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the-hidden-pages · 3 years

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Misread Affections - Laszlo Kreizler/Fem!Reader SMUT

I started at midnight. I had 0 words. It’s 4:30am. I have 4643 words because I have fallen deeply for Doctor Laszlo Kreizler. Forgive me for this.

Synopsis: With all your history together, you and Doctor Kreizler believe you understand each other. Yet when you believe him to be infatuated with Karen Stratton, and he believes you to have affection for Marcus Isaacson, you’re both stunned when you find yourselves to be proven wrong.

Warnings: NSFW. Desk Sex. Dirty Talk. Patient-to-Friend-to-Lover. Definite depression and general self-loathing.

SPOILERS FOR THE SECOND SEASON!!!!!!

You had always admired the man Doctor Laszlo Kreizler was.

He championed those who could not champion themselves. He worked tirelessly to understand the minds of criminals. To those very same criminals, and many others that lived as outcasts to society, he would offer kindness and understanding. At his best he was beyond intelligent and, daresay, sweet.

At his worst, he was ruthless, and his own self-loathing would have him come across as unempathetic most days. While preaching to others to care for himself, he would often forego his own care. While offering an ear and a receptive mind, he would refuse to offer himself the same.

You knew this within mere days of knowing Doctor Kreizler. And such facts made you rather fond of him.

A fondness that was not helped by his handsome build, his dark locks, his scrutinizing gaze.

And yet no part of you could justify ever acting upon this fondness.

You had come to him both as a patient and a colleague. You had always been aware of a darkness within yourself, ever since you were a child. This darkness had only grown, too often all-consuming, leaving you. a dysfunction wreck of a human being. However, you had an obligation to keep going, a promise you had sworn to your sister to continue your own existence. So, exist you did.

While your family’s fortune wasn’t enough to send you to Harvard, like the Doctor himself, it did allow for you to be a reasonably educated woman of the times. A deep fascination in understanding your own darkness led you to the work of alienists, and eventually to the work of Doctor Kreizler.

While you couldn’t often justify breaking societal rules to such an extent, you found yourself motivated enough to call upon the Doctor with a proposition – should he aide you in understanding your own illness of the brain, you would offer any services you could to the Kreizler Institute.

You could tell he was curious of you. A woman of your standing did not often make such demands with such authority, nor so blatantly admit to her own illnesses. He quickly agreed, eager to study why you considered yourself so damaged, and happy to take on an extra set of hands with the children he looked after.

Over time, you begun to slip effortlessly into Doctor Kreizler’s life.

You met the likes of Cyrus and Stevie, along with many others that worked at the Institute. You were then blown away by the strength within Miss Sara Howard, and the pure, undiluted love that Mister John Schuyler Moore could show others. You were even called upon on several occasions to be a fresh set of eyes, the murders of young boy prostitutes and kidnappings of babies not deterring you, to the surprise and reluctant joy of the Doctor.

And as Doctor Kreizler studied you, you studied him.

You slowly learned of all the emotion he kept hidden behind the façade of professionalism. The kindness, the love, the anger, the fear. While he showed none of these most days, occasionally a concoction of such feeling would burst in an overwhelming outpour.

In offering him a platonic safe space, a place for him to talk through such outbursts should he wish, he in turn aided you.

The darkness you felt for so long began to subside some days, and between the efforts of him and a passing remark from John, you learned of an outlet for your darker thoughts – writing.

While expressing your own emotions and turmoil did not come easy, you found it far simpler when written down on paper, as opposed to spoken aloud to a judging room.

Doctor Kreizler gifted you a beautiful leather-bound journal a mere day after this revelation, with the request that you record your thoughts. He promised he would not read it unless you requested him to as an act of therapy.

For many days, you allowed him to read any thoughts that came to mind.

Thoughts of blood, of death, of pain and anger. Thoughts of a stolen childhood, of worthlessness, of longing.

Many days when he read your pages, you would be silently crying as he did, fearful of his judgement. But it never came.

Instead, he would close the book silently, and offer you professional advice.

One particularly rough day, in which your narrative was beyond vicious to you, he closed the book before finishing, and offered you something you didn’t expect – an embrace.

He hugged you so tightly, that for once…

Your inner monologue ceased.

His own, however, raged on.

How could you think so lowly of yourself, he wondered? While he could understand mindsets built from trauma, he couldn’t help but wish you could see yourself through his own eyes. Your empathy when you cared for the children in the Institute. Your intelligence when conversing with Miss Howard. Your artistic delight when laughing with John. And the perspective, the warmth you offered such a broken man such as himself.

Neither of you knew, in that exact moment, that the other was realizing the fondness you both held in your hearts for each other.

And neither of you knew how truly broken the other felt at their core.

Two souls, believing themselves to be undeserving of love, finding it in their hearts for the other.

When the beautiful, cunning Doctor Karen Stratton entered the picture, you asked Doctor Kreizler to refrain from reading your journal.

He was hurt by this, but profession and courtesy claimed that he could not show it.

You began to withdraw from him, placing your entire focus on the case of the stolen babies and your focus on the children in the Institute. Kreizler, in his own difficulties of potentially losing the said Institute, took notice of your own withdrawal from your sessions, but held enough hope that you had found stability to care for yourself. You still conversed with Sara, you smiled with John. You had even been introduced to the Isaacsons, and he had wondered if you had taken a liking to Marcus.

You deserved a young man such as him, he told himself, heart heavy. A whole, young man with enough strength to support you.

And on the night of Marcus’ death, he believed it to be confirmed.

He found you alone, in his study where you so often had your sessions with him. You were curled inwards on yourself, clutching your journal as though it were your lifeline, sobbing uncontrollably.

He moved to console you, arms holding you tightly.

“It’s all too much,” you choked out, unable to articulate much more.

Doctor Kreizler nodded, waiting for you to be able to go on.

You regained some breath with difficulty. “I just…I can’t stand to lose a friend. Not after everything else lately.”

“I know how difficult it can be, to lose one you love…” Kreizler began, not noticing how your sobs stopped in confusion. “After Mary, I…Well I swore I would never again…The point is, I-“ he stopped short.

You had spluttered out a laugh.

Your hand covered your mouth immediately, noticing what had just happened. You immediately moved to cover it up, wiping away your tears and standing up away from him. “No, no, Doctor. Heavens, Marcus…well, he was loved but, I saw…I see the Isaacsons as brothers I never had. He was dear to me but…not in the sense I suspect that Mary was to you.”

“I…see…” Doctor Kreizler pulled back, sitting in his study chair as he gazed at you. “Apologies, I seem to have misread your relationship. Nonetheless, his death has greatly affected you, as it has all of us. I suspect it will be a very difficult grieving process, but…” he manages a soft, rare smile that warmed your heart. “We will endure it together, as we have these cases.”

“Will we?” your voice grew empty as your thoughts swirled.

He titled his head, unsure of where this was leading. You gathered your courage to question him.

“Rumour has it, Doctor Stratton has asked you to join her in Vienna. I wonder if you’ll go.”

Silence falls over the room.

Laszlo couldn’t understand what this had to do with anything. Your crying, your distress over Marcus. What did his leaving have to do with any of your distress?

“You’re greatly upset by something,” he eventually said, gazing at you with a more analytical eye than before. “I’m afraid you give me too much credit, if you think I know the specifics of it.”

“I-“ you stopped, clearing your throat as you choked up. Your knuckles turned white on your journal’s edges, hands shaking. “Doctor Kreizler-“

“It’s been months since we’ve known each other,” he interrupts, “and we haven’t held a session together in nearly five weeks. Would it pain you to call me Laszlo? Are we not…friends?”

You gaped at him, but his face remained unreadable.

You shake your head. “Yes, it…it would pain me. It would pain me a great deal, Doctor – it does pain me a great deal to hear you call me a friend when…”

“When what?” he prompts you sharply, and you inhale quickly.

“When I feel I’ve been dishonest with you, unkind to you…” had the room not been dead still, Laszlo might have missed the next words you whispered. “I feel I’ve been perverse to you.”

If he was confused, he didn’t show it. And you were talking now, the words spilling out, a cascade unable to end.

“I feel as though…had Marcus not…died…tonight, I might never have done this. But then my mind, it began spinning so quickly I couldn’t stop it, and I couldn’t help but imagine countless scenarios in which Libby, in which the Dusters, in which…well, in which any number of causes might take your life as well. In which you might die before…before I can confess…” You huff, your words getting caught once again. With a determined move, your arm shot out to pass your journal to him, and Kreizler takes note of a particular page being creased.

He looks up at you, but you don’t meet his eye.

“I’ve marked where I want you to start reading. Just…go from there. Inform me when you’re finished.”

You walk over to the window, desperate to be distracted, as Doctor Kreizler opens the book and reads at your request.

He can’t comprehend what he’s reading at first.

While he had grown accustomed to your twisted perception of yourself, he hadn’t realized just how ruthless the self-loathing could take you. Endless doubt of your friendships with the team, with your position as a caretaker, in your abilities to be a friend. And as words continue, he realizes your doubts in being a partner, a lover.

If he grows flustered at the words he reads, he’s determined not to show it to you.

He reads your envy of women like Sara Howard, able to move forward with such strength and certainty, and of Karen Stratton, so brash, so forward. Your envy is strong towards her, in her abilities to understand sexuality, passion, human desire, and in…

In her connection to himself.

His eyes widen as your own ramblings seem to uncover a truth you hadn’t explored before – your attraction to the Doctor that had aided you, offered you employment. The pure taboo of such affections, yet your inability to stop it. Your adoration, your admiration for the intimidating, raw man that he was. How you felt unworthy, that you would hold him back, that he deserved a woman as delightful as Doctor Stratton, a woman who could stimulate him academically, that could pleasure him physically. How you felt so deeply ashamed of harbouring such elicit fantasies of the man that had been nothing but kind to you. How you loved him so deeply it made you want to die, because you would never be deserving –

You heard the journal snapping shut, and you couldn’t bring yourself to face the Doctor, knowing what he must’ve read, dreading what he must now be thinking.

The silence lasted far longer than you would’ve liked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“I find myself taken aback more often than I like,” Kreizler’s voice shatters the still air. “I believe myself to be so wise, so understanding of the mind, and yet I come across a mind such as yours that I…I truly cannot fathom how you think what you think.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, voice breaking as tears begin to flow again.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a hand on your own. You don’t dare to turn around, frozen like a rabbit having been sniffed out by a hound.

“You think me to be attracted to Doctor Stratton, am I correct?”

You nod. Of course, he was. Was it not obvious?

“Karen and I are colleagues, and friends, should I be too bold to assume so. I can recognize that she is a physically beautiful woman, yes, and I’m sure some day she will make a man a very happy husband, should she wish. But her and I have a kinship, a partnership, not unlike what I believe you and Marcus might have had, that I too misinterpreted as love.”

You sniff, closing your eyes tightly. What was he trying to tell you?

Doctor Kreizler spins you around slowly, leading you to face him.

“I do not harbour half the affection in my heart for Doctor Stratton as I do for you.”

You freeze. “Doctor-“

“Please,” he reaches up to cup your face, wiping away several of the tears that had fallen. “Please call me Laszlo. You are not the only one to have an epiphany after the loss of our friend, my dear. If you are being so honest with me, I feel it only right to offer you the same.”

“Laszlo…” you whisper, meeting his eyes for the first time since he read your words. His heart breaks with the pain within them. “How can you do this? Look at me, hold me, when you see how broken I am? I’m undeserving-“

“You would choose to love, to care for a cripple, a shell of a man in the eyes of society. A man who has too often neglected the children he cares for, often spat in the face of those he dares to call his friends. If either of us is undeserving of the other’s love, my dear, it’s me.”

Your brows furrow angrily, reaching up to mirror him, cupping his own face with both of yours. “Laszlo Kreizler you stop that right now, I won’t hear any more of…you’re smiling. How could you be smiling?”

He leans into one of your hands affectionately, a rare, dashing smile lighting up his features in a way you cherished to see, despite the circumstances. “Perhaps we are both wrong. Perhaps…perhaps we need each other, to use each other’s eyes and hearts to understand who we truly are. We both have such lowly opinions of ourselves but…perhaps it was meant to be.”

Your own smile was beginning to form, despite your best efforts, as your brain’s screaming of all that could go wrong began to quieten.

“I hesitate to believe in fate, Doctor…” you trail off, taking a step closer, your heart filled with hope and eyes filled with wonder. “I hesitate further to admit to needing someone, and yet…my brain is only ever kind and quiet when I’m around you.”

Laszlo’s weaker arm rests on your hip, while the thumb of the hand caressing your face moves to trace your chin. “My language is not as…poetic, as yours, my dear,” he confesses, and you both chuckle, “but I very much would like to kiss you, with your permission.”

“Laszlo, you could do anything to me,” you confess, reaching forward to finally meet his lips.

It’s messy, and uncoordinated, but any lack of experience the pair of you may have is made up for by the pure, electric eagerness that overtakes the both of you. You’re both exploring, testing each other, in some give and take dance that does not seem to quell any emotions within you, instead quite the opposite.

You could kiss him forever, you quickly realize.

But by some cruel twist of fate, you have to pull away, air taking priority.

You stare wildly at him as he breathes heavily, eyes darker than you had ever seen, with a sense of uncertainty that you hadn’t ever seen about him before.

A teasing smile finds its way onto your face, as you can’t help but test your luck.

“How far, exactly, did you read in my book?”

He blinks at you a couple of times, uncertain of your line of questioning. “I read of your jealousy, of your shame, I don’t…I don’t believe I finished it all, I found I had to address the issue before I continued –“

“Would you like to know what else was in there?”

Laszlo appeared flustered as you led him back to his plush chair, and you knelt down between his legs to pick up the book that had fallen to the ground. You don’t offer it to him, however, instead putting it aside.

“My dear, I don’t –“

“I ask you to stop me, if my advances are too…forward to you, Laszlo.”

You slowly rise from your place, moving to lift your skirts so you might position yourself above the Doctor, straddling him in his chair. As if on its own accord, his good hand rises to situate on your waist tightly. You gently grasp his weaker hand, his “broken wing”, and lift it to your mouth, delicately kissing the palm, each finger.

Laszlo mutters your name, transfixed by your mouth’s movements.

“I would love every part of you,” you begin, continuing your assault of affection as you whisper against the part of him, he views as most broken. “I would care for you in every capacity in which I’m capable. I would strive to be deserving of you in every which way.” You drop his hand and lean forward, hands grasping the back of the chair as you hold his gaze. “I would have you claim every part of me, I would have your marks for the world to see, if you wished. I’ve dreamt of you and I in the most compromising positions that I dare not say, on nearly every surface of your study, my bedroom, the Institute. I would give you every single piece of me, Laszlo, every ounce of my attraction. I would give you my darkest sins and my deepest pleasure, if you would allow me too. Please, Doctor Kreizler, let me please you.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting from your confession.

Perhaps you wondered if he would push you away, exclaiming that your desires were too much, your words too sinful, and that he would cease associations with you immediately. Perhaps you thought he would scold you for being too wanton, too unbecoming of a woman of your standing. Perhaps you hoped the worst that would happen is he would kiss you softly and instruct that you both go to bed in separate rooms, that more carnal needs could be discussed at a later date.

Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to feel Laszlo shift and harden beneath you, eyes growing so dark they were nearly completely black, and have him reach his hand to curl around the back of your neck.

And you certainly didn’t expect the deep growl that escaped him as his lips, tongue, and teeth clashed with yours frantically, animalistically.

Neither of you had experience, you both knew this.

But you both knew what you wanted, what you needed, and that would be enough to motivate you.

You both took what you could, Laszlo leaving your lips to reach what he could of your neck, lavishing it with lips and tongue. He explored expertly, quickly learning what you liked based upon the quickening of your breath, of your pulse. What was left of his analytical mind was fascinated by the chain reaction of events, how you spurred each other on.

When he nipped at your ear, your hips rolled uncontrollably, and a rough groan escaped him unconsciously.

Fascinating indeed.

He panicked slightly when you stood, wondering if he had stepped too far. The panic raised as you strode across his study, heading quickly to the door.

“Wait, my dear, I-“

“Calm down, Laszlo,” you hushed him, and he heard a loud click of the door locking from where he sat. “I merely don’t wish to be interrupted. If this is still what you wish.”

He leans back in his chair, breathing heavily, observing you as you stand once again before him. “I should be asking you what you want, my darling.”

You grin, shaking your head. “Was my speech before not enough for you to know what I want, Doctor Kreizler? Can you not infer exactly what I want from you from the writings in my journal? It’s your turn to share, else I might just leave you like this.”

His good hand involuntarily juts forward, grasping yours desperately.

“Don’t you dare.”

You giggle, and he smiles at the sound.

“Then, tell me what you wish, Doctor.”

“I wish…” he trails off, watching as your hands move upward to begin slowly undressing yourself.

“Yes?” You prompt him teasingly, continuing your motions. “Don’t mind me.”

Laszlo shifts in his chair, erection clearly visible by the bulge in his slacks. “I…I wish…” his voice trails off again as his eyes take in every inch of your skin that’s uncovered. “I wish to be with you in every manner. Intellectually, spiritually, physically. I wish to connect with you in a way I never will with any other living creature on this Earth. I wish to feel you around me, to bring you to climax. I wish to fill you, to be yours, to fuck you, to make you Mrs. Kreizler…”

He stops at that, only becoming aware of his own ramblings you straddled him once again, completely nude.

The faintest voice in his head wondered if you made him stupid, but it was silence as his eyes took you in completely.

“You are the most gorgeous specimen I’ve ever been graced with seeing, my love.”

You pull him in to a languid kiss, gently tasting each other as your hand travels down his chest.

“You speak of love, of my being Mrs. Kreizler…” you start, almost losing your train of thought as you feel him twitch beneath you, your hips rolling to meet his. “Another day I’ll ask you to remind me of those words. But for now…” you lean forward, mouth grazing his ear, causing him to shiver. “I need you to fuck me, Doctor Laszlo Kreizler.”

For all of your faith in him, you don’t expect the next feat of strength.

With only his good arm he manages to lift the pair of you from the chair, quickly placing you upwards and onto the desk of his own study, mindless of the papers underneath you, of any others that might be in the building as you shriek in surprise.

He captures your mouth with his, more forceful, captivating, as his good hand explores your form, grasping both of your breasts before heading downwards to the warmth between your thighs. His fingers collect some of the wetness that had escaped your folds and examines it with an almost mocking scientific fascination.

“Is this all for me, my darling?” he questions, and you find yourself at a loss for words as he curiously lifts his fingers to his mouth, his tongue slowly tasting you off of them.

“Fuck, Laszlo,” you whisper, reaching forward to pull him in for a kiss again as he chuckles darkly against you.

His teasing ends when your hands wander downward, now working at the buttons of his slacks frantically, your palm grazing across his length through his pants, causing him to gasp.

“My God,” he pants out, and you pull him out of his slacks. He’s hard, warm, rigid in your palm, with veins and girth that you hadn’t imagined in any of your fantasies, but was now all you could imagine filling you, ending that emptiness that you felt.

“Please,” you whimper, and he gently removes your hand, before lining his cock up with your entrance.

He meets your eyes, checking one last time to ensure this was what you wanted.

“Laszlo, please –“your begging is cut short as he breaches you slowly, pushing his full weight forward as the pair of you connect.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

A tantalizing combination of pleasure and pain, your mind repeating an endless mantra of “Laszlo”, which you realize, when he’s fully inside, flush against you, that you’re muttering out loud.

“Oh, my love,” he breathes, his damaged arm lightly resting on your thigh, his other gripping your hip so tightly you knew there would be marks.

“You feel so right,” you mindlessly breathe, and you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him twitching inside you at the comment. You would remember that he likes praise, but…

“I don’t know that I will last long, my love,” Laszlo warns, his voice low, gravely, warm against your neck as he buries his face into it, pressing kisses into the skin of your shoulder.

It crosses your mind that you’re completely nude and he’s fully clothed, but the thought fills you with warmth rather than disappointment.

“Nor will I, but this will happen again, won’t it?” you question, a hint of doubt crossing your voice.

The Doctor silences it immediately, kissing you deeply. “Every night, every hour if you would let me, my darling. You are so wonderful…”

“Then please, fuck me Laszlo. I want to cum, I want you to fill me, I – oh!”

The first snap of his hips was relentless, and it was only more intense from there.

He was strong, sure of his movements, chasing his own pleasure and encouraging yours as much as he could, pressing kisses into your neck, your breasts, your lips, his good hand finding your hair tightly. Broken moans left you as dark, rasping breaths escaped him, and it was all too soon before you felt your peak approaching, familiar with the sensation from lonely nights with your own hand curiously working against yourself.

“Laszlo, Doctor Kreizler, I-“ at your moaning of his title, something in him snapped, and his teeth sunk into where your neck met your shoulder.

A deep cry left you as you reached your climax, a white-hot rush waving over you.

As your cunt clenched around him, Laszlo lost himself, growling his native German tongue as he lost his rhythm, heat filling you as he came.

You two didn’t have much time to come down from your highs, as the door to his home could be heard opening and closing from the floors below.

“Doctor Kreizler?” Sara Howard could be heard calling.

Your eyes wide, you rushed to put yourself back together, close wrinkled, roughly thrown back on and your hair being a wreck. You hoped you could pass it off as merely the result of a rough day, an intense mental break.

You turned to Kreizler, who was a picture of perfection, seeming to not be rattled by the events before…almost.

“Back to the case…?” he trailed off, his voice filled with uncertainty, and you smiled fondly at the terribly awkward, intelligent man before you.

You step forward and kiss him softly, the warmth between your legs and bruises on your thigh a reminder of what had just occurred.

“Back to the case. We can continue our escapades when it’s all over, Doctor.”

He chuckles, confidence returning to him as he nods. “I look forward to it.”

#x reader smut #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #Laszlo kreizler fanfic #smut #godpleaseletmerest #Ineedsleep

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maraudersftw · 3 years

Note

Claudia — this prompt!!!!!!! 💕✨

1. Two characters haven’t seen each other for a while, one keeps rambling about something insignificant and the other one kisses them because “Shut up you’re rambling just kiss me.”

Omg, M, so excited to receive this from you! 😂💜 And I had a blast writing it, so obviously it got long (1.5k words). Thanks for the prompt. Hope you enjoy!

Glittering Darkness

The Butterbeer is a slide of warm froth down his throat, easing up frozen insides brought on by the biting January cold. He smiles, grin stupid on face, hazel eyes bright behind glasses, and listens to Sirius yammer on about Quidditch and teams and players—

“The Canons don’t stand a fucking chance this season, mate,” Sirius repeats for the thousandth time that week, to the audience of Remus’s rolling eyes, Peter’s enraptured gaze and James’s dazed attention. “I have my bet on the Arrows. I mean, have you seen Crossby’s performance lately? Not missed a single bloody snitch so far in. That’s gotta be some kind of record, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it? Oi, Prongs!” he snaps, brows instantly furrowed at not receiving James’s immediate response, no matter that Peter’s vehement nodding probably dislodges the boy’s neck. “Someone throw a Confundus at you? That’s a dumb expression on your face, if I’ve seen one.”

James sighs, leans back, embraces the lovely chatter of his peers around The Three Broomsticks. “I’m just having a good day.”

The boys are instantly suspicious, each choosing to express such emotion with a varying degree of subtlety.

“How come?” Sirius asks, sounding almost put off at not being privy to the answer already.

“Well, I get to spend such a lovely afternoon with you lads. What more could I want?”

“To get laid,” says Sirius, a phrase that is followed immediately by Peter’s loud snort of laughter.

“By a very specific person,” Remus can’t help but add, amusement quirking his mouth in that typical way of his.

“Nonsense,” he waves off, another gulp of Butterbeer tossed back. “I’m perfectly content.”

“Okay, I take it back. It has to be a cheering charm,” Sirius ponders solemnly, just as a group of familiar Gryffindors enters The Three Broomsticks, huddling together as they brush off snow from thick robes and gloves.

Such a sight is by no means a rarity, given that the pub has already been crawling with Hogwarts students since the start of day. But James’s eyes are quick to lock onto a very specific person, a flash of red hair, pink cheeks, bright, bright laughter. No one around him seems to notice the tectonic plates shifting under their feet, nor the way that colour splashes, vibrant and sudden, painting the world afresh. No, they carry on with their conversations and snark as if air hasn’t suddenly become easier to draw in, as if her mere presence hasn’t literally lit up the room. He supposes, after a second of reflection, that she’s indeed his personal cheering charm.

Lily nods to the girls—Mary, Dorcas, Marlene—and points to a booth somewhere at the back. He can’t be arsed to check the exact location; not when it means taking his eyes off a much better alternative. But instead of moving away with them as they take their seats, Lily, curiously enough, breaks off from the group, face blank, easy grace and gait as she meanders off to the loo. Her eyes don’t travel to him, not once.

And yet, James spots that minuscule quirk of lips right before she disappears from view.

Oh.

Very well then.

He’s instantly on his feet, wooden chair scraping back with a loud groan, cutting off Remus mid-speculation as to the reason behind James’s jolly disposition. Three heads turn to him; curious, amused, perhaps even a little concerned.

“Um, you okay, mate?”

“Brilliant,” James replies, feels a thrum of excitement shiver through him, and wonders if it’s openly visible. “Perfectly brilliant. I just need to take a leak.”

“Well, alright, Mr Potter, you’re excused.” Remus laughs.

He takes the time to roll his eyes, but not the effort to dim his smile. It’s probable he looks like a complete loon on a sugar rush, but James truly has never cared about anything less. “Yeah, yeah, have your chuckles, Mr Moony. We’ll see who’s laughing by the end of the day.”

“I genuinely have no idea what you mean, and you sound completely unthreatening with that ridiculous beaming going on.”

James scoffs, walks away from another bout of laughter. “Fuck off.”

The hallway leading to the loos remains mercifully empty; luck that he doesn’t take for granted thanks to the crowd spilling inside the pub. With a quick manoeuvre honed over years of efficient marauding, he pulls out a shrunken invisibility cloak from his robes, enlarges it to its normal size, and disappears beneath the silvery material, feeling its strange softness like a second skin. And then he flattens himself against the wall, scooting around until he’s strategically placed within an alcove near the entrance to the girls’ lavatory—far away enough to give a wide berth to anyone he doesn’t want to alert, but near enough for an encounter with his target.

His target, who he presumes is not nearly as unsuspecting as she’d let on.

It takes only about ten seconds or so before he sees the swish of her robes, witnesses the easy smile on her face as Lily rounds the corner, nose teased red from cold, freckles scattered like stars, and finds the walls of his chest tighten like concrete slabs at the sight.

