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#i wouldn't even know what to do with a third chance
nana-gumi · 2 days
Note
I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋
anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru
pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader
cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe
a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p
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it was positive.
the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.
how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.
and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.
"hello?"
"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"
"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.
"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.
"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.
"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."
"mhm, i love you too."
-
if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.
and here he comes.
satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.
"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.
his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.
"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.
"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.
you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.
"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."
"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..
what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.
"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.
"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.
"4 months."
"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.
"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."
"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.
"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.
-
"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"
"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.
"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.
"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."
-
satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.
"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.
"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."
"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"
"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."
"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."
"no–"
"why are you being stubborn!"
"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.
"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.
"(name), please.."
"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?
satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.
"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.
"i swear will all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."
"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."
"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.
"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"
"love, please. i'm so sorry."
"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"
"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.
"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."
"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."
he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.
"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.
satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.
"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.
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a week has passed.
"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.
"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?
"how have you been?"
"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.
"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"
"no, i just don't feel well."
"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.
should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.
"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.
"you always say that."
-
"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.
you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.
"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.
"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.
"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.
"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.
is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?
"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.
"okay."
"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.
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"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.
"do you want to have one?"
"i'd love to have a happy family with you."
"is that so? but why sanyu?"
"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.
"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"
"instincts."
-
his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.
unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.
"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.
"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.
"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.
you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.
"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"
"okay. love love mama, papa."
-
you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. you're eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.
his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.
"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.
"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."
"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."
"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"
"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"
"well– he's doing good."
"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"
"of course. is it about satoru?"
"kind of?"
"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."
oh.
"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."
-
suguru arrived early than you expected it to.
"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.
"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"
"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.
"mama!"
"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.
"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.
"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the said.
"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.
"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.
"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.
-
"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.
"he's 4 years old."
"does satoru know?"
"no."
"then tell him." easier said than done.
"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.
"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.
"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."
"i understand, don't worry about it too much."
"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.
"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"
"okay, thank you.."
-
"you look like your papa."
"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."
"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.
"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.
"he is. and he loves your mama so much."
"then why is he always busy?"
"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not asked those type of questions as he frowned.
and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.
-
"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."
"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?
part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?
you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.
"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.
"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.
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satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.
"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.
"gojo–"
"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"
get straight to the point.
"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.
"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.
"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."
"i'm sorry (name)."
"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.
"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.
"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.
"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.
"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.
"why?"
"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."
"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh and it hurts.
"right."
"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.
"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.
"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.
but, why was this happening to you? of all people?
"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"
"mama, sorry."
"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.
"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.
"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"
-
"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.
the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.
"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."
"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"
"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.
and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.
"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.
-
"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.
"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.
"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."
"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."
"what happened?" suguru asked.
"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as breath hitched silenty.
"yeah." he mumbled.
"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"
"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.
"it's fine. i trust shoko too."
"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"
"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."
"listen–"
"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?
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onlyawhim · 3 days
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Treat you Better - Auston Matthews x Reader
Auston sees how Kasp treats you & thinks (and eventually proves ;)) that he can treat you better.
Totally made Kasperi a douche in this - sorry Kasp fans. Also, obvi set when they were both on the Leafs!
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Two months, you've been keeping track - but of course would never tell Kasperi (you can imagine it now: "Why do I care how long we've been talking? It's not like we're dating, Y/N"). Two months of being a second choice. No chance of commitment anywhere in sight. But you stay, because Kas is charming and good-looking. You convince yourself maybe he'll change, maybe he just isn't ready for commitment right now. Of course he's not just messing with you - he wouldn't do that.
He invited you to his game. You thought maybe this was a sign that he truly cared for you. Would he invite you to watch him if he didn't actually like you? Or did he just want one more Kapanen fan in the building? You push that second thought out of your head as quick as it comes.
Well, obviously he would just invite people to invite people, because here you sit watching him chat up two blonde girls who are very giddy to be graced by Kasperi Kapanen's presence.
The game was nerve-racking, ending with a 5-4 Leaf's win. You were excited to wait outside of the Leaf's locker room. You felt like a true NHL girlfriend. Well, you did, until Kas passed you with a nod (what am I, some fan waiting for a high-five?!) and headed straight for the two pretty girls also standing outside the lockeroom, clearly waiting for any NHL player to pay attention to them - hell, maybe even a gear manager if they were wearing a Leaf's shirt.
So, here you sit, waiting for Kasperi to decide that the girl he invited to watch him play - the one who dutifully cheered for every good play of his and only secretly cheered for one of the other good-looking men in blue - was worth his attention after all. You had even denied a ride home from your friends because "I'll just ride home with Kas". How stupid you felt now...
Kasperi is always a good time when you hang out. He's funny and charming. But this is your first time being in public with him - or, rather, in public watching him act like you're not with him.
You're growing angrier and angrier as Kas makes these girls giggle. Luckily, a good-looking distraction with wet hair steps out of the lockeroom. He looks set on leaving the building ASAP, until he locks eyes with you.
"Hey," he says with a smile, approaching you. You scan his face and sense that he's wondering who you are - why you're waiting. Which player you belong to, you think sourly.
"Hi" you smile politely. There's a pause, so you introduce yourself. "I'm Y/N".
"Y/N," he repeats, "I'm Auston." He sticks his hand out for a shake.
"I know" you giggle, shaking his hand. A dagger of a thought (so Kasperi hasn't mentioned you... ouch) flashes in your mind, but you try to ignore it for now.
"What ya doin out here?" he asks, nodding to the emptying hallway.
"Oh.. Kasperi invited me" you say, moving your gaze over to him. A third girl has joined his audience.
Auston looks over and sees the same thing you do. He nods slowly and moves his attention back to you.
"Gotcha... he doesn't know how to treat a guest does he?" he laughs awkwardly.
"No, it looks like he's pretty good at it" you say, smiling pityingly, nodding towards his group of female fans.
After watching for a second, Auston yells, "Kasp!" he pauses as Kasperi snaps his head in your guys' direction. "You done?"
You're a bit embarrassed, but grateful that you didn't have to be the one to break him from his conversation. Kasperi's eyes switch between you and Auston. Without saying anything, he walks towards the two of you, like a kid in trouble.
"Now I am" he says to Auston, before putting an arm around your shoulders and heading towards the door.
You look back and send Auston a smile. He smiles back with a small wave.
"You played good", you say to Kas, hoping to pretend whatever just happened for the last 20 minutes didn't actually happen.
"Yeah, thanks. Thanks for coming", he says as you both walk towards his car.
The car ride is awkward. Or, maybe, you imagine it as awkward. Kas seems just fine.
He takes you back to his place, as he always does. You sit on his couch, as you always do. The two of you haven't gotten any more intimate than a few kisses - you were adamant that you wanted to wait. He was similarly adamant that he didn't want to. Either way, you both sit on the couch, watching some movie that he picked. He didn't try anything more than an arm around your shoulders for the whole night. Instead, actually, you felt like he was just waiting for you to leave. Does he have other plans for the night?
"Do you want me to come to your next game?" you ask.
"Yeah, sure, if you want to come." he says, not taking his eyes from the TV.
God, this night was painful. But, you told yourself, maybe it would get better.
--
This game-day will definitely end better. The last game fiasco is behind you. You even asked to wear his jersey - and he let you! That has to mean something.
Here you wait, again, outside of the lockeroom. They lost this time - 2-5. Despite the score, you are proud to be sporting "Kapanen" on your back.
Auston steps out of the lockeroom before Kasperi. He locks eyes with you, once again, and smiles.
"Hey, Y/N" he says, approaching you.
"Hi. You played good tonight", you say, returning his smile.
"Not good enough, though", he laughs lightly, pitifully.
Before you can respond, Kas walks out of the lockeroom. This time, he walks straight to you - not past you. Progress!
Auston moves aside so Kasp can join the conversation - and though you would never say it, you preferred the one-on-one with Auston.
"See ya got her to wear your jersey", Auston says to Kasperi with a smile.
"She asked," he says, putting an arm around you. "Dirtied it up just for us to lose". Your smile drops (did he not want me to wear it??). This doesn't go over Auston's head, though it definitely misses Kasperi.
"You can dirty up my jerseys anytime, Y/N", Auston says lightly, giving you a smile. Kasperi laughs and leads you out the door. Again, you shoot a smile to Auston as you leave. How is it that Auston's on your side more often than Kasperi is?
--
Third home game. You've decided this is his last chance. His games are the only times you go out in public together - otherwise, you're just hanging out at his house. He is always so fun to be around in private. But once he gets in public, it feels like his facade drops. So, third try. Third home game.
They win this time, 4-1. You had washed and returned Kasp's jersey after his comment last time. Standing outside the locker room, you wait. Kasperi comes out before Auston this time (am I waiting for Auston? Why was I disappointed when it was Kasp and not Auston?).
"The guys are going for drinks, I'm gonna go with 'em" he says casually.
You don't know what to say, so you just look at him for a second to see if he's serious. Where were you supposed to go? He should have said something earlier so you wouldn't have waited out here for him. Before you can put any of these thoughts into words, Auston steps out of the lockeroom. He catches Kasp's next words.
"I can call you an uber if you don't have a ride or something." Was this his attempt at kindness?
"Kasp.." you say, exasperatingly.
Auston interjects. "I can drive you home." he says looking between you and Kasperi.
"You don't have to do that, man", Kasperi speaks for you. This leaves you even more shocked.
Auston ignores him, eyes still on you.
"I'd really appreciate that", you say, looking back at him.
"See, Kasp, it's taken care of. Have fun, man", Auston says, slightly stepping between you and Kasperi.
"Alright", Kasperi says, clearly not interested enough to say anything more. "See you guys", he says before turning around and heading for the door.
"Thank you, Auston. I really appreciate it", you say, nervously, embarrassed that you even came here with Kasperi.
"I don't mind. I'm not putting you in an uber", he laughs.
You laugh with him at the absurdity.
You both head for the door. Walking next to him, you can really appreciate how large he is. You blush at the whole situation.
He points at a Porche sitting in the parking garage, shining in all of its' luxury, "That's me", he says, unlocking it.
"Fancy", you giggle as he opens the passenger door for you.
He laughs and shuts your door, tossing his gear in the backseat before getting in on his own side.
The car ride is filled with comfortable silence, the radio playing quietly, only interrupted by your directions.
"Really, thank you for taking me home, Auston", you say, glancing at him.
He looks at you for a second before returning his eyes to the road. "I really don't mind. It's nice to see you somewhere outside of a dark hallway, anyways", he says.
"Yeah, you won't see me there again", you say, still embarrassed by Kasperi. So much for a third chance.
"Or, y'know, next time you'll be wearing a 34", he says. You laugh.
"Wouldn't wanna dirty up one of your jerseys" you giggle, referring to Kasperi's odd comment.
"God, he's a douche, isn't he. I'm sorry", Auston says.
"Just glad I had my knight in shining armor there to save me," you joke.
"That's what I'm here for", he laughs.
He pulls up to your building. "Want me to walk you up?" he asks.
"It's okay," you answer, "I have mace" you joke.
At this, he scoffs jokingly and turns the car off before getting out. You do the same, walking to your building with Auston behind you. You climb the stairs and stop in front of your door.
"Thank you, Auston". You say, locking eyes with him.
"Of course, Y/N." he smiles.
"Can I get your number, just to make sure you make it home safe?" you say.
He pulls out his phone and adds your number, giving you his.
"Have a good night, Y/N".
"You too," you smile, unlocking the door. He heads back down to his car.
A much better ending to game night.
--
The next morning you wake to the doorbell ringing. In your shock at the unannounced guest, you climb out of bed and check out the peephole. Through it, you see a delivery driver setting down a large bag.
You wait for him to walk away before you open the door to check out this mysterious delivery. Setting it on the counter, you open it carefully.
In it is a container holding a huge breakfast - pancakes, bacon, and fruit. Under the container, a Maple Leafs jersey - number 34. Matthews written on the back. You smile big at this.
You grab your phone to send him a text.
"Auston!!" you say, sending a picture of the gift.
"For the next game ;)", he writes.
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missparamelontea · 10 hours
Text
The Bite that Stings
Space Riders AU - @onyxonline KoiRite - @missparamelontea
This fic is another party fic for onyxonline's Space Riders AU, this time with shenanigans! Check out this POV for context! Please check Onyx out, their work is super cool!
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The soft, formal music by the orchestra felt like torture to Hoppy's eardrums. It was too quiet, too nice. Hoppy needed something... something exciting.
She looked around the ballroom, making quick observations.
Kickin and Bobby were off dancing.
Bubba was off mingling, as per usual.
Picky was near the buffet table.
Crafty, Koi, and Z were by the drink table.
So many options to go do to distract herself but none seemed worth it. Hoppy thought about going to find where DogDay and CatNap were, but that felt like a bit of too much effort.
Unless DogDay was hiding because Z was with everyone, and in a suit. Then a light bulb went off in Hoppy's mind.
It was only 10:55. By 11:00, the party would go into a full swing of partnered dances. If Hoppy could get DogDay and Z to meet around that time, they would be able to spend time together.
Hoppy headed out the doors to find DogDay and CatNap, running down the hallways to find the duo.
She had eventually found them in one of the lounge rooms, DogDay plopped on the sofa while CatNap tried getting him off. It seemed the two were arguing.
"I'm not heading out there!"
'It's only a dance. Stop being a gay in denial and talk to him.'
"HEY-"
Hoppy snickered and walked over to the two.
"Trying to pair up DogDay and Z for the upcoming dance too?"
CatNap calmly nodded as DogDay groaned under the sofa's cushions, turning his head to face the two.
"I can't do it! I'll freeze up before even trying to ask for a dance!"
Hoppy sat on the sofa, next to DogDay's head and poked his cheek.
"It's now or never, captain. One chance to dance with your crush. You just gotta do it!"
CatNap nodded at Hoppy's words, which made DogDay sigh. She was right, this was the one chance he and Z could spend time together for just one night.
DogDay sat up and heavily sighed, nodding.
"You're right. I have to do this. Let's go."
Hoppy cheered as DogDay got up from the sofa, taking a deep breath before heading out of the lounge room. Hoppy and CatNap followed suit, ready to watch everything go down.
---------------
Z glanced up at the time. 10:59. Only a minute left till the partnered dances. He crossed his arms, leaning back to the wall.
"Are you alright?"
Z turned his head, noting Crafty's concern for him. He simply sighed and turned his head away.
"Almost 11. That partnered dance is a minute away. Not looking forward to ladies clamoring over for a dance."
Koi, hearing everything, lightly laughed as she sipped her third glass of wine.
"Why not ask DogDay for a dance? I'm sure he wouldn't mind that."
Z looked towards Koi's direction, then sighed.
"That's... not a bad idea, I suppose. Also, how are you not drunk yet?"
"High alcohol tolerance."
Z mumbled a "uh huh" before glancing at the time again. 11 pm. The dance was starting.
As if on cue, Z felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around.
DogDay.
Z took this as a sign. He lightly bowed, gaze at DogDay.
"May I have this dance, captain?"
DogDay blushed at Z's gesture but nodded, putting his hand in Z's.
---------------
CatNap was looking at something for far too long, his tail swaying under his feet. He was frowning at something, something bad.
"Yo, CatNap! You okay, buddy?"
CatNap glanced over at Hoppy.
'I can't tell if it's a drunk or someone genuinely being rude.'
"What do you mean- ohhhhh."
Hoppy leaned her head over to see what CatNap was referring to, now knowing what he meant.
"Get Koi to handle it?"
'Yep.'
"Instigate for a fight?"
'Totally.'
Like gremlins, CatNap and Hoppy heading over to Koi who was by the corner with Z, Crafty, and DogDay.
DogDay immediately noticed the smug faces, knowing they were going to start something.
"What are you two up to this time?"
Hoppy dramatically shrugged, holding back her laughs.
"Oh, nothing. It's just there's some jerk that's being a bit of an ass to some girls. Dunno if he's just drunk or not."
CRACK
The sound of glass nearly breaking alarmed DogDay, turning over to Koi.
Her expression darkened as she clutched the glass tightly, muscles lightly flexing under her sleeves.
DogDay quickly looked away, trying not to stare. Koi, on the other hand, looked straight at CatNap.
"What tie?"
'Light blue tie.'
Koi stood up, carefully putting the glass in her hand down on a nearby table before pulling off her tie and wrapping it around her right hand.
"I'll take care of it."
As Koi walked off, DogDay was panicking.
"Wait, Koi, don't! Guys, why?! We don't need this tonight!"
Z shrugged and leaned back.
"But it makes the night more entertaining."
DogDay facepalmed.
"You're not helping!"
---------------
Koi, despite her anger, calmly walked to the scene Hoppy described. She took a notice of the poor ladies and rude jackass by the door. In a quick motion, Koi forcefully grabbed the guy by the back of his hair, keeping her gaze to the ladies.
"Apologies, but I would like you three to leave. This will be taken care of, I assure you, but I wouldn't want to frighten you."
Due to Koi's appearance, many believed she was a man with a cold and protective demeanor rather than a woman. The ladies instantly blushed and walked away, whispering to each other.
Koi made sure they were far away before pulling the guy's head back further before slamming his head into the ground, making the ground shake a little.
A few Space Riders ran over, including Hoppy and CatNap. Hoppy cheered at the scene.
"Go Koi, go! Beat 'em up! Beat 'em up!"
---------------
"So. Koi, huh?"
Crafty snapped out of her flustered state and lightly glared at Z.
"Shut up!"
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phoebepheebsphibs · 2 days
Note
CROSSOVER NEXT PART WHEN please
So this next update is the BIG FINALE and as such it is... uh... really long. There's a lot of extra characters in the story (because I am DEAD SET on having an Avengers Endgame moment lol) so that means extra introductions and explanations for a few and etc. etc. etc.
Remember the last really long update I gave? The one that was over 7000 words? I crossed over that mark a while ago, and I'm only ONE THIRD OF THE WAY THROUGH.
yeh,,,
It's a big update, so it's taking a while.
Snek pek! ↓↓↓
"...Very well, then," rhg!Donnie exhaled, finally admitting defeat. "In that case, I'm not sure I know how to tend to 'mystic' injuries."
"I got it," Ghost volunteered, searching in the first aid for anything especially sparkly or glowing. That would be a good sign. After some rummaging, he managed to procure some mystic cream and began to salve the cuts and sores.
rhg!Donnie watched with interest and concern. He studied the label for future reference. He memorized the patterns in which Ghost anointed the child. He took internal photographs of the angles and shapes of Mikey's scars... and prayed that he would never have to see them on his baby brother back home. He had been concerned that this was the same Mikey he'd met earlier... they looked very much alike upon first glance. But after closer inspection, he saw that they had some differences. The scars were obvious. But this one was younger, and much smaller. Not just shorter, but skinnier too. He looked a lot like his brother in that sense. As for the Leon beside him -- the one that kept giving rhg!Donnie dirty side glances -- he looked like his twin brother. Except bald. No sign of the beautiful and soft hair that rhg!Dee used to braid and style for him before he'd left. He was frightfully thin, too. A thick scarf surrounded his neck to help insulate the miniscule amount of warmth his body could provide. rhg!Donnie happened to glance over at him when he didn't expect it, and saw him pocket a few extra medical supplies, subconsciously stuffing them into his pants. There were quite a few things already in his pockets, rhg!Dee realized. This kid was a thief. Not that it bothered him, he and his Leo had been sneaky like that on more than one occasion. District 12 wasn't a very generous place to live.
rhg!Donnie found himself reaching for his hand the next time he went to snatch something. Not so much to stop him as to simply just... hold something that was so similar to his brother. He knew he wouldn't get a chance like this again for a long time. If ever. It might be stupid, but for a moment he wanted to pretend that this was his Leo. It worked for half a moment, he could almost see his brother here in the room with him.
Leon turned to him as he grabbed his hand, wide-eyed in surprise before realizing that he'd been caught.
"Oh... Old habits die hard, I guess," he explained, sheepishly dropping the tube of ointment he'd taken.
"Next time, try it like this," rhg!Donnie whispered, showing him how to take the tube with better efficiency, while simultaneously distracting the victim while you repurposed their possessions. But he got the feeling this teen already knew all the tricks of the trade.
Leon smiled weakly at him.
"Thanks, but... well, there's not really supposed to be a 'next time'," he explained, while looking back at DvD and 'Phael. "I kinda have a family now... and a home."
"Congratulations," rhg!Donnie said, hoping the genuine delight that this Leon had his family all around him came through, despite the monotonous tone in his voice.
"The kleptomania just sorta... flares up when I'm stressed," he mumbled. "When I feel like I'm not safe. I take stuff so I can pretend that I have everything I might need in an emergency." He laughed as he pulled out all the band-aids and alcohol wipes and gauze from his pockets. "I don't even know what I'd do with half of this stuff!"
"It's better to have most of this than not," rhg!Donnie mentioned, taking half of the pile and stuffing them into his own pockets, despite knowing that if he were to be portalled home again the items wouldn't be going with him. "Just in case..."
@daboyau @boots-with-the-fur-club @amevello-blue
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starfirewildheart · 2 days
Text
Scars and Souvenirs
Chapter 19
Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.
Pairing: Sy / OFC
Word count: 2,206
Rating: mentions of war; being a POW, death, talk of trafficking, forced prostitution and assault.
