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Apricity

[Table of Contents]

CHAPTER ELEVEN, Arrival

Day 34, Monday

"And you said it's called the Flare?" Newt murmurs thoughtfully, his chin in a hand as he thinks over everything you had just explained. The world practically ending, the virus that spread throughout the world and destroyed any semblance of hope. What Wicked was aiming to do, and the reason they had put all of them into the maze to begin with. And, of course, that Thomas' blood held the key to the cure that Wicked knew nothing about.

"Why me?" Thomas mutters under his shaky breath, and you suddenly can't stand the distance anymore. You stood finally, though neither boy turned to watch as you did so, and you made your way over to sit next to Thomas. You raise an arm to rub his back, leaning into his side as you do so to try and provide any sort of comfort you can.

"We don't know it is you," Newt mutters under his breath, before sighing with defeat. "A lot has changed- practically everything has changed from that book that [Y/N] is talking about. This world might've once been based on that, but it's pretty evident that it's not the exact same." You look up quickly toward Newt, your eyes widening in horror. He was right. There was no way to know that anything besides the people and the place were the same in this world. Maybe the reason Thomas never got them out was because he wasn't actually the cure?

"Well, we won't know until we test it," Thomas mutters, his voice resigned. You look back at him in confusion, wondering why he sounds so defeated- almost like he knows what he has to do. Your question is answered pretty quickly as he speaks up once again, "Which means we have to leave the maze and get captured by Wicked again." He hesitates, his brows furrowed in confusion before he huffs, "I mean, for the first time?"

"You're right," Newt mutters, dropping his head into his hands, and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees once again. "I don't think we have a choice in the matter anymore. We have to get out of here."

"You always have a choice," You inject quickly, shaking your head. Newt lifts his head, and both boys look at you with a look of confusion, but also slight pity. "You don't have to do anything with this information. I-" You huff, hesitating and stuttering, "I went into the maze because I wanted you all to have the option to leave if you wanted to. But the world out there- I mean, there's practically not one. It's all horrible," You shake your head quickly, willing them to understand. "It's death, and destruction, and dehydration. Manipulation, and- and desperation." You're breathing heavily by the end of this, picturing them in those horrible scenarios once again. It wasn't just entertainment anymore, you were here, living in it all. "Here- I mean, you have everything you could need! Fresh food, and water, and- and-"

"We're trapped here, [Y/N]." Newt's voice is calm but steady and sure. It calms your racing heart and your anxieties that were popping up without truly realizing it. Before you know it, Thomas is rubbing your back instead of you rubbing his, and he's comforting you, trying to calm you down. You slowly steady your breathing, refusing to break the locked gaze you have with Newt. "If there was ever a choice, we wouldn't be here."

"But," Thomas interjects with a small smile, glancing at Newt before looking back at you. "With you, we have a chance to stay one step ahead." He nods, and you stare into his darkened brown eyes in this lighting, comfort bleeding through his every pore and gesture and word. You couldn't help but relax into his arm. He looks back to Newt, pulling you in even tighter. "You're right, this world might not be exactly the same. But it's the same enough, I'd like to think. Maybe we don't walk out of here, cocky like we know everything that will happen. But we can keep it all in mind, everything." Newt started to nod halfway through Thomas' speech, a smile slowly growing on his face.

"You're right." Newt shares a wide, happy grin with Thomas before directing his attention back to you. He pushes himself to stand, wandering over to your other side and sitting down next to you. He takes your hand, pulling it over to his lap so he can hold your one with both of his. "You're the key, [Y/N]." He laughs, breathless and with a tinge of disbelief. "This whole time, you thought you had to go out there, risk your life to kill a bloody Griever to get their stinger- you've been the key this whole time."

You blink a few times, trying to process what he's saying. Logically, you knew he was exaggerating. Obviously, you needed the stinger, the door wouldn't open without it. But you tried to truly understand what he was saying. You had knowledge none of them did; you not only knew how to get out of the maze but also how to get away from Wicked. You knew to head to the mountains, you knew how to get to the Safe Haven- kind of. Not the exact path, but you knew about the cruise ship, and about the Right Arm. In a weird sort of way, he was right.

"I," You stutter, shaking your head, feeling yourself already begin to panic with the weight of their expectations on you, "I don't want you to think I know everything. I've read the books once or twice, sure. But I didn't memorize them. I'll try my best to remember, but-"

"You've already remembered more than enough," Thomas mumbles down into your hair, pressing his face in close to you and wrapping his other arm around you. "Even if you didn't know anything that happened outside of this maze- what you've given us is so much more than we could've expected." You stare into Newt's warm gaze, feeling Thomas above and all around you, and you take in a deep breath. Your voice is quiet, shaky when you finally manage to speak.

"You both believe me?" Newt sighs out a small laugh, leaning in closer.

"We told you we would, didn't we?"

You were getting tired, and the boys could tell, you were sure. After you had gone over everything again that you remembered about how to get out of the maze, the boys had given each other a certain look that you still couldn't read- shuck it all- and both looked at you to say they were ready for bed. As if saying they wanted to sleep was the only way they could get you to lie down as well. They were right, of course, but you didn't want to admit that to them, or yourself.

By the time the three of you were standing to leave, you felt your bones creaking and popping from being in one position for much too long. However, you weren't exactly going to pull away from Thomas' embrace when he was finally wrapping his arms around you like he never wanted to let go. You wordlessly took the job of blowing out the lantern, waiting for one of the other two to open the doors and let in some light so you wouldn't be blinded by darkness. Glancing over to check their progress, you can see them with their heads bent together close to the door. It looks intimate, close like you just were with Thomas. Except, Newt was looking into his eyes, and glancing down at his lips, and you could swear you saw the intention of planting a kiss on him right there.

But then Thomas turns away, unaware, and Newt stares after him with longing, as if losing an opportunity. You felt bad for him, wanting them to find the comfort in each other that they so desperately needed. As Thomas pushes open the doors, the room is flooded with orange morning light, and you sigh before turning back toward the lantern, blowing the small flame out.

Newt was waiting for you, halfway between you and Thomas, who waited at the top of the stairs as he held the door open for you both. Newt lets you walk up first, taking the rear and checking behind himself to make sure nothing is amiss. As you climb out of the hole, you raise a hand to your face to block the bright light. It was only morning- sunrise, at best- but the light was still much brighter than that of the small cellar you were just in. By the time your eyes adjusted, you immediately began to look around and scan for that blinking red light. Seeing none, you turn back to watch Thomas close the door as quietly as he could. Newt was staring at you, then glancing around curiously as if wondering what you had been looking for. You made a mental note to inform Newt about the little recording bugs that Wicked has set up.

The three of you are quiet as you make your way back to the Medjack hut, however the Glade was not so much. As you break through the edge of the Deadheads, Alby comes storming out of the Medjack hut with a murderous look, standing and scanning the entire Glade with his eyes. You hear a muttered, 'Uh oh,' from Newt right before Alby locks eyes with your group. It feels as though he's staring directly at you, into your soul, but you're sure that he's just focused on your whole group that suddenly went missing in the middle of the night. He begins to walk in your direction, closing the distance even faster than you would've from walking there yourselves.

"What the shucking-" Alby stops himself, pinching his lips together and huffing out a disapproving sigh, closing the distance even further before attempting to speak again. "Why are you not in bed?" He finally looks away from you, glaring at Thomas and Newt over each of your shoulders. "You both should know better than to let them wander around-"

"Alby," Newt interrupts, and he brushes your arm as he passes you, jogging unsteadily to be ahead of you and meet with Alby before you or Thomas do. "I know what this looks like, but there are so many more important things you need to start worrying about." Alby looks confused, and still rather pissed off, as all four of you finally come to a stop near the middle of the Glade.

"Newt," He scoffs, crossing his arms, the muscles straining as if he's holding himself back, "Let me put this in a way you might understand. What the bloody hell is going on around here?"

"We really need to talk, Alby. All of us, the leaders. Somewhere private." Newt glances around warily, and you decide to copy the move. You see them instantly, a red blinking light in a tree, one sitting atop a fence post and another whirring through the air as if trying to find another decent angle to watch this interaction from. You weren't even the one to have to point it out, though, as Thomas' voice speaks up.

"Newt, I don't know if here is the place-"

"Yeah, I know," Newt mutters, keeping his eyes locked on Alby. "Get the rest of them. Ask Gally to bring you to his-" Newt stops himself, likely before he could say 'his secret project' since he knew Wicked was listening, "To his home away from home. We can talk there."

Whiiiiirrrrr-EEEEEEE

Everyone jumps in fright as the sound of a siren begins blazing through the courtyard, every head but yours turning in the same direction. You follow their eyes, every single Glader that you could see all looking toward the very epicenter of the Glade. Lights were flashing, spinning in circles, and the sounds of metal upon metal screeching and clashing and cracking against each other rang out into the air.

"It's not the first-" Alby begins, but he's interrupted once Newt pushes past him suddenly, sprinting unsteadily toward the elevator. Thomas is only a second behind, but he's a much faster runner at this point, and he makes it there before the sounds of the elevator rushing upward have even stopped. You're staring at Alby, wide-eyed and afraid, and you can see the confusion and anger in his eyes for not understanding what is happening and why. He finally turns away from you, taking a jog over toward the rest of the gathering Gladers.

You know what's happening. It's her.

You walk slowly, taking your time to get there. You can hear Newt trying to disperse everyone before the doors are even opened, and watch as Thomas and Gally get on either side of them, reaching for one door each. Newt's commands only half-work, some beginning to walk away and get on with their chores, however, the oddity of this happening when it was so unexpected keeps the other half from listening or comprehending what he's trying to say. By the time your feet make it over to the crowd, you hear the groan of the doors opening, and the clunk of the elevator coming to rest. You push past Glader after Glader, weaving your way through the crowd to look upon what you knew you were about to see.

You break through the front of them, glancing at and locking eyes with Newt before you both turn away from each other, looking down at who Gally and Thomas, and even Alby are already looking at. And there she is, lying there unconscious against the metal grate, with no other grain bag or chicken cage in sight.

Teresa Agnes.

You look away from her before anyone else, scanning the skies once again. They were watching, you knew it. At this point, you also knew they were curious about you. It wasn't a far shot to believe that they were watching for your reaction to these events. What exactly did you want to portray? That you were clueless, didn't know what was going on? That you knew exactly who she was and what they were about to do? You keep your expression neutral, looking over toward Newt and waiting for him to look your way. You're unshocked to see, instead, him staring at Thomas.

Thomas, himself, was still stuck staring into the elevator. You could practically see the gears turning in his mind- he knew what this meant. You'd just told him what this meant. So what was he going to do about it?

Newt is the first to move, jumping down into the box and approaching the unconscious girl. He pushes her hair aside, getting a good look at her face before finally glancing down at her fist. He leans down, pulling a slip of paper out and reading it before looking back up to the rest of us. He shields his eyes with one hand, a funny expression on his face like he's trying to act like he doesn't know what this means.

"It says 'She's the last one. Ever.'"

Just then, like clockwork, Teresa sits up, gasping for air. She looks straight up, out of the box. "Thomas," She gasps out, before falling backwards once again, going just as limp as she was a few moments ago. You look around and watch everyone turn their attention to Thomas, who only sighs and jumps into the box. Newt and Thomas lock eyes, and it's as if some plan you were unaware of is activated. Newt jumps out of the box, helping Thomas pull Teresa up and out. Alby and Gally are already at the top, shooing away the rest of the Gladers while your boys struggle to get the unconscious body up and out.

Then they go their separate ways. Newt approaches Alby, leaning in close and whispering fiercely while Thomas carries Teresa over to the Medjack hut, likely to lay her on a cot and watch over her. You hadn't had enough time to explain to him that she was likely to betray him- you only hoped that he would realize as much after telling him that Wicked sent her up here for a reason. You turn away from Thomas- not exactly wanting to be near Teresa to find out how Wicked really feels about you- and approach Newt and Alby. Alby's sharp gaze turns toward you, but he finally turns and begins to walk away from Newt before you get close enough to hear any words exchanged. Newt looks over at you as you stop next to him, nodding slowly.

"This is an unprecedented time. We're having that meeting I was calling right before she came up." You nod, biting your lip as you look between the Medjack hut and Newt. He seems to sense your hesitation, raising a hand to place on your arm. "You can go wherever you choose. If you want to stay with Tommy, feel free." You suck in a panicked breath, shaking your head minutely without even realizing it.

"I'd rather go to the meeting. I just- am I allowed?" Newt's face softens, and he takes a step closer, lowering his voice.

"Of course you are. They'll have to go through me to kick you out of there."

Everyone was talking over each other, and it was starting to give you a headache. You sat on the box you had just occupied with Thomas not too long ago, although you adopted the same stance that Newt had when you were explaining your story to him: leaned over, elbows on your knees, head in your hands. You rub at your temples, willing the headache to go away at least enough that you can think straight. However, with the ruckus around you, you were unsure you would've been able to think straight regardless.

"Alright, enough." Alby's voice pushes through the din of voices surrounding you, prompting a quick quieting of voices until none remain. When you feel you can finally take a non-suffocating breath, you raise your head up and drop your hands down in front of you, though remaining in your leaned-over position.

"Can someone please explain what the hell is going on around here?" Winston asks loudly in the ensuing silence, and you take in a deep breath, your eyes scanning over the Keepers who've assembled. It looked like everyone was here, even some Keepers who hardly ever attend such meetings, like Frypan himself.

"Yeah, what's the big deal? I was in the middle of making lunch."

"Yeah, like," Zart begins with a scoff, crossing his arms, "So shucking what some girl shows up when it's not the first of the month. It's not like the world is ending."

"Except it is," Newt interrupts. Alby had been raising a hand, mouth open to say something or calm everyone down, but Newt's voice cut through the din of murmuring before it had properly begun to fill the silence again. Everyone's eyes turn to him, confusion- and possibly even anger- written across their faces.

"Mind catching us up, Newt?" Gally asks, his brow furrowed further than normal, his arms crossed and tensed. You swallow roughly, bringing your hands together to wring them anxiously. You were curious what he was about to say as well.

"Sure." Newt takes a step forward, past Alby, into the center of the room. "For reasons that I can't share at this time, a few of us have reasons to believe that our time in the Glade is over."

"What do you mean, over?"