In a flash of movement, he’s got a hand wrapped around her wrist, sliding to her waist, yanking her firmly against his body without so much as a whispered greeting. Lily’s impulsive screech of surprise dies down the instant the cloak falls over her head, enveloping them both. The tension of her muscles melts away beneath his fingertips, and she’s quick to plant her hands on his chest, brush indelicately closer, space shrinking enough that he tastes the mint on her breath when she speaks.

“Rather indecent of you to accost me like this, Potter.”

He bends down, appreciates the excited gleam in the green of her eyes. His thumb finds her nape, massages gently. “I had something very important to discuss with you.”

“Mm,” Lily purrs. “That’s better. How may I help you?”

“You see,” he starts, chokes slightly when she grinds against him purposefully. “You see, I was just leaving the castle this morning, ready for a lovely outing with my mates, when a witch who looked remarkably like you all but shoved me into a broom closet, declared her undying love for me, and then snogged me into oblivion. And well, you’ve got to understand what that sort of thing does to a bloke’s mental state.”

“Huh,” she remarks, lets her upper lip slide over his bottom one, nothing but a ghost of touch. “I don’t know much about undying love proclamations, but do go on about this snogging into oblivion business, please.”

James drops his head, sucks on the pulse that jumps beneath the skin of her neck. “Oblivion. Abyss. A whole lot of glittering darkness,” he confesses. “And since this witch resembled you—”

“Remarkably,” she moans, soft.

“Remarkably, of course—I thought it only proper to inform you of such an occurrence, y’know, for reputation’s sake. You’ve got that Head Girl image to maintain. Can’t have imposters of you running around making out with the Head Boy. Doesn’t look too good, to be honest. And I’m saying this purely out of selflessness, of course. If, on the other hand, you were to shed some light on this act and admit to...I don’t know...a lack of an imposter, it would mean a whole other thing—”

Lily slams him back against the wall, hand shoving his chest, mouth dangerously close to his. “Shut up, you’re rambling.” She smirks. “Just kiss me.”

And almost as if unable to sustain any patience to allow him to follow the directive, her lips crush over his in a kiss that somehow burns through his every molecule, scorching the very skin he wears, rivalling even the best kiss he’s ever had in his life, which was, incidentally, shared with the same person naught but two hours ago. Lily’s hand curls over his collar, twisting the fabric, giving her purchase to devour him alive. He reciprocates with a tightening grip on her waist, tilting her jaw, slipping his tongue inside to brush over the warm wetness of hers. A mad rush of breath, of gliding mouths and hands and softly uttered moans passes between them, the air under the cloak sweltering despite the cold outside.

Eventually, James wrenches himself away long enough to get the word out; her name. “Lily.”

“Mm,” she manages, lips on his cheek.

“I’m going to need you to spell it out for me.”

The breathless sincerity of his tone gives her pause, and she pulls back, eyes dark and confused. “What?”

“Do you,” he swallows past the cowardice, the thump of his heart. “Is this happening for real? You actually want...me?”

A beat passes, a long one, and Lily stares and stares and stares. Eventually, a smile spills, and he’s reminded of that abyss; glittering endlessly. “Yeah, James. I want you. Wholly. Fully.” She kisses him again, trails the honey on his lips. “I’m just letting you enjoy this outing with the boys, because once we’re back at the castle…”

She’s trailed off, left him to articulate thoughts. “What then?”

Lily grins, glint of teeth so cruelly delicious that it steals his breath, especially when accompanied by the roll of her hips. “I’ll let you fill in the blank.”

#claudia writes #claudiawrites #jily #jily drabble #jily fic #jily canonverse #jily kiss #jily first kiss also I guess #james potter #lily evans #james x lily #jily flash fic #glittering darkness #hodgepodge #mlw10 #claudia answers #asks

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notanotherreidgirl · 3 years

Text

I’ve Got You

Summary: Reader and Spencer try something new

Pairing: Spencer Reid and Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, handjob, oral sex (female receiving), anal sex/pegging, degradation, leg riding, mommy kink

Word Count: 1460

A/N: This is a part of the Mommy Kink Collection. Also, this is my first time writing a scene like this in which I don’t really have that much personal experience to back it up (gosh, this is too much info) so please let me know if you think it’s ok. I did some research (rip my search history) cause I do want to make sure I’m writing something that’s representative. Anyway, don’t hesitate to let me know if you think it’s not a good portrayal. Thx!

Spencer had been working up the nerve to ask for a while but he could never seem to get the words unstuck from his throat until last week. You had surprised him by sneaking into his hotel room after wrapping up a case in New Jersey. You were stroking him with one hand while the other lightly massaged his balls, venturing down lower and lower. To your surprise, Spencer immediately ground his hips down when the pad of your finger brushed against him. "You like that baby?"

"Y-yes, Mommy. I like it a lot" he mewled, trying to hide his embarrassment by burying his face in your hair.

"A lot? How much is a lot?” you applied some pressure. “You want me to fuck you here, baby?"

He mumbled out a shy yes but that wasn't going to cut it. You increased the pressure ever so slightly, nearly breaching him. "I said, do you want me to fuck your tight little ass?”

"Yes please, I want you to fuck me Mommy" he cried, coming all over your hand.

And so it began. You started with one finger, then two, and eventually a small starter plug. He took it all so well, you had to make a concerted effort not to take out the strap the moment one finger easily slid into him. But you stopped yourself, drawing out the process for a week. You wanted to take care of your boy and a darker part of you wanted to tease him as well.

Now you could feel Spencer hovering. He was on the couch unsuccessfully watching a documentary about the perils of the fishing industry and getting up every other minute to look over your shoulder or shuffle books around on the coffee table or offer to bring you a snack. It would be cute except that you had given him very explicit instructions to be patient while you finished up some paperwork from the last case.

You had set him up for failure though, having teased him all day and telling him you had something special in mind for him tonight. The piece de resistance was the plug you put in almost as soon as you got home. His eyes went wide and he flushed a deep scarlet when he saw you take it out from the top drawer of your dresser along with a bottle of lube. It was new, bigger than what he was used to. When you pulled his boxers back up after putting it in he let out a confused whine that turned into a dissatisfied groan when you turned to your desk and pulled out your case files.

“Don’t be a brat. Can’t you be patient while I finish up my paperwork?” you asked. “Don’t you want to be a good boy for Mommy?”

And he did. He wanted to be good for you so badly but it was so hard and he had wanted this for so long. The final straw was when he once again offered to help, saying he could take a few files.

“You can’t wait 5 minutes for me to finish my work? Are you really that desperate to get fucked?” you scolded. He towered over your seated form but it was clear who was in charge. “On your knees.”

Without a second thought, he dropped to the floor. So eager. You slotted a leg between his parted knees and he sucked in a sharp breath when you made contact with his sex. You feigned disapproval as he rocked against you, letting out a bored sigh at his whimpers. “Look at you humping my leg like a little puppy. You’re so fucking needy.”

In truth, you had finished your paperwork back at the office but you wanted him as turned on as possible for tonight. Not that that was hard to do. The combination of the plug and his growing anticipation had electric shocks jolting through his body with each thrust. “I need to come. Please Mommy”

“You need to or you want to? I thought you were my good boy” you brushed the hair from his face. “To think I was going to fuck that ass of yours tonight”

“I am - I am your good boy. Please, let me show you” he gasped. Smiling, you removed your leg, drawing a frustrated whine from Spencer at the loss of contact. You shimmied out of your sleep shorts and parted your legs. “Go on then baby. Here’s your chance to show me how good you can be.”

This time you set him up for success. Spencer Reid could do things with his tongue that’d make the devil blush, add in his fingers and you didn’t care if there was a heaven or a hell so long as you had him buried between your legs. He took his time, littering your inner thighs with open mouth kisses and sucking pretty purple marks into your soft flesh - wanting to please you, wanting to show you how much he adored you. His tongue glided through your folds and latched around your clit, sucking it into his mouth. He brought himself even closer, lifting your left leg over his shoulder before sliding in two fingers and curling them upwards. He had you seeing stars and clamping your thighs around him as you came. He made no attempt to stop, lapping at your essence until you brought your hands around his face and pulled him away. “You did such a perfect job, darling. Why don’t you go to the bedroom and get undressed, I’ll be right there.”

Before you joined him, you packed away your files and poured a glass of water for him to have afterwards. You were nervous, wanting this to be perfect for your boy. You walked into the bedroom to see him lying faceup on the bed, cock flushed and leaky. You put on the harness and busied yourself with applying more than enough lube. When you were satisfied you stole a pillow from the top of the bed and slid it under his hips and snaked a hand between his legs to grip the plug. You pushed it in and out as you spoke. “You’re just a needy little cockslut aren’t you?” you eased the plug out and he whined, feeling empty.

“Please, mommy,” he begged. “I want you so bad.”

You settled between his legs and stroked his cock, coating him with his own precum and the leftover lube on your hand. He opened his legs, eager to have you fill him up. Before you made another move, you ran a hand up his thigh in soothing circles. “I’ve got you, baby,” you murmured. “Let me hear your colors”

“G-green for good, yellow to slow down, and red to stop” he could barely get the words out, his nervous heart hammering against his chest.

“That’s right, darling. I’m right here for you no matter what.” You lined yourself up and pushed, biting back a groan at how easily you slid in. You gave him the first few inches slowly and stopped to gauge his comfort.

“I’m green, I’m green, I’m green” he chanted, his head thrown back against the bed and hands fisting the sheets. You crept forward, watching your cock disappear into him. Now that you were fully seated inside him you moved a hand up and down his cock, drawing out a symphony of whines from your boy. Not wanting to overwhelm him, you rocked in and out slowly until he was practically begging for more. “Please, please, please, I can take it. You feel so good, Mommy.”

“You’re taking me so well, baby. I’m so proud of you. You’re perfect, absolutely perfect. Let me see you come, darling.” You picked up your pace, relishing in the moans he let out every time you bottomed out and swiped your thumb over the head of his cock. The sensation of being filled to the brim while you stroked his cock and murmured sweet nothings had him coming undone with a strangled shout. Never in his whole life had Spencer felt so full of pleasure, of warmth, of love.

Carefully, you eased out of him and quickly rid yourself of the harness. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” you murmured, reaching for the box of wipes by the bed and cleaning him up. He nodded, too blissed out to form a coherent thought let alone articulate exactly how much more than okay he was. “You feel ok to go get cleaned up in the bath?”

Spencer whined and pulled you in close, unwilling to separate for even one moment. “You’ll stay with me?” he asked quietly.

“Of course. I’m right here, sweet boy. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

----

Taglist: @thatsonezesty13 @newyorkaqua @rosienie

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#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mommy kink collection

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elena-reina · 3 years

Text

You’re Done - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: Can I get a bucky imagine where the reader messes up really badly on a mission, can she have fire powers, and bucky is there for her in the end. Maybe like a friends to lovers kind of vibe? Thank you! Love you!- Anon

Warnings: none

a/n: [For the sake of this imagine my bby Pietro is alive for his two seconds of fame ;)] There will be a pt 2. Idk when, but eventually.

“I need you all to lay low,” Steve’s voice spoke through the earpiece.

“Copy,” you along with the other Avengers said into the intercom in unison.

You have gone on many missions with the Avengers, however, this one was different. Most of the ones you’ve experienced were small track and point ones. Nothing like this where it was a life or death situation.

You had to capture one of the men named Azazel. He had vital information that was going to help the team out on a lead for the rest of the mission. You were a powerful asset to the team. The only issue was how much you underestimate yourself.

For weeks you had been training your powers and learning to keep them under control. There had been many incidents where you accidentally caused the sprinklers to go off at the tower for reasons we shall not speak of. But let’s just say they were all minor setbacks in your progress.

The team loved having you go on missions with them, but most of the time Steve wanted you to stay back at the tower and continue to train. You underestimate your powers and It took you many days to convince him to bring you on this specific mission. It wasn’t until you had a one on one with him that he finally gave in.

You had all the weight of the world on your shoulders. However, the adrenaline masked all the doubts running laps throughout your mind.

“I can see four of the guards standing by the door.. and I think a couple more on the other side of the building,” Wanda said slyly moving around the compound unseen.

“Could you at least try to make an effort to stay hidden,” Tony groaned, maneuvering around in the sky. “I can literally see your red head from here.”

“Listen Stark, you’d be caught long before I am,” Wanda smirked, sassily.

You softly chuckled to yourself.

“No, you listen Maximoff-” Tony began before Pietro cut him off.

“In all honesty, you’re not that witty Tony. Sorry, not sorry.”

“You know I don’t appreciate this slander on my title,” Tony mumbled.

While they bickered back and forth, you noticed one of the guards waving at the men to go inside the building. You ducked down when one of the men gave one last look around the area and went inside.

“They’re going inside,” you announced.

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do,” Steve commenced going over the mission.

After listening to the entirety of Steve’s plan, you felt like there were some flaws in it. Naturally, you had your own plan in your head. Steve wanted everyone to go inside unnoticed and basically move around incognito. You, on the other hand, wanted to do it the old-fashioned way and all gang up together because there were more of you guys than there were of them. Or so you thought.

Sneaking inside the facility, you hid behind boxes and waited as Wanda and Pietro were the first ones to begin. Wanda would use her powers to mess with the men’s minds and make them fall asleep while Pietro would move their bodies to somewhere outside away from the rest of the Avengers. The building was old and looked like it could fall apart at any given moment.

Everything was going smoothly until one of the men, who had gone unnoticed by the rest of you, punched you harshly having you slam into the wall, sending an immediate alert to the people inside.

Clint and Natasha took awareness of this immediately and rushed by your side, but it was like the man had a vendetta on your head. He was overpowering all three of you and none of you understood how. Everyone was in full combat mode, and soon enough, almost a full army of them was coming out in groups. There was more of them than you thought there were.

Your fire powers were flowing out of your hand as you disintegrated any daggers or weapons they would try and throw your way. By this point, you were growing irritated and were having enough of this nonsense.

“Tell us where Azazel is!” you shouted holding one of the men up by the collar of his shirt. He smirked and pulled out a machine from the back of his pocket. You looked at it confused until you noticed a timer on it fastly counting down.

Your eyes widened.

“There’s a bomb in here!” you shouted into your earpiece.

“We’ll get this under control. Y/N, Bucky, and Clint get everyone out now!” Tony responded, already using his suit to find and defuse the bomb.

You were about to respond when you caught something out of the peripheral vision of your eye. You saw a door that was left cracked opened and decided to do a little digging for yourself. Looking around at the Avengers busy, you slipped away and entered the room. Silently closing the door, you moved behind a big crate to remain hidden.

Inside, you noticed a man dressed in all black with his back to you. You bet this was Azazel.

“Y/N, where are you!” Steve yelled into the earpiece.

You knew that you had to respond to Steve, but doing that would compromise your position. Without saying anything, you made a B-line towards the man.

“HEY!” you shouted, as who you assumed was Azazel, frighteningly looked up. He pushed boxes of glass out of his way and started to run. You weren’t going to leave him that easily and every place he tried to dodge into, you would blast up with your powers.

Picking up speed, you threw a firebolt at him hitting him in the back causing him to fall to the ground. You slowly sauntered over to him, a small triumphant grin on your face.

“Tell me what you know!” you fiercely shouted. Feeling bold, you had him exactly where you wanted. However, that confidence you once had faltered as his face then fell into a smirk. He pulled out a cylindrical device with a red button on top of it.

“Y/N! Do you copy!” Steve yelled again.

Ignoring Steve, you quickly extending your hand out to grab the device out of his hands but instead, you accidentally triggered your powers and blasted out an uncontrollable flame you’ve never seen or done before.

Azazel let out an excruciating scream of agony and the device slipped out of his hand. He was being burned alive.

“Oh no no no! What’s happening?!” you freaked, trying to get your powers under control. The flames emerged from your hands and began to consume everything within its path. It had a mind of its own and it was determined to burn everything to ashes.

Your screams rang throughout the room and Tony busted through the wall, frantically looking around. His eyes landed on you and the fire coming out of your palms.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Y/N STOP!” Tony yelled, wanting to get close enough to grab you, but the heat coming from the flames was too much, even for his suit. If anyone came close, they would have gotten burned as well. Pietro followed suit next to him.

You tried to stop them and bent down trying to grab onto Azazel, but this only made matter worse. It wasn’t until you felt a knife slice through the side of your arm, distracting you, that the fires coming from your hand died down.

You brought your hands up to your face horrified. His face and body were burned beyond recognition. You slumped to your knees and grabbed his lifeless corpse with one of your hands. His blood pooled out of his burnt clothes, coating your hands in warm crimson.

Looking further down his arm, you grabbed the device that was now barely holding together and looked at the odd wiring.

He was bluffing. It was a fake only to intimidate you.

“The bomb is going to go off! Everyone out-”

An ear-shattering explosion began to erupt throughout the facility before he could finish. For the most part, everyone was already on their way to the outside.

Pietro took awareness of you being out of it and quickly scooped you up into his arms and sped out of the exploding building. All of you had made it just in time before the entire building was already engulfed in flames. Pietro safely placed you down and grabbed onto your shoulders.

“Hey, are you alright?”

You nodded still shaken up.

“We almost fucking had him!” Tony exclaimed frustrated. “Let’s go.”

The ride back was silent. You had ruined the whole mission. You were mentally beating yourself up with a war inside your brain.

Why couldn’t you have just listened?

Back at the Avenger’s Tower, Steve ordered you to meet him at the office. You knew that whatever was coming wasn’t going to be good.

“Y/N, do you realize what you’ve just done?” Steve groaned, angrily placing his hands on the table in front of him. You looked around the room and at your hands that were covered in Azazel’s dried blood. You didn’t know that you were being set up. As a matter of fact, you didn’t even know that your powers had that much potential.

“I.. I didn’t mean to I was just-” you whispered, backing up to create some distance between you and Steve.

“You ruined the whole mission, Y/N! I told you that you were not ready!” he snapped, making your head jerk towards his direction. You opened your mouth to form words, but nothing came out. If you would have just had a moment to collect your thoughts, you would be better at articulating yourself.

“If you would just let me explain myself!” you shouted growing frustrated with overwhelming emotion, you felt your body getting hot. Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to calm the fire inside of you, quite literally.

Steve placed his hands on his hips and disapprovingly shook his head.

“You’re done.”

Your chest felt like it plummetted twenty feet underground. Despite the fire running through you, you felt your body grow cold. You had been training countless nights just to get where you are. There were so many things you wanted to say, while at the same time, you had nothing to say.

What was there to say anyway?

“What?” you managed to breathe out.

“Just go, Y/N.”

Steve then walked past you, leaving you standing in the middle of the complex. You clenched your fists and turned on your heel. You needed to get out. To blow off some steam before you burned the whole building down.

You rushed down the stairs, down every elevator, and all the way down to the empty field in front of the Avenger’s Tower near the aircraft. You felt the flames wanting to come out of your hands, but you tried your best to suppress them. Frantically looking around, you finally spotted a metal storage container.

Running inside, you shut the door and dropped to your knees finally letting the flames ignite. You cried your feelings out, this time not holding back. The flames engulfed the entire space.

A small part of you was fearful about not being able to contain it, but you knew you had to let it go. No one in this compound listens to you. It’s like they just want to keep you here to stay out of the way.

Was it for your benefit or theirs?

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts, but you didn’t bother to turn around. Not that it would have mattered at this point. After releasing your emotions, you took a cold shower to cool off before coming back to your room at the Tower. The tower seemed empty. There was a stale stillness in the air that could be cut with a knife.

You couldn’t help but feel that everything was your fault. If you had just been able to stop underestimating yourself, maybe things would have happened differently. Or if you would have maybe just trained a bit more.

The door clicked signifying that someone was entering your room.

“Hey, mind if I come in?”

You turned around, lifting your gaze as your eyes fell on the handsome soldier before turning back around to face the window. There was nothing to be said. You and Bucky had always had this unspoken bond since the day you joined the Avengers. Whenever you were having a bad day, he was always there to talk about it and vice versa. Was there more underneath the surface than the two of you would like to acknowledge? Yes.

You watched as the trees flowed in the wind looking as peaceful as it could be, the opposite of how you were feeling.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He closed the door behind him and trudged next to you. He pulled up a chair and sat down, mirroring your actions by gazing outside the window.

“What’s there to talk about?” you dismissed.

“No one is blaming you,” he said, leaning back in the seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Oh really,” you mumbled, “I’m sure Steve would beg to differ.”

Gossip spreads like wildfire throughout the Tower and there was no way that anyone was going to be oblivious to what was going on. There was no easy way to sugar coat it. You fucked up and Steve knew this would happen. It’s plain and simple.

“Steve is just upset right now and will get over it. The mission was already a work in progress, to begin with. I don’t know exactly what went down, but your powers are stronger than you realize and with just a little bit more training-”

“Stop!” you shouted, standing up. Your chair fell behind you with a loud thud. Bucky jerked his head at your outburst but remained seated. He knew you were overwhelmed and wasn’t going to invalidate how you were feeling.

“No one listens to me! I was doing what I thought was right! I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was too late. It doesn’t matter how much ‘training’ I do, no one is there to help me!”

“And you have every right to feel that way. No one is blaming you, things happen. We live and we learn. It a part of life, Y/N. I recognize that I will never understand the struggles you are going through, but I can try.”

“Don’t patronize me, Buck,” you frowned. Truth be told, you just wanted someone to appreciate you.

This time, he stood up and placed both hands on either side of your shoulders. “I’m not. Look, how about we go out tonight to get your mind off things. Then, when you’re feeling better, we can discuss a plan to talk it out with the rest of the team.”

“They’re not going to listen to me.”

“I’ll make sure they listen, okay? Now, go get dressed before I dress you myself. You’ve got thirty minutes,” he winked pulling you in for a hug, to which you gladly returned.

Maybe you do need a night out.

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castthy-nightedcolour · 3 years

Text

One-Shot: One Good Day (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the notes as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Aziraphale

Warnings and Tags: anxiety, depression, social Anxiety, implied S/H, swearing, aziraphale loves your soul, mysterious soft guardian angel breaks into your home, soft comfort

Summary: life hasn’t been going great for you. every single thing which could have gone wrong in the last week has gone wrong and you’re reaching breaking point. miraculously, something appears in your room to guide you to safety.

Word Count: 2459

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/76720253

You stumbled through your front door, the handle of your shopping bag snapping in half as your foot made it over the threshold. You watched blankly as the bottle of lemonade rolled down the hallway and the other groceries poured themselves all over the floor, rain water dripping from your hood down your face. As you slammed the door shut behind you, the smell of disinfectant rose up from the place where the groceries were sitting and you quickly realised that there’d been a leak.

Deep breath in.

The breath makes it halfway into your diaphragm before it stumbles into a sob.

Burning in your throat as you pull down your hood and hear the water shake off onto the floor.

One wrong thing in your life always managed to form into two wrong things, then before you knew it you were drowning in a cascade of completely wrong things. Everything in the past week had gradually been getting more difficult and you now felt that if you couldn’t even go to the corner shop without everything going horribly wrong, there wasn’t much point in leaving the house at all.

Work was hell; customers were rude, you were in constant pain from walking the shop floor and folding and re-folding items that people threw onto piles, and your manager seemed to hate you more with each passing day. Because you were always working, you felt incredibly isolated from any of your friends, and your unsociable free hours prevented you from messaging anyone in complete fear that you were taking up their time.

Everything just felt dull. A pressure behind the eyes, numb hands, dead legs, a complete inability to produce even one tear. You hadn’t felt this bad in a long time and you could feel yourself spiralling quickly towards catastrophe.

You stepped over the pile of groceries on the floor and edged towards your bedroom, completely ready to fall down backwards onto your bed and think yourself into a pain of solace. Water was still falling from your coat down onto your floor, leaving a trail behind you before slowly pooling together on the lino.

As you pushed your bedroom door open, you ran your right hand along your left arm, collecting freezing cold water on the tips of your fingers and in the palm of your hand. You took this hand to your face in an attempt to feel something on a face which felt like brick.

Not cold enough. Try harder.

A swift slap to your cheek had you letting out a small gasp.

Still not good enough.

You lunged towards the bed with the full intention of collapsing onto it and never getting up again. As you propelled yourself forwards, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, one with a gentle but commanding touch. Although you stopped dead in your tracks, you weren’t at all scared or concerned about this other presence in the room. There was absolutely no hint of threat at all. Slowly, you turned your head to look at the hand, glancing up the arm which was clad in a pale beige overcoat. A warm voice whispered from behind you,

‘Now, don’t tell me you were going to get into that lovely warm bed in this coat?’

There was no other way to describe the voice but hug-like, embracing the dull ache in you and injecting just a hint of warmth. You didn’t reply, but slowly turned fully to get a glance at whoever the man smelling vaguely of cinnamon was.

He is almost luminous.

One hand resting lightly on your shoulder with the other holding the rogue bottle of lemonade with support from his underarm.

You took one glance at the fluffy white blonde curls on his head and immediately branded him as something ethereal, the rosy pink cheeks and beaming smile were just more evidence for this. You shivered under his light grasp, partially because you were freezing and partially because you were very overwhelmed by the sight in front of you. If this was as you thought, a visit from an angel, then surely your life would never be the same.

Or maybe you’d died?

As if reading your mind, the glowing being jumped in to reassure you.

‘I know you may be wondering what’s happening here but fear not, I’m here with good intentions. In fact, they’re the only intentions I can possibly have.’

You zoned out slightly listening to his honey soaked voice, your eyes practically glazing over at the idea of whoever this radiant being was being present in your flat which had become a complete black hole over the past week. You struggled to form any kind of sentence to articulate this, but eventually came out with one word.

‘Y/N.’ You breathed, immediately feeling like an idiot for saying it. The angel didn’t hold the same opinion on this matter, though.

‘Well, that is a simply beautiful name. It’s an honour to be in your presence, Y/N.’ He spoke. You couldn’t quite fathom why he was being so nice to you and an ominous, inky black cloud inside you was attempting to convince you that this was all some joke.

Noticing fear creeping into your eyes, the angel tightened the grip on your shoulder in reassurance.

‘It’s okay, I promise. I’m Aziraphale , I’m here to look after you for as long as you need.’ The voice, like nectar, coated your very being in what felt like love.

The angel placed the lemonade on the floor and then very slowly pulled your coat off your shoulders, constantly looking at your face for any hint of discomfort. All you could do was stand there like a lemon, a look of disbelief plastered on your face as Aziraphale lifted the coat and threw it behind him, with it seemingly now miraculously dry. As you leaned to try and peek behind him, he looked concerningly at your shivering body and took a step towards you, running one of his hands down each of your arms.

You could suddenly feel heat radiating off him as you realised that all of your clothes were sopping wet, it wasn’t just your coat. The storm outside had hit just as you’d left to go the shop, which was just the icing on the cake of the perfectly played out horrible circumstances of the week.

As the hands were run down your arms, you noticed everything become dry and fluffy, like you were suddenly dressed in fleece, but they were definitely still your clothes.

