#and it's caused him nothing but shit. To have a being that's supposed to fix cosmic errors show up to him-

[altarplay]

i guess it's good to have confirmation that our best is everyone's elses mediocre. lack of effort. doesn't care enough. etc.

[rivilu]

Putting him in the blender is no longer enough I need to-

[underratedbreadcrust]

Chance Equals Fortune — Prologue

Squid Game | The Salesman x F!Reader

Summary: parasites. that is the only thing he thinks of when he meets the players he is meant to recruit. but what happens when he meets you and you are nothing of what he expects.

an au where the salesman lives and becomes a player.

Warnings: swearing and classist thinking. in the future there will probably be canon-typical violence and i'm still debating on smut.

a/n: happy new years! i'm sorry i couldn't upload this earlier i had to deal with some long distant relatives. however, due to popular demand here is the gong yoo fic as promised. this was originally supposed to be under 1k words...

Words: 2.1k

next part>>

Click. Click. Click

Those are the sounds of pristine perfectly polished black shoes on concrete. The soles of the shoes worn by a handsome-looking businessman echoed loudly, causing the sounds to reverberate into the jet-black sky. As he walked beneath the faint luminescence of street lights, case in hand and his head held high, his eyes searched for the next prey to fall victim to his silver tongue. The same mouth that twisted dark truths into sweet promises others couldn't dare reject. Never once has his articulate way of speaking failed to deliver the precise words necessary to provide his superiors with a new batch of fresh meat to satisfy their sadistic tendencies. To him, it was all the same. One less piece of vermin in the world, and more importantly, one less leech to drain the well-oiled machine that is society.

Today was no different as he strolled along the sidewalk of a small park near the outskirts of Seoul. While he walked, he felt indifferent towards the small details, like the light breeze swaying the tree branches above or the faint smell of dog shit wafting through the air. Having trained himself to ignore anything and everything that could be a possible distraction from his mission. What was his mission again? Ah yes, currently that would be you.

His steps immediately halted as he spotted your figure in the distance, a dark shadow looming over a bed of flowers and a trail of smoke emitting from the cigarette between your fingers. There you are. He squared his shoulders as he fixed his expression into one of casual ease. Now, all he had left to do was to convince you all of the problems that have stemmed from your pathetic life could be solved in the blink of an eye. That your worries could dissolve as quickly as skin in acid.

He began to move again, taking long strides to where you were standing. In the time he took to reach you, he jotted some quick mental notes.

One. Your relaxed stance oozed confidence and uninterest despite being a young lady positioned in one of the most crime-infested spots of the city in the dead of night. Meaning you either had a weapon on you or had sufficient defense skills, possibly both. He must tread carefully.

Two. You were positioned next to a tall fountain, atop stood a small marble figure of a gumiho. The spot infamously known for the shady transactions dealing with drugs and other nefarious crimes. Perhaps you were waiting for someone? He'd have to keep an eye out for any newcomers that could interrupt his process.

Three. Your mouth was...moving?

His steps faltered. There was no other person around within a 3-mile radius whom you could be conversing with, nor did you have a phone in hand. How odd. In his time as a recruiter, he has encountered all kinds of people. Drug addicts, the mentally ill, and one memorable case a delirious man on the brink of death, hallucinating from hunger. You, however, seemed perfectly sane. Keyword…seemed. He shook his head, quickly putting a halt to his thoughts. He had no time to ponder over whatever weird traits you may have, he came here to do one job. He resumed his trek towards you and was soon standing mere feet from you.

Show time.

“Excuse me miss, may I have a minute of your time?”

You remain standing still, making no indication that you had noticed him. Your eyes were distant while you continued to murmur but no sound came out. He wasn’t sure if you were ignoring him or if you really were that unaware of your surroundings. Now that won’t do.

“Miss?” He tried again tentatively, his head tilting curiously as he stepped in your line of sight. “Are you alright?”

Finally, your eyes shifted into focus, taking a moment to adjust. For a brief moment, it appeared as if you were lost. However, that moment soon passed and your eyes narrowed, annoyance filling your features.

“Why did you interrupt me?”

The bite in your tone was enough to make him raise an eyebrow. Perhaps you really weren’t in the right state of mind after all. “Interrupt?”

You scoffed, ignoring the question you brought the cigarette back to your lips. Taking in a long drag before you released the smoke right in his face. His mouth turned downward in displeasure.

“Do you need something?” You snapped, your jaw clenching as you slid your free hand in your pocket. He caught the way your finger twitched as you did so. Weapon it is then.

His face instantly changed back to that previous pleasant expression, his lips curving into a kind smile though with a lack of warmth in his eyes. Instead replaced by an empty, clinical look.

”I don’t mean to be a bother ma’am, but I’m here to offer you a proposal you’re sure to like,” he states in a neutral tone, having uttered a variation of those words dozens of times. “A way to better improve your current economic situation.”

Your body tenses as your eyes dart over his figure eyeing the suitcase, no doubt analyzing him as a threat. “Look I already said I’d pay him back!” He watches as you chuck the cigarette to the ground and stomp on it. “If he keeps rushing me like this then don’t expect to get a single won out of me! I don’t give a shit who he is!” Your volume rises as you take a step back, ready to sprint if needed.

He raises his arm in surrender. “That’s not what I’m here for. As I’ve stated, I only want to help.” His mind is conjuring up the best way to ease the tension.

He hesitantly takes a step forward.

Your eyes immediately look back down. “What’s in the case?”

Another step.

“I work for a group of people whose only interest is to help those who are struggling. Our objective being to ease the burden of the majority.” He swiftly places the case at the base of the fountain, unlocking the latch but leaving it closed. “See for yourself.”

You were the one to take the final step, closing the gap between the two of you. You gave him one more skeptical look before you focused all of your attention on what was in front of you. Slowly, both hands reached out and flipped the top wide open. Your eyes widened as you took in the contents of what was inside, or more specifically, the big wads of cash.

You remained silent, frozen as a statue as you simply stared. In an instant, you whipped your head in his direction. You took the time to study him, your mouth slightly agape and a certain look in your eye he couldn't quite place. A couple of seconds passed, you clamped your mouth shut and swallowed thickly, licking your lips before you finally managed to whisper, "What do you want?"

His mouth quirked upward in a smirk. Got you. "I'd like to play a game."

You belted out a high-pitched, contorted laugh. A childlike glee completely overcoming you. "Ab-so-fucking-lutely," you grinned from ear to ear, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

It dawned on him what that look in your gaze was...

Unstable.

A jolt of thrill shoots down his spine. "I'm sure you're familiar with the game ddakji," he reaches until he grabs the two colorful squares, carefully placing the red one on the ground, "for every time your square manages to flip mine, I will pay you 100,000 won."

You nod enthusiastically, your hand shooting out as he draws his hand in at the same time. "However, if you lose...you must pay me back the same amount."

You snatched the piece from him. “Deal.” You don't waste a single moment in hurling it, the force of the impact causing the sound to ricochet like a gunshot. The square goes flying, becoming a red blur. It stays in the air for a couple of seconds, but that time is enough for the experienced recruiter to know that you've already won. By the time it hits the ground, he doesn't even have to look to know it's flipped.

You look up expectantly at him.

He glances at her, jaw clenching. Well, this isn't how it usually goes. Before he can move to pay you, your voice cuts through the silence. "From the look on your face, you didn't want me to win, correct?" The lack of response on his part encourages you to continue. "How about, instead of doing whatever the hell you were thinking, I propose a new rule," you lean forward, your eyes sparkling with mirth, "we both keep throwing until one of us loses. If I win...you give me everything that's in that case."

"And what if I win?"

Your mouth twists into a devilish smirk. "Don't worry, you won't."

His eyes look you up and down, scanning you. His hands twitch in anticipation at the challenge, adrenaline manifesting itself as electricity in his veins. His bruised ego from losing the first round combined with his competitive nature was enough to make him agree. This was not part of the plan. He could just give you the money, the card, and go about his day like he has so many times before. He has no reason to play along other than he just wants to beat you.

"Alright," his previously fabricated smile now becoming genuine, "my turn."

With renewed vigor, he launches his square and as expected, it flips. He lets out an arrogant chuckle as he fixes his suit and stands up straight, his lips stretching into a satisfied smile.

This cycle continued for multiple rounds, the money long forgotten. The need to succeed fueled the violent fire between the two of you. After a while, he lost all track of time, fixating all of his attention solely on the game.

By now, his hair was disheveled and sweat dripped down his forehead. He panted as he recovered, his arm muscles aching from the consistent use. It was taking more energy than he was willing to admit in order to keep going but like hell if he'd let exhaustion be the cause of failing.

On his turn, he prepared himself to once again launch the disc. He readied himself, drawing his arm back and—

His eyes suddenly flickered to your lips, where your tongue darted out lick them. He watches intensely at your now damp, chapped lips, mouth slightly parted as you breathe heavily from fatigue.

In his moment of distraction, the square slips from his hand. He scrambles quickly to catch it but it's too late...

He's lost.

There is a long pause of silence, before your high-pitched cackle cuts through the air. His eyes widen in shock, the realization slowly setting in.

How...

He breathes out deeply through his nose, trying his best to compose himself. What the hell was that? How on earth could he have lost? He Never. Loses. He doesn't have any longer to dwell on the fact as you practically skip in joy to the case, already counting the amount. All of this because you managed to distract him.

Your voice soon interrupts his thoughts. "Maybe the next time you want to win, you might try not to let your eyes stray so far..." you say as you wink.

How did you even notice? Wait...was that on purpose? He clenches his fists until they turn white, the thought making his blood boil. He has half the mind to kill you and call it an accident just to quell his anger.

He closes his eyes in frustration. No, I can't ruin the games.

He takes in a couple of deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Once he knows that his voice won't betray any conflict he feels, he speaks again, "you know, there are other games such as the one we just played. And for much larger prizes as well."

He's back in his element, his persuasive tone of voice exuding reliability. He hands you the card, explaining how it works, how to enlist, and so on.

By the time he finishes his speech, you look mostly convinced. After inspecting the card more closely, your stare finds his, "I appreciate what you have done and thank you for the opportunity. I will consider your offer. If I do accept know it will only be due to a singular fact," your head leans closer, voice lowering to a whisper and your breath fanning over his, "I never lose"

On that note, you step back and walk away, never once turning to glance back at him. You soon disappear into the dark Seoul night, shadows blending with that of buildings and trees.

He lets out a small huff in amusement. If that is true, then he's excited to see how you'll fare in the games.

please don't be a silent reader i love reading comments and hearing your thoughts.

