your limit

“I’m leaving your mom. Bye”

You threw your phone onto your bed, pacing back and forth

Just thinking about your father made you sick to your stomach

Your throat closed up, making it hurt to even breath

Before you knew it, you felt the cold tears dripping down your face

Your knees gave out below you, sinking you down to the cold tiled ground and all you wanted to do was break something

Anything to blow off this anger and steam

It felt like you wanted to just disappear and cry, but also rip off someone’s head

Never have you ever felt so conflicted like this before oof

The audacity of your father to say he was leaving your mom took the air from your lungs

You just didn’t know where to begin to think or say about him, so you just sat there, letting your emotions just ooze out

Your sobs became sadder and sadder, making your voice come out in broken gasps

Until you heard a light knock on your door, bringing you from your cries

You covered your mouth with a wobbly hand, hushing your cries

“Y/N?” A voice you thought you never wanted to hear again sounded through your ears

And never have you ever felt the need to hear it as much as this very moment

“Are you in there? I thought I saw you walk through the entrance…”

you pushed yourself up onto your feet, only taking a few strides to get to the door

your hand grasped the doorknob, though only stopping, finding no strength left at all to just open the door

“Y/N? Are you in there?”

a burst of hope shot through him

“I just wanted to apologize for what happened at the cafe earlier… I really am sorry… I didn’t know you were allergic to cinnamon…”

his own words and voice stung him, making him feel emotionally weaker and weaker, remembering vividly to what he did

you lay your head against your door and listened, feeling the wood cool your head

a hurricane of emotions crashed throughout your body

It was just too much for you to handle

His words paused when your door suddenly opened

His heart ached to see you in your dark room all alone

Tears streamed down your face, bringing tears to his own eyes“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” his voice cracked as he spoke

You bit your own lip, trying to hold back the obvious tears from falling now that you were seeing him face to face

It was a strange feeling, especially now that you were looking up to his eyes

The ones that were always so cold

The ones that always glared at you in annoyance when you did better on a test or were praised by the teacher

But now they were gone

Now they were warm

Press Play to the song and listen while reading from here!

It was as if you two were connected when the two of you took a step towards each other, meeting in the doorway

Your head buried against his chest, breaking even more as thoughts flooded your head of what would happen now that your dad was leaving

His bag of baked goods sat on the ground, leaning against the door as he gladly took you into his arms

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the top of your head

You shook your head against his chest, feeling the now damp fabric of his shirt rub against your face

“I’m not upset by that… you didn’t know…”

Relief washed over his body for a brief moment, but worry now filled him even faster

“Why are you crying, then?” he cupped your face in his hands, trying to rub away the sadness from your face

It was the first time Jaemin saw you like this

So vulnerable, especially when you were clearly emotionally hurt

And realized he didn’t like seeing you like this

Something in him yearned to see your smile, brightening the room and anyone around you

He yearned to hear your witty comebacks to his comments

He yearned for you

You began to calm down, though your breaths were still jagged and uneven

Your hands even began to tremble as you held to his forearms for a grounding

Now that someone had actually asked, it became clear that you couldn’t even bring yourself to say what your father had told you via text message without choking on your words or push your words through the painful lump in your throat

His eyes never left yours as he tried to figure out what had caused the storm behind them

But your eyes never met his; it was like you were trying to look anywhere else, but his eyes

He turned, leading you into your room and shut the door with his foot behind him

“Shh,” he stroked your head as he led you to your bed, sitting you on the edge so he could kneel before you

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s completely fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay..” a cold twinge of regret filled him- you obviously weren’t okay, but he didn’t know what to say

His voice was so soft and gentle, it reminded you of your father when you were a kid: he read bedtime stories to you until you fell asleep and made sure you were okay

But he was leaving and that side of him was long gone

What changed him? Was it your fault? Your thoughts began to race all at once as you just stared into Jaemin’s eyes

Even in the dark, you still saw them clear as the day He couldn’t figure out the look on your face as you just mirrored him, making him wonder if he had said the right thing or not

Your breath began to quicken and before you knew it, your cries poured out of you as memories and thoughts and scenarios and just so much poured through your head

And Jaemin could tell whatever was making you cry like this began to plague you even more

Your cries had become more; it became the kind of desolate sobbing that came from a person who lost hope, but in this case, you were losing hope

He could see it drain from your eyes as you were drifting farther and farther away

You buried your face into the palm of your hands, biting your lip to try to control your emotions

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” was all he could say, all he felt like he could say

It burned within him and the moments played repeatedly in his head in slow motion

he could have just gone on the trip, he could have just not done it

he could have just ignored your presence in that cafe

but he didn’t

he wanted to see your confused or frustrated face

the annoyed look he loved to see whenever his grade surpassed yours or when you found out he was the culprit

you mustered up all the courage you could despite how hot your anger was with your “dad”

he covered your hand with his which allowed him to feel every tremble as you tried to speak

you tried to swallow through the hard lump in your throat, only feeling it remain there

the sun began to set and snow began to fall once again

“my stepdad…” it pained you to call that man your dad, but at the moment, you didn’t know what else to call him. “My parents are divorcing and a part of me is happy cause he’s the absolute worst person in my life.”

a small wave of relief washed through Jaemin, but he pushed it aside, trying to understand how you felt

“he never treated my mom well and he was basically just a leech that used her for money and now that it’s probably gone, he’s leaving. I don’t know what made her want to be with him, but all she told me was that we need him”

you clenched your fists and jaw in anger, resisting the urge to smash your phone to bits against the concrete wall

“y/n, I’m so sorry… I don’t know what to say.” He rubbed your shoulder trying the best of his abilities to comfort you

you sighed, releasing your fists

“you don’t have to apologize for something you didn’t do… I’m not upset with you, to be honest. This is way bigger and you didn’t mean to harm me. I’ve known you for years but I know when you know not to make a joke or to take things seriously.”

you felt a minor weight lift off your chest for some reason, a bit unaware as to why it lifted when all you said was the truth

jaemin was surprised you had seen noticed it, but it was just the morally right thing to do

“you notice quite a lot, huh?” he tried to take your mind off the elephant in the room

jaemin honestly didn’t know how to feel in this moment

but he was sure what he wanted to do: to see the smile he realized he had missed

you huffed a bit not knowing what to say, think, or feel

a part of you was grateful to the moon and back your mom was free but a part of you also burned with a passionate fire knowing that now your mom would have to struggle to have no place to go

his question had gone right over your head

you stared at the dust-covered ground in the far corner of the room, wondering about the future

“I’m sorry, Jaemin, I have to call my mom…” You stepped outside of your dorm, leaving Jaemin by himself in the silence

“of course, no worries... I’ll be here,” he flashed a kind smile and wave as you shut the door behind you

your legs carried you down the hall towards the stairwell as your cold device was pressed against your ear

“mom?” your voice came out quieter than you wanted

“Hey, sweetie…” The soothing voice of your mother calmed down a part of your nerves but did nothing to the storm brewing within

the coldness of the walls didn’t even bother you

it felt like when you first saw the message, you had everything to say but now you were on the phone with your mom, you were speechless

“are you okay?”

your mom sounded so dejected, it broke your heart

“i... I do- I don’t know what to say…”

your eyes were glued to the ground as you leaned back against the wall

“what’s gonna happen?”