"How could you possibly know that-"

"What the shuck-"

"Everyone," Gally booms out, turning to glare at everyone in turn, his eyes skipping over you as if you aren't even there. "Shut the shuck up, and listen." He turns back to Newt, waving a hand as if to 'go on.' Newt nods his thanks, taking a deep breath.

"Teresa coming up- I don't know. The Creators might have noticed something was off and sent someone up to spy on us since it was so out of the blue. But we can't let ourselves get distracted by that." Newt glances at you with an apologetic expression, quick as a flash before it's gone, and he's looking around at everyone once again. "But [Y/N] here figured something out."

"I thought they were just here so we could figure out the punishment for them?" Winston asked suddenly, and everyone turned to look at him in confusion. "You know, for running into the maze?"

"What are we supposed to do about that?" Zart asks sarcastically, huffing out a sigh, "Send them right back in?"

"Guys," Newt calls, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "They figured something out before going into the maze. That's why they did it." He shrugs, his throat bobbing as he swallows roughly. "Plus, they saved Chuck's life, so I think we drop the punishment."

"Yeah, but his life wouldn't have been in danger if they hadn't run into the maze to begin with," Clint announces, his voice hardened. You chance a glance over to him, and he is resolutely looking away, but he has a hard mask over his face that you can't seem to pierce through. Was he truly mad at you?

"Look," Newt sighs, running a hand through his hair and placing a hand on his hip. "There's a lot-" He sighs again, the hand that went through his hair rubbing down his face now. "[Y/N] found the way out."

Now that silenced everyone.

Newt takes in another deep breath before nodding. "They remembered something, somehow. And they didn't want to risk anyone else's necks, so they went into the maze themself. It was stupid, and reckless, yes. But they did it for the good of the Glade." He glances at you, a sharp look mixed with something softer, and you can tell he's trying to tell them just enough without fully explaining how you know. You're just grateful no one is asking questions yet, as they all continue to stare at Newt, dumbfounded. "They killed a Griever, lured it into a trap. Yanked the stinger out and brought it back here. Apparently it- it's some sort of key."

"It is, I think," Minho agrees suddenly. He was sitting all the way across from you, on the other side of the crowd. The only other person to be sitting, you notice, and because of that he'd practically blended into the background. He had something large and dark in between his hands, and it took a moment for you to realize he was holding the stinger in his hands, rolling it back and forth. "I checked over my notes. This here has a number, and I think it corresponds to one of the numbered gates on the edge of the maze. If we can bring it there, we should be able to get out."

Everyone is quiet still, their faces varying from shock to awe, to relief and fear. It was a strange mix of emotions across a strange mix of people, and you swallow hard as your eyes trail over to Alby. He never made it out in the books. Was it possible, perhaps, for him to make it out now? For more of the Gladers to make it out than they had last time?

"Now, I know that [Y/N] broke the code of the Glade, sure. But I don't think that code really matters that much anymore- at this moment, anyway." Newt continues, raising a hand as if trying to console everyone. No one even seems to take in his sentence, as if too perturbed or distracted by the thought of escape. Even Alby walks forward, placing a hand on Newt's shoulder.

"How do we do it? When?" Newt swallows, glancing around at everyone individually before nodding.

"Right. I'd like to leave tonight because the arrival of Teresa can't be a coincidence. However, there's just too many people in the Glade and not enough time to prepare." Gally begins nodding and finally speaks up amongst the crowd.

"I have a strange feeling those doors aren't going to close tonight." Newt and Gally lock eyes, and you feel yourself tensing in your spot. Somehow, Gally understood the danger without either you or Newt having to say or hint at it. That would help, certainly, but as Gally's eyes flicker over to you and lock onto you, there's a feeling in your gut growing that Gally might need more than just reassurances later. Newt takes a loud, deep breath, and everyone looks back over to him.

"I'm of the same mind."

"So here's what we do," Alby states, taking a step past Newt and into center stage. He was still the leader here, after all. He glances over everyone, his eyes skipping over you as if you were inconsequential as if you shouldn't have been there in the first place. It was true, he didn't know you very well. Out of everyone in this room, you've probably spent the least amount of time with him. "Everyone go to your workers. Tell them there's no work to be done today. Fry, you grab however many Gladers you need and start packing any food that will last. Gally, you're in charge of water. No jugs, we need things that everyone can carry individually. We need to start moving people and supplies down into this cellar. We'll divide everything up once everyone and everything is down here. If anyone asks what's going on, just tell them something is happening, and it'll be explained later. Clint, do your best to make sure Chuck can stand and walk. Possibly even run, if it comes to it." Everyone is nodding, taking in the words of their leader. You take a look around the massive room, realizing with a start that you're finally going to see it filled.

"These boxes are mostly empty," Gally states, wandering over to one and lifting the lid to reveal what you assume is a void of emptiness, according to what he'd said- though you'd sitting and too far away to tell from your vantage point. "I mainly moved them in here to act as seats, or to get them out of the way after they started to pile up. But we can start to fill them with as many supplies as we can. Food, water, clothes, shoes, weapons. Whatever we'll need."

"Weapons?" Zart asks unsteadily, shifting on his feet. "You think we'll need weapons?"

"We can't guarantee the Creators will want us to leave. They'll likely send Grievers after us." It's Newt's voice that answers, nodding along with Gally's lead.

"You all are smart, capable people. I trust that you know what to and what not to bring down here from your own sections. But make sure everyone is down here before the sun sets, preferably sooner. If Gally and Newt's suspicions are correct, we'll want to have this door locked as securely as possible, otherwise we're all just sitting ducks." Alby nods to each person, clapping his hands at the end of his speech. "Let's hop to it."

Alby turns and begins making his way back up the stairs, prompting everyone to start following. Newt stands still as others pass, and you both can hear little mumbled sayings along the lines of, 'I can't believe it's finally happening,' and, 'What are we going to do?' Gally glances meaningfully between Newt and you, his arms crossed before he finally takes a step to leave, the last one out of the cellar aside from you and Newt.

Newt finally sighs, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing away as he walks over, plopping himself down right next to you. You reach a hand up and around, rubbing his back in much the same way you did Thomas earlier that day. Not too long ago, actually. "Thank you," You whisper toward him, and he raises his gaze from his hands to your eyes, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"For what?" You shrug. You meant for not giving away your secret, or for trying to save your hide when everyone wanted you punished for running into the maze. But there was more than that, there was so much more.

"For everything," You whisper back, smiling softly as you gaze into his eyes. He softens even more, somehow, and leans forward toward you. He rests his forehead against your own, closing his eyes as if to take in the closeness. You let your eyes fall closed as well.

"You don't need to thank me, [Y/N]. I'd do anything for you."

The Glade was a flurry of movement by the time you and Newt made your way back to the surface, to the Glade proper. Everyone was packing, and talking- confused but doing as they were told. You and Newt, without having to even speak about it, knew where you were going. You let Newt push inside first, following into the Med-Jack hut after him. Clint was in the corner, raising a gaze to glance at the two of you before lowering it once again, helping Chuck to stand and speaking quietly with him. Jeff and Hannah were here as well, packing up everything from the cabinets into multiple different bags. Newt walks past them all toward Thomas, who stands off to the side of one particular cot, the curtains drawn on all sides but his.

"Has she woken up at all?"

"No," Thomas whispers, still staring down at her face. Newt finally gets within reach of him and uses that reach to raise a hand to his arm, touching him gently. Thomas finally turns, flashing a tired smile at Newt before his eyes skip over his shoulder, locking with you. It's the same tired smile as he looks between you and Newt now, then it falls away as he looks back down at Teresa. "I've been waiting, but nothing yet."

"Hopefully she'll wake sometime soon. Everyone is gathering in the cellar." Thomas blinks a few times before looking up at him, a furrow in his brow.

"Everyone?" Newt nods in affirmation, and you take another step forward.

"There's just too many people to expect-"

"Yeah," Thomas interrupts, nodding quickly, his gaze falling back to the bed once more. "I understand."

You bite your lip, and as Newt glances over his shoulder at you, you wince slightly, reaching past him to take hold of Thomas' strong arm. "Tommy, I think we should talk. Somewhere, privately." He laughs humourlessly, shrugging, but not moving away from your touch.

"I think that ship has sailed, [Y/N]. Our 'private' is not so private anymore, is it?" You wince, nodding slowly.

"Sure, but it's important." Thomas swallows roughly, sighing as if he already suspects.

"Everything going on right now is important."

"Tommy," You whisper, and Newt interrupts, leaning in close to Thomas' side.

"I'll watch over her. Go take a walk, Tommy." Thomas sighs, as if defeated with the both of you whispering in his ear, and turns to look at you both in turn. He nods, stepping aside to let Newt take his place, and walks ahead of you toward the exit. As he steps outside into the sun, glancing around before turning right, he begins to speak to you.

"I know what you're going to-" His speech is short-lived as you grab his arm and yank, pulling him into the bushes that run beside the MedJack hut. He shouts out in surprise, hissing in pain as you drag him through the thicket and the bramble, pushing as far as you can into the brush until you push out the other side, nothing around the two of you besides the back wall to the MedJack hut, and the large, imposing stone wall of the Maze. As you turn back to Thomas, his eyes are wide with surprise, and perhaps even fright, and he shakes his head quickly. "What was that for?"

"Privacy," You whisper, glancing around quickly for those blinking bugs. Seeing none, you feel your own tension melt away just slightly, your shoulders lowering down. You meet his eyes again, taking a step closer into his personal space. "Tommy, I'm sorry but Teresa isn't who you remember." His face falls once more, and he looks away from you as best he can with you standing directly in front of him.

"I-I know. I knew you were going to-"

"She works for Wicked."

"I know-"

"She's going to-"

"I know!" Thomas shouts finally, and startled you can't help but take a step back. He takes in a large gulp of air, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. "I know, that's what I've been trying to tell you. I know, she works for Wicked. I know because I worked for Wicked."

"But, Tommy," You begin, raising a hand, and he lets out a sharp, humourless laugh. The gaze he shoots at you pulses a cold pain through your chest.

"Stop calling me that." You swallow roughly, dropping your hand and taking a step back. It hurts, but you have to say it anyway.

"She might seem like she can change, Thomas." You watch him wince, but you continue anyway, "Just like how you changed. But she can't. No- she can. But she won't. She'll pretend up until you think you've won, and then she'll turn on us. She'll betray us, Thomas."

"Don't you think I know that?" Thomas yells- still yelling, even though you haven't raised your voice once. He almost seems startled by the sound of his voice so loud, and he clears his throat and shakes his head. "I know- I-" He huffs again, his eyes falling away from you to the ground. "Shuck it all, I know." He sniffs, raising a hand to wipe his arm across his nose, his eyes shining with tears, and the pain in your stomach twists even more. You want to reach out and comfort, but you're not sure you're allowed to anymore. "After everything you said, the different challenges and difficulties we'll face. I can imagine-" He huffs, lifting his gaze finally to your own. "[Y/N], I'm-"

CRACK, CRASH

The sound of glass breaking, tinkling into a million pieces pulls both of your attentions- toward the back wall of the MedJack hut. You both look back at each other with wide eyes before Thomas springs into action, pushing his way back through the thicket and brush to get back to the front of the hut. You're following right after, hissing with pain as one sharp branch swings backwards and scratches across your cheek. You jerk your head away instinctively but keep pace with Thomas as he finally pushes through, darting left and inside the hut.

"Get away from me!" A female voice is heard yelling, and another crash as something else is thrown before you manage to get inside. You take a few steps into the hut, blinking your eyes to quickly adjust to the darkness, and watch as everyone is pressed against various walls, as far away from Teresa as they can get. Except Thomas, who approaches slowly with his hands up, murmuring something to her quietly. Something about how everything is okay, and that she's safe. You swallow roughly and turn to look at Newt, who is backed up against the wall next to the door, right next to where a gathering of shattered glass littered the floor. He meets your gaze, and immediate concern flashes across his face. He carefully steps his way past the glass, closing in on you.

"Are you okay?" You whisper up at him, scanning along any available piece of skin you can see- face, neck, arms- but you don't see any cuts or blood. That is, until he reaches up, rubbing a thumb across your cheek and pulling back. Red is streaked across his thumb, and you reach that the blood is your own. You huff a laugh, shaking your head gently.

"I should be asking you that."

"Just from a bush, it's fine." His brow furrows in concern, but takes it in stride, nodding. He wipes his hand on a cloth from a nearby counter, staying nearby but turning to watch Thomas try to calm Teresa down like she's some wild animal.

"Did you get to talk to him?" You huff a sigh, shaking your head just barely.

"Not enough," You whisper back, watching Thomas grasp the bars on the end of her bed, talking to her gently. Teresa still looked scared, but she was calming slowly. Hannah and Jeff turn around, resuming their packing- if a bit faster than before. You turn to look toward Clint and Chuck, catching Chuck's eye. He smirks and sends a little wave, and you smile back, nodding toward him. "We need to do everything perfectly here," You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but you hear Newt hum in response. You feel a weight settle onto your shoulders as Newt wraps an arm around you, pulling you in close.

"We'll do the best we can."

#wip: apricity #gender neutral reader #newt x thomas x reader #mutual pining #second person pov #newt x reader #thomas x reader #apricity #wicked #teresa arrives

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 2 months ago

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hi there! i’ve been loving all your jim fics, they’re so good and i just love your writing and how true to character everyone feels! i was wondering if you were ever planning on updating the chocolates and pining fic? i would really love to read more of that story if you’re still interested in writing it!!

I am definitely still interested in writing it! It was actually my first fic I wrote with Jim, and was more of a self-indulgent thing than anything. Then I got distracted writing more one-shots with him than anything. I eventually went back and even rewrote the first two chapters so it would be in the tense I wanted it to be in, so I could continue it easier. I do hope to get to it soon, but I can't promise when!

Thank you for reading!

#serenespeaks #love me some jim #but i have so many wips #still need to update my httyd fic as well #how dare i start another wip on top of everything else lol #ill get there at some point

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 2 months ago

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Hello hello and happy new year :D (let’s ignore how it’s the end of February lmao)

Might I ask when you plan on uploading Apricity’s next chapter? I’ve been reading past chapters religiously and can’t wait for the next update :))

Happy new year my darling ♡ it's so sweet that you've been rereading apricity! Thank you so much for your dedication 🥰 I'm writing it right now, just for you! Hopefully sometime tonight it'll be uploaded, or perhaps tomorrow at the latest. I'm sorry for such a long delay!