[impishjesters]

Pomni, Kinger, Caine & Jax's reaction to their s/o abstracting

warning(s): angst, hurt no comfort, self-blame, "death" of the reader, implied "death"/abstraction of another character (spoiler: Kinger), hopeful outcome note(s): There's nothing incredibly heavy or detailed, just tread carefully if "death" is something you are sensitive to, please. The "hopeful outcome" implies that Caine will at some point in time be able to fix those who've abstracted. A/N: I was feeling particularly cruel and wanted to write some angst, this came to mind and I'll be honest. I made myself a little sad.

Pomni

She never saw it coming, of course, you were acting different lately but she didn’t think it would… lead to you abstracting…

It took forever for things to get some semblance of normalcy, and you being with her was a major part of it.

Sure the relationship in a place like this was a bit, weird, but you cared about her, and she cared about you.

You kept her sane and grounded, so when you were found abstracted? It felt like she failed you.

Ragatha tries to assure her that you aren’t completely gone. Like Kaufmo you’re being kept in the cellar. Caine claims the abstracted are being kept there until he can find a way to “fix” them. (Whether he’s genuine or not though, none of them know.)

It’s all empty promises though, she still feels like she failed you.

Kinger

Not again…

Kinger silently promised himself not again, he was fine being friendly with everyone else that fell into the circus, but he had no intentions of being more than that.

But then you happened, and while he was still in shambles from the time and the insanity spent here, you were there beside him. Like a knight in shining armor.

He hadn’t been around when you abstracted, in fact, he didn’t know you abstracted until there was yelling, and boom an abstraction was causing chaos.

Kinger didn’t know who it was until it was sent off to the cellar, actually, he didn’t know who it was until he realized everyone was present except you.

There’s a high probability that losing someone again, losing you, is what ends up being his own downfall. The other’s (not including Jax) try their all to get him to calm down but it’s not enough, it’s too late…

Caine

Of all the humans to be pulled in he never once got attached.

This was never supposed to happen, he’s incapable of love.

Caine does his best to keep the humans from abstracting, and as many eyes as he has over the place, there are always ones that slip through his grasp.

Of course, he’s not around when you abstract, it takes a bunch of hooting and hollering from everyone before he shows up and oh hey an abstraction.

At an immediate glance, he knows it’s you, abstractions never remotely look like the person they were before but he knows it’s you. You don’t recognize him as you lash out, of course you don’t, you can’t.

He’s unsure about tossing you with the others in the cellar, there’s nowhere else he can truthfully keep you without causing problems. So into the cellar, you go.

Caine visits you though, not for long but he does check in on you. Not that anything changes, but out of all the abstractions down there, he knows exactly which one is you.

You’ll be the first human he fixes as soon as he’s able to.

Jax

His s/o abstracted? Nice joke, though it’s in poor taste. You’re completely fine, he just saw you earlier.

Jax doesn’t believe it until he sees it, and seeing it absolutely ruins him. He’s seen countless others get abstracted and thrown into the cellar, but why, why does it have to be you?

Why couldn’t it have been literally anyone else? He didn’t give a shit about anyone else, the one person he cared for, and you…

Similarly to Pomni, he feels it’s his fault like he could’ve, no should’ve done more. Was he so wrapped up in everything else that he didn’t notice the signs? Why didn’t you talk to him? You didn’t, didn’t do that on purpose, did you?

For the first time ever, the others are genuinely worried about Jax, they all saw/know how much you meant to him. The two of you even spoke fondly about what the two of you would do if you got out of the circus.

For a while Jax becomes even more irrational and unhinged, they try not to hold it against him too badly, even when he oversteps. He’s grieving and none of them know just how long that’ll go on.

Jax isn’t quite the same afterward, but he makes sure that nobody else tries to worm their way into his heart.

If it’s possible, he’ll make sure Caine fixes you the second he’s able to. Even if Caine can fix only one person, it’s going to be you.

[rumisgf]

“ATTITUDE PROBLEM” - bakugou x reader

summary: a match made in hell heaven: a sassy man w a sassier gf. while you’re trying to be productive you end up getting annoyed with him, with how irritating he can be. but, your attitude is nothing new to him. katsuki definitely knows to- no, enjoys putting you in your place.

warnings: college!au, little to no plot, unprotected sex, degradation, dry humping, overstimulation, bakugou talks a lot, reader is black ofc, slight exhibitionism

“what’s the attitude for?”

bakugou dragged you to his dorm after you being all pouty the whole day. it’s currently the afternoon and you’re supposed to be studying, but instead he decides to deal with you. you both studying together is never a good idea, simply because you both have a smart ass mouth.

“cause you keep trynna act like i’m stupid or somethin’ and we’re doing the same thing, won’t even let me check my phone without sayin’ shit.” you nearly mumble, purposefully to show you don’t even wanna explain yourself. he rolls his eyes and you smack your lips, making a “mmcht” noise. “‘n there you go.”

he looks at you, ready to open his big mouth. instead, he looks at you for a good few seconds. he examines your little stank face, your eyes looking at him with your fresh set of lashes done, his beanie that you stole from him on your head. your brat attitude at the moment. so fucking adorable… he thinks to himself as his eyes can’t help but catch your plump lips. “maybe if ya actually got somethin’ done i’d be off yer lil ass but ‘xcuse me.”

just as you’re getting ready to retort back, he cuts you off with a kiss before you can even speak. you stare blankly at him, trying to hide how easily flustered he can make you. but he already knows.

“now can we do this shit so we’re not clueless on our next patrol?”

“who is we?”

this earned you him rolling his eyes again, before swiftly lifting you out your chair and into his lap. “fix this lil attitude you got before i fix it for you, lil bro.” he says with a stern, yet not completely serious tone. he’s messing with you right now, but if you don’t stop he’s about to, how do you say, stand on business. “lil bro is crazyyy.” you reply in a fake annoying tone. just like he likes this, you like agitating him because you know exactly where it leads. no matter if you’re still annoyed or not you’re still having fun.

“and what if i don’t fix it, the fuck? you don’t scare me.”

with that you find your lips smashed onto his, his hands fiercely gripped the side of your face while the other is gripping your waist, moving you on his lap closer to him. “watch who you talkin’ to.” he mutters into the kiss. his voice is still calm, but much lower in tone and more serious. you smirk into the kiss, hands disappearing into his hair. you go to unbutton his pants and he grabs your hand. “nah, watch out.” he instead turns his chair and places you on his bed, climbing on top of you shortly after. his lips travel to your neck, and he revels in the soft noises spilling out your mouth. you can feel him biting down on the flesh, sucking dark spots wherever he wants. you can also feel him grow harder on your crotch through the fabric of your leggings. “kats-”

he stops, and looks down at you, so vulnerable for him already. “hmm? what happened?” he makes himself seem so oblivious, even though he knows exactly what’s he’s doing to you. he becomes even more amused when you start to chase him lips and softly grind on his erection, slowly becoming so needy for him. he simply laughs, then begins to pull down your leggings. his fingers brush past your clothed wetness and the smirk on his face grows wider. “that easy? ain’t even touch ya yet and you makin’ a mess through your panties?”

“shut up..” you can’t respond properly. any smart remark has flown out your brain through your ears, he won and he knows it. “just do somethin’ about it.” and he does just that. he pulls your underwear to the side, and his thumb finds your clit. you whine at his touch, feeding his ego. “like that?” you nod frantically and he chuckles, keeping a dreadfully slow pace that has you feening for more. he looks down, seeing your slick being to drip out your sweet cunny, landing on his bedsheets. “damn..” he sounds breathless, admiring what he caused. “so wet f’ me, princess.”

his hands immediately go to unzip his pants, and he throws off his hoodie. you instinctively slide off your underwear, biting your lip as you keep eye contact with the bulge in his boxers. “yeah take that shit off f’ me.” his voice is making you hotter by the minute. you look up at him puppy eyed, and he smiles at you. “what’chu want?” he asks tauntingly, already knowing the answer. “i need you now, please.” you whine, pulling him closer

he follows that command, pulling down his boxers. his dick springs out of them and you swear your mouth actually starts watering. his hands spread your legs wide open, and he begins to push himself into your sopping entrance. “fuuuck..” you moan, feeling every inch of him go in. he wastes no time pumping into you, hand placed on your lower stomach. “you still got an attitude? huh? you wanna be a fuckin’ brat? you- ah shit- you still wanna get smart with me, slut?” he looks down at you, looking at your closed eyes. you shake your head, leaning into the pillow. he can’t help but fall weak to how wet and warm you feel on his dick as he slips in and out of you. “look at me, baby.”

his pace quickens, thrusting harder into you while looking you straight in your eyes. you moan out his name and it sends him flying inside. “yeah… yeahhh take that shit.” his hand moves to your hips, pushing you down further onto his dick. “fuck, b-baby..i- can’t..” you cry, feeling the knot in your stomach form. but, he doesn’t care one bit. you were gonna stand on how you were acting. “take this dick, be a big girl.” he says, voice much deeper the second time as he presses his hand back on your lower stomach. his begins to pant with his thrust as he feels your walls tight around him. your hand tries to hold onto his stomach in at attempt to push him back, but you can’t even get yourself to reach because he’s too much. “uh huh, such a big girl. take it f’ me like a good lil slut.”

your moans grow louder as your orgasm begins to creep up on you. “kats i’m close- fuck!” you throw your head back in pure bliss. “yeah, you gonna cum? huh baby?” he grips one of your asscheeks and squeezes it. “yess…fuck kats i’m gonna cum..” you can barely speak through your moans. “mhm, let everybody in that hallway know who my little slut is.” shivers begin to flow down your spine as you begin to do what he has said and cream all over his dick, practically screaming and crying out his name as he continues to drill into you. this sends him over the edge as he chases his own high, leaning his body onto yours. he buries his face into your neck as he pounds into you, overstimulating your soaking cunt. “shit.. ah shit- fuck baby, i’m close.” strings of curses flow out his mouth into your ear. the combination of your lewd, near pornographic moans and your warm walls fluttering around him is almost too much for him. then, he starts to let out a sharp, low moan that lingers on as his orgasm comes over him. he pulls out, letting go on your stomach and moans becoming more breathy as his seed spills out in heavy loads.

he immediately shifts up off you, grabbing multiple tissues out the box he has on his nightstand. you’re still fucked out, breathing heavy and eyes barely open so all you can do is lay there as he wipes you off. after both of you are cleaned off with your underwear back on he plops over next to you, then pulls you on top of him. you both take a second to catch your breath, then he locks eyes with you. one hand finds your ass, softly massaging the skin while the other cups your cheek. “you’re a real brat, y’know that?” you look back at him for a second, then smile lazily at him “i know.” he smacks his lips and you giggle into his chest, purposefully unconsciously shifting on his lap. “stop playin’ before fuck the shit out of you again.”

spoiler alert, he did. about three more times actually.