“y/n, I don’t want you to worry about anything. I don’t know what's going to happen myself, but I’ll figure something out..”

“what’re you gonna do?”

you could hear her sigh as much as she tried to suppress it

“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. As long as you maintain your scholarships, the easier it’ll be to keep you in school.”

your vision blurred as her words seeped deep within

this wasn’t the life your mother deserved

her words were true. The easiest thing you could do for your mom right now is to maintain your grades until you graduate

“Y/N? Can you do this for me, sweetie?”

you hadn’t even realized you spaced out lost in thought

“ye-yeah...”

“Listen, I have to go pack, okay?”

hearing these words made something in you crack

you didn’t know what, but you knew it would take time to mend, that is if it could be mended at all

“Okay,” you said airily. “Bye mom”

“swe-”

you ended the call, cutting her off

The silence crashed against you like waves

the dorms, for once, were silent

snow slowly fell outside, silencing the night sky and everything

before you could process it, the powdery snow crunched beneath your steps

Jaemin sat still in your dorm in the same spot you left him in

He couldn’t imagine how you felt

Just sitting here felt a little wrong, especially since it was your room after all

The two of you had never spent time alone like this

“Maybe I should’ve left…” he sighed, facepalming

he rose to his feet and approached the door

he stuck his head out the doorway, looking to the left and right down the empty hall

you were nowhere in sight

he couldn’t lie to himself saying he didn’t feel his heart drop for the briefest of moments

he reached into his phone pocket until it hit him

after all these years, he never had your phone number

“Shoot...”

he went onto twooter (not a typo, Twooter) and found your account, sending you a message

“Hey, where’d you go?”

the message was sent and delivered

now all he had to do was wait

“Please be okay”

he sat back down on your carpet, leaning against your bed

his memories replayed in his head starting from your childhood up until now

never once in your encounters with him did you ever seem so

so sad

so frustrated

his chest burned a little when your face flashed into his mind

Seeing you so torn

“I wanna see that smile again…” he said to himself as if he was whispering a secret

it was then after the words fell from his lips, his phone vibrated

“Sorry, I went to the cafe... needed to breathe.”

“if you want to leave, it’s okay. I have my keys with me.”

“thanks for coming.”

he picked himself up and made his way to the cafe with no hesitation

the frosty air nicked at his ears and face as he walked at a fast pace toward the cafe

there was a feeling deep in his gut that just told him he had to be there with you

the warm atmosphere embraced him as he stepped through the doors, already striding towards your table in the corner

it was pretty empty except for a couple of others on their own in their own world’s

you sat facing the wall with your phone faced down on the table

“Y/N?” He looked at you, trying to look into your eyes as he slowly sat down across from you

you stared down to the other side of the table, right at the edge where anything could fall off of it if tipped just enough

and here you were

a tipping point and you were stuck

“Nothing feels real right now and I don’t know what to do.”

you sounded so dejected as you stared at the table, showing no emotion, but he could only imagine what was going through your mind right now

“how do you feel?” he cautiously asked

“I know it feels like something you could just brush away beneath the carpet or something you could say ‘it’s fine’ and move on, but sometimes, you can’t hide it. Sometimes you need to empty the jar and I want to be here for you.”

you paused, letting his words sink in, realizing even more how sweet the mischievous and your long time “enemy” really was

“if you really don’t want to talk about it now, we can always do something else or talk about anything else. But please.”

he bent his head down, meeting your eyes

“know that I want to listen and be wherever with you”

you were taken aback hearing these words for the first time in your life, especially since it came from Jaemin of all people

his breathing stammered after he has said these things, being bold and showing a bit of his true emotions for you that he began to admit to himself while being here with you

you took a deep breath in and opened your mouth, formulating the words in your head

“Since the moment I met him, I just had this feeling that he was a terrible person. She could have done so much better, but she said we needed him.”

rage began to bubble within you as you spoke of the man who came into you and your mom’s lives, ruining with everything he did

Jaemin listened intently, never letting his eyes leave yours as you spoke

He took everything in as you spoke like a sponge taking in water for the first time

despite being so “close” to each other all these years, he realized he never knew anything about you and your life outside of school

“Now since he’s leaving, I honestly don’t know what I can do”

“What do you mean?”

“As much of a pain as he is, he paid for a good part of my tuition to go here… It’s already half because of the scholarships I was able to get from financial aid, but I just know my mom’s going to have to take like three jobs if she wants to be able to cover all the tuition...”

“We can’t really take any loans,” you said through the ever-growing lump in your throat

It burned to even speak, but deep down it surprised you how easily you were able to come out with everything

Jaemin was right, it felt good

“For now, she said to work hard to maintain the scholarship, which of course I will, but she’s literally all I have for a family left”

Your eyes drifted to anywhere else, just not to Jaemin’s

He stayed silent as he took everything in, processing any possible suggestions, thinking about asking his family to help you

You sighed as you leaned back, feeling the sudden prick of tears at your eyes, but you didn’t want to shed any more

This wasn’t something you couldn’t handle, but you just didn’t know how to

“Y/N,” he called, waiting for you to meet his eyes

“I’m very sorry you have to go through this all of a sudden…”

“No, don’t be sorry, Jaemin. None of this is your fault…” you said even though you knew what he meant

“If we’re unable to pay, I might just have to drop and go to community college,” you sighed

It wasn’t the worst and the financially better place to go to would have been there, and now it really might be

The cafe became empty and some employees began to check out while the graveyard shift employees took their place

After sitting in brief moments of silence, Jaemin finally spoke up

“Maybe you could talk to the school and perhaps they’ll understand, helping you out more?”

His mind began to stem off into different ways of how your future at S/N could go

Now that there was an actual possibility of him losing you in his life, he didn’t want to lose you

All those times in high school, the two of you would sit across from each other in the classroom, finding each other’s eyes to shoot a playful glare, they were honestly a highlight of his day he didn’t realize he had until you were absent for a week and he would look across the room, seeing an empty chair

The days whenever you would walk to class late or early, making him miss his daily chance to stick his tongue out at you or mess with your hair as he walked passed honestly made him bummed in his next class

The time you missed the field trip to a greenhouse for biology, and he spent his time there alone, absorbing all the facts and everything just so he could brag to you about how he now knew more than you

But he always saw the sparkle in your eyes whenever you listened to him “brag” about the facts he learned when in reality, they were things he wished you were there to learn yourself alongside him

“Y/N…” He gently caressed your arm

“I really think it’ll help if you talk to the school. My brother’s done it before with his friend. You have scholarships because you need it and because the school wants you to be here, to represent the name so if they really want you here, they’ll help you.”

You listened as the gears in your mind turned and coiled, thinking of all the possibilities you could do to make it easier for your mom financially

After working so hard to get here, it would be a shame to throw it all away when you have a chance

A chance for a brighter future

And a chance to be with the guy you’ve been competing with all these years

As teasing and “annoying” as he could be, you always trusted Jaemin

After a bit, you exhaled, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in for so long

“I really, really want to stay, Jaemin. I really do and I honestly don’t know what to do. I want to help my mom and I want to just enjoy life”

You sighed, rubbing your face and combing your fingers back through your hair

“I’ll talk to the financial office but I’m just scared…”

“If you want, I can go with you?” He tilted his head

For some reason, you felt a weight lift off your chest as soon as the question fell from his lips

The ones your eyes always fell down to during class or whenever he was near

“Please…” you sighed, breaking into a tired small smile

He nodded, matching your smile as it spread on your lips

“I suppose now I have to watch over you closer, you know, to make sure you’re on top of all your studies.” He winked

“As if, Na Jaemin. If anything, you should be coming to me for help,” you retorted, rolling your eyes halfway

As the silence began to grow, your smile began to fade away as you zoom in back to reality

“What- what if the school doesn’t help… and I really do have to leave?”