Chapter 19
~~~I was in the hospital for the last 6 days. I had hoped I'd have loads of time to write but in reality I spent that time being a human pin cushion, being sick from meds or having tests. Thanks for being patient with me!~~~
Sy paced impatiently back and forth in the small observation room as he watched Mike through the two way mirror. He'd argued Mike's plea to Walt and the attorneys and they finally relented, though of course there was a cost. Mike wouldn't be allowed to testify at trial after this but they all understood why he needed to do this. He also wanted to do this without Sy or Walt in the room so the compromise was using an interrogation room so they could be close by and see them at all times. He just hoped Mike got the answers he was looking for.
~~~~~~☆~~~~~~
Mike looked up when the door opened. A deputy led Mitch Holmes into the room and cuffed him to the metal ring in the center of the table then left again. Another man, dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase entered. “As agreed on, there will be no recordings, nothing said will be admissible under any circumstances, for anything.  I want it to be known that my client is doing this as an act of kindness and can stop at any time he chooses.” He looked at Mike then at the two way mirror where he knew Walt and Sy were before closing the door and leaving father and son alone while he joined the others behind the glass. 
“Are you OK? I was worried when I heard what happened to you.” Mitch was laying it on thick acting like father of the year. “I can't believe the court let you get involved with that damn man and woman who got you hurt!” He had no idea how much Mike had been told about his involvement in what happened but since he wanted to visit him he doubted that he knew much. Now was time to try and throw Sy and Deb under the bus. If he could get Mike to hate them then he might have a chance with the court. 
“Y..you were worried about me?”
“Of course I was! I should never have agreed to let them take you.”
“The court agreed, not you,” Mike reminded him.
“I've always told you that the court don't give a shit about us and that nosey assed cop neither!” Mitch complained. 
“So, do you have anything you want to ask me?’ when Mitch looked at him like he'd grown a third head he continued. “You've spent your time talking about and blaming everyone but not a single word about you or even me. Why is that?”
“I was talking about how they let you get kidnapped and hurt, Mike. You.. you're not still mad at me over boxin’ your ears when you drank my whiskey are ya? Cause you deserved that,” Mitch shook his finger at him.
Mike shook his head to clear it wondering if he'd somehow ventured into some alternate dimension of crazy. After a few minutes something dawned on him. Walt and Sy had told Mike that Mitch had been held in isolation since being arrested and the only thing he'd been told about Mike was that he'd been rescued and was alive. Mitch had no idea that Mike knew it was him that sold his son to the gang. Sitting up straight Mike leaned closer to the table. “You're a worthless junkie who couldn't pay off his debts so instead of dealing with it like a man, which you aren't, you SOLD me to them! You sold me for the cost of your own fucking habits KNOWING  what they were going to use me for.” 
“You don't talk to me like that!” Mitch snapped.
“Or what? You gonna hit me some more,  Mitch?” He let the sound of the last two letters in his name draw out. “That will never happen again.” Mike stood up and paced around the small room successfully making Mitch antsy and uncomfortable before coming to a stop facing the mirror in front of where Sy was standing on the other side. “When I started trying to arrange this meeting wanted to talk to you about a lot of stuff because I was going to demand answers. The moment I saw you though I realized you would never tell me the truth about anything. You would try to manipulate me to get what you want but nothing more.” He turned to face Mitch. “That being said, what I do want to say,” he sat down and leaned on the table. “I just wanted to say that I hope your prison stay is everything you deserve it to be and I have some friends now that will help me make sure that your cell mates know that you're available to work off your own debts now. Granted I'm sure you won't bring the same price I would have but they will just have to whore you out twice as much.”
“You little fuck!” Mitch growled and tried to lunge for him. Mike was much too fast and moved out of reach.
~~~~~~♡~~~~~~
Geralt watched intently as the doctor force bent Debbie's knee, ready to jump in if he felt he needed to but the woman was tough. There were tears in her eyes and she had his hand squeezed so tight he could hear the bones creak but she did exactly what she had to do.
“I'm impressed with how well you're doing. Incision is healing nicely and I'm going to start your physical therapy this week. Once they get your leg strength built back up…”
“You're going to do another surgery and then I start all over?” She interjected. 
“Not all over but re-healing, yes. Remember it is going to be a long road but we will get there!” 
“I'll get there…” She mocked as the door shut behind him, throwing a roll of tape in frustration. 
Geralt arched his brow at her and tisked but had to bite his lip when she blushed at his mild scolding. The nurse came in and fit a new brace on her leg. It was shorter and had locks so that she could start to bend the knee slowly and not cause damage. Finally, after setting up physio, the next doctor appointment and getting blood work done they made it out to the truck to head home. “Hungry little one?”
“Starving,” She nodded. 
“Pizza, burgers, Mexican, Chinese?” He listed off nearby options. 
“Chinese,” her stomach growled loudly.
When they were seated and placed their orders Deb sipped on a soda then twirled the straw in the bubbly liquid. “You and Sy are really close. He always talked about you but now that we've met on person I can tell the feelings are mutual.” Geralt took a drink of his water waiting to see where this was going. “None of you have girlfriends. Why?”
“A few of us have had in the past. Napoleon often has a female companion but not for long periods. Will has a girl back where he calls home.” 
“You don't agree with attachments though? You think they are an exploitable weakness.” She looked  down at her plate. 
He pondered carefully before answering.  “I think anything that we love or care about has the potential to be used against us. If the person is evil enough or ruthless enough they will exploit anything.”
“I don't want to be a weakness,” She sighed softly.  “I already have been though, for all of you. He called you to help him but if not for me he wouldn't have needed to.” 
“Don't do anything stupid,” he leveled his eyes at her.
“I'm not, i.. I just don't want to be a reason he gets hurt. I want to be an asset not a burden.” She munched a spring roll. 
~~~~~~☆~~~~~~
Sy stretched his back as he walked through the barn with Mike. It had been a crazy day that started with them and their attorney arguing with Mitch's attorney on whether or not Mike could even see him. Once they met most of Mitch's demands, around four in the afternoon, then it was finally 
tiime for the meeting. “Did you get what you wanted out of the meeting?” He asked Mike.
Mike scratched Rose's snout and neck. “I wanted him to explain why he would do all this to me? Why does he hate me so much that he would sell me to someone who was going to pimp me out? Why?” His voice rose as he turned to face Sy. “What about me is so fucking broken that….” He choked up and spun to the left punching a wall in frustration. 
Sy went to him and pulled him into a hug but quickly let go when Mike fought against it. “Kid you're not the one who's broken, he is. Your old man has an addiction but it's more than that. Mitch is,” he struggled to find the right words. “He's a monster. He is the one who disappointed you, who let you down.”
“No one else ever saw that.” Mike demanded.
“Because it's true,” Sy stood firm. 
“And what about Debbie and everything that happened to her because of me?” He yelled. “She nearly died because you both tried to help me!”
“What? Mike, no, that wasn't your fault. You and Deb both got caught up in something that you had no control over. You didn't do this to her anymore than she did it to you.”
“They took us because Mitch sold me!”
“Walter pulled Deb and I in on the gang case. We got involved knowing the risks, kid. You two happened to be together so they took you both. Your old man set it up, sure but they took her hoping to get information about our investigation.”
“He's right,” Deb said as she limped over to them on her crutches. When they pulled up they saw Sy's truck by the barn and stopped. “Truth be told, we all try to protect each other from bad stuff and sometimes end up making it worse. Sy was working with Walt and shut me out of the investigation trying to protect me. On my end all I saw was him secretly texting and calling some random woman, sneaking off to meet her in secret. Instead of talking to him about it I threw myself into my work which got me involved with the corrupt detective. I convinced myself that what Lindy said about me not being enough for Sy was true and was trying to distance myself so it wouldn't be such a shock when he left me.” It was the first time she'd said some of that out loud. Sy was looking at her like she was from Mars and Mike looked like he wanted it to be true. “I don't even pretend that I have all the answers any more because the truth is that I'm more worried now than ever but the few things I do know, I'm sure of. Love gets you hurt whether it's unintentionally or not. Loving someone makes you a point of weakness for them and leaves them open to getting hurt. What is the alternative? We've all found each other and formed bonds which I think we are weaker without. If we run away from each other then we're vulnerable and will do anything to find each other.” She scrubbed her hands over her face in frustration.  “I can't make you believe the truth any more than I can force you to stay here if you're determined to leave. None of this was your fault and I hope you believe that, Mike.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, “and we want you here.”
Everything broke through Mike's walls at once and they crumbled. He wrapped his arms around Deb and buried his face against her shoulder and neck as the dam broke and he sobbed. He sobbed for his past, his childhood, his asshole father, his mom that left him and all the shit that happened recently. He cried until he had no tears left. He felt Sy's arms around him as well, helping comfort him. When the tears finally stopped and his heart rate came back down he felt completely drained. They must have been standing there for quite awhile because his legs were aching and going numb. 
The three of them headed back to the house. Mike was so drained he went to lay down for a nap before dinner. Debbie headed to the kitchen and grabbed her pain pills tossing a couple in her mouth then going to the fridge to get some water to rinse them down before bending down to try and grab an ice pack from the freezer. Sy's big hand reached in front of her and got the pack.
“What did the doctor say?”
She told him everything as they went to set on the sofa. It didn't take long between the exhaustion and the meds that she fell into a fitful sleep.
Tag List
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@enchantedbytomandhenry
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@summersong69
@mollymal
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mellowwillowy · 3 months
Text
Posting this dusty boring draft.
Yan! Lawyer Husband: *Holds you by the shoulders* I heard that you have been troubled by someone lately, dear. Care to tell me who?
Spouse Reader: Just... a noisy socialite... she had been getting on my nerves recently, always cornering me...
Yan! Lawyer Husband: ... I heard that she's been fueling the public opinion concerning your involvement in her lover's murder case no?
Spouse Reader: It truly was unfortunate, I was only there as an eye witness but she wouldn't stop herding the public opinion... Hey... I won't be trialed for this right?
Yan! Lawyer Husband: ... (It's hard to say no to that question.) *smiles* even if you are to be trialed for this case, I will be there as your lawyer, do you doubt your husband's capability?
Spouse Reader: Of course not! I know well that you are the best lawyer to ever exist! You've never lost a case no?
Yan! Lawyer Husband: Exactly *pats your head* Now how about you get some rest while I take a look in the files of this case? I think I've gotten a gist of what to do here ^^
Contrary to how he usually deals with things that are related to his spouse, he did not kill the socialite but instead, decided to herd the public opinion just like what the socialite did.
Yulian figured that killing the socialite would do no good and only harm Darling's reputation even more. Alas, he decided to commit strings of fraud that were targeted at the socialite.
While slowly tainting her reputation, Yulian started to fabricate a few pieces of evidence while erasing Darling's record during the day of the crime to minimize the chances of being convicted guilty of this trial.
"Why should the public not suspect you of killing your lover because he knew what you had done?" The woman's face turned red as she clenched her jaw tightly, "What are you trying to say, Adam?"
It didn't take much to flick the domino block down. After all, the months spent on this one case were finally reaching their climax during the third trial. The trial in which the table had turned in favor, was a trial which was won by Yulian.
Upon further investigation, it was revealed that the socialite had been involved in distributing drugs which involved the deceased. The motive of the murder was that the socialite did not want to share the profit with her lover, alas killing him to hold the whole business in her grasp.
"... cliche." You mumbled to yourself as you waited for your husband to finish all the files that had to be submitted. "As expected of a lawyer, serving yet another injustice."
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ducklinglucifer · 2 months
Note
Hi!! not used to requesting but maybe an Adam X Fem reader who’s quite empathetic? maybe she empathizes with the sinners?
Adam x F!Empathetic!Reader
Content: Adam being a dick but not being a dick to you
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You sat in court with Adam and Lute, hands over your mouth, watching and listening to what Charlie was saying. How awful for these sinners to be dammed like this.
You dearly wanted to help Charlie and her dreams, but, being Adam's third wife and the other commander for the Exorcists, you weren't sure if Sera would like that. Besides, you wouldn't dare question, afraid to become fallen.
"Sera. Please.." You spoke out softly, moving your hands to your chest, giving her a pleading look. "Why should we be brutal towards these once humans who just made a wrong choice when they can be redeemed?" You could feel Adam and Lute's eyes staring at you in shock.
Adam grabbed your shoulder, pulling you towards him, trying to keep you shut. You refused, pushing his arm away, standing up from your seat. "Sera. Don't turn your back to these folks, why can't they be saved? What's the reason?"
"It's not as simple as you think, Y/N.." Sera stated over to you with a sadden gaze. Adam snatched your wrist, pulling you back down to your seat. "Sit down, Y/N...and keep yourself quiet...!" Adam did his best not to call you names.
You had a stare-off with Adam before obeying him, keeping your head down low, following his orders. You don't wanna cause a scene in front of the court or make things worse for Charlie.
The court and trail went on until things got out of control, Adam sent Charlie and Vaggie back to Hell, promising them that he'll come to the Hotel first.
You watched in horror, taking a step back as you felt yourself becoming faint. This can't be happening! "That was uncalled for, Adam..." Sera scoffed down at Adam.
"But did you see their fuckin' faces- I...Sorry..." Adam huffed but his eyes drifted towards you, You made eye-contact with him then just raced out of the court room in a hurry.
Lute went after you, calling out to you as Adam followed behind her. "You can't be seriously feeling sorry for those vile creatures, Ma'am?" Lute wouldn't dare to be disrespectful to you, your powers are above hers yet you refuse to harm a single sinner. "I do!" You cried to them, turning to face them.
"Adam, please." You begged your husband to change his mind. "Those are still living souls, they don't know what they did was wrong! They are just...they can be redeemed, can't they?"
Adam gave a look to Lute who quickly nodded and flew off, leaving just you and Adam. He knew you had a soft spot for demons, having empathy. But, it's either you fight with him or fall like Lucifer. "Baby, They had their chances to be better but now, it's too fuckin' late, sugar tits." He grabbed your hand, pulling you to him.
"Adam! Think about this, those are human souls!" You wanted him to listen but his ego was too fuckin' huge to even think about the words you were spilling out to him. "There is no reason to be doing this to them! This isn't right!"
Adam shoved your hand away from him, wings extending behind him. "Don't even think about questioning, I am not losing another wife to that disgusting being!" Adam loved you and he truly care for you, he doesn't want to see you question things, this is how it's going to be. "So, keep your little empathy heart buried down below cause Hell is Forever."
He, out of character, kissed your forehead gently before walking away to finishing up his plan to exterminate the rest of Hell, for good. You stood alone in the hallways, eyes widened. No! This can't be happening!
You felt tears falling down your cheeks, for the first time, since you came to Heaven. You were crying. Your heart cried for those beings, how heartless could Adam be? Yet, you still loved him dearly.
"..I'll find a way to stop him! I swear..!" You kept that promise to yourself, turning away. Your footsteps faded off into the distance. Even if you find a way to stop him, you don't want to kill Adam at all. "I'll find a way..."
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americaswritings · 4 months
Text
Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part II
Warnings: I haven't read the book (yet), Coriolanus thoughts, mentions of poverty, mentions of violence
Summary: Coriolanus thought he would never see you again after you won the Games and he got banished to the districts. But when he does, he is left to question whether or not he can imagine a life with(out) you.
Words: around 2k
Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader
A/N: You all asked for it so here it is: Part 2! Thank you so much for all the love on the first one. It truly blew me away!! I really hope you like this part just as much. I tried to capture Coriolanus inner conflict here. Also there will be a third and final part! :)
Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here
Part I | Masterlist
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He hadn't thought he would ever see you again. Not after the gamemaster had sent for him once the games were over and he had found the evidence against him placed on a table.
Evidence that he had helped you, although the rules forbid it.
He had known. There was no denying that and it was below his dignity to pretend so. There was nothing he could say. Nothing he could do except stare at that evidence and wonder if it had been worth it.
If you had been worth it. Ruining his life.
As he had watched you crumble under his painfilled screams in the arena he had been sure to have ruined yours, but now he figured it might have been mutual.
It was what happened in the games, was a part of it. Only he had never been one and there was a sick feeling inside of him as he thought of how he had been used, had used you, had used resources to save you despite the knowledge that it crossed a line.
It was easy to watch the games and all the ways they manipulated people. Turned children into killers and brought out the deepest, darkest parts of humans. How they got manipulated in turn, by the gamemakers and the capitol. Even their mentors. And sometimes how they manipulated the public and the capitol in an act of quiet revolution.
It was oddly fascinating in a way, to see through those lies and perceptions and untangle them. Like they were all pieces on a chess board and he just had to watch them push each other around, taking out one by one.
But to find out that he had been a part of it too, that he had been played made him feel like just another pawn.
But you had won. Even if he would pay the price for it now, he had gotten you through the games. It filled him with pride and a little...relief to know that he had kept his promise.
He hated not knowing if you were safe now, but at least he had held his word. If something happened to you now, it wasn't on him.
But then why was there no comfort in that thought?
Why did there seem to be no comfort ever again, with you gone and his life torn to shreds. All his hopes and dreams crushed within one night.
Had it been worth it?
It didn't matter if he had done it for the scholarship or to save you. But then why did he suddenly feel filled with doubts?
All his life there had only been two colours: black and white. There was no grey, because he firmly believed in wright or wrong. He thought it pathetic when people weeped over the games and how tragic they were, yet found the uttermost entertainment in them.
The games served a purpose and they promised him one of his own, a university career, so he served them. It didn’t matter what he thought about it.
But now he seemed captured in between those two opposites. He knew rationally that it had been wrong to manipulate your chances so you could win. And he saw now where it had gotten him.
But wouldn't he do the same again?
Being with you, gazing into your eyes and wishing you were by his side was wrong. You came from two different worlds and the odds were against you. But then how had he turned into this man, thinking about a woman, letting his feelings guide his decisions and cloud his judgement?
And it went beyond the grey.
When you had stepped into his life you had introduced colours to it he had never seen before.
Red, not the university red, but the colours of your lips, the blood driping down your arms.
Blue, not the lifeless district blue, but the dress you had worn when you had sang during your interview and he haid laid in a hospital bed, mesmerized by your every word and sound.
Brown, the colour of dirt and poverty, but seemed to exist in uncountable shades on you.
And now that had all been ripped from him, just because he had played smarter than the other students.
His days as a peacekeeper were as dull and lonely as he had expected. He kept his gaze narrow, his weapon close and he didn't let his mind wander.
Because then he would mourn all he had lost and it would turn to anger. Fury. A turmoil of emotion he didn't know how to handle.
Sometimes he wondered if his life had only existed in polarity before and you had shown him spectra and ranges he had never learned to balance.
And it made him mad. At you. Because how dare you show him what love and lust felt like, how light it made him feel and how there seemed nothing else to exist in his thoughts anymore, only to rip it all away and show him the other side of it. The loss and the grief, the uncertanity and fear. The lacking.
Sometimes he wondered if he was going mad. Here he was damned to a life in the districts, a simple life, despite knowing he had been born for big things. It was in the name. Snow lands on top.
He pretended to be numb and hollow on the outside, but inside of him raged a storm of emotions that broke him bit by bit. Soon there would be not much left of his pride. To his sanity.
He had convinced himself he wasn't thinking about you anymore.
That his dreams of you were just evidence of his growing madness. And that the hopelessness he felt when he persuaded himself you were likely somewhere far away and not thinking of him anymore didn't exist.
But all the lies he had build opon came crashing down when he caught a glance of that blue, that red and brown and he knew. Knew without a doubt.
His hand was locked around your wrist before he could think about the movement and he dragged you away and into a dark alley, his big hand clasped over your mouth to swallow your screams and his body trapping yours against the wall.
His gaze flickered around to make sure no one saw you, then he allowed himself to look at you.
Your eyes were wide open, staring at him in a mixture of shock, fear and disbelief. Carefully he lowered his hand, his hand tangling in your hair. He had always wanted to do that.
But he didn't step away. He needed to make sure this was real, that you were real. “You're here."
You swallowed, eyes flickering over his face and then the uniform. You frowned, then carefully touched his head. "Your hair- it's gone."
"Not completely."
"It's short." You smiled and he felt his lips curve into one as well, all previous anger swallowed by the reality that you were here. That he hadn't lost everything. He had you know.
"Why are you here? Why are you one of them?" He ignored the way your tone changed and you practically spit out the word. "They found out how I helped you. It was against the rules."
He couldn't keep to himself any longer, not after he had fantasised about you for so long and his hand travelled over your neck, your jaw, cupped your cheek.
Finally, you were his.
He would have leaned down and kissed you, but the look in your eyes stopped him. "I thought you were hurt. I- I thought you were dead!"
Tears were shimmering in the soft light that the moon cast over your face and he caught them and wiped them away with his thumb when they spilled over your cheeks.
"It wasn't my voice in the arena. They used the birds to-" "I know that!" You let out a breath. "But everything they said- you said that to me. Word by word."
He waited silently for you to continue. "But then the screams-" "They weren't real", he tried to soothe you, but you shook your head. "But if everything else was, then...", you trailled of, but he knew what you thought anyway.
"They manipulated you. That's why they used my real words against you, to convince you that it was really me, my voice, so that you would believe everything."
"So they didn't-" You looked at him with so much fear that he almost smiled. "They didn't do anything to me. I sat there watching like I did the whole time."
"But then...how they did to it? And how did they listen to us all this time?"