#i had this game come out that i become absolutely obsessed with #still am if you couldnt tell by my latest fic #but i really do love apricity so much #i hope to do right by you and everyone with this latest chapter #thankfully it was already partially written so i knew where to pick up from immediately #lets see if i can get this done soon for you #serenespeaks

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 4 months ago

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actualiza la de hiccup por favor😔😔😔😔

Hello! Sorry for the delay in my Hiccup x reader series, I've been meaning to get back to it, but I tend to update, or upload, things that people request most often here lately. The last few one-shots have been requests, and I've been focusing on Apricity since I've gained a pretty consistent following for it. I just haven't had the right engagement to update Hiccup's in awhile.

But thank you for letting me know you're looking forward to it! I'll try to get to it as soon as I'm able! 😊

#serenespeaks

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 4 months ago

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Apricity

[Table of Contents]

CHAPTER TEN, Resultance

Day 33/34, Sunday night / Monday morning

The sun shines brilliantly off of Newt's golden hair, lighting the spot in the field that the man was grazing, pulling weeds and plucking something or other from the tops of the growing crops. He looked peaceful, standing there with a content smile, just going about his day as if farming wasn't the most boring thing in the entire world. The only reason you had even made it through one day was because you had picked play-fights with him, throwing random weeds and clumps of dirt at his apron, trying to make it into his front pocket like it was some sort of game. He had laughed- and by the creators that laugh- and deigned to throw some from his basket right back at you. He'd, of course, had more in his basket than yours. But you could tell he was going slower than normal to begin with, so he wouldn't speed ahead and leave you in his literal dust.

Now, however, you were off work. You were working with Gally now, who was just too sweet no matter what anyone else said. You could see why Ben liked the man, he had a soft spot for people in need, even with his gruff exterior. You let your eyes scan the Glade lazily, looking for Ben through the throng of people. It wasn't until you scanned the whole Glade that you remembered he was a Runner, and his day off didn't coincide with yours. You saw him every time he was off, though. He would always visit Gally and follow him around like a little puppy dog, not working with him but watching him work. Considering Gally said you were 'still in training,' that meant he sat nearby you constantly as well.

You were sitting atop one of the lunch tables, letting your feet dangle off of the side while leaning back on your hands behind you. You suddenly feel the wood under you begin to shake and rattle as someone jumps up onto the table, and you let your head fall backwards to lazily look at Thomas, his upside-down face smiling at you and leaning in awfully close. You can see the sun dance across his eyelashes, making his darker brown eyes alight enough that they seem to melt in swirls- although that could be because your head is rather inverted right now.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" He questions, and you laugh softly as you stare into his mesmerizing earthen eyes. You feel connected, in an odd way- in a way you would've never expected given that you're not from this universe. The thought always sends a jolt of panic through you, but you're tired and languid today, and the thought just coasts away just as easily as the fake, puffy clouds above do.

"You." Your answer is plain and causes a scoff and an eye roll from Thomas.

"I meant, what were you looking at?" You lift your head back up, letting your eyes scan the Glade once more before they, inevitably, land back on Newt. You feel the wood underneath you shimmer and shake, and as you feel a tap on your right upper arm, you casually scoot over enough that Thomas can take a seat next to you, copying your position.

"Newt." Your answer is once again short and to the point. You catch Thomas giving you a quick glance from the corner of your eye, but he turns his head away just as fast before you even begin to consider looking back. Newt bends down, causing the sunlight to glint off of his head at a certain angle, and Thomas raises one hand to block the sun from his eyes before slapping the hand back down once again.

"That all?" Thomas mumbled, though you could hear a hint of something in his voice. You try to parse it out, but the time has passed and he's no longer saying anything else. Plus, you feel really rather tired at the current moment. You've had a long first couple of days of working for Gally, who seems ready to work you to the bone. You'd even thought about just heading over for a day of sleep, but the thought of watching Newt work peacefully felt more compelling at the time.

"He's rather beautiful, isn't he?" Your voice is only a whisper as you say this, and you don't want to turn your head so you try to watch Thomas from the corner of your eye. He doesn't turn either, or act surprised that you had said as much. He almost seems contemplative, tilting his head back and forth before sighing and nodding slowly.

"Yeah."

You don't expect to get anything else out of him, so you finally push yourself up from your straining arms. You turn on the table, lifting one leg on top so you can face Thomas fully. The man looks over at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, and with want of anything else to do, you raise a hand and poke at his muscled arm. "You're a different kind of beautiful, though." You pinch the edge of his sleeve between your fingers, feeling the thin, worn threads and wondering for how long he's been forced to wear this ratty thing. There were little moth-eaten holes along the edges of both his sleeves and the bottom hem, and you wonder whether the creators even care as much about this project anymore. It's been a lot longer than anyone would've expected by this point, you assumed. Especially since this current timeline was nothing like the actual books or movies.

"Yeah?" Thomas repeats himself, though with surprise instead of suppressed longing. You raise your gaze back up to his eyes, letting your hand drop away from his sleeve and land atop his closest hand. You feel his rough skin under your touch, letting your fingers gently graze along his scars and calluses. You nod slowly, staring into his now shadowed eyes as he tilts his head downward toward you- and you only just realize he's beginning to lean in closer.

"Tommy," You begin, feeling the name like a weight on your tongue, like something only one person should be able to say yet here you were, copying Newt when it comes to Thomas, and copying Thomas when it comes to Newt. Who were you to get in the middle of them? "Do you think…" You trail off, letting your eyes unfocus and see through Thomas, your smile settling and numbing into a neutral expression on your face. "Do you think you could find yourself, find love, when you get out of here?" You blink yourself back into reality- this reality, anyway- and let your eyes meet with his confused ones. "Do you think you could let yourself?"

"What," Thomas leans forward even more, taking his free hand from the other side of him and pushing himself onto his side to face you, moving the hand to cup your cheek. "What do you mean? Let myself?" You bite your lip as you stare into his befuddled expression, leaning ever-so-slightly into his hand.

"Tommy," Your whisper is even quieter now, but you can tell he can still hear you. If anything, the way he's so intensely focused on your lips could prove that he'd read them if the sound didn't quite reach his ears. "Let yourself fall. Let yourself have him. It'll make everything so much easier if you have someone to lean on." You raise your hand from its resting place on his own, brushing your fingers through his hair and trying to straighten it into something resembling order, although it was a fool's errand. "You're not alone. In here, or out there."

Thomas drops his hand suddenly, as if burned by your words. You watch him swallow roughly, then turn away and retake his leaned-back position, staring off into space. You continue your light grooming, brushing your fingers through his messy hair and combing it back out of his face. You figured if he wanted you to stop, he'd say so or stop your hand, so you continue on. It wasn't just calming for you, you come to realize, as his shoulders slowly fall from around his neck.

"You know what I did, don't you?" Thomas glances at you for a moment, but it seems like looking at you is too painful so he turns his gaze away once again, downcast.

"You didn't do anything they didn't force you to do."

"How could you even know that?"

You're silent for a few beats, waiting for him to realize. As he sucks in a breath, you believe he remembers your quiet talk from not too long ago, when you had told him you knew of Wicked. He blows his breath back out slowly, raising his shining gaze toward you. You drop your hand from his hair, rubbing a thumb across his cheek and swiping a tear away before anyone else can see it. You lean in close, wrapping your arms around him in a much-needed hug, turning your head to whisper into his ear.

"You're deserving of love, Tommy."

There's talking around you… Quiet whispers, like they're trying to be polite and maintain the status quo so you can stay restful. But- no, you can't. You can't quite remember why, but you need to get up. You need to be up, and- and running. You need to get away, it's not safe, it's not safe-

You groan, and finally something has happened. It's like you're trapped in your own body, but you're slowly gaining your senses back, your facilities back. You try to move your fingers, curl them into a ball, but it's hard. It's getting easier. You groan again, this time aloud, apparently.

“I get that you don’t wanna sleep, but you don’t have to make all that racket, Tommy.”

You try to wiggle your toes, and you feel that tingling sensation that comes when you've sat on your foot for too long and it needs to reawaken itself. You try to wince from the feeling but your face doesn't want to work. You're starting to get annoyed- this is your body, you should be able to move it. That's when it finally registers in your brain, the sound that you'd heard were words. They were Newt's words, Newt's voice- that meant he was here. You needed to see him, why was he in the maze?

"That wasn't me."

The maze! That's right, what happened in the maze? You groan again as images flood your mind's eyes, flashing too fast for you to comprehend, though you don't need to. You lived through it all, you remember. It's too much all at once, and you raise your arm, moving your hand to your face to rub your eyes roughly. When that doesn't stop the images, you open them slowly, blearily. You rest your elbow on the cot and begin to push yourself up to a lean, heavily enough on one side that you drop the other arm back down, leaning then on both elbows. You blink a few times, then look at your surroundings.

You were in the Medjack's hut- that much was for certain, you could tell that even in the dead of night. You'd been here before when it was just as dark before, though with different company. This time, however, your eyes land on Newt, sitting to your left in a rickety, can't-be-comfortable chair, a large book spread across a leg that was draped over the other's knee. His mouth was agape, his eyes hopeful, and it felt like too many emotions to deal with all at once. To your right, on top of another cot but sitting straight up as if ready to spring into action, was Thomas. He looked just as surprised, though not quite as hopeful. He almost looked… Angry? You glance back at Newt one last time before dropping your gaze to your lap, feeling ashamed.

"Sorry…"

"For what?"

"You better be."

They both spoke at the same time, though what surprised you the most was that it was Newt's voice indicating that you should be sorry. Thomas, with his angered expression, didn't seem to understand what you were apologizing for. You keep your eyes lowered as you hear Thomas begin to stammer, likely since Newt shot him a quick glare for his words. "I- I mean," Thomas starts, then just never finishes his sentence. You look up slowly, watching the boys stare at each other as if silently communicating something, before Newt slams his textbook closed, turning his full attention to you. He stands, walking closer to the head of your bed, laying the book down on your nightstand and leaning just slightly over the bed to get a better look at you.

"Are you alright?" You weren't quite expecting those words, at least not so soon following his last ones, and you struggled to keep up with where his mind might be at. You blink a few times, then take a deep breath and look down at your body. You wiggle your toes, watching them move, and raise a hand to feel at your stomach. Nothing hurts- not even your ankle, which you would've assumed would be even worse off than when you first injured it. Confused, you look back up to Newt.

"I- I think so."

"Good," Newt begins, then slaps the side of your arm roughly. You flinch away, staring up at him incredulously. You could hear aggravated cot springs to your right, and you figured Thomas was getting up to get closer to the both of you, but you didn't dare take your eyes off of Newt right now. He looked murderous. "How dare you do something like that to us! How- How dare you just run off into the maze without so much as a good-bye, and then-" He swallows, and you can hear the emotion in his voice, the tinge of anger and sadness and anxiety that you know you put there yourself. "And leave this- this stupid, bloody, shucking letter-" He pulls a square from his pocket, flinging it back and forth as if to unravel it quickly before throwing it down with force onto your bed. It was just a lightweight piece of parchment, however, so it didn't land with even a fraction of the force he used to throw it down with. He places both hands down on your cot, leaning over it and breathing heavily. "Saying you- what, you'd rather die than spend another day in the Glade with us?"

"No," You're quick to defend, shaking your head and widening your eyes, and you can feel tears spring to them but you try to blink them back. This isn't about your feelings, you did this to them- to him. What you feel doesn't matter right now. "No, of course not. I just couldn't bear another second of knowing how to get out of this stupid fucking hell-hole, watching you day by day just give up more and more. I know how to get you out, Newt. I wanted to help!"

"I don't want out if it's not with you!" He yells, and you suck in a breath, the tears blurring your vision until you blink them away, feeling the trails of warmth flow down your cheeks. Thomas has finally made his way around your cot at this point, encircling Newt's shoulders with one arm and pulling him in against his chest. Newt coughs out a sob, turning and burying his face into Thomas' chest. You can feel yourself gaping, your mouth opening and closing like a poor imitation of a fish on land, and you meet Thomas' eyes now that you can no longer see Newt's. He's not angry any longer, you can see in his eyes, but there are questions there that you know you'll have to answer at some point. Whether he's told Newt about Wicked or not- that'll be the deciding factor of whether it's now or later.

"Newt," You whisper, after waiting for his cries to quiet. When he doesn't turn, you can feel your heart twisting and ripping in your chest. "Newt, please." He slowly pulls away from Thomas, and you can see him raise his head enough- and in turn Thomas turns his gaze away from you finally- and their locked eyes must give him enough strength to carry on. He raises a hand to rub roughly at his face, wiping away his own tears before he finally turns back around to face you. He sighs out slowly, then lets his gaze travel over your form before resting on your face once again. He isn't meeting your eyes, rather letting his own eyes rest on your lips, but he reaches out and takes one of your hands into his own.

"Tell me your story, [Y/N]."

You bite your lip, glancing at Thomas and then around the room in search of something. In search of that blinking red light that revealed that Wicked was watching. Except- it's been so long now, hasn't it? They could've developed who-knows-what at this point, they could be watching right now. Was it safe to talk about? Would it ever be safe to talk about? You let your gaze wander back to Newt with a wince, then glance over to Thomas as if pleading with him to understand. Somehow, you think he does. He reaches forward, placing a hand on his forearm and leaning in even closer.

"Newt, I don't know if now is the time."

"Now is most certainly the time, Tommy. I'm not waiting another moment."

"You-" He stutters as Newt turns a sharp glare onto him, but presses forward regardless. "You might need to wait just one more moment. Long enough for us to know that they aren't listening." Newt's face relaxes in understanding, turning back to look at you with an appraising look. Thomas turns to look at you as well, and the way they both stare at you soothes the ache that had been there not but a moment before. Like you were their whole world, just laying there on a medical cot.

"Is there anywhere we could do that?"

It's silent again between the three of you, and you wrack your brain for something- anything. And that's when it finally hits you. It might be a long shot, but as far as you knew Gally hadn't told hardly anyone else about that spot.

"I think I know a place."