He felt a prick sting his chest as he saw the concern spread across your face, making your smile fade

“I’ll leave with you. They’ll lose two of the school’s best underclassmen,” he said in a bright way, yet you could hear the sincerity behind his words

He was 100% serious

“I never thought I would say this, but I need you to be here,” Jaemin admitted

The things he wanted to say, the things he thought raced in his head like a blur accompanied by the sound of his heart hammering in his chest

But for now, he stopped after these words, seeing how you would react before throwing everything away

You actually didn’t know what to say and just looked at him to continue

“I really don’t know how to say this, but since high school, I knew for a fact that nothing would be the same whenever you weren’t around. When I couldn’t see those warm eyes for a day at least, all my friends would be asking me if I was okay or why I seemed so down.”

“At the time, I didn’t even know myself until I saw your warm eyes again the next time you came back…” He paused as he read your eyes, unable to get an idea of how you were feeling or thinking, but he continued

“I think I can say for the two of us that we need each other to actually be who we are like if you never came into my life or inspired me to compete with you academically, I wouldn’t be sitting here, Y/N.”

A small smile spread across your lips as the words fell from your lips

“I think so too,” you laughed a bit

It was true: so many nights in the past you realized before you fell asleep that if it wasn’t for Jaemin’s competitiveness, you would’ve never actually studied

You couldn’t tell if he could hear or sense how loud your heart was pounding in your chest or not, but you wanted him to continue

Everything felt so light as Jaemin poured his feelings for you

How warm his own eyes were, yet it made you wonder how he saw your eyes from his perspective

“Just from today, as crazy as it sounds, I’ve come to realize how devastated I would be if you really left S/N. So, I’m going to do everything in my power to help you through this because I want you to stay, I really do too. So much that I’m willing to teach you everything I know to, you know, make sure you’re on top of everything,” he smiled

“Everything?” you questioned

“More scholarships, the bigger ones with higher rewards and more competition. Trust me, with our brains combined, the school will be paying you to study here.”

He spoke giving you so much hope, you hoped it was all going to be true

“But this will cost a price, however, but not monetary.” He leaned onto the table, resting his chin on top of his fists stacked on top of each other

“Oh? And what would that be, Jaemin?” You mirrored him, leaning down with only a couple of inches separating you from him

He paused, almost not hearing your question as he took in your features

From the way your nose curled to the hue of your lips in this light and how your hair was effortlessly perfect in his eyes