© rumisgf

[householdcryptid]

Imagine someone like Craig makes a sexual comment about reader and pope FLIPS OUT. I feel like pope is super protective. Also I feel like pope is really body positive rather someone is super skinny or curvy he could care less. Body hair doesn't scare pope

you are totally correct, pope would not care at all what size or shape your body is. i genuinely think he doesn't even factor that into his like...attraction I guess? like obviously he thinks you're sexy/beautiful/handsome but that is NOT the first thing he notices about you. idk if this was supposed to be a nurse!reader or a shy!reader, but I did sunshine cause I felt like it fit them :) cw: uhh, pope being pope, gunshot wound mention (not in any crazy detail though), craig being craig, slightly sexual comment made by Craig. 1K Words :) she's short and sweet

It all starts with a comment from Craig. Just one, tiny little comment, harmless by your standards. Some of the whacked-out patients at the clinic spew much more vile shit at you on a day-to-day basis. “If Pope’s not up to the task, I’d be happy to fix that attitude, Sunshine.” You’d been in a mood, considering Pope had been caught in the line of a shotgun’s buckshot two days ago. He was fine, thank God (or whatever deity watches over him and his fucked up family), but you’d been on edge. Snappy and waspish in a way you’re normally able to control. The comment hardly makes you look up. Tossing Craig a middle finger is easy by now, but Pope isn’t so forgiving. He’s up as fast as he can manage, gunning straight for his brother with a slight limp in his normally steady step. “Fuck did you say-?” He’s almost growling, voice gone sharp, gravelly. It shouldn’t make heat stir in your belly, but it does. His hands, open palm, collide with Craig’s shoulders, gripping the fabric of the taller man’s tank top, knuckles white. “Keep your fuckin’ mouth shut-” You’ve never seen him in action, not like this. Not that this is as bad he gets, either, you’re sure. It’s jarring nonetheless. “Andrew,” You call out, surprised, voice raising an octave, a frown working its way across your face. You’re crossing the room after him on instinct, hand settling on the back of his shoulder. He goes stiff beneath it, breathing hard, nostrils flared and eyes wide. That wild look he gets— like a hurricane barely contained— turns to you, just a bit. The slightest tip of his head in your direction. Craig is smirking, hands held up plaintively at his sides. You barely bite back a curse in his direction, choosing instead to focus on Pope. 

“Drew, let ‘im go.” You murmur, shaking your head slowly. “He’s just bein’ a dick,” Your gaze cuts to Craig then, who at least has the decency to look the tiniest bit apologetic. “It’s alright, c’mon.” You mumble, hand sliding from Pope’s shoulder to his back, rubbing gently between his shoulder blades. “You’re gonna rip your stitches. Sit down for me, lemme check.” It takes a minute, two, but then his fingers are unfurling from Craig’s shirt, and he’s shoving him away like the touch burns. “Fuck outta here.” He barks, gruff and a little mean, sniffing once and turning to face you finally. You nod, lead him back over to the couch where he’d been stationed for the better part of the day. You know it’s been killing him. This sitting around, doing nothing, staring a TV, feigning interest in whatever bullshit Craig and Deran are talking about, or, God forbid, Smurf coming over to ‘comfort’ him. He hates to be in one spot for too long, despises being useless. When Craig is out of ear shot, you squat down in front of him, fingers curling in the bottom hem of his shirt and lifting it. “You don’t have to do that, y’know?” You murmur, peeling back his bandages tenderly, looking over the handful of stitches you’d had sewn into his skin. He tilts his head, frowning like he doesn’t understand what you mean. “Defend me like that.” You clarify, sparing a glance up at him, eyebrow arched. “I can handle it. People have said a lot worse, believe me.” His frown only deepens the more you speak, eyes gone dark with a thinly veiled rage, thick fingers clenching at the edge of the couch cushion he sits on. “M’not gonna let him talk to you like that.” He grumbles low, pointed. “No one gets to talk to you like that.” His gaze doesn’t let up, and something in his tone lets you know there’s a threat hidden there. Something dark, primal, biding its time. Affection blooms in your heart despite it, something that never ceases to unnerve you. The violence and anger that reside in him should not be as endearing as you seem to find it. Or maybe it isn’t that, that draws you into him. Maybe it’s the devotion, the allegiance he has to you. You know, deep down, that he’d burn the world to keep you safe and happy. You smile in spite of the heavy tone he’s just set, shake your head in that gentle, fond way that makes his stomach tighten. He relaxes minutely when your hands find the sides of his neck, leaning into your touch. “You’re sweet.” You state quietly, tipping your head forward just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nose brushing against his own gently. He sighs heavily through his nose, resting his forehead against yours, eyes sliding shut. The tension bleeds from him all at once, his hand sliding up your forearm to cup your elbow. He’s never known a feeling like the one you give him. Something tight in his chest unravels when you touch him, leaving him to feel… bare, vulnerable, and he hates it as much as he craves it. “Let’s go home.” He mumbles, nose pressing to the apple of your cheek, fingers dimpling the skin of your upper arm. Your home, he means. Not his little condo that resembles a prison cell more than an actual home, but your apartment. Where it smells of coconut and his shampoo sits next to yours in the shower. And you can’t deny him anything when his voice drops to that soft, breathy tone. Especially not when he’s actually asking for something, a rare act at best. You reward him with another kiss, humming quietly in confirmation. “Yeah, big guy,” You whisper. “Let’s go home.”

[imnotlostimlooking]

I hate the Eddie story line that's happening. Like I hate that they are putting him through all this bullshit over a mistake that he made because of years of trauma. And i hate reading stories where people make it out like he was cheating on Marisol. Maybe he wasn't great for sneaking around with another woman but if you really look at it? Nothing remotely romantic or sexual was going on. Eddie saw this woman who was a clone of his dead wife and latched onto her because of this, as if she could somehow solve all the answers he'd never gotten even tho he logically knew she couldn't. They spent a lot of time together and maybe some of the things they did seemed romantic but he was always detached with her.

Its never said in the show but this man was raised (using the term loosely) by a Mexican father in an extremely catholic household and so I'm betting all my money on the fact that when his girlfriend got pregnant at 19 it wasn't HIS choice to get married. Even if he was the one to suggest it, it would have been because it was 'the right thing to do'. He was a baby. Having a baby.

He joined the army and came back with ptsd up the whazoo to parents who were raising his child like he was their own, giving him the love they'd never given Eddie, and a wife who resented him. His wife left him with a child he didn't know how to care for and parents who wanted to take Christopher away from him because he worked 3 jobs to get on his feet.

This man moved to LA and yeah he found the 118 and a family but his life revolved around work and Christopher and 'finding him a mother' which he canonically said. It never even seemed as though he wanted to be dating when he was with those women, more perfunctory than anything, even tho he didn't realize it.

And then he meets this woman who looks just like his dead wife who left him and came back and divorced him and died and she storms his fucking castle in cosplay and forces him to open up when he's clearly uncomfortable with it and his child walks in.

And yeah, it's fucking terrible. Like the worst. Oh my god poor Christopher seeing that. Poor Marisol thinking he's been cheating on her this whole time. But also. Poor fucking Eddie. Poor fucking Eddie because he didn't ask that fucking woman to show up at his goddamn house. He didn't ask her to dress like his dead fuxking wife and try and fix all his trauma. Yeah what he did wasn't right, but he cut shit off and that should have been that. He didn't ask to be fixed and he certainly didn't ask for whatever the hell rhat was.

And then his child calls his grandparents to come get him which is fair cause he's a child right? Kids do things like that. But they come and take him without even a call to Eddie. Their son. Who they are supposed to love and cherish. They don't ask what happened. They don't ask if he's okay. They just place blame and steal his child and Eddie let's them because Eddie has trauma and he 'knows' he's never been good enough for his kid and this is just the nail in the coffin so he should let him go right? And they fuxking take him.

But now? Like moving to Texas? Go get your fucking child and bring him home. He's a child. He does not make the fucking decisions. It should not even have lasted that long that he was in el Paso in the first place. Why is no one telling him that he's the fucking parent in this situation. Why is no one telling him rhat he's good enough. That he's an amazing father. That his parents are manipulating his trauma. That yeah maybe he fucked up but he didn't do anything actually WRONG.

And im reading all this fics where he is groveling and saying or being accused of cheating and im like wtf. Disgusting. I hate it. Let him be fucking A+ parent dad Eddie again cause I'm tired of this shit. Go to his parents house. Tell them to fuxk all the way off. Tell your kid to pack his shit he can be mad in LA in therapy.

[feveredvisions]

Kiss Me Thru The Phone

(Harry Da Souza x you!!)

Here's the Epilogue btw and my Masterlist if you want some more filth or some fluff xx

Synopsis: Harry Da Souza flakes on yet another date with his girlfriend. Tonight, she reaches her breaking point when she waited at Charlie's for nothing. Taking offence at the pity look the hostess gave her at the lounge. Even more of a loser when she lied about being "Missus Da Souza" just to lock in their reservation as they prioritise married couples than fickle boyfriends and girlfriends. Harry twists her searing hot anger into something even hotter and wetter. Keeping his double-life as a fixer for a ruthless crime family and as a boyfriend who's an on-call clinician for the elite, he races back home to fix the only real thing that matters most to him.

Author's note: So after I finished watching the first episode of MobLand, "Kiss Me Thru The Phone" by Soulja Boy kept playing in my mind. I hope this does not spoil too much. To those who have seen it, I got inspired by the part where Harry promises to try one therapy session with his wife, Jan, and leaving the scheduling to her as he guarantees her that he'll be there. Swear. And just like Jan, I am quite skepctical but yeah, sure, Harry. So that's how this story was conceived. Originally, this was dramatic and painful as shit, but then the wind changed. I made it smutty as shit because it works just like their dynamic as a dysfunct couple. Tysm @cafekitsune for the cute dividers!!

Roses are red. I'm a twat. A hundred ain't shit 'cause you're worth more than that. Wish I was there to kiss you proper, But I'm stuck playing hero... Call you later, my love P.s. Don't burn the flowers and the note yeah? They're extremely flammable - H. XXX

"A fucking joke." You bitterly spat out as you crumpled the note and threw it in the fireplace to burn into ashy oblivion like how Harry had been to you.