You move to get up, pulling the blanket aside and tossing your legs over the left side of your bed. You sit there for a moment, dizziness overtaking you, and you watch Newt reach forward as if to catch you when you wobble unsteadily. You blink a few times, waiting for your vision to return fully before glancing upward. Newt and Thomas took a few steps to the side, as if to give you space to stand, though before you have a chance your hand slips when your gaze lands on another body.

It could only be Chuck, with that body shape under the blanket, and that head of hair at the top. You swallow roughly, turning your head first toward the boys before letting your eyes finally separate from Chuck. You look at them questioningly, and Newt nods, Thomas speaking up quietly.

"He's alright. He woke up earlier, during the day. He's just resting more now, but he's perfectly fine. Something in that blue serum healed him- both of you, it seems, completely." You nod slowly, trying to ingrain his words into your mind so you can calm the worry that spiked from seeing him- from remembering. You push yourself to a stand, and you feel a hand on your shoulder from Newt, and another hand on your waist from Thomas who reaches past Newt to help as well. You can't help the smile that comes to your face from their attempt to help, and you want to lean into them but you need to see for yourself.

You take a step away from their grasp, closer to Chuck's cot. You let yourself lean against it, leaning over Chuck's sleeping body to take a peek at his face. It's covered by his mounds of curled hair, so you reach over and gently pull it to the side. His face is peaceful at rest, something you've always found comforting every time you catch him napping during the day on his days off. You study his sleeping face for a few more moments, watching as his body rises and falls from his breath, before letting his hair drop right back out of your grasp. You turn toward the boys, giving them a soft but guilty smile. "Alright. I'm ready."

It was rather easy to find Gally's secret little hide-away bunker, considering it was at the very corner of the Glade inside the Deadheads. As you circle around what looks to be just a little hill, you come across the flat metal doors of the bunker you knew would be there. It's tied together by some sort of hempen rope, likely just to keep the door closed as it's not very hard to pull the rope out from between the handles. Gally was probably worried if he ever locked it then it would practically become useless when the time came. You drop the rope to the ground, taking one last look around.

You'd been keeping an eye out this whole time, and you thought at one point you saw a blinking flash of red, but it sped in the direction of the Medjack hut, and you hoped that Wicked was too tired and oblivious to notice the three of you heading into the woods. It didn't seem like the rest of the Glade noticed, anyway, considering the majority of them were asleep under their little overhang across the way. You don't notice any more blinking red lights, and your eyes land on Thomas who seems to be doing the same sort of sweep. Once his eyes land on you, and you receive a nod in affirmation that he didn't spot anything either, you pull open the doors and make your way down into the dark hole. While you still had enough light bouncing off of the giant walls into the hole, you located where Gally put the matches and lit a small lantern, just in time for Thomas to close the doors behind the three of you.

You hang the lantern along one of the ropes covering the ceiling, letting it sway above the three of you as you take a seat on a random box nearby. You only realize after you sit that it's the same box you had sat on before, back when Gally had shown you to this spot and became surprisingly vulnerable with you. You shake the memory away, looking up as Newt gingerly takes a seat, sitting on the edge of a box like he's ready to jump up at any moment, but also like he's trying to give you space to be able to speak freely. Thomas, predictably, is too restless to sit, but he does take a few steps away so he's not pacing between the two of you.

"Alright, so…" You begin, but you're not quite sure where to start. Luckily, Newt seems to pick up on that, and he digs out a square piece of folded parchment from his pocket- the letter he had thrown at you not too long ago. You must've missed when he picked it right back up and pocketed it once again. Thomas must've as well, from the surprised look he dons.

"Let's start with this." He tosses it onto the ground between you, and you bite your lip. Truthfully, you barely remember what you even wrote, considering you were in a rush to get it all out before the doors started to close. You blink down at it, then raise your gaze back up to Newt. He gestures toward it with a sigh. "You go ahead and read it, take it step by step. You don't have to read it aloud, I've memorized the words by now." That takes you by surprise, but you heed his advice and push yourself from the box you sit on just long enough to stretch and snatch it from the dirt-covered ground, brushing the stray pieces from the worn parchment. You glance back up at him, slowly unravelling it with a question on your lips.

"How long, exactly, was I out for?"

"Just an extra day. We found you the morning after you entered the maze, injected you with the serum almost immediately- as soon as Clint realized what you'd done to Chuck. Then it was all day and- well, partly into the night until you woke up." Thomas was the one who answered, still pacing back and forth while recounting the story as if in a daze. You swallow, then nod slowly. You finish spreading the paper out in front of you, looking down at the hastily scribbled words on the paper.

'If you're reading this, then I'm dead.'

So much for that. You continue reading, then take a long breath as you try to compose what you would like to say in your head. They're patient- as patient as they can be when their entire life is on the line. Thomas continues to pace, and Newt just stares at the empty ground between you where the letter once lay. The first thing that comes to mind, though, starts with the second paragraph…

"I'm sorry I lied to you, Tommy."

He freezes in his steps, and as you glance over to watch him, you can see Newt react similarly in his seat. He freezes, then slowly looks up and looks between the two of you. You wait for Thomas to do something, to say something, but he stands there as if you've just given him grave news. Eventually, when it seems as if you won't elaborate, he sighs and roughly rubs his face with his hands. He turns toward you, crossing his arms with a stern expression. "For lying about working for them?"

"I never once said I worked for them," You counter, raising a hand. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I explicitly said I did not work for them." You watch as Thomas freezes, then pulls his brows together like he's trying to remember your conversation. He hesitates, slowly uncrossing his arms.

"You… You did say that, but…" He hesitates, then huffs a disapproving breath, shaking his head. "But how could you know so much without working for them? Surely you remember by now?"

"I-" You swallow roughly, then glance down. "That's what I'm sorry about. I lied about how I remember so much. I knew, at the time. It was just…" You close your eyes, then squeeze them together, raising your fists to cover them. "The truth sounds more far-fetched than working for Wicked, trust me."

"Wicked?" Newt questions, and as you release your hold on your eyes you finally let yourself look at him. He looks confused, and pissed off for being confused, and both you and Thomas realize at the same time that you should be including him in this. In all of it. It's Thomas who speaks first, clarifying.

"The creators. They're a- a company? Named Wicked. The letters that come up on the box, W C K D. It's an abbreviation for Wicked." Newt swallows roughly, then waves a hand as if messily saying to carry on. You turn your attention back toward Thomas, though it seems as though he's lost his fight now, moving to take a seat on a box near Newt, across from you. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and takes a deep breath before looking up at you. "Fine. I understand you think it's not going to be believable. But starting with that is enough. You tell us the truth, and no matter what it is, we'll believe you."

You blink a few times, then wonder if he really means that. And you mean really means that, after he hears what you have to say. You didn't write it in your letter, technically. You'd hinted at it, sure, but the reality of the truth is so much heavier, so much harder to accept. You bite your lip, looking between the two boys you realize you have fallen in love with, and wonder how exactly they'll react. Perhaps they'll find you so unbelievable that they won't just leave you forever, but completely ignore your valid way of escaping out of this place. Although… Maybe they shouldn't leave… Nothing else could happen if they stay here, if they continue to live in this place that supplies them fresh food and water, that keeps them safe from the sickness.

But that's not fair, for you to choose for them.

"I think the easiest way to explain it- is that I'm from another universe." You give it a second, waiting for them to interrupt or berate you, to ask you to tell the truth. After they just stare at you, waiting for you to continue on and explain what you mean, you begin to feel a warmth fill your chest. It seems as if, for now, they're willing to believe whatever it is you say. "Everything here, all of this. You, both of you-" You hesitate at this part, taking a long breath in before blowing it back out, nodding. "This is all just a book series to me. Or- was. It all was a book series, until I woke up in that elevator."

"Did you remember everything right away?" Newt questions, his expression open and not-disbelieving. You blink for a moment, taken aback by his specific question, considering any other he could be asking. But, you assure yourself, if he's asking questions like this then that means he believes you- or at least, is trying to.

"Not right away. And," You glance between the both of them with a smile, "Not when I remembered my name either. It came slowly, over time. Dreams, and memories hit me out of nowhere. I didn't know what was happening at first until I had a dream, I think about a week in?"

"Oh," Thomas interrupts, sitting up straighter with a thoughtful look. "I- I think I remember that one. You had said something like," He huffs out a breath, staring unseeing at the ground as he tries to remember. "You asked me why I was still here? That I was supposed to get out by now?" You nod along, then tilt your head back and forth in contemplation before sighing.

"I think it was the night after that one, actually. That had been a flashback, a memory of the books but it hadn't been what alerted me to my situation. The next night, I woke up from a weird dream and knew then. But no one else had been up, and I took a little walk around." You sigh once again, shaking your head. "Not the point."

"What did you mean, then? If you remember?" Newt asks, unmoving from his current lean forward, his elbows on his knees as he studies you, hands clasped together. "When you asked Tommy why he was still here?" You suck in a breath, nodding.

"Yeah, so, that's the thing. This is all pretty reminiscent of that book series, but it's not quite the same. In the books," You nod toward Thomas, growing worried about how he might react to this information. "When Tommy got sent up, he was pretty quickly after attacked by Ben."

"Ben?" Thomas questions, and you can understand the confusion between both boys. You nod along, taking a deep breath.

"So, Ben had been stung in the maze. No one knew how it had happened, or why. But he ended up- well, going crazy." The two of them nod, sharing glances as if they knew exactly what you were talking about. You supposed they would, at this point. "So, when he attacked you- and no one knew how to cure it- well…"

"He was banished." Newt completes your sentence as if this was obvious, nodding along. Thomas shuffles in his seat restlessly, leaning back and raising a hand to run it through his hair roughly. It's pretty obvious he doesn't enjoy this story so far, but you doubt he'd enjoy any of it, to be honest.

"Yeah. That kinda kick-started the whole thing." The boys look confused, so you continue without prompting. "Alby and Minho went to go check around the maze, and they thought they came across a dead Griever. Apparently, it had only pretended to be dead, and stung Alby." You watched as Thomas leaned forward again quickly, paying close attention. "They escaped it, somehow, and Minho was helping Alby get back to the Glade but they were running late. They weren't going to make it. So," You look over to him, nodding, "Tommy ran in."

"Of course he would," Newt mutters under his breath, leaning back finally and slumping his shoulders in defeat.

"The three of them got locked in the maze at night. That's how Tommy was able to kill a Griever for the first time. It was-" You stare off into space, images of your night in the maze flashing before your eyes. "You just use the maze against them. Let the stone crush them, or trick them into jumping off the edge of a cliff. Things like that."

"That's what you did, then?" Thomas asks, and you finally come to, looking up to meet his stern gaze. You nod again, agreeing, and watch him sigh out slowly.

"After you all escaped the maze and gave Alby the Grief serum-"

"The what?" Newt interrupts, his brows furrowing.

"The blue serum, the one that I gave Chuck?"

"Grief serum," Newt mutters to himself again, then takes a deep breath and nods to indicate you can continue.

"Minho and Tommy went back in. Found the dead Griever, pulled the stinger out-" You hesitate here, then look at them sharply. "Wait, where's my backpack? It had the stinger in there, right?" Newt nods, but Thomas is the one who speaks up with exhaustion.

"Minho took the bag, and the stinger. We read the letter out to him, so he began trying to solve that puzzle you mentioned immediately." You nod along, letting out a breath of relief.

"Good, that's good." You look back down at the letter, scanning it quickly to see if you were forgetting anything. You reach the bottom of the page, swallowing roughly at what you had written there. As if reading your thoughts, Newt's calm voice speaks up once again.

"There's still a few more questions I have about that letter." You nod, already knowing what he might ask. You hear it anyway; "Why did you warn us about Gally? To take the shot?" An ache begins in your chest, having written out that they shouldn't trust him. He's obviously different now than in the books… Was that Ben's doing? Was his exile the reason Gally had become so hard and distant in the books?

"I don't know why I wrote that," You whisper, but Newt interrupts just as quickly.

"We need to know, [Y/N]."

"In the books," You take a deep breath, placing the letter to your side on the box, looking back up at them with a guilty expression. "Look, you have to keep in mind that Ben was exiled, Tommy was made a runner almost immediately; his entire world was falling apart."

"[Y/N],"

"Gally didn't want to leave the Glade," You begin, letting your eyes fall back to the ground so you can try and remember things fully. "He tried to stay, and tried to convince others to stay with him. He was pretty successful, about half of what remained of the Glade stayed. But, they were all killed when the Grievers attacked again. At this point, the doors weren't closing at night-" You stop, raising your hands to rub your face roughly. "I don't know how I'm going to explain everything to you, it's all such a mess."

"It's okay," Thomas murmurs, his voice trying to be gentle. "Just try."

"Wicked didn't like that you found the stringer, or perhaps just didn't like that you were in the maze at all, Tommy. They sent Teresa in, said she was the last one ever. This wasn't but a week or two after you came up. After she was up, the doors stopped closing. It was a race to the exit, otherwise everyone would die at night when the Grievers attacked. Alby sacrificed himself that first night so that you all could survive." You let out a breath, raising your eyes to them. They were both understandably horrified, and you shrug with a humourless laugh. "I guess Gally making this bunker would've worked out better back then."

"And Gally still wanted to stay? After the doors didn't close?"

"He thought we'd- well, you had angered the 'creator's, and wanted to sacrifice Tommy to the maze. But he had too many friends, and a good bit of Gladers, including you, Newt, helped him out of his binds and escaped into the maze to leave. Some came with, some stayed behind with Gally." You sighed, leaning your head back on your shoulders. "So, Gladers that stayed behind died, Gally chased after you all. He had been stung, I think? Either that, or he was losing everything and had nothing left. He was pointing a gun at Tommy, trying to hold him accountable for everything that happened."

"I wouldn't blame him," Thomas muttered under his breath, which caused both you and Newt to look at him sharply. Newt spoke up before you could, however.

"Don't say that." He lets out a slow breath, waiting for Thomas to meet his eyes before continuing. "Do not start blaming yourself for something that never even happened." Thomas blinks a few times, as if coming to this realization. This really hadn't happened, not in this timeline anyway. After Thomas takes another deep, calming breath, they both nod and turn their attention back to you.

"He shot the gun," You immediately say, watching Thomas flinch. This next part, even just the thought, hurts you to say. "But, Chuck jumped in front."