To the warmest eyes he had ever seen and now got to see so closely

“Go out with me.”

~~~~~ Masterlist for more! Thank you for reading! this is my first time writing an enemy to lovers!AU I'm sorry if it's not good asdkjasdlk

Edit (3/28/20): enemies to lovers are hardd but I will continue writing for practice! I hope this was okay as a first!

The draft made: July 16, 2019, at 10:28pm EST Final Draft made: March 30, 2020, at 10:16pm EST

193 notes · View notes

xfandomwritingsx · 4 years

Text

The Sweet of Night – Loki Laufeyson – Part 7

-gif source unknown-

Description: After growing up besides Loki and having a complicated friendship with him, you visit him in his cell at night.

Warnings/Labels: Filler

Approx. Word Count: 2,000

A/N: I apologize. This is mostly just filler and Loki doesn’t even make a physical appearance. Sorry guys!

Story Masterpost

The days after the feast are bustling with work. You throw yourself in new recruit training and the public garden expansion plans. You do absolutely anything and everything to try not to think about your last encounter with Loki, but every time you come back to your chambers, you fail to think of anything but.

You sit on your bed, erotic novel in your hand, still toying with the idea of sending it to him. You think of all the notes you could put inside, all the flirtatious ways you could tease him. There’s a small shadow of doubt, of fear of embarrassment that guides the book back onto your shelf every time however.

It’s where the book would end up this morning, you know. You flip through the pages once more, eyes catches glimpses of its dirty words. What would Loki think of those words? Would he enjoy them? Would he find them juvenile?

A harsh knock on your door startles you out of your musings. Your heart skips a beat and the instant adrenaline rush of the fear of getting caught with such a thing makes your hands jitter.

“Just a moment,” you call. The next knock is more insistent. You shove the book beneath your pillow and fluff the feathers of it once in hopes to make it look natural. “I’m coming!” you tell your intruder. You take a deep breath in an attempt to ebb the adrenaline, but it only works in the smallest way. When you open your door, your unexpected guest smiles at you. “Mother!”

“Hello my dear daughter,” she greets, ignoring your stunned face. She leans in to kiss you on the cheek before nudging her way inside despite being uninvited.

“What are you doing here?” You blink rapidly, your bafflement still intact as you close the door and watch as she scans your room. “You’re not usually in this area.”

“There was a gentleman who needed a poultice in this wing and I thought I’d deliver it and then come by to see my darling daughter.” She scrutinizes your décor, but has an unusually chipper smile on her face. As she walks delicately over to your bookshelf, you quickly go to stand at the head of your bed, as if trying to block her from discovering your hidden book.

After skimming over your novel selection, she turns and walks to your desk. Her fingers dance over the wood surface before her hand dips down to the silver knob of the drawer. The drawer you’ve stored all of your notes from Loki. That panicked adrenaline comes back.

“Mother!” you snap. “Did you come by for any reason other than to go through my things?” You’re effective in getting her to remove her hand from the drawer and avert her attention elsewhere. What in the stars would she have to say if she found the dozens of notes from Loki? You’d rather not find out right this moment. Honestly, you’d much rather she found your book instead.

“You know…” she muses. “I rather wish you would have told me yourself instead of hearing the rumors, my dear daughter.” Your brow furrows together in confusion.

“What rumors?” you question carefully. If there are in fact rumors about your encounters, you want to play this very strategically. Your mother only smiles slyly for a moment and then positions herself next to your desk chair.

“Oh please,” she scoffs. “Do you really think you’d be able to hide a relationship with the prince?” It takes every ounce of your professional skill to keep your expression even and collected.

“Mother, I’m not…” you stutter, pausing to swallow thickly. Why is she not furious? She’s still smiling gleefully. It’s then that you notice she’s deliberately placed her hand on top of the royal cloak over the back of your desk chair. “Oh, you mean Thor?” you exclaim, failing to hold back your rush of relief. She barks out a laugh.

“Well I certainly wasn’t referring to the other prince,” she scoffs as though it’s absurd. It is absurd really, but somehow it’s also happening unbeknownst to her. “I had to hear it from Lady Angella that you and Thor have been spending time together.” You laugh, not even minding that she’s scolding you.

“Thor and I are not an item,” you assure her, starting to relax a little. “We spent two minutes together at the feast the other day. We are friends. We do speak to each other.” She doesn’t look dissuaded however.

“Mmhmm,” she hums. “Friends don’t typically keep each other’s garments.” She wiggles her fingers over his cloak again and you find it hard not to get frustrated with her now. “And there are whispers that the prince may be taking a bride in the near future.” She looks quite pleased with herself. “Your name has been mentioned by many.”

“Would that be because you put my name in everyone’s ear?” You cross your arms over your chest and resist the disrespectful eye roll.

“I didn’t even have to this time,” she says cockily enough for you to believe her and that’s quite unnerving. Were there actual talks of Thor and yourself marrying? Now that would be absurd! And yet… your mother hasn’t been the only one to say such a thing.

“This is ridiculous,” you tell her, shaking your head. “Thor and I are not involved. If he’s choosing a bride, it’s not myself.” Your words are pointed and confident, irritated even. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” You step up and put your hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her towards your door. “I have to get ready for the day.”

“You’re being rather coy about it all,” she comments as she reluctantly follows your guidance.

“Not one thing I’ve said here has been coy,” you argue, grabbing knob of the door and twisting it hurriedly. “Now out you go. Go worry about your patients and not about my possible future marital status.” You shoo her out of your room, but she turns back to face you the moment she crosses the threshold.

“You can’t fool your old mother,” she warns and wags a finger at you. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” There’s a little skip of fear somewhere inside your gut, but your irritation with her dominates your emotions.

“If you say so.” You can’t resist the eye roll this time and at the end of it, you catch Katerina walking down the hall towards you. “I see I have a delivery coming.” You point her out to your mother and make another motion to gently coax her away from your door. She bites her lip, unhappy about the decision, but does step back.

“I’m going, I’m going!” She turns to leave, but gives one final look over your shoulder. “Your hair looks lovely, by the way.” You close your eyes and let out a frustrated breath.

“Thank you, Mother.”

She leaves quietly after that and you wait at the doorframe for Katerina to approach with your breakfast tray. She gives you a polite smile.

“I don’t think I’ve seen your mother over this way before,” she comments in a pleasant tone.

“Yes, well… I rather wish it stayed that way.” The corner of Katerina’s lips tip upwards in the smallest fashion. “Come in,” you beckon her, holding the door open for her to step inside. She goes to the desk and sets the tray down.

“Do you have anything you need delivered today?” she asks.

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. The irritation at your mother’s prying has sparked a little streak of rebellion inside of you. Marry Thor? Preposterous! Oh how knowing that you speak to Loki would drive her mad. To know the relationship isn’t as purely platonic as you like to claim? It may send her to her grave!

“Actually, yes,” you say, determination suddenly washing through you. You walk briskly to your bed and retrieve the novel from beneath your pillow. Jotting a quick note on the inside cover, you find your hand shaking ever so slightly. “Please deliver this.” You close the book and hand it to Katerina as confidently as you can. She glances at the cover and the title, but keeps her professional composure and seemingly doesn’t judge you for it before slipping it inside her robes.

“Delivery will be made this afternoon,” she confirms.

It’s only after she’s left that you start to worry about it being a mistake.

---

Your embarrassment keeps you away for a few days. You want to go see him as you honestly miss speaking with him, but the idea of facing him after giving him scandalous reading material on little more than a whim is nearly terrifying. So you busy yourself with other things, such as giving Thor his cape back.

It’s long overdue, but seeing as how you weren’t coveting it close to you at all times as some people liked to think, you never had it on hand when you saw him. So this evening, you scoop it up and drape it over your arm with a few folds and set off to find him for just this purpose.

He happens to be just outside the tavern, right where you had expected. Though the entire idea of more rumors being sparked of you two, it’s likely a good thing for the exchange to happen publicly. At least that way, everyone can see how casual and strictly friendly your interaction is as well as that you’re not keeping his clothes.

“Thank you for lending this to me,” you tell him as you unravel it from your arm. He takes it with a smile.