Some kind of miracle?

The reassuring voice of Aziraphale returned to the room, echoing off every wall.

‘There, now I think that’s a lot better. Won’t you sit down, Y/N?’ He gestured towards your bed and immediately, you fell backwards onto it, following his instructions as though they were law. Sitting up, you peered up at him as he moved to sit down next to you, a comforting smile still on his face. The feeling of safety was so overwhelming for you, especially compared to the chaos swimming around your body only five minutes prior. Instinctually, you kicked off your shoes, curling your legs up to the bed and sitting cross legged, turning to face the angel. You weren’t sure how to make conversation with the ethereal, it wasn’t exactly a day to day occurrence, but you ran with the situation.

‘So… well… wow I guess. This is… well it’s…. oh my god sorry, oh GOD I shouldn’t be saying God should I, not around you. I couldn’t have done this more wrong, could I?’ As the words trickled out your mouth, the familiar sense of embarrassment began to worm its way back into your soul, overriding whatever comfort Aziraphale had placed there previously. You were slightly shocked to glance at his face and notice the smile still plastered on it.

‘Please, lovely Y/N, there’s no need to apologise. Say whatever you need to say, I’m here to listen. I’m all yours.’ He beamed.

Something still isn’t adding up. There isn’t a chance that someone would be this nice to you out of choice, this must be a joke.

With your thoughts beginning to spiral again, your breathing was working its way into something between a pant and one long, continuous breath. Aziraphale noticed this sudden change, and placed one hand on your back and began to very gently rub.

‘Shhhhh, it’s okay now. What’s going on here? What’s happened?’ His voice rang like a bell in your head. Your breathing came to a complete halt.

No one’s every asked you that before, have they?

The angel realised that your ribs were no longer rising and falling. All he had to do was say the words ‘please breathe’ before you took one big sigh. Glancing down at the floor, you weren’t really sure how to even answer him. Did you mention your manager? Or was he more bothered about the fact that you’d barely eaten for three days, and the only shopping that you had managed to get yourself was now doused in disinfectant? Maybe he’d be able to help with your missed messages and emails.

Then again, with 43 notifications looming over you, maybe not.

As you lifted your gaze, all of your debilitating troubles culminated into two words.

‘I’m fine!’ A false chipper tone rang through your response as the angel furrowed his brow.

‘Well, now, and please don’t think me rude here Y/N, but I think that may be just a teeny-weeny lie.’

You both sat staring at each other for a few seconds as you let that sit with you. Interestingly, you swore that you could see sunlight on his face despite the fact that it was absolutely pissing it down outside. Eventually, you worked up the courage to respond.

‘Well, yeah. A little bit maybe but on the whole, I’m okay! It’s just my manager is really onto me at the moment which means that I can’t really concentrate so I’m having to stay long hours at work…’

As you spoke, the chain of events spilled out your mouth in a fountain of truth. You got to the point where you couldn’t stop talking, laying out an entire map of problems for Aziraphale to navigate his way across. By the time you were talking about the build-up of notifications on your phone, tears were running down your cheeks, with Aziraphale swiftly reaching across to wipe them away. He watched on as you spoke, an almost pained look in his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see a human soul so torn up, especially because of other humans.

With words falling out of you so easily, both you and the angel were a little taken aback when you stopped yourself mid-sentence.

‘I’ve been coming home and I’ve just been sitting here and thinking, and thinking before eventually-‘.

Aziraphale looked as though he expected you to carry on for about a second, until he grasped exactly what you were talking about. He couldn’t help but getting choked up at the idea of such a beautiful soul being driven to destroying the vessel which was carrying it, and this was all he needed to hear. With both force and care, he threw his arms around your shoulders, allowing your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

‘I’m going to sort this all out for you, Y/N. I can’t bear to think of you being so unhappy when you deserve the world, and everything beyond it.’

Before you could even protest with any idea that he may have been exaggerating, you felt a whimper leave your body which felt like it had been sitting there for centuries. Being held, being listened to, being cared for was something so alien to you, so overwhelming.

As you sat still in the angel’s grasp, you could physically feel worries lifting off your shoulders. You wondered for a moment how this was even possible, before remembering that you were spilling your problems out to an angel.

—

Turns out, Aziraphale really did sort it all out for you. A cheeky little rat infestation in the local shopping centre meant that the shop where you worked was forced to close for a few days, plus your manager had been taken out by a freak case of a rare tropical virus so they weren’t going to be able to leave their house for a couple of weeks.

Your fridge was fully stocked, every surface in your house was shining and a glass of lemonade complete with ice and a little slice of lemon was sitting on the side waiting for you when you returned from a bath which had driven every ache from your body. The angel was leaning against the fridge, reading a copy of Frankenstein which you’d forgotten that you even owned. You stood in the doorway of your kitchen in a fluffy robe, feeling a smile sit on your face for the first time in a while. The angel suddenly noticed your presence and glanced up, beaming at you.

‘Enjoying that?’ You asked, pointing your head towards the book. He held it up.

‘Takes a while to get going, doesn’t it?’ He responded, a quizzical look on his face. You giggled at this, slowly walking over to take the glass of lemonade. The angel watched on as you took a sip from it, the bubbles rising to your nose and making you sneeze. As you put the glass down, you fully turned to him.

‘Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything you’ve done for me.’

‘Oh, we’re not done yet my dear. I’m here for you until the end. Unfortunately one good day won’t be enough,’ he walked closer to you and grabbed both of your hands.

‘But it’s a brilliant place to start.’ He finished. You beamed up at him, but still with some concern sitting on your face.

‘What about when my manager gets better? I’m really not sure I can ever face them again, I-‘ Before you could begin catastrophising, the angel gently placed one finger on your lips. He then squeezed the hand entwined with his.

‘As I said, I’m here for you until the end. There’s many miracles for you, dear Y/N. Let’s just get through today, okay? We can battle tomorrow when it arrives. For now, I think that it’s time my food expertise should come out and that you should take a seat while I prepare the best meal of your life. Now, let’s see…’ He moved away from you, beginning to rummage in each cupboard and your fridge for ingredients. Naturally, you seemed to drift towards your sofa, as if being led.

Must be a miracle. For an angel, he sure can tempt you.

#good omens #good omens fic #aziraphale x reader #reader insert #comfort fic #aziraphale loves your soul #guardian angel #gender neutral reader #good omens one shot #good omens x reader

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stylesluxx · 4 years

Text

waiting – p.lahote

[warnings: poorly written angst and like one swear]

summary: in which y/n is tired of waiting for paul | requested!

word count: 2,688

masterlist

Paul moved in next door when you were eight, so you can't say that you knew him your whole life but it felt like it. You two were inseparable. If people saw Paul, they saw you. The only time you two might be separated is when you're in your respective homes, but even then Paul stayed at your house a lot.

When your parents went through their divorce, Paul was your shoulder to cry on. His parents went through a divorce and that's how he ended up in La Push. He knew the sadness you were feeling and was always there. He's the main reason you wanted to stay with your dad, so you'd still be neighbors. Your mom was only moving to Seattle but you didn't think you could be away from Paul.

While your parents were separating and settling everything, you two would have movie nights, dinner dates, walks, literally anything that would distract you from whatever was happening at home. He was always the one to initiate it and he was so thoughtful. He was your anchor.

And when he was getting into more and more arguments with his dad, you'd sneak him in so he could sleepover and clear his head. Paul was always easily angered but it just got worse as he grew up, so the arguments got more and more intense. The fights became so frequent that your dad eventually found out you were sneaking him in but he never questioned it, just told you that you didn't have to sneak him in anymore. And if it was a school night, Paul would leave early the next morning, so that he could get ready and walk back to your house since you were his ride.

It was one of those days. He left around 6:30 to go shower and eat but was back at your house at 7:30 on the dot.

"You okay? You look sick," You asked him.

His face was red but he wasn't angry, and his eyes were low as if he were tired.

"I don't feel good. I don't feel sick but I just feel weird. I saw my dad and just I don't know... felt disgusted. I don't know. Let's just go," He tried to articulate but failed.

He trudged over to your car and got in the passenger seat. You followed and got in the driver's side, starting the car but not pulling off right away. You sat for a second and looked over at him.

"Do you want to stay home? I'm sure Dad wouldn't mind," You asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"No, I'm okay," He huffed and looked out his window.

You hesitantly nodded before putting your seatbelt on and pulling off.

Once you got to the school, you both got out of the car and grabbed your bags. As you walked toward the building, you wanted to reach for him and wrap an arm around his waist like you normally did but decided against it.

You went to your lockers and then met back in homeroom, where he immediately rested his head on the desk. And within seconds he was quietly snoring, making you chuckle and shake your head.

The rest of the day went by like this until you were in algebra. The other teachers had let Paul rest but this one wasn't having it with him today. He had been pestering Paul to wake up every ten minutes and you understood why but you also just wanted him to leave your friend alone; he was clearly having a rough day.

You were working on a problem when Paul shot up from his seat next to you and started to make his way to the door. Startled, you didn't say anything and just settled with the thought that maybe he was going to grab some water. But the teacher wasn't going to let him slip away that easy. You sighed and started packing up you and Paul's things; you knew this probably wouldn't end well.

"Mister Lahote, you can't just walk out of class," His words stopped Paul, whose hand was on the doorknob.

"Who's gonna stop me?" Paul challenged and turned back to face the teacher who was looking beyond awestruck.

"Paul, relax," You spoke up and quickly walked over to him, his bag on one shoulder and your bag on the other.

"No, he's been bothering me all-"

"Okay, let's go," You cut him off and dragged him out of the classroom.

You gave the teacher an apologetic look but caught the eye of Jared Cameron. He wasn't someone you'd talk to on a regular but he also wasn't someone you avoided. You looked away, assuming he was just another nosy classmate, nothing more.

"Hey what's wrong with you? You can't just snap at teachers like that!" You scolded Paul but he just rolled his eyes as if he were being reprimanded by a parent.

"I need to go," He said and took his bag from your shoulder.

"We only have two more periods left," You tried to reason. "We can hang out in the library for the rest of algebra-"

"I need to go."

His voice was solid and unwavering so you knew there was no arguing with him.

"Alright, I'll take you. Come on."

You took the risk and reached to hold on to his wrist as you walked out of the building. He didn't protest and only pulled away once you got to the car.

"My house or yours?" You asked him once you got close to home.

"Mine."

You simply nodded and pulled into his driveway. It was weird that he didn't want to go hang out at your house but today wasn't the day to question him.

"I'll be back after school," You told him and watched as he got out the car.

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it before shutting the door behind him and walking into his house.

A small smile graced your face as you drove back to the school and carried through for the rest of the day. You thought it meant that he'd be okay and maybe he was already starting to feel better. You didn't think it meant he'd disappear for weeks.

You arrived back at his house after school, knocking on the door and ringing the doorbell feverishly but you never got a response.

"Alright well, I'll just leave your homework here then. See you tomorrow? Text me," You sighed and set the papers down.

You placed a rock on top of the papers so they wouldn't fly away and walked back to your car.

Maybe he was sleeping or maybe he went out. But his truck was there. It never crossed your mind that he was ignoring you, especially since you did nothing to him.

The next morning came and it was radio silence from Paul. It was 7:30 and he still wasn't at your house. Maybe he got into a fight with his dad and was running late. But he always texted you when he was going to be late, no matter what. If he was a minute late, you'd get a text. But today you got nothing. It was 7:40 when you texted him, saying you'd leave with or without him at 7:50.

You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt since he had a rough day yesterday but it was hard when he didn't communicate with you.

At 8:00, you stood up from the couch and turned the tv off. You walked to the door and snatched your bag from off the floor and stormed out the house, slamming the door shut behind you.

If there was anything you hated, it was your time being wasted and your kindness being taken for granted.

Your spot was still empty when you got to school but you didn't see Paul's truck. So he must've still been home. And Paul wasn't the type to come late. If he was already an hour behind, he just wasn't going.

It was weird spending a month looking for someone you were usually attached at the hip to. For a month, he wasn't in school and his truck never moved from his driveway. You tried texting and calling but the texts never delivered and you were always sent straight to voicemail. And you didn't want to ask his dad where he was simply because you didn't like him so at this point you didn't even know if he was alive.

Friday morning, Paul walked through the main doors, Jared Cameron by his side, laughing up a storm and looking smug.

You wanted to confront him, you really did, but seeing him so happy halted you where you stood. After seeing how miserable he was the last time you saw him, you didn't want to bother him. And if he had to be away from you to be happy, you'd accept it, even if you were stuck in a void.

You never really sat down and processed how Paul's absence affected you. But seeing him, everything was starting to crumble. He left and it was so abrupt and unwarranted. You questioned if it was something you did even though you knew you didn't do anything. Maybe you weren't there for him in the way he needed you to be. The way Jared supposedly was. You were angry, sad, and confused but at the same time, you were relieved. It was good to see him safe but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were unwanted.

For a month it felt like you were drifting away, here but not really. And now it felt as if you were sinking and quickly.

You pulled your hood on over your head and slammed the locker shut. You walked to homeroom, weaving in and out of people so you could get a spot in the back of the classroom.

Sitting in your usual spot was no longer an option since it seemed like Paul was avoiding you at all costs. And if he wants to play that game, you can play it ten times better.

Avoiding Paul was easy since he seemed he wasn't even worried about you. But avoiding all the eyes of your nosy classmates was a task itself.

At lunch, you couldn't even stay in the lunchroom. It was as if everyone was talking about you and Paul. You heard a few theories about why you weren't close anymore, all of which were silly. You overhead people saying that you finally confessed your feelings for him and he rejected you so now you're avoiding each other. But that one wasn't nearly as popular as the theory that Paul ditched you to go join a gang and do drugs.

It was all so tiring and eye-roll worthy, so you got up, tossed the food that you barely touched away, and walked out the lunchroom, not bothering to look back at all the eyes you knew were on you.

You started toward the lobby for the school, deciding it was time to go home. You should've figured it was going to be a bad day once you saw that Paul's truck wasn't in the driveway when you left for school.

You were halfway through the parking lot when you were stopped by someone calling your name.

"For fuck's sake," You mumbled to yourself and turned around.

It was a senior named Zander. While Paul was still your friend, he made it very clear how much he didn't like the older boy. He always just said he gives off weird vibes whenever you asked why he didn't like him. But now that you're standing in front of him, you completely understood what Paul meant.

"Hey," He said as he jogged toward you and when he stopped you finally got a good look at him.

His brown hair was styled into a quiff and his brown eyes pierced into with fake concern. Paul's eyes always matched his intentions, he was never one to fake anything. And despite Paul ghosting you, you were looking for him to come and save you.

"I'm sorry about what happened with Lahote," He continued.

At first, you were shocked by his boldness but you decided it'd be best to play dumb and mess with him.

"What happened with him?" You asked and titled your head to play the confused role perfectly.

"He like ditched you and joined a gang," He spoke as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.

"He ditched me? It's weird that you know more about my life than I do," You were being sarcastic but the boy in front of you just wasn't getting it.

"Well, enough about him. I was wondering if you'd let me take you on a date."

You were truly dumbfounded now. The jump from gossip to dates gave you whiplash. In what world did he think that that was a good segway?

"Uh... I'm actually really busy. I just started a new job that I'm already running late to so I'll see you-"

"I've been wanting to ask you but you've always seemed so attached to Paul like you couldn't breathe without him. Maybe if you started talking to other people, you wouldn't be so dependent on him," He scoffed.

"Are you, like, kiddi-"

"Paul!"

You sighed at the sound of another voice and looked over Zander's shoulder. Paul was storming down the steps of the school with his new best friend in tow.

"What part of 'no' don't you understand?" He hostilely questioned Zander, getting in his face.

"And look who it is. The boy that ditched his only friend to go do drugs. Honestly, I don't think you have any say in what she does," Zander bit back, not stepping back from a fuming Paul.

Now that the boy was standing next to you, you noticed how different he looked. He grew a few inches and now towered over you. He was muscular, not scrawny like he was a few weeks ago. And if your eyes weren't deceiving you, he had a tattoo that was peeking out of the short sleeve.

Paul's face was now a bright red and his entire body was shaking profusely. You've seen Paul angry but you've never seen him like this.

"Paul?" You called out and looked up at his face. "Paul, are you okay?"

"Paul, not here,” Jared tried to get through to him.

You moved yourself to stand in between the two boys since you saw that neither was going to back down.

"Paul," You spoke calmly and looked up at his eyes.

He looked down at you, his eyes meeting yours, and he relaxed almost instantly. He stopped shaking and his face was back to a gentle composition.

"Freaks," Zander mumbled and walked by to the school.

You took a step back from Paul now that you had space behind you.

"You okay?" You asked, your eyes never leaving his.

"Y-yeah-"

"Great," You nodded and moved to go around him and to your car. You didn't want to talk to him any more than you needed to. What did you have to talk about unless he was apologizing?

"Y/N, wait!" Paul objected and grabbed your arm, pulling you back to face him.

"Wait for what? Don't you think I've done enough waiting, Paul? I waited around for you for far too long. And now you only want to admit I exist when some other guy wants to talk to me? We're not friends anymore. You made that very clear. I've waited for you but now I'm done," You ranted before looking back at Jared. "Good luck with... whatever."

You pulled your arm out of his grip and stalked to the car just as the rain started.

"Wasn't even supposed to rain," You mumbled to yourself and pulled out of the parking spot.

As you drove out of the parking lot, you watched as Paul stood there, mouth agape. You watched as he got smaller and until you eventually didn't see him anymore.

Now he'd know how it felt to be left stranded and waiting.

[AN: I don’t think I’m gonna write a part two for this just because it’d be super cliche and I try to avoid stuff like that lol. but shoutout to the anon that requested this because this inspired me to write; I’ve been trying to write for like a month or two now but like I’ve been stuck. and also to the anon that sent the embry request, I didn’t forget about you ! xoxo]

#stylesluxx #paul lahote #twilight #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #wolf pack imagine #paul lahote angst #Paul Lahote blurb #paul lahote fluff #twilight blurb

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rin-00 · 3 years

Text

The Argument - Kieu My x Fatou

How the hell did they get to this point? In the past couple of days Fatou and her have been out of sync. First, their schedules haven’t matched up so they couldn’t see each other as often as they needed to. Then, when they did see each other it seemed like the skater girl was withholding information from her. Kieu My could practically reach out and feel the invincible walls the other girl has put up around her. Walls that she thought didn’t apply to her since she was her girlfriend after all. Every “How are you’s” are either met with a shrug, a vague answer, or a lie. She thought they were past this but apparently not.

They have been lying down on Kieu My’s bed for the past hour, watching a documentary on Netflix about sea life. If anyone were to walk in the room right now they would probably assume they were two awkward friends instead of a couple that has been together for almost a year because of the literal physical distance between them. Usually when they watch movies together, or are even in the same room together, they always have to be in each other’s orbit. Even if it was just pinkies touching. There was never more than just a thumb’s sized distance between the two. But right now? Right now there is about a foot of space between her and Fatou. A foot that manages to feel like a mile. The other girl is staring blankly at the laptop screen and Kieu My can tell that her mind is somewhere else because she herself has been staring at Fatou’s side profile for about 20 minutes now and she has yet to notice. If this was a regular day, Fatou would have turned to her with a warm smile and a slight blush painting her cheeks and teased Kieu My about how she couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. Instead there’s no smile on the girl’s face. All Kieu My sees are furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw. She wants to ask what’s wrong. In fact she has been asking for the past couple of days but she sensed a slight irritation from Fatou the last time she asked and she didn’t want to push. But she’s worried that if she doesn’t push then the distance between them will grow bigger and bigger.

Reaching over, Kieu My paused the film and turned her whole body she would be facing the other girl, “We need to talk.”

She hears Fatou let out an irritated huff, “I know what you’re going to ask, Kieu My. And I promise you I’m fine.”

She had a feeling this was going to be a long night. In fact she was wondering when this moment would come. Her and Fatou have been in a relationship for a while now and they had yet to argue (aside from the time outside her apartment complex) and she knew it would come around eventually. Every couple argues. She read somewhere that it’s part of maintaining a healthy relationship and with her and Fatou having so many differences in how they deal with conflict, she knew that the moment would definitely come. But that doesn’t mean she’s looking forward to it.

“Ok. I’ll believe your lie for now and accept that you’re fine. But something is obviously bothering you. So, what is it?”

Fatou scratches the side of her head and scrunches her nose. How cute. No, wait, Kieu My thought, now is not that the time for her to find Fatou adorable. She needs to put her foot down and tell Fatou that keeping her out of the loop isn’t okay. She’ll tell her she looks adorable once they’ve made up because she has a feeling argument might bubble over to a fight. She also has her own thoughts and feelings she has repressed and pushed aside in order to make Fatou feel comfortable. The insecure nights spent awake wondering if she was the reason the other girl has been so distant. The angry rants to Zoe about how she deserves transparency. The gut wrenching feeling that came with the thought that maybe Fatou was going to end everything.

“Kieu My, please, I really don’t want to talk about it. Okay?” Fatou stands up and walks over to the other side of the room to pace back and forth. Her fingers nervously wringing together.

What felt like a mile of distance now feels like a whole block and Kieu My has to swallow the lump in her throat before speaking, “No. not okay. You have been so distant the past week and I gave you your space. I asked and when you shut me off I didn’t push because I wanted you to come to me. I wanted you to have the space you needed. But, it seems like you’re not making any effort to open up.”

“Maybe I don’t want to open up. Maybe this is something I can figure out myself.”

“Well,” Kieu My said while walking over to the opposite side of the room. The distance between them now expanding as well as her voice level rising. “maybe I can help. I want to help you, Fatou.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

A simple sentence but it managed to open up everything inside Kieu My, “I know you didn’t ask for my help! You didn’t ask for anything! You’ve just been pouting and getting pissed off and going back to being sad for the past couple of days! At the very least, you should be able to trust me enough to be transparent with me.”

“This is something I can handle on my own! I don’t need you to try and babysit me. I can handle being sad for a couple of days.”

“I’m not trying to babysit you, I want to help you. I can help fix whatever the problem is!”

“I don’t need you to fix anything! Why can’t you just be there next to me and let me feel what I need to feel. Sometimes people just need to feel down without a need for some type of solution!”

“What, so you’re planning on just ignoring what is very obviously bothering you until it washes away? You know that’s now how the world works.”

“I don’t need you to lecture me on how the world works, Kieu My. I don’t want you to fix anything. I don’t need you to know everything! I just need you to be next to me while I figure it out the way I need to figure it out!”

“Well, it sounds like you’re asking me to just sit aside and do nothing. If that’s the case, then fine. But at the very least I need you to be honest with me about what’s going on! Are you having second thoughts about us or something?”

“What?”

“Are you having second thoughts? Are you planning on breaking up with me? Because that’s what it feels like right now.”

“No...I’m...no..”

“Then whats the fucking problem? I’m your girlfriend! I deserve more than just shrugged shoulders and a snappy response when I ask you about your life.”

“It’s not a big deal...”

“Then tell me,” thanks to Kieu My’s long legs she only needed to take 5 steps before she’s right in front of the other girl. “Please.”

Fatou’s shoulders drop and with it the walls she had up, “I have to repeat the year.”

Kneeling down so the taller girl can look at her girlfriend in the eyes, Kieu My takes Fatou’s hands in hers and tightens her hold at the sight of the skater girl’s teary face, “What do you mean?”

“I tried everything. I took tutoring lessons, I went to therapy, I did the math exercises, I even spent extra hours after school doing extra credit but it still wasn’t enough. I’m not enough.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, I’m so embarrassed and ashamed of myself. This isn’t something you can fix, Kieu My. I fucked up. A Kieu My style studying session isn’t going to fix this.”

Opening up her arms, Kieu My takes hold of Fatou and immediately felt drops of tears hit her shoulder, “You didn’t fuck up. You did your best and that’s all that matters.”

“I’m sorry I was so distant,” Fatou presses a gentle kiss against Kieu My’s shoulder, “it’s just that when they told me that I have to repeat a year it’s like everything I did was for nothing. I started going back to bad habits like shutting you out. I shouldn’t have done that. I never want you to feel like I’m leaving because that’s one of the things I’m worried about.”

“You’re worried about me leaving?”

“I’m worried that when you’re off to college and I have to repeat a year that you will find someone better. Someone who doesn’t test your patience or is smarter.”

“Fatou..”, now sitting on the floor with Fatou in her lap, Kieu My took a moment to observe the girl. Find someone better? Than Fatou? Is that even possible? Kieu My has never been good with words. It was always Fatou who had the emotional intelligence in the relationship. She was the one who would leave notes with heartfelt words before leaving her house. She was the one who would randomly tell Kieu My why she loves her out of nowhere even in the middle of class. She was the one who knew what to say whenever she would have a fight with her parents. Hell, she was the one who managed to calm down Constantine and get through his thick head. Who else can do that? Not Kieu My. But she sure wishes she could, especially right at this moment. She wishes she can be as articulate as Fatou. She wishes she can find a way to say how much she means to her. How much it means to her whenever Fatou would just take a glance at her and immediately know what’s wrong and what would make her feel better. How much it means to her when Fatou would ask her about space or even something as mundane as her day working at the shop. How Fatou’s smile makes her heart stop. How Fatou’s voice makes life seem less chaotic. How she disliked the world a little less because they gave her the love of her life. But she can’t. So instead she tightens her hold on the smaller girl and kisses the top of her head.

“There’s nobody like you. What do you need from me, baby? What can I do to help you feel better?”

“I just need you to hold me right now.”

“Of course.”

A few moments of silence later Kieu My feels Fatou sit up right in order to look at her face to face, “I do trust you, you know. I trust you with all my heart. But, sometimes I feel like the only thing I do is lean on you. I can’t help but feel like I’m more than a burden than your girlfriend.”

“You’re not a burden. I want you to lean on me. I need you to. I need to feel you against me. I like knowing that you know I’m here for you the same way I know you’re there for me. I want you to feel loved, baby. Helping you is how I let you know that.”

“But, what if one day it’s too much? What if one day I end up messing everything up?”

“Fatou, I can never get enough of you. Like right now, you’re pressed up against me and you’re still not close enough.”

“I’m trying really hard to be the best I can be for you. And right now I feel like a failure.”

Kieu My sighs as her heart breaks at the other girl’s words. She leans forward to kiss Fatou on the lips before brushing away the tears on her cheeks.

“You’re amazing just the way you are right now.”

Feel free to leave your opinion in the comments as well as some fanfic ideas. ✨✨ this is very rough cuz I wrote it while waiting for my dog to poop.

#druck #fatou x kieu my #skam

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dwellordream · 3 years

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“…There is a real belief on behalf of a not insignificant subset of society that the medieval Church was a shadowy organisation dedicated solely to suppressing knowledge and scientific advancement. This is not true.