"That's why you said protect Chuck," Newt mutters once more, and you nod.

"He killed him. Chuck died trying to protect Tommy, and I just… I couldn't have that happen again." You let your eyes fall from them, staring at that spot on the ground once again that you've become so accustomed to so far through this conversation. "I said not to hesitate so maybe Chuck wouldn't get hurt. There's a spear, I think? Maybe- maybe Minho threw it? I can't quite remember, but it pierced Gally and everyone thought he was dead."

"Thought?" Newt asks softly, and you scoff out a laugh, shaking your head.

"That turns into a long story. But no, he didn't die." It's quiet again, and you don't quite blame them. It's a lot to take in, but even just trying to remember what happened in the books is getting harder and harder as you live through this life. You think perhaps they're trying to reconcile what you know versus what has actually happened in their lives. Maybe they were trying to figure out what happened along the way to stop all of these events from occurring. You knew you had always wondered, this whole time. It's a few minutes before Newt finally breaks the silence, his voice tired and grave.

"So why did you say Tommy is the cure?"

#newt x thomas x reader #wip: apricity #mutual pining #explanations #x reader fanfiction #multichaptered fic #newt x reader #thomas x reader #second pov

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I wanted to ask you if you could do Eddie munson x transmasc reader?

I asked a writer that I like on Tumblr to write something like this but they said they couldn't but someone recommended your blog in the comments saying that your writing was awesome!

wish you a good day <3

Hello Anon ♡ I don't know if you're still around. My friend recommended you send this is like months and months ago (half a year ago at this point?) and you were referred from a different blog so I doubt you even follow me.

I completely meant to do this. I even wrote a good majority of the fic before I ended up stopping/forgetting. And now every time I see this ask in my inbox I get flooded with so much guilt.

Pls tell me if you're still there? Do you still want this? I'm so sorry

#serenespeaks #eddie munson x reader

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 4 months ago

Text

New Year's Surprise

Jim Halpert x gn!Reader

Summary: A revelation strikes at the worst time ever- right before the exciting New Year's party that no one in the office can stop talking about. However, a little plan or two might turn this into a night to remember.

A/N: No warnings for this one! I took a few days to write it, I hope the ending doesn't seem rushed! This is definitely a little smaller than the last few works of mine, but I hope you all enjoy!

[Find my xReader Masterlist here!]

You weren't sure what started this line of thinking- that maybe Michael had said something to spark the first thought, or perhaps Dwight with his over-enthusiastic sharing of his theories and thought processes. Whatever it was, you were taken so aback by the sudden thought- and the following realisation- that it completely threw you off your game for the rest of the day. At least it had been after lunch, so there were only a few hours left of the day anyway. Practically over. Practically.

"Hey," A tap on your desk from a pencil disturbs your thoughts, causing you to jump, turning your gaze to your left where Jim has his hand extended toward you, pencil in hand to lengthen his reach. His small smile grows larger with mirth as you suddenly realize you're staring at him with wide eyes. You clear your throat, blinking a few times to reset your eyelids, shoving a smile on although you realize it's too late to save yourself.

"Yes?" You whisper over, throwing a glance toward Dwight who seems to shift in annoyance to the sound of your voice. You roll your eyes, looking back toward Jim. He's still smiling with mirth, though he takes his pencil back and begins to spin it with both hands.

"You seemed zoned out, just wanted to make sure you were okay. You never jump like that, what's up?" You can see him trying to play it off, the concern that he feels for you. You suck in a breath, repeating inside your head, 'Just friends, just friends...'

"Yeah," You respond a beat too late, forcing an awkward laugh and shaking your head, looking away from his intoxicating gaze. You try to focus your attention on your work, and when that doesn't happen you just let yourself look like you are. After another short moment there are a few more taps from his pencil, and you glance over at him with a small questioning smile.

"What are you thinking about?" Jim whispers over, a small matching smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He was still worried.

"Really Jim?" Dwight scoffs loudly, interrupting the entire office as you watch them shuffle in their chairs, looking annoyed. "You are going to start up a personal conversation on company time?" Jim leans back slowly as he speaks, blowing a raspberry and glancing at Dwight with a side-eye. "Stop flirting with your coworker and get back to work." Dwight scoffs again, lowering his gaze to the two papers he's holding outward and looking between, as if playing a 'find the difference' game.

Jim sighs, softly and not to make a show of it, but just privately to himself. He sits back up, shooting you one last smile before turning back to his computer. You turn away, swallowing roughly around a sudden lump in your throat. 'Stop flirting,' He had said, as if Jim would ever do such a thing. Although now that you think on it, that saying had been a commonplace occurrence for as long as you'd worked here, which was less than a year but still a rather long time.

He said it often enough, and you'd always just scoffed it off and moved on. As if it had meant nothing. Was he telling the truth this whole time? You remembered Jim putting up more of a fight about it in the beginning, as if defending himself or his actions, or maybe trying to make sure you were comfortable. But you hadn't minded it back then when you were so sure that nothing of the sort was happening, and it didn't matter. Except, it matters now. It matters a lot.

How did you not know you were in love with Jim Halpert?

Just one more hour left and you could go home and have a proper freak-out about it before deciding what it was you planned to do. You clicked a few times on your computer, acting as if you knew what you were doing while lost in thought. A door opening catches your attention from the corner of your eye, and you watch the party planning committee walk out of the conference room, all in varying states of annoyance or exhaustion. Pam and Phyllis both walk in your direction, Pam heading behind you to her desk as Phyllis stops next to Jim's desk, facing you.

"Hey," You turn in your chair to face her better with a questioning look, watching as she tries to turn her attention to your entire desk group, involving Jim and Dwight, but mostly focusing back on you. "You all are planning to come to the party tonight, right?"

You freeze in place, eyes widening as you glance toward Jim and back to her. Even from your quick glance, you notice Jim freeze similarly and wonder if it was because he had forgotten as well. His hand was frozen from its usual tapping, although he kept his attention focused on his computer, his head resting in his other hand. You could see Dwight turn his attention behind him from the corner of your eye before facing Phyllis again and scoffing.

"Yes," Dwight answers with a huff, shaking his head, "But not because of you Phyllis. Duh." Phyllis just rolls her eyes, keeping her attention on you. You hear more than see Dwight push himself to a stand, his rolling chair creaking as he does so, before he wanders off toward the break room area. You take in a breath, turning your attention down toward your desk.

"Oh, I don't know," You begin, and three different people begin to speak simultaneously:

"Well, why not? Perhaps I could help in some way-" Was Phyllis' response, very calm and matter-of-fact, pressing a hand to your shoulder to try to gain your attention.

"What!" Was screamed from behind you before Pam scurries up to your right side, grasping your other arm firmly. "You have to come! I've just spent all day putting up with Angela for this!"

"You're not going?" Jim's voice had said, underneath the din of the other two. You turn your attention to him through the noise, watching as a disappointed expression is quickly dropped away at your look for a more neutral expression. You watch him swallow roughly, though he's unable to draw his eyes away from you.

You had completely forgotten about the New Year's party in your sudden revelation. You just need time to figure things out still, right? Except, it's pretty obvious you have feelings for him. That's not going to go away with just one night's rest. Even staring at him now, the image of that disappointment was burned into your memory. You could see him slowly leaning back as if he'd given up on something important to him. Was he wanting to spend the night with you? Had he a prank planned he wanted you involved in? Whatever the reason…

"Uh- I mean," You glance up toward Phyllis, then to your other side to smile at Pam. "If it's that important to you all, then sure." Phyllis smiles smugly, patting your arm before turning to walk away, patting Jim's shoulder in turn. At the same time, Pam loosened her grip drastically on your arm, and you turned your attention back to her. She sighs, letting go fully before play-slapping your arm.

"Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry," You huff a laugh, shrugging. "I just forgot about the party." She continues to stare at you, then slowly narrows her eyes. You scramble, you're unsure why, to come up with a different excuse. "And I'm just really tired, honestly. I was looking forward to collapsing in bed." She huffs a sigh, shaking her head.

"Well, the amount of bullshit I had to put up with from Angela to make this a night to remember-" She continues to mumble to herself as she walks away, moving back to the receptionist desk behind you. You slowly turn your attention back to your computer screen, the useless form up on the screen flashing with the edit symbol to appear as though you were working still flickering on the old monitor.

Tap tap tap

You look back to the left, smiling with mirth at Jim's once-again extended arm, pencil in hand to elongate an otherwise already long-enough reach. He smiles slowly back, but the worry is etched on his face like it was not too long ago when he did the same thing.

"If you're tired you can go home, you know. Don't let them pressure you into staying." Warmth fills your chest from his words, even the tone of his voice making it evident he cares about you and your health. You move your hand from your keyboard and rest it against his hand next to you, squeezing and feeling his skin underneath yours. You take in a slow breath, feeling more feelings than you know what to do with just from the touch of his hand. How had you not known you liked him before?

"It's okay, Jim. I'm sure I'll wake up more as I'm up and moving around." Jim drops the pencil in his hand, turning it over to grasp yours back, rubbing a thumb against the underside of your wrist. You watch him swallow roughly and nod, and he's just about to pull his hand away as you tighten your grip, leaning in. He doesn't need to lean in any further, already practically hanging over his desk already. "Was there something planned, though?"

Jim's eyes widen in- what you could only call fright. You worry for a moment before he coughs out a laugh, forcing a smile on his face. "What? Planned- like what?" You shake your head in confusion, a small amused smile on your own face.

"Like… a prank? You seemed disappointed when I said I wouldn't go. I thought maybe-?"

"Oh!" He huffs a relieved laugh, nodding quickly and fidgeting his fingers under your hand. "Yeah! Yeah, absolutely, I just-" He glances around quickly, smirking at you playfully. "We can't talk about it here though, you know? Don't want anybody to overhear."

"Oh, of course," You mumble with a laugh, finally leaning back and reluctantly taking your hand out of his hold. You shoot him a conspiratorial wink, turning your attention back toward your computer so you can begin to berate yourself in your mind. 'A wink? Really?'

You glance up at the clock in time to see Dwight exiting the break room rather suspiciously, glancing to and fro, followed shortly thereafter by Angela. You raise an eyebrow but don't deign to say anything, instead taking the chance to notice the time left before the end of the shift. Although, you suppose watching the clock doesn't really matter anymore since you already agreed to go to the party after work. At least you'd have time to go home and get dressed up before returning. Maybe then you'd have time to have a proper freak-out.

You notice, right then as you're staring into space having these thoughts, that Phyllis and Angela are gathering their things as if done for the day. You spin around in your chair quickly, noticing Pam packing up and slinging her jacket over her shoulder. Panic spikes in your chest- you thought you'd have more time to single her out for a much-needed conversation- before the adrenaline pushes you out of your chair and toward the receptionist's desk. She looks up with a question in her eyes but a smile on her lips and you breathe out slowly, glancing behind you to make sure Jim isn't paying attention before leaning in toward her.

"Pam, just a second. I need to talk to you, if you have time." You fidget with your hands, picking at your nails as you resist the urge to look behind yourself once again. Pam seems to do it for you, glancing over your shoulder at who could only be Jim, then back at you, her smile softening.

"Well, I really need to get started decorating, we have a lot-"

"I figured something out, and I really need to talk about it." Pam huffs a soft laugh, shaking her head as she moves her bag to her other hand, shuffling her feet. Angela calls out to her angrily as she passes by, asking her if she's coming and Pam waves her off, turning toward you.

"Alright, but quick. What is it you figured out?" You glance around once more before circling her desk to take her arm, dragging her out of the double doors behind Angela and Phyllis. You'd expected to see the both of them there, but they weren't anywhere to be found. You furrow your brow and look around again, but Pam's voice speaks up, "They're going up to the roof to start setting up. That's where the party is being held."

"Oh," You hesitate, glancing at the door to the stairs before sighing again, facing Pam with a grave expression. "It's about Jim." Suddenly the content look in Pam's eyes vanishes, and she becomes extremely serious, leaning toward you with a look you can't quite comprehend in her eyes.

"What, uh," She huffs out a laugh as if trying to minimize the seriousness of this conversation, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "What did you find out about Jim?" You stare at her for a few beats too long- you know you should really let her go set up for the party, especially after she said she fought with Angela about it all- but it was taking all of your strength just to say it all aloud.

"I just," Your mouth opens and closes, huffing out a small sigh and trying again, "I think I might be in love with Jim." You stare at her, willing her to do or say something that isn't just a burst of laughter or 'give up,' but she does none of the sort. She continues to just stand there, staring back at you with a serious expression. Eventually, just lowers her eyes, then gently, as if coaxing a wild animal, places her hand on your forearm.

"And," She looks back upward, meeting your eyes, "What are you going to do about it?" You blink a few times, startled.

"I- I don't know," You huff out, exasperated. "Pine for two years?" She huffs out a laugh, rolling her eyes. She mumbles something under her breath but you don't quite hear it, furrowing your brow and leaning in further. You could've sworn you heard something like 'made for each other,' but that didn't make any sense. "What was that?" She tightens her grip on your arm, pulling you even closer in.

"Look," She studies your eyes for a moment, as if making sure you're paying attention even though you wouldn't dare to look away. "This might be a revelation for you, but it's not for me. You've been pretty obvious in your affection for him-" You open your mouth to interrupt, but she gives you a sharp glare so you think better of it, "And at this point, there's nothing to lose." It takes you a moment to understand what she's saying, then you can feel your eyes bug out as you widen them in fright.

"You mean, tell him?"

"Yes," Pam answers matter-of-fact, letting go of your arm and hoisting her bag up onto her shoulder. "Tell him." You stand there gaping once again, and she sighs, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Go home after work, have a freak-out or whatever you need to do, then get dressed up for the party. Once you're ready, come back here, and let him know how you feel. What's the worst that could happen?"

"The- the worst?" You scoff, shaking your head, "He tells me he not only doesn't feel the same way, but I make it so awkward he has to transfer out of the branch and I never see him again!" Pam scoffs, shaking her head with a laugh and a flick of her wrist.

"That would never happen."

"Pam!"