Tonight was supposed to be your dinner date with him at Charlie's restaurant in Mayfair that you booked two months prior. It was a serious warzone to even secure a reservation there as there were other richer posher cunts who were adamant to buy out a spot, but surprisingly all it took was lying to the reservationist that you were a Missus Da Souza instead of your maiden name to lock in a table. You scoffed at the memory of it. Of course, married couples would be prioritised. Less drama and they're more stable. Unlike you and Harry... That was probably the closest you'll ever get to ever being truly his.

Tonight, you showed up at Charlie’s in your long off-shoulder red silk dress and a pashmina shawl to match. You had your tell-tale signs that Harry was not at all going to make it tonight. He’s always fashionably on time but never late. But you waited for him at the waiting lounge and only ended up being a fool. He was too much of a hero to his VIP patients and to the world to spare a minute being your lover. You had nothing against his job as an on-call clinician for high-profile posh families but it was getting ridiculous lately how often he was always out. How often were these people terribly ill? You never questioned it nor nagged him about it as you respected his profession and the secrecy it demanded, but tonight, it just about killed you.

Defeated, you took a cab home and when you reached home, the florist truck was unloading a delivery of ten dozens of red roses. All pathetic sorry red roses and no sign of Harry. It was stupid, really. Another empty gesture. A currency of materialistic emotional bribe. It really pissed you off. Burnt off whatever patience and grace you've got left. 

The safe phone which was a wee keypad phone that Harry provided you was pressed against your ear. It was an emergency phone in case he needs to be contacted directly for whatever reason. Another bullshit. He doesn't always answer unless he's the one calling it. Your emotions were in an uncontainable chaotic storm. The stench of the subtle sweet fragrance of the roses in the living room were starting to make your head throb. Heady. Borderline nauseous if you think more of it.

Harry called you after he just finished a bloody clean-up for the Harrigans family. Burning off all the evidences, scrubbing off and rinsing any DNA off the earth after dumping the body in the river Thames in the dead of night. Something you'll never know. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he got inside the driver’s seat of his car, the engine on. His heart pounding. For a moment, he closed his eyes. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears too followed by a brief sharp ringing. The vein in his neck throbbing.

His life and everything in it always held at a gunpoint no matter how much he tries to keep certain things away from his fixer business. Now that the family mess had been dealt with for the night, this was a bigger one with his girl he had to fix. The blood splatters on his jacket he can explain. A bloody emergency surgery he had to assist to. More like a hands-on surgery to keep a war from erupting.

You were walking around the house, pushing all the windows open to let fresh air in whilst the cellphone was pressed on your ear. "Honestly, Harry. What were you thinking sending me all these roses? You want me to make a salad out of the petals? Have a mouthful of your sorry flowers?"

"Babe, no, don't even—"

"I don't even have the vase to fit all of them in…” You murmur, trying to distract yourself from lashing out at him through the phone by focusing on the mundane. But then you reached your breaking point and unable to stop your tears when you caught a reflection of yourself in the mirror by the staircase. Your mouth quivering into a pout, stifling a whimper as your throat tightened up from the tears. You looked absolutely ravishing in your dress. Spent hours getting ready for tonight's special dinner, only for all of it to go down the drain. It was beyond frustrating.

“And I’m wearing this really gorgeous red Isabel Marant dress that I look really good in and you’re not even here to see it. Didn’t even get to wear it for a happy occasion.” You spoke through your tears.

“Babe, listen—” Harry's voice cracked through the burner phone. In the background, you could hear the hum of his BMW engine along with the occasional horn blaring.

“No, you listen.” You snapped, swiping at your wet cheeks with the back of your hand. Kicking your high heels off and storming back to the living room where the stupid boxes of the the red roses were. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it was? Sitting in the lobby like some loser, watching every other couple get seated while the host kept giving me that pity look? And then…and then I come home to this!” you kicked at one of the bouquet boxes. Some loose petals fell down the floor. “You think flowers fix anything?” you kicked another box of roses harder.

“Oi!” His voice sharp and dangerous. “The fuck you kickin’ my gift for, huh?”

“So now you care about them getting wrecked?!” you hissed.

He just chuckled darkly. Sadistic fucker. 

And pretty sure it was the unmistakeable sound of the metallic clang of the undoing of his belt buckle and him unzipping his jeans. You frown as you tried to make sense of what you were hearing through the phone. Surely, he wouldn't do what you initially thought he's doing right? 

Then—ptui— spitting on his palm followed by…a slick, creamy sound of a flesh, followed by a sigh of relief. It automatically made your thighs press together that you had to sit on the couch, kicking off and stepping on some of the stupid roses in the process. Breathing hitched in your throat.

“... Harry?”

“You wanna act like a brat?” The sound of his fist dragging over his angrily throbbing weeping erect cock obscenely loud in your ear. “Then listen to what you're missin’, babe.”

You bit your lip and swallowed a moan. The rhythmic wet stroking of his cock sent a bolt of heat directly to your cunt. “You fucking dick—”

“Mmm yeah. Thick too. Just how you like it.” He taunted with a groan. Then his voice shifted to menacing. “Bet your pretty pussy’s drippin’ right now, pissed off as you are.” 

“Fuck you.” Your lips turned into a helpless pout as you lightly bit the tip of your pointer finger like a guilty nun quietly indulging in the Song of Solomons. Rucking your dress up to your hips as you leaned back and propped your legs up, spreading your thighs open. Biting your lip as you took your panties off and flung it on the floor, landing amongst the roses.

“Nah, fuck you, darlin’. Got me hard as shit hearing you get mad at me. And even lyin’ to that posh twat at Charlie's. Bloody Mrs. Da Souza. Cheeky thing.” another schlick, louder this time.

You arched your back as your fingers circled on your hard sensitive clit. “Had to. They only prioritise wives.” A moan slipped out. “Not that you'd know. Too busy playing doctor for every rich slag in London.”

“Tell you what,” he sped up. Breath hitching. “I’ll put a proper ring on it. Marry me. I'll spike your anti baby pills, knock you up so deep, you'll waddle down the aisle.”

You whimpered as you slipped two fingers inside you, walls hungrily squeezing around it, whining for his actual cock. Hitting the spot that immediately brought in the impending sensation of your orgasm. “Romantic. You'd ruin marriage.”

“Hell yeah, we would.” A groan. “Fuck tradition. I'd bend you over the altar, eat your cunt in front of the priest—”

“Ah! Harry!” You cried out as you came. Hips bucking. Your orgasm coming in a flashflood of squirt. Showering the roses as your body convulsed, followed by a loud shameless bubbly wet queef.

Harry growled. “Christ. That mouthy cunt talkin’ back to me now?” he mocked. His voice thick and angry. For a moment, his car swerves as he punches the gas to hell.

You weakly laughed as you fell limp into the couch, still having slight twitching. Your fingers still fucking your turned on and ravenous pussy. “Says you're shit at apologies.”

“Mmmm I'll eat that fucking cunt.” A slorch of a wet, open-mouthed kiss came out the receiver. Your clit hardening and your pussy walls growing slicker and warmer like molten honey again. “She’s creaming again ain't she?”

You breathe quietly as your fingers scissor and fuck your slobbery pussy. Filling the room with the obscene sounds of your wet and creamy queefs. Each puff like a taunt like it was sassing him, to which harry growls at.

“That’s right. Argue with me you filthy cunt,” he snarls. “Best fuckin’ pussy  I've ever had. Queefin’, creamin’, squirtin’ all over my bastard roses.”

Your whimper turned into a cry as you reached another squirting peak, which lingered so you kept fucking yourself wetly with your fingers. The pleasure of your second orgasm spasming through your walls and your womb. Your body twitching and trembling. 

Harry hissed over the phone, keeping himself from busting out his load. His fist still working his hard cock in brutal slick strokes as his pre-cum dripped down from the tip of his slit down to his shaft. Punishing himself as much as he's punished you.

“Fuckin’ hell, babe. Listen to that. Greedy little slag creamin’ for me, yeah?”

Another wet pfft came outta your pussy walls clenched around nothing. Pissed off and empty. “You’re a fucking tease.”

“Tease?” he darkly chuckles. The car engine letting out a mean snarl as he shifts his gear, tires screeching. “You're the one spread out on our couch, ruining my roses with your creamy squirt, babe. Bet they smell like you now—fuck.” He hissed as he achingly forces his sensitive hard cock back in his pants with one hand and zipping his jeans back up. “Wish I could bottle that scent. Wear it like cologne. Let every bastard in London know of the lady who owns me.”

“Harry—” You whine as your thighs begin to tremble. Eyes tearing up from frustration as your pleasure won't die down. 

“Nah, nah, keep goin’,” he orders. “Make her squirt again, babe. I wanna hear it.”

You obey, curling your fingers whilst you grind your clit on the heel of your palm. Eyeballs rolling back as another wave of pleasure coils tightly in your belly. Helpless whimpers escaping your mouth.

“That's it, love,” he snarls. “Come all over yourself. Make a proper mess. When I get home, I'm lickin' every drop off ya. Then fuckin’ you so deep, I'll get your pretty cunny queefin' ‘round me cock, yeah?”

A high pitched scream tears from your throat as your third orgasm hits you like a freight train. The roses spread in front of the couch were thoroughly soaked. The petals and stems glistening from your depravity. Your own personal crime scene.

Harry's breathing was ragged through the phone. His voice is as rough as sandpaper as he murmurs to himself. “Fuckin’ hell.”

A debauched mess in your red Isabel Marant dress that's still tucked up to your waist and partly drenched in your own fluids too. The air reeked of the evening breeze, the woody aroma from the fireplace, and the stench of sex mixed with a heady rosy scent.

A wanton thing you were as you sank down the couch. Post-coital electric humming in your warm damp skin. “Fuck you, Da Souza.”

“Promise, I will.” He was sincere this time. The engine of his BMW roars as he accelerates. “Soon as I walk through the door.”

You scoff. “You're barely even here yet.”

“But I am.” he taunts. “Already got my hands on you, didn't I? Made you cum ‘n squirt three times without even touchin’ you.”

“Cheater.”

“Nah, just good at my job.” He pauses. His voice soft when he speaks again. “Actually, quick change of plans. Get dressed, babe. We're goin’ out.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Charlie's. That table’s still ours.”

“Harry, it's past midnight.”

“Not for us. Let me fix this.”

For a moment, your heart stutters. Letting him put in the effort this time.

“Want that dress back on. Leave the knickers off. I wanna feel how fuckin’ wet you are under the table.”

You sat up, the post-coital rush of headache almost knocking you back down. “You're insane…”

“Insanely, madly in love with you, darling.” He shifts gears. “Twenty minutes, babe. Be ready.”