The Church was in all actuality the medieval period’s largest benefactor of scholars of all stripes. Initially, in the early medieval period much learning was focused in monastaries in particular. Because monks took a vow to eschew idleness, they were always looking for new ways to work for the greater glory of God, or whatever. Sometimes this took the form of doing manual labour to feed themselves, but as monasteries such as Cluny rose to prominence they did more and more work in libraries as well.

Monks copied and embellished manuscripts and kept impressive libraries. Sometimes this work took place inside what we call “scriptoria” where more than one scribe is working at a time. They saw themselves as charged with transmitting knowledge. A lot of that knowledge was, of course, pagan, because they were extremely into classical thinkers. They were also reading this work of course, and writing their own commentaries on it. Many of them took the medical texts and used them to set up hospitals within their monasteries, as we have talked about before.

Lest you think this is all one big sausage fest, women were also very much about that book life within nunneries. They also had their own scriptoria and were busy scribbling away, reading, writing, and thinking. If you wanted a life where you strove for new scholarly heights, odds were that in the early medieval period you did that inside a monastery on nunnery.

As the medieval period moved on, scholarship eventually moved out of the cloister and into cities when the medieval university was established. The first degree awarding institution to call itself a university was the University of Bologna established around 1088, though teaching had been going on there previously and students had been going to Bologna from at least the late tenth century. Second was the University of Paris, which was established in 1150. Again teaching had been happening there from much earlier, and at least 1045.

Medieval universities weren’t like universities now, in that they didn’t have established campuses or anything like that. They were, more or less, a loose affiliation of scholars who would provide lessons to interested students. The University of Paris, for example, described itself as “a guild of teachers and scholars” (universitas magistrorum et scholarium).

In Paris there were four faculties: Arts, Medicine, Law, and Theology. Everyone had to attend the Arts school first where they would be asked to learn the trivium, which was comprised of rhetoric, logic, and grammar. Basically that meant all undergrads spent their time learning to argue, which is how the whole Abelard thing comes about. Then if they wanted more they could go do medicine, law, or theology. Theology was considered the really crazy good stuff, as medieval theologians were sorta held up in the way we worship astrophysicists like Neil de Grasse Tyson (ugh) or Stephen Hawking now. But if you wanna be a dick and super modern about it and think that nothing is more important than science, you will note that medicine is there and actively pursued.

So what, what does all of this have to do with the Church not being suppressive? Well literally everyone, both scholars and students in a medieval university was a member of the clergy. That’s right. Are you a Christian and you wanna learn about medicine? Well you need to take holy orders first. So every single scientific advancement that came out of a medieval university (and there were plenty) was made by a man of the cloth.

The quick among you might have spotted that the thing about unis is that they were just for dudes though, and that is lamentably true. Women weren’t able to take the same orders as men, which means they were excluded from university training. Plenty of them got tutored if they were rich. (See poor Heloise who just had Abelard, like, do himself at her.) Otherwise there was plenty of sweet stuff going on in nunneries still and always, as the visionary natural biologist Hildegard of Bingen can attest. Monasteries were also still producing good stuff as Thomas Aquinas would be happy to let you know from the comfort of his Dominican order.

Given that all of this is the case, it’s hard to square that circle of “the Church is intentionally suppressing knowledge!” with the fact that everyone actively working on acquiring and furthering knowledge was a member of it and all. The Church was a welcoming home to scholars because it was a place where you got the time needed to contemplate subjects for a long time. If you have your corporeal needs taken care of, then you can go on to think about stuff. The Church offered that.

Having said all of this, there were, of course, plenty of Jewish and Muslim scholars at work in medieval Europe as well. The thriving Jewish communities of the medieval period had their own complex theological discussions about the Talmud, and produced their own truly delightful sexual and scientific theory that I will never tire of reading.

I’ve also talked at length about how Islamic medical advances were very much taken on board by medieval Christians in Europe. The fact that the Christians in holy orders beavering away at the medical faculties of universities across Europe were very much looking to a Muslim guy called Ibn Sinna for medical knowledge makes it hard to see the Church as an oppressive hater of all things non-Catholic. I’m just saying.

What else is at play here? Meh, society writ large. A lot of us in the English as a first language speaking world, and in northern Europe more generally have been raised in a Protestant context even if we ourselves are not Protestant. The thing about that is Protestants, famously, is that they are not huge fans of the Church. Big news, I know. In the Early Modern period this could get kinda wild, with things like the Great Fire of London being blamed on a nefarious “Papish plot”, for example, becoming a nice early example of a conspiracy theory. (That conspiracy theory was still written in Latin at the based of The Monument built to commemorate the fire until 1830 when the Catholics were officially emancipated in Britain. LOL.)

When the whole Enlightenment thing went down, generalised distrust of Catholics was then later compounded by the fact that “serious” thinkers aka Voltaire’s ridiculously basic self began to categorise the accumulation of knowledge specifically in opposition to religious thought. This is the old “Age of Reason” which we currently allegedly reside in, versus the “Age of Faith” idea. The Church as an overarching institution from the age of faith was therefore thought of as necessarily regressive, and it became assumed that it has always been actively attempting to thwart advantage for vaguely sinister reasons that are never fully articulated.

…Now, plenty of people were killed for witchcraft because they were doing medicine. The witch trials were a very real thing, and you know when and where they happened? In the modern period, and usually with a greater regularity in Protestant places. Witchcraft trials peak in general from about 1560-1630 which is the modern period. The most famous trials with the biggest kill count took place in Trier, Fulda, Basque, Wurtzburg, Bamberg, North Berwick, Torsåker and Salem. You know what was going on in most of the places? The Reformation. Witch trials sort of reflected various confessions of Christianity’s ability to effectively protect their flocks from evil. Did Catholics kill “witches” oh you bet your sweet ass they did. So did Protestants, and it was all fucking ugly.

What is important to note is that in countries where Catholicism was static witch trials were largely unheard of. Ireland, the Iberian Peninsula, and Italy, for example, just didn’t go in for them even though they were theoretically in the clutches of a nefarious Church bent on destroying all medical knowledge or something.

Now, none of this is to excuse the multifarious sins of the institutional Church over the years. In many ways my entire career as a medieval historian is a product of the fact that I was frustrated with the Church after 16 years of Catholic school. If you had to go to a High School named after the prosecutor in the Galileo trial, you might also end up devoting yourself to picking intricate theological fights with the Church, OK? (Yes, this is my origin story.)

And that brings us to the crux of the matter: if you make up a bunch of stuff that the Church did not do it makes it harder to critique them of the manifold things they actually did do and are doing right fucking now. We need to be critiquing the Magdalene Laundries; the international cover up of pedophile priests; signing an actual concordant with Nazi Germany; the regressive attitudes towards abortion and contraception that happen still, now, and endanger the lives of countless women. All of this is real, and calls for the strongest possible condemnation.”

- Eleanor Janega, “JFC, calm down about the medieval Church.”

#medieval #religion #education

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superfanficnatural · 3 years

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The Choice Part 11

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Christian Grey x Reader

Summary: Deciding to get over your crush on Dean, you find Christian, a mysterious billionaire that manages to split your heart into two. Finding out hidden truths, your decision becomes a hard one, who will you choose?

A/N: Hey guys! Been a while but here is the next chapter! A bit slow but this chapter was necessary in order to set some events in place. For everyone who’s stuck with this since the beginning and those who joined later on, thank you so much for reading!! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Slight fluff

Word Count: 2,767

Italics are thoughts

Masterpost

“I-” you didn’t even know where to start, but you found yourself leaning in, and he was reciprocating.

There was always this pull that you had when it came to Dean. No matter what he did, you always found yourself running right back into his arms. Was it weakness? Love? You couldn’t quite place it, like there was this unbreakable string that connected you to him that he always tugged on, bringing you ever closer. His face dimly lit up with the light of his room behind him, the slight bedhead, his perfectly pink plump lips; simply looking at him made all thoughts leave your mind. It had always scared you, not being able to think straight when you were around him, it almost always led to something happening. As you were only centimeters away from his lips, you caught yourself and softly put your hand on his chest to keep him at bay for the moment.

“There’s something you should know... about Christian,” you whispered.

He immediately recoiled, taking a step back and sighing angrily, “I don’t care about Christian! Is there no way that we can just spend 5 minutes without that douchebag’s name coming up?” he barked.

“Dean I understand your frustration but-”

“Do you, Y/N? Do you really understand how infuriating it is to see you with him?” his eyes were lit with fire and they were aimed right at you.

You looked at him for a moment, what you were going to tell him being put on the backburner for now, “You-” you began to chuckle unable to help it, falling into a fit of laughter, Dean becoming confused. “You’re telling me that I don’t understand how angry it makes you when seeing me with other guys?” your voice was progressively getting louder and louder. “How the fuck do you think I’ve felt for years every time you fucked some other random girl after picking them up at a bar? How do you think I felt when you had finally admitted your feelings for me, then I found you once again kissing another girl at the bar?!”

He was completely silent, shocked at your words, shocked at how he hadn’t realized that you were only doing to him what he had been doing to you for years. Your face was red and your body was heaving with your breaths, the pent up anger you had been holding in being unleashed all at once. His mouth had opened and closed several times, Dean trying to figure out what to say; but he was stumped.

You solemnly nodded your head, “That’s what I thought.”

You stepped out of the room and grabbed the door handle, just before closing it, “By the way, Leila Williams? The girl who tried to kill me? Yeah well Christian had actually hired her to seduce you and get you to fall out of love with me. How well that went right?” without so much as an explanation to the bombshell you had dropped on him, you had slammed the door and stomped away to your room.

Sam had poked his head out of his door, curious as to what the ruckus was but after one look at your face walking past him, he knew exactly what had happened and sighed, closing his door and going back inside. Once you had reached your room, you closed the door behind you and threw your phone onto your bed, pacing around a bit and running your fingers through your hair. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I thought that Christian was the perfect guy, but turns out he has a darkness to him that I hadn’t seen before. At first, you thought it was seductive, a deep carnal blackness he held back, only releasing it when he felt the need to do so. It excited you, everytime you were with him you were secretly hoping that he would claim you, unleashing it to swallow you whole. However, looking at it now, it was much more than that. Instead of claiming you as his, he actively tried to make sure that no one else could meddle in his plans. As if he had planned it out entirely. Get rid of Dean, she’ll come running right into my arms, and I will never allow her to leave. The idea of belonging to someone, as intriguing as it is, it goes both ways. You didn’t know if you wanted to be owned, and not own him just as much. To have Christian make all of your decisions for you? Absolutely not.

Bzz

You turned your head to look at your phone on your bed, Christian’s name on the screen. You walked over and sat on your bed, holding the phone up, pondering whether you should answer or not. Eventually the decision was made for you as it had stopped ringing and he had gone to voicemail. Letting go of your phone next to you, you fell back onto the bed with a huge sigh and dramatically threw your arm over your eyes.

“Y/N? Open the door,” Dean had commanded sharply after knocking on your door.

“Can men just leave me alone for 5 fucking minutes?!” you silently shouted under your breath.

Grumbling to yourself, you stalked up to the door and unlocked it, opening it to find Dean standing in the doorway with an unreadable expression. He walked forward into the room, forcing you to step back. Though he didn’t stop, he kept walking, looking right into your eyes, and you couldn’t do anything but keep walking backwards. Eventually, your back hit the wall and there was nowhere for you to go, Dean getting closer and closer until eventually he reached you. He was mere inches away and he had looked down at you, slowly bringing his left arm up to put on the right side of your head.

“I’m done playing games,” he spoke softly, yet with a steeled resolve behind them. “I am in love with you.”

You nearly gasped, Dean never speaks of his feelings and for him to bare himself to you right here and saying those words with zero hesitation was something that shook you to your core.

“I’ve been in love with you from the first goddamn day I met you and I’ve been fighting these feelings for so long, sweetheart,” he brought his free hand up and softly caressed your cheek. “I refused to make you a target, refused to lose the one person I love most in this world. And I know, I know that I should have told you sooner, but you know me, sweetheart, I’m never good at timing. It’s just,” he sighed, “seeing you with him, it killed me.” His eyes were shining with nothing but genuine sorrow and truth.

His gaze was so intense that you looked down, unable to even fathom the feelings that were building in your chest. He refused to let you shy away, cupping your chin and tilting your head up, leaving you no choice but to look right at him.

“I am in love with you, and no one will ever change that. Not Leila, not Christian, no one, ok?”

You slightly nodded as best as you could with his hand on your chin, unable to even form words.

He smiled lovingly and leaned down to kiss your lips softly, your eyes closing at the tenderness he offered you. Pulling away after a few moments, he took a step back and moved to sit on the bed, patting the spot next to him.

“Now, tell me everything, please.”

The entire time that you had known Dean, you had always known him as someone who had no idea how to put his feelings into words. He’s always been the expressionist, the emotion he projects in his eyes always telling you everything you needed to know. Now, he’s managed to finally break through that barrier and articulate what he was feeling. Smiling softly, you nodded and sat down on the bed next to him, not ignoring the feeling you got when your knee brushed his.

“I... might have played Christian on our date,” his eyebrow quirked.

“And how exactly did you ‘play’ him?” he asked, curiosity peaked.

“Well, I paid someone to pretend they were choking so I could get my hands on his phone and check his texts...” you hesitantly revealed, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a psychopath.

Though, to your surprise, he bursted out laughing, throwing his head back, “You-” he was barely breathing, “you went through all that just to get into his phone? Damn, Y/N! Remind me to never hide stuff from you.”

You laughed with him, appreciating the lighthearted energy in the room for a moment before continuing, “Yeah, well turns out, he was actually texting Leila. Based on what she was saying, I’m pretty sure she’s an ex girlfriend of his.”

“So he had told her to try and seduce me, but instead, she tried to kill you to have Christian to herself?” Dean questioned, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tried to piece everything together.

You nodded solemnly, “Yup,” you said, popping the p, “I know Christian has good intentions and I really do believe that he has feelings for me.” You paused with a sigh, “But there’s a completely different side of him that he’s hiding from me, and I can’t be with someone like that.”

Dean looked at you in shock, “Even after everything, you’re still capable of not despising him? I’m starting to worry about your mental health, Y/N.”

You punched him in the shoulder with a laugh, “Shut up. What else am I supposed to think? I really like him and even though he had hired Leila, it wasn’t a violent thing, more possessive. The second he found out she was involved in actually trying to hurt me, he threatened her and promised that he would send her to jail.” Dean tried his best to hide his jealousy and anger but you could always see through him, “Dean, I’m sorry if I’m talking about Christian so much with you-”

“Y/N, it’s fine, really,” he responded with a small smile forming on his lips.

“...really?” you quirked, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

He barked a small laugh and got up, “Talk about Christian all you want, but I’m going to be the one that you fall in love with, not him.

Without so much as another word or even a second to let you respond, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

...WHAT

Your mouth was agape and you were staring at the door wide eyed, your mind racing a million miles an hour yet not a single coherent thought was processing in your head. Did he just say he was going to make me fall in love with him? A blush slowly rose up to your cheeks and a giddy feeling had risen in your chest. God I feel like I’m some dumb girl in high school. Before you could start screaming into your pillow, your phone began to ring next to you, picking it up, you saw Christian’s name light up on the screen.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you answered, “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s so nice to hear your voice,” Christian breathed from the other side of the line.

You could almost hear the smile in his voice and although you tried to fight it, it warmed your heart a bit, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no! Nothing at all!” he rushed out, sounding extremely nervous. You heard a deep breath on the other line before he spoke up once again, “I know you must hate me for what I did, and I completely deserve it, but I’m done hiding. If you want to know the real me, all of me, I’ll show you, if that is what you want.”

The coincidence was uncanny, to think you were seconds away from breaking it off with him unless he had shown you every part of him, to him offering you the chance was something that baffled you. There was no chance that you were going to miss out on this, everyone makes mistakes, and although this was a big one, he’s trying to make up for it in the best way that he can.

“It is,” you simply responded.

The relief in his voice was abysmal, “Perfect,” he tried to hide his happiness but didn’t do a very good job at it, “my plane will be at the airstrip at 3pm, if you still want to give me another chance and get to know me, it’ll take you right to my private airstrip. I’ll pick you up from there.”

“Alright Christian, but just know, this is your last chance, I’m not the type of person to give more than a second chance,” you made it clear that this was his last chance, done playing games with men who couldn’t tell you anything straight.

“Of course, I’m just thankful that you’re offering me this chance, you will not regret it. I will show you the parts of me that I’ve been hiding, but I must warn you, there are things that you might not like.”

Based on what had happened on your first “date”, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what it was, and it excited you, “I understand, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” he said before hanging up the phone.

You plugged your phone into it’s charger and placed it onto the nightstand next to your bed, throwing your head back onto your pillow and looking up at the ceiling. Why can’t I just choose? Stupid heart falling in love with two guys that honestly are probably going to treat you horribly, Y/N. Your brain told you that you needed to pack your shit and get the hell out of dodge, but your heart told you to stay, and gave you hopes of an amazing life with both of the men in your life. Though, it’s not that easy; Dean, or Christian. In terms of who would be the perfect boyfriend, you would have to give that honor to Christian, but in terms of what they made you feel, Dean is the one who takes the cake. Not to say you didn’t feel anything for Christian, maybe because you’ve known Dean much longer? Also, Christian has no idea that you’re a hunter. I’ve been on his ass about hiding parts of himself but he still doesn’t know that I’m a hunter. What kind of person does that make me? But after everything you had been through with both of these men, a part of you also says to choose neither, and just move on with your life. Though you had a feeling that neither of them would make that easy, Dean would find you anywhere in the world and Christian could just get on his private jet and fly to anywhere you try to go. A choice it is then. Tomorrow, you were going to tell Christian the truth about who you were as well, and if he didn’t want to be with you any longer, then that is his choice. He deserves the truth just as much as I do from him.

After a few more minutes of thinking, you got up and walked over to the bathroom, taking off your clothes and turning on the warm water. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you took that time to reflect on yourself. Tracing every scar on your body with your fingers, your eyes raking over your features. Why do Dean and Christian like me so much? Both of them could get any woman that they wanted, hell, they probably already have. What makes me so special? You couldn’t find an answer, but in reality, you didn’t want to try. Because if you did, and found nothing, it would shatter you. Shaking those thoughts from your head, you turned and went into the small cubicle, letting the warm spray run over you. You took a relatively quick shower, feeling pretty tired and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the covers and get some shut eye. After you had dried yourself off, you put on your pajamas and turned the light of before getting under the covers. Closing your eyes, before you had completely fallen asleep, the last thing that went through your mind was Dean, and him telling you that you were going to fall in love with him.

Next Part

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx @flamencodiva @impalawrites @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14 @wonder-cole @downanddirtydean

SPN Forevers Tag List: @deanwanddamons @waywardbeanie @anathewierdo @janicho88 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @winchest09 @smol-and-grumpy @jensengirl83

Dean/Jensen Forevers Tag List: @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @deandreamernp

Female Reader Tag List (All Fandoms): @punof-agun

Tag List for The Choice: @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @spnfamily-j2 @greenarrowhead @vicmc624 @pie-with-hunters @m-winchester-67 @ellewritesfix05

#dw #dean winchester #dean #dean x reader #dean imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean reader insert #reader #reader insert #series #fluff #the choice #christian grey #christian grey x reader

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years

Text

Foolishly, Completely Falling

Summary: Spencer declines to spend the night with Luke, but there's a reason for that, and things start to click into place when Spencer shows back up at his doorstep at 2am, hours after being dropped home.

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, past toxic relationship, nightmares, est/dev relationship

Pairing: Luke x Spencer

Word count: 2.5k

Read on AO3

When Luke asks Spencer if he wants to stay the night for the first time, he isn’t as quick to agree like Luke expects. The TV is playing a game show on low volume and they’re lying comfortably together on the sofa, quietly enjoying one another’s company after a busy day. They’d had a lovely evening out at the Mexican restaurant Luke had managed to convince Spencer to try before a cuddle and far too much making out on the sofa, so he’s feeling pretty good when he whispers the question into his boyfriend’s ear. Instead of the excited agreement he expects, though -- after all, the first night in the same bed with a new partner is always exhilarating -- Spencer freezes.

“Hey,” Luke says, tone quickly sobering up. He shifts a little to get a better look at his boyfriend’s face, worried he’d said the wrong thing. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. We can just cuddle a little longer and then I’ll drive you home, yeah? Whatever you want.”

The kind voice he uses seems to slowly shake Spencer out of his frozen trance, gradually pulling himself up from the quicksand of his thoughts to respond to Luke. “No, I want to,” he explains slowly, thankful Luke is so patient when he tries to articulate complicated feelings. “There’s just… it’s because-- I don’t know how to tell you.” He sighs in defeat as he fails to tell his boyfriend how he feels, slumping down a little as he relaxes his previously stiffened muscles, collapsing into the warmth and safety of Luke’s chest.

“You don’t have to justify it, Spencer,” Luke says earnestly, running his hands up and down Spencer’s arms gently as his face contorts with worry, a small sense of relief coming from the feeling of his boyfriend physically relaxing under his touch. He can’t help but feel a sinking pit of fear in his stomach that maybe he’s made a massive misstep, maybe Spencer isn’t as into this as he is, maybe there’s something really, really wrong.

Instead of voicing his concerns, though, he simply revels in the moment: Spencer’s head on his chest, his body flush against his own as their breathing syncs and they take in the last few moments of peace before the world switches back on and they have to part ways.

If only he could stop his tumbling mind and enjoy it properly.

★

Spencer seems mostly recovered from the awkward moment by the time they clamber into Luke’s car to drive him back home. He’s barely switched the engine on before Spencer is telling him about the technology of contactless keys and how they were invented, the dangers they present to society as well as the vulnerability they have to hacking before going on a tangent about a factory in Ireland that accidentally discovered a serious technological advancement. He’s chattering away happily in the passenger seat, and the tension Luke still holds in his shoulders dissipates as he listens to him ramble about things he cares about.

It’s hard to focus on the road, really, when Spencer chooses to be so utterly adorable. He can’t keep his eyes off him when he’s passionately lecturing somebody about something everyone else finds insignificant or confusing and he finds endlessly fascinating. The team makes fun of him constantly for the way he stares at his boyfriend, and he’s not overly fond of the new nickname ‘moon eyes’ that he can’t seem to shake, but it won’t stop him from appreciating Spencer’s knowledge, making sure he knows Luke supports him no matter what. He knows that he gets shut down far too often, that people appreciate him for his intellect only when it’s valuable to him, and he’ll be damned if he ever makes him feel that way.

He listens dutifully the whole drive back to Spencer’s apartment, managing to drive safely despite the distraction, and he can’t suppress the laugh at the surprised look colouring Spencer’s face once he sees they’ve arrived. He goes into a little bubble when he’s info-dumping, only coming out of it when there’s a significant change in his environment, but Luke can’t stop the fondness from spreading through his body as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen Spencer make that face.

“We’re here,” Spencer observes, a slightly sheepish look spreading across his features.

Luke absolutely cannot accept that so he leans across the console to press a deep and loving kiss to his lips, startling Spencer out of his embarrassment as he kisses back with just as much vigour. “You want me to walk you up?” Luke asks as he pulls away, bringing a hand to Spencer’s face to gently brush a few curls off his forehead.

“I’m good,” Spencer smiles, looking adoringly at Luke. If he was a more acrimonious man he’d be annoyed that everyone misses the matching looks Spencer sends his way, but there’s something special about them being just for him, like there’s a little bit of him he gets to keep just for himself. He’ll take that over Spencer getting teased even more any day.

“Okay, baby.” He leans in to give him another kiss, quickly this time, before leaning up to peck his forehead, too. “You sleep well. If we’re not called in tomorrow I’ll swing by and we can do something together, how does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Spencer says softly. He puts his hand on top of Luke’s and caresses his knuckles gently, and for a second Luke is convinced he’s about to say something but he decides against it, settling on a soft smile before he’s clumsily climbing out of the car and walking towards the elevator into the building.

The shy wave Spencer gives him just as the elevator doors close is enough to keep his heart warm through winter.

★

Luke heads straight to bed as soon as he gets back home, switching off all the lights and getting ready in the bathroom before slipping between the sheets. It’s barely 11 but he’s exhausted from a busy day at work followed by the date he’d had with Spencer and he can feel the exhaustion tugging at his limbs. He’d hoped that he would be cuddled against a warm body tonight, and Spencer’s absence makes the bed feel so cold, even with Roxy warming his feet.

Eventually, he manages to slip off to sleep, though, because he’s woken up not long after by Roxy leaping off the bed and whining at his bedroom door, startling him awake. “Roxy?” he asks, immediately on high alert. “What’s wrong, girl?” He sleepily pushes the covers off him, exposing himself to the frigid air of his apartment as he contemplates reaching for his gun when he hears it. There’s a tentative knock at the door, probably not the first, far too quiet to have woken him up if he hadn’t had Roxy. He jumps into action and pulls a t-shirt on as he walks to his front door, flicking on the lights as he goes, not wanting to trip over anything in the dark.

It’s Spencer. He’s standing there looking nothing short of distraught as he wrings his hands nervously in front of him, that sheepish, embarrassed look Luke had been so desperate to kiss away earlier returned in full force.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking close to tears. “I just, I didn’t know where to go… usually I go to JJ’s but Henry and Michael are staying with Penelope tonight so she and Will could have a proper date night again and I didn’t want to interrupt but I didn’t want to be alone so I thought that maybe… maybe it would be okay if I came to see you, but I’m sorry if--”

“Hey,” Luke gently intercepts Spencer’s rambling with a careful hand on his waist and a step closer. “Why don’t you come in?”

It’s a bit of a shock to see his boyfriend on his doorstep only hours after he’d dropped him off, especially since he’s clearly in quite a state, a very different Spencer to the one who had kissed him deeply and waved him goodbye earlier in the evening, but Luke doesn’t want to do another thing until Spencer is happy again, feeling safe and comforted. He’s going to try damn hard to do that for him.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” he apologises again, voice tight and anxious, eyes glassy as he follows him inside and hesitantly sits next to him on the sofa. “I should have asked before turning up here and I’m sure I woke you up. God, I’m such an idiot sometimes, I should just--”

“Spencer,” Luke says, voice a little louder to cut over Spencer’s panicked word vomit. “You are always welcome here. No matter what, okay? You don’t have to be afraid to come here, ever. I’m your boyfriend, I want to take care of you.”

“Really?” he asks, looking almost floored at Luke’s words.

“Really.” Luke promises, reaching over to gently wipe a spilled tear from Spencer’s cheekbone. “If I was upset, wouldn’t you feel the same way.”

Spencer’s eyes widen in understanding as he nods vigorously, causing Luke to smile fondly.

“Now. What’s going on, baby? Did something happen?”