"Just-" She huffs, taking a look behind her at the doorway to the stairwell, then back to you with an expression that shows she's in a hurry. "Maybe you don't have to go so far as to say you're in love with him. Maybe…" She looks off into space, then slowly smiles as if coming up with a brilliant plan. She looks back up toward you, nodding. "How about a kiss at midnight? If he doesn't feel the same way, you can play it off as just a kiss between friends on New Year's. And if he does, then you'll know." You can feel your shoulders relaxing, the whole plan that Pam laid out for you starting to make more and more sense.

"Freak-out at home, kiss at midnight. If he doesn't feel the same, just play it off…" You blow out a raspberry, looking back up at her with a worried expression. "It sounds like it might work."

"Of course it'll work," Pam mumbles, rolling her eyes. "Now I really need to get going before Angela hides my decorations." She rushes away, pushing through the door to the stairwell as you tilt your head, your brow furrowing in confusion.

You wonder why Angela wouldn't approve of Pam's decoration choices, then nod your head as you realize, well, it's Angela. You spin on your feet, facing the double doors back into the office with apprehension. You pick at your nails again nervously, biting your lip. It's just another hour, you can do this. Everything will be completely fine. You slowly make your way back inside, shooting a smile at Jim who immediately looks up to you as you enter. You feel warmed when he smiles back, watching you take your seat again.

He doesn't bring it up, for some reason, your little escapade with Pam. He seems distracted though, either with work or messaging someone, and you begin to wonder if it's really a good idea after all. Once the end of the shift comes, you murmur a quiet goodbye to Jim and a 'see you later,' as you wander toward the elevator. He comes out after you, though heads to the stairwell where you notice Pam- sans bag- is standing there looking exasperated.

"It's not my fault you told them-!" Pam begins, but Jim shushes her with a look toward you, pulling the stairwell door closed. You keep your eyes on the elevator, watching the numbers increase as it makes its way to your floor, but you're distracted trying your best to listen in. The most you could make out was that it was about some sort of prank- Oh! The prank that he had mentioned he wanted to do during the party. You'd already forgotten about that. You hoped it wouldn't be happening at midnight, since that would make performing your plan rather hard.

You step onto the elevator as it dings, not bothering to give one last look in their direction as you figured you'd see them again soon enough. The ride home was tense between you and your own thoughts, and once you got home you gave yourself enough time to have a proper freak-out about your newfound feelings. Although, what Pam said swirled in your mind over and over. She could tell that you've had feelings for him for awhile? Honestly, the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. He could always make you laugh, and he was always there when you needed him. He knew when to stop joking around, and when you needed that more than anything else. He was always worried about you, hanging out with you- you two were best friends at this point. And what better partner than a best friend?

You spent an abnormally long time picking out what you'd like to wear for the evening, settling on something you'd consider business formal since this was still a work event. Then you spent another hour sitting in front of your TV- on the edge of your seat and tense since you didn't want to wrinkle your clothes- trying to relax by watching some TV. Even Chandler Bing couldn't get you to laugh and loosen up enough before your alarm went off. You jumped up, turning everything off before heading out of the door into the night, driving right back from whence you came.

You looked to be early- although a few cars still littered the parking lot. The building was locked when you tried it, but you watched as Phyllis rounded the corner, laughing at something Bob Vance must've said. They were the picture of love, staring at each other with heart eyes and broad smiles. You wonder absently whether you look that way toward Jim all the time, then worry if perhaps he already knew about your feelings for him. You don't have time to dwell on those thoughts, as once Phyllis catches sight of you, she waves you over right before hanging a sign on the wall. She informs you, very cheerily, that the fire escape would be the way up to the party, and you take note of the signs stating much the same.

You take your time climbing the rickety fire escape, the stairs groaning under your feet as you go. You knew the party planning committee likely hadn't left work since starting their setup, so you expect to find Pam here. But you remember seeing, and parking next to, Jim's own car as well. You begin to wonder if he'd even left work, but as you take the last step onto the roof you realize he must've. He was dressed in a nicely pressed black suit, his hair combed back with a nice bowtie instead of the usual tie he wore during work. You're stunned, standing there and admiring him, without even realizing that he's speaking quickly to Pam, as if nervous, while holding something odd in his hand.

Pam's eyes on you jumpstart your feet, and you finally begin to approach the duo. You look down at the long yellow object in his hand, clearing your throat to interrupt. "I wasn't expecting to see a 'wet floor' sign up here, Halpert?" Jim jumps, turning toward you with wide eyes, which scan you up and down. You fidget slightly in place, hoping he also liked what he saw. "Is that something to do with the prank?'

"What?" His mouth is hanging open slightly as he studies you again, his eyes raking your form. It takes two nudges from Pam, the second one physically moving him, before he jumps and quickly looks down at his own hands as if forgetting he had been holding it. "Oh!" He laughs, turning back to you with an awkward smile. "Yeah, yeah, I," He clears his throat, shrugging, "Well, I figured we could set this down near the punch or something and watch as people try to tip-toe around it for a drink." You blink for a few moments, furrowing your brow.

"That's… A rather lame prank, isn't it?" You murmur, tilting your head. You glance down pointedly at the large gravel under your feet, there specifically to make sure the roof doesn't get slippery and cause a hazard to anyone who is supposed to be up here (which you were pretty sure none of you were). You hadn't noticed when Pam walked away, but she suddenly isn't around anymore and you take another step closer to Jim, not quite realizing how cold the night would be. Jim laughs awkwardly, raising a hand to rub the back of his head before thinking better of it with his styled hair, lowering his arm back down just as awkwardly.

"Yeah," Jim agrees quietly, taking his own little step toward you, "It really is, isn't it?" He bites his lip for a moment and you track the movement, studying his lips with the intensity only given to those who wanted to kiss them. You try to drag your eyes away, and eventually meet Jim's eye line again. "I'll be honest, though, I didn't really have a prank planned."

"No?"

"No," Jim whispers, looking down at the sign in his hand again before scanning the area, taking a few steps to the side to lean it against a table before skipping his way back over to you. "I just panicked and agreed with you, I thought it was something you'd wanted." You laugh, tilting your head to the side.

"I only want to spend the night with you Jim, prank or no prank." You watch him freeze, his eyes widening for a moment before a brilliant smile lights up his face, and he reaches down to take your hand in his.

"I feel the same way," Jim whispers back, laughing softly at the irony. You both smile at each other, eyes locked, until a loud crash jolts the two of you apart. You both look toward the sound, where the fire escape stands, and watch as Dwight stumbles up the stairs, tripping once more before standing straight up. He fixes his coat- he seems to be wearing much the same thing as Jim except he's added a top hat to the ensemble- and then begins to walk off as if nothing happened. You and Jim both look at each other and burst out laughing, leaning against each other to hold yourselves up.

"I've got a fantastic idea, actually," You mumble to him with a smile, rushing for the wet floor sign. You both spend the next couple of hours chasing Dwight around the party, placing the wet floor sign behind or around him at different points. At first, the man takes it very seriously, tip-toeing around just as Jim had mentioned wanting to watch. Then, you both could see Dwight getting rather suspicious, inspecting the floor for water to the point where he even dropped to the floor onto his stomach, inspecting very closely. You both were hidden around the corner as he began to yell about how workplace safety isn't a joke, but managed to snag the sign without him noticing before he went to grab it and put it away.

Jim insists on continuing even further once you suggest putting it away finally, and you let him do as he wants, watching in amusement. He begins to place it in ways that seem as though the sign is following Dwight around, and he even goes as far as to put googly eyes on the sign itself. You laugh as Dwight takes the bait, assuming the sign is stalking him, and laugh even harder when Jim cuts out eyebrows from black construction paper and pastes them onto the sign to make it look angry. The moment Dwight sees this, he begins to 'fight' the object- and begins to lose as he falls onto his back and gravity makes the sign fall on top of him, his flailing making the sign tangle with his limbs.

You and Jim have to hide behind some decorations to keep from disturbing the peace from laughing so hard. You fall against each other, leaning on one another and taking deep breaths to calm yourselves. Noise begins to pick up from around the corner at the party, and you peek around to find out why. You spy Angela helping Dwight up off of the ground, however most of the other people are circling around the large digital clock that was set up in the middle of the party. The time was blinking every second, and you noticed it was cutting it close to midnight.

"Oh!" You reach back, slapping at Jim's arm to get his attention. He sucks in a breath, trying to calm the last of his giggles.

"Yeah? Dwight fall over again?" He laughs once more at the mental image of that, and you chuckle blandly before shaking your head, turning to face him and smacking at his arm once more.

"No, Jim," You chuckle, shaking your head as you wait for him to pay attention. "It's getting close to time!" He looks at you confused for a moment, wiping a tear from his eye before he finally realizes. His eyes widen, and he circles around as well, peeking his head out and reaching to grab ahold of your arm.

"Wait, it is! We need to get out there!" He looks toward you with a grin, pulling gently on your arm. "C'mon!" You laugh and nod, coming along easily enough that he drops his grip from your arm, sliding down and tangling his hand with yours. You both run out into the rest of the party, intermingling yourselves into the crowd. There are much more people here, you realize now, than that actually work at Dunder Mifflin. Either from your coworkers bringing dates or family, to perhaps even other workers from different companies in your office building deciding to join in on the fun. You could spot a few people that work in the distribution center down below, as well as a few friends or coworkers of Bob Vance at Vance Refrigeration. You tighten your hold on Jim, not wanting to get separated in the crowd, but also enjoying the ironic privacy you got from being surrounded by such a large group of people.

TEN, NINE, EIGHT,

You turn to face Jim, who is staring up at the clock and watching the time tick down. You can see him glance around surreptitiously before turning to face you, startling at the fact that you're already staring up at him.

SEVEN, SIX, FIVE,

He reaches down, taking your other hand in his. He's bumped from behind, closing the distance between you until you're not sure if you're completely pressed against each other or if it just feels like it from the pounding of your heart.

FOUR, THREE, TWO,

You're staring into each other's eyes, and it feels like everything and nothing at the same time. Was this a mistake? Was this the best thing you could ever do? Your mind is running a million miles an hour and you suddenly take note of the fact that neither of you are counting down along with the crowd- which is such a weird thing to notice at this time. You'd much prefer to notice how the fairy lights surrounding you glimmer against Jim's eyelashes, or how he seems to be leaning slowly closer to you.

ONE, ZERO!

You both lean in, bumping against each other from the rush and laughing before slotting your mouths together in a kiss that you both initiate. You weren't expecting him to reciprocate, let alone to try and start a kiss like you had done. You feel him loosen his grip on one of your hands, using his now free hand to pull you in closer. Your kiss deepens and continues long past everyone's cheering and congratulating of the New Year, and by the time you both pull away you're panting for breath. You assume you have a matching smile to Jim's wide one, staring into each other's eyes.

POP, POP POP

You both look up quickly, eyes wide as colours burst across the sky. Fireworks light the air, and you wrap your arms around Jim, leaning against him as you stare at the fantastic colours exploding above the both of you. It's hard to hear anything over the cheers and the crackle of explosives, but you feel the beating of Jim's heart against his chest and you feel more content than you have in awhile. The show lasts a good few minutes, and once it's all over you remain standing there, leaning against Jim, his arms encircling you. You finally direct your attention back at him, and find that he's already staring right back at you.

"I think this New Year is going to be everything I ever hoped it would be," Jim whispers, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. Your smile widens, and you quickly turn up your face to press your lips against his once again.

"I couldn't agree more."

#jim halpert x reader #gender neutral reader #mutual pining #happy new year!#tw: flashing lights #at the very end

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 4 months ago

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I've noticed a trend in other reader fics where the author changed [Y/N] (your name) to [R/N] (reader's name) as well as people saying they don't like seeing [Y/N] or think it just reminds them of yes/no, etc.

As an author of reader fics, I personally love to use names a lot as a form of gaining attention and attraction toward a character, but I also try to minimize the amount of times I use [Y/N] just because it stands out a lot from the writing of a story and can almost take you out of it in a way?

Anyway, this is a long-winded way to say I'm still going to try and minimize my usage of the term, however, when I do have to use it...

Not adding a 'neither' option because again, I'm going to try my best not to use it anyway but sometimes it's necessary. Pls let me know!

#serenespeaks #x reader

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 4 months ago

Note

You asked for a request, so I shall ask:

How about a Jim Halpert x gn reader, where both are planning to finally confess to each other at the office's New Years Party with a smooch once midnight strikes?

(Feel free to take your time and fulfill this request - no rush!!)

And ofc I enjoyed the fics!! It brightens my day seeing you post another one of your incredible works!

You're so sweet thank you so much! I tend to do my writing during my free time at work and I'm off the next couple of days so it might be a sec, but that request is very cute and very my style, I'll definitely try to have something posted by (or maybe on?) New Year's!

(also why does this kinda remind me just a little bit of that one friends episode where Chandler wants to kiss Monica on new years but doesn't want to reveal his relationship so Joey goes around and gets everyone to kiss each other? Anyway)

Also thank you so much for saying you enjoy my writing!! 🥰 It means the world to me!

#serenespeaks

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 4 months ago

Note

NOT YOU POSTING TWO FICS IN DECEMBER

You're spoiling us (:💛

Well I don't generally get requests when I ask for them, but both of those were sent in at the same time when I asked! I was incredibly surprised and delighted to see it so I wanted to send them out to you both as a sort of thank you, y'know?

I hope you enjoy them! I had a blast writing them 😊😊

#*cough send in more requests cough*#serenespeaks

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 4 months ago

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Crashing and Falling

Jim Halpert x Reader

Reader: helpful, emotional, sunshine. No pronouns or descriptors used

Warnings: death of a wild animal

Summary: Last night had been Dunder Mifflin’s annual Christmas Party, which turned out to be quite a bit more wild than some people would’ve expected- including you. You and a few others decided to stay sober through the party as designated drivers, and while you still had fun at the party with your friends, it still ended up pretty late by the time you got home. But what could go wrong with getting up early to go help clean up the office before work starts? Or… What could go right?

[You can find my xReaders Masterlist here!]

You were kinda lost?

There wasn’t really any other way you could describe it if you were being honest. You’d been on the way to work early- you had volunteered to take down all of the Christmas decorations after the party everyone had last night, though you hadn’t had the time. Mainly because you had also insisted on being one of the designated drivers that night, so you had taken a good majority of your coworkers home, then headed home to sleep off the party yourself. So you decided you’d just head in early and get it all done before anyone showed up for work, and maybe even begin hanging the stars and silver decorations that would consist of the New Year’s party embellishments.