“It was no problem at all,” he assures. “Have you heard the rumors?” he asks with a small laugh. You duck your head and let out your own chuckle.

“I have,” you confirm. “Quite absurd, isn’t it?” He shrugs and sticks his chin out.

“Oh not too absurd in the realm of Asgard gossip,” he muses back to you. “We wouldn’t be the first pair of childhood friends to end up betrothed.” When he puts it that way, you suppose he’s not wrong. From the outside world, it does seem feasible.

“Are you getting as much pressure as they say about wedding a woman?” you ask softly.

“Oh I’m sure it’s exaggerated. It is not something I am worrying about for the moment.” He gives a wave of his hand to brush the idea away. “Will you be joining us this evening?” He gives a nod to the tavern door, but you shake your head.

“I have some plans I want to look over tonight still.” He gives you a polite smile at your gentle refusal.

“Well, then I shall bid you a good night.” He reaches forward and takes your hand in his, bowing his head as he brings it up, his fingers sliding under your palm until he’s just barely cradling the ends of your fingers. He presses his lips to the tops of your knuckles and gives you a playful wink. “Good evening, my Lady.”

“Are you trying to fan the flames of the rumors?” you tease, slipping your hand out of his.

“Of course not! You’d have to join us for drinks if I wanted to properly do that.” You both laugh before you pat him on the shoulder and tell him goodnight as well.

When you arrive back at your room, it takes you a few minutes to notice the sealed envelope sitting on your desk with your name in a fancy script that you recognize all too well as Loki’s. Your heart beats a little faster and you feel a breath get caught in your throat as you break the seal.

Inside, there’s a single page with a single sentence.

I surely hope you don’t expect to get this delicious book back.

---

I promise things get steamy in the next part. Just wait. If you’re excited, let me know by liking, commenting, and reblogging.

If you’re really feeling generous, buy me a coffee! https://ko-fi.com/writerashley

Keep up with my progress on Instagram! https://www.instagram.com/thatfandomwriter/

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41 notes · View notes

loruleanheart · 4 years

Text

Desired Fate, Chapter 8

Read on ff.net

Read on AO3

The sky was an overcast grey, giving little light to Zelda’s chambers as the princess sat on a small settee, trying to focus on the book she held which contained her carefully written research notes. Urbosa, Link, and Impa had left that morning for Gerudo Desert where they would all board the Divine Beast, Vah Naboris, and set out for the Yiga Hideout.

There was a light knock at her door.

“Come in.”

Zelda turned her head to see one of her ladies-in-waiting holding a tray with a teapot and a cup for her.

“Thought this might lift your spirits, Your Highness.”

This gave Zelda pause. Was it that apparent she was feeling low?

“That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you.” The Princess acknowledged but barely smiled.

The attendant poured her a cup and gave a bow before turning to leave.

The tea gave off a pleasant earthy aroma, and as Zelda waited for it to cool she anxiously wondered what sort of news her champions would return with.

She redirected her attention back to her research which she’d gathered from books at the Royal Tech Lab as well as the castle’s library. She skimmed what she’d written down, finding it helpful to return to these notes every so often. Perhaps she’d add more soon where she’d record everything she’d learned thanks to the little Guardian with knowledge of the future.

This made her recall records that Robbie and Purah had shared with her before the arrival of that mysterious Guardian. These records indicated that there were many different types of Guardians stored in five giant columns that rested beneath the castle. These Guardians would be key in combating the Calamity, just as they had 10,000 years ago.

But how do I access them? Despite knowing every inch of the castle, I’ve never seen these columns. They must be buried deep underground, but I can’t give up looking… Even if I can’t find the columns themselves, maybe there’s something to activate them?

She thought she’d go insane from the feeling of impending doom if she didn’t do everything she could. Especially after being excluded from accompanying Urbosa to the Yiga Hideout, Zelda was feeling especially useless. She couldn’t afford to waste a single moment. She could at least agree with her father on that, even if they didn’t see eye to eye on what constituted a waste of time.

As unproductive as she was feeling, she forced herself towards the first area that came to mind for her to begin her search. She made her way to the secret passage in the library that led to the docks, praying she wouldn’t cross paths with her father on the way there.

After traversing the castle’s long hallways, she reached her destination and breathed a sigh of relief that she had gone unnoticed by castle staff. She began to descend the darkened staircase, illuminated only by torches that lined the natural rock walls.

As she rounded the corner and began to descend the last flight of steps she froze. She wasn’t alone down here. Her heart leapt and she audibly exhaled when she perceived who it was. The strange variation of the Gerudo emblem on the back of the Prophet of Doom’s robe had been etched into her mind both from her meeting with him in Korok Forest as well as the newest image on the Sheikah Slate.

“Halt! Take down your hood.” The princess ordered.

Astor turned to her slowly, appearing caught off guard by her presence. He rolled his eyes and smirked, doing as she asked.

His collarbone length dark hair nearly covered his Hylian ears. He gave her a look as if to say ‘Are you satisfied?’

Zelda stared at the man before her, speechless. A little in relief that he hadn’t put up a fight, but also feeling that he wasn’t as intimidating without his hood. She wondered if he ever got distracted by the braid that hung in front of his right eye. Still, he was undeniably beautiful to her, and she hated herself for thinking so, given who he was and what he’d done and probably would do if she couldn’t stop him

This man is going to be the death of me… If not literally, then figuratively… He seeks to revive Calamity Ganon. You should find him repulsive just from that fact alone. Ugh… What is WRONG with me… I truly am just a failure in more ways than one… I’m just broken… Horribly and irrevocably broken...

Astor was transfixed by the princess’s serene expression as she descended the stairs coming into the light of a nearby torch. She looked at him imploringly, and it unnerved him how she held him in her gaze. She only averted her intense gaze away for a brief moment to sweep a lock of her golden blonde hair away from her face before folding her hands in front of herself in a self-conscious manner. The luxurious fabric of her royal blue dress melded nicely to her figure. This girl, a woman and a queen-in-practice really, was the picture of Hylian beauty, not that Astor would allow himself to acknowledge that. She appeared so out of place in this dark, underground environment. The urge to look away was strong, but still, Astor held her gaze. He almost felt ashamed that this delicate girl was his mortal enemy. She didn’t look capable of sealing Calamity Ganon. She didn’t look like she was capable of sealing anything really, even though he’d so clearly seen it play out in prophetic dreams - more like nightmares, really - and he knew better. It would have been so easy to call upon his Hollows to end her existence right then and there, but something stopped him.

Zelda spoke softly. “Astor… How did you get in here?”

It had been such a long time since Astor had been addressed by name. Hearing it on the princess’s lips was somehow sweet.

“You think it would be difficult for me? Don’t insult me! This isn’t my first time.” He said in an intimidating manner, his voice smooth. He’d been called here before by Calamity Ganon. That was when he’d found his Harbinger. He now sensed something or someone different calling him to this place. Normally he’d disregard such a calling. It was just a distraction from his purpose as Calamity Ganon’s chosen. But the pull towards this place on this occasion was so strong, he couldn’t deny he was curious. And it had led him to the princess of Hyrule.

The Princess continued to hold him in her gaze, her voice taking on a more serious intonation. “Here to make another attempt on my life?”

Astor gave a wicked smile, questioning the vision he’d seen of her. Pathetic girl is being run ragged by fate… She’s practically begging to have her thread cut.

“Are you inviting me to do so? The princess with the blood of the goddess volunteering herself as a blood sacrifice to the Calamity… Exquisite… Your power could be mine for the taking forever.” His irises constricted in desire, and then his expressions darkened. “Then maybe I could, at last, get you off my mind….”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It was a morbid sentiment, of course, but hearing him say it sent her reeling. There was a strange energy between them, a sort of magnetism.

“It’s not mine to give. I have my own destiny to fulfill.”

“Your answer doesn’t sound very confident, Your Highness.” He purred.

He’d seen right through her somehow. The Princess’s eyes widened and her face paled a bit in shame. Her lips parted to speak, but she said nothing.

“You… Certainly aren’t what I was expecting. I could never foresee that Hyrule’s princess would spare me, a disciple of Calamity Ganon.” Astor said, his voice held a sense of awe. “I wonder what your appointed knight had to say about that? Where is that despicable little pest? I thought he never left your side.”