He knew what you were really asking. Had he known? Had he known about it, but never thought it important enough to mention or worse had he intentionally not told you, because of his own motifs?
Shaking his head slightly he let out a sigh. "I don't know", he admittted. "How do they do anyting?"
You looked at him a second longer before nodding, deciding that you would trust him.
His hand ran down your arms now and he noted in satisfaction that you shivered under the touch. He was sure it had nothing to do with the cold.
"Where were you? After you won?"
After he had yelled at the game master to let you out. Many times.
"Here and there." You shrugged, but he wanted to know more. Needed to know more.
“That's not enough."
Would it ever be? Now that he was in the district and you were here too. Was that enough?
It wasn't the big house, the uniform and status. It wasn't Tigris smile. And it wasn't power.
It was just you and him, a whole lot of dirt, hunger and sickness. Lacking. Was that a life he could settle for?
Until now this had only been a station in his life. He would get back to the capitol and claim what belonged to him or else he would not see a future for himself.
But now things were different.
"I didn‘t know where to go. I thought after the games my life would be different, but I am still here and everything's the same except that I'm a killer.“
You closed your eyes and an expression of pain crossed your face. He let out a breath as he tried to soothe away the frown. "Don't say that." "But it's true." You looked at him with loathing in your eyes.
"You gave me the tools to kill and I used them. We’re both guilty."
"So? Everyone is. It's what needed to be done." He didn't get your fuss. All that mattered was you and him and you had gotten that.
"I would still make the same choices." "You would?" He nodded. "You matter more than them."
You frowned, heaviness in your eyes. "I don't." "To me you do."
It was true. He didn't know much, didn't understand these new feelings, but this one thing he could promise you was the truth.
Closing your eyes you leaned your foreheads against each other's, finding a glimmer of peace in each others presence. "To me you do too."
It was barely above a whisper, but he opened his eyes to search yours. For a moment you were locked in each other's gazes, but even though it felt like it in this moment, you would never have all the time in the world.
Cupping your cheek a final time Coriolanus closed the distance between you.
Your lips were dry and tasted a little like salt where the tears had touched them, but he savoured the feeling. Your body was trapped between the wall and his and he wanted to explore every part of it, make you completely and utterly his.
The kiss was all shades and ranges of colour he didn‘t know existed and he only knew he wanted more of it. It was addicting, this new feeling that only you seemed to hold the key to.
When you broke apart a sad smile hung on your lips. Before he could ask you about it you cast your eyes down. "They are talking about us. In the capitol. When they used your voice and I...fell for it- they made it into a whole story."
He closed his eyes. He had considered that possibility, yet he hated how he felt the control slipping from him. He had always contained an image and now he felt like other people were deciding it.
"They will forget about it." "They won't. You know it. I can't ever go back."
When he opened his eyes again he saw shock and understanding in yours. "But you...want to go back", you concluded and he didn't deny it. It had always been the scholarship for him, the way up.
He was a Snow, born into greatness. It was his duty to claim what should have been his all along.
You ducked away and took a step to the side, bringing a distance between your bodies he hated.
"This is not my life." You knew that, didn‘t you? Or had you expected him to give up everything for what…love? This feeling of lightness and colour and sweetness?
Even if it gave him a flicker of lust and the power he yearned for, it was not the same.
Because even if your love was strong enough, it would never exist without hunger, worry and a job below his worth. And he was tired, so tired of living like that.
That was why he had taken on the mentorship in the first place. Why he had even gone to such lengths to get the public to pay attention to you and then to save you.
For a different life. A better one. A life in the district was far from it.
Your eyes flickered around as you took in your own district. The one he had spent his last money on just for the possibility to see you again.
And you were standing right in front of him, yet you seemed even farer away now than you had in the arena.
"But it's mine."
Silence settled between you as both of you considered the meaning of your words.
"So all of this...for nothing? You say all these things to me, that you won't let me die and that I'm different and then you break the rules to save me only for what?!"
You shook your head furiously. Desperately. "So you can go back to the capitol and pretend this never happened?!"
He should have felt outrage, but for the first time since he had been sent to the gamemaster and learned his fate he felt numb inside.
"No."
You stared at him in bewilderment, your face a portrayal of the storm of emotion he had felt trapped inside of him for so long. "I would never pretend", he took a stride towards you.
“You changed me. And I think I changed you."
His hands found your face again and to his own surprise you let it happen. "We belong with each other."
You stared at him, a deep sadness in your eyes as you silently shook your head.
"Only not in this world", you whispered, ducking away from his touch and disappearing into the shadows without another word.
He stood there, staring at the spot you had vaished, a part of him leaving with you.
Part 3
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wongyuuu · 1 month
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lens of ice | yjh | one
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pairing: jeonghan x f!reader genre: figure skater jeonghan, light angst, a little fluff, smut in the next part word count: 12k summary: jeonghan has only one chance left to make it to the olympics. as he embarks on this decisive journey, you, a documentarist, are set to follow him as he seeks the ultimate glory. warnings: jeonghan is kind of reckless with his body a/n: i've been writing this one for so long now and though it's not finished yet, i decided to post half of it, as a way to motivate myself to finish it. i really wanna thank @ressonancee first for giving me idea and second for helping me through all of this and putting up my crazy ass mind 💓
part one | part two (final)
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The light buzzing of the fluorescent lights made him uncomfortable, it was like a premonition of what was to come. Something bad, he was sure.
Jeonghan was many things in his life, stubborn perhaps being the most obvious one, but dumb wasn't one then. He knew that his ankle was fucked up, that he was probably the cause of it. Too many hours of training, never giving himself enough time to heal before he got the ice again. He didn't know exactly how bad it was, that was for the doctor in front of him to say, but Jeonghan knew that nothing good would come out of the man's mouth.
"It's worse than I thought," the man said with a sigh, taking off his glasses "It's not just your ankle anymore, it's also your knee. And, I could be wrong, but considering the way you're walking, I'd say that you're right ankle also started to bother you"
Jeonghan hung his head. He was an athlete and he knew that he was being reckless, beyond actually. He should have gone to his coach the second he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. But he just went home, took an ice bath, and kept the whole thing to himself. Even on the following days, when the pain didn't go away at all, he still chose to keep his mouth shut and go to practice every day. And his coach, unaware of his condition, kept pushing him during practice. 
Not that he needed anyone to be harsh on him, Jeonghan did all of that on his own. But having someone else do that for him as well brought out a different desire for perfection. One that came from a dark place to show someone else that he was good, to prove people wrong.
"Can I still compete?" was all he asked, it was the only thing that mattered to him "Can I make it to the Olympics? It's the last one for me, after this I retire"
The look on the doctor's face wasn't reassuring, Jeonghan knew that his next words wouldn't be the ones he wanted. He wasn't about to hear what he needed.
"If, and only if, you have surgery, take physical therapy seriously, and rest as we instruct you, there might be a possibility. Small, but it exists" 
"When can I have the surgery?"
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You stared at your computer screen, a hand on your forehead as you read the email your boss sent you. You sat at your desk, not really knowing what to do.
"Seungkwan!" you called without looking up "Did you get this email too?"
Just to make sure that you weren't crazy, you read it once again. The third time in less than five minutes. No matter how many times you read it, it didn't change.
"Yeah. I'm excited but scared…"
That was enough to get your attention.
"Why?" 
Closing your laptop, you stood up moving closer to Seungkwan. Unlike you, who read the email many times, Seungkwan had already started his research. Not that he really needed to, everyone at the office knew that he was a huge fan of figure skating. So of course he would know all about Yoon Jeonghan.
The nation's pride and joy in figure skating, at least in the make category.
"Why scared? I thought everyone loved him"
It was impossible to look away from the picture Seungkwan had open on his computer. Jeonghan's face really was something else, as if he had been carved in marble by some ancient Greek artist. From his dark hair covering his eyes, giving him almost a mysterious vibe, to the way his lips were slightly crooked into a smile. You had to give it to him, the man was absolutely stunning. No wonder he left a trail of fans everywhere he went.
"He isn't the biggest enthusiast when it comes to the press. He barely gives interviews so I guess doing a documentary about him won't be easy"
Seungkwan kept scrolling, reading the latest news on Jeonghan. But the truth was that there wasn't any. His social media was also rarely updated, the last post was from months before.
"Well, good luck to you"
"What do you mean? You're the one in charge"
You just shook your head. The problem was Jeonghan honestly, you barely knew anything about him, though Seungkwan's words didn't help the case. The thing was that you barely knew anything at all about sports, in general, much less about figure skating. Lack of knowledge was an easy fix. The real issue was the fact that a documentary on a sport was way too different from what you usually did.
"I'm not doing this one. I have other projects I want to work on. Plus, this is too sudden. They want us to start tomorrow, Seungkwan. Do you really think that it's possible to have anything done by tomorrow?" he shook his head and you nodded in agreement "Precisely, so I'm sure that if we talk with Jihoon…"
"Nothing will change" 
A curse left your lips at the sudden voice behind you. Turning around you faced the small man. Jihoon had his arms crossed over his chest and the look in his eyes that told you that no matter what he wouldn't let you off the hook. Still, you had to try.
"Jihoon, I'm not your sports person. And it's too soon. I don't anything about Jeonghan or figure skating"
Jihoon simply shook his head at you.
"They want a different approach than the average sports documentary, so I recommended you. I'm sending Seungkwan with you because I know this isn't your area of expertise, though I highly suggest you do some sort of research" he turned around to leave with a wave of his hand then turned around for a second, as if remembering something "Hansol will be your camera and sound guy. They asked for a small crew"
With a salute Jihoon left.
"Fuck"
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You couldn't take your eyes away from the crutches under Jeonghan's arms and the orthopedic boot around his left leg. There was not a single article that pointed to surgery. There were plenty about his constant injuries though. Seungkwan had the same look on his face, of pure shock. 
"Are you okay?" you asked once he made himself comfortable on the couch.
Jeonghan sat sideways on the couch, his leg propped up over cushions. The position looked weird but he didn't seem to mind.
"Ah, this" he pointed at his leg nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing "Yeah, it's okay. Had to get the surgery done in order to make it to the next Olympic"
Nodding, you looked around. His apartment wasn't as big as you had expected. In fact, the three of you stood closely together in the living room, a bit too small for all the gear Hansol said he needed.
"Put your things down, let's talk. I don't know how this is going to work"
Me neither, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. Thankfully, Seungkwan was there to help you.
"Before we start any real interview or conversation, I think we have to tell you that this was very last minute for us. We only heard about this documentary yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon" he used his kindest voice, his voice laced with concern and a hit of fear, maybe "yn is in charge, she's the documentarist, she'll be asking the questions and dictating the overall direction that we're going to take with the documentary. I'm Seungkwan and that's Hansol. This is the smallest crew he could assemble"
Seungkwan was giving too many explanations, you felt. But he also wasn't wrong. What he did was normal, he was just introducing the crew. Maybe you were a little irritated by the way you were tossed into this job, without someone giving you enough time to prepare. Sixteen hours were barely enough.
"I assume my… reputation has gotten to you," Jeonghan said, a small smile on his lips.
A reputation he had indeed. Jeonghan was known for not liking the press and journalists. He avoided them at all costs and once, on one occasion, was seen being rude. And honestly, you had to give him a pass for it. Pushing the camera away from his face, almost delicately, could barely be considered rude at such a moment. There were way too many cameras around, all of them on his face, trying to get some sort of pronouncement on why he had not made it to the podium. 
And that had been years before but people still remembered him by that one moment. But what exactly did they expect? He underperformed, came in fourth place, and injured himself in the process. Was anyone expecting a happy and bright Jeonghan? 
"You can be comfortable around me. A conversation like this is fine. I just don't like being swarmed" 
Though his words were inviting, his face told a whole different story. He clearly didn't want this documentary.
"All of our interactions will be recorded," you told him, not leaving room for arguments on his end "These first few minutes aren't, out of courtesy and so that we can set our goals. I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything, or something that you don't want to be filmed, either right now or before we turn the cameras on. Once we start, we won't stop"
Jeonghan adjusted his position on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. It was like he was measuring your every move. He didn't like your tone, and how aggressive you were towards him. 
"I know this was last minute and I apologize for that. This is going to be my last run and, as much as I hate to admit, I'm a bit sensitive to it.
With furrowed eyebrows, you nodded. Jeonghan knew that you didn't believe him or that you cared about his reasons. He knew that the sole reason you were there was because someone made you. 
"Will you need to film my family?" 
"Yes, usually film family members to get a complete idea of someone's life" 
Turning around you nodded at Hansol, telling him to start setting up. With a shake of his head, Seungkwan moved to help him.
"I don't want my family to know the extent of my injuries. So if you only want them for context, to know about me as a child, that's fine. But they can't know anything about this" Jeonghan pointed at his leg "I've been hiding this for a very long time and I'd like to keep it that way"
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You dropped your bag on the couch, eyes tired and mind filled with one too many thoughts. The day had been easier than you expected, far more so. 
Based on Seungkwan's words you had expected to fight with Jeonghan in a way. It was a documentary so you needed him to talk and talk he did. There was no question unanswered or dodged, all of his answers were precise and consistent. All of it had sounded fake like he had rehearsed them a million times.
Even if you thought that your question had been good, and had caught him off guard, Jeonghan seemed to be fully prepared for it. He didn't hesitate for a second. 
In the few hours you spent around him, you finally managed to understand the fascination most people had with him. He was handsome, yes, but that was just the very basic and surface level of him. Beyonce that he was also good with his words. It was hard to tell that he was lying because he talked with conviction. After just one interview you were sure that if one day Jeonghan decided to tell you that your mom wasn’t actually your mother, you’d somehow believe him.
And the man knew all of it. He was aware of his beauty and charm, of what it did to normal people, and he used it in his favor. Jeonghan knew that most people couldn’t resist a handsome talented man. And that was a part he was all too willing to fill.
“Yeah,” you answered your phone, not bothering to see who it was, certain that it was just Jihoon.
“How was it today?” he sounded just as tired as you felt and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was okay.
“Fine”
“Just fine?”
You turned on your back, facing the ceiling, or at least whatever you could see with the lights turned off - not a whole lot, to be honest.
“He lied through his teeth today. There was no manager, and no coach around, though I do remember him saying someone would come. The person never showed up” you sighed “Seungkwan hates and Vernon probably thinks I’m a crazy bitch. So yeah, just fine”
Jihoon laughed on the other side of the line and you felt the little butterflies in your stomach come to life. You rolled your eyes at yourself. How pathetic it was of you, to have a crush on your boss. How very much bland of you.
Growing up, like a lot of girls that were influenced by way too much TV, you had wanted the be the odd one out. The I’m one of the guys kind of girl, or the one who refused to wear any kind of makeup or even come close to the pink because that was just girly for you. And now there you were, in love with the color pink, finding excuses to wear pretty dresses, and having a crush on your boss.
Teenage you would throw eggs at your head if she had the chance.
“Okay, but how was Jeonghan?” Jihoon pressed even further.
You sighed and closed your eyes, covering over face with your hand.
“He was polite, answered all of my questions, had a pleasant smile the entire time, and only asked for a bathroom break while we were there. Offered us food and drinks. He was fine” you said again, emphasizing the fine.
You could picture Jihoon, nodding his head and looking at the floor, probably thinking of what to ask next.
“Why would Seungkwan hate you? And why would Vernon think you’re a bitch?”
“Seungkwan thinks I went too hard on Jeonghan and Vernon just trusts Seungkwan’s judgment and goes with it”
Jihoon laughed again and you heard him moving around.
“Classic yn, going at someone while she’s angry. At least your anger was sort of directed to the right person”
“What is that supposed to mean?” you sat up.
You liked to think that you didn’t act that way all the time. In your mind, most of the time, you were able to hide your anger and just play nice like your mother had taught you to be. Jihoon’s words told a completely different story.
“Have some rest, there’s still a lot of work to do. Tomorrow you’re going with him to rehab, right?” Jihoon paused for a second and you heard a female voice in the back, you couldn’t make out what she said but you were sure of who it belonged to “I have to go. We’ll talk next week”
The line was disconnected and leaned back on the couch again. The problem of having a crush on your boss was also the fact that he had a long-time girlfriend and soon he was supposed to be marrying her.
You groaned, wondering if you had gone far enough that there was no going back from this crush.
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You sat across from Jeonghan once again, the position exactly the same as the first day. But this time you chose to be less irritable.
The other day you were frustrated because you had to give up other projects to be able to accompany Jeonghan and that, thinking rationally, had nothing to do with him. He asked for a specific documentary filmmaker profile and you were chosen by the studio. Maybe it was more your fault than his. But it was also a no-return kind of situation. The job was assigned to you and there was nothing you could do to change it. So the least you could do was do your best and pray that it didn’t take a turn for the worse.
And, if anything, the conversation with Jihoon helped you focus on work. It wouldn't be the first time you were doing something you didn't want to do and it certainly wouldn't be the last. So you decided that the best thing to do was just work, showing your professional side that had been left aside before.
Jeonghan looked at you the same way, eyes serious as if he was ready for a new attack.
"Thank you," he said to Vernon, who had just placed the microphone inside his jacket, so that he could pick up the sound well, but it was not visible to the camera.
You turned to Seungkwan and Vernon, waiting for confirmation from the two that you could begin. You received a wave from each of them after they checked that the cameras were on and recording.
You took a deep breath and turned to Jeonghan.
"I wanted to apologize for yesterday," you said "I wasn't fair to you. I was irritated by things that had nothing to do with you, but I somehow decided that they did"
Everyone in Jeonghan's living room seemed to hold their breath, you included. You didn't know what to expect from Jeonghan, not really. You had been anything but ungracious with him, in a way that to most people meant that any door between you two had closed.
Jeonghan decided, at that moment, that he had two options: a) he could let the previous day dictate how all interactions between the two of you from then on would be, and it would be many months of a bad relationship that would bring no benefit to anyone involved in it; or b) he could accept your apology, which seemed sincere enough, and let go of the discomfort he felt.
Option b was actually the only possible choice.
“Okay” he finally smiled “my reputation isn’t the best, either way”
Seungkwan and Vernon breathed a sigh of relief. It was as if a huge gray cloud had moved away and the weather was beginning to clear.
“No, your reputation had no influence. I was the one who lost my hand because of my problems and for that, I apologize” you said and you were sincere in your words “But Jeonghan, I need you to stop seeing me as your enemy. I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
“You think I wasn’t honest?” he tilted his head as if analyzing you.
“In the same way that you don't want your reputation to affect the way I see you, I need you to not let the way you see other journalists affect the way you see me. I want to tell your story, however you want it told, but I need you to be honest with me.”
You hoped Jeonghan could understand what you were saying.
He was silent for a minute, his eyes fixed on his hands. His hair covered his face, so it was hard to get an idea of what was going through his head.
You looked at Seungkwan, seeking confirmation that you hadn’t been rude. He seemed to be as lost as you were, but the small smile he gave you was enough to make your restless heart rest for a second.
“What if I say something and regret it later?”
It was the first time Jeonghan looked insecure and it was a strange sight, but much more realistic than the other version of him.
“We can edit it, it’s not a problem. I said that because I was angry” you said apologetically once again.
“Can we throw it all away and start again?”
Jeonghan smiled and you had no choice but to smile along with him.
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“Let’s start with what’s happening now,” you said, folding your legs under your body, notebook open to a blank page and a pen ready to take notes “You underwent surgery not long ago, right? Why?"
Jeonghan took a deep breath, eyes closed for a second before placing all his attention on you. His gaze was almost too intense. You had to force yourself not to look anywhere but at him.
“A few years ago I fell during training and twisted my ankle. At the time, it wasn't a big deal and if I had stayed quiet for a few weeks, and did everything right, I wouldn't have had any problems. But I couldn't do it, I was preparing for a competition. I didn't tell anyone about the problem and just endured the pain. When I participated in the competition I fell again and that only made the situation worse. Today I have a problem with my ligament and tendon.”
With every word that left his mouth, you felt like a lump was forming in your throat, and with every second it was getting bigger.
Unlike the day before, it didn't seem like Jeonghan was lying, but you didn't know if you wanted the truth he was sharing. Even if it was a lie, a character he had created, the version of Jeonghan from before was a little brighter, a little more present in the moment. The version of him that was in front of you, that you imagined to be the closest to reality, was almost sad, detached from everything.
“Because I forced my right knee a lot, trying to compensate for the lack of my left one, I developed a problem with that one too”
“You’ve never talked about your injuries before, right?” he nodded “Why talk now?”
He was silent again, his lower lip caught between his teeth. That was a great question, one that not even Jeonghan himself knew exactly how to answer.
“I'm not sure, to be honest” he laughed a little. Instead of looking directly at the camera, his eyes were focused on you “Someone came up with the idea at some point and it didn't seem like a bad one, but I think it will only work if I make it to the Olympics.”
“Is that the ultimate goal then, to get to the Olympics?”
He shook his head, that fearless, confident look you had only seen in photos finally making itself known.
“No, the ultimate goal is to win”
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As promised, Jeonghan waited for you, Seungkwan, and Vernon outside the clinic. He was nowhere to be seen, really, but the car his assistant informed you of was parked right in front of the door.
You were the first one to exit your own car, while Seungkwan and Vernon prepared the camera to follow along. You could only assume he was the manager. Terribly young for a manager, sure, but a manager nonetheless.