“Um,” Spencer hesitates, simultaneously not knowing how to properly voice his feelings and afraid of how Luke might react to them. Luckily, Luke knows how to be patient with Spencer, waiting quietly as he traces patterns on his forearm. “You know how earlier I said I did want to stay here but I couldn’t?”

Luke hums. “I do, yes.”

“Well, it’s because I was scared.”

Luke’s finger pauses for a short second in surprise before continuing its path, trying to convey his non-judgement. “What of, sweetheart?” he asks, praying that he wasn’t about to say him.

“The last time I shared a bed with someone, he wasn’t nice to me,” Spencer confesses, looking into Luke’s eyes briefly, long enough only for Luke to pick up on the intense vulnerability swimming in his pupils. “I get… really bad nightmares. And my ex, the one I told you about, George?” He waits for Luke’s acknowledging nod before continuing. “He got… angry. I disturbed his sleep and he yelled a lot before breaking up with me.”

Luke nods slowly, finally understanding the situation. “And you were afraid that the same thing would happen with me?” he asks gently, not judging Spencer for his fear at all and hoping he can see that in his eyes.

“Yeah,” he whispers, looking down at his twiddling fingers for a long moment before finally looking back at Luke, tears gathering in his eyes again. “I’m sorry, I should have trusted you.”

“Oh, Spencer,” he soothes calmly, gathering him up into a hug and carding his fingers through Spencer’s curls in just the way he knows he likes. “You can’t control a fear like that. It’s a natural reaction to be afraid of repeating a previous experience, especially if that event was upsetting or traumatic.”

“I know,” he mutters miserably, face wedged close into Luke’s neck. “I’m still sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. “Is that what made you come over tonight? You had a nightmare?” He feels Spencer nod and his heart breaks. His boyfriend has been silently suffering through these awful nightmares alone, all because some asshole had broken up with him for something he couldn’t control. “I’m sorry, Spence. Do you want to talk about it?”

Spencer shakes his head, as he pulls his face away from Luke’s neck. “I’ve tried that but it doesn’t work,” he frowns. “It just makes me relive it and the anxiety gets worse. It’s better if I just try and acknowledge them before moving past them.”

“Whatever works for you, baby,” Luke says. “Now, how about we get you changed into some pajamas again and you can come and stay with me tonight. I just want to be here for you, Spencer, comfort you if you have a nightmare, hold you even if you don’t. Nothing will happen if you do have one, alright? Except you being able to avoid travelling across town at 2am to seek some comfort, because I’ll be right next to you, cuddles at the ready.”

“You promise?” Spencer asks hopefully, finally seeming to relax a little.

“I swear on my life,” Luke grins, before pressing a chaste kiss to Spencer’s lips and standing up. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.”

Spencer’s wearing a soft t-shirt already but Luke demands he change into one of his own, claiming he wants him to be as comfortable as possible, but they both know he just can’t get enough of Spencer in his own clothes. It feels like an extra layer of protection Luke can wrap around him, keep him safe and warm in his clothing, protect him from anything formidable, including his own mind. “It smells of you,” he smiles approvingly as soon as it’s settled over his shoulders, too loose for his smaller frame.

“Well, baby, you’re gonna love cuddling with me in my bed then,” Luke winks. “I’m not sure anywhere else could possibly smell more like me.” He switches off the lights in the house and calls Roxy back to bed, before slipping underneath the duvet, which is much more pleasurable this time, Spencer curled up against his side as Luke wraps a comforting arm around his waist.

He savours Spencer’s satisfied sigh as he curls up tighter, pressing as close to Luke as possible; his clingy nature is one of the things he loves most about him. There’s nothing Spencer likes more than climbing into Luke’s lap or laying across him on the sofa, holding his hand in public or pressing himself as close as possible until Luke gets the hint and wraps an arm around his waist. He loves being held, which works out well because Luke isn’t sure he likes anything more than holding him, drinking in the comfort that comes from the closeness, the inexplicable feeling that is being Spencer Reid’s boyfriend.

“Thank you, Luke,” Spencer whispers, voice clearly showing how drained and tired he is, but he sounds relaxed and comfortable, and that’s what matters most.

“Anytime, baby,” he whispers back, smile playing over his lips as it always seems to do when he’s around Spencer. “You sleep now. You’re safe, I’ll be here.”

“I know.” Spencer’s whisper is even quieter this time as his breaths even out and his muscles relax slightly, and Luke has never envied his boyfriend’s eidetic memory more. If he could bottle this exact moment -- Spencer slowly falling asleep on him, trusting him enough to stay no matter what happens, the warmth and comfort of the embrace -- he’d never stop playing it over, a personal paradise just for the two of them recorded in his mind forever.

Just having this moment, though, having this memory all for himself, will do Luke just fine.

@gxenbev

#ralvez #luke alvez x spencer reid #luke #luke alvez #spencer #spencer reid #ralvez fic #ralvez writing #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds hurt/comfort #criminal minds angst #my writing

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hubbytaeil · 4 years

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hello! for the request, can you do, 89+93+98 with badboy!hendery + innocent!s/o? the genre is up to you!💕

Hendery + #89 Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day, #93 Don’t tell your parents, #98 You’re adorable

genre: fluff

word count: 1k7

a/n: sorry this took so long ;; also as i was writing i fell in love with this concept so now i’m an emotional wreck lol

✿ prompts for requests ✿

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” You mumbled completely out of breath, attempting to entangle yourself between the bushes of your backyard. “And yet, here you are.” Answered Hendery, who just a few minutes prior had texted you to come down and meet him. He couldn’t just ring the doorbell, of course. “If my parents see you here, they’re going to kill you first and me second.” You remarked, moving aside some branches to get a better look at him. “Okay, don’t tell your parents I’m here then, easy as that” snickered your interlocutor. Hendery’s face was lit up by the soft moonlight, he was wearing his signature leather jacket, the one he brought everywhere with him, even at church. His hair fell delicately on the corners of his face, framing it perfectly as always.

When you had seen him for the first time during a Sunday mass his hair was a little shorter and he had a bit of a tan, which was now disappearing. “Look at that young man, can he at least show some respect with an appropriate attire when he goes to church?” was one of the many comments your mother would whisper in your ear, you always nodded, making her believe that you agreed with her. She had absolutely no clue that you and Hendery would’ve ended up bonding during the course of the Summer at youth camp. No one knew that you two would sneak out of your accommodations to meet in secret by the lake; he had taught you how to slide rocks along the water surface and you had helped him memorise some prayers Hendery couldn’t wrap his head around. If any of your friends had known, you knew their perception of you would’ve changed drastically. You with your long dresses and the “God-honouring” styled hair, as Hendery had nicknamed them. Him and his always black attire and hair that would never stay in its place, just like him. Hendery was like a volcano that could explode at any moment, ready to speak his mind whenever he desired to. It was a characteristic that, deep down, you wish you had for yourself. Both of you, so different, yet somehow, you clicked with each other perfectly. Summer eventually came to an end, and you thought so would your friendship. Oh, how wrong you were. As soon as you came back home, he would come looking for you, making sure to come around when your parents weren’t home. You couldn’t help but feel rather taken back, partly because you were afraid. Not only for what the others would’ve said, but also for him. You knew very well that, under that cold and unbothered act Hendery would put on, there was the sweetest guy you’d ever met. People just couldn’t see through him like you did. Still, you were too scared to meet him in broad daylight, which resulted in him suggesting to meet some time after dinner. And here you were, with leaves entangled in your hair as you were trying to get past the last bush that was separating you two. When you were finally face to face with Hendery, you adjusted the hem of your dress, making sure that there were no stains. “You’re adorable.” Whispered Hendery but you had heard him loud and clear. You thanked the darkness that was hiding your trembling hands. “Don’t mock me.” “I’m serious.” Hendery objected, letting his fingers remove the leaves that were still on your head. To other people this small contact would not be considered a big deal, but to you it was, due to your upbringing. You had never been this close to a man before, and Hendery was aware of that. He was also aware that he adored how flustered you would get when he would take such liberties; seeing you messing up your words, your shaky hands hiding behind your back, your breathing getting quicker, everything about you would drive him crazy. As he removed the last remaining leaf, he lingered there on the spot, wanting to figure out the features of your face. “H-Hendery, can you back up a l-little?” “Oops, my bad.” He apologised, but he wasn’t sorry at all. “So… what was so urgent that it could not wait?” you implied, crossing your arms. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you, y/n”. Hendery replied boldly, mimicking your movements. You were still not used to his gratuitous upfront remarks, inevitably your lips parted slightly, unable to respond. “Oh, and also… I want to show you something.” Hendery quickly put his arm in yours, making his way through the darkness. “Hendery, w-wait-“ “I swear, it’ll only take five minutes. I’ll get you home safe and sound, I promise.” He spoke so seriously, looking at you over his shoulders, you knew that he meant it. It made you feel secure and at ease. You stopped resisting, matching his steps to yours, all the while looking down to hide your smile.

You had lived in this neighbourhood for years, yet you had never been on top the hill that was just minutes away from your house. Neither you had ever seen the city this way before: all the lights illuminating the night sky left you breathless. As you were taking all of this in, Hendery stood on the side, observing your rather childish expression. “Sit down with me.” Hendery asked politely. Before you could refuse with the excuse that you would’ve ruined your dress, he removed his jacket and put in on the ground, indicating that you could sit there. “But it’s your favourite jacket.” “And that’s your favourite dress.” Hendery remarked with a tender smile that made you give in. You sat together, like many times before by the lake, but this time it felt rather strange. The atmosphere was tense, so unlike you two. Usually you would converse, laugh freely and joke around. You broke the silence making a remark on the sudden temperature shift to which Hendery just hummed in response. Then silence fell again. “I’m sorry y/n, I don’t know how to do this.” “What do you mean?” now you were nervous, clueless about what he was referring to. Hendery fidgeted with the rings around his fingers, trying to utter something that could make sense to you. “I don’t want to scare you.” “Well, you are scaring me with all of this mysteriousness.” You slightly stuttered saying this, causing Hendery to smile tenderly. “Okay then… can I hold your hand?” Hendery’s request would’ve felt out of place to anyone, but he knew that he had to behave this way with you. Being so shy, and inherently afraid of the contact of a man, courageously taking you in his arms and kissing you passionately, like he had dreamed about, wouldn’t have been the best option. Hendery wanted you to trust him, to feel safe with him, and he was succeeding, considering how quickly you nodded, touched by how considerate he was being. His fingers slid in between yours carefully. He was surprised by how you reciprocated the grip, and you were as well. “Do you like this? I mean… is it alright?” Hendery questioned, noticing how your eyes would not move from the landscape. “I like it, a lot.” You replied, stressing the last word. Hendery’s heart was about to implode, he was now sure that you felt the same, so he decided to push his luck. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?” the way he was articulating his sentences was so far from how he spoke normally in these situations, yet he was ready to make compromises for you. Slowly, you gathered up the courage to look him directly. Of course, you wanted to kiss him, that was all you had dreamed about during the entire summer, but there was one thing holding you back. “I’m afraid that I don’t know how to.” You came clean, looking away once again, but Hendery stopped your movement halfway, gently reaching for your cheek. “All you have to do is close your eyes and just… slightly part your lips and... move them with me.” You followed his instruction, although you were certain you looked like an idiot in doing it. Both of Hendery’s hand were now cupping your face, guiding you cautiously to him. When your lips finally touched, it felt like heaven opening up its pearly gates to you. Hendery’s pecks were delicate and sweet, succeeding in his attempt of making you relax. You began matching your movements to his, finally returning the kiss properly, making Hendery melt right there on the spot. The exchange remained as chaste as possible, yet somehow Hendery couldn’t recall a single kiss that had made him feel this way. He knew that you were special from the first time he had seen you stand up so proudly, reciting a psalm in front of the whole congregation. And now you were there, in his arms, granting him the privilege to be the first man to ever kiss you. The pride he felt in such honour was beyond words. Calmly, Hendery leaned backwards, disconnecting your lips. He observed your expression thoroughly, wanting to make sure that you had enjoyed it just as much. Your bright smile was more then enough for an answer. “Wow, y/n. Your lips are so soft, I could kiss them all day.” That was more like the Hendery you had grown so fond of. “Don’t say these things.” You mumbled this sentence almost like a reflex, even if your mind didn’t agree with it, and it showed in the laugh that followed your statement. Suddenly, you felt Hendery’s lips pressing on your forehead lovingly. “If you don’t want me to say those things, then I won’t.” he declared, miming a zip closing his lips. You shook your head, tenderly moving his hand away. “I want you to be yourself.” After finishing the sentence, you caught a glimpse of a wide-eyed Hendery, who stayed silent for a full minute. You were starting to worry, seeing him speechless for the time since you had met him. Then he fiercely grabbed your hand, placing it on his chest. “And I want you to be my girlfriend.”

#hendery au #hendery imagines #hendery scenarios #hendery fluff #hendery angst #hendery smut #hendery drabble #nct au #wayv au #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv fluff #hendery fic #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #request #huang kunhang

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justalittlebluetiefling · 4 years

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After tonight, how do you think Jester's feeling? Honestly, I wasn't so sure before, but after their conversation, I'm again very certain Fjord is the one she has feelings for

All right, anon. This is a fun question for me, because we talk about Fjord’s feelings a lot, but not Jester’s. I’m going to say a few things that I never thought I’d say in this ask. For example: Fjord’s feelings have been much more obvious in the last 60 episodes than Jester’s have been. If you had told me I would say that 100 episodes ago, I would have laughed so hard. But here we are.

TLDR? Jester’s in love with Fjord and has been for a while. I’ve been going off about this occasionally since her second playlist was released. But that is what really convinced me that she had moved from ‘crush’ into ‘love’. And episode 117 helped me be even more confident in saying that.

I also wanted to put some episode 117 receipts in here, but tags in Tumblr are tricky sometimes, so I just made a companion gifset instead. (If this link messes with the tags, I’ll take it out and put it in a reblog.)

Anyway. Let’s get a cut in here so I can get carried away with the why. 2436 words of carried away.

So, like I mentioned above, Fjord’s feelings have been much more obvious than Jester’s lately. For a while, I guess. Pardon me while I just quote Laura from Talks for second. And that’s mostly because Jester backed off when she thought her advances were unappreciated. It was all part of Jester realizing that smut novels aren’t what real relationships are like. A very integral part of her development and how she’s more than her crush(es).

The funny thing about all this... I think about this sometimes... is how Fjord didn’t actually not appreciate it. He’s just got low wisdom and didn’t realize that it meant that she like-likes him. He thought they were just goofing off. Because. Sorry, I’m briefly hopping into Fjord meta and then I’ll hop right back, I promise. But yeah. He thought they were just goofing off and I’m realizing as I type this paragraph that it never occurred to him, because “You know when someone makes you feel a way that you don't think you have any right to feel or you never thought that you might?”. Yeah. So, it wasn’t just his low wisdom. It just didn’t occur to him, because he didn’t think that he deserved to feel that way about anyone or have anyone feel that way about him. Okay. Hopping back now.

The other hilarious thing about this is that things between them weren’t awkward until she backed off and stopped overtly flirting. Which also correlates with the end of the pirate arc and how Beau, during that arc, pointed out to Fjord that Jester was jealous of Avantika.

But yeah. Jester backed off, which really threw their relationship into a whole new dynamic. I have a lot more complicated and layered feelings on the pirate arc that require a rewatch for me to properly articulate, but we know that Jester was scared during this time. She was a little scared that she didn’t really know Fjord (Re: Somebody Else being on her first playlist). But that was only temporary. That whole time made Jester start to question her feelings for Fjord. Which in turn made most of the fandom start to question them as well. But I do think that she eventually landed on “my friendship with him is more important to me than a potential relationship and if I keep acting like this, I’m going to lose him”. This is partially her realizing that life isn’t a romance novel, but I think it is also a direct result of her realizing how uncomfortable he was with the idea of being used as bait to distract Avantika. He did it, but he was not comfortable the whole time they talked about it.

But also, Fjord was her first real friend outside of Artagan. He trusted her right away with things he didn’t tell anyone else in their group for months. She knew he was hiding his accent. She knew what happened on the Tide’s Breath. He told her before he told anyone else about how he lost his powers. They promised to protect each other and help each other on their way to their individual goals and they’re still holding up that promise every day.

ANYWAY I’M GETTING DISTRACTED I’M SORRY.

Okay, where are her feelings now. Now. She’s in love with him. When she backed off from the flirting and started focusing on just being there as a friend, it deepened their relationship. I mean, to be fair, it was already pretty deep. I promise I’m not getting off track this time, but he really did tell her things he told no one else. Sometimes it takes him longer to get around to it, because of the group, but he always ends up telling Jester everything. And that opens the door for Jester to be open with him, too, in a way that she isn’t with anyone else.

I mean, okay. Gosh. How do I even word this?

Jester doesn’t actively seek anyone out to talk about her feelings. There are two times I can think of off the top of my head that she’s broached the subject first. One: when she was looking for Beau and ended up talking to Veth about how she felt about the kiss that wasn’t a kiss. And Two: the Jellyfish talk, when she asked Fjord if he ever gets sad. But Jester keeps everything buried pretty deeply. So, the fact that Fjord is constantly going out of his way to ask her if she’s okay and the fact that he pulled her aside to tell her that if she ever needs to talk, she can talk to him. That’s a huge deal. And I think she’s still scared to take him up on it, because on top of all these things is that layer of awkwardness. Fjord and Jester are just awkward with each other right now. And their feelings for each other are what makes it awkward.

If the awkwardness was one-sided and only coming from Fjord, I’d say that her feelings had gone away. But it’s not. It’s always two-sided. There’s so much tension in all of their conversations, because while they talk about everything else, there’s one thing they haven’t talked about. Or... I guess it’s a couple things at this point. But they’ve never talked about the kiss that wasn’t a kiss. That’s what I mean specifically at this point. It’s just never been brought up. Which is so weird, because the other times (I think it’s two? Maybe it’s one. I’m doubting myself.) that Fjord’s saved Jester’s life with a potion, she brought it up. She made a production about it. But the kiss was different, because she didn’t know if it was a real kiss. I think she’s come around to it not being a real kiss, but it’s got to still bug her.

But that’s planted this seed of awkwardness in all their solo interactions that hasn’t gone away. Jester’s been pushing her feelings for Fjord aside. Or trying to. But he keeps doing things that make her have hope again and it’s getting to a point that she can’t ignore that feeling. Like... He wanted her to be the one to go with him into the wreckage of the Tide’s Breath. The whole day after the blue dragon encounter, he was hovering. He wanted her to have a potion so that she could be safe and he said that he wasn’t being awkward he was disarming her. He dove off the side of a tree when she fell to save her. He tells her how much her help has meant to him in Kravaraad. He makes sure they go visit her dad. He runs after her to go rescue her mama and then he tells her that he’ll wear a stupid hat if she wants him to and that she looks lovely while implying that he’d like to look at her in that dress all the time. And then he asks her if she’d like to get dinner with him instead of go look for their friends. AND THEN he tells her that he likes it when she’s feeling his stomach looking for the orb. He was constantly checking in with her during Travlercon to make sure she was safe and comfortable. He launched himself into the air over an active volcano and begged her to let go and stay with them. AND TO MAKE MATTERS MORE CONFUSING FOR HER. He hugged her twice and then he willingly danced with her even though he didn’t know how AND THEN he gave her this tiny unicorn statue, because he knows how much she loves things like that. And now he’s given her the necklace that was meant to protect him, because he’s more concerned about her safety than his own. He told her that he’s having a hard time focusing on his future, because his past keeps getting in the way and he wants to deal with that before........ AND THEN HE SAYS he’s going to be thinking about how she helped him all night.

LIKE.

I got a little carried away again, sorry.

Here’s the deal.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. There has been nothing in canon to make me think that Jester’s feelings have gone away. Everything I can see implies that they’ve deepened. But she’s scared. She’s never really been in love before. It is absolutely terrifying (or it is for me) to admit when you’re in love. Especially when you don’t know if your feelings are reciprocated. Or if you think they’re unwanted. And she thought hers were unwanted. But she’s still been doing little things this whole time. She’s still shown signs of jealousy. She still thirsts over him, just not as openly as she did before. She gets super shy whenever they have one-on-ones and that makes her get awkward in the cutest way. Jester started to be careful with how she was around Fjord, but he’s been making it pretty clear that he doesn’t want her to be careful with him and I think she’s starting to realize that. It’s giving her hope that maybe her feelings are wanted.

Also, the fact that there’s no in-between for these two? They’re either incredibly emotional when they talk to each other or incredibly awkward or BOTH. They are radiating “in love with your best friend” energy. The difference is that Fjord isn’t afraid of ruining the friendship and Jester is. Or... well... yeah. Actually, that’s what I mean. I think Jester’s coming around to not being afraid. She’s got hope again that they might be something more. And I think that hope is starting to be fun for her again instead of scary.

OKAY I’m almost done. I want to very briefly talk about that gifset that I made, because I made receipts for a reason, damn it. Let’s talk ONLY about the conversation in 117.

Gif 1: This one is right after this exchange. Jester: I mean... it's worth a try. He's met all of us, so he could potentially scry on anyone, I guess, now. But maybe it'll keep me from being seen if I scry on him. I don't know how it all works. // Fjord: I guess we'd find out the next time we did it. // Jester: Yeah. Like, she looks down at the necklace and just smiles, because Fjord has literally just told her that his safety doesn’t matter as much as hers. Fjord went out of his way to do this thing for her and she just looks so touched.

Gifs 2 and 3: These are both just Jester laughing over Fjord talking about her face when she’s scrying. They’re goofing off and being silly. And gif 3 in particular is just... again. She’s having fun! With Fjord! And she likes that.

Gif 4: Jester just asked Fjord “how are you?” and he started up with that big, goofy grin. And she can’t even get through calling her question stupid without smiling. Like, she’s reacting to his smile. And it’s kind of funny, because I think she doesn’t understand why he’s smiling so much in that moment, but she still can’t help but smile back.

Gif 5: I feel like I need to close all of that before.... That’s such an interesting reaction and SO TELLING. Like, that small smile and then she kind of takes a breath and then she still can’t not smile over it. SHE KNOWS. She really hopes that it means what she wants it to mean. And she wants it to mean something.

Gif 6: She’s once again reacting to a Fjord smile. You can see the way the corners of her mouth keep trying to smile. Because Fjord is just touched and telling her that yeah, she should send a message to Kotho. And then it’s the things she’s doing with her hand there, too. She’s all nervous energy and can’t really hold still. There’s that hope again.

Gif 7: She’s SO HAPPY because she’s helping him. SO HAPPY. And again with the hands! So much nervous energy.

Gif 8: It's just a spell! It's easy to do. Again with the hands!!! I mean, okay. Speculation and projection. I’m aware. This is just something I do and I see it in Jester a lot. Where, she’s got to do something with her hands so they don’t do what she really wants them to. I mean, SERIOUSLY. And the way she smiles at him at the end of it. There’s a lot for her to process about this exchange and I think it’s starting to hit her. How much this means. What this might mean. And she’s happy. She’s excited.

Gif 9: I will think about that all night. Still the nervous energy. I won’t repeat that paragraph. But like. Fuck. Fjord told her that he was going to think about that all night. I kind of want to yell right now. In a good way. My heart just hurts in a good way over this moment. I can’t even speculate on her emotions here because that’s like... huge. There was so much tension here. Jester hasn’t had anyone say anything like this to her before. She doesn’t know how to react. And Fjord is also holding himself back. Uh, this is Fjord HOLDING HIMSELF BACK. What the fuck. I mean. Okay I have to move on. I have nothing productive to say here.

Gif 10: I guess I was wrong. This isn’t only about the conversation, but also about the moment later. Where he thinks she’s going to scry when she’s going to send and she realizes that he was going to do what she asked him to before. She is just so pleased that he intended to follow through. I choose to believe this is 100% what Jester’s face actually did in the moment. And I love this because it’s only awkward on Fjord’s end this time. Jester is just happy.

I’ve gotta end this thing, guys. Why are you even still listening to me ramble???

I guess what I ultimately want this whole answer to be: Jester’s in love with Fjord. Fjord makes her so happy. And she is starting to let herself hope that he’s in love with her, too. She can see the possibility of a future with him again and finally letting herself believe that it might happen. So, yeah. That’s where I think Jester’s feelings are.

Hope you enjoyed my mini breakdown over Jester and how much Fjord’s support has meant to her!

#fjorester #jester lavorre #critical role #the mighty nein #cr spoilers #dudes i'm sorry #this got so long #i just couldn't stop once i got started #and i kept getting distracted #anonymous #erin answers things

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planetesastraea · 4 years

Text

On the tip of his fingers

Geraskier, Modern AU - Mature - 6 277 words - Warnings: none

First meetings, himbo Geralt, bisexual Geralt (even if he’s just finding out), bottom Geralt (that too), top Jaskier, first time, handjobs, banter, praise kink, consent kink

Betaed by Micaela Dawn: she’s a wonderful artist and beta, check out her work!

Read on AO3

The bar was oddly crowded for a Wednesday night and Geralt was trying his best to not look as out of place as he felt. He had to be there, were Yen's words. And once Triss and Sabrina heard he was trying to get out of the team’s celebratory night out, his fate had been sealed.

"You deserve this too," Yen had said. “You’ve been working your ass off as much as we’ve all been and you deserve to blow off some steam.”

“I can blow off some steam at home.”

“Playing Skittles-stake Gwent with our teenage daughter doesn’t count. Also you promised you’d spend more time with the team outside of work-”

“I actually never agreed to that,”

“-so you’re coming.”

And so here he was, wearing one of his black button down shirts and a comfortable pair of jeans with an empty beer bottle in his hand, making casual conversation over the slightly too-loud music and praying to the highest powers that the girls wouldn’t try to get him to dance. Triss and Yen had met him in front of the bar to make sure he wouldn’t turn away once he had a look inside the place. As soon as he had been close enough, Triss had reached a hand out to his collar, making a tsk sound.

“What are we going to do with you, hm?”, she had whispered to herself as she had opened the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled his collar a little wider.

“Hey, be gentle,” Yen had cut in softly. “At least he lost the tie.”

They had cackled in unison as he rolled his eyes, yet unable to fake annoyance as a smile drew itself on his lips. With one of the women clinging to each of his arms, the three of them comfortably slid together as they walked into the place.

He liked being around them. Over the years things had been several levels of complicated and then some, but the three of them had found their pace eventually. Triss and Yen liked to mock him and he liked to act dumber than he actually was- well, most of the time. His social skills still didn’t reach that high.

As it turned out, you could learn a lot about people by staying at the office several nights in a row working a gigantic case, taking turns on who would get to doze off for twelve minutes on the couch and who was to blame for the soy sauce on page 86 of the Claremont contract. And damn did Triss and Yen know him well. Which was why they had dutifully waited for him outside the bar. Claiming he looked for them but gave up because of how packed the place was would definitely have been among his top three excuses to go back home and relieve Eskel of his Uncle duties. (Both he and Ciri would have been terribly disappointed and that was about 75% of the reasons why he had made it to the party).