Except, it had been really rather foggy out when you’d left your apartment to get into your car. You’d been surprised at how little you could see of Scranton around you, though you figured it wasn’t so bad as to warrant waiting for the day to get brighter and burn some of the fog away. So you turned on your low lights on the car and drove off in the direction of Dunder Mifflin, planning out your order of operations as you drove. You could make yourself a pot of coffee and have a few cups as you took everything down. You could even take your time, play some nice music as you did so- you had left rather early enough, after all. Perhaps, even-

WHACK

You slammed on the brakes, your eyes wide and panicking. Throwing the car into park and pressing the button for your hazards, you immediately begin to rush trying to take your seat belt off- struggling and taking much too long to do so in your panicked state. You finally throw it off, jumping out of your car and leaving the door open to circle around to the front. Your headlights highlighted the object- the animal- that you had hit and made apparent the dent in your car that you weren’t exactly worried over right then.

You’d hit a deer! Sure, you’d heard of it happening often enough. People coming in to work annoyed and complaining of another dent in their car, throwing their bags onto their desks with force. You’d always jump up immediately, feeling this instant instinct to help and soothe and uplift the person who’d been upset. Honestly, you did that rather often despite the reasoning of their mood, but that wasn’t the point right now. They’d only been annoyed, perhaps peeved about their car being damaged? They weren’t- they hadn’t-

You were devastated.

Sure, you didn’t know the deer. You hadn’t even thought about a deer actually dying when all of your coworkers had complained before, but you were looking at it now. It was there, its eyes wide and unseeing, laying flat across the road, directly in the middle of the lane you had been driving down. How were you going to move it out of the way? Was there anything you could’ve done to help, were you too distracted while driving? How were you going to get through your day knowing that you’ve killed a living being?

You don’t really know how long you stood there, hand covering your mouth in shock, unshed tears brimming in your eyes. You come to from a honk behind you, spinning around only to squint through the fog to notice some dim headlights parked behind you. You watch the faded image of the car door opening, someone stepping out and standing behind their open door. Their tone was gruff and didn’t sound very friendly, putting you even more on edge.

“Hey, what’s the hold-up? I’m tryin’ to get ta’ work here!”

“I-” You try to call out, clearing your throat and hoping the emotions weren’t as clear in your voice as it sounded. “I hit- there’s a-” You realize rather suddenly you couldn’t finish your sentence, you couldn’t say aloud what you’d done.

“What are ya’ on about- oh, fuck it.” The man circles his door, approaching you and becoming more clear the closer he gets. He was an older fellow with a long black scraggly beard, streaks of white through both it and his hair that was tucked under a dark baseball cap. He was wearing some rather comfortable-looking working-class clothes- he wasn’t grubby by any means, just a bit gruff around the edges. “What did ya’-” His words stop as he peeks around the front of your car, beginning a slow nod as if in understanding. “Ah. Well, that happens often enough.” The man moves toward the dead animal, pulling gloves from his back pocket and sliding them on as he glances back at you. “You seem pretty upset, this your first time something like this has happened?”

“Uh,” You shake your head minutely, trying to bring yourself back into reality, “Yeah, yeah, this is- uh,” You nod, bringing a hand up to your mouth to chew on a fingernail nervously. “I just, I couldn’t see it, y’know? It’s so foggy out, I swear I was watching-”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” The man calls out, his gruff voice exacerbated by the effort of lifting the deer enough to begin pulling it to the side of the road. “What you doin’ out so early anyway? You don’t look like a factory worker.”

“Oh, no,” You drop your hand, shrugging as you walk over into the doorway of your vehicle, wanting to bring yourself some comfort. “I was on the way to work, though. I was going in early, I’d volunteered to take down the Christmas decorations.”

“Oh, yeah?” The man grunts, heaving once last time to finalize his little mission. He turns back to you, clapping his hands together as if to brush them off before beginning to remove his gloves. “What is it you do, then?”

“Oh, uh, paper.”

“Paper?”

“Dunder Mifflin paper company, we sell different sizes and thicknesses and-” You stop, huffing out a sarcastic laugh, “I’m sorry, this isn’t interesting. We just supply the paper that businesses need.” The man grunts with a nod, glancing to his car behind yours before looking back to you over the hood of your car.

“I need paper.”

“Oh, we mostly work with businesses-”

“I have a business.”

“Oh! Well, let me just-”

You end up digging through your belongings until you find your business card, handing one over to him. You learn his name is Grant Russel, and promise to call him later that day after lunch to set him up with what he needs. You do this all in a sort of daze, but you realize once you’re in your car and driving down the road again that he might’ve just been doing it to get your mind off of things. It’d worked, briefly, though now that you were alone again you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The mental image of that animal lying on the ground was haunting you, even as you pulled into the empty lot.

You made your way inside slowly, staring into space and moving methodically. You set your things down on your desk and turn slowly, blinking at the office around you. You immediately grab a trash bag and throw yourself into your work, forgetting about any plans of coffee or music. The sound of the car hitting the animal repeats in your head, the frantic seatbelt fight followed by the sight once again- it all kept replaying in your head as you picked up lose styrofoam cups littering the ground and desks, papers strewn around everywhere from a surprisingly wild office party.

The light above you flickers on and you flinch, looking up at them first as if they would provide an answer. Then, thinking better of that, you turn your attention toward the light switch. There he stood, your best friend and partner in prank, Jim Halpert. He had on a goofy smile, the Santa cap from last night sitting sideways on his head, holding his briefcase and jacket in the hand not resting on the light switch.

“Do you do everything in the dark?”

You want to answer him. You open your mouth to say something, but the words don’t come out. His smile slowly falls along with his hand, and his eyebrows furrow as if he’s trying to figure something out. You look down at the trashbag in your hand, clearing your throat and shaking your head. You could hear his light footsteps in the silence around you as he approached slowly, the ‘clonck’ of his briefcase hitting the desk finally shocking your mouth into action.

“Sorry, I just- I hadn’t noticed.” You turn, beginning to look around the room you’ve been cleaning. You hadn’t realized you’d already picked up everything off of the floor, the bag in your hand now full. When had that happened? “I was just- I was lost in thought, apparently.”

“Hey,” Jim’s voice is soft, gentle, and his hand touches your arm just as gently. You turn your attention up to him, blinking and feeling tears begin to fall down your cheek. When had that happened? You weren’t aware you had been almost crying until it happened, silently and lightly, barely anything really. But Jim noticed, his eyes tracking the movement of the tear before he raised a hand to brush it away from your cheek, pain in his eyes. “What happened?”

You blink, the image of that scene replaying in your head as you stare through Jim. He lowers his head slightly as if trying to catch your eyes even though you’re looking straight at him, and it brings you back to reality, back to the present time. You start to shake your head, ready to lower your gaze, but Jim uses the hand that’s still sitting on your cheek to pull you back up to look at him. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it matters to you.”

His response was so fast like there was no thought or any other possibility that could matter. You bite your lip, face crumpling into sorrow once again. “I-” You try to say it, to convince yourself that if you say it then you’ll feel better. You have a sinking feeling that if you say it, it’ll just make it even more real. “I hit a deer on the way to work.” The tears come back, pooling in your eyes as you look up to Jim, pleading, “I didn’t see it. I swear- it’s just so foggy out, and-”

Jim shushes you gently, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you gently into an embrace. You fall into his chest, dropping the trash bag next to you to wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his shoulder as the sobs finally begin. He holds you as your chest heaves, rubbing your back and humming lightly in your ear. You weren’t sure if he wanted to say something but couldn’t think of the words, or if he was just humming on purpose, but for some reason it helped to soothe you a lot sooner than you would’ve anticipated. By the time you’re calming down, he finally speaks gently.

“There we are. Now that we got that out, how about we move a few steps into the break room and start up a pot of coffee? Or would you like hot cocoa?” You pull back, knowing you must look a mess, and look up toward Jim with a wide, and confused, expression. “Something hot to drink will do you some good, c’mon.”

He pulls you by your arm- not enough that you couldn’t resist if you wanted to, but you liked the feeling of his hand on you, guiding you. He opened the door, holding it and ushering you in before letting it swing closed behind him. He gestures for you to take a seat, taking the coffee pot and beginning to wash it out, cleaning the whole thing. “Thank you,” You mumble, sitting down on the cold plastic chair next to the table and turning it so you can still face him. He glances up at you with his silly little half-smile, pulling his face to the side. He looks back to what he’s doing without an answer, turning off the water and shaking the components he held to fling the droplets off.

“Did you decide on coffee or cocoa?”

“Coffee,” You mumble again, and he nods. He seems lost in thought as he goes through the process of putting together a pot to brew, and then he’s finished and the sound of the coffee pot coming to life begins to fill the air. His hands, idle now, rest on the counter in front of him, and he leans forward against them, staring at the pot of coffee beginning to lightly drip. You’re beginning to desperately want to know what he’s thinking- which then shocks you to realize that he had efficiently distracted you enough from the event that had happened that you managed to not think about it for a full minute. Well, until now.

He pushes himself off of the counter, clapping his hands together and turning toward you with a grin. “I think we should play a game.” You furrow your brows, your shoulders falling slightly in disappointment.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” You shake your head, sighing and running your hand over your face. “I just don’t think I’m quite in the mood for a game, for once.” You expected him to be shocked, of course. You were always the happy-go-lucky person of the office, bustling around to help everyone, willing to play any game or prank if it meant making someone happy or laugh. You don’t remember saying no to one of Jim’s games- ever.

“Hey,” Jim says, taking the few steps toward you so he can grab your hand from your face. “It’ll be fun, I promise. It’ll take your mind off of things, which is what you need.” As you continue to stare at him, unconvinced, he finally sighs and pulls out the seat next to you, taking a seat while still holding your hand. “Look, I’d offer to help you out at any moment of any time. I honestly, genuinely mean that.” He lets that sink in for a moment with a small smile, before finally opening his mouth, hesitating for but a moment before continuing, “However, this isn’t exactly something I can help with. So you’ve hit your first deer, and you’re very distraught about it. But I can’t go back and make you not hit that deer. I can’t go and perform CPR-” He stops, raising his eyes and tilting his head, “Well, I could try-”

“No,” You interrupt, a laugh bursting from your chest out of nowhere. You shake your head, raising your free hand to wave back and forth quickly, then pulling it up to wipe a tear from your eye with yet another chuckle. “No, it’s dead. The guy made sure of it.” Jim was grinning, obviously having just told a joke and happy that it worked, but you watch his expression falter as you mention ‘the guy.’

“There was a guy?” Jim asks nonchalantly, beginning to fidget and play with your fingers. You shrug, glancing over to spy how full the coffee pot has gotten.

“Yeah, I was holding up some guy from getting to work. I didn’t know what to do at all but he got out and helped me. Pulled the-” You feel yourself choked up suddenly, clearing your throat and pushing through it, “He pulled the body off the road so we could continue on.” As you glance back, you watch Jim’s shoulders fall very slightly, as if relaxing.

“Oh, well that’s good. I’m glad you didn’t have to take care of it yourself- but next time you can just call me, I’ll help out.” He nods with a smile, and you laugh, shrugging.

“I dunno’, he seemed pretty suited to the job.” You reach into your pocket, pulling out one of your own business cards and flip it over to the back, revealing the name ‘Grant Russel’ and a phone number under it. You feel Jim stiffen through your joined hands, and you raise your eyes with a start to notice that he’s gotten very still, staring down at the card in your hands.

“And he used your traumatic experience to ask you out?” You blink a few times, then burst out laughing, shaking your head and raising the hand holding the card up to your face again, wiping away fresh tears of laughter as it kept coming out- just wouldn’t stop, honestly. You felt literally insane, with so many emotions swirling and battling to take over. Jim finally breaks his glare with the card, softening his look into confusion as he stares at your laughter.

“You-” You chuckle again, pulling in a deep breath to try and regain a semblance of control. “You think that’s what this is?” You toss the card onto the table without care, seeing it slide to the middle from the corner of your eye. You sigh, shrugging, “No, he was asking me about my work for some odd reason. Mentioned paper, and he said he needed paper.” You glance over at the pot as it starts the sound of spewing, indicating the pot finishing up. “Honestly, I don’t know if I believe he really does or not. But I’m definitely going to call and try to secure that sale.”

You watch Jim sit frozen in place, no longer tense or stiff but just frozen like a deer caught in the headlights (bad analogy to think up, though, whoops). After a moment he shakes himself, pulling his hand away to slap them both down on his knees, pushing himself up to a stand and moving over toward the coffee pot. He throws out a forced laugh, nodding with a large grin. “Absolutely! Get that sale! See, something good can come from a bad thing!” He forces a chuckle again, reaching for the pot and going to pour it- into nothing. He hesitates, then looks up at the cupboard and back down at the pot in his hand. He sets it back down, moving to properly grab the cups this time. You watch all of this, amused, but mostly staring at the blush that seems to be darkening more and more.

“Jim,” You lightly call out, pursing your lips as you watch him take your favourite cup from the cupboard down, setting it down next to his rather plain but slightly chipped favourite cup. They looked good next to each other, you decided, and you hoped that you complimented Jim as well as your cups did together. He turns his head in your direction but keeps his eyes focused on his task, actually pouring the coffee this time. “Why were you worried about him asking me out?” You couldn’t help the feeling of hope beginning to rise in your chest, that perhaps maybe he’d been thinking of asking you out just the same as you had been. He turns now to look at you, eyes wide with an innocent expression.

“What? Oh, no reason,” He laughs, then shakes his head. Then hesitates, amending his statement, “I mean, no, I was- It’s just rude, you know? You just went through something, and you were probably pretty distraught. I mean, you seemed distraught, and asking you out when you’re like that, I mean-” He huffs a defeated laugh this time, shaking his head as he stirs the two cups. “Anyway, so this game-” He taps the metal spoon against the cup, the chinks sounding into the room and interrupting his sentence before he sets it down, picking up both cups and setting them down next to you on the table.

“Jim,” You quickly speak out, reaching a hand up to place on his arm as he reaches across you to get to the table. “So, there’s no other reason?” He pauses in place, having already let go of the cups he has no reason to stay bent over aside from just letting you hold him there. “Just- just because it’s rude?” He’s staring into your eyes, looking as if he’s building himself up to something before licking his lips, opening his mouth to speak softly.