Epilogue at Charlie's maybe?

Thanks so much for reading, your comments, and your likes and reblogs!! MWAH xx

[st4rymoon]

𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵

*+:｡.｡ Miguel x afab Reader

Summary - Miguel finally had time to visit your universe , little did you know Dr. Strange would stir up some jealousy inside Miguel.

Warnings - 18+, unprotected, language, semi-public sex?, ass smacking, cream pie, jealous Miguel, pet names [doll, sweetheart, honey, good girl], mirror sex. Strange flirts with you in front of Miguel…, possessive Miguel, pussy eating, edging, teasing

Continuation of this series! (Pt.4) → Consequences

Miguel finally worked things out so he could visit your universe, Jessica happily volunteered to take care of everything while he was gone. She was thrilled to finally see Miguel happy, blabbering about you, he wouldn’t shut up about how excited he was to see your life.

You were anxious about him seeing your universe, the both of you have been together for around 7 months. Although you were supposed to take Miguel with you when you first went back, an incursion began to form in another universe but as always, Miguel fixed it.

But now that everything is settled and Miguel finally asked if he could go and see where you grew up you happily obliged. The only thing he was silently dreading was being introduced to Dr. Strange.

You suspected from the first time you met Miguel that he idolized Dr. Strange due to his fascination but it turns out it’s quite the opposite. Miguel knew about the mess other Stranges have caused, yet Dr. Strange was talked about like a cryptid or folktale.

The other spiders claim to have met Dr. Strange yet Miguel doesn’t seem to believe them since he’s never personally met him.

“Ready?” You smiled as you walked up to Miguel. He was tense, he’s done this thousands of times, traveling through the universe was like breathing to him but he felt like his heart was about to explode.

“A little nervous” he chuckled. “Nothing to be nervous about, let’s go”

Once the both of you arrived, Miguel wasn’t as tense. Your universe wasn’t very different from his which he liked. “I have to go check up on my sister, please don’t bring up any of the spider stuff up… she doesn’t know” you awkwardly smiled.

“Of course, my mouth is sealed” he winked as he wrapped his arm around you “Lead the way”

You made it to your sister’s apartment, you could hear her music blasting from inside. Your sister was the wild child, being only 3 years younger than you she got up to much more mischief even with you being a human spider.

You knocked on the door, once, twice, and still no answer. Finally, you knocked loud enough causing the door to fly open “YOU ARE HERE!” She yelled, jumping into your arms and pulling you inside.

“You must be Miguel? My dear sister won’t stop talking about you when she’s here. Always Miguel’s this, Miguel, that it’s annoying” Your sister smiled as she hugged Miguel.

“I’m flattered” Miguel Chuckles as he returns the hug. “Also I forgot to tell you that wizard guy came looking for you, he said to call him whenever you could” your sister nodded.

Your eyes grew wide. Why the hell was Strange needing you? You automatically think it’s something horrible, he usually never contacts your family if he was looking for you.

“Strange came over? Did he say anything?” You questioned “Nah he just said you work for him at his museum thing and he needed help finding a book” she shrugged.

Shit. It must’ve been that damn book of Vishanti he’s been bothering you about. He had you fetch it for him as a ‘sorry I went to another universe and fell in love with another spider’ apology gift.

Strange was pissed when he found out what had happened but surprisingly said it was meant to happen anyways which was something you’ve never heard strange say.

“Hey, sis? Would you mind if I go see what Strange wants? I promise I’ll be back, I’ll even bring you some ice cream” You smiled with a dramatic grin and your eyelashes fluttered as you looked at her.

“Ew don’t do that and yes you can” she shooed you away as she walked back into her kitchen. “Nice to meet you, Miguel!” She waved as something popped into her oven.

“Fuck! My cupcakes” she whined as you closed the door behind you.

“So what do you think strange wants with you?” Miguel asked as soon as you both were out of the apartment “I’m not sure honestly, the only thing I can think of is the book of Vishanti but I’m not 100% sure why” you sighed.

“You’ll finally get to meet him though! He’s um…. Let’s just say passive-aggressive as a heads up” You rubbed your arm as you looked over at Miguel. You couldn’t imagine the disaster that would happen if both of them got into a fight.

Both stubbornness and believing they are always right is something they have in common. “We’ll see how we get along” is all Miguel mutters.

You made it to the sanctum, the giant building standing tall as you look back at Miguel “Ready?” You smiled “Yup”

You walked into the giant building, it was completely silent as both you and Miguel’s footsteps echoed through the building. “Strange what the hell do you want!” You yell as you look around.

“Hey sweetheart” you hear Stranges voice boom from the left. You rolled your eyes as he walked into view with a confident stride. Strange's pet name wasn’t new to you, you don’t believe he says it in a flirtatious way, more of an enduring way. “so this is that Spider-Man right? Are you as annoying as the other spiders coming in and out of there?” Strange teased.

You can see Miguel’s jaw clench tight as Strange walks down “Can you be nice you shit, yes he’s my boyfriend” You scoff as you move towards Miguel.

Miguel didn’t say a word as he stood there, arms crossed and jaw clenched. “Anyways what do you want Strange” you hiss while pointing a finger at him “Just wondered where you were is all, it’s boring around here with no spiders especially when my favorite one disappears for a while, how couldn’t I miss her?” He teased.

“If you went and bothered my sister just because you missed me I can get 5 other spiders here right now if you want, you’ll surely be occupied” You shrugged.

You could hear it in a stranges voice that he was purposely trying to make Miguel mad. “No, but when will I have you back here?”

“You act like you don’t call me whenever you need help, I was rarely ever here. I don’t know if you're acting this way because Miguel’s here but don’t you ever flirt with me.” You hiss.

“Gosh, I’m joking! Wanted to see if this spider had the temper everyone was talking about” Strange laughed out in amusement.

Miguel was silent, you know he was fuming inside by how red his eyes were. “Let’s go” you seethe as you drag Miguel out by the arm.

He doesn’t move. He stands in the same spot, staring at Strange with narrow eyes “Do you have a bathroom?” Miguel blurted out. “Uh yeah it’s to the rig-“

“She can show me” Miguel Blanty replies as he drags you by the arm “Miguel let’s go you can go at my sister's” you whispered.

“Where’s it at?” he asked as held onto you close. “I- this way” You gave a confused look as you pointed him to the restroom.

Before you could turn he pulled you into the bathroom with him. “God he pisses me off” Miguel groaned as he buried himself in your neck. A shaky moan spilled out of your mouth as his actions took you by surprise.

“What’s up with you?” You chuckled as he lifted you onto the sink. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders instinctively as he began to rock into you.

“I don’t appreciate him disrespecting both of us like that” he sighed, his arms running up your thighs as you kissed down his jaw. You had a clue of where this was going and you loved it.

“Think I should fuck you loud enough for him to hear huh? Let him hear how pretty you sound when you're begging me to cum in you? I think I should” he purrs.

You whine at his words, your hips bucking to his as his hand snake onto your throat “yea…” you pant out, already out of breath from how fast your heart was beating.

Miguel knew the power he had over you, he could have you melting in his touch within seconds. You hummed in pleasure as his fingers unbuttoned your jeans “You want it doll? Say it, tell me what you want” Miguel coos.

“Yes” is all you could get out as he tugged your jeans down, tossing them onto the ground “Yes what sweetheart?”

You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Where you really going to fuck Miguel in the sanctum? It wasn’t professional on your part but you couldn’t help but feel turned on as Miguel whispered dirty praises in your ear.

“Fuck me” it came out desperate and pathetic, Miguel loved it more than you can imagine. He chuckled at your response, obeying instantly as he pulled your panties off.

You were struggling to get his pants off, the need making you jitter while you unbuckled his belt. He leaned in for a kiss, Moaning into your mouth as he tossed your hands to the side and removed his belt and pants in seconds.

“How can I resist something this gorgeous huh? Look at you” he mocked as he held your face up to his and chuckled at how red your cheeks were. He ran two fingers down your folds, groaning at the wet sound of your cunt when he plunged his fingers inside you.

You let out a shaky moan as he shoved two fingers into you, pulling them out with a smirk as he licked them clean “Taste so good” he purred before kneeling to your pussy.

“Miguel please need you inside me” you pleaded “Shh doll you’ll get what you want, patience” his arms wrapped around your plump thighs, tossing them onto his shoulders as he lifted you to his face.

You leaned onto your elbows, staring at Miguel as he stared at your pussy in awe. He licks his lips hungrily before burying his face into your cunt. You let out a loud cry as he licked and sucked on your clit, fingers tangling into his hair as he moaned into you.

Your head fell back onto the mirror, back arched off the counter as Miguel lapped at your soaked pussy “Why’re you covering your mouth huh? Let him hear you” Miguel seethed as he looked up at you.

He ripped your hand away from your mouth, using one hand to keep your hands pinned onto your stomach and the other to keep you from squirming.

You never got tired of the way he held you down so easily, you didn’t know it was possible for someone to keep you still with only 2 hands but Miguel made sure you knew he could.

Your moans grow heavy and loud as you feel your stomach fluttering, the back of your heels digging into his back as your thighs squeezed around his head.

He moaned at the feeling of your thighs locking him in and before he knew it your orgasm washed over you. That little add of vibration of his moan tipped you over the edge causing you to let go.

“That’s right baby, let him know” he mumbled as he pulled away from your thighs. His mouth and chin were covered in your slick, his lips connected to yours as he pulled you onto him.

You pulled at his boxers, dragging them down to his knees causing his cock to spring out onto your stomach. You clenched around nothing as you noticed how big he was on your stomach.

You had no idea how he always managed to fit inside you, even when you felt like he was splitting you in half. Your hand wrapped around his cock, aligning his thick tip onto your hole.

He pushes in softly, hands on your waist as you buried into his chest. Loud groans came from both of you as you wrapped around his cock perfectly, your nails digging into his shoulders as he picked up his pace.

“Migu- mi-“ you stuttered as he looked at you in admiration, his eyes watching the string of spit from your sloppy kiss drip down your chin as he fucks you brainless.

“Yeah doll?”

You didn’t know why you were saying his name, you had nothing to say. You just bounced along with his hard thrusts as he stuffed you full. He switched positions quickly, turning you around and lifting your ass in the air.

“Want you to look at yourself, look at how pretty you fucking look” he hummed. You were met with your own fucked out reflection, cheeks burning red and saliva all over your mouth as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

He didn’t waste any time pushing into you, his fingers digging into your hips as he watches your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes connect to his, a smile formed on his lips as your mouth hung open at his new angle.