“I assume you’re in” he extended a hand to you “I’m Joshua”
“Hi”
The exchange of words with Joshua was quick, no more than half a dozen. You didn't have much to talk about with him and he wasn't your priority, at least not at the moment. Later, at some other time, talking to him would be great. He had introduced himself as a friend/manager of Jeonghan. Having his point of view would be great and could contribute a lot, but your eyes couldn't leave Jeonghan.
His hair was tied back, but a cap covered much of his face. He had barely said hi to you or the other two. It wasn't a big surprise. While it was true that made up to a certain extent, you didn't expect him to simply welcome you with open arms, but his reaction was strange - or as strange as the reaction of a person you knew little, or nothing, could be.
“Can we film it?” You asked.
Jeonghan stopped and turned towards you. He had forgotten that you and your team would attend his first physical therapy session, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
Since the last time you saw each other, Jeonghan spent hours on end watching documentaries made by you and they all had one thing in common: they were almost like video logs. You followed everyone around documenting every tiny aspect of their lives. All those people told their stories and didn't seem afraid of having their lives exposed. And perhaps for people who didn't lead lives where they had been exposed too much, sincerity came easily.
For Jeonghan, that was never the case.
Being treated as the future, a promise of the sport, had brought a lot of harm and situations that neither he, nor anyone else, had the option to deal with or even, perhaps, ignore.
Cameras were pointed at him, rumors spread and suddenly he wasn't just Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who started skating because it would annoy his little sister. He became someone from whom people expected something.
As much as he could, Jeonghan tried to live up to all of those expectations, realistic or not. He tried to be as perfect as possible, on the ice and off of it. And it only took one day of silence, a few rude unanswered questions, and one bad performance — which had no real effect — for everything to collapse.
“You said you would film anything and everything.”
You grimaced, clearly regretful and maybe even a little embarrassed. It wasn't his intention, but he found your reaction funny anyway.
In your place, Jeonghan would have done much worse.
“Do you think it’s important?”
You nodded, perhaps more forcefully than necessary. Jeonghan laughed, he wanted to hold your head to make sure it was still in the right place.
“The documentary is about your return, so filming you here is important. I asked because it's your first session. I heard it can be painful.”
“It will probably be uncomfortable” he couldn’t deny that “Let’s do it like this, you can record it, if in the end you think it’s bad or that it doesn’t fit, we won’t use it
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You quietly followed Jeonghan and Joshua out of the clinic, Seungkwan and Vernon trailing behind you talking in hushed tones. It was no surprise that they were talking. Truth was rehab had been brutal. You knew that it could get hard for Jeonghan, that it could be painful but nothing really prepared you for what you saw. And if it was hard for you to watch him go through that, it was unimaginable to understand how it was for him.
Throughout the entire session, Jeonghan looked in pain, his grunts and the scowl on his face growing with each passing second and new movement. Midway through you told Seungkwan and Vernon to stop filming. You had seen enough and you had more than what you needed for the documentary. 
You would only film his rehab again when he was no longer in such pain, you decided. Out of the many things you learned about Jeonghan was that showing his weaknesses wasn’t something he was too fond of or even comfortable with the idea of it. So there was no real reason to keep recording and you couldn’t stand it either. 
While you watched his face contort in pain, you felt something inside your chest tighten. 
It had never been a real issue before with you. You had always managed to separate your personal emotions from the things you felt while working. More often than not you told stories that were hard to listen to, took someone’s suffering, and put it on the TV for the entire world to see in hopes that maybe a part of their lives would be changed. You had always been able to detach yourself from that. 
However while inside with Jeonghan, such a thing was not possible. You felt your throat constrict and your eyes grow wet and for a short while, you couldn’t breathe either. It made no sense really. Why did it hurt to see this man, you knew nothing about, in pain to the point you wanted to cry? Why did it sadden you so much that he was limping harder than before?
You wanted to approach him, ask if he was okay, if it had been too much. But it was out of line, it was one that you knew you shouldn’t cross. There was this itch though, in the back of your mind, begging you to just ask, to just take a step closer to him. 
It happened so suddenly that you didn’t even see it happening. One second it was just the five of you in the parking lot, in the next there were reporters with mics and cameras pointed at Jeonghan. You noticed how Jeonghan raised his shoulders at the same time he lowered his head. He couldn’t see in front of himself, you were certain. 
Joshua put an arm around Jeonghan’s shoulder while he used the other one to keep them away from him. Not that it was of any use. One of the cameras was directly under his face as if trying to get an expression, anything at all, that could show his discomfort with the situation. From somewhere behind you there were flashes. 
"Do you believe your injury was a result of your own carelessness?"  someone asked. 
You felt your blood run cold for a second and you froze in place, Seungkwan and Vernon behind you. 
"Do you think your skating career is over after such devastating injuries?" someone followed. 
"Did you regret pushing yourself so hard during training, knowing it led to your injury?" 
"How did it feel to watch other skaters progress while you were stuck in rehab?" 
"Are you worried that your injury will define your career more than your achievements on the ice?" 
The questions got progressively worse and you wanted to scream at them to just shut up, and stop. How could they just ambush someone like that with those questions? It made no sense at all. And though you knew that it would cause more harm than good you wished Jeonghan would tell them all to fuck off.
Instead, he kept his head low and just slowly walked to his car while ignoring everyone around him, all the careless words being thrown at him. 
You tried to take a step forward but were held back by Seungkwan, who gripped the strap of your purse. He didn’t say a word, just shook his head. 
“They can’t just do that to him” you almost cried
“If you say anything, it might only make matters worse,” Hansol said, his voice sad. 
That sudden need to protect Jeonghan felt weird but oddly natural as well. Weird because you knew that you shouldn’t, because you hardly knew the guy. Natural because it felt as if you had always done that like it was just second nature to you. 
“He is used to this,” Seungkwan said, still not letting go of your purse. 
“He shouldn’t be! They are barely treating him like a human!”
By the time you turned around, Jeonghan was already inside the car leaving the parking lot. 
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The clock on the top of your phone screen told you that it was 4:37 am. You hadn't even realized that you had spent so many hours still awake. 
As soon as you got home from the rehab with Jeonghan, you took a quick shower, ate the leftovers from the night before, and started to look up Jeonghan’s performances.
The man was a celebrity amongst athletes since he was a child. He was always seen as a promise of the sport. He was good from the start. Performing moves that he was still too young to do, entering competitions boys his age never really competed in and somehow managing to either come up to the podium or even winning some of them.
Everything was displayed online. Yearly competitions, practices, and small moments of his life.
Jeonghan's entire life, at least the sports part, was exposed on the internet for anyone, from anywhere in the world, to see. And it wasn't just the competitions, having videos of that part seemed completely normal and expected.
What was scary was all the other content. Some photos of him in school uniform, not one where he was actually looking at the camera, but ones that were clearly taken in secret. Another one from when he seemed to have simply gone out for coffee with Joshua.
You knew he had fans, that he was liked wherever he went, and that he was always followed, but that seemed a bit much.
In reality, watching videos of the competitions was like a gateway to everything that came after.
You knew very little about Jeonghan, only what you had read about in all the articles that you found and all of them had one thing in common: Jeonghan was a huge diva, who thought he was superior to everyone. But after seeing how he had been treated that day, as soon as he got out of rehab, you knew it wasn't like that. It was as if they had appeared out of nowhere, one second the parking lot was empty and the next it was full of journalists, shouting things and asking questions that to many would seem harmless, but were clearly intended to hurt.
Instead of watching more competition videos, not that there were many you hadn't watched yet, you decided to look for the famous video of him treating journalists badly.
You had never found one so easily on the internet. You just typed "Jeonghan and journalists" into the search bar and it was the first video to appear.
It was a scene very similar to the previous day. Jeonghan was in the parking lot, walking towards the guy when he was surrounded by several journalists.
"You didn't get the podium today, are you disappointed?" one of them asked and that was the most harmless question he got. “Did you really try hard or did you think you would get a high score because you were the favorite?” “Why did you fall in such a simple jump?” “Don't you think it was an amateur's performance?”
You didn't want to keep listening to all those meaningless questions, but you couldn't take your eyes off Jeonghan. He still had short hair at the time, even covering his eyebrows. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were hard, and his gaze was focused straight ahead, as he walked slowly to his car. Joshua tried as best he could to control the journalists with their microphones and cameras, but he was just one man against many. Finally, after what felt like ages, two security guards appeared, pushing the journalists away as they began shouting profanities in Jeonghan's direction.
Could those people even consider themselves journalists? Real journalists, who took their work seriously?
There is a very fine line between being a journalist who asks incisive questions and one who is completely disrespectful to the athlete. And those people were anything but professional.
It was no surprise that after that Jeonghan refused to give interviews.
That whole situation happened years before, at the beginning of the previous Olympic cycle, but even so, it was still a moment that haunted him. People remembered him as just that guy, someone who refused to answer simple questions. But what exactly did these people expect? That he was all smiles when he failed to reach the podium, even though he was the favorite in the competition? That he smiles when he hurts?
Finally, you managed to understand why he acted that way, and why his answers were so polite and direct. Jeonghan didn't want to leave room for interpretation. Not that he had much of a choice. People only see what they want to see, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.
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Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes away from your back, he followed your every move. You stood next to Joshua, talking to him quietly, his friend showing you something on his phone. He felt something scratch at his neck. This new and unknown feeling. 
It was unusual for Jeonghan, to want to have someone’s undivided attention. It was usually the other way around and he was never willing to do it, with anyone. And then there you were and suddenly he didn’t like that you were talking with Joshua. 
It wasn’t like you seemed to be having fun either. You moved around with intention, your eyes always focused, your words and questions firm and straight to the point. Jeonghan couldn’t help but wonder if it was always like that with you. If your professional persona always took over who you were in other moments. 
His curiosity was huge but his courage to ask was very little. 
“She may seem like it, but she won’t bite your head off if you talk with her,” someone said on his left.
Seungkwan stood at his side, his hands clasped in front of him while he rocked on his heels. 
“I think she will,” Jeonghan said. 
Seungkwan took his reply as an invitation to sit. 
“You know, in the office, people call her the ice queen” he too looked in your direction, at your serious expression "She’s like that most of the time”
Jeonghan looked at Seungkwan expectantly, he knew there was a but coming soon. All he needed to do was wait long enough. 
“She didn’t want to take this job, our boss forced her to. She’s more into storytelling, real people, with real issues”
“Am I not a real person?”
The offense in Jeonghan’s voice made Seungkwan almost fall off his chair. He didn’t intend for his words to sound like that.
“Of course you are” he laughed nervously while trying to explain it as best as he could “If it were up to her, she would focus this documentary on you, on how you started skating, why, what attracted you to it, how it affected the rest of your life. But your team doesn’t want that, I think. We were told that you already gave many interviews on the matter so there’s no point in talking about it again. They want us to focus on your recovery and then you make it to the Olympics. She’s trying to figure out how to do that in a way that makes someone watch it”
Jeonghan nodded, feeling guilty. It had been his request to not the documentary so focused on the past and more on what was happening in the moment
“She also doesn’t like sports and hated the idea of the job, but that's beside the point”
Both of them laughed, eyes still on your back now that you talked with Vernon, giving him new instructions.
“I’ll make sure that she gets to do the kind of documentary she thinks is best”
Seungkwan stood up, a big smile on his lips.
“Who could have known that the ice queen and the ice prince aren’t actually that cold”
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After months of just rehab, it’s finally time for Jeonghan to get back on the ice and it pained you a little to admit that you were looking forward to it. The videos you watched could only take you so far, you wanted to actually see the real thing. Him, in action.
Of course, you know that he wasn’t going to be able to do a third of the things he did on those videos. But you wanted to see him in his element, how he would behave when he was finally around the thing he loved the most in the world — his words, not yours. 
The one thing you were able to learn from Jeonghan was the fact that he indeed loved what he did. Like most people, sometimes he hated it. It was the thing he was most passionate about, yes, but it was also his job, so there were days when he just hated and the mere idea of leaving the house was too much. 
It was too hard to be a professional athlete, it demanded way too much of him. Of anyone, really. Sometimes he wanted to be like everyone else and just not put everything he was into it. But if he did that, he lost one single day, he was scared that he could lose an entire year and maybe that year turned into two and then he could lose his chance to go to the Olympics. 
And he only had one change left. 
So, instead of focusing on much he didn’t want to do, Jeonghan decided to focus on the fact that there was only a year ahead of him and he would be able to do whatever he wanted and have as many down days as he wanted. 
He didn’t know what he wanted to do and what would be the after for him but it gave him something to look forward to. 
“Are you nervous?” you asked him.
Jeonghan was someone who was mostly quiet. You noticed that once he started to feel more comfortable he was one to start the conversation and even crack a few jokes here and there. Seungkwan had been the first person he kind of opened up to, which had left you a hint of jealousy. You wanted to be one he talked with mostly because it was your job but also just because. 
However, he had been especially quiet that day. The three of you went to meet him at his apartment. The idea was that you’d follow him the entire day, from the moment he woke up, to when he went to the doctor to get the final clear and then finally to the ring. 
He had talked very little, his eyes always focused somewhere else. It was clear that his mind was traveling somewhere far, far away. So you left him be, quietly watching him just move around. A silent shooting day, you told yourself  In the end, however, you had a job and he needed to do the talking.
“It’s been too long,” he said, his eyes never really leaving the ice “I don’t know if I can still do it”
You laughed, causing him to finally look at you, eyes wide on his face. He tried to look serious but the corners of his lips were turned slightly up.
“You just don’t feel confident, but you didn’t forget it” you looked at his ankle, it was still weird to see him without any sort of protection around it “How’s your ankle?”
He just shook his head and in that moment you chose to believe that he was said It doesn’t bother me anymore. 
Through the interviews, you found out that Jeonghan is the kind of person to suffer in silence. It was clear from all of his previous injuries, how he competed while in pain and only ever said anything when it was almost too late.
“Do you think I can still do it?”
There was something in his voice like he was almost on the verge of breaking. He sounded vulnerable in a way that was entirely too new, in a way you wanted to push Vernon and his camera away because that was a part of him you knew he didn’t want the world to see. 
Instead, you reached for his arm, patting it a couple of times, hoping that your touch, as ungraceful and awkward as it was, was able to soothe him, even if it was just for a moment. 
“I was watching some of your competitions last night, again, you know? And that guy? He’s still in there, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen him”
You weren’t just saying that to cheer him up, your words were true. You had seen that version of him, little glimpses here and there. He was in the way his eyes suddenly changed and it was like he owned the entire room, in the way he suddenly turned confident, in the way he was charming in a way that was almost sickening but all too enchanting either way. 
Whether or not he believed it himself, Yoon Jeonghan was a force to be reckoned with.
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"What kind of kid were you?" you asked, looking up at Jeonghan. 
He sat opposite to you, bent down to tie the laces on his skates. His hair covered his face, you were sure that he couldn't see much, but he didn't seem bothered by it in the least. Maybe he had just gotten used to it. 
Four months had gone by since you started to follow Jeonghan and even before that, he had kept his hair long. And you hated to admit that he looked good, too good even.
"What kind do you think I was?" He smirked at you for a second before going back to his skates.
Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile. 
"This is not how it works. I ask the questions here"
Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, giving you his full attention. His smirk did something to your insides. It felt tight and loose at the same time, like wild butterflies running around on your skin. 
"Come on, humor me"
You pretended to be in deep thought, Jeonghan as a child had been something you thought about for a long time now. Even though he was very serious most of the time there were these small moments where he looked like a kid ready to do something he wasn't supposed to.
"I can only think of you as a troublemaker” you smiled, closing your notes knowing well that you’d make no progress at all with the filming “I’ve seen pictures of you and a child and although you looked very cute, I’m sure you were a handful to your mother”
Jeonghan laughed, throwing his head back and in that moment he looked so carefree.
Even since the start of the documentary Jeonghan had used his most serious expressions, a frown always taking over his beautiful features. But he had been back on the ice for a few days already and in those days he had looked the happiest you had seen him yet.
Of course, he still hasn’t practiced the way he wanted or the way he used to. He still needed to take things slowly: fewer hours, less power in the movements. But it was undeniable that he was a completely different person.
It wasn’t that he had been in a bad mood every single day but there was just something about him in his element, of him doing something he was obviously passionate about, that was so enchanting that it became impossible to look away from him.
“Where did you see those pictures?”
“You do know that I had to google you because I had no idea who you were, right?”
One thing you managed to learn about Jeonghan is the fact that, if in the right mood, he is a trickster and most of all, a flit. You weren’t even sure that he was aware of what he was doing, it seemed like second nature to him.
He put a hand over his chest, faking being in pain. His face contorted and a pout on his lips.
“I thought we were getting to know each other”.
Seungkwan coughed by your side, finally making you remember that there were people around you and that the entire interaction between you and Jeonghan was being recorded.
There was something about Jeonghan that always seemed to make you forget where you were, that maybe there were people around you. You could only suppose that it was the charm of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew how to sweet talk someone.
And Jeonghan knew what he was doing, what kind of words or looks could get a reaction from a woman.
Most of the time while around Jeonghan you had to remind your heart to be calm and quiet. Being around him was a temporary arrangement, as soon as the Olympics started said arrangement would be done and you’d have to go back to your normal life. One that didn’t include Yoon Jeonghan. And you also knew that there wasn’t space for you in his life.
“We’re going to set up the cameras around the ice,” Seungkwan said awkwardly while dragging Verno by the hand.
You watched as the two walked away from you, whispering in secrecy. You could only imagine the kind of things that they were saying. If you knew Seungkwan at all, you were certain that it couldn’t be any good.
“Jeonghan, I ask questions and you answer them. And while one could say that I’m getting to know you, I don’t think it would be possible to say the same thing about me”
Jeongahn's smile was defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You have a no-bullshit policy, which I should have known, from the start, but I wasn’t expecting someone like you. Although you try really hard to pretend that you’re not, your eyes are kind and you quietly take care of those around you, me included sometimes. You got worried when I was in pain in rehab and when Vernon got hurt it seemed as if you were angry, but you were concerned about him and after that, you asked to have another staff with you so that he wouldn’t need to carry so many things on his own. You and Seungkwan bicker a lot but when he isn’t around for a day you are quieter and your questions have been more direct. That doesn’t make you a lousy documentarist, please don’t think that I’m saying that, you take your job very seriously. I’m saying that you put people above your job. I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to become a documentarist, to begin with, to tell stories”
You stared at him, mouth open wondering just how he had come up with all of that and why he had managed to hit everything right on the stop. Especially the reason why you became a documentarist. It seemed very obvious, yes, but it wasn’t something that you had said.
In fact, your personal life was something that very few people knew. You weren’t one to share your thoughts and what was on your mind with people. Seungkwan was a good friend, but he was a work friend so your personal life was just that, personal. Not that you had someone to share it with, either way.
The apartment was empty when you left and it was in the exact same way and you got back. You were on your own, with no parents, no siblings and most of your friends had given up on you somewhere along the way.
For the longest time, you put your job first. It came before anything and anyone. You were building your career and name at the time so it was hard not to put it first. It was your dream, one that your friends supported at first but were displeased when you decided to put it first.
You had thought that if you made it big on your job if you got hired by a big production company, you’d be able to find the happiness that you had searched for a long time. And while some of it was true, your career was on the right path and you did something you loved, you didn’t have a lot more beyond that going one.
It was become just you and your job.
Was it sad? Yes, but it was also the life you chose.
“Just because I don’t know details of your life, doesn’t mean that I don’t watch you, yn”
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You watched as Jeonghan fell for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It didn't make sense, not really. At least not for you. And from the looks of it, for him too.
He was frustrated and completely angry. All those people looking at him, expectations high, waiting for something. He wasn't sure what. For him to fail? To see if he still could do it?
Everything was possible and impossible at the same time.
He couldn't stop his eyes from going after you every time you fell. Somehow, your reaction was the only one that mattered to him. The first few times your face was completely emotionless, as if you were staring at a blank wall. Then Jeonghan fell once again, and again, and again. He stopped counting at 10, but he knew it was much more than that actually. But your gaze, which was fixed on him, became more worried as the minutes passed and he hated being the cause of it.
Somehow, since he met you, only two things were on Jeonghan's mind: skating and you.
He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but you had taken over his every thought. It was as if you had walked through an imaginary door and entered his mind and decided that it was a great place to be.
Even on days when you didn't see each other because there was no recording, he was tempted to talk to you. And on one of those days, he just succumbed to the temptation of picking up the phone and calling you.
“Jeonghan, is everything okay?” was the first thing you said.
He hated that worry was the first emotion he awakened in you. He hated that the first thing you said wasn't "hello" like a normal person. But at the same time, the concern made him feel somehow welcomed. It could, of course, be all in his head, and what he saw as concern for himself was actually concern for the documentary.
"I just wanted to talk," he admitted.
Maybe it was because he had gotten used to talking to you, maybe it was because you offered zero judgment for the way he thought or reacted. Or maybe it was because it was you. Whatever it was, Jeonghan felt comfortable talking to you.
Telling the truth, about everything, was not difficult, in fact, it became something very easy. It was because of you, he knew.
"I realized I don't know anything about you"
You laughed and he listened as you moved through what he imagined to be his apartment.
"That's because I interview you and not the other way around"
He sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him as he supported the rest of his weight on his arms stretched behind him.
"Do you think it's so bad that I know anything about you?"
You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to think about the idea. It wasn't bad, not at all.