They had been here for a couple of hours now, had done a good amount of talking and heard some more-than-other alright bands take to the stage. One of the junior associates further away from him called “Hey, here’s Sabrina!!” and Geralt turned towards the sound of Sabrina’s voice going “You guys are not going to believe this!” when something, or, well, someone, slammed right into him.

“Owww, holy shit I’m so sorry, you alright?”

The man was carrying two pints that had probably been full to the brim before he collided with Geralt. Luckily most of what spilled had hit the floor (he didn't need a repeat of the 2017 "Wet-Shirt Contest Winner" from when a sink pipe had blown up in the men's room. Lambert had walked in, taken a thousand pictures and emailed memes to the whole floor for weeks).

Geralt’s shoes had been fairly sticky with booze already so it wasn't much trouble.

“I’m fine,” he said and that’s when he noticed the other man had come to a full stop, eyes locked on him intently, lips slightly parted. The eyeliner around his eyes was a bit smeared and Geralt recognized him as one of the singers from earlier.

“That you are,” he murmured in a low tone, almost to himself. Geralt blinked.

“Yes. I am,” he said back louder in hope to maybe clear out the odd look on the other man’s face. Just because he was tall, well-built and, well, apparently, somewhat broody, people expected him to get pissed at the slightest things.

“I’m Julian," the guy said and Geralt smiled politely, unsure why the stranger would introduce himself.

“Geralt,” he replied at the same time Julian went “But you can call me Jaskier!” and then “I’m sorry, what was that?”

It was like his words were running faster than his thoughts.

“Geralt. My name is Geralt,” he repeated.

“Oh. Nice to meet you, Geralt.” Jaskier’s lips rose to one side and he tilted his head slightly. Geralt was way more used to people trying to avoid looking at him, he had his unusual colored eyes to thank for that. They were easily disturbing and while people didn't always show discomfort, they at least showed restraint. Jaskier didn't have an ounce of it and Geralt had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

“Can I get you another drink?” Jaskier blurted out.

“Mine was already empty. That’s your drink on the floor,” Geralt replied as the other man chuckled, eyes looking down briefly.

“Right,” he raised his eyes and licked his lips. “Offer still stands. Can I get you another drink?”

“Hm,” Geralt said, his well-known wording skills kicking in. “My friends are-” he turned around thinking he’d find Anica and Tiff where he had left them only to realise they had disappeared among the crowd. In the far back he recognized Triss and Yen dancing on a table like nothing in the world could stop them and any back-up plan he was about to use evaporated.

Jaskier raised his eyebrows, eyes twinkling. Give other people a chance, Yen’s voice said in Geralt's head and the line of his shoulders softened. Jaskier’s eyes hadn’t moved from him for even a second. Maybe it wasn’t that bad.

“Sure,” Geralt aimed for a neutral tone but sounded nervous even to his own ears. The other man’s smile widened.

They found two empty stools that felt oddly closer than those in Geralt’s bars usually were - but then again most of Geralt’s bars were hotel lobbies on work trips or the kind where he could take a whole bottle for himself and sit in a corner where no one would dare bother him. (He hadn't been in one of those in a while. He didn’t miss it.)

Jaskier set an ale in front of him and Geralt faintly wondered who it was originally destined for.

“So what are you doing here tonight? I’ve never seen you around,” Jaskier started.

“Celebrating,” he said, in a voice that hardly sounded celebratory.

“Is it your birthday?”

“No,” he replied, vaguely gesturing to his group of friends who were lost to the crowd, “with colleagues. We closed in on a deal."

"What kind of business do you work in?" The other man seemed way more interested in learning about Geralt than actually drinking the ale. Geralt shrugged, a wordless version of his usual ‘hm’.

“All of them. We're a law firm.”

“Oh! Well, congrats by the way!" Jaskier said and then leaned in and using a secretive tone he added, "I mean, you didn’t help a dangerous criminal get away with it, did you?”

Geralt grimaced and prepared himself to lose Jaskier’s interest in his job entirely.

“Not that kind of lawyers.”

“What kind, then?”

“Corporate.”

To his surprise, Jaskier kept nodding.

“So what was the deal about? Please tell me you’re the kind of firm on David’s side and not on Goliath's.”

“It’s rarely as straightforward as that,” Geralt mused and took a drink of his ale.

Jaskier hummed softly.

“What was this one anyway?”

“I can’t disclose any details,” he hedged and Jaskier chuckled.

“Oh, you can’t disclose any details, can you?” he leaned again, this time his arm and shoulder pressing against Geralt's.

“No, I can’t,” Geralt articulated again to make sure Jaskier would hear him. Music rarely ever left anyone’s hearing intact after a few years, maybe that was why the man kept leaning closer.

“Anything I’ll hear about on the news?”

“The local ones, maybe.”

“Well aren't you a man of mystery.” Their shoulders bumped again. Geralt didn't remember at which point he had rolled up his sleeves but his forearms felt oddly comfortable being that close to someone else's skin. It had been a while since he had even given thought to someone else's skin.

There was still a band playing on the stage out of his sight, a crowd surrounding them, people all along the bar calling for the bartender’s attention, noises and lights everywhere and yet, somehow, in the ocean of stimuli, his attention was focused on Jaskier.

"Maybe I should take your number then?" Jaskier said, wriggling an eyebrow. "As legal counsel. For when law enforcement catches up with me."

“What would they catch you for?” he asked, willing to take the bait.

“Oh, there’s quite the list,” Jaskier said. “I’m afraid I have a rather criminal past. There’s the illegal bus riding, parking in client-only spots,” he counted on his fingers, adding each theatrically. “I once shook a vending machine to get my chocolate bar and got a second one I didn’t pay for.”

“Hmm. I think you might get away with those,” Geralt answered, taking a drink from his pint.

“Well I guess all is left is the case of indecent exposure.”

The man had a nonchalant demeanor about him but his eyes were focused on Geralt and definitely didn't miss the way he almost choked on the ale. Geralt only then realised how much of Jaskier’s chest was visible. He registered vaguely how he’d never had an interest in other people’s collar bones before and realised he had forgotten where they were going with this.

"Hmm,” he cleared his throat, trying to look unbothered. “Like I said, not my area of expertise."

He saw Jaskier lick his lips and something in his eyes reminded him of the decisive moment that came with all his negotiations.

"How about we get out of here and you show me your area of expertise?"

"What?" He couldn’t have heard that right. Jaskier’s eyes softened and his hand hovered over his bare forearm.

"I'm saying I want to take you home.” There was a beat and Geralt swallowed, the taste of ale still on his lips. His conversations with other people definitely didn’t go like that. The peak of panic might have been obvious on his face because Jaskier’s fingers touched his wrist and he spoke into his ear. "I'm making a move on you, Geralt,” he said kindly, “and I don’t know if you’re too polite to decline or if I’m being too subtle-” he pulled back to look at him and his face was so fucking close. “Which, honestly, would be a first! So... What do you think?”

What did he think? His mind was an uninhabited fish tank. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a light flicker. He blinked again, looking at Jaskier’s lips. His brain whispered pretty, and right then, because life always loved fucking with him, the lights and the music went out.

There was a deafening silence for a moment when everyone held their breath and then lights as bright as day came on. The crowd booed. "Oh for fuck's sake, it's the third time this month," Jaskier grumbled. “Sorry my dear but duty calls!”

He stepped down from his stool only to hoist himself up onto the bar. "Not to worry, gentlepeople!" he called out like he was standing on a stage rather than a drink-sticky counter. "The lights will go down and the music back on again as soon as our beloved Essi, Mistress of the house, puts that freaking generator back on! And in the meantime, if you would please allow this humble bard to entertain you,” he took a dramatic bow and rose up again. “Someone please toss me a folk guitar; drinks are on me!"

The crowd cheered and Jaskier got down behind the bar as one of the crew members passed over the guitar. He went off in a cheery song some people started singing along to, bathing in the crowd's energy like he breathed that very element.

Something funny and complicated was happening in Geralt's chest when a hand gently grabbed his arm.

"Come on, let's go!" Yen. "It was getting boring anyway!"

Geralt squinted at her.

"You were dancing on a table,"

"Yeah, exactly!"

It didn’t make the slightest sense but most of his conversations with Yen ended with her radiating with knowledge and him feeling stupid anyway.

"I was talking with someone," he said and instantly felt like a small child very proud to say he made a friend.

"You were what?" her voice pitched up and Geralt could tell she was a bit on the tipsy side. "Where are they?"

He looked around and back towards the other side of the bar where Jaskier was singing and playing among the crowd, flawlessly winking and flirting with every person around.

"You're right,” his voice sounded strained even to his own ears and he had to blame it on the sleepless nights. “Let's go."

It had been two weeks since they had secured the Jackdows contract and Geralt was still deep in paperwork. He'd taken yet another two-hour video call with Alveaenerle and he was starting to think that maybe Triss was right and the woman was mostly dealing with him for his looks rather than for the sake of legal liaison.

He heard the elevator doors open and checked the clock. It wouldn’t be the first time he had worked through the whole night, only noticing at 4am when the janitor came in that he had forgotten to go home. Since then, he had promised Ciri he would try to get decent amounts of sleep while she was away at Yen’s and he didn’t like breaking his promises.

When he looked through the glass wall of his shared office, however, he didn’t see the janitor. Instead, and he checked twice in case it might have been a case of insomnia-induced hallucination, Jaskier was standing in the hall. He seemed hesitant, looking right and left for any indication that he was in the right place until he saw Geralt through the office’s glass walls.

They blinked at each other, seemingly unable to move until Jaskier slowly raised a hand and waved. Geralt kicked himself and walked out of his office.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, looking a bit sheepish. "Remember me?"

“What are you doing here?” Geralt asked, straightforward as ever.

“Uh,” Jaskier said. “The security guy let me in. He must have thought I was a delivery boy or something. I uh, I got your favourite,” he raised a hand holding a paper bag that Geralt had been too distracted to notice. “From across the street? Oh! Your friend Tiff was at the bar. She said you were still at work so I thought you’d like to have dinner maybe? And like, not with me, necessarily, just, you gotta eat right?” His words were starting to run together, and Geralt didn’t see any end in sight. “And so I figured, the place across the street, they had to know your favourite. ‘Big lawyer man with long white hair’ doesn't fit many of their clients' profiles. Anyway, dinner. For you. I could stay too, if you want, I mean I am simply starving-” he emphasized the word and then looked panicked again. “Wait, was that a yes, by the way? You know who I am, right? Otherwise this is going to get so awkward-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted.

“Yes!" He beamed. "That's me. Jaskier."

“I’m still not sure what you’re doing here.”

Jaskier froze for a moment, losing his shine. “We didn’t get to finish that conversation the other night. I thought that maybe...” Balancing his weight from a feet to another, he looked younger in the office light. He didn't finish his sentence, and looked like he was waiting for Geralt to respond.

“I’m working.”

“Right.”

“I’m at work,” Geralt gestured back at his office.

“Yeah, I know, I just thought- I- You're right, this was a stupid idea. Invasive, even. God what am I doing-” he took a frantic step backwards, and then thrust out the paper bag in some sort of peace offering. “Well, you should have this anyway, I mean- you have to eat, right? I said that already. Did I say that already?” He put the paper bag down on the closest cubicle desk then started walking backwards. “Sorry for,” he gestured vaguely, “showing up like that. Uh. It won’t happen again.”

Jaskier turned around, starting towards the elevators with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, and Geralt thought he heard him swearing under his breath something that sounded very much like ‘such a fucking idiot’.

An uneasy feeling filled Geralt’s chest as he watched Jaskier walk away. He didn’t know what he was doing and he didn’t know what he wanted or why he wanted anything but he knew he didn't want this.

“Jaskier,” he called and felt so very glad no one else was working late on his floor.

“Yeah?” Jaskier turned back instantly, his face lit up by a beacon of hope.

“Do you… Do you do this often?” he asked hesitantly and felt stupid about it as soon as he heard himself. There was a beat of Jaskier looking around at the empty place before he walked back towards Geralt slowly.

“Chasing down a guy I talked to for thirty minutes because I just can’t fucking stop thinking about him? No. No, I don’t. First time, actually.”

Geralt watched the musician, noting the soft, hopeful smile forming at the corner of his lips, the closing and opening of his hands at his sides, and the way the office light was reflecting in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Twenty minutes? I need to wrap something up. Then I’m free. For dinner.” Geralt amended.

Jaskier let go of the breath he had been holding and a full smile slowly graced his face again.

“Sure. Take your time. We can heat up the food at my place.”

If twenty minutes had been a promise, Geralt would have broken it. Ten minutes later, he was done with work for the day and on his way to Jaskier’s.

“So which one are you?" Jaskier asked, leaning over his kitchen counter after discarding the take-away wrappings. "VGB or Morhen?”

“Neither,”

“Oh. I thought you were.”

“Disappointed?”

Jaskier chuckled. “No. Well, a bit, I mean," he raised a shoulder lazily and faked disappointment, "I thought you were one of those big-shot lawyers.”

“I am. I’m just not a name partner.”

"So you're a regular partner then?"

“Just barely."

"Is that a thing?"

"Hmm." Geralt took a whole second to think about it and found himself oddly relaxed with answering the question. “I have a daughter.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s voice was oddly tight.

“Yen and I have a deal. She leads the boat on the job side, excels and enjoys herself in the career she’s always wanted and worked so hard for. I pull the hours she needs me to but our focus is our daughter.”

“You and Yen.”

“Yes.”

"Wait, like Triss's dancing on tables Yenna?" Jaskier’s eyes were widening in realisation.

"Yes."

"Is she Morhen?"

Geralt shook his head. "Vengerberg."

"And she’s your ex."

"Yes."

“Are you still-”

“Friends, yes.”

Jaskier nodded slowly and seemed to be thinking about something. He put his glass away and leaned against the counter, closer to Geralt. “Do you know what you’re doing here, Geralt?” he asked so low it was almost a whisper.

Geralt couldn’t help but cast a look at his lips. “Not really.”

Jaskier slowly slipped his hand up Geralt’s forearm and the hair at the back of his neck rose.

“I was thinking maybe I could kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Geralt found himself suddenly very much too out of breath to answer.

"Geralt?"

"Yes."

"Yes, as in you're still with me or yes-"

"Both." Geralt interrupted before he had the chance to change his mind.

Jaskier looked surprised for a second then stood up on his toes to close the small space that was left between them. He pressed his lips against Geralt's; chaste and dry and sweet. When was the last time Geralt had been kissed like that? With care?

Jaskier's lips moved with his and Geralt felt the tip of the other man’s tongue against his lower lip, asking for permission. He granted it without question.

"Geralt?"

Geralt kissed him again and couldn't help the sigh that escaped when Jaskier's teeth grazed against his lips.

"Hmm?"

They shared another kiss.

"Couch?"

And another.

"Sure."

They parted only for the short time it took Jaskier to walk around the kitchen island. He led Geralt to the couch, pushing him slightly backwards to make the man sit so he could straddle his lap. Jaskier’s hips were thinner than those of Geralt’s usual partners. His shoulders were larger, his back more muscled, his arms- his whole body was fucking delightful and yet so very different, so very new.

"Jask?"

A kiss.

"Yeah?" It was more of a sigh of pleasure against his lips than a whisper.

"Remember when you asked-" Fuck, it was good. "About my-"

"Sorry, do you need me to stop?"

Something rumbled in Geralt’s chest, his voice almost a growl.

"No."

His hand found the back of Jaskier's neck and they sort of crashed again into each other. They kissed and kissed again and Geralt just didn't want to stop but things had to be said.

"Expertise," he finally managed.

"What?" Jaskier let go of his mouth and came back again for a peck before he sat back on his ankles to look at Geralt. His lips were red, his hair in disarray, his hand still hot on the side of Geralt’s neck. Geralt was fucked.

"Expertise," Geralt said, sitting up a bit straighter, settling his hands on Jaskier’s hips. "The other night. You asked about my area of expertise."

"Uh. Right."

Jaskier had a look on his face like someone had just interrupted his hot make-out session to talk about corporate law. Geralt would know, that had happened to him more times than he would admit.

"This isn't it."

"What?" Jaskier looked bewildered. His face was an open book of unguarded emotions and it made Geralt want to kiss him even more.

"My area of expertise. This isn’t it."

"Oh." Jaskier answered, distracted by a strand of hair that fell over Geralt's eyes. He plucked the strand up between deft fingers and tucked it behind Geralt’s ear. Then he blinked and backtracked. "Wait, kissing?"

"Men," Geralt said. "Men aren't my areas of expertise."

"Oh,” Jaskier said. His hand was suspended in the air behind Geralt’s ear. “Okay, you- Oh. Okay.” he whispered again, his hand dropping down to Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt wasn't sure why Jaskier was the one blushing.

Sexual orientation had never really been a topic of conversation for Geralt growing up. Emotions were already a complex enough subject to tackle, anything that went further than caring for his brothers was not recommended. Exploration was limited. As a young man, he had gone for what society told him were the easiest ways to get sexual release when he needed it (women) and then his life tangled with Yen's and other partners faded out from the realm of his interests. When Ciri had entered their life, his very own life had taken a whole new meaning. There was little that mattered except making his daughter happy. His own personal relationships were more of an afterthought.

"Well," Jaskier started again. "We don't have to- I mean it's okay. It's good. It's all good, darling. Do you- Do you need a breather? Do you- do you even want to be here?"

"I followed you willingly, didn't I?" Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow. Jaskier chuckled.

“It’s just- What if I mess up and deter you from ever enjoying another penis ever again?" he exaggerated, the dramatic flair evident in every line of his body. Geralt snorted.

"Hey! I have a duty to the penis community and I take it very seriously," Jaskier continued as if Geralt hadn’t brushed the thought off.

"The penis community," Geralt repeated, fake awe dripping in his voice.

"The penis kingdom, actually."

"The penis continent." Geraly offered, helpfully.

"Oh, that reminds me, talking about dicks: Nilfgaard, yay or nay?"

"Argh, shut up," he grabbed Jaskier's face unceremoniously and Jaskier laughed in the kiss. His hand brushed Geralt’s cheek and everything about him seemed to slow down. Jaskier broke apart from him, a smile still on his lips, and looked at Geralt steadily like any doubt and hesitation were forgotten.

"Just tell me what you like, darling,” he said.

"I like kissing you.”

"That’s a good start," he replied and granted Geralt’s request.

Jaskier lay his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and the muscles melted under the soft weight of them. He raised onto his knees and pushed Geralt back into the couch. Jaskier was slightly taller kneeling over him, and Geralt found something delightful in having to look up at someone.

Jaskier leaned in and caught Geralt’s lips between his. His kisses were softer, slower, deeper than a minute before. Like he was taking his time to enjoy every second, to make Geralt enjoy every second. One of Geralt’s hands moved from his hip to his lower back, inviting him closer, and Jaskier slid his hands around Geralt’s neck, arching slightly into the touch. There was an intimacy about it that Geralt hadn’t expected nor experienced in a long time.

Jaskier pressed his forehead against his at every breath, his hands caressing Geralt’s cheeks, sliding into Geralt’s hair, slowly making him shiver.

Jaskier’s arms were distracting. The shirt he’d been wearing on that evening at the bar hadn't given away any clue as to the gems that were hidden underneath those sleeves. There was something feral lying deep in Geralt’s belly that was definitely ready to be manhandled.

Geralt found himself sliding his hand under Jaskier’s shirt, feeling the hot skin under his fingers, tracing the muscles along his spine.

Jaskier quickly got the message and took his shirt off between breathless kisses. He started tugging at the buttons of Geralt's shirt while Geralt’s hands made themselves at home on every inch of skin they could find. He felt goosebumps form on Jaskier’s skin and used the distraction to start laying kisses on his neck, licking and sucking the skin and taking note of the softest noises Jaskier made. The tip of his fingers slid down the hairs of Jaskier’s chest as he nibbled the man’s collarbone, and found one of his nipples on the way. Geralt caressed it tentatively and felt the shiver that went through Jaskier’s whole body when he did. Jaskier’s fingers pulled abruptly at his shirt.

“Oh god, take your goddamn shirt off, please!” The request was more of a thready gasp than an actual sentence. Geralt laughed at his enthusiasm and finished unbuttoning his shirt.

“Is this okay?” Jaskier asked as he slid the shirt off Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt hummed approvingly and raised his arms when Jaskier grabbed his undershirt. They kept kissing until he felt Jaskier’s hands slowing down, tensing slightly against his chest until they were barely just touching him. He saw the look on Jaskier’s face when he parted from him and realised why he had stopped. Jaskier’s eyes were fixated on his torso, fingers hovering over one of his many scars.

“I can put the shirt back on if you want,” he offered and Jaskier’s eyes jumped back to his face.

“What? No, darling, no,” he rushed and grabbed Geralt’s face kindly, kissing him again. “I was just surprised. Is this okay? Can I- can I touch you?”

“Yeah. Of course you can,” he kissed Jaskier softly. “They haven’t hurt in a long time.”

“Can I ask- I know this isn’t the best of times but-" he bit his lip with hesitation. "Did someone do this to you?”

“Not one person in particular,” Geralt shrugged it off.

“Geralt,” Jaskier’s brow furrowed.

“Don’t worry about it,” he brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “It’s in the past.”

"Okay," Jaskier whispered and then, trying to lighten the mood he added, "was it, like, your secret service past?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

Jaskier snorted.

“Just tell me you’re not in a fight club.”

“In a what?” Geralt asked, frowning.

“A fight club.”

“I don’t know what that is,” he said, seemingly clueless.

“You know, a fi- oh, you ass!” Jaskier yelped, slapping him lightly on the pec and Geralt laughed, grabbing the back of Jaskier's thighs right below his bottom to make him slip even further into his lap.

“How would you like to take care of my ass?”

Jaskier almost choked on his own breath and turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Are you- do you mean literally?"

"I'm not a blushing virgin, Jaskier,” Geralt said matter-of-factly.

"I know, I just mean- well if you've never- I mean are you sure you want to? With me?"

It was a sensible question but Geralt didn't want to think about it for too long. Thinking would mean trying to make sense of things -feelings, desires. It would lead to labelling and wanting to belong and- he just hated words. Words had a tendency to make things real and unmovable. Actions were so, so much better.

"You're the one who knows what he's doing, here,” Geralt said. “I'd rather it be you doing the work."

"Uh," Jaskier said thoughtfully. He probably had a PhD in literature or something based on the improbable number of books and manuscripts lying around in his flat. Geralt had even seen a couple ones in the cereal cupboard which was apparently where Jaskier’s glasses went.

"Alright then. Just. Tell me if something is not working for you, alright?"

"I will. Now can we get back to business?"

"To defeat-"

"If you start singing right now I am getting out of here," he grabbed a handful of the musician’s ass.

"Oi!!" Jaskier complained in the fakest way possible. "Wait, hold on, does that mean you've seen Disney movies- what's your favourite one?"

Geralt raised yet another very serious eyebrow.

"Do you often discuss topics that make people think about their kids when they're trying to bed you-"

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry," Jaskier laughed and hid his face in Geralt's neck, full of shame. "How much do you hate me right now?" he muffled.

"Hmm," Geralt pondered, slowly sliding his fingers up Jaskier's spine. "You should probably find a way to make me forget about it."

"Hmm," Jaskier imitated, kissing the side of Geralt's neck and slowly making his way up to the man’s ear. "What if I took your pants off?" he whispered.

"Could be a start," Geralt admitted.

"What if we moved to my bed?"

"I was beginning to wonder if you had one of those."

"I can still fuck you over the kitchen counter if you're disappointed."

Geralt’s pupils dilated as he pictured himself bent over the piece of furniture, holding onto whatever he could while Jaskier pounded him restlessly.

"Bed. Now."

Geralt only got a quick look at the room (more books, more notebooks, cord instruments of all sorts and sizes) before Jaskier grabbed him by the belt and pushed him onto the bed. He followed quickly, straddling him and kissing him senseless until Geralt’s head hit the mattress.

"Can I t-" Jaskier started and Geralt tried to sit up, cutting him off with a kiss. He reached for his own belt, planning on taking his trousers off before Jaskier pressed against his shoulders and made him lie down again. He slid his fingers between Geralt’s, caressing his knuckles softly.

"Oh please, give me the honor."

Geralt almost growled with impatience and reached a hand out between Jaskier's legs, palming him through his jeans.

"Oh sweet Edith Eleanor Diana Poulton, you are not playing."

He got Geralt’s belt out of the way and undid his trousers. Geralt’s underwear followed halfway when Jaskier took the trousers off, leaving his ass bare on the sheets and the hem of his briefs so low on his hips it was practically at the base of his cock. He tried taking his briefs off entirely, feeling silly and oddly vulnerable being halfway undressed but Jaskier batted his hands off and kissed him again. He slid a hand through Geralt’s pubic hair and slowly, incredibly slowly, down, and after what felt like a thousand years, finally closed his hand around Geralt’s cock and pulled.

Geralt pushed the back of his head into the mattress and closed his eyes as if he was at risk of losing sight if he left them open. Jaskier kissed him through the first moan of pleasure and quickly was all over him. Jaskier was kissing and licking and touching and stroking and Geralt was having quite a hard time trying to do much more than let his hand grab onto Jaskier’s hair and do his best not to sound too desperate. He was absolutely failing.

“Is this good, darling?” Jaskier whispered, kissing his neck up to his jaw and softly biting the skin there as his hand kept stroking him.

"Hmm," was all Geralt could manage and he felt Jaskier smile against his skin.

"Tell me?"

"Ah,” Geralt’s hands were moving somewhat erratically, trying to hold onto any part of Jaskier that would make him feel anchored and not as if he was going to lose his mind before he got the man’s socks off. “Yes."

"You're so good darling,” Jaskier’s kindness, Geralt vaguely decided, was fucking obscene. “You're doing so good."

Geralt felt himself blush, having no idea how any blood could flow to his face since he was pretty sure all of it was rushing to his dick. He wasn't going to last long at this rate.

"I want- I want to touch you too."

Jaskier let him open his jeans and moaned into his mouth when Geralt finally got his hand into his underwear.

“Jaskier,” he warned and Jaskier slowed down the working of his own hands.

“You alright, love?” he whispered, voice broken with pleasure.

Instead of an answer, Geralt sat up and pulled Jaskier's trousers to get his point across. Jaskier took his hands off him - the loss was fucking unbearable - to finally get rid of all remaining items of clothing and pressed himself against Geralt again, his hand on his neck. Geralt immediately got his arms around his middle to cradle him closer. Jaskier rocked slightly against him, their cocks pressing against each other and Geralt couldn't help but get a hand on both of them.