Your eyes rolled back, your hands holding onto the counter as he fucked you hard onto the marble sink. “Oh m- my” you moaned out “who makes you feel this good huh? Say it, who?” He cooed, his hand palming your ass before his heavy hand slapped onto you.

You moaned at his smack, your body jerking as the new feeling made you clench. “Miguel” you panted as he picked up his pace “Not loud enough honey” he seethed, earning another harsh slap on your ass.

“Miguel, you Miguel please please I- I’m so cl- fuc” you whine out as his hand snakes onto your clit, his fingers impressively playing your body like he’s done it all his life.

“Huh?“ he grunted “I can’t hear you doll” he clicked his tongue after his words, his pace slowing as he looked as if he was going to pull back “NO! No Miguel please I- Im so close don’t stop pleas-“ you cry out. You were so lost in the pleasure you didn’t realize why you were even fucking in the bathroom.

You forgot about the whole strange situation, your pleads and begs echoing in the bathroom as you thrust onto his hips for friction.

You hated being edged, he knew that but he loved seeing you like this. Fucking yourself onto him when he decides to tease. His eyes burned into you through the mirror, your teary eyes looking up at him as he rubs your ass.

“Good girl”

He thrusts into you once again, this time his fingers playing with your clit with precision. His name spilled out of your lips, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you felt yourself reaching your 2nd orgasm.

His free hand pinned your hands onto your back, giving him a better grip for him to slam into you even harder. The pornographic sounds of slapping skin and moans fill the room as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

Your eyes fluttered as you felt yourself shake, tears streamed down your face as the orgasm hit you hard. Miguel’s eyes watching your tears stream down as you moaned his name was something he could never get tired of.

“That’s it doll, let it out. Let it alll out” he hummed. His eyes glued onto your pussy, the wet sticky slick sticking and stringing onto his lap with each thrust. The white ring forming around his cock made his eyes roll back, he felt himself twitch. “Shit b- ba- doll fuck”

His body slouched forward as he thrusts harshly, his fingers holding your hips as he took in your tight walls. His heavy pants and groans sounded like music to your ears, you lazily looked up at him and his messy strands of hair stuck to his face.

He dropped onto your back, kissing your shoulders as he filled you full of his seed. He stayed inside for a few seconds, waiting to come back to earth before pulling out of you. He watched as he spills out of you, the white warm liquid dripping down your thigh making you shiver as you heavily panted.

Your hair was a mess, eyes puffy and red, and cheeks burning. Miguel looked just as fucked out as you did, his lips puffy from the amount of biting he did, hair sticking to his forehead, and cheeks blushed.

“Don’t you look pretty?” He coos as he leans forward to grip your face, teasingly moving it side to side as your droopy eyes stare at him through the mirror. You chuckle at his actions, slumping completely onto the counter as you eased your heart rate.

“You okay?” He smiled at you as he lifted you back up “mhm” you nodded as he pulled you into a kiss.

Miguel grabbed some paper towels, turned on the sink, and cleaned you up. He cleaned himself up soon after, collecting his leftover seed and shoving it inside you with his fingers before putting on your panties “Make sure we don’t miss any” he cooed.

You stood up straight as he buttoned your jeans back up, you held yourself onto the counter as you watched him buckle his belt. “I need to fuck you in front of mirrors more”

You stood anxiously as the actions you both did sink in. You just fucked your boyfriend. In your boss's bathroom. Well, could you call him your boss? You didn’t know but you considered him one.

“Hope he heard all of it” Miguel chuckle as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder before pushing the door open. As soon as you walked into the hallway your eyes darted around, waiting for strange to appear and say something.

Both of you walked to the stairs, seeing Strange walking over awkwardly as Miguel smiled at him “We found the bathroom, thanks. Nice meeting you” Miguel cockily smiled as the both of you walked down the stairs.

“He knows you’re mine now”

Tag-list: @tati-the-fangirl @mxtokko @taleiak @zelzablues

[awhoreintheory]

Another idea with Peter in Gotham is his clones also ends up there as well.

In the comics Peter has two clones, three if you count the ultimate verse and the potential comedic value of Peter in Gotham and his clones also somehow ended up there as well??

Any batfam member: who were those three people you were with earlier?

Peter:... Those were my siblings, I'm a quadruplet

Dick who just found out Peter is his son: you're a what???

Idk I just think that scenario would be funny

Im challenging someone to find it, because I read ONE singular Peter in gotham fic with a similar idea, and I can't find it anywhere

That's how you know the ideas SLAPS.

Idc about the circumstances that leads Peter and his clones into Gotham, but pure crack ensues. How are you supposed to take anything seriously with 4 spider-man's flipping around, one of which is built like a brick shit house btw, causing mayhem, but also walking women to their cars? Stopping domestic disputes? Fixing a little kids broken school project?

It literally looks like a family of spiders is trying to make their home in a bats cave. It's funny, but also a little scary.

Now, Peter being Dick's son thrown into the mix? Chaos to the tenth degree. Maybe up until this point, spider-man hasn't been connected back to Peter, and they're also running around making different connections and working different jobs, so they're not seen in public together too often. Peter's working in the library with Barbara, who has already put together that this is Dick's God damn secret love child, right. Dick is slowly trying to ease himself into his kid's (his! His kid!) Life, slowly broach the topic of "hey... so, uh, have you ever thought about meeting your dad?"

Peter hums. "No, not really."

Dick winces, and Barbara offers a sympathetic pat when Peter looks away.

"Well, ok, a little awkward, but—"

The library door bursts open. A Peter lookalike comes in, holding a brown paper sack and a phone. "Can't believe you're somehow able to leave and forget your lunch and your phone. How have you even survived this long?"

"I haven't." Peter deadpans. They both laugh. Dick and Barbara's head swivel back and forth.

"And, uh, who is... this?" Barbara snaps out of her shock first. Peter's records didn't mention a sibling... then again, they were fake. Convincing fakes to the untrained eye, but nothing held up under The Barbara Gordon's scrutiny.

"My, uh, brother?" Peter raised an eyebrow, probably at his boss's weird reaction, and his boss's friend's horrified face.

But how could Dick not be horrified? The two teenagers in front of him were identical. Identical twins. He had two sons and he didn't even know about them. How does that not come up? No, no Dick should've done better research. Oh, god, he has twin sons.

"I didn't—" Dick's voice cracks embarrassingly. He clears his throat. "I didn't, uh, know you had a twin."

Peter's twin tilts his head, studying Dick.

"Actually, I'm a quadruplet!" Peter cheerfully rings, grinning ear to ear.

Dick's heart nearly gives out.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 13 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: you know the saying "it's gotta get worse before it gets better??" Well, that's true lol But enjoy the ride!

***

“You keep actin’ like it’s not a big deal! Like we can just wake up and get over it.” 

“I never said that!” Charlotte called over him, attempting to drown out his blatantly false words. as she angrily folded her arms. She flopped back into the soft cushions of Dr. Matthews’ couch, angrily folding her arms. “But I’m sick of him acting like I’m the problem for focusing on OUR future? Shaun is the past. We’re supposed to be planning a wedding? You proposed to me! Why is it wrong for me to focus on that and not the past??” 

“Well, I don’t know if that’s what Michael mea-” 

Michael did not even allow their therapist to finish her thought before he jumped back in, his anger rising.   

“I didn’t travel back in time and stumble into a bathroom to find him hurting you, Charlotte! It’s what? Almost the end of April so this happened six weeks ago?? He is very much our present and potentially part of the future. How can I just pretend that ain’t the case? He will be a threat to you until he’s in prison. And I’m not interested in being caught off guard again when he shows up for round two. And you know I’m right!” 

“I don’t know that actually!” 

“Sure. Lie to your family, Dr. Matthews, and yourself all you want but I see you, Charlotte. You haven’t moved on either. You’re just trying to ignore it so you don’t have to deal with it. So you don’t have to talk to me about it. Better to pretend this is somehow a normal everyday experience rather than just admit that it’s fucked up. You can say you’re fine all you want but I ain’t gotta pretend I believe it when I don’t.” 

“Oh right cause you’re the resident expert on being stalked and almost murdered? Remind me when that happened to you too??” she snapped sarcastically. “Exactly! So why do you think your opinion of my progress somehow matters more than the only person in this room with actual experience surviving this and him. You’ve got no idea what it’s like. I’ve been here. I’ve survived this and worse. So maybe I am actually fine because I know exactly what this feels like. You can’t hold it against me that I’m not a broken thing that needs you to swoop in and fix her!” 

“I don’t need to know what that’s like because I know you! And I’m not trying to fix you. Cause I don’t think acknowledging your pain means you’re broken. I do know that the last time you swore to me you were fine, he showed up at your rehearsal and then he bruised your ribs. And I knew, I fuckin’ knew, something was up before I left and I went anyway because you swore you were fine. Call me controlling o-or overprotective or annoying or whatever but at least you’ll be alive to be mad at me. Cause I sure as hell am not gonna make the same mistake ever again. You want me to chill out? Then start bein’ honest with me when shit isn’t fine and maybe I’ll start believing you when you say it is.”

“You act as if I just lie all the time?? In our entire relationship, I’ve kept one secret from you, made one more mistake! If you can’t forgive me for it, why are we even here??” 

“Maybe I could if it was just one mistake. I love you with my entire soul, fuck you’re my everything. But for whatever reason, your go-to is to keep shit like this from me. He showed up at your rehearsal and you said nothing. Had nightmares that were so bad, you got sick and you told me everything was just fine. He hit you and threatened you and you still lied to me when I asked you what was going on. Same thing with your arm the night of the premiere. Do you wanna tell Dr. Matthews how you got that brace on your wrist and how you tried to hide it from me or should I?” 

“This again!” Charlotte threw her free hand in the air as the one wrapped in a black brace stayed in her lap. “It’s a sprain and it was an accident. I didn’t tell you because of this - I knew you’d overreact and we’d be back where we were in March! And I was right. One accident and you acted like I was gonna fall apart. I wanted to celebrate, have fun and you overreacted and just wanted me to be sad all night. So much so that you couldn’t even see what I needed!” 

“Overreact?? Wow. How am I supposed to react to finding out I hurt you??” 

“YOU didn’t hurt me! I got hurt, there’s a difference. And the only person who was bothered was you. You know how many times I’ve been hurt? Concussions, bruised and broken ribs, carpet burns, regular burns, broken bones, cuts, hell, I bruised a kidney once. I’m a fuckin’ walking Grey’s Anatomy episode. I don’t need to send you a press statement everytime I’m hurt.”  