At several moments you found yourself with your cell phone in your hand, ready to send a message or call him. You weren’t sure what, but there was something about Jeonghan that just made you want to tell him everything.
"What do you want to know?" you said with a sigh.
"Whatever you want to share"
The great truth is that very little happened in your life. You lived alone, worked every day, and came home alone. Your last boyfriend, or even a fling, was over a year before. Your friends, if you could call them that, were all from work. Your life was quite still and dull. Even if you wanted to talk about work. Jeonghan was your job. There wasn't much to talk about.
"I don't think I have much to tell" you knew that what you were about to say wasn't the happiest topic in the world, but it was what you had to offer "My mother passed away when I was nineteen, since then I've been alone"
You could still clearly remember the day your father left. There wasn't a fight. He never packed his bag and left. One day he was there when you woke up, he gave you breakfast and took you to school, like he did on most days. But it was his job to pick you up and he never showed up. Your mother showed up instead, her eyes swollen as she did her smile to smile at you and explain to the teacher why she was so late. When you finally got home she said "Now it's just you and me. Daddy had to leave"
For months, years even, you waited for him to come back. You thought one day he would just appear in front of you. You were disappointed when it was your mother who showed up to pick you up when he didn't come to his birthdays when you called the number he had left with his mother and he never answered.
You waited until you turned 18 to go after him. You only had a name, but with that alone, a person can find everything on the internet. You found him in another state, working at a real estate agency. You sat down in front of him and talked for about half an hour. You made up a story about going to college and needing a place to live. You said your name and your mother's name several times, surname and everything, and at no point did he seem to connect one thing to the other. Until the last second, when you said you would think about renting the studio he had suggested, and he walked you to the door. He said, "I left for a reason, don't come back here."
You couldn't believe what you had heard. You couldn't understand why he left and why he never came back. But at that moment you decided that if he didn't want you, you didn't need him. Your mother had worked so hard to make sure you had everything you needed.
Exactly one year later, your mother died in a bizarre car accident. It was like being 7 years old again and losing another person, only in a much more painful way.
"You don’t have any siblings?" Jeonghan's voice on the other end brought you back "Relatives?"
You shook her head, even though you knew he couldn't see you.
"I was an only child, so no siblings. My mom was an orphan so relatives either. My father left when I was a child"
You and Jeonghan spent the whole night on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. From trivial things to more personal matters. His delight upon learning that you didn’t have a boyfriend didn’t go unnoticed. 
Calls and messages became commonplace between the two of you. Your heart raced every time a new message arrived and it was hard to hide your disappointment when you realized it wasn't from him. On days when you didn't see each other, you would stare at your phone, waiting for it to ring, waiting for him to call.
So you hoped he understood when you shook your head in his direction, a request written on your face. That's enough for today, you can try more tomorrow, you hoped he would understand.
Instead of trying one more time after he fell once again, he skated to the edge of the ice. His face was red from the effort, and his chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm trying to force air back into his lungs.
"I want everyone out," he said, his voice broken.
Seungkwan and Vernon didn't even question it, they simply started putting away the equipment. Jihoon, who had shown up unexpectedly to "supervise" didn't seem to understand what was going on, but turned to help Vernon.
Jeonghan's coach was the only one who approached him, his hand on the athlete's shoulder.
"Go home, rest. Tomorrow we try again"
Jeonghan shook his head. He would only get out of there after managing to make the damn jump, even if he had to stay the whole night.
"Just half an hour more, but I want to be alone"
The coach clearly didn't like the idea, but he knew it was stupid to try and make Jeonghan change his mind.
You turned to him, looking at his face, trying to figure out if he was in pain or if he was just being a big blockhead. Without giving yourself the luxury of thinking about what you were doing, you placed your hand over Jeonghan's and squeezed for a second. You hoped he understood what you meant.
"You have to rest"
You knew everyone was watching, that despite saying they were leaving they weren't actually moving. Jeonghan didn't seem to care and for a moment you decided not to care either.
“Stay,” he said softly, so only you could hear him “please.”
Some strands of hair were stuck to Jeonghan's face, you wanted to get them out of his face, but caution spoke louder. You looked over your shoulder and everyone was still looking at the two of you, but as soon as they noticed your gaze they started moving again. Seungkwan shouted “We’re leaving” and seconds later the door slammed.
Finally, you were alone.
“You have to rest,” you said again.
You took advantage of the fact that no one else was there and removed the strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Jeonghan sighed, his eyes closing as he leaned towards you. Just that little touch wasn't enough.
“I need to get it right”
"If you stop now and rest you will know what you are doing wrong"
A half smile shined on Jeonghan's face as he leaned further into the barrier, his face just inches away from his.
"My ego loves it when you say I'm doing something wrong”
You pushed him back, needing a little bit more space to yourself. He was too close, you could feel his breath on your nose and cheeks. It was suddenly as if the world was made of Yoon Jeonghan, it was just him and no one else. 
“I’m sure your ego will be just fine”
Instead of pulling your hand back, you allowed it to stay in his chest. Jeonghan smiled for a second before pressing his hand over yours. 
“Just another 30 minutes” he repeated what he said to his coach “I promise I’ll stop in precisely 30 minutes”
You nodded with a sigh. There was nothing you could do to stop him. Something told you that even if you threatened him to leave he would stay and practice, he would stay on the ice for far more than just 30 minutes if you weren’t around. 
So you sat down and waited for him. And he fell time and time again, his face growing displeased with himself at each passing second, each time he jumped but didn't manage to land. 
Jeonghan had done that same jump countless times before with ease as if one's body would simply perform such movements. To him, it always seemed as easy as walking. You had seen it in all of his videos, almost in trance by him. 
“If you’re not done in twenty-one minutes” you pretended to look at your imaginary watch “I’m taking you out of there by force”
Jeonghan threw his head back, laughing. 
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“Remember when you said that you never skated before?” Jeonghan asked after finally being able to breathe properly again.
You weren’t too sure how, but he had stopped after 30 minutes. A big smile on his face after he managed to land the jump after so many tries. After getting it right once, he didn’t get it wrong again. It was like something clicked inside his brain as if he had found the last missing piece of the puzzle.
Of all the things you said to Jeonghan, from the most personal to the most trivial, that was, by far, the only one you regretted. You had told him over the phone but he looked horrified, it was easy to imagine the wide eyes on his face.
But him standing there, in front of you, with a smile that could only be seen on the face of a mischievous child, said much more than any words he could utter.
“No,” you said, shaking your head, already moving back.
You had learned several peculiarities about Jeonghan in all the months you spent by his side, and one of the most glaring was the look in his eyes when he was about to do something he shouldn't.
“You have to try, at least once” his lips were a mixture of a smile and a pout “You will have the best teacher in the world”
You saw it and shook your head again.
“I can’t trust a teacher who spent the day falling” you pointed to the rink behind him.
As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You didn't know if your words would offend him, you hoped he knew it wasn't your intention. But you also knew that hell was paved with good intentions. Jeonghan was silent for a minute, his face serious, his eyes not leaving yours for an entire minute.
Then he smiled, his nose wrinkling a little as he laughed, loudly. It didn't take long for you to join him.
“You’re evil,” he said, trying to control himself, but failing “This way you’re going to break my heart”
“I think there are few things in this world that can break your heart.”
You would definitely be one of them, Jeonghan wanted to say, but he held his tongue in his mouth. He knew he couldn't say that, he knew that any word said wrongly could simply ruin everything he had built so far. If he could even say he built something. He liked to think so.
From the first time you spoke, Jeonghan knew there was no going back, at least for him. He had never done anything like that. He had never called someone in the middle of the night simply because he wanted to hear someone's voice. And in this case, it wasn't just someone's voice, it was your voice that he wanted to hear.
With each passing sentence, Jeonghan found himself falling more in love with you and he wasn't able to say why. Maybe he could blame it on your eyes, always so focused, but somehow when they turned to him, they seemed so sweet and sincere. Or your voice, which gave orders and asked incisive questions, but as soon as the cameras were turned off it became gentle and almost shy. Maybe it was the fact that you seemed like a lioness when you were working, never giving space for unfounded questions, but you were shy when it was just the two of you alone.
He liked this version of you, who was right in front of him, who seemed completely comfortable with him, to the point of making jokes — something that until that moment you hadn't done yet.
“We always have extra pairs in the back, I'm sure one of them is your size” he had made sure you would, with Seungkwan's help of course “And then we try it, what do you think?”
Even though you were shaking your head, you went to the closet where you knew the skates were stored.
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With your knees bent and shaking, you stepped onto the ice and immediately regretted giving in to Jeonghan's will. You didn't know how he had managed it, but in the closet, there was a brand new pair of skates, your size. Jeonghan had smiled as he bent down to tie your shoelaces,
“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” you said as you grabbed the bars.
Jeonghan held your face in his hands, your eyes fixed on his.
“I won’t let you fall”
The way the words left his lips made your heart skip a beat, or maybe several of them. You could feel it on the back of your throat and you could swear that your hands shook a little as you accepted the hand Jeonghan had extended to you. 
You wished it could just stop. Not for your heart to stop beating altogether but for it to stop reacting to Jeonghan. Everything changed after that first call and you weren’t too sure of where it was. He had, someway, somehow, become a pivotal point of you. His voice, his eyes. The way tingles started to run down through your body the moment his skin came in touch with yours. How, despite all odds, he made you feel safe in a way you weren’t too sure you had ever experienced before.
When he said that he wasn’t going to you fall, you believed him so you held his hands — strong enough that you were sure were hurting him but he didn't seem to mind — and allowed Jeonghan to pull you into the rink. 
“Don't move your feet” he said, voice ever so sweet but with a slight hint of teasing “I know it's probably hard, but let me take control here”
Forcing out all of the remaining air inside your lungs, you did as he asked. Instead of keeping your focus on the ice under your feet, you kept them in Jeonghan's face. A mistake, of course. 
His eyes were too intense if you could say that. You didn't want to understand what was happening. Perhaps for the first time since you met Jeonghan, you didn't want to understand what it could mean. You were scared. What, exactly, you weren’t sure.
“I didn’t even have to ask you to look at me,” he said and you laughed a little, automatically looking away “Keep looking at me”
The whole experience of skating for the first time, or being guided, was not being registered by your brain. All you could see, think, feel, was Jeonghan, as if he had become a central point of everything.
“I think we should stop here”
You hoped your voice was loud enough and judging by the look on Jeonghan's face, it was. The smile fell from his lips and it was as if a small light in his eyes had gone out.
You hated that you were the one causing that reaction in him, but you knew it was best to stop everything before it went too far.
"I thought that…"
“We can’t blur the lines that much” you shook your head.
You didn't know exactly who you were trying to convince, him or you. You also weren't sure you had to convince yourself of anything. It was as if your brain had split in two. One part, probably the loudest, wanted you to just let things happen. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, you weren't doing anything much really. What you did outside of your working hours and who you did it with was your problem and no one else's.
But the other part, one that spoke softly and that should have had much less strength, said it was dangerous, but also didn't offer much reason to be dangerous.
Yet somehow, that was the side you chose to listen to.
"Why?" He asked forcing his feet to the ground, making the two of you stand in the center of the rink. “What line are we blurring?”
You shook your head, hands clinging to his waist as you felt your feet begin to slide.
“I don’t know” you whispered in response “We are working”
Jeonghan leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. With a sigh, he let his forehead fall onto your shoulder and closed his eyes.
You didn't know exactly where your skepticism came from, but you were also sure it wasn't completely unfounded. But truth be told, you wanted to blur that line and any others that might appear along the way.
“Go on a date with me,” he said “If you still feel that way, there’s nothing we can do. Just don’t… don’t stop something that hasn’t even started yet”
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neil-gaiman · 7 months
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Hello Mr Gaiman, I know that a third season of Good Omens hasn't been confirmed and there is a chance it won't be, but I had a question regarding a previous response you had to someone else. You had said that you wouldn't leave the story unfinished and if the series wasn't renewed for a third season that you would complete it in a different way. My question is (assuming a third season isn't made) how would you complete the story? I think it's safe to assume you would want the actors from the show to have a part in telling the story especially because of how well they all bring the characters to life. What I'm trying to ask is would you write the 'season' into a book, have the actors voice it sort of like the full cast audiobook that was made, or have you even thought about it much at all? I also know the writers strike and such impacts the creation of the story and some things just can't be answered. I hope you are able to give a response to my questions, if you do see this. Thank you for all your engagement with the community, it must be difficult.
At this point given the writers strike I don't think there are any straightforward answers to your questions, other than an honest "I don't know."
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souliebird · 8 months
Text
[[and then i met you || ch.1]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary: A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s.
a/n: Reader is an extremely anxious person. That’s the note.
words: 5.6k
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You hope Matthew Michael Murdock is a good man. 
You tried to research him online, but you didn't find anything that could sway you one way or another.
The news articles say he's some sort of local hero - not only for being a lawyer who does a lot of pro-bono work but for saving a man from being hit by a truck when he was a kid. They all give his tragic backstory before praising him and his law partner for helping the underprivileged and going after some big shot corrupt businessman - twice. The comments are mostly from people he's helped, singing about how Nelson and Murdock saved them in their times of crisis. 
You want to trust them, but you can't.
The news also claimed Hitler was Person of the Year and deserved praise, too, and you know how that turned out. Not that you think a blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen can be compared to a genocidal leader, but your mental point to yourself still stands. 
You know nothing about Matthew Murdock except he's blind, he's a lawyer, and his dick changed your life. 
You doubt he even remembers you - a one-night stand from years ago, before his name even started appearing in the news again, and to be fair, you didn't remember him at first, either. Not until four months later when you went in to get your anxiety medication adjusted and the doctor made you take a routine pregnancy test. Then you remembered the handsome blind lawyer who flirted with you at a friend's holiday party you had gone to. You could remember the silly conversation you had about white elephant, that he had the most charming smile, and he could do things with his tongue that made you moan just thinking about, but you could not remember his name. 
You had tried to find him, you really did, but your energy and attention was quickly needed elsewhere and the search for your daughter's father lost steam.
Until you saw him on the television while at the local diner, giving an interview with his law partner. 
That was yesterday and now you are standing outside the door of his firm, trying to work up the courage to go in. 
There's too many scenarios in your head, all of them bad- he's not going to want anything to do with you and your daughter, which you can deal with, or maybe, just maybe, he'll try to take her away from you. He's a lawyer and you work in billing for a transportation company. There's no doubt who the courts would choose and it wouldn't be you. 
The thought makes you want to turn and run but you know your daughter deserves the chance to know her father - and he deserves to know she exists. It's his choice, once he knows, if he wants to be in her life or not, not yours. 
It scares you so much it's not your choice. 
You scrub at your face, trying to work up the courage to actually open the door in front of you when it does just that. 
A kind looking woman with strawberry blonde hair is standing in the doorway and you recognize her from the firm's website - Karen Page. She's the third partner in the firm and you didn't really look into her in your hunt for information. 
She offers you a smile before speaking, "You look like you're debating coming in." You shrug, unsure what to say because that is exactly what you were doing but don't want to admit it. She looks you over without it feeling judgmental before focusing on the manila envelope in your hand. She steps back slightly and gestures for you to come into the office. "You made it this far. Whatever it is, we'll do our best to help you."
The sentiment is so kind and you know she means well, thinking you are a potential client, but it just causes your throat to get even tighter. 
It has been you and your daughter for so long, is this really the right path to take? 
You hug your file to your chest and take a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until you are in the office. It's not big or fancy and you didn't expect it to be. There's a little waiting area in front of the reception desk, with another desk shoved against a wall, and on either side of the room, doors leading to what you suspect are the private offices. 
Karen goes around to the back of the reception desk and picks up a clipboard holding some paperwork and offers it out to you.
You take it and stare down at it, unsure if you would fill it out or not. When you look back up, Karen is still smiling at you and you don't want to come off as a problem, so you take a seat in the waiting area and start filling out the requested information. As you write out your address, it finally occurs to you that you have no idea how to have the conversation you need to have.
Do you ease into it or drop it on him like a bomb? You had only ever thought about finding him and never about what you would say when you did.
You should have taken more time to plan this out. You're such an idiot - you just jumped right into running towards him like you might lose track of him if you took so much as a second to think. You know his name now, who he is, you can take time to get things sorted out properly.
Would it be weird to leave in the middle of filling out paperwork you shouldn't even be bothering with?
Probably not, but you're already here. There is no point in running. 
This is for your daughter, not you. You have to keep telling yourself that.
You don't fill out the information asking about your 'case'. It honestly makes you panic a bit if you start thinking about it all in a legal sense - you know nothing about law and the man you're meeting with graduated at the top of his class from a top law school. Your hand is shaking as you add your signature to the bottom of the page and date it. Reviewing everything takes just a moment, since there's barely anything written to begin with, and your eyes drift up to the logo at the top of the page.
Nelson, Murdock, and Page.
You trace it with your finger.
Matthew Murdock has to be a good man. This firm helps people and he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to help people. He graduated top of his class; he could work anywhere he wanted to. The papers said he is good, too - they win most of their cases. 
Unless it's all a weird front to hide something like money laundering. 
But if they were money launders wouldn't they have enough money to afford an air conditioner? 
"All done?" 
Karen is in front of you, smiling politely. You are surprised by her appearance, but you don't feel pressured. It's like she's checking in so that she can break you out of your thoughts and you appreciate that. You nod and hand her the clipboard. She takes it, giving it a once over.
"Foggy will be out in just a minute."
Your head jerks up at that.
"No, I need to see Mr. Murdock."
You can tell Karen is surprised by that and her eyes narrow just a fraction. She searches your face, then she looks towards the door on the left. 
You turn your head to follow her gaze. 
"Matt!" Karen calls out.
A few moments pass before the door opens and you feel like you're going to throw up. 
The cameras don't do him justice. 
Matthew Murdock is gorgeous. He was handsome before and somehow, he just got hotter. He's a little taller than you, still as lean as you remember, and looking crisp in a gray suit - like some model walked off the catwalk and into a sweltering office. His hair is shorter than you remember it being. You have the distinct memory of being able to grab onto it, but it's too cropped to do that now.
But the thing that catches your attention the most is that in person and in the light, you can see Matthew's hair has an auburn tint to it.
Just like Minnie's. 
The realization shakes your entire world. 
This man is the father of your child. He's real. He's no longer a concept of a person, who you knew nothing about, who just existed somewhere in the world. 
You have to look away before you start to cry. You don't know where this surge of emotion is coming from - it feels like this wave of relief. This question you have always had finally has an answer. 
You tell yourself to take a breath, you know getting overly emotional isn't going to help anything. It might actually make things worse and spiraling into a meltdown is not a good first impression.
You can see Karen in your peripheral vision, and you look up to her, trying to regain your focus.
It's Matthew who speaks first, "Yes, Karen?"
"We have a walk-in who is hoping she can speak with you." 
You introduce yourself, standing up as you do. You know he is blind, so you don't offer your hand. Instead you clutch your folder to your chest. 
He doesn't seem to remember your name. He turns towards you and gives a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Matthew Murdock, but you seem to know that. I have some time right now, please come in. Karen, can you grab us some water before you join us?"
"Yeah, sure," Karen says as she turns to do just that. 
Your throat gets tight again. 
You don't want to have this conversation with someone else there. It's already going to be hard enough. You'll definitely start crying if Karen is in the room. You cannot deal with two people's reactions. The mere thought of you having to do that is making you sweat. 
Matthew's voice breaks you out of your panic. "If that is okay?"
You rush out your response, "I would prefer to speak alone, please." You're too panicked to feel embarrassment. 
Karen doesn't seem phased by this. She is still grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and offering one out to you. You take it. 
"Not a problem, let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks, Kare. Please, come this way," Matthew motions for you to follow him into the office. 
This is it.
Once you go through that door, you aren't leaving that room without telling Matthew Murdock he is a father. 
You surprise yourself by not hesitating and just charging forward into the office. 
This isn't about you or your fears. 
This is for Minnie. 
You keep your gaze forward because you can't bring yourself to look at him. If you stop and look at him before you tell him why you are here, you will just start over analyzing everything once again. You silently beg to whatever gods will listen that everything will be okay, and this man won't destroy you. 
He doesn't look like he is going to break your heart. 
But you know that looks mean nothing when it comes to pain. 
He closes the door behind you with an audible click and the weight of the moment starts to come down on your shoulders.
You take the seat in front of the desk quickly, worried your nerves might catch up with you, placing the water on the ground beside you with your purse when you sit. Matthew doesn't rush, he walks to his desk with an air of quiet confidence and if you were a client, it would be comforting, but you aren't and all it does is remind you why you fell into bed with him. 
"What brings you in today, Miss..?" He trails off, prompting you to say your name again. As he reaches his desk you watch as he trails his fingers along the edge, using it as a guide, before moving his hand to brush over the back of his seat before sitting in it. 
You chew your bottom lip, wishing you had taken a second to actually plan what you would say instead of jumping in. As far as you know, there isn't a step-by-step guide on how to tell a one-night stand that he's the father of your child - not that you actually looked into that in your desperate research the night before. 
Matthew doesn't push as you gather your thoughts. He moves some paperwork away from the center of his desk, then folds his hands there, waiting. You keep your gaze on his hands, needing something to focus your eyes on while you force the truth out.
"I saw your interview last night," you say, deciding to start there, as it seems the most relatable.