"Show me?" he croaked hoarsely and silently prayed that Jaskier wouldn’t make him beg for it because he definitely would. Instead Jaskier joined their hands together and guided him, pressing on Geralt's fingers to make him hold his cock tighter, moaning when Geralt's wrist angled exactly how he liked it.

"Oh god, yes. You're so good to me, love," he moaned.

It felt like forever and it felt like a blink. They rocked and they kissed and they moaned and Jaskier kept breathing sweet nonsense into his neck, praises into his ear, about how good he was and how good he felt and how well Jaskier would take care of him and how much he wanted to make him moan through the night but in the end, what got him over the edge was Jaskier digging his fingers onto the soft flesh of his ass, sliding in to brush against Geralt’s hole, and absolutely, definitely had nothing to do with Jaskier crying out, “Oh love, you’re beautiful!”

Geralt lost a few seconds or maybe a minute or five over which Jaskier had apparently come all over his stomach too. Jaskier was catching his breath, lying with his forehead against Geralt’s chest, trying his best not to lay all his weight over him. Geralt found the back of Jaskier’s neck, his fingers going up through his hair and drawing a comfortable groan from him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pushing on his arm to lie a few centimeters away, his head propped over Geralt’s shoulder, their legs still intertwined together. Jaskier’s arm stretched over Geralt’s middle and the tingly waves of left-over pleasure washed over them both with every breath, content tiredness slowly taking over.

A few minutes later Geralt extracted himself from Jaskier’s grasp, not without some difficulty, and convinced himself to clean up. Washing his hands in front of the bathroom mirror, Geralt looked back at Jaskier’s face hovering over his shoulder as Jaskier pressed his chest against his back. Eyes closed, Jaskier asked: “D’you want to stay?”

Vaguely wondering about the last time he felt as comfortable as this with someone and then pushing the thought away, Geralt’s eyes lowered, looking at Jaskier’s arms settled around his body.

He felt Jaskier’s lips move into a loopy smile against his skin when he answered:

“Hmm.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my writing #no warnings #geralt of rivia is a little dense and jaskier is very very pretty #mine: geraskier #mine: no warning #mine: himbo geralt #mine: modern au #mine: mature #mine: of fingers tongues and toes series

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honey-makki · 4 years

Text

Irreconcilable

Characters: Asahi Azumane X GN!Reader

Summary: Asahi’s mental health can be debilitating sometimes. Taking a toll on himself and relationships with others, but how far will they go to help him?

Warnings: depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts

Song: this is me trying- taylor swift

Genre: angst/comfort

Count: 2k

A/N: please head the warnings. this discusses and is an explicit portrayl of anxiety and depression with references to suicidal thoughts. it isn’t “fun” but nevertheless i think its good. at least it felt good to write,

Asahi hasn’t left his bed yet today, rather listening to the rain and staring up at the ceiling, wondering how long it’ll be before he can fall asleep again. This isn’t an uncommon situation for him, his figure shrouded in darkness and enveloped by the blankets on his bed. The occasional buzz of his phone goes unnoticed.

The darkness of the room shifts throughout the day, casting heavier shadows on his bed in the afternoon, shadows that he can feel the weight of on his chest. They mirror the heavy feeling in his heart and the discontent in his head. Would sorry have made any difference? It’s just a word, a word I would have struggled to even say.

The passage of time seems like its just a theoretical concept until the gnawing pain of hunger starts to peek through. He’s not hungry per se, but his body is telling him that three days without eating is way too long. The tinge of pain is a welcome feeling, no matter how fleeting.

It would still be a few hours before Asahi made his way to the kitchen, long after his flatmates are asleep, hoping to avoid an uncomfortable conversation. There isn’t a reason he can articulate for the way he looks, hair messy and unwashed, deep circles under his eyes despite sleeping most of the time, and his thinning frame drawing in his seemingly oversized old volleyball jacket.

He doesn’t even think he would try to come up with an excuse should they see him, the effort seeming monumental for little to no reward. He’s gotten to the point where he isn’t hiding it, any actions to make it easier to deal with, like using the kitchen sparingly and only at odd hours, are just due to convenience not fear of response.

Holding a bowl of cheese puffs and a long-forgotten packet of Takenoko No Sato Asahi makes his way back to his room, each footstep silent. Sitting in his desk chair he pops something in his mouth, not really sure if it was sweet or savory because to him they all taste the same, something akin to cardboard, or wood chips uncomfortably dry in his mouth.

The milk carton he grabbed out of the fridge doesn’t taste much better. It feels thick, so much so that he isn’t sure he will be able to swallow (or stomach) it. He might as well be drinking a bottle of unscented lotion, and even then that might be better.

He isn’t sure how long has passed since he keeps zoning out, but the bowl of leftover puffs look about as appetizing as styrofoam peanuts, and he knows that if he doesn’t get them out fo his room, he might be sick. Being sick is a lot more effort than sneaking to the kitchen, that is as long as it’s late.

He finally checks his phone after what has been, hours? A day? Maybe three days? It’s not the brightness of the screen that hurts, or the way all the notifications make his heart race, its the background picture that makes it nye impossible to use. Its you.

Seeing your smiling face next to his, he recognizes every single square millimeter of your face, long ago committed to memory. He could paint it blindfolded if he needed to, but the person next to you? He doesn’t see himself looking back. The clear skin, the glow, the beaming smile, the light in his eyes. Maybe its liveliness, maybe its adoration, maybe its gratitude, but regardless, he doesn’t retain nor deserves any of those emotions.

It’s his fault he’s here alone in his room staring at a bug climbing the wall. step. step. step. Each leg of the ant moving in unison, carrying it to some future that it can imagine. How depressing is it that an ant has a brighter future than I do? Every second he spends looking at the ant is one less second he is being drawn deeper into the tumultuous whirlpool of dread in his head.

The buzz of his phone clacks against the ceramic bowl, discordant in the otherwise silent room. The noise acts as a life preserver he feels oddly obligated to take out of the water, looking down to see your name across the screen. For the second time today, he feels something, earlier it was clearly defined and compartmentalized hunger, now? It’s a ceaseless swirl of resigned hopelessness, despair, anxiety, irritation, and a deep sense of being unworthy of all of these feelings.

Its easier when he isn’t reminded of you.

He doesn’t plan on responding to your simple ‘hey.’but the follow up of ‘dai said you aren’t well, let’s talk’ still everything but his mind. He can’t breathe in, he can’t move his thumbs to lock his phone or reply to you, all he can do is think about is how this could only go horribly wrong, but that you cared, at least cared enough about him to check-in. Even after everything he did.

Asahi: We can talk on the phone later I guess, y/n

Y/N: i’ll be over tonight at 7, i still have a key.

7pm. That’s 6 hours away according to his phone. The concept of time mattering feels foreign, should he nap? Take a shower? How long are normal showers? Should he clean his room? Does his room even need to be cleaned? Wash his sheets? Before long he finds himself on the floor, head in his hands with tears streaming down his face. He doesn’t recall getting there or starting to cry, it feels like the tears have always been there, each tear track carving out a trail in his skin, creating invisible canyons. They’re always there, maybe invisible or dry, but the tear tracks are still there.

The faint thud of his pulse ringing in his head is one of the only things his dulled sense can take in. he can’t place if he’s developed a migraine and the thud is twangs of pain or if he’s just, not here. Living what can only be described as the inverse of an out of body experience, everything else around him fading out into black, leaving him alone in an infinite black universe.

The weight of something on his head brings him back to earth. His head leans up and out of his peripheral sees your knees as you sit on his bed. A small whine leaves his throat as you begin to scratch and massage his scalp. Asahi can’t remember the last time he was touched by another person, and he doesn’t know how he lived so long without it. Your fingers are massaging fatigue out of his bones, undoing tension he’s caring in his shoulders.

It’s illogical that the light touches from each of your fingertips on his scalp can undo so much damage to his body, but that’s a skill you honed over time, and you can visibly see him become grounded.

“Asahi you know I can’t keep doing this. I would do this every day for the rest of my life if asked because I know it helps, but I hate seeing you like this. I’m scared that one day I’m going--” your chocked sobs are finally audible enough for him to perceive, “that you are gonna be too far gone. I wouldn’t be able to take that Asahi. Life without you is hard enough, I don’t want to imagine a world without you.”

He knew his mental health issues affected you, its the whole reason he left you in the first place, feeling guilty for you having to take care of him and him not making any progress. But he didn’t realize how scared you were. That he might just wither away, or suddenly not be here anymore. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought about it more than once, but never taking any tangible steps forward.

He still hasn’t said anything, but after a few minutes of you both crying, he just nods his head. You aren’t exactly sure what that means, but his voice croaks out, “help. I’ll get help.” The admission wasn’t something you expected but the hoarseness of his voice from crying or nonuse makes it all the more real. That maybe you were right to worry, and you were right to set this ultimatum.

A few hours later, you leave Asahi’s apartment, he fell asleep after you helped him bathe and changed his sheets. You left phone numbers of multiple psychologists and therapists, and an offer that you would make an appointment if he couldn’t find the willpower to do so. You have a cup of tea with Daichi before you leave, telling him about Asahi wanting to get help. You ask him to try to make sure that Asahi is doing at least the bare minimum or eating real food once a day and showering. Small steps eventually add up to a healthier person.

Months pass, where you and Asahi exchange a few text messages, detailing about he found a therapist, and his journey to find a medication that made him feel better and not worse. The conversations are long, but they always leave you hopeful about his progress.

You expected the knock on the door to be your take out but instead are looking at the chest of a much taller man. You look up to see Asahi’s face, a nervous smile looking down at you. His skin looks healthier, not as pallid or marred with deep sleeplessness, his hair is up in a bun, but you can see how much healthier it looks. The most notable change is that you can see light in his eyes. There’s something in there, hope maybe or just contentment with his growth. But there’s something, something that he made on his own and can hold onto.

Sure there are still signs that he isn’t fully back to the Asahi you met a long time ago, his hair is still thin, his frame is still not as filled out as it once was, but is definitely in a healthier range, his smile isn’t 100% confident and doesn’t seem to fully reach his eyes, but he looks good. And if he’s here, he must be feeling good.

“Hey y/n, I’ve been doing a lot better recently and my therapist said I should come and speak my mind. First, let me give you the most genuine and heartfelt thank you I can muster. If you hadn’t said what you did that one evening, I would never have gotten help and I honestly might not be here.”

His words are confident and sincere. They sound a little rehearsed, which is endearing. Asahi was never the most eloquent or poised person when it comes to feelings, but his declarations of love were always true in the deepest sense of the word. You couldn’t contain the smile on your face even if you wanted to, not when he’s done so much, not when he’s trying so hard.

“I might perceive the world as darker and more hellish than it actually is sometimes, but I’m gonna try again and again to soothe my heart and pick the flowers growing in the midst of hell. You are one of those flowers, a light in the darkness that motivates and assures me that all is well. If you would like, I want to grab coffee with you, like old times.”

Your bodies are bathed in golden sunlight from the window behind you, giving your nod a lucent halo. The halo fades as you step out and close the door behind you, but the glow doesn’t, it’s part of him, part of you.

Tags

@ceo-of-daichi @haikyuuhotline @sugawara-sweetheart @nonexistent-social-life @laughingismorefun @iguessimastannow

#asahi #azumane asahi #asahi azumane #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #hq!!#hq!! fanfiction #asahi x y/n #asahi x reader #asahi azumane x y/n #asahi azumane x reader #kristen writes #folklore series #folklore #tw depression #tw anxiety #tw suicide

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yoonzinow · 4 years

Text

red moon - k.mg

➺ inspired by gose’s bad clue episode, mingyu tells his side of the story

• warnings and note: mentions of s*icide, death, angsty angst, the reader’s medical license should probably be taken away lol, over use of the word endearing, lots of difference from the episode, also, Jeonghan, I’m so sorry. There is a lil romantic epilogue in the end but it’s optional, I just had to because I’m too soft and I love happy endings. Sorry if it’s all of the sudden, but if I extended too much it would be too long and I’m not that creative. Again, forgive any typos and I really hope it doesn’t suck ♥

• wc: 9.9k

Your office was simple. Even if you wanted to make it feel more like home, there wasn’t much that could be done. The most you could manage to get was a tapestry hanging on the wall. Even though the inmates were cuffed during the sessions, it was still required to remove any potential harmful object, as well as strong colors or shapes that could be triggering. There weren’t any pictures, ornaments or sculptures of any kind. It was just the locker, a table and two similar chairs.

You were still standing up, waiting for him to come in. You would usually wait for the patient to choose where they sit, but this time, it wasn’t that. It was simply because you froze in place.

-Come in. – you tried not to sound as small as you felt.

After the second noise, the door opened slowly, revealing the most confusing thing you could imagine seeing.

If you’re told you’ll be meeting a criminal, a murderer, the child in your head makes this image of a monster, a creature you wouldn’t want to look in the eyes. But the moment you laid eyes on Mingyu, you saw everything. Pain, confusion, grief and something else you couldn’t yet pin point. All of that in a face sculpted by the angels themselves.

-You can have a seat. – you pointed to the table, but not a specific chair. He sat down on the one closest to him. The guards locked his handcuffs to the hook on the table and left to wait outside. You bowed lightly and waited for the door to close. Walking towards the table, you sat down. The first thought when he first looked at you was that somehow, he knew. You wondered if anything would give away, even though it was highly unlikely.

-So, first of all, how would you like me to call you?

-Mingyu is fine. And you? Doctor? Ms.? Mam? – although his words could come out as cocky, he had a boyish charm that gave him an endearing look. It was like he sat next to you in a park and was simply trying to start conversation. It was like he wasn’t in therapy to understand his crimes. You just had to decide whether it made your job harder or simply more of a challenge.

-Doctor. – you feared you sounded a bit harsh, but it was probably your mind telling you he knew.

-So tell me a little about yourself. – you put your notepad on the table and the pen on your lap, in a force of habit.

-Could you be a bit more specific, doctor? I mean, there’s a lot about me. My past, my present, my preferences, my fears. So, any particular topic I should start with? – again, he didn’t sound cocky. He was genuinely asking.

-Hum… Yeah, it’s a bit of a vague question. Let’s start differently. How are you feeling today?

Like any other patient, you didn’t immediately take notes. Most of them weren’t exactly happy for being arrested, so at first, you tried your best to avoid triggering even more anger, making them feel analyzed instead of heard. Regardless of the backstory you had, Mingyu wouldn’t be any different.

-I’m a very sensitive person. I felt different kinds of distinct emotions since I woke up. – he took a deep breath. –First, I looked around the boring cell and felt… Well, I’m not sure what the feeling was but I guess I had a quick flashback of the recent past. I was quickly interrupted by a short yet stout guard with weirdly thin eyebrows. His grumpy expression mixed with curiosity of what was waiting for me here just made me feel… - he looked around as if he was searching for the right word. –Anxious, to put it simply.

Simply. You wondered what he’d say if wording it the complex way.

-So, what did you think about this place? I mean, what did you expect it to be?

-Honestly? I had no idea, but at the same time, I guess I knew. – he showed a bit of a sad smile. – I guess… - again, he paused. He was constantly trying to find the right words. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was naturally articulated when speaking or if he simply was trying to make your job easy. –I knew it would be visually boring. Why bother decorating for this kind of people, right? – again, he smiled sadly. –But to be honest, I also wondered how I would feel like, spiritually, maybe.

Looking at him was a very interesting thing. His words were obviously heavy in meaning, but what really caught your attention was his body language. As he continued talking about his expectations, he kept smiling as if trying to convince himself that it wasn’t that bad. But he knew it was, and it wasn’t likely to get any better, at least not anytime soon. He was relaxed in his seat, at the same time, holding a firm, polite posture. Giving his medical record, it wasn’t his first time doing that, except this time, it wasn’t about how he felt, it was about what he’s done. He also showed something unknown. His expression had this sort of acceptance to it, as if he knew that his fate was already determined and there was no way back. However, that meant he had something inside that he wasn’t showing completely, and something told you that he wouldn’t. Ever.

Or maybe he did already. You just didn’t pick up.

5 weeks later

The things were going smoothly with Mingyu’s daily sessions. The problem is: you didn’t start talking about the crime itself. You decided to approach him slowly, making him feel somehow safe to open up. Even though he was talkative and cooperated most of the time, there was still something about him that wasn’t being shown. The first troubled feelings and fear that treating him would be wrong was being vanished a lot faster than you thought. Sure, sometimes it would hit you that the man in front of you killed someone you were fond of, but the professional part of you needed to go deeper. Mingyu was polite, kind, not to mention his ridiculously handsome looks. It intrigued you very, very much. How could this be the same man who murdered six people in one night?

But you knew you had to get into the part of his life that led him to this fate. It would be hard and scary, yet intriguing and fascinating.

He entered the room with a smile that was now genuine. It wasn’t that wide or cheerful, but simply out of well manners. The whole process of cuffing him to the table was finished and the guards left. It was quite soon, but you would, eventually, tell the security that the cuffs were no longer needed, as you did with every other patient whose behavior didn’t come as threatening.

-Good morning, doctor.

-Good morning. How are you today?

-The same as yesterday. – he shrugged slightly.

-Okay. – you nodded, ready to jump to the next question. – I have to ask you a question and you might think I’m a bit late for that but… how are you feeling in general, about being here? And by ‘general’ I mean both physically and mentally. How is it that you are settling in the facilities?

-Well, I understand why you took the time to ask that. Obviously the first couple of days can be terrible. But honestly? If we’re talking about the facilities and the overall routine, I can definitely say it’s not that bad. I have a lot more freedom than I thought, so do the other patients. At least the non-violent ones. I won’t say I’m happy, of course. But it could be much, much worse.

-I see. I’m glad you are settling in. Have you made any acquaintances yet?

-I did, actually. I usually have long talks with this older lady when we have the common room time. And I’m also very close with this kid called Hiro, you know him?

-No, not really. He’s not with me. In fact, I don’t really recall that name. Is he Japanese?

-Nope. – he emphasized the ‘p’, amused with the story. –I actually don’t know his name, but that’s what he wants to be called. He doesn’t really talk about his past that much but he wants to leave it behind. So he decided he will be the man he wished he was. He chose his own name and his story began here, so he doesn’t really feel like he’s been locked up, but simply lives here? Don’t know if you got it but yeah. He’s a lot of fun to be around.

You never heard of that patient but you heard similar stories from the other doctors, since it was a huge facility with a lot of professionals, there was no way one could know about every case.

-I’m glad. I hope you can keep up. I heard you were very cooperative last Friday on the game night. You helped a lot before and after cleaning up. Does it feel good to be helpful?

-Yes, it does. – his response came quickly with the most adorable smile you have ever seen, making him look like a proud child. It made your heart clench a little, because you knew the course of the conversation was to bring no reason to smile.

-So, tell me. How do you feel about talking about your past? – you tried to be as careful as possible, not wanting to crash down the amused aura he had previously.

-Honestly? Not great. But also, I was kind of prepared. It’s therapy for inmates, of course I’d have to talk eventually.

His words felt like lots of pounds taken from your back. Mingyu showed himself as more and more mature as time went by and you couldn’t be more satisfied. He knew what you were doing, and he was by no means confused or scared. Sure, talking about the amount of abuse he had to face wouldn’t be a pleasant thing to do, but he knew it was the right thing to do in order to let you do your job.

-That’s true. It’s a very good thing that you know it’s a vital step for us. So, is it okay if I ask you some questions now?

He only nodded.

-Do you understand why you’re here? Not in the office, in the Hospital. – he pouted slightly, but you continued. – You don’t have to explain or tell me in detail. Just tell me if you understand.

-Yes, I do. I mean, I know why. Not sure if I comprehend, but I understand.

You liked the way he worded it. In fact, every single one of his sentences was captivating in their own way.

-Alright. We’ll get back to it later. But I have another question. Where do you think you should be right now? – you were genuinely curious about his answer. You feared he would say something harmful, or go to a more generic path and try to make you feel bad about him, but once again, he took a different turn from which you would expect.

-I should be in a loving home, in the company of a family, or, at least, of people that care about me. Oddly enough, I think I deserve it.

-I don’t think it’s odd. Everybody deserves it. You can say it with confidence.

-Isn’t it, though? I mean, I had family. But look where we are now. Do I really deserve a family that loves me if I got rid of the one I had?

You were in loss of words. He was one step ahead of you, as if he knew already the whole process. Half of you wanted to say to the board: ‘’Okay, tell the judge this man has no need for therapy, because he is more aware of this own emotions than any person declared sane you ever seen.’’

But the other half… That one had this little voice saying it was a matter of time before you found something lurking, waiting to jump on you and make all of your work go to waste.

-Before everything that happened, did you feel for those who were your relatives any kind of emotion that resembles a family kind of notion?

He thought for a minute, surprisingly, not giving you a quick response.

-Well, you can say that. I felt some kind of safety, but not the emotional kind. It was like… If I got into an accident or something, someone would be there to pay the hospital bills and such. It’s not the warm kind of safety but I guess it counts.

So does my insurance company, you thought. -Did you feel loved?

-I guess I’ll never know. I don’t know what if feels like to be loved, so I don’t really have anything to compare with.

Your heart broke a little by hearing his words. Whether he was a great actor or he was simply lonely. Completely, utterly, devastatingly lonely.

-So, what did yo- before you could finish your question, a screeching sound came from the speakers, making you jump from your seat.

-What was that? – Mingyu covered his ears with a pained expression from the disturbing noise.

-An inmate escaped. All of the doors will be locked for a while. – you tried to sound calm but it was always stressing when the sirens went off.

-How the fuck did someone escape? Seriously, there are more guards than prisoners here.

-It’s fine, they can’t go too far. It’s all the same security system all over the facility. The electrical fences automatically increase in voltage.

You didn’t actually think Mingyu would try to escape, but you chose to remind him there was no use trying. Getting off of a cell wasn’t impossible, or escaping from kitchen duty, maybe. Escaping the Hospital was a whole different story. So, it was better to just enforce the information to him.

Soon, a second noise, a shorter one was heard, signaling the inmate was found. However, the session had to be stopped. Every patient must go back to their room once someone tries to escape, for head count.

-As the door opens, the guards will come get you and you’ll go back to your room. I’ll have to warn you, though, they might get a little rough. These attempts of escaping make them a bit angry, just so you prepare for some sort of aggression. Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them anyway. But they do get a little…

-I get it. – he looked at you with an understanding complexion. –Thank you for warning me.

But were you really warning him? Or you were trying to prepare yourself to a potential scene of him being treated badly?

Mingyu didn’t have his sessions for the next two days after the attempt of escaping of a patient. All of them were put in some sort of lockdown, as an indirect warning. Later that day, he would be coming back, and you were strangely excited. You told yourself over and over again that it was only because you were still curious about the story he was about to tell you, but deep down, you knew there was something else. You could almost say you missed him, even though it was a terrible thing to even think about.

You just needed some time to cool down, so you chose a nice, calm walk through the garden. Everything was back to normal, so it wouldn’t be that boring to walk through the hospital.

The Sun was shining in its full glory, making everything around you seem brighter and more alive. You felt warm inside and out. A few older patients were sitting on a wooden bench, not really talking much, just admiring it all. Some younger ones were cleaning up and looking around.

At the back, there was this little area with a fairy garden kind of vibe. There were flower spirals and two swings, always busy with someone playing like a child. It made you giggle.

However, your smile faltered and you stopped in your tracks. There he was, sitting on the grass, admiring a humming bird kissing a flower.

As a patient called your name, his attention was brought to you. A girl with a shy smile and a flower in her hair came to you.

-Good morning doctor. It’s been a while! – she signaled you to come closer and used her hand to cover her mouth as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear. –To be honest, my current doctor has nothing on you.

You chuckled a little.

-Well, I hope you get along eventually. But for the record, I miss you. – you winked a little. –By the way, you look stunning. – you pointed at her hair.

-Oh. – she reached for the flower and put it on the back of your ear. –Now you look stunning too.

-Oh my, thank you so much! – you smiled widely, with warmth coming from your heart. –But what about you?

-I look pretty without it too. – she covered her mouth as she chuckled. –But if I want another flower, I know where to get it. She walked away, bouncing a little as she happily returned to the people she was playing with. As you brought your attention back to Mingyu, you saw him smiling, fond of the scene that he just saw. You wondered if you should go talk to him or just wave and leave. Apparently, your legs made that choice for you, seeing as you were already walking towards him.

-You look very good. – he said, admiring your features.

-You like my new gift? – you smiled, pointing at the flower you just got.

-I do, I do. – his look became a bit more serious. –But it’s not all. You look… I don’t know. You’re kind of glowing.

You gulped hard. In your sessions, you had your ways of being stern and diverting the situation, but there, just hanging out on the garden, you weren’t sure how to react. Luckily, he didn’t let you wonder too hard and just changed the topic.

-Your patients really admire you, huh? – he asked and motioned his head to his side, silently asking you to sit down.

You straightened your medical coat and sat next to him in the grass.

-It does make me really happy to think so.

He nodded in agreement.

-Me included, doctor. – his voice was small, barely audible.

-I’m sorry? – you asked in hopes he wouldn’t say something that could make you blush. The natural light would make it impossible to cover.

-I admire you. As a professional, of course. – it was endearing how he made sure his words weren’t misunderstood. You just hated the fact that you were expecting something else. –And trust me, -he continued- I have been to a lot of doctors. You listen to me, like really listen. To this person right here, not the boy they wrote I am on that medical record. I never felt the need of showing the real one to anyone because nobody would understand. That is until I met you. I feel safer being with you for this past weeks than I ever felt with doctors that treated me for months.

You completely froze. His words gave you a million sensations all at once, making all of what you thought about your job go to waste. You were a professional, you should be glad that you were doing your job properly. But this? This was affecting you in a completely personal level. It was the pride of achievement, except, not labor related. It was the good feeling of having a special place in the mind of someone you were growing fond of.

Maybe it started slowly, or maybe there was this one moment when one of his sweet words penetrated your soul and made you see something you haven’t before with a patient. It was this hunger for more, this need of understanding that man and even a bit of anxiety to find reasons to de criminalize him. Maybe you were growing the same affection you did in every case, only seeing it more intensely for some reason. Or, in the worst case scenario, you were happy you made him happy. Because you wanted him to be happy.

Not only cured, but happy.

You thought about a million words to use but none of those would hide your fear. You knew that a single word could make you look guilty, for something you were yet to find out.

-It’s almost lunch time. I have to go fill some papers but I’ll see you later, yeah? – you stood up quickly, shaking any piece of grass out of you. -Can’t wait. – he showed you his smile, as sweet as everything else about Kim Mingyu.

It was a nurse’s birthday, which explained the buzz and laughter coming from the staff’s kitchen.

-Oh, hey doctor.