“You know that’s not what I want! But you could at least tell me so I can help. Otherwise, what use am I to you?” 

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Dr. Matthews interrupted the pair. “Enough. Both of you!” 

The couple had dissolved into a loud and biting vocal hurricane within five minutes of stepping into her Lower Manhattan office. Neither of them came ready for productive conversation but to unleash their frustrations onto a third party in hopes that she would convince the other that their side was the right one. 

“You just spent 10 minutes arguing and I doubt either of you even heard a single thing the other person said. Getting louder doesn’t ensure your point is heard, it just makes you loud. So let’s take a deep breath so we can actually have a conversation.” 

Charlotte took a few deep breaths before glancing at her fiance, guilt immediately surging as he jiggled his knee, a clear sign that he was upset. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her hand rubbing her forehead. “We d-don’t speak to each other like that. I’m just…” She glanced away from him as her voice trailed off. She did not know what she was but she knew nothing was as ok as she wanted it to be. As she wanted them to be. “Frustrated.” 

“I know…” he acknowledged, letting out his own deep breath to release some of his anger. “I’m sorry too.” 

“Ok good. I wondered when we’d finally get here. It took one session for me to see this argument brewing but I honestly thought you two would never get here. So amenable to other, willing to make surface-level changes that don’t address the root cause of your problems but unwilling to be vulnerable and say the hard things that would actually help you move forward. But like a lot of things, sometimes we have to take a couple steps back to reevaluate and move forward. So tell me what happened since our last session to get us here?” 

Dr. Matthews’ calming voice was a sharp juxtaposition to the red hot anger they both entered her office ready to unleash. She was not wrong, this argument was simmering since Charlotte got home from the hospital and had boiled over without warning. Charlotte had thought they were making small inroads to being back to normal but Dr. Matthews now challenged everything Charlotte believed about their progress. She was so frustrated at Michael for setting them back but maybe she had just put too much hope that their problems were an easy fix and wouldn’t require the thing she dreaded most: vulnerability. But the last 48 hours felt like God saying that neither of them could sustain that much longer. 

Charlotte sighed and glanced at Michael, his own shame wafting off of him.

“It really wasn’t a big deal. The other night…” 

“WRONG! He can’t be dead!” 

“Whatchu mean wrong?? We watched that nigga get stabbed eight times.”

“Yea we also saw dragons and zombies… you’re telling me that in a world of dragons and zombies, a nigga can’t come back to life?? What about Beric???” 

Michael laughed. “Doesn’t mean everybody can do it just cause he did?? And how would he even come back? The entire Night Watch against him, Red Woman’s nowhere to be found. That nigga cooked. Had a good run though,” he remarked as he pulled their dinner out of the oven. 

It was Charlotte’s night off from the show and the couple’s chosen date night. Their therapist had recommended setting aside the time each week to reconnect and focus on them. And Charlotte felt as if it was working, they were slowly but surely becoming them again. Perfect? No. But even their playful fighting over mundane tv plots was a new development. Fuck… just being playful at all was a glorious return to who they once were. Their relationship simply existed day to day with such an overcast of tension, the overbearing weight of life and death, that there was little space or energy to feel anything light. But the excitement of the day had turned tonight’s mood celebratory and fun, exactly what Charlotte needed to feel like herself again. 

“Wow. You have nooo faith. That man’s comin’ back, I know it. Also if you were really killing off a character, is that how you’d write it?? The whole ‘is your favorite character dead?’ season finale cliffhanger almost always ends with the character being alive.” 

“We talking about Thrones, Els! The show that killed off the main character in season 1 and most shows ain’t doing that shit. So I still haven’t heard one real reason he can’t be dead dead aside from the fact that you gotta crush on him.”

Michael loved egging her on when she put on her nerd hat. Mainly because he loved seeing her come alive in this way, as if this part of her had always been suppressed in relationships and her light just glowed when she was able to be her. 

 Charlotte turned and glanced over her shoulder as she made guacamole to accompany their homemade enchiladas. She placed her utensils down before walking over to wear he perched against the counter, too invested in their conversation to multitask. 

“I mean even you have to admit that Jon’s brooding demeanor is sexy??” 

“I’ll never admit that!” 

Charlotte almost doubled over in laughter at the incredulous look on Michael’s face. 

“Reasonable crush or not,” she struggled to say as she reigned in her laughter. “I know I’m right. Mark my words, by the end of episode 1, Jon Snow’ll be alive and kicking. His character arc isn’t over yet.” 

“Wanna place a wager about that, honey bee?” 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Sure… cause I know I’ll win,” she teased. 

“Loser has to give the winner massages, anytime requested, for a month.” 

“Two!” Charlotte interjected. She merely smirked. “What can I say? I’m feeling lucky today for some reason.”

“Oh for some reason? Could it be cause a certain actress, as of today, is now Tony-nominated Charlotte Bennett - soon to be Tony Award winning Charlotte Bennett-Jordan,” he amended with his perfect boyish grin that made her roll her eyes and giggle. 

“Maybe” she challenged with a modest look on her face. “Just… feeling inspired.”

 And the day had been inspired indeed as Charlotte woke up to the highly anticipated nominations announcement. Her first real shot at a lifelong dream, finally realized. When they said her name among the nominees for Lead Actress in a Musical, she felt the world stop on its axis. Everything she thought she had lost was hers again. 

Michael had been ecstatic for her, though not nearly as surprised by the news as she had been. If there was one person he would always bet on, it was his girl. And so they spent the entire day celebrating and Charlotte loved every moment of it. She had missed the version of Michael today brought out. Playful and silly, joking and laughing with her over mundane things, arguing with gusto about controversial storytelling opinions, going on tangents about his upcoming roles and his research. She missed his uninhibitedness, how he was unafraid to pull her into his arms, and be unrestrained. She just missed him. 

“Is that right?” he remarked as he reached for her, Charlotte playfully sliding out of his grasp so he could not catch her. 

Feeling emboldened by their return to some semblance of normalcy, she continued the game, giggling as she continued shifting out of his grasp as he reached for her. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them as he caught onto her game and soon they were in a full chase around the kitchen. 

Laughter filled the living room as they played their game of cat and mouse. By the time they were circling each other around the coffee table in the living room like opponents in the ring, Charlotte knew she was caught. She would have to concede and accept defeat, but she hoped that her capture would lead to a reignition of far more enjoyable games. 

She took off running by their couch, knowing Michael would grab her immediately and likely jokingly toss her onto it. However, as she rounded the corner, her foot caught onto the leg of their table, sending the clumsy actress hurling down to their carpet. She threw her arm out to break her fall, a searing pain shooting through her wrist as she landed on her stomach. 

She groaned as she lost her breath on the impact, immediately curling into a tight ball as the fall reignited a dull pain in her freshly healed ribs. She cradled her wrist against her chest as she tried to fill her lungs with air again.

“Fucking… idiot,” she forced out as breathing started to feel less like an Olympic task. 

“Shit! Baby, baby… Els. Talk to me, you ok??” 

She simply nodded as she used her good arm to lift herself up and turn around. 

“Yea, yea, I’m good. Just… annoyingly… clumsy,” she pushed out a chuckle as Michael helped her shift off the floor and onto the couch cushions. “As God… likes to remind me.”  

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, baby.” Charlotte was almost startled when she finally looked up at him, hovering above her. His eyes frantically searched her body for injury, his face blanched as if he had been startled by a ghost. His phone trembled in his hands as he rushed to unlock it. “Let me call your doctor… or… shit, your concussion just healed… Did you hit your head on anything?? We should get it checked anyway. Maybe I should just call an ambulance?? Gonna call an ambulance. Anywhere else hurt?? Your ribs? It didn’t get the same spot he… Probably wasn’t hard enough to bruise them but we should get it checked too… how’s you-” 

“Hey, hey, whoa. Slow down, baby,” she cradled the left side of his face, forcing him to slow down and go quiet for a moment. She could almost hear his heart hammering against his chest. “Take a deep breath, Bakari. I’m ok. Just a danger to myself and your expensive furniture,” she joked, hoping to calm him with humor, which didn’t work in the slightest. “Thank god I didn’t fall into the table. I know how much all this set you back. No need for doctors or ambulances. I promise. I’m good.” 

She bit down on her inner cheek to avoid the wince as one subtle movement let her know her wrist was, at best, sprained. She kept it limp by her side as Michael helped her to her feet. But the look on Michael’s face made her question whether sharing that now would only make things worse. So she said nothing at all. 

“I shouldn’t have chased after you like that. I should’ve moved faster when I saw you fall.” 

“We were having fun. We’re allowed, you know?” 

“Hurting you ain’t fun, Els. You’re hurt. Where?” 

“I hurt myself, you didn’t do anything. And I just hit the side of the table as I went down, I think. It hurts but will probably feel fine tomorrow. I’m ok, I swear.” 

“You sure?” She could see the disbelief in his eyes but she kept her face upbeat, ignoring the throbbing ache branching out from her wrist. 

“Yes,” she chuckled. “Now, can we go back to enchiladas and margs and debating the narrative choices of Game of Thrones? And celebrating the biggest day of my career? We still gotta pop that very expensive bottle of champagne Chris sent. Please? I’m really ok.” 

Her words convinced him to return to the kitchen where dinner waited. But they could not restore the carefree, celebratory aura they had 5 minutes ago. Instead, only that awful tension remained, leading to an uncomfortable silence that Charlotte could not break. 

Michael’s thoughts were no longer on their date night, but clearly preoccupied. Charlotte could almost see the wheels of guilt spiraling out in his brain. Her mildly funny dad jokes fell on deaf ears, her questions and prompts for conversation were met with silence or one word answers. Occasionally, she felt his eyes on her, studying her for signs of pain or discomfort. But thankfully, he found none and did not notice her first couple awkward bites using her nondominant left hand. 

She had every intention of telling him about her wrist once he calmed down but that moment never came. She tried to fight her way through the rest of the night, the couple even trying to catch up on a tv show together. But their usual vibrant commentary was silent as Charlotte stole worried glances at Michael and he did the same to her. 

She did not even understand how they got here. How he was this upset when the entire incident was her own fault. After all, what clumsy person thinks it’s smart to start a high-speed chase in their living room? She felt as if this was the best outcome she could have hoped for. 

“Michael… babe. You can’t just go silent on me,” she muttered grumpily, her frustration getting the better of her. “What’s wrong?” 

She had been doing as her therapist recommended, practicing understanding and grace as Michael navigated his emotions after everything. But as more time passed, she was simply too ready to move forward and growing frustrated with his lack of interest in doing so. He was stuck, firmly planted, and no amount of tugging on her part felt like it would get him out of it. 