Zelda bit the inside of her cheek. “Well, I… I couldn’t just stand by and watch you get killed.”

“Why not? I nearly succeeded in killing you. And you know I am bound by fate to try again…”

The princess sensed his words were just as hollow as hers. She narrowed her eyes at him, taking a few steps closer to the Prophet of Doom.

He takes a step back, his smile faltering. “You dare to test -” But it was too late, as he was hit with a multitude of images flashing through his mind's eye’. He recoiled, holding his head.

Zelda looked on with concern. “What was that?”

Astor tried to clear his mind, shaking. For a moment he had been back in that strange place that seemed to be an amalgamation of Korok Forest and the Lost Woods. A surreal place where the Silent Princess flowers grow abundant.

“Stay away from me….” He growled.

Zelda blinked, perplexed as to what had just overtaken the prophet. “Astor… Why would you want to destroy Hyrule? This is your home, too. What have you to gain from destroying it?”

Astor bristled at the question. This foolish royal girl wouldn't be able to comprehend his motivation given her station and role in this world, so he just answered simply, “This world is rightfully Calamity Ganon’s.”

Zelda reflected on this a moment. His answer was off-putting for her to hear, but still, she was determined to better understand what had led him down such a dark path. “But, why devote yourself to Calamity Ganon? How do you even know Calamity Ganon isn’t using you? Or do you plan to sacrifice yourself for this insane cause?”

Astor recalled Sooga’s words. He wanted so much to lie through his teeth and say yes, but he honestly wasn’t satisfied with that answer. But, to answer truthfully would be a weakness and disloyalty to Lord Ganon. Not that he was ready to accept that the Great Calamity would ever require such a thing of him, or worse betray him.

Instead, he simply said, “My fate is to be at the right hand of Calamity Ganon.”

“I see…” Zelda said unconvinced. “I’m no prophet, but if you continue on your current path you’re almost certainly going to fall, either by the sword that seals the darkness or by your master when your usefulness has ended. Please stop what you’re doing… I… I don’t want to see this dark fate consume you.” Her answer sounded so confident this time.

The prophet’s insides twisted up. He hadn’t been prepared for the princess of Hyrule herself to beseech him in such a forthright manner. No, he had just expected her to oppose him with only righteous anger and nothing else. Why did she care so much? Why did she have to make this so complicated… and even uncomfortable. It was one thing to hear such a warning from Sooga, as rudely as he had put it. But it was another to hear it again from his mortal enemy, and he was so unaccustomed to kindness. And here she was… She wasn’t begging for her life. She was begging for his. This wasn’t going how he expected. No, she just felt like an unwanted distraction, perhaps even.... a temptation?

“Spare me, Your Highness, “ He spat. “I don’t need pity from the weakest chain in the goddesses’ bloodline!”

Zelda shifted her posture, turning her head slightly away from him, wounded by his words. He might as well have stabbed her in the heart and left her to bleed. But she held back. If he thought she was going to cry over insults she’d heard before and internalized, he had another thing coming.

“It’s so much more than pity...” Zelda said softly as she looked at the ground, her voice wavering.

However, It was painfully obvious he was a force she wasn’t going to be able to persuade, she thought, losing hope. Not that she was surprised.

Astor turned to go and Zelda let out a little gasp, knowing where he might be going. “Wait… Please, don’t leave…”

He turned and gave her a strange look.

Zelda chose her words carefully, knowing her champions were still in the middle of a dangerous mission at the Yiga Hideout, and she couldn’t put them at risk.

“Astor… If you don’t heed my warning... you will almost certainly face defeat… And it may come sooner than you think…” Zelda wished her final warning wasn’t so cold, so sterile, even vaguely threatening, but it was the best she could do all things considered. Still, she knew the moment he left she’d be in a world of self-loathing and regret. Self-loathing that she cared a little too much for him, and regret that she had failed to stop him.

He scoffed at her warning. “Your pleas are meaningless to me. I am a great seer and prophet of the Calamity. And you… are but a mere nuisance in my path. You will not impede my fate any further. Farewell, Your Highness…” He paused a moment as if hesitant to leave. He almost looked a little sorry. “If you should survive the Calamity... What will I do with you?” And with that, he vanished.

#Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity #Age of Calamity #HWAOC #Astor #fanfiction #Some real interaction here between the two #I can just imagine all the Zelda's of the past judging AOC Zelda and being like #"Don't despair he's got plot armor and he'll be around at least until the final battle.#Zelast

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

Another Chance

Fandom: Chicago PD / One Chicago

Characters: Kim Burgess x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 2,135

Request: Can you do a Kim Burgess imagine, were you friends with her since you were little and when you moved away she was crushed so when you come back to Chicago you ask her out on a date and it's really cute, maybe a picnic date in the park? thank you lovely

Kim was one of the first people you called when you found out your job was moving you back to Chicago. You’d been friends since you were little, practically inseparable until you’d left the city for college. She’d been crushed when you left, and you’d been crushed to leave her, it was like leaving a part of yourself.

You and Kim had always just been friends, you’d never crossed that line, though you’d come pretty close once or twice. She’d visited you in college a couple of times, but then she’d become a flight attendant and you’d found a job near where you were going to school, and the two of you had lost touch.

There were still occassional phone calls, and birthday and Christmas cards, but you’d always thought of Kim as the one that got away, especially as you’d gotten older and started to understand the feelings that you’d had for her.

Now you were back in Chicago, and although you had no idea how Kim felt now, or how she felt then, you didn’t want this regret to hang over you forever. They’d told you the Chicago position at your firm could be permanent if you wanted it to be, and you’d told them you’d give it serious thought, but you’d actually just wanted to check that there was even a reason for you to stay in Chicago first.

Kim had sounded excited over the phone, but her shifts in Intelligence had her working late as your flight arrived on Friday, so you’d taken a taxi back to your hotel and thought about what you were going to say to her when you saw her in person.

You’d made plans to meet up the next day, at the park you used to picnic at as kids, and you spent way too long deliberating over what outfit you were going to wear to see her. It was ridiculous, she practically knew you better than anyone, but suddenly you were nervous.

These feelings you had for her hadn’t gone away, even after all these years, but now they were right at the surface as you rummaged through your luggage for an appropriate outfit.

When you had finally chosen some trousers and a nice blouse you looked back at your messages again, specifically the last one Kim had sent saying: ‘it’s a date’ to your proposed time to meet in the park.

Your mind had gone to the obvious places and you’d had to tell yourself over and over that she didn’t mean it that way, but as you tossed and turned that night before finally falling asleep, you’d wondered if she had meant it that way afterall.

You had packed a variety of picnic food in your bag as you crossed the familiar roads to the pack, memories of your childhood and your time spent with Kim coming flooding back to you as you wandered around the streets of Chicago, it felt like you’d never left.

There was an assortment of the foods you’d used to bring as children, as well as the more grown up food you ate now, but the nostalgia had hit you hard as you were scanning the isles of the supermarket that you’d had to grab some of the kids stuff, for old time’s sake.

It took you a second to spot Kim once you arrived, sitting on a picnic blanket under the same tree you’d both used to scale as kids. You knew why she’d picked it, you’d both carved your initials in it together when you’d graduated, as a reminder that you’d be friends for life, wherever life took you.

Your heart swelled just thinking about it as she spotted you heading over, her face lighting up as she rushed over to greet you, both of you nearly toppling over with the force of the hug. Not that you minded.

“God I’ve missed you, hi!” Kim said excitedly, wrapping her arms around you with a strength you didn’t remember her having, not before she joined the police anyway.

“I’d tell you how much I missed you too if I could breath,” you laughed as she let go, mouthing sorry but still grinning. You knew you had the same grin on your face, it was straining your cheeks but you didn’t care, you were so happy to see him. “It is so good to see you,” you told her, squeezing her arm.

“Gosh how long has it been?” She asked as she directed you to where she had been sitting, taking your bags off and taking a seat next to her on her picnic blanket.

“Too long,” you replied, removing your jacket.

“Agreed,” she said, “well you look good anyway,” she added, looking you up and down. You didn’t think you’d changed much until you’d skimmed your old year book after you’d found out you were coming home. But it had been the better part of ten years since you’d seen each other face to face like this, and you’d both changed.