Matthew's brows knit together and he tilts his head to the side and you are one again reminded of Minnie. It's a gesture she does often, tilting her little head left and right as she tries to understand something. It always reminded you of a dog and now you wonder if it's not a learned behavior, but genetic. 
His lips turn down into a frown and his head stays cocked as he asks, "Do you have information about the Lynch case?"
Heat rushes to your cheeks - of course that would be the question to ask after bringing up the interview. The whole piece was about a specific case they were working on and how it would affect Hell's Kitchen and you hadn't paid any attention to what was said - not after you realized who was on the screen. 
You shake your head, resisting the urge to look away and you curl your fingers tighter around the manila folder in your lap. "No, I'm sorry. I saw you and…recognized you."
He straightens up and his demeanor shifts to something less…friendly. It's minute but your messed-up brain screams at you about body language - his shoulders have squared up and you can see where he's clenching his back teeth. You quickly continue on, wanting to get through with your explanation before your anxiety makes you clam up.
"We met nearly five years ago," your voice is firm and factual and you're proud of yourself for that, "at a holiday party." 
The words leave your mouth and you know he knows. Every part of him seems to go still - even his breathing seems to stop. The crease between his brow smoothes out, like he's gone from squinting to wide eyes behind his dark glasses. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your throat is getting stiff, but your voice remains steady as you push the words out.
"I think you are the father of my child."
All the color seems to leave Matthew's face and he looks nearly as gray as his suit. The reaction makes your stomach turn. He looks like he is going to throw up. 
You bite into your lip, waiting for Matthew to do or say something. All you can do is mentally chant to yourself: he's a good man, he won't take her away.
You know it's probably just seconds, but it feels like hours pass before Matthew moves.
He leans slowly back in his chair, reaching up with one hand to rub at his mouth. 
"Are you sure?"
He doesn't sound upset, at least to your ears. His words are cautious - tentative - and it makes your heart go tight in your chest. You don't know if it's fear or hope or everything crashing into you at once now that he knows.
You force out a nod before you remember that the man in front of you is blind. You find your voice and words creep out.
"I'm pretty sure," you start. Your eyes drop away from his hands back down to your lap and you have to lick at your lips to wet them before continuing, "I didn't go out much after that party, I got so busy with work. I didn't…find out until the first trimester was over. By then, I couldn't remember your name. My friends who I went to the party with didn't know you either. I tried to Google you with what information I had, but 'blind lawyer' just got me a lot of disability lawyers." You take a shaky breath, "I understand if you want a paternity test."
You know Matthew is probably taking everything in, but now that you've started talking, it's like you've lifted the dam on your anxiety. You squeeze the file in your lap - just because you hadn't known how you were going to tell Matthew the truth did not mean you hadn't extensively thought about the consequences. Words start to spill out of you.
"I also understand if you don't want anything to do with us, I get it's a big shock. I'm not looking for anything from you." Matthew drops his hand to the desk and if you didn't know better, it would look like he was staring at you. "I just wanted you to know and I thought it would be good for her to know you, but if you don't want that, I get it. All I ask is you fill out some paperwork, medical history mostly so I know if there's anything I need to look out for. I printed it out for you, it's all in braille." 
You get up just enough so that you can place the manila envelope on the desk, then sit back down. Your throat is getting so tight and stiff you feel like you're struggling to breathe. 
Matthew runs his hand over his desk until he can feel the envelope. His fingers move along the edge and you stare at them, like they are going to be the one to reveal what Matthew is thinking instead of his mouth. He finds the lip but doesn't open, instead flattening his palm against it.
"...her?"
His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. You lift your head to finally look at him and your heart skips a beat.
Matthew looks so soft. The corners of his lips twitch a few times before a smile slowly spreads across his face. 
And you know.
You know without a doubt he is your daughter's father. They have the exact same smile. You can't help but to grin as well. 
This is good, isn't it? He looks Happy. 
"I have a daughter.."
"Winifred.. Winifred Love," you offer. Matthew lifts his head and tilts it towards you, brow wrinkling slightly.
"Love…?" He asks, no judgment in his voice, only curiosity. 
You close your eyes in a bit of embarrassment, as you always do during the story, "I meant to put Grace, but I was out of it. I even put a big heart next to it on the paperwork." You aren't ashamed of the story and you love your daughter's name, but it's always a 'oops I was high' moment, even if it was done with the purest intention. 
If possible, Matthew's smile gets even bigger. 
"Winifred Love," he says, his voice dropping back down to the barely there whisper. 
"She goes by Minnie. Like, um.. Like Minnie Mouse," you say. That gets an amused yet fond chuckle. You find yourself relaxing at the noise - like some of the pressure squeezing on your lungs has been lifted and you can finally breathe. 
He repeats her nickname and you feel your lips start to turn up. 
"How old..?" His voice cracks with emotion and Matthew has to clear his throat before continuing, "how old is she?"
"Three and a half," you answer quickly, "her birthday is a few months away." You bite your lip then hesitantly add, "She wants to go to the zoo. It's all she talks about."
"Yeah?" Matthew prompts. His smile is so so soft and it makes your stomach turn in this pleasant way. However, you were expecting him to act, this is not it. In your heart, you think the best you were going for was acceptance, but this seems much more than that. There is a stinging in the corner of your eyes and you have to take your own steadying breath continuing on.
"Yeah, um.. She…likes maps right now. I got her a map to the zoo and she's got the whole day planned." Which is very much true - your coffee table has been the home of a makeshift zoo diorama for a little over a week now and the itinerary has changed about twenty times. 
 Matthew ducks his head and nods a little, taking all the information in. You squeeze your fingers in your lap, needing a way to release the nerves still buzzing inside you. 
A few moments pass before Matthew clears his throat again, "What else does she like..?"
The question makes you chuckle just a little bit, only because gushing about your daughter is something you're very good at. Since you work at home, it is just the two of you ninety percent of the time, you don't get to coo over her very often.
"She loves arts and crafts - anything she can get her little hands on. Right now she loves pipe cleaners and paper, things she can bend and fold, you know? I set her next to me while working and she'll just fold paper into little shapes. Not origami or anything, just abstract things, she doesn't plan it. She always wants to help, too, whatever I'm doing. Cooking and cleaning. She is the best helper for grocery shopping." You pause, looking over Matthew's smile for a moment before continuing on, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
 "She looks just like you," you admit, fondness clear in your voice because it is so so true. Now that you are properly looking at him, Minnie looks just like Matthew, and telling him that makes him light up even more. "You've got the same smile. The same hair. Hers is a little more red, but it's definitely from you."
You watch Matthew lick at his lips and you want to know what is going on in his head. You think everything is going well, even if you are on the verge of crying. They are tears of relief - relief you weren't told to fuck off or to go get your own lawyer. You don't fully know if Matthew Murdock is a good man, but you're over the first hurdle and the prospects are looking good. 
Matthew leans back into his chair, inhaling deeply, as if centering himself, then asks, "Why now? Why find me now?"
"Like I said, I couldn't find you, I didn't know anything about you, really, except what you looked like and you were a lawyer. I did try, I really did, but…" you trail off with a shrug, "I had a newborn."
Matthew seems to accept that answer - it is the truth after all - and continues on, "But you saw the interview... Last night?"
You nod, "I was picking up some dinner and they were playing the news at the diner. I saw it and looked you up and now…now you know."
"Now I know…" Matthew repeats slowly, his smile dropping a little and you wonder if is hitting him in different waves, like it did you - the realization he is a father. You know it is an intense roller coaster and you are not going to try to guide his ride, especially after just kind of dropping it on him. 
He taps the manila folder in front of him, the crease returning to his brow, "What is this?"
Your cheeks get hot again and you turn your gaze away from him and back to your lap, "Requests for family medical history and information about how to establish paternity, if that's what you want."
"It is," Matthew rushes out. Your head jerks up and his expression looks serious, "I want that. I want to be in her life."
He sounds so sure of himself that it makes your head spin a little. You built up in your mind he either wouldn't want anything to do with you and Minnie or he was going to try to take her away - you hadn't really considered the obvious option that Matthew would just want to be involved. At least, that is what you are hoping he is implying. 
"I won't abandon my daughter," the conviction in his voice startles you, but it also makes your heart twist but in a good way because in that moment, you believe him. "And I won't abandon you. I used to question if I had the right to bring a child into my life, but this isn't a hypothetical anymore…. And I can't.." he trails off and leans back into his chair, rubbing at his mouth again. You don't press, you have no right to when you've come out of the blue and changed his entire world. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't step away now that I know she is out there." 
You quickly shake your head at his words, "You don't need to rush into anything, I mean it, I don't want anything from you but for you to have the chance to know her. We can go slow, she's still little, you know? She can't handle a big change. Start small?"
You're more worried about how he is feeling versus what you are. You have at least prepared yourself to have a reaction - he thought he would be having a normal work day and you've given him a lot to process in the last five minutes. 
"We can go at your pace, Matthew."
He drops his hand from his face, a smile coming back to his face, "You can call me Matt."
You repeat your preferred name, then apologize, "I'm sorry for coming out of nowhere. I didn't want to lose track of you again, but I could have scheduled an appointment."
Matt shakes his head a little, "No, I get it." His hand goes back to the envelope, like touching it is grounding him like squeezing your fingers is grounding you. "I'm glad you came…I'm glad…thank you. Thank you for telling me." 
Part of you wants to reach across the desk and squeeze his hand, to give him comfort and let him know everything will be okay, but you don't dare. He's still a stranger, despite everything. You decide pushing past the emotional to the practical might be the best approach for now. You need to get your anxiety to settle now that you know your world isn't going to end and the best thing for that, in your mind, is getting an action plan. 
"I don't know what the steps are for doing this," you start, trying to think up ideas as you talk, "but I think maybe we could…get together again and plan things out? Give you time to adjust to the idea and let you think about how you want to move forward?"
Matt nods along with your words, "That sounds like a good idea." 
You bend down to grab your phone out of your purse, "I put my contact information in the packet, but could I get yours?" 
He waits until you are ready, then gives you his personal number then the office number. You do the quick song and dance of calling his phone, so that he has your number and you wait patiently as he adds you as a contact. Hearing the voice commands to navigate a phone is new to you and once he is done putting in your information, you let your curiosity get the better of you.
"Do you prefer texting or phone calls?"
"Phone calls would be preferable," Matt says as he sets his phone on his desk, having held it up to speak clearly into it, "I have text to speech but it's not always the easiest for texting." 
You nod in understanding, "Got it." You squirm in your seat, unsure of what comes next, so you say the very first thing that comes to mind. "You can call anytime. I work from home so you don't have to worry about interrupting anything…like I'm doing with you."
He hums, then asks, "What does Minnie do during the day?" 
"She stays with me, mostly. There's a daycare down the block she goes to if I need someone to watch her. That's where she is now."
That makes Matt frown just slightly and part of you panics that he disapproves. "Is it just the two of you…?"
"Yes." 
You say it with confidence. You've worked hard to get where you are alone and despite all you've been through, you are proud of that. "My parents passed when I was in college and I don't have any siblings. We've managed to do pretty well on our own. It's not the biggest, but we have a little place in Chelsea."
The little frown stays and you don't know what it means - you hope it's over you not having a big support system and not something else. Matt looks like he is going to respond but a knock at the door cuts him off. You jump at the noise, having totally forgotten there were other people in the office. 
Matt looks slightly annoyed when he calls out, "Yes?"
The door opens and the final partner for the law is there. "Pardon the intrusion," he says to you with a nod before addressing Matt, "They've got that guy from last week at the 15th. He's asking for us specifically."
Matt openly scowls before running a hand over his face, "Okay. Give me a few minutes."
Foggy nods before stepping back out and closing the door.
"I'm sorry," Matt says sheepishly.
You cut him off before he can say more, standing as you do, "Please don't be, I really did just barge in on you at work. I can call you later? Or you can call me?" 
Matt gets up as well, starting to come around the desk, "I can call you." He hesitates just a second, then ducks his chin, that little smile reappearing and your heart does that funny flip again. "Maybe we can get lunch?"
You smile back, "I would like that. We can start planning." You bite your bottom lip, then add, "I can bring Minnie…?"
Matt's entire face lights up and the awkwardness of trying to end your talk evaporates. "I would like that. A lot." He motions to his desk, "I'll work on getting that back to you. I want to…I want to do this right." 
"I do, too." 
It feels like a promise. You want to believe Matt - that he wants this and won't disappear at the first minor inconvenience. You've read so many horror stories about bad parents and you don't want any of that for Minnie. 
You grab your purse and the water Karen gave you, then finally give Matt a proper look over. 
You enjoyed your night together with him. Not only had he been a phenomenal lover, but he had made you smile and laugh. You weren't nearly as anxious then as you are now, but you had been rather nervous being flirted with by a handsome lawyer and he had made you feel at ease. Bringing him home with you had been an easy choice. 
He must sense you smiling somehow, maybe you giggled or something, but his smile, which had started to fall, brightens back up.
"Can I ask you something before you go?" 
You nod to his question, catch yourself and reply, "Of course."
"Can you tell me what she looks like?"
Guilt courses through you and biting your lip turns painful, "I'm so sorry, of course. Um, I included pictures in the packet with descriptions but, of course." His face drops into something a little nervous so you launch into the description of your daughter, emphasizing how they have the same smile because you can���t get over that. You can't help yourself and start describing some of the pictures you included.
"She has this big noise canceling headband so she can sleep comfortably - she doesn't like loud noises - but because she is three, she refuses to wear it unless it's cute. So we crochet little sleeves for it. One of the pictures is her asleep on our couch, face down, because that's how she sleeps, wearing her favorite sleeve. It's Spider-Man the-"
There's a quick series of taps on the door before it opens again.
"Buddy, we gotta go."
You start to apologize, but Matt speaks over you, his voice a little firm as his expression drops, "I'll be right there, Foggy."
A silent conversation seems to go through them, as Foggy raises his eyebrows at Matt and Matt does the same right back. Foggy steps out of the office, closing the door behind him. 
"Let me walk you out?" Matt asks, motioning to the door.
"Thank you." 
You let him open the door and you follow him into the reception office. Foggy is looking at his phone while waiting by Karen's desk as she finishes packing her laptop. You cross the room in silence as Matt leads you from the office. Once you are in the hallway, he speaks to you in a soft voice.
"Can I call you tonight?"
"Yes, please." 
"Does eight work?"
"That's perfect." 
"I'll talk to you then."
You force yourself to be the one to turn away and start walking towards the stairs. As you get to them, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to try to suppress your smile.
Maybe the papers are right and Matthew Murdock is a good man. 
You really hope he's a good father too.
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mutable-manifestation · 3 months
Text
Ghost Chirps AU Part 3
Part 1 & 2
Around half past midnight, Jason is losing his patience.
They've been searching for hours and finding a whole lot of nothing, and statistics about the odds of finding kidnapping victims and the first 72 hours.
It's been almost 48 since he saw the kid and he's cursing himself for not doing more sooner.
Cameras are finding nothing, Signal is finding nothing, everyone is finding a whole lot of nothing.
And Jason...
Jason chirps.
He doesn't know if it'll help, but it's the only idea he's got. Even if it's a shallow chance. It's all he's got; he has to try.
And if Bruce decides that Jason being meta is the line? Then he'll cope.
He won't refuse to do something just because he's scared when his- when the kid's well being is on the line.
He won't be like Bruce, who'd let his killer walk free rather than do something about it because his feelings were somehow more important when Jason died.
He won't.
The first chirp yields nothing.
He does it again pushing to try and make it as loud as possible.
Again, nothing.
Again, he chirps, something in him certain that if he just keeps going it'll work. Somehow. But he's learned to trust his gut - or weird meta instincts?
And it works.
Because after the third chirp the kid chirps back.
Except.
The kid is not in Gotham.
He is very, very not in Gotham.
He chalks it up to his weird meta-bird instincts that he somehow just knows it came from somewhere hundreds of miles that-a-way.
Kidnapping is looking more likely given just how far the kid got, but now?
Now Jason has a way to find him.
He ignores Oracle asking about mask static in favor of hopping down from the balcony he'd paused on and heading back to the batbike - Bruce's paranoia meant it would have more than enough gas to take him as far as he needed to go and then some.
'And more than enough weapons to level a block, if needed,' he thinks viciously.
"Hood!" Oracle’s sharp voice shakes him from his thoughts.
"Found the kid," he shoots back, hoping to avoid the inevitable questioning.
Mixed exclamations of relief and confusion echoed over the radio.
"How!?" Nightwing cries. "I was literally right next to you! What did I miss!?"
"What are you, deaf?" he grumbles back irritably, uncomfortable. It'd be easier if they were, he thinks. Then he wouldn't have to explain.
"Does this have something to do with the static noise your helmet was producing previously? I had worried it was damaged," Oracle asks.
"Static?" Jason echoes, not slowing a bit - nearly to the bike.
"Oh yeah!" Nightwing says, as though she's making perfect sense.
'Ah,' he thinks, 'A shred of mercy in this vastly cruel existence.'
Aloud, he just says, "Yup. He's not in Gotham anymore, though, and I don't know how far he'll end up going or how long I'll be gone. Anyone who wants to come with can catch up, because I'm leaving now."
15 seconds later he's leaping onto the batbike and peeling out.
***
Jason doesn’t chirp again until he’s nearly to Illinois. 
He wants to. He wants to chirp nonstop the moment he hears that first reply, wants to spend the whole hours-long drive listening to nothing but a litany of chirps that reassure him that his kid is alive alive alive.
He won’t risk it. 
He doesn’t know where, exactly, the kid is. Doesn’t know if his family didn’t hear him because the chirps are only audible to him and the kid or if it was really due to a helmet malfunction covering for him. 
But there is a chance that whoever has the kid can hear his chirps, so Jason won’t risk having him respond more than he absolutely has to in order to find him.
The next time, the kid answers back to the very first chirp, and Jason knows he’s heading in the right direction.
He gets turned around just once, overshooting and heaving to loop back, but he curses himself for it anyway - wasting precious time when the kid is going through who knows what.
Then he’s entering Amity Park: a nice place to live.
A nice place to die, for whoever it was that took his kid.
Several chirps later he’s in front of a school - of all things.
He doesn’t waste time doubting himself - kidnapping victims could be stashed anywhere - he storms in, batbike left idling at the base of the front steps.
Three chirps later he’s slamming through a door into a classroom. Full of kids. Taking a totally normal class - aside, of course, from Jason’s interruption.
One last exchange of chirps later and he finally lays eyes on his little shadow - who has the audacity to also look surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to lead him here in the first place.
Jason takes a moment to feel relieved, adrenaline beginning to crash before it revs back up with his indignation.
What happened to ‘goodbye!’ Who in their right mind would disappear from Gotham and not think that those left behind would assume they were kidnapped!? It’s Gotham!
Oh. Oh the child was in Gotham alone.
The child was in Gotham for a vacation.
Oh the child’s parents didn’t even realize he was gone? He’s worried about them putting him in an iron maiden!?
Jason’s eyes may be green, but oh, how his vision is red.
He barely hears the school’s alarm going off when he finally drives off-grounds, laser focused on following the road to the dot that’s popped up on his helmet just a few streets off, sending a curt thank-you to Oracle for saving him the effort of finding the kid’s address himself - she’s done him the courtesy of leaving everyone muted from his end, but he has little doubt they’ve all been listening to him. He’s only surprised she’s willing to condone the murder.
But then, of course she didn’t, he thinks as he pulls into a decently shadowed alley full of bats and birds. He’s torn between being touched that all of them came and being annoyed that he isn’t already in the process of murdering the kid’s parents. 
“New Brother?” Orphan asks the moment the bike is off, head tilting in question from her dumpster-top perch.
A second, smaller sense of outrage bubbles up next to the first, and it is a testament to his impeccable self-control that his hand only twitches over his gun at the question.
Bruce - Batman - tries to say something, but before he can finish even just the first syllable Jason’s head is snapping around to glare hell at him, and a low, animalistic growl practically rips itself from his throat.
He can see the way everyone tenses - subtle to anyone else, but a glaring neon sign in Jason’s vision. 
He curses himself for it; he asked them to be here. He specifically requested their help, and they gave it. The more of them there are involved, the faster they can help the kid into a safer environment.
But Jason came here to help the kid, not to offer him up as the next sacrifice in Batman’s long line of child soldiers.
“You wanna help? Great. Rule One: YOU,” he points at the bat for emphasis, “can’t adopt him.”
He chokes on whatever he was intending to say next at Orphan’s delighted clap and exclamation of “nephew!”
He wants to correct her, but… he doesn’t. 
Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid; Jason knows that.
He knows it more than anyone, having spent his early years there and his most recent years trying to make it better. He knows that.
But h- the kid is a meta. 
Looking at the facts: the kid is meta.
The kid is meta whose first concern with rule breaking is punishment via torture device.
The kid’s parents are neglectful enough that he spent over a week in Gotham and they never even noticed.
The kid went to Gotham to escape his home.
Whether his parents know that he is a meta or not, it is clear to Jason that the kid needs to be Out Of That House. Yesterday.
But he also knows just how metas are treated - even the MPA can only do so much against the tides of hatred and fear. 
And he’s seen the maps - he knows this state is one of the worse ones for metas to live in, let alone a meta child at the mercy of a foster family that has even odds of neglecting him, being just as bad as his original family, or possibly actually caring about him.
Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid, and Red Hood is far from the right person for such a job.