“I-”

A sudden blaring of a ringtone pierces through the air, and you both jump so hard you separate. Jim takes a few steps back, placing a hand on his chest as if to control his heart rate, and you reach quickly into your pocket, pulling out and flipping open your phone. It had been Kelly, actually, asking where Ryan had gone and who had taken him home after the party, if he had gone home with someone else or alone. You attempted to reassure the woman, who seemed to be panicking and believing that Ryan was cheating on her again, but you couldn’t help but keep glancing up at Jim as you were trying to end the phone call. He slowly relaxed the longer the call went on, grabbing his coffee from the table and leaning against the opposite wall, drinking it as he watched you talk to her. He seemed mostly amused, laughing a few times when you had to repeat yourself for Kelly to calm down.

The phone call doesn’t really last that long, it just feels endless with the amount of words exchanged considering Kelly talks at a million miles an hour. Finally, you’re able to promise a more in-depth explanation of what Ryan was wearing and everything else she might want to know, but later once she’s in the office and you can speak face to face. You say goodbye three times before you’re finally able to hang up the phone, letting out a sigh.

“Do you ever stop helping people?” Jim asks suddenly before you’ve even put your phone back into your pocket, and you look up in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jim begins, taking his previous seat and leaning on his elbows toward you, coffee cup held between both hands precariously by the top rim of the cup. “That the whole reason you came in here was to help out Michael clean the office. You drove three different people home last night and even took time out of your day to help their partners bring their cars home so they could get to work today.” As he speaks, you reach forward and take the cup from his hands, not liking how close to falling it looked, and place it on the table next to him. You’re watching what you’re doing, looking at his cup, but he takes your hand and pulls it to his chest, causing your attention to shift back to him. He smiles, as if that was the reaction he wanted, and leaned forward even more. “Even now. You’re upset, you were crying- practically sobbing- not too long ago over an animal everyone else would’ve just moved on from. And you’re still answering a stupid phone call from Kelly and reassuring her about a relationship that she pretty obviously shouldn’t be a part of.” He laughs, shaking his head with disbelief. “I mean, you’re-” He catches himself, swallowing roughly (and you absolutely didn’t watch the way his adam’s apple bobbed, his throat flexing with the action), “You’re always doing this.” You’re pretty sure from his tone that he had been about to say some sort of compliment but changed it up at the last second. You wonder why, but shrug and answer all the same.

“Well, I just like to make people happy.” You smile softly, letting your head fall to the side as you stare into his shimmering hazel eyes, the fluorescents above doing no favours but admiring the shine all the same.

“You deserve someone trying to make you happy,” Jim mumbles, shaking your hand he still holds with his own- both of his own hands, actually, as you just realize he’s taken up holding your hand with both of his, as he had the cup just a bit ago. You raise your gaze from your joined hands back to his eyes, smiling softly and feeling that hope in your chest begin to spark and flutter a bit more.

“Well, that’s what I have you here for, isn’t it?”

So it turns out, the game that Jim had been wanting to play and tell you about involved doing what you came here to do- clean up and take down the Christmas decorations. After spending practically too much time in the break room having a cup of coffee and decompressing, you both refilled your cups and made your way into the office properly. The trash had been mostly cleared away- excluding the spilling trash bag on the floor- but all of the decorations still spun and shined and flashed around the room.

“So, we both have a box,” Jim begins, rushing around the corner to their little storage corner hidden behind a wall, fetching two identical empty paper boxes. He jogs back around, reaching out and placing one against your chest until you raise your hands to take it from him. He looks around again, eyes narrowing as if in planning already. “And whoever fills their box first wins.”

“Well, that’s just patently unfair.” Jim turns quickly, widening his eyes with innocence. False innocence, more like, the little cheater.

“What? What’s unfair about that?”

“I saw where you were looking! You’re just going to run right over there and shove that entire tree into your box, aren’t you!” Jim widens his eyes, then laughs, shaking his head.

“What? No,” He drags the word out, shaking his head as if trying to convince you, but his shit-eating grin suggests he’s just lying.

“How about whoever has the most decorations in their box once we’re finished wins, hm?” Jim narrows his eyes at you, pursing his lips. He’d obviously been thinking he would get away with his little joke, but now things seemed to be getting serious.

“And what does the winner get?” You hesitate, blinking a few times.

“Well, it’s your game.” Jim seems taken aback for a second, glancing around the room before dropping his gaze back down toward you with a smile.

“How’s about, whoever wins gets to ask one question to the loser, and the loser has to answer honestly?” You hesitate at this- it could honestly go very badly. Any number of questions could bring down the mood, or even ruin a friendship. But, this was Jim.

“Deal.”

Jim had rushed to the tree immediately while you meandered over toward Pam’s receptionist's desk, turning to glance at Jim before leaning over to operate her computer. You wondered why he still ran in that direction, but the question was answered pretty quickly once you saw him taking ornaments off of the tree one by one and throwing them into his box. He could get a good number that way, sure, but you weren’t really worried about winning or losing. At least you had help, and you were making it fun. And even more fun?

Music.

It started playing over the speakers, your favourite song, and Jim turned to look back at you in surprise. “You’re not gathering things? Did we not start yet?” He drops his hand, turning to look at you with a smile as he nods his head along. You finish clicking a few more things before moving from behind the desk and picking your box back up.

“Oh, it’s fine, we’ve started. It’s just much more fun to work with music on, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” Jim agrees, turning to take the ornaments down a bit slower than before. “Nice song, by the way.”

The next half an hour went by rather smoothly, in all honesty. Your mind would flash periodically back to that incident in the morning, but it seemed as if Jim had a radar for your feelings or could perhaps read your mind because he always managed to do something silly and bring you back out of those thoughts. When it looked like you both were getting close to finishing, you decided to have a little fun for yourself. With his back turned, you pick up a fluffy cotton snowman toy and chuck it at his back, turning around and pretending to have done nothing.

You see him turn from the corner of your eye, then you see some fast movement before something small and soft bonks gently against your arm. You turn to him, dropping your mouth open in shock at his obviously victorious grin. “How dare you, Halpert!” You place a hand on your chest as if you are aghast, shaking your head at him. “Attacking an innocent victim, unprovoked!”

“Unprovoked, huh?” Jim chuckles, leaning a hip against the desk he happened to be standing next to. “What are you gonna’ do about it, huh?” You look down into the less-than-half-full box you’re carrying, then look back up to him with a playful glare. He straightens up at the look in your eye, tilting his head slightly with his own narrowed look. “Wait, what are you gonna’ do about-”

He’s interrupted by the pelting of a first toy against his chest, followed by a second and a third as you continue to reach in and toss them out. You’re not aiming to hurt, just to make contact, and Jim scrambles to both get behind some cover while also reaching it and digging around for things he can throw that won’t break- ‘Hah, good luck with all those ornaments!’

Laughter fills the air, both yours and Jim's, along with the prancing tunes of your playlist as Christmas memorabilia flies and arcs through the air, the office now a battleground. You’re not hurt throughout, and you hope the same about Jim, though he never calls out in pain or yells that you need to stop. When you’ve run out of toys, you start grabbing some of the things that Jim had thrown that landed nearby, moving from where you were sitting under a desk. You crouch, ready to peak up and throw when an idea comes to your mind.

You throw a toy, sure, but then also pocket one into your box. You slide your secret plan under the desk, and for every toy thrown you toss one into the box. It doesn’t take too long- longer than expected, honestly, and you believe that perhaps he’s throwing the toys from the floor as well- before finally Jim yells out as your own arm is rearing back to throw.

“Truce!”

“What?” You called out, though you didn’t throw the toy. Instead, ducking down and tossing it into your box as well.

“I- fuck,” You hear a bit of stumbling and laugh to yourself, covering your mouth to muffle the sound. “I said truce! I don’t have any ammo left, you win!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you say I win?” You stand up, proudly placing your hands on your hips as you look in his direction. He’s peaking over the desk he had used for cover, only his eyes and the top of his head showing. He was really rather cute looking like that, though the cuteness turns to hotness the moment he stands up. His hair is fluffy and tossed around, and his clothes look dishevelled and wrinkled, pulling up on one side where it had been tucked in and drooping on the other where he must’ve been using his arm pretty wildly to have untucked it. It also looks like he’d unbuttoned his top button during the scuffle, more skin showing on his chest than you’d ever seen before. You’re struck by his attractiveness, frozen in place as your eyes scan him, properly speechless. Thankfully, it was his turn to speak anyway. He’s raising his hands in surrender, but his grin still lights up his face playfully.

“Oh, I’m not sure I said all that. I don’t mean the game we were playing, just the-” He gestures around, “The throwing war you started-”

“I started?” You interrupt, grinning up at him.

“Yes, you started. Don’t act like you didn’t.” He huffs, crossing his arms and making the bulges of his muscles pop through the shirt. You weren’t sure, but from the positions of his hands under his arms, you had a feeling he was pushing them out and posturing for you. You can’t help but snort, then laugh as you shake your head.

“Okay, okay, I started it. But we do have a bet going.” You grin, kneeling down to reach under the desk for your box, plopping it down onto the table. “So let’s get to counting.” Jim looks understandably taken aback, shaking his head.

“What do you mean? We still have to,” His voice falters, trailing off as he begins to scan the floor around them, “Have to… To clean up…” He looks up at you with a knowing look, surprise etched across his face. “You tricked me!”

“I did no such thing,” You lie, picking up your box and moving closer to him so you can compare his box to yours. “I was merely doing what we agreed to be doing, cleaning up.” Jim scoffs but doesn’t seem to actually be upset, merely just reaches down and picks up his own box from the floor, plopping it down onto the desk next to him. You set yours down alongside it, looking between the two of them. It was probably a good thing you’d come up with that idea, because the boxes looked pretty even in terms of fullness. You and Jim catch each other’s eyes, and you raise your eyebrows.

“I say we count each other’s boxes, so we don’t try to lie about our own count.”

“Deal,” Jim agrees, reaching across you for your box, leaning in close and brushing against you as he does so. You take in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself from the proximity, but instead all you smell is his cologne, making you even more lightheaded. You swallow roughly, sliding his box across to you and beginning to count, trying your best not to lose count. A few quiet minutes later, Jim proudly announces, “32!” You grin, picking up the last item and turning to look at him.

“30.”

“What?” Jim exclaims, his grin falling as he reaches for his box, speed counting for himself. You wait patiently, unhurried, but it doesn’t take long before he slumps his shoulders and looks at you in defeat. You hadn’t really planned to win, and he looked rather disappointed. You wondered why, it was all just fun and games after all, wasn’t it? “Well,” Jim throws his hands out, slapping them against his sides, then rubs his palms against his pants. “Looks like you won. What’s your question?”

“What?” You furrow your brows, wondering what he means before it comes back to you- the reward Jim had suggested. “Oh,” You blink, taken aback for a moment. Since you hadn’t believed you would win, you hadn’t thought up a question at all. You slump slightly, leaning your hip against the desk as you stare upward in thought. “Huh.”

“You don’t have one?” Jim asks incredulously, and as you look down at him you can see a mixture of emotions playing across his face. Mainly playfulness, but something serious alongside underneath it all. You bite your lip, then straighten up.

“No, I have one.” You study his face, wondering if you really should ask. Jim waits, then pushes his head forward to indicate he is waiting. When you still don’t answer, he laughs awkwardly, throwing his hands out once again.

“Well, what is it? Don’t leave me in suspense here.”

“What was it you were going to ask me?” Jim blinks, taken aback once again, then forces a laugh as his eyes flutter elsewhere, scanning the room.

“What? No, you won. You get to ask-”

“No, that’s my question.” You watch him freeze, then slowly force his eyes back to you. “You pretty obviously had a question in mind when you stated that reward. And I didn’t.” You waited a moment, shrugging. “So that’s my question, is wondering what you would’ve asked?” Jim stands there, still and quiet. Too quiet, you decide, and begin to worry as you shift on your feet. “I mean, I can come up with something else-”

“No,” Jim says quietly, taking a small step toward you. “That was the rule. The loser has to answer, and has to answer honestly.” He takes another step forward, his expression turning from playful into something serious- but also soft. He takes in a deep breath, looking down to reach out and take your hand, then back up to meet your eyes. They’re shining, and brilliant, and everything you want. “I was going to ask you out.”

“What?” It was your immediate reaction, saying that word. You couldn’t comprehend what he’d just said. You’d been hoping for those words for so long that you’re beginning to think you fooled yourself into hearing them. You shake your head, huffing a small laugh. “I’m sorry, I must’ve-”

“You heard me,” Jim whispers, pulling gently on your hand to get you to take a step even closer, playing with your fingers with his own. “Will you go out with me? On a date, just to test things out- or,” He shakes his head, breathing out a laugh that flutters the butterflies in your stomach. “I don’t know. I don’t need a test to know that I’m in love with you.”

Your mouth falls open in shock, staring up at him with wonder in your eyes. There was no way this was happening, right? This only ever happened in stories, but here he was. After cheering you up from a horrible morning, volunteering to help you clean the office, and now this? You must be dreaming. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t take advantage of it.

“Yes,” You breathe out the word, then nod quickly, speaking up. “Yes, absolutely. A date, or partners, or whatever you want, yes. I-” You watch the smile grow across Jim’s face as you answer the affirmative, something lighting up in your brain at the sight of his joy. “I’ve been in love with you for-” You shake your head, unsure how to finish that sentence. Thankfully, you didn’t have to.

Jim leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips, and you close your eyes and fall into the embrace. He places a hand on your cheek, the other still holding your hand, and you’re drowning in the feelings he invokes. It’s not a bad thing, this drowning- in fact, it’s what you’d been craving for so long. You couldn’t remember the last time that such a powerful yearning had been fulfilled, and craving more of that vindication you raise your arms up, grasping at the sides of his shirt and pulling him in closer.

By the time you finally broke away, both of you were pulling in a much-needed breath, smiling at one another. Jim’s thumbs lightly rubbed back and forth against your cheek, and you swore you could feel his heart beating through his wrist that your fingers lightly encircled. You’ve never known such peace with someone else before, and you couldn’t wait for what was to come from this.

“Race you to the storage room!”

#jim halpert x reader #mutual pining #hurt/comfort #minor animal death #disassociation #cheering up #first kiss #happy ending

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