“Thanks,” you shrugged, feeling a little bit of heat creep into your cheeks and hoping she wouldn’t notice in the sun as you added, “so do you, guess chasing after bad guys does you good,” she laughed. Kim did look good, you noted to yourself, and not just in her actual physical appearance either, although she definitely did. You couldn’t quite explain it, but she looked more confident, sure of her self... sexier? You shook that last thought from your head.

“Oh yeah, you definitely get in that cardio,” she joked, “how was your flight anyway, sorry I couldn’t pick you up,” she apologised but you waved her off.

“It’s not problem, really, you were busy keeping the city safe,” she had nothing to apologise for. You saw your initials carved into the tree out the corner of your eye and nodded towards it, “they wouldn’t believe us if we told them where we’d be right now,” you said, thinking back to the day you’d both snuck out late to carve your friendship in stone... well, wood.

Kim smiled fondly at the memory, “I definitely wouldn’t have believed I’d ever be a cop, especially not a cop in as high profile a unit as Intelligence, some of my family members still have a hard time believing it,” she said, tracing the letters lightly with her fingers.

“I thought I’d be waiting tables forever,” you admitted, “I felt like I BS’d by way through law school and now I’m just some fraud pretending I know what I’m talking about in the court room,” you explained.

“Waiting for the day someone finally catches on and tells us we’re not supposed to be where we are,” Kim finished for you, glancing back at you with the realisation that you both felt the same way.

She opened her mouth to say something more to you when her stomach grumbled, both laughing as you decided to get out the foods you’d brought to eat. As it turns out, you’d both brought the food you used to sneak out the house when you were younger, candy bars and chocolate that your parents had kept for special treats stuffed under your shirts and in your pockets, only to be shared with each other once you’d made it to your concealed spot at the top of the tree.

Neither of you were going to be climbing it now, but as you divided out sandwiches and snacks, and the bottle of wine Kim had brought, you couldn’t help but watch her as she poured.

You reminisced as you ate, trading stories about what you’d been up to since college and laughing at memories of your youth together, your school years and misadventures. Kim had thrown a grape at you when you’d made a comment about her embarrassing middle school bangs and you’d returned the favour when she’d brought up your disasterous first kiss, and for a while, it was like it used to be, like you were the only two people in the world.

“I’ve missed you Kim,” you said suddenly, after a little bit of a pause in conversation, your feelings and emotions getting the better of you as you reached out and squeezed her hand.

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t have moved away.” She said it as a joke but you felt the jab, your regret about leaving her behind never really leaving you, even after all these years.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” you admitted. Kim blinked at the sincerity of your tone, both of you forgetting that you were still holding either other’s hands.

“It hurt,” she told you honestly, looking down at your hands but not pulling away. You swallowed hard as she spoke, hardly daring to breath as you listened. “We did everything together, we promised we’d be friends for life, never without each other, and then you were gone.”

“I know,” you nodded, “I never expected... life to- to happen like this,” you waved your free hand around like that explained everything, “but it’s no excuse, I’m sorry.”

Kim met your eyes, silent for a second before she said anything, a sad smile on her face as she did. “It’s not you fault, not entirely, we both got so busy that we never really made time for each other anymore, not in any real way anyway,” she said but you didn’t respond, seeing she had more to say but was wrestling with how to say it, “it’s on me too, you might have left for college... but I took that badly, I’ll be the first to admit that now, and when I visited you and saw how much fun you were having with your new friends, I got jealous okay? It was always me and you you know?”

She looked away, a little embarrassed to finally be getting that off of her chest. You took a breath, she’d come clean to you, it was only fair you did the same, here went nothing. “Kim I- I always meant to come back to Chicago, but when we stopped visiting each other, and hell, when you started travelling the world, I didn’t see a place in your life anymore, at least not in the way I wanted, so I took the job at this firm because I didn’t want to risk us not... being the same when I got back, I thought that would hurt more.”

You hadn’t quite confessed everything, but you both definitely had a lot to think over as you sat there, wind rustling in the trees as birds chirped and children played around you in the mid afternoon sun. What you really wanted to tell her, but what you didn’t think you could, was that you’d realised you were in love with her, and the thought of her not reciprocating had seemed like the worse alternative to just not being in her life at all.

It had been selfish, you knew that, but at the time it had made sense to you. But still, seeing the hurt flash on Kim’s face was reopening that old wound. You didn’t know how long you both sat in silence, still holding hands but both deep in thought.

Kim was the first to speak, chewing her lip selfconsciously. “When I said that I wanted things to be just you and me, I wanted us to be more than that, if that makes any sense, and seeing you in college, with your new friends, I realised that I was never going to fill that place in your life,” she explained.

“I felt like that too,” you replied, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, it meant so much to me that... that I panicked when I started to realise the way I actual felt about you, so I left...” taking a breath you finally said it outloud for the first time: “I think I was in love with you.”

Kim took a sharp breath, but despite your fear, she smiled. “I was in love with you too,” she admitted, all the weight lifting from your chest as you felt like you could finally breath, “do you think we’ve missed our chance?”

“I think maybe we have another chance right now...” you suggested slowly, watching for her reaction, “I mean if-” You began, not wanting to be too forward or push her into a corner.

But your words were taken right out of your mouth as you realised that she was kissing you, pulling you towards her by your collar.

You’d thought about this more often that you’d ever admit, especially when you were first starting to realise your feelings, and to be kissing her right now. You leaned in, cupping her face.

You’d both wasted enough time, you weren’t going to waste anymore.

#kim burgess #chicago pd #one chicago #kim burgess x reader #kim burgess imagine #chicago pd imagine #kim burgess imagines #chicago pd imagines #kim burgess one shot #chicago pd one shot #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #one chicago one shot #one shot

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criminally--reid · 4 years

Text

library lovers

I h8 the title- n e ways... here's the fix that's been promised to be posted at least twice a week for the past month 😌✋🏽also if u want untagged yk who u are smsbsj lmk,, i just thought id use the anon tag so u could see it snsbsj n e ways let's get on wiv d shit show

warnings: awkward chaotic gay, general smutty stuff y'know, mutual masturbation, i’ve never written mxm fic before so yonkers :|

word count: 2.6k

Pairing: bi!spencer x (dom-ish)male!reader

//a.n.\\ somehow the reader ends up in charge and i kinda like it tbh. i'm shit at storylines, but honestly,, highschool homophobe masturbating with spencer reid? Call that character development

`°•○●○•°`

You hadn't seen Spencer in years. Remembering the terms the two of you ended on, you weren't surprised either. All throughout highschool, you were the movie-esque tormentors of the frail, nerdy kid. The bully that wasn't actually supposed to exist. The absolute nightmare that had kids like Spencer trembling, dreading to relive the same terror another day.

Shock couldn't even begin to cover what you felt the day you watched him walk into the library you now owned. You had been working on forgetting him since graduation. Just when you thought the remnants of Spencer had dripped entirely from your memory, everything came flooding in the matter of milliseconds the moment he walked through your door. All the times you watched him eat alone, pick his things up alone after someone had thrown them out of his hands; all the times you could've stepped up and just chose not to. You promised yourself you'd be different. Now was your chance.

You subtly watch Spencer as he looks through the many isles of books. Beginning at young adult, trailing quickly to non-fiction, and eventually ending up in the classic section. He doesn't spend much time amongst the books - 5 minutes at the most since he walked in - before bringing a stack of 6 books up to the counter; you anxiously waiting to scan him in.

"Did- did you find all your books alright?" You manage to ask. Spencer merely nods his head, crossing his arms and bringing one of his hands up to his mouth, chewing on his fingernails. His brows furrow and you're worried he's about to say something.

"I'm a little surprised to see you working here actually." This throws you off. You did not plan for this- this confrontation.