But Crime Alley isn’t all that Gotham is, and perhaps Jason Todd could very easily decide to get an apartment in a nicer area.
He won’t lie to himself, he knows he isn’t parent material, but he’ll at least be a step up from what the kid is used to while he works to vet a real family to transfer him to. 
He’s halfway through his mental checklist of the options for the safest place for an apartment and other such logistics when he’s reminded of where he is by Oracle’s voice in his ear.
“Hate to interrupt the group brooding you guys have going on over there, but I managed to dig up… a lot of information about the boy and his family situation.”
He notes how the others all perk up from where they’d been…staring at him. 
Ah, that was why it was so quiet. They were staring in disbelief when he didn’t deny the nephew thing. Well. A conversation for another time.
“Lay it on me,” he says to Oracle, ignoring them.
“His name is Daniel James Fenton, goes by Danny, high grades throughout elementary and middle school until they took a steep drop at the beginning of highschool - likely related to whatever happened when his metagene activated. 
Has one sibling, a sister named Jasmine Fenton - no middle name. She goes by Jazz. High grades across the board with no notable dips. No indication of possible metagene in any of  her records or in Danny’s, beyond the grade drop and your own first-hand experience.
Parents Jack and Madeline “Maddie” Fenton. They have their own personal website where they describe themselves as “ectobiologists” and as ghost hunters. The pictures in their gallery show a vast array of weapons - dubbed “ectoweapons” - in the same chrome-green style with the name “Fenton” stamped somewhere on them. Some of the weapons are for sale on their site, advertised for defending oneself against ghosts. There are some pictures of what must be their lab, all of which look to include at least 12 different types of OSHA violation, and the image in their site’s “about” section has the whole family standing in the lab in front of what looks like a vertical Lazarus Pit.”
“What,” Batman says more than asks, voice tense.
“And judging by the staircase seen reflecting off of one of the guns in the picture, it seems that this lab is in their basement - I can’t see why it wouldn’t be, given they were fine with putting an enormous monstrosity of a satellite on top of their building.
There are plenty of cameras in the house itself, but for some reason all I can get from them is static. Any video or audio in the house that they don’t put on their site appears to be unusable for some reason. 
All told, there is plenty of cause to get CPS involved. If their lab safety is even half as bad as it looks and it’s in their basement it’s pretty much a sure thing that the kids’ll be taken from them. 
Given the small-towny nature of the area it’ll be best to contact someone from outside of the community for the case. It’ll move things along significantly if we have somewhere to send them.
They have an aunt, Alicia Walker, but she’s already marked down as a “no” for taking them in in the event something should happen to the Fentons. 
This leaves their godfather: Vlad Masters. An incredibly reclusive billionaire, pursued the same Paranormal Science degree as the Fentons did when they were in college, but suffered an accident that put him in the hospital for two years with an unknown illness that Masters was allowed to name “ecto-acne.” Lost all contact with the Fentons until he invited them to a reunion party last fall and was named godfather three weeks later.
Masters got his wealth through a series of suspicious business deals. No one has been able to prove foul play yet, but just glancing over some of the early papers is already showing plenty of inconsistencies.
No other relatives - the Walker parents passed away some time ago, and while one of the Fentons remains, she’s in a nursing home. And also disowned Jack. And went out of her way to disown both Jazz and Danny as soon as she heard about them.”
“Great. Make Jason Todd a long lost cousin, set CPS on them. Red Hood is here because Danny ran away to Gotham and stuck his nose in crime alley so I tracked him down because I thought he was kidnapped in my territory, the Bats chased down Red Hood thinking he was gonna hurt the boy, CPS is there because your research turned up the potential unsafe living conditions and you overheard that the kid was gone for a week without anyone noticing - which scream neglect. Now we’re cooperating because we’re all annoyed at the parents that let their kid wander all the way to Gotham and convinced him that a torture device was a possible grounding option.”
He turns to Batman. 
“You can claim to have done a DNA search to find the connection, and I’m sure you can find a reason to dismiss Masters as an option. Make sure to have them call Jason as soon as possible. Oracle-”
“Already routing incoming calls through Gotham. Also, both of Masters’ residences have inaccessible cameras similar to what I’m experiencing with the Fentons. He can be dismissed under suspicion of having an OSHA nightmare in his home. I’ll see if he has his own vertical Lazarus Pit while you all work on exfiltrating the niece and nephew.”Jason doesn’t dignify that with a response, hopping back on his bike to follow the new route - this time actually to the Fenton household.
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tsukiusagi180 · 2 months
Text
Lucifer x reader x Adam
note: no order
Warning: deceptions, angst, death, English is not my mother tongue
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You (Y/n), you were an angel, not just any angel but a seraph. You were the famous (Y/n) (L/n) angel who dated the 1st man, Adam. You experience pure happiness, even if sometimes you think you were happy.
You were, until the day you found out. Being a seraph in the place you attended Charlie's advice, from the start you agreed with her, after all anyone has the right to a second chance, and especially as God says it, you must forgive. So when Adam said he was going to exterminate Charlie in a month, you and Emily didn't understand, why? They were human souls!
“Adam, don’t tell me it was your idea?”
“Honey, they are fishermen, they were lucky enough to earn their wings”
“Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”
"Of course not! I'm the first man"
“Isn’t man himself the definition of fishing?”
“Sweetheart, please stay out of this”
"Adam..."
“Please, I love you”
“I love you too, but you don’t deserve heaven”
Then you left and took refuge where you and Adam often go, to the garden of Eden. You sat under the tree resting your head on your knees while folding your wings over yourself, you just wanted to be alone.
“Hey, are you okay?”
You didn't want to answer, but this voice was unknown to you, yet you knew everyone up here. You raised your head and there you saw Lucifer. Lucifer himself, he stood there in front of you asking if everything was okay
"Not really "
“Do you want to talk about it?”
"Yes..."
"What is it about ?"
“Love problem...my partner lied to me”
“Haha I think I know it, my daughter experienced the same thing”
“But did your daughter know that she was dating an angel who killed hundreds of demons?”
“Oh...are you dating Adam?”
The only response you gave him was a sad nod, yes you were going out with him but you couldn't tolerate his actions.
"Lucifer you should hate me, why are you trying to help me by listening to me?"
“Simply because I am blinded by your beauty”
You suddenly blushed. But what you didn't know is that from afar, Emily looked at you, she was smiling because she knew it was what was best for you, Adam was only harmful, while Lucifer being the dreamer that he is, could bring you everything that Adam wouldn't.
You continued to see each other often since that day, obviously always in secret. On the day of the extermination you went down with Lute and Adam, except that once down everything didn't go as planned. Adam and Lucifer fought.
"You judge me? You are the most hated creature in creation"
“Your first wife didn’t hate everything I had to offer her.”
“Nor the second bom wawa”
“Nor the third for that matter, you know she was very disappointed in you”
Adam stopped and looked at you, you looked at her shamefully, you were ashamed, but before saying anything Lute arrived shouting
“TRAISTOR”
at you. She ripped off your wings before crashing into you. The fight is over here for you. That day you lost everything, your first husband, your forbidden love and a better life
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httpiastri · 3 months
Note
literally any driver: burying head in crook of neck, night kisses and shutting the other up with kisses
lacii my love <3<3 did this with lando, hope that's fine! merry christmas again, and i hope you enjoy this!! 😁
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"lando, did i tell you about that time when i first met my friend clara?" the words are flowing out of your mouth like you're spitting bars. your boyfriend doesn't even get a chance to answer your question before you've started talking again. "oh my god, it's a great story. you'll love it. so, i was in a french class when my other friend, sarah-"
lando is smiling subconsciously as you ramble on about your adventures, just as you have ever since he picked you up from the club. his fingers help you slip out of your heels – not that you even seem to understand what's going on, way too focused on speaking – before one of his hands lands on your waist. he takes a deep breath to keep his composure and hold back the laughter threatening to burst from his chest at your continuous gibberish, before he guides you to his bedroom with soft touches. he chuckles quietly at the way you almost take the wrong turn and end up in his kitchen, too engaged in your storytelling to remember the layout of his apartment. he isn't surprised, though, because;
alcohol always makes you blabber.
in most situations, you're not the most talkative, preferring to choose your moments to speak with great care. but when you start to get tipsy, it is like you are the world's greatest extrovert. even after getting just a little alcohol in your system, you talk to anyone with ears, somehow assuming that they're really interested in whatever you're ranting about.
thankfully, if you have your friends around, they usually drag you away by your arm, apologizing to the poor stranger to whom you've over-explained the storyline of your favorite movie.
lando learned about this side effect of your drinking early on in your relationship. on your third date, after sharing a few drinks at a local bar, you wouldn't shut up for half an hour, not giving him a second to interject with anything. he'd been surprised, but mostly confused, until he got your text message the following morning: oh my god, i did it... didn't i?
he'd tried to pretend he didn't know what you meant, wanting to put it all behind you, but you'd persisted. i didn't shut up. i never do when i drink. i'm sorry :(
lando was always one to be quick to forgive and forget, not wanting you to feel too bad. everyone does some questionable things when drunk, and he'd seen tons of people act worse than you did. but after that date, there would be uncountably many more occasions of you not being able to hold back when booze was in the picture. award shows, drinking games at home with friends, podium celebrations. once, he even found you outside a club after a race, sitting on the curb with one of your hands petting a stray dog as your other helped you explain the meaning of life. safe to say, he is used to your habits by now.
so tonight, when he picked you up from your night out with a few of your friends, he wasn't surprised that your mouth didn't shut once during the trip back to his apartment. you were excitedly telling him about the people you'd met and the drinks you'd had, so eager to explain every detail to your boyfriend when you were getting into the car that you forgot about everything around you and he had to lean across the console to put on your seatbelt for you.
most of the time, he finds your habit endearing. but sometimes, like right now, it gets just a little tiresome.
"and then, when jamie came around, she was like, what are you doing?, and i was like, i'm just having some fun!"
you're both sitting on the edge of his bed by now, after lando's helped you change into something more comfortable for the night, your mouth still running like you're one of the gilmore girls. you don't even flinch when his hands reach for your cheeks and he stares intently in your eyes – but he can't do anything other than smile.
lando loves your voice. he loves it when you're whispering something in his ear when you're out with friends, when you're ranting to him about some stupid coworker, and maybe especially when you're moaning and whining his name.
but now, he reckons you've talked enough for today. your vocal cords must be sore, and his ears are about to fall off, so it's time to call it a night – and he only sees one way to shut you up.
mid-sentence, lando leans in, pressing his lips to yours. he swallows the yelp you let out in surprise, one of his hands gliding to the back of your neck to keep you close. it doesn't take long for you to relax into the kiss, your lips moving with his while your hands reach for the neckline of his hoodie.
it's so easy to get lost in kissing lando. when he parts the kiss, you find yourself wanting to seal your lips again, already missing the feeling. your mind is now completely blank; all you can think of is the kiss. the man beside you laughs at your hazy expression, utterly amused by how you're suddenly quiet for more than five seconds (something he's sure hasn't happened yet tonight).
when you slowly open your eyes, the very content look on lando's face makes something click in your mind. he sudden kiss, his big grin...
"was i rambling again?"
the silence that follows gives you your answer, and you throw your head back as you let out a little groan. "hey, don't worry about it."
"i really didn't mean to. you know how it is, it just happens, and i don't really feel it as it happens, you know? it's just, the alcohol, it's not my intention. i actually told sarah today that-"
and for the second time, lando pulls you into him, quieting you down with his own lips. this time, as you (for the most part) understand what he's doing, you can't help but giggle into the kiss. your boyfriend matches your smile, taking your bottom lip between his teeth as a joking warning. he lets it flop back against your teeth as he pulls away to look at you again, but you've already lunged forward, head resting against his shoulder.
"i'm sorry," you start, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. "i really am."
his arms snake around your waist before he leans back against the bed, pulling you down with him and into his side. "don't be," he answers, one of his hands reaching up to the back of your head, stroking your hair. "it's cute. you're cute." you continue hiding in his skin and he makes himself more comfortable in bed, pulling the blanket over you both. "we'll talk more tomorrow, okay?"
he feels you shake your head. "i'm done talking. i've talked enough. you know those tiktok videos where you only have a certain amount of words you're allowed to say every year? that's me. i've run out of words, i used them all today."
"oh yeah, i can tell," lando chuckles, pressing his lips to the top of your head. "close your eyes, baby. tell me about those tiktok videos tomorrow."
"didn't you hear me? i said no more words. i won't talk tomorrow because-"
lando sighs. it's going to be a long night.
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unseededtoast · 3 months
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All I Know | Spencer Reid x F! Reader
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Summary: Five years after leaving Spencer Reid, it seems that fate might have given you a second chance. Inspired by "Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift/Ed Sheeran
Part two of Glimpse of Us, but can be read standalone!
Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted
wc: 6.5k
a/n: Hi everyone! It's good to be back and I hope this lives up to your expectations. This one felt different from my usual style but I think it's different in a good way. And thank you once again for being patient, I appreciate each and every one of you
You're not sure what you did to deserve this opportunity, to be reunited with the love of your life, but you choose not to question it. All you know is that you're his, and he is yours, until the end of your days. 
And that is more than you could have ever wished for.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
Nerves wake Spencer up far before his alarm even sounds. Anxiety over the "what ifs" of the day eat away at his mind, he hopes the day goes well. He hasn't had a first day at work in a long time, he had become accustomed to his life at the BAU. But his FBI days are in the rear view mirror now, a career-ending injury forced him to forge a new path in life.
And this new path he chose was becoming a professor. Sure, he had guest lectured before but he had never been a full blown professor. In preparation he reviewed his curriculum at least a hundred times to make sure it was perfect and rehearsed his first lecture.
While he should be happy and excited for a new start, he can't help but feel that it's all too bittersweet for his taste.
It had been five years since you left him. You walked out because you became unable to deal with his bustling lifestyle, and he understood. But now, here he is, forced to slow down and without you by his side. Spencer had effectively lost the two most important things in his life.
His alarm finally sounds and knocks Spencer out of his thoughts, and quickly gets ready for his first day of teaching.
- - - - -
Your pen glides across the paper in front of you quickly as you glance at the clock to see how much time you have left. Five minutes. You can do this.
After you quickly scribble your name on the card, you slide it in the envelope and rush out of your office with the card and laptop in hand. Students and faculty alike scatter through the halls, eager for the first day of classes.
You find the office you're looking for and slide the envelope under the closed door. Hopefully the new professor hadn't been in yet, you hope the card will be a nice surprise for them.
Two weeks ago at the faculty meeting it was announced a new professor was hired in your department. They wouldn't divulge a name, but you didn't think it mattered much, everyone likes a greeting card. And you hope it'll make the new professor feel right at home.
After dropping the card off you make your way to the lecture hall, excited to meet the new faces of students for the semester. Though this is only your third semester of teaching, it feels like you've been doing this a lifetime and it doesn't even feel like a job most times. You think you finally found your calling in life, and it's the first time you felt real happiness in years.
Once your lecture is over, you make your way to the break room for a much needed cup of coffee. As you sit down at one of the tables your coworker-turned-friend Jamie walks in with a smile on her face. Her first day must be going well.
"It's good to see you." You stand to hug her.
"I have a feeling this is going to be the best semester yet." Her smile is wide and bright, her enthusiasm starts rubbing off on you.
"Why's that?" You ask, sipping on your coffee as you sit back down. Jamie takes the seat across from you and leans close.
"You know the new professor they hired?" Her voice lowers so that people can't eavesdrop.
"I know they hired one but I have no idea who." You tell her the truth.
"Well whoever does the hiring around here deserves a raise. He's hot. And I mean like, hot hot." Her words pique your interest, and suddenly you wish you had stuck around to meet the man in person.
"Hmm maybe we'll have to make a habit of walking by his office." Your own smile breaks out across your face.
"Perhaps we will." The two of you laugh together and you think Jamie might just be right, this might be the best semester yet.
- - - - -
The second day of the semester went well, as did the next, and the one after that. Your students all seem to be excited for the course content, except a few, and you're excited to see the projects they come up with. 
With a smile on your face from a successful lecture full of intellectual conversation, you retire to the break room for a little bit, before your next lecture. The air outside is getting quite cold and so you settle for a warm tea today.
However, your peace doesn't last long as Jamie walks in minutes later. She takes a seat across from you and sets her laptop down on the table.
"What do you have there?" She asks, gesturing to your cup. You look down at the tea that still has steam rising from it.
"Oh, just some tea." You answer and venture to take a sip that burns your tongue.
"It's a good day for it too." She says as she rises from her seat to grab a cup as well.
When she returns the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. Jamie works on her notes while you enjoy the peace. You don't even look to see who entered the room when the door opens.
But, Jamie's not-so-subtle kick under the table gives you a clue as to who it might be. She's been pestering you all week about finding the new professor, and you're willing to bet he just walked in.
Casually, you look over and see a tall, slim man pouring a cup of coffee. His hair is long, down to his shoulders, and you watch as he pours sugar into the cup; an ungodly amount of sugar. Your stomach twists nervously as the man's silhouette and coffee order seems all too familiar. 
Unable to tear your gaze away, you watch as the man finally turns around and meets your eyes. And it's like the world has stopped spinning, your heart has stopped pumping, and you can no longer remember how to breathe.
Spencer Reid is standing ten feet away from you.
His forest-colored eyes are just as beautiful as you remember. Gold tones still as soft as honey, green hues reminiscent of fresh spring grass. And it catapults you to the first moment you met him.
It was a nice, sunny day and you had decided to go to the park to finish your book. You had been inside for far too long and it would have been a waste to not enjoy such a lovely day. And to take full advantage of it you wore your favorite sundress.
You had picked a spot on a bench that was partially shaded from the sun and you enjoyed the sounds of nature as you turned each page. That was until someone stood in front of you and blocked your light. You closed the cover of your book and looked up to the handsome man in front of you.
"Hi, I'm Spencer and I um, I just thought I'd come and introduce myself." You hear the nerves in his voice and see them in the way he scratches as the back of his neck.
"Hi Spencer, it's nice to meet you." You smiled up at him.
You had always thought it was endearing how nervous he was to make a good impression and you've never been able to forget the fullness your heart felt that day. But then your mind plays a cruel joke, and suddenly your head is filled with the moment you left him.
No matter how hard you try to forget, you will always remember the tears running down his cheeks and the way his voice cracked as he begged you to stay. It took every ounce of strength you had to follow through with your plan.
Every now and then you think long and hard about if you had made the right decision. You still hold a deep love for Spencer, but with the lifestyle he was living and the future you wanted, eventually the two of you would have drove each other to madness one way or another. It was in the best interest of both of you to separate, or at least that's what you had convinced yourself of.
Jamie clears her throat and you're swiftly brought back to reality. She looks between them two of you, both frozen in place like statues. Now that you look at him, really look, you see how much he's changed and how much he's stayed the same.
His hair is longer, he's filled out just slightly more, his fashion sense is relatively the same and he still has kind eyes. He's still your Spencer, the one you left all those years ago.
"I can't, I have to, I have to go." You clumsily stand from your spot and rush out of the door.
Your chest begins feeling heavy and tight, your palms sweat and your heart races. Getting to your office is your only priority. Shaking fingertips grasp the edge of the solid wood desk, your eyes squeeze shut and all you can hear is your thumping heartbeat. 
"Hey, are you okay?" Jamie's voice sounds muffled to you, and you pay her no mind. Your only focus right now is to breathe again. 
Minutes could've passed by, or even hours, before you finally feel your senses coming back to you. Your muscles ache from the tension, and you open your eyes to find Jamie standing right next to you, her hand resting on your shoulder. Blinking a few times, you try to remain calm as the nerves tangle your inside. 
"Hey." Jamie speaks softly. Glancing at the clock on the wall behind her, only five minutes passed. 
"Sorry about that." You stand up straight and try to regain your normal composure. 
"What happened?" There isn't a trace of judgment to be found in her voice, just concern and curiosity. With a sigh, you sit on the edge of your desk and cross your arms, unable to meet her gaze. 
"That was Spencer." You plainly tell her, knowing she will understand. 
Over the course of the past year, you and Jamie had grown quite close. The two of you swapped stories of your pasts; you know about her exes and she knows of yours. At first, you had worried she might judge you for breaking off an engagement over a man you willingly left, but instead of judgment, she met you with understanding. And you were ever so grateful for that. 
"Oh." Her tone is heavy, and all you can do is nod your head.
How are you supposed to continue working here when he shares the same halls? And had he known that you were here? Surely he recognized your name on the card. He had to have known. And yet he never sought you out once. Your mind wrestles with why that may be. Perhaps he didn't want to see you after you broke his heart, maybe he had looked for you but you were out of office. A million different scenarios fill your mind at once.
- - - - -
A week passes without seeing Spencer again. Physically, of course, but you saw him plenty in your dreams. You had been free from dreaming of Spencer Reid for about seven months now, until a week ago and now he's all you can dream about. 
While you sleep you're met with different scenes, each of them about how your life might've looked like if you had stayed. Some scenes are sweet and tranquil, while others are full of fighting and misery. And you aren't sure which ones are worse. 
One night you had felt particularly curious and you found yourself looking at his Instagram again. You navigated to the pictures he's been tagged in and noticed all the ones you had seen previously are no longer posted. A quick trip to the woman's profile shows that she is with a new man now, and there's no trace of Spencer left on her account. From the looks of it, Spencer never got into another relationship after her. 