You turned around to see whose voice was calling you. It was dr. Byeon, one of the older doctors. He was a nice old man, but didn’t talk much. Usually, the older doctors would have the that superiority complex, always saying they knew better. DR. Byeon, however, had faith in the next generations. He tried to teach the younger ones subtly, not wanting any credit.

-Dr. Byeon. – you bowed and smiled at the old man. –How are you doing today, sir?

He chuckled a little, probably not used to others going for small talk. That was a heavy energy place, but you tried to make the people around you feel more at ease. He liked that.

-I am doing just fine. In case you didn’t notice, I have a piece of cake I’m about to eat. – he giggled, happily looking at the chocolate cake in the plate he was holding. –There are fancier ones from big bakeries, but this one here was made by our beloved Nana. - He was referring to one of the most admired workers of the place, a sweet and kind old lady that worked at the kitchen since 30 years ago.

-Oh, don’t mind if I do. I’m with you on this one, sir. Nothing can beat our Nana’s baking, right?

Dr. Byeon smiled at your words, and then back to his cake.

-Well, I must go find some cake before it’s all gone. – you told him and he nodded.

-You should, sweetheart. There are a lot of delicious food there. Go eat it, I can see your bones! – he joked dramatically.

-Oh really? So you have X-Ray vision, sir? –you asked and both of you laughed.

-Alright, I’ll take something and leave because I have work soon.

-Yes, yes. – dr. Byeon nodded.

-It was very nice seeing you, doctor! –you walked away but after a couple of steps, he called your name once again. When you looked back, he started speaking again.

-There is something different about you lately. – he said.

You tilted your head to the side, trying to remember if you had a haircut or something visible. Maybe you were more tired than usual and your eye bags weren’t at all forgiving.

-Me? How so? I don’t think I have done anything unusual, my last haircut has a while ago.

-No, no. It’s not that. You are… glowing, one could say?

Your expression was clearly a confused one, so he snapped you out of any worries.

-Don’t worry, it’s a good thing! If anything, you look happy. – he waved a little and left you first. You stood there for a second, with nothing much to think.

It has to be a good thing, right?

Mingyu’s POV

As he heard the sound of the main door to the dorms open, he started to get out of his bed where he just took an afternoon nap, or at least tried. He knew his session would be happening soon, so sleep was out of question.

Mingyu knew that the sound meant the guard was coming to take him to you, which left a bittersweet sensation inside of him. Part of him was excited, like a kid about to open Christmas presents, because he knew that he would enter the room and you would be there, waiting for him. Sometimes, you were doodling on the last page of your notebook and closed it very quickly when they showed up. But your eyes would always find his first. You would greet the guards as well, but you would always look at him first. The other part of him, however, couldn’t stand still. He knew that you would start talking about his past and actions, but he also knew the answers were needed.

The thing is: Mingyu felt like such a fool. You wanted to see him happy because that was your job, but he wanted to see you happy because your smile was the most endearing thing he ever laid eyes on. Maybe it was all in his head and your eyes didn’t light up with his presence, but if in some universe it was true, he would be risking losing it. Of course, you knew how many people he killed, but hearing in details, knowing their names and stories might as well make you disgusted, and just the thought of losing the shine of your smile made him sick.

Or maybe… It’ll explain it all.

The corridor to your office was long, but there were a lot of entertaining things to see. There were other offices from other doctors and also different utility rooms, such as the game room, where the elders would play cards and board games, or the daycare, where the children of the employers would stay occasionally. It was a little weird to have that in a place with constant transit of handcuffed people, but he didn’t read too much into it.

When he finally arrived the thick metal door, there was that annoying screech he grew to enjoy, since it meant his session would start. Except that day, it almost made his heart jump out of his ribcage.

There you were, radiant as always. If not more.

This time, unlike others, when the guard approached to cuff him to the table, you stopped him.

-It’s okay, we won’t need it today. – you nodded politely to the guard, who only responded with a look that said something like ’suit yourself’’.

Mingyu’s heart once again beat alarmingly fast. You trusted he wouldn’t try anything, which he knew was true, but knowing that you believed it gave him a comforting warmth he hadn’t felt in a while.

He smiled in a silent ‘’thank you’’.

-I know we saw each other earlier today but I’d like to ask officially. How are you today? – you started as soon as the guards left.

-Honestly? I’m pretty nervous. – Mingyu knew there was no reason to deny it any further, so he chose to be straight forward.

-Hmm, and why is that? – you wrote something on the notebook, and it was one of the first times he was actually curious to know what it was.

-Last time our session was interrupted in a very crucial moment for me. And for you, I believe.

Mingyu was noticeably showing the relieve of being free of the cuffs, by making gestures and occasionally biting his nails.

-It was, it was… -you agreed and continued. –But are you okay to continue? Actually, to start?

With a dry throat and no idea of the right answer, he nodded.

-Where should I start? Will you ask me a specific question? – Mingyu asked and you perked an eyebrow.

-I could but… is there anything in particular you think I should know? – you leaned your elbows on the table and cradled your face in both hands, like a plead for a nugget. –If you only had a few seconds and sentences to explain what happened, what would you say?

Mingyu thought for a second. Sure, he wanted to see you happy, he wanted you to like him, but he didn’t really know what would be better. The truth, in his head, was crystal clear. But in yours, it could be read differently, or you simply wouldn’t believe. After pondering his options, he decided to tell you the truth. If anyone could understand it, it had to be you.

-I would say that I am not sick, troubled or crazy. I was faced with a situation that was basically a test to my patience. There was no mastermind planning to kill people for fun. It was only a moment of weakness that I regret very, very much. It was a risky move. The thing about being diagnosed ‘’crazy’’ is that no matter what you say next, will only make it worse, specially saying you’re okay. Maybe the majority of your patients would tell you they are not mentally ill, but there was this deep hope inside of him that you knew it was the truth. Something in your eyes made him believe that you saw the real boy sitting in front of you and that you would feel the truth to his words.

And every single bit of his sentence was true, specially the part about there not being mastermind behind the crimes. At least not for murder. That day, Mingyu told you his perspective of the story and could only pray you believed him, or else he might as well stop believing himself.

His childhood was no different from kids with rich families with secrets. He walked in angry phone calls and arguments when playing around the mansion he lived in as a kid, but since he was so young, nobody ever tried to distract him.

His relationship with his father wasn’t anything out of the usual. He was pretty busy and since his mother was no longer alive, Mingyu only had half of the parental attention, but this isn’t unusual.

At the age of five, Mingyu was too young to understand what happened to his father. The scene he walked in was devastating, but he only felt it in is instincts, that his father wasn’t okay. It took him some explanation, as well as you can explain to a child, but of course, with many excuses and holes he would only notice years later. By then, there were people making sure the story he would be telling later wouldn’t be validated.

Mingyu knew you were waiting for a story on how he planned the death of all those men. But the truth was: it wasn’t at all planned.

Even though Jeonghan knew he was the favorite son, it wasn’t enough for him. He never really liked the fact that he would always be the bastard and that would never change. Mingyu liked to have an uncle so close to his age. He and Jeonghan always played together as kids, but once Mingyu lost his father, they became closer, having more of a sibling relationship than anything. The boys had their discoveries and growth together, sharing everything. As they grew older, some stuff became a lot clearer. There were pieces of the story that wouldn’t fit, but they were now old enough to contest it.

The first thing Mingyu discovered was the abuse his father suffered from his grandfather. Even though he too was dead, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel betrayed, since he admired his grandfather with all his heart.

As time went by, Mingyu discovered more and more dirt on the family and their employers. They needed to find out which one of the sides was true, and if any of their doings and lies were justifiable. So they planned, not a murder, but a confrontation.

Mingyu and Jeonghan made sure all of the involved were invited to the gathering on the mansion, so they could force the truth out of them. That night, they would lock everyone in and start trying to solve the whole mess the family was involved in.

Mingyu and Jeonghan planned everything carefully. There would be a gathering at the mansion with all of the people involved somehow on the family scandal hidden up until then. So they made fancy invitations and made sure everything would go according to plan. The workers would be dismissed for the night and the guests would only be released once they confessed. It wasn’t anything out of the law technically. Unethical, maybe.

The day came and everything was ready to start. However, a few hours before the event, there was something that changed the entire course of the plan. Without telling Mingyu, Jeonghan hired a private investigator whose discoveries had been kept to himself until he found out the whole truth. But the detective chose to reveal it all in the night they would rip the truth from their mouth. Mingyu knew his family wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t think things would go that far.

The one Mingyu knew the most was his uncle Seokmin, who was relatively present in his life. Maybe it was the guilt for knowing how much Mingyu’s father suffered, since he was abused as well, both physically and mentally. That night, Mingyu realized the damage his grandfather caused: unlike his dad, Seokmin did not let himself lose the will to live. Instead, he turned the pain into something bad. The only thing he lost was his ability to care, and that is how he became the monster his father was. All the mess began with him, once he planned to murder his father to have his fortune. Also, deep down, to get his revenge. The only thing is: his father was killed before he could do it himself.

But his uncle wasn’t alone, and wasn’t the only one getting profit from the death of the president Kim Taesang.

At that point, Mingyu still thought the death of his grandfather had been an accident. Even though Seokmin wasn’t the one who killed him, he still intended to do so, except he lost his opportunity.

Kwon Soonyoung wouldn’t miss anything related to crimes, especially the ones involving corruption. A while back, the rumors that a coup was being set against the bSK board started to spread, and the reporter Kwon, of course, was there. There were a lot of suspects and too much money involved, which is why it was surprising that all of the sudden, Kwon Soonyoung stopped investigating. Back then, it wasn’t given that much attention, but giving the amount of effort Soonyoung would put in similar cases, it was extremely out of the ordinary.

Xu Minghao was the vice-president, and that made him one of the first suspects when the corruption scandal blew up. After a while, he managed to prove he wasn’t involved. That, however, was the only thing he was innocent from. The reasons why Minghao reached his position were far from noble, including a mountain of lies, blackmailing and other dirty doings. He wasn’t planning on steal the company per say, but he was guilty for throwing the dirt on the president, the dirt he planned himself. His relationship with Seokmin was good, better than the one he had with the president Kim. It would be a lot easier to take him down later so he had to make sure Seokmin took the spot. Minghao was too intelligent to simply plan a way to get rid of the president, so instead, he manipulated others to do his dirty work. He made sure Seokmin got the signs, being encouraged to dethrone his father. How would Seokmin get rid of the president? That didn’t matter to Minghao.

There were no innocent victims that night, but the person least deserving of his faith was the secretary Chwe. Chwe Hansol was a young man, who wasn’t too ambitious. He didn’t aim too high, yet, he didn’t want to lose what he already had.

Even though he started working for bSK at a very young age, he owned the trust and respect from president Kim. Eventually, Hansol was aware of what was happening and the abuse he used to cause his own sons. Hansol was also aware of the unethical ways bSK would profit, but kept silent about everything. So his destiny was set not by what he did, but what he didn’t do.

The plan was to find out what they had done to later decide what they would do about it. Except they now knew the story and, in a few hours, the men in question would be knocking on the door.

In the course of the next 43 minutes, hell broke loose between Kim Mingyu and Yoon Jeonghan. And that’s when it all started to go wrong.

Mingyu was telling the story looking at any flat surface, as if he was trying to visualize his memories in front of him. The words just spilled out of his mouth like they have been trapped for years. He was completely vulnerable as he shared the events of the worst night of his life. Most of the time, he kept his hands on his lap, circling his thumbs one around the other, again and again, sometimes, alternating the order. He sounded disappointed at himself, but somehow relieved. He considered the possibility of never telling the truth, because no one would believe him, and also, because of the guilt of saying it out loud and confirming to himself and to the world that he became a monster for a moment. And that moment would remain forever.

-What did you plan on doing when they got there? – you tried to sound calm and use the same tone you would in any situation and any ordinary topic. You needed him to feel like no matter what he said, you would not stop helping him.

-At first, when we first got the idea, we would corner them and try to force the truth out of them. Up until earlier that day, that was the plan. But Jeonghan’s news catch me by surprise. He was working with a private investigator called Lee Jihoon. This investigator found out all of the crimes committed by the company and their employers and sent it to Jeonghan. – you could see Mingyu getting more anxious, like he was circling the topic to finally reach the climax.

-Okay. What was the new plan? – you tried to hide the slight hesitation in your voice, showing confidence in your questionnaire.

-You know what it was. – the sentence itself was intimidating, but as Mingyu voiced it, it sounded nothing but embarrassing. And then he continued.

The night of the crime

-We have to call it off. Now that we know all of that, what are we supposed to say? All of that was planned so we could confront them, Jeonghan. What now? Shouldn’t we just leave it to the cops? – Mingyu was begging for his uncle who was sitting with his elbows on the arms of the chair, the tip of the big envelope touching his lips.

Jeonghan scoffed. –You are too naïve. Don’t you see? These people are bad, they have money and influence. What do you have? What do we have? The bastard and the crazy boy. What a great team.

-Crazy boy. That’s what you think of me? – Mingyu didn’t mean to sound as disappointed as he did.

-No, not at all. At least not me. Look, the little fucker I hired, Jihoon, - Jeonghan opened a smaller envelope that was on the top of the table. – he got his hands on your medical record. Wanna see it? – Mingyu wasn’t pleased with Jeonghan’s snobby tone but took the envelope from his hands.

The words written on it would stick to him forever. No matter what Mingyu said he saw, nobody would believe him. He was said to have multiple disorders and a person with no capacity to live without constant supervision. He was labeled as insane by the family doctor.

The moment Mingyu mentioned the name of Jeon Wonwoo, you curled your fingers inside the pocket of your coat. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to show emotions that were any different from the other names of the involved. It was a confusing feeling. A part of you thought, at first, that you would be secretly angry at Mingyu. At that point, you had no idea anymore. You were no longer afraid of it or him, but you were, to be honest, of your own feelings. Somehow and at some point it shifted all the way around. You wanted the closure to why Wonwoo was killed, but that moment, what you wanted the most was for Mingyu to give you a reason why he didn’t deserve to be there. You wanted not to be angry with Mingyu, but deep down you knew and it scared the shit out of you: no matter what he said, there was no way you wouldn’t be able to forgive him if I asked you once.

-I never understood why my family insisted on such a young doctor. When that guy was finishing med school, my family offered to help him pay his loans in exchange for him to work for them full time. The only answer to why is how easy it would be to manipulate him. The amount of money they would pay? He would do and say anything. Including invalidating me for the rest of the world. One word from him and pft. There goes my sanity. I could swear he needed to go through residency first before being able to diagnose me officially, but apparently there is a whole lot of shit that can’t be explained but can be bought.

You gulped as you listened. Mingyu was tired, was defeated. But he kept his chin up, continuing his story.

-But he wanted more. That’s when he formed some sort of alliance with my uncle and his attorney, Hong Jisoo, or Joshua, as he was known. The three of them had a plan, to poison my grandfather by using his simple sleeping medication mixed with another drug, making it lethal and easily looking like an accident. It would be pretty much undetected by exams, making it the perfect crime. But luckily for them, someone was faster. My grandfather died before they could kill him.

-How did your grandfather die, if I may ask?

-He was murdered. The amount of people wanting to kill you shall tell you the kind of person you are. That’s Kim Taesang for you.

-The prescriptions weren’t used. The drugs weren’t taken from the pharmacy. In fact, it wasn’t the same used to kill grandfather. They didn’t kill him, then who did? – Mingyu was still in shock about all the information, dizzy and blood pumping furiously on his chest.

-That means nothing. They could have changed their plan, change their method. I don’t care. And even if they didn’t kill him, they wanted to.

Mingyu wanted to believe Jeonghan had a point and he had the right to be angry, he really did. But it was too much information and so little time. They tried to place more than Mingyu could handle inside of him and there was no way it could end up well.

-Mingyu, you, me and my mother are the only people that could be called family. Now that my mother is gone, we only have each other. –Jeonghan was now hovering over Mingyu, who was sitting on the floor with his head on his hands. He was hyperventilating, crying and confused. –They are evil. They will keep doing those things if we don’t put a stop to it.

Mingyu raised his head and looked at Jeonghan with sad, red eyes.

-How do we stop them?

-That was one of the most frustrating things I ever felt. My uncle, my best friend. He was sitting there, trying to convince me that killing them was the right thing to do. And I was weak and agreed with him. No one would believe us. So we needed to do it fast.

You had too many questions you couldn’t ask, so you just let him keep talking.

-We would give them the same poison uncle Seokmin, dr. Wonwoo and Joshua would use on my grandfather. Only we would also take it, but a smaller dose, enough to put us to sleep for a few hours until the workers came back. We would give one of them an intermediate dose, so maybe he would survive and make the thing less suspicious, or so he would die in the hospital. It would be the secretary Hansol, probably. All of the confrontation went out the window. Instead, we just needed to make them thirsty.

-Thirsty? – you voiced and raised your eyebrow.

-Well, we put the drug on the water, so we needed all of them to drink willingly, in case there were survivors for some reason. We turned down the humidifier to make it extra dry inside and served spicy food.

-Oh, I see. But something went wrong, I suppose? I mean, your uncle Jeonghan died as well. Did you choose to kill him too? – there was a chance all of that story was bullshit and Mingyu killed them all after planning alone, trying to blame Jeonghan instead. But why would he only tell you in confidence? To manipulate you?

You needed more answers, so you waited.

-It wasn’t planned at all. I was nervous and scared and almost giving up. But they came in and I couldn’t back up anymore. If I told them the truth that moment, I would be locked up for good. So, guess who was there?

You shook your head ‘no’, waiting for him to say it.

-Lee Jihoon. – Mingyu sounded disappointed with himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. – That moment I realized Jeonghan already planned that before. He cornered me to agree with his plan because he needed help, and he gave me no time to tell anyone, that’s why he waited until only hours before the guests came. The investigator knew the whole story and he also knew Jeonghan was the one who hired him. When the news of their deaths showed up eventually, Jihoon would put two and two together. That was clear now. Jeonghan had planned that. – So I was ready to confront him when I overheard his conversation with Xu Minghao. He voiced clearly how much he despised my grandfather for lying about funding the payment for his mother medical treatment. He purposefully neglected her and it got her killed. The anger in his eyes got me thinking and I was almost sure Jeonghan was the one who killed my grandfather.

Mingyu took a deep breath and you knew he was about to tell you the crucial part of the story.

-I was a wreck, I had no idea how to fix that. If told everyone, I’m pretty sure Jeonghan would also make me look crazy. And then… then I saw it. Jeonghan was putting the mixture on my drink. Not the sleeping pills like he said he would. He couldn’t have any loose ends so he chose to kill me too. – a single tear slid down his cheek, followed by many others. His next sentence was messy and interrupted by hiccups as he started sobbing. –He was the only person I had, you know? And to see him trying to poison me, I mean… How could he do that? – he sniffed and rubbed his eyes like a child trying to stop crying. – At that moment I saw red. I completely blacked out from reality and I realized I had nothing left. So I changed our cups when he wasn’t looking and I watched him swallow his own venom.

You did the one thing you know you shouldn’t. Instead of handing him a tissue, you stood up and cradled him in your arms. He turned around instantly and wrapped his hands around you, burring his head on your chest. Why the fuck would I do that?

Seeing the state Mingyu was in opened a hole on the floor under your feet and you felt like your heart could burst at any second. To see the pain on that boy messed with your insides, making you throw your values out the barred window.

You kneeled on the floor next to him and dried a random tear falling from his eyes. You wanted to dry them all.

-I didn’t take my drink. – he said in a small voice.

You stood up and got back on your seat.

-I’m sorry?

-I didn’t do what Jeonghan planned. You know, to take a sleeping pill and pretend I was a survivor. – he looked deep inside your eyes. - Doctor, where would I go from there? I had no family. I had nothing and I knew nothing about life. I had no idea of what to do with my life and I knew I would never be able to forgive myself. I didn’t want the fortune, the presidency or whatever. I didn’t want to be alone and I lost the little I had. It was the wise choice to tell the truth. Well, most of it. So I hid some valuable objects in case I needed some money eventually and then I called the cops. It was awful. They treated me like an animal who didn’t understand human language. I didn’t bother telling anyone all of it and I expect you to keep it between us. No one will ever believe me, doctor, not even you I’m afraid. But I would never sleep properly again unless I trusted someone with this. So, thank you. I will lay me head on my pillow tonight and it will much, much lighter.

You heard him. You respected his secret and kept it with yourself. However, you didn’t promise him you would sit and wait. It was no longer about admiring him in a different way. Or maybe it was, maybe you were completely unprofessional and let yourself be manipulated, but either way, you made a decision not to stop until the world saw the Mingyu you saw.

It was a hard, a lot harder than you would ever think. It took three months for the board to keep track of Mingyu’s progress and your statements to finally get his case another trial. You had the help from an old time friend who was a lawyer, who walked you through the whole process. First, you stopped your sessions, putting Mingyu in a group therapy. You still talked on the garden where you would watch the humming birds. You tried not to tell him too much so he wouldn’t get his hopes up.

After four more months, his case was finally solved. Mingyu managed to open up to other doctors, realizing that yes, people might not believe you, but that shouldn’t keep you from telling the truth. He was being heard by other people, not only you, but that didn’t change the fact that it was you the one to wake that inside of him, the feeling that there was something for him out there, and that’s what he kept in mind as he walked away, finally free.

here comes the romantic ending, it’s completely optional though ♡

It was a lovely night, that one. It was only a few days after Mingyu’s discharge and you were over the moon. You knew you saved people from their own demons, but the feeling of bringing justice to Kim Mingyu was like nothing you ever felt before.

You could feel the night breeze coming from the windows and shaking the curtains, and watched as your cat played with a little plushy he was obsessed with. You were on your way to the bathroom to shower when someone knocked on your door.

Standing there, wearing a fluffy beige knit sweater was Mingyu. His smile was different, wider and more alive. Seeing him without the white uniform from the hospital was something else and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

-You look amazing. – the words slipped out of your lips before you realized.

-Thank you. – he gave you a cheeky, boyish smile. –I feel amazing. Although, there is something bothering me. I never got to say thank you.

-You don’t have to. I wish the world could apologize to you, though.

-Yah, stop saying nonsense. You have done more for me than the world. Just a little bit over a month you saw me and you trusted me. You listened to me in a human way, not only as a doctor. I used to believe that every day, but I tried to keep it real to myself. You were doing your job but… a part of me had hopes that you were seeing me. Me, not your patient. I would never cross that line before but I have to ask you.

-Ask me what? – your words were shaky, like the rest of your body. You were getting dizzy in the best way. It was like a childish, innocent feeling.

-Did you see me, for a moment, as anything other than a patient?

His eyes were wide, like his life depended on your answer.

-No, not for a moment. – his eyes fell to the floor, but before he could get too embarrassed, you continued, not realizing how bad the timing for the pause was. –Not one moment, but all of them.

That night, you shared your first kiss. In the moment his lips touched yours, you believe heaven has sent that man to you. You would never know if it was worth the trouble it could get you, the issues you would face and the way the world would look at it, at him, at you. All you knew was that Kim Mingyu had been mistreated by the world. He made a mistake, a big one that would never go away. He would still pay for it for a long time, but at that moment, the only thing he knew was that right there, by your side, he was finally feeling his place on the world, like he might actually deserve a chance to be happy.

-Won’t you lose your job because of me? – he asked, later that night.

-No. I mean, I’m not sure but… let’s not think about it now, okay?

-Okay. – he blinked a couple of times before closing his eyes and dozing off.

You asked for your vacation. You had three weeks and decided to do something different. By then, no one really knew about you and Mingyu going out. Even though you were early in the relationship, getting to know each other better, you were bonding more and more. It all happened fast, but you were not afraid, not even one bit. You came to learn that Mingyu wasn’t just a lost boy. He was an intelligent man who struggled a lot with his feelings, mostly because he didn’t feel like he was entitled to have a say on stuff.

You decided to go to the countryside with him. So both of you packed and drove all the way to the lodge you had been told about by a friend. It was in a smaller town, but still had a fair amount of buildings and stores, making it a very pleasing place to go around. The place you would be staying was a hostel owned by a couple in their 60’s. There were a few wooden cabins, two floor each with a smaller space on the top floor. The insides were cozy and warm, like the whole atmosphere of the moment. The wooden chair near the balcony on the top floor had a beautiful view to the lake nearby, with a stunning sunset.

-I could live here forever. –you said as you were about to fall asleep, your head buried on the crook of his neck, both of you under a blanket.

-Tell me about it. I don’t think I’m a city boy. This, right here, is heaven.

You had been staying there for a week and a half and you were pretty sure you weren’t leaving. You didn’t really have anything other than your job keeping you in the city, and you never felt more at ease than you had been in that small city.

You woke up and Mingyu was no longer in bed. Confused, you got out of the bed and went to the balcony. You were welcomed with the sight of the owner of the place showing Mingyu how to ride a tractor. He was laughing, happy. It was a genuine image, so special it almost rid of your head completely the image of the lonely boy in a prison uniform. That guy was still there, but he was blooming and that made your heart skip a beat.

You repeated to yourself silently.

I could live here forever.

2 YEARS LATER

Mingyu was still visiting doctors, going to therapy and being supervised by the local social workers. When he was done, he rushed to the construction utilities store he worked part time and rushed home to start his shift at the hostel. Mr. Jung, the owner, was very fond of Mingyu. The moment you and him both showed interest in moving to the city, he offered to help, showing everything around and offering Mingyu a job as a handyman in exchange for a place on a small cabin used by the eventual keepers, which he no longer needed. You moved after you found a job at the local hospital working with children in early stages of mental illness, wanting to prevent more kids from having their childhood traumas haunt them in the future.

Eventually, he found out about your relationship with Jeon Wonwoo. It wasn’t easy, it took a few days for him to process it all. Some part of him felt like you would wake up one day and realize you could never forgive him, but you made sure to remind him every day that you loved him with all your heart and that would never change.

It was already getting dark, but you probably were home already. Mingyu came home from the store and walked towards the little house he was now living. There were no maids, no luxury, nothing fancy. But there you were, playing with your cat and the now grown puppy you found abandoned in the road almost a year ago, sitting on the floor, legs crossed and the small dog jumping, trying to catch a toy in your hand. The way you would always run to him when you saw him coming home was enough to make Mingyu tear up. He felt all of the love he never got in his life in a single look, a single kiss, a single smile. He was happy, completely, entirely happy.

He knew he had done something bad. Still, Mingyu couldn’t help but wonder what amazing thing he could have possibly done to deserve to feel all of that love. It was dark once, but the clouds eventually disappeared and the sky was finally clear again. The blood moon was gone, but unlike the celestial event, it wouldn’t come back anytime soon.

a/n: that’s it! It’s a lot shorter than I thought it would be. Well, I kind of went through a dr. harleen quinzel vibe of ‘’she thought she was curing him but she was falling in love’’ in this, except mingyu is a good boy. I am very, VERY nervous to post but what the heck, let’s do this :D

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