"I take it you remember me?"

"I'm not really one to forget things, you know." Fair enough.

"Well, yes. I actually run the place now. My grandfather had passed it on to me."

"Oh he's…? I'm so sorry for your loss."

Spencer's look of sincerity throws you off. After all the years of you being his worst fear, he still had room in his heart to be genuinely kind towards you.

"It's fine, really. It was so long ago now. And besides- now I have this grand, ancient bookstore." You end with a chuckle and finish scanning the barcodes in each of his books.

"Thank you- uh actually, could you help me find something else?"

"Of course! What're you looking for?"

"Everyone keeps recommending me Donna Tart, where could I find some of her work?"

"Follow me," you gesture and move from behind the counter.

You walk him over to the very back of the store where all the dark academia-esq books are. While sifting through the books, he asks you a question that catches you completely off guard; his voice nothing above a whisper.

"And I take it that you don't still hate me-"

You immediately know what he's talking about. How silly of you to think the past wouldn’t be brought up.

You clear your throat before speaking up. "I- n-no of course not. I- I uh- I know this is extremely cliche, and I'm not trying to excuse away any of the horrible things I did to you but- I was hiding."

"From what?" Spencer chimes in quietly.

"I just didn't know how to feel about myself. Gay this and gay that- it was all so negative. I didn't want to be known for something that was apparently so wrong. I definitely couldn't let the football playing circle jerkers I called my friends know about how I felt towards other guys. An-and I saw how they treated people like you and I didn't want that, so I joined them."

"So you're gay?" Spencer asks, and you nod slowly. "And you and your 'circle jerking buddies' tortured me because you all thought I was gay?"

"Well- I- we uh- that's what they said. I knew it wasn't good, but I didn't do anything because of what I was. I know the word 'sorry' will never make up for anything I've ever done or said to you, but I am so so sorry, Spencer."

"You guys just knew I was gay? -Gaydar that strong, huh?" Spencer ends in a chuckle, easing up your tension, allowing you to slip out a soft laugh, too.

"Obviously, it wasn't too good. I somehow managed to skate by for four years."

"That you did." For the first time in years, when you look at Spencer, he doesn't look upset. A content, lazy smile accompanies his happy eyes as he. "Well- actually, I'm not entirely gay so I guess their gaydar needed some tweeking, hm?"

"Oh, you're-" you attempt, but get cut-off.

"Bi? Yeah. I realized I was bi when I realized I had a crush on you and your tenth grade girlfriend. What about you?"

Still skimming the pages of a Donna Tart book, never looking up from it. So nonchalant. Him being so upfront with you was honestly exciting. You never imagined that you'd be remotely friendly with Spencer Reid, let alone him revealing he had a crush on you. "Ah, about junior year, I figured out I kinda had a thing for you."

"Say, uh," Spencer started, tucking his hair behind his ear and slipping the book back onto the shelf. "I liked you; you liked me. Why don't we hang out sometime or something-"

You could tell Spencer was trying hard to mask his enthusiasm. You were too.

"Erm- yeah totally! I get off in about an hour actually; I could call you, and we could grab coffee or something."

"Sounds great," Spencer says hurriedly as he fishes around in his pocket, drawing out a small slip of paper and drawing the pen from his shirt pocket. He hands you the freshly used paper with his number inscribed on it in smudged black ink.

The next hour, excitement coursed through you. You're bustling around, fidgeting, unshelving and re-shelving books, sweeping, mopping - anything to keep your mind off of the end of your shift. The busiest yet slowest hour of your life. Your shift ends and your excitement reaches its peak. Your finger hovers over the call button at the bottom of your screen, hesitating. For a split second you get the courage to press call, but then you immediately regret it - that is until his hurried, excited voice slips through the speaker.

"Hey, y/n! It's Spencer! Uh- you know.. that.. of course. Anyways, uh there's this coffee shop about a block away from my place. I wondered if maybe you'd wanna go and have an early dinner or something."

You can't help but chuckle at his excitement; trying to calm down your own. "That sounds great, Spencer. What's the place?"

"Café Negra-"

"What?!" you cut him off "I go there all the time! How have I never seen you?"

"What? That's insane. How have we not crossed each other there?"

"No clue.. Anyways I'll meet you there- uh about 20?"

"Perfect." Spencer hangs up without any formal goodbyes, but you couldn't care less - you couldn't wait to meet him at the coffee shop.

The date - which neither of you bothered to assign that title to the event, but you both knew it was, in fact, a date - went impressively well. It's like you two had never been enemies in the first place. Those four years in high school wiped clean of any hard feelings as the two of you drank coffee way too strong for 6p.m., ate double chocolate muffins, and laughed away.

When it comes time to leave, Spencer stands up first, throwing away his cup and muffin wrapper; you follow quickly and do the same.

A mutual agreement was somehow made to take it back to Spencer's place. Maybe it was the lack of goodbyes that he seemed prone to. Whatever it was, the evening didn't feel finished.

Once inside his cozy apartment, he welcomes you to his couch before maneuvering to the tv stand, kneeling down and pulling out three movies. He gestures for you to choose one, and you choose Titanic. Not the greatest choice of the three, but you had a feeling you wouldn't be focused on the movie too much anyways.

He puts the disc into the player before joining you on the couch. About twenty minutes into the movie, he moves closer to you, resting his shoulder slowly, cautiously as if asking permission. You ease his nerves by welcoming his head on your shoulder and leaning against him in return. The next half an hour is full of stolen glances, light touches, and snuggling. All innocent until Spencer slides his hand up your thigh. You try not to mind it much. Maybe he's just absentminded in all the contact. He doesn't know what he's doing. You try to focus on the movie and not on his hand getting ever so dangerously close until you just can't anymore. Looking down at him, he's already making eye contact with you, driving you wild. Instinctually you connect your lips with his.

Spencer shuffles over and straddles your lap, never disconnecting your lips. Your hands roam around his shoulders and back before dipping underneath the hem of his shirt and pulling it off. He makes quick work of returning the favor. After a few more chaste kisses, he stands up, pulling you up with him, and pushes his pants to the floor with you following suit. Spencer places his fingers under your chin, bringing your face up to his in an attempt to place another open-mouthed kiss on your bite-swollen lips. However, you muster up a burst of courage and manage to flip the script. Placing your fingers on Spencer’s chest and holding him at arm's length, you keep eye contact while you take a seat on one end of the couch. You motion for him to take his seat at the other end.

Spencer, still unsure of the current situation, watches you move. He watches as you run your fingertips up and down your thighs. As you wet the palm of your hand with your tongue before running it up and down your shaft. Lightly tracing your fingertips over your reddened head, hissing at the contact.

“Your turn,” you say barely above a whisper.

Spencer’s eyes go wide, but he still obliges, wetting his hand and repeating your actions on himself. Hissing and cursing at the contact with his eager cock. He soon gets lost in his own world of pleasure. Moving faster and moaning barely-there profanities. Watching the show, you bring your hand back to yourself. Your eyes shut as you listen to Spencer; his pretty gasps like music to your ears.

“Y-y/n? I’m- I’m close.”

“Awh, so soon? You sure you can’t hold on for me just a little longer?”

Spencer lets out a strangled moan and forces himself to slow his pace. Watching him struggle to contain himself turns you on even more. His desperate whines and pleas for release getting you closer to the edge. “Look at me, bubbas,” you coax.

Spencer looks up at you, pushing a tuft of hair from his eyes. His other hand still desperately attached to the base of his cock, awaiting further instruction.

“Listen.. We’re gonna cum together okay?” Spencer only manages a nod in response so you continue. “I want you to move faster again; get closer. But I want you to let me know when you’re about to cum, okay?”

You’re met with a furious nod for an answer as he works at his waist, bringing himself closer to his climax; you simultaneously doing the same.

“F-fuck fuckfuckfuck! -M gonna cum. Shit! I’m cumming!” Spencer's cries of pleasure send you over the edge and you both spill over together. Your head dips back over the armrest of the couch as you try to catch your breath. You bring your head back up and look at Spencer, only to see him leaning sideways against the back of the couch, still out of breath and coates in a layer of sweat.

“Why don’t we go get cleaned up, hm?”

Spencer nods his head in agreement before getting up off the couch and leading you to the bathroom. You definitely aren’t going home tonight.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #gay #mlm #x reader #self insert fanfic #matthew gray gubler #mgg #cm #smut #fluff #spencer reid x reader #🕯anon

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