A part of you is relieved he hasn't moved on. For if he moved on a second time, it would have solidified to you that he truly has moved on. After all, you were never able to move on after you broke off the engagement with your last boyfriend. 
Getting back together with Spencer never seemed like a viable option until now. Now he no longer lives on the fly, there's no risk of him getting called away for weeks on end. No, his schedule is normal now, a solid, unchanging schedule, one that allows for personal time. This idea had been blossoming in your mind for a few days now, after you had been able to process that he works at the same university. 
Now, even while you're awake you daydream about being back together with him. In your mind, he's able to be home every evening now, he's able to be there for holidays and birthdays. There would be no more occasions spent alone. The thought of that warms your heart, but it's always quickly refuted by a tiny voice in the back of your mind. Why would he want you back after all? You had walked out on him and broke his heart, there's no reason why he would desire to have you back.
And so you live partially in sadness and partially in happiness, feelings changing on a whim depending on which thought intrudes into the forefront of your mind. You can tell others are noticing how you've withdrawn, but thankfully they haven't said anything yet. Even Jamie has been giving you more space than normal. You feel bad for distancing yourself, and promise yourself that you will try harder to get back to normal. 
Normalcy is what you're hoping for tonight. It's the university's annual holiday dinner, hosted at a local five star hotel and catered by a Michelin star restaurant, you wouldn't miss it for anything. Jamie had texted you earlier asking if you wanted to carpool and when you check your phone you see that you only have fifteen minutes left before she's going to be here. 
The dress code is black tie formal, and you enjoy getting dressed up, you don't get to do it often. For tonight you had decided on something simple, yet elegant. The floor length dress hugs your body just right, and the heels sparkle tastefully with every step you take. Finalizing your look, you put on a pair of earrings that catches the light beautifully. Before you go to wait for Jamie, you take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. And for the first time in a long time, you feel content with how you look, excited for the night to come. 
"There are more people here than there were last year." You say to Jamie as you two wait to be seated. There's easily double the amount of people here, word must have got out about how good the food is. 
"Tell me about it." She looks around at the other faculty members who are also dressed to the nines. 
"Ladies, if you are willing, we have a group table that is ready to be sat." A posh waiter interrupts your conversation politely. Jamie and you look to each other and shrug. 
"That's fine with me." You confirm, and Jamie nods her head. The waiter smiles, 
"Right this way." He leads you through the hotel's reception room, lights dim with a string quartet playing in the background. As you pass by the musicians, you can't help but wonder how much money the university allocates to this night, and if it could perhaps be better spent. But that thought doesn't last long once the fresh bread basket is placed in front of you. 
"So good." Jamie says through mouthfuls of warm, toasted bread. All you can do is nod in agreement, enjoying how the butter and bread compliment each other well. 
Other faculty members begin being sat at the table with you, and you greet them all though you haven't a clue who they are. Everyone at the table gets swept away in their own conversations, so much so that you don't even realize who they had sat right next to Jamie, and you probably wouldn't have noticed for a while if Jamie's body language didn't give away that something was wrong. 
Your eyebrows crease at the sudden tension in her shoulders, the tightening of her jaw. Her eyes grow wider just slightly, as if she's trying to communicate something telepathically. Your eyes sweep to the right and find nothing out of the ordinary, but once they move to the left you realize that what was supposed to be a good night, might end up being a terrible one after all. Of course the universe would have fated that Spencer get sat at this table as well. 
You avert your gaze from him quickly, feeling your face flush red. If it wouldn't be considered rude, you would get up from this table right now and go back home. But you know Jamie has been looking forward to this dinner all year and you don't want to let her down because of your personal problems. If you just keep your focus on Jamie, maybe tonight will be more bearable. 
Keeping your eyes off of Spencer is easier said than done you come to find. As if it's a habit, you find yourself stealing glances at him. He's decided on a nicely tailored suit for tonight, and the warm lighting compliments the golden hues in his eyes. And it's because he looks so good that you can only half pay attention to the words coming out of Jamie's mouth for the rest of the night. 
The table's food arrives and your one glass of wine turns to two, which turns into three. Jamie has had more than you, and has used her newfound confidence to go mingle with the other faculty in the open part of the room. Typically, after the dinner, the floor opens for dancing and socialization, neither of which you feel like doing now. Slowly, but surely, the others at the table leave to go mingle as well, leaving only you and Spencer at the table together. With this realization, you finish off your third glass of the night and wonder where to get your fourth. 
Just as you're about to get up and track a waiter down, you hear Spencer clear his throat. Like a deer caught in headlights, you look at him with wide eyes. He's already looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Something makes you sit back down though you know you should be running the other way. Seconds tick by like hours, you watch with intent eyes how he licks his lips, a nervous habit he's always had. And finally, he breaks the silence. 
"Hello."
- - - - - 
Spencer had never been one for fancy outings, especially outside of work hours, but tonight he is happy to make an exception. Ever since he saw you in the break room you're all that he can think about; more so than usual. 
Over the years he had kept light tabs on you, asking Penelope every few months how you were doing and if you were still in the area. All she ever said was that you're doing well and you're still around. And that was enough for Spencer, he could live with that vagueness. Until he set eyes on you again. Now, you consume his thoughts every second of every day. 
He had never stopped missing you, loving you. No, he still searched for things that reminded him of you. The blankets you had picked out all those years ago are still draped over his couch. And now there's a shred of hope blossoming within him that his apartment may be your shared space once more. 
The only issue is that he's not even sure you want him back. He doesn't know if you're seeing somebody else, or if you even want a relationship at all; especially with him. After all, you had left for good reason so why would you want to come back?
The pessimism and optimism wrestle in his mind as he finishes tying his tie in the mirror. Spencer hadn't been working at the university long enough to have any real acquaintances or friends, and usually that would stress him out. But tonight, all he's focused on is you. 
He wants to see who you show up with and get a gauge of your feelings towards him. Spencer is still fairly confident he can read your body language. And he promises to himself that if you show up with a man, or act disinterested, that he will leave you alone and look for another job. After all, you were there first and he doesn't want you to feel suffocated in your place of work. Plus, he knows he wouldn't be able to share the halls with you without speaking to you. The wound would never heal, but then again, he's had five years to heal it yet it remains open.
Spencer hands the valet his car keys as he walks inside the high-end dinner. The lights are moody and it feels like something straight out of a movie. He joins the line to be seated, and there he spots you for the first time, looking around and talking to Jamie. 
On his first day Jamie had found her way to his office to introduce herself. She taught in the humanities department and was friendly enough, Spencer liked her, he thought she may prove to be a helpful friend to have around. His nerves were still at an all time high as she explained who had offices in this hall as well, and his interest piqued when she mentioned your name. He contained his surprise and thanked Jamie for coming by. Once he opened the card that was left on the floor of his office, it was glaringly obvious you had no idea he was the new guy, for you had signed the card,
"We're so glad to have you here, can't wait to meet you! Welcome to the team!" Followed by your signature. He would recognize that signature anywhere. He remembers seeing it scrawled across sticky notes you used to leave in his bag, ones he would find while he was out working a case. He always looked forward to finding those notes, it was like having a piece of you there with him. And if he's honest, they still reside in an interior pocket of his bag, he could never find the resolve to get rid of them. 
He watches as you and Jamie get seated, and he feels nerves creep up his spine. What if this all ends badly? He doesn't want you to run out of the even like you did the break room, no, that was the last thing he wanted to happen. All he wants is to gauge your reaction when you notice him, that's all. That will be enough for him to make his decision.
After a few long minutes had passed, he was finally being seated. While he followed the host he scanned the room for you but failed to see you amongst the sea of people. Surely you were here somewhere. Thanking the host as he took his seat, he took a deep breath and became acquainted with his surroundings. This was a large group table, there are likely others to be seated around him, so maybe he will make some new friends after all. 
He's just about to open the menu when he catches the glimmer of jewelry out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he sees that it's you sitting just across from him. He's been sat beside Jamie, and he can tell from their stiff posture that they've both noticed him. 
Averting his gaze quickly, he tries to think of how to handle the situation but comes up with no good answers. So he settles on just trying to make it through the dinner and to get a decent read of your body language without you noticing him looking at you. 
All of which is easier said than done. Every time he goes to sneak a glance at you, it seems that your eyes are already on him. He doesn't miss the way your drinking increases or how you fidget with the necklace resting on your chest. 
The night passes unbearably slowly until it seems like it's coming to an abrupt end. Jamie leaves the table to talk to other friends, leaving just you and Spencer alone at the table. Unable to keep his eyes off of you any longer, he glances over and sees you finish off your third glass of wine for the night. And judging by the way your eyes dance across the people in the room, you're on the hunt for another, likely because his presence has unnerved you. 
You go to stand from your seat when something inexplicable happens. Before Spencer can comprehend why he's doing this, the word just tumbles out of his mouth, just a simple, 
"Hello."
The word seems to have made you sit back down, and he quickly assess that as being receptive to what he has to say. You clear your throat, buying yourself some time before answering. 
"Hi." Your voice is airy and like music to Spencer's ears. How he's missed hearing your voice. 
The shred of hope within him grows, and he only hopes this conversation goes well.
- - - - - 
The two of you are unable to break each other's gaze. Your eyes stare into his with intensity and your heart pounds in your chest. For a second you're worried you might have a heart attack because of the quick pace.
"You look lovely tonight." Spencer tells you, a ghost of a smile teasing the edge of his lips. You glance down at your dress.
"Thank you, you clean up pretty well too." You tell him the truth.
You're not sure where this is going to go, you feel as if you're treading in dangerous waters and you're not sure if you're going to be rescued or swallowed up. Spencer glances down at the tablecloth and smiles softly. 
"Thank you." He says, looking back up into your eyes. 
The two of you fall into a silence and you're not quite sure what to do from here. There's so much that's left unsaid but you don't know if you have the nerve to say any of it. But after a few minutes pass without anything, you rise from the table, unable to be so close yet so far from him. 
"Goodnight, I hope you enjoy the rest of the dinner." You keep your exit friendly and turn to go stand on the curb and wait for an Uber. You don't want to end Jamie's fun, you'll just send her a text that you caught a ride home. 
The night air is chilly and it sends a shiver up your spine so you wrap your arms around yourself. You unlock your phone and are just about to request a ride when you hear footsteps coming from behind. Looking to your right you see Spencer, lips parted and eyes scanning your face. 
"I can take you home, if you want of course. I drove here and it wouldn't be a problem at all. I was probably going to head out soon anyways." His words are rushed and slightly jumbled, but send butterflies straight to your stomach. 
"That would be nice." You accept his offer, feeling the familiar tingle of nerves engulfing your body. He nods and smiles before offering you his arm to take. 
Hesitantly, you reach out and loop your arm with his. He's warm and oh so familiar. The two of you walk in stride together, and you take a shaky breath to keep your emotions in check. A gentle breeze carries the scent of his cologne into your nose and it transports you back to a time you reminisce about frequently. 
You look up at Spencer as you walk, noticing how much more grown up he looks now. Stubble lines his jaw more noticeably, his arms feel sturdier, the smile lines by his eyes more prominent, but still the most beautiful man you've ever laid eyes on. 
Feeling your gaze on him, he looks down at you and smiles kindly. Your eyes burn and you look forward, seeing his car only a few rows back. It almost doesn't feel real. 
Spencer opens the door for you and you sit in the passenger seat. Before he gets in, you pinch your leg harshly, reminding yourself that this is very much real and is actually happening. Suddenly your palms feel sweaty and your throat feels tighter. The sound of Spencer closing his door snaps you out of it. 
Without asking for directions, Spencer drives off into the night. The streetlights offer a warm glow as he passes street after street. You pick at the edges of your nails as he drives, not feeling confident enough to say anything, you honestly don't even know what to say. And you're so distracted you don't even realize where he's taken you until he turns the car off. Looking out the window, you see his apartment building.
"If you want, I'd like for you to come inside for a little bit. If not, just tell me where you want me to take you." His voice wavers with nerves. The car is dark, but you're close enough to see him. Nodding your head, you reach for the doorhandle. 
"I can come in." Your voice is like a whisper.
You follow Spencer up the stairs to his apartment, and you take it all in. You never thought you'd see this place again. Stepping inside, you see that not a lot has changed. There are some new pictures on the walls and there's an entirely new bookcase in the living room, but it's almost just as you left it. A moment frozen in time. 
Spencer drops his keys on the counter and hangs his coat on the rack beside the door. You take a deep breath as you realize the last time you two were here together, he was pleading with you not to leave. 
"Would you like any water?" He asks and you shake your head, 
"No, I'm okay, thank you though." You decline and watch as he loosens the tie around his neck. 
"I didn't know you pursued teaching." He ignites the conversation again and tries to make it all seem more casual by rearranging things that clutter the dining table. 
"Yeah, I started about a year ago." 
"Do you like it?" He asks, pausing his rearranging to give you his undivided attention. 
"I do. Well, so far at least. Each semester its like the courses become richer with content and I just love seeing the passion some of them have. It's inspiring. Why'd you start teaching?" You open up a little in an attempt to shake the tension that hangs in the air between you. Spencer chews on his lip before answering.
"We were working a case and I got shot in the knee, and it ruptured some tendons. And my choices were to either work strictly behind a desk or pursue something else." At the mention of him being shot, you eyes widen and your jaw falls slack. 
"You got shot?" An all too familiar feeling of anxiety shoots through you and you remember how many nights you stayed awake contemplating that very thing happening.
"I did, but as you can see it wasn't fatal." He cracks a small smile, but all you can think of is how easily he could've been taken from this world. 
"Well I'm glad it wasn't." You truthfully tell him. A life without Spencer in it is quite miserable, but living in a world without Spencer would be like swimming in a lake of fire; torturous and inconceivable. 
"Me too. But it forced me to put things into perspective, to slow down and enjoy what life has to offer." You're not sure if his choice of words is intentional, or what exactly he means by telling you this. But there's a small, optimistic part of you that can only imagine why he's saying these things. 
"I'm sure it's not an easy adjustment." You elect to skirt around the question you want to ask, not knowing if you're just being foolishly hopeful or not. Spencer nods and motions to the living room, 
"Would you like to sit down?" He asks, looking down at the heels you're wearing. 
"That would be nice." You say and sit down on the leather couch, where you always used to sit. It almost feels like the couch remembers you. And your eyes catch the blanket draped over the back, you remember it well as you have the other one still. 
Spencer sits next to you, the two of you close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. It takes everything within you to not just lean into him and act like nothing ever happened. You miss him so much, you miss his touch, you miss his kisses, you miss his love. 
"How have you been?" The question feels out of place, but you're not exactly sure of what would feel right. Meeting his eyes again, you tell him the truth. 
"There have been a lot of ups and downs. Long story short I pursued a new career, as you've found out, moved two different times, visited Europe, and then I was engaged but broke it off." Your voice dies at the end, still feeling guilty over breaking yet another heart with the failed engagement. 
"Engaged?" Spencer's voice is tight and filled with worry. 
"I was, but I couldn't follow through with it." You tell him. Though you're not sure why you're spilling everything, but it just feels like the right thing to do. 
"Why not?" He asks, his eyes dancing between your eyes, your hands, and your lips. You shrug, 
"He just wasn't the right one. But how have you been?" You ask, already knowing about one girlfriend he had. Spencer's eyebrows raise,
"Well, I stayed with the FBI up until just recently, I made some friends and lost some, and I had a girlfriend, but that didn't end well either." He says though you're sure he's summarizing dramatically, as you had also done.
"Oh. Well I'm sorry about the FBI and about your, your girlfriend." The word is almost impossible for you to say, but you force yourself to. 
"Don't be sorry. I guess she just wasn't the right one." He whispers as his eyes finally land on your again. 
Your lips fall slack and you can't help but look between his eyes and lips, remembering what they felt like over every square inch of your body. And it's as if Spencer has his own gravitational pull, but you find yourself leaning further and further towards him until his hand lands on top of yours. 
His larger hand completely engulfs yours, and you look down to see him holding your hand with such gentleness. The feeling of his skin on yours is almost enough to bring you to tears. Five years you had spent trying to remember what he felt like, yearning to have him in front of you, to be able to see him, hear him, smell him, have him again. 
By the time you look back up from your hands, his other had already come up to your face to cradle your jaw. Your lips meet his tenderly, softly, as if you were both afraid the other would jump away. 
But instead, it's like you melt into each other. With your free hand, you grip the front of his shirt and pull him closer. Your lips fall into a long forgotten rhythm as if no time had passed. His lips as soft against yours and you feel his hand let go of your own and wrap around your waist. Pressed against one another, you wish this moment would never end. 
Your lungs burn for oxygen, so you pull away from Spencer's kiss and rest your forehead against his. You keep hold of him, afraid that if you let go that you'll wake up from some kind of cruel dream. With closed eyes, you take it all in, it's so much more than you could've ever dreamed of. 
"I've missed you every day for the last five years. And I am so sorry that I drove you away." Spencer's voice wavers. Leaning away from him, you hold his head in your hands, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. There are tears in his waterline, and the tremble in his lower lip makes your own eyes water. 
"Spencer, oh Spencer." You say as tears fall from your eyes and down your cheeks. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him. You rest your head against his shoulder and the two of you cling to each other as you cry. 
"I have spent every single day missing you and loving you. And I'm sorry I walked away." You say as another round of tears fall down your face, landing on his shirt. Instead of answering, he just holds you tighter, and whatever you don't express in words is made clear in the way you two meld together. 
"I love you so much." He eventually says, letting you adjust in his grasp. 
"I love you, Spencer Reid." You tell him, knowing that it's the full and honest truth. 
You're not sure what you did to deserve this opportunity, to be reunited with the love of your life, but you choose not to question it. Instead, you kiss him again and know that this time you're not going to let him go. All you know is that you're his, and he is yours, until the end of your days. 
And that is more than you could have ever wished for.
- - - - - 
Three months after being reunited, you and Spencer had fallen into a comfortable routine. You had moved back in after the two of you had a long discussion about what the future of your relationship means to the two of you. Both of you agreed that nothing on this planet was worth jeopardizing the relationship, not after the most agonizing five years without each other. 
You're beyond happy that you finally get to come home with him every day, that he's able to be here for holidays and everything in between. The two of you do your best to make up for lost time, you relish every moment you get with him, no matter how small or insignificant that time may be. 
Everything had changed in the five years that you spent apart, and you both had grown up in several ways. Not drastically, but enough that you needed to get to know one another again. Date nights are spent talking about newfound interests and what has remained the same. Nothing feels strained or forced anymore, it's all tranquil and full of love. 
One night, after you had gone to bed early, Spencer finds himself sitting at the dining table with a velvet box in his hands. He opens it and looks over the ring he had bought over five years ago. And now he knows that it will finally reside on the hand it was meant for. With a smile on his lips, he slides the box into his suit pocket for the date he planned for tomorrow. 
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AITA for telling my best friend I'm in love with her mother?
I (18m) have been friends with this girl (I'll call her S for this, 18f) forever. I can’t remember a time when we weren't friends. We've always spent a lot of time at each other's houses, though more at hers as her family is wealthy and has a really nice place with an in-ground pool... and also her mom just makes the best snacks lol
Her mom and I have always had a good rapport. She's a funny lady, charismatic, kind, and did I mention the bomb-ass snacks? I had a sort of a puppy love crush on her as a kid, but as we've gotten older the feelings have only gotten stronger. Meanwhile, S has had a crush on me since middle school. She isn't subtle, but she hasn't confessed and I haven't brought it up because I'm not interested and I don't want to hurt her or lose her as a friend. S has caught me checking her mom out a few times, one time even walking in on me in the bathroom while I was trying to lowkey check out her mom in the pool through the window. I don’t think she ever put together what was going on, though.
I never planned on acting on my feelings for her mom, but since her dad took off, I'm pretty sure I've been getting flirty vibes from S's mom? I might be seeing what I want to see instead of what's there, but like... Okay, so, this summer she's been paying me to do some of the housework her husband used to take on. Mowing the lawn and stuff. And S's mom will come out with just a towel on to tell me I missed a spot. To me, that seems flirty.
I never thought I'd have a chance, but now that it seems I might, I kind of wanna go for it? I mean, I'm 18 now, so it's legal, so I don't see why it would be a problem? But I didn't want to shoot my shot while S is entirely in the dark, so I sat her down and explained. We were hanging out around her pool and her mom wasn't home, I figured it was a good time. I started by finally acknowledging her feelings but gently telling her she just wasn't the girl for me. Then I said straight up "I'm in love with your mom."
S just kinda stared at me? Then she just said "dude, what the fuck" and yeah. Yeah, I know, what the fuck, but the heart wants what it wants, right? I said that I was pretty sure her mom had been making moves since S's dad left. I've never heard S laugh the way she did at that, it was kind of scary. She asked if I was serious and then told me I need serious help. I was a bit hurt by that but I know I'm asking a lot so I didn't go off about it. I just said yes I'm serious and wanted her blessing to act on it. She didn't say anything. She just got up and left, and pushed me into the pool as she passed.
She wouldn't talk to me except to tell me to go home and it's been weeks now but she won't answer my texts. I think I've just lost the two most important women in my life (don't tell my mom she's third pls.) Am I the asshole here? I know it might be wrong, but I can’t help it if I'm in love with Stacy's mom. :(
What are these acronyms?
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