The lack of intimacy in their relationship seeped into all aspects of their lives, including how they slept together. While they knew different rooms were simply too much distance for them, the furthest apart they could go were their separate corners of the bed. Charlotte tossed and turned most nights without her human weighted blanket draped over her. She understood the shift when her ribs were healing but he still held himself back from her, even after the all clear from her doctor. There were no playful touches or cuddling briefly before falling asleep, no more rolling away to cool off and Michael finding his way right back to her. They rolled to their corners after a chaste and subdued goodnight kiss before they both fell into restless sleep. 

But tonight, she supposed the distance worked in her favor, giving her space to gently elevate her wrist. She knew she would regret not icing it in the morning but somehow that seemed more inviting than opening that can of worms with Michael right before bed. 

“Just worried you aggravated your injuries or somethin’. You sure nothin’ else hurts? You can’t always tell right away?” 

She knew what she should have said. The truth. That she needed an ice pack and a doctor. But she didn’t. In that split second, she knew he would never let this go if he knew she was actually hurt. And she could not deal with that. It was just a sprain anyway, she reasoned. She had dealt with far worse. 

“I’m sure. Really. I didn’t fall off a ladder, I tripped. It’s fine. But if you’re gonna get stressed every time I fall, I’d rethink getting on this ride for life. You’ll be in for a hella stressful one.” Her tone was filled with amusement that finally did, minimally, tug at the corners of his lips. She leaned over and pressed another kiss to his cheek. “Accidents happen and I’m not made of glass. Now take a deep breath and get some rest. Love you.” 

She turned over and closed her eyes, hoping that her words would be enough. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew they would not be. 

But sleep was not something Michael would find tonight as he stared at the ceiling, wallowing in this stabbing guilt in his chest. He did not particularly want to be awake with his thoughts but he knew sleep was not a reprieve either. This monster, this fear chasing him and making him feel and behave in ways he knew were utterly irrational, haunted him every minute of every day. 

And all he knew was that he had to stay alert, stay ahead of it and protect his girl. Because the one time he wasn’t watching close enough, wasn’t listening or paying attention close enough, she got hurt. He would not let that happen ever again. 

***

Spring had officially settled into the New York City air but today, Charlotte was grateful for the lingering morning brisk that required long sleeves, praying it would hide the swelling on her wrist until she left for work. She grimaced and struggled to get her jacket on without moving her wrist much.  Some idiotic part of her had hoped it would magically feel better this morning. But that was dumb. So she was leaving a bit early to carve out time for an urgent care visit. But she knew Michael would never let it go if he found out. 

They had started to turn a new leaf and find their rhythm again. And Charlotte wanted to preserve that, not giving her fiance any more reasons to coddle her to death. Besides, Charlotte much preferred the old version of him to this one overprotective one. 

She turned it over in her head most of the night and decided that it didn’t serve them to make a fuss over something so small when it was clear Michael harbored some unfounded guilt. She’d get it fixed and pass it off as a rehearsal injury. No harm, no foul. 

Michael emerged from their bedroom with his work bag and shoes in tow as she finished putting on her coat.

“You ready?” He flopped down on the coach to put on his sneakers, Charlotte pausing with an eyebrow raised in confusion. 

“Where are you headed?” 

“With you.”

All good things must come to an end, she groaned to herself. She thought they had finally moved past him accompanying her to work every day like a guard dog. Some good things were simply too brief. 

“Michael… I thought we agreed you didn’t need to come with me anymore?” Her tone couldn’t hide her annoyance, and she didn't particularly care to. “I went to the theater by myself like a big girl all last week and was totally fine.”

“I’m not bothering anyone sittin’ in a theater watchin’ you practice, Charlotte.” 

“Yea no one except me,” she muttered just loud enough for him to hear. A wounded look crossed his eye for a moment that made her feel guilty. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude. I just thought… we were settling back into normal life again. I don’t need a babysitter when you pay for me to have a bodyguard anytime I leave this apartment. I’ll be fine.”   

“There’s nothing wrong with extra protection. You need it. At least till he’s in prison.” 

“I don’t actually. I can handle it.” 

“No, you can’t.” 

Charlotte paused, slowly turning in surprise as silent frustration morphed into roaring anger. “Excuse me? Who are you to decide that?” She paused. “Wait, wait, wait. Is this still about last night??”

“Nah.” 

“You sure? Cause you were fine before last night and now you’re back to being unnecessarily overprotective.”

“I don’t think it’s unnecessary.” 

“Why?? Cause I tripped over my own feet? I’m gonna get hurt, injure myself and you can’t freak out like this everytime. I’m a magnet for accidents who bruises like a fruit. I’m fine. You can’t keep acting like we’re still at DEFCON1. We’re not. Things are getting back to normal, can’t we just enjoy that? Please? For me?” 

He studied her for a moment before nodding softly, throwing his bag down on the couch. She closed the space between them and kissed him softly on his cheek. 

“Thank you. I am heading to the theater. I’ll call you when I get there. Love you.” Not thinking, she went to grab for her discarded bag with her injured arm before the pain forced her to awkwardly change course and use her other hand. She started to move toward the elevator when she heard his voice stop her. 

“Wait! There something wrong with your arm?” Michael’s voice reached her as she was pressing the elevator button to the lobby.  

“No, why?” She was so close. Literally steps away. How had she fucked this up? 

“Because I saw you strugglin’ to put your jacket on and you just avoided using that arm like you couldn’t. And now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you move it all morning.”

“Jesus… you get trained by the CIA at some point or something?” 

“Charlotte. I’m serious. What’s wrong with your arm?” 

“Nothing, Michael.” 

“You’re really gonna lie to my face right now? Ok… Move it.”

“Michael…” 

“Charlotte.”

She could always tell when Michael was serious, when he did not want to be trifled with. It was just rare that he had to direct that tone at her. But hearing it now, she felt resigned. She would have to tell him the truth and she could already tell.. 

This was going to fucking suck. 

“Ok fine. I tried to break my fall last night and my wrist hurts a bit. It’s nothing.”

“Fuck, Charlotte!” He closed the space between them quickly, only pausing when he noticed the almost unnoticeable jerk of her body away from him. He could tell she started to flinch but caught herself, not that that made it hurt any less. He held his hands out as he took the last couple of steps to her side. He gently reached for her arm, pushing her sleeves out of the way to find her wrist swollen and red. “It’s sprained or broken. Why didn’t you tell me last night?? I asked you hella times if you were hurt. I knew we should’ve gone to the hospital o-or called a doctor.” 

“That’s why I didn’t tell you!” She cried out in frustration as she watched the love of her life turn into this person she did not even recognize. “Because I knew you’d lose it. I knew you’d force me to spend the night in the ER regardless of what I wanted. I’m tired of you coddling me like I can’t make decisions, Michael!” 

“So cause you’re mad at me… you lied to me? Again??? After you promised you wouldn’t do that shit again.” 

Charlotte scoffed. “It’s hardly the same thing! This was literally nothing! A few weeks in a brace and I’m fine. So yes, I omitted a minor injury so you wouldn’t feel the need to take control! So you wouldn’t focus 100% of your attention on every stage of healing of my wrist or whether a fall triggered PTSD somehow. I have this under control and handled. I don’t need help. I. am. Fine. I don’t know why you aren’t listening to me when I say that.” 

“Maybe because had I listened to you the last time you said that, I would’ve come back from LA to plan your funeral!”

Charlotte’s comeback died in her throat as his words caught her off guard. She didn’t think about… that. It was a simple statement of fact. But she didn’t really dwell on it, how close she came to losing everything, how she only survived because someone else was there to save her. That she would have died as the woman he created - weak and broken - and not the person she believed she fashioned herself into. 

No, those were truths Charlotte had no interest in dealing with. So she forced her reaction to remain neutral, ignoring the ache in her chest that had nothing to do with physical pain. 

“So you’re just gonna hold that against me for the rest of our relationship? Just never believe me o-or take my word for anything ever again?”

“No but-” 

“Cause that’s what it’s starting to feel like.”

“It wouldn’t if you were just honest! I’m trying to help you.” 

Charlotte took a deep breath before turning to hit the button on the elevator door. 

“Ok… Honesty… Well, honestly, I’m getting a little tired of being called a liar when all I’m trying to do is help us. Honestly, I’m not sure how you expect me to be vulnerable when you aren’t listening to me. Honestly, I’m tired of convincing the man I love that I’m not gonna fall apart every second because he can’t stop treating me like I’m gonna fall apart every fucking second. Honestly, I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only person trying to move past this. And honestly, today, I don’t want your help. Because reminding me with every look and action that I’m a victim when all I want is to continue celebrating the biggest accomplishment of my career isn’t helping me. It’s just more of what everyone else in my life does. And honestly, I’m. Tired. Of. It.” 

She punched the elevator button hard, a soft chime letting her know it arrived almost instantaneously. Thank God. 

“So, want any more honesty for today or are we good?”  

“That’s not wha-” 

“I have an interview in 20 minutes and I can’t be late.” She cut him off, pressing the elevator button in rapid succession as if that would conjure it faster. “See you tonight.” 

And with that, Charlotte stormed out, leaving Michael alone with his frustrations and guilt. Charlotte was rarely angry at him but he could tell she was reaching a new height of frustration. But he did not know how to stop. Even standing there, equally as pissed off at her as she was with him, all he wanted to do was rush after her to go with her to work. He could be pissed and still protect her, right? 

He despised the fact that she claimed he was not hearing her. He was listening, far more intensely than she realized. Which is how he knew that all was not well for her, how he knew she needed the extra support even if she did not want to admit it. 

And then to find out that she kept something significant from him again. Had he not proven to her that he was going to be present? And protect her from every threat? Did she not consider him capable of fixing her problems, of helping her? That made him only want to prove himself more, prove he could protect her from anything that came her way. 

But he didn’t know how to get her to see that he was doing what he had to protect her, to not fail her again.  

“Wow. Ok… a lot to unpack there,” Dr. Matthews muttered. “Charlotte, did you mean what you said? About him not helping you?” 

“Well… kind of? At the moment, yes. He’s been helpful in a lot of ways, don’t get me wrong. And I love him for it. It’s just… I lied because… I mean shit, I just wanted one day. One day to not be a survivor or victim or be reminded that Shaun tried to ruin yet another thing in my present. In fact, I wanted to celebrate that even though he tried to ruin this for me, I still came out on top. But it’s like - and I don’t even think he’s doing it on purpose, which it’s been so hard to tell him - Michael can’t not remind me of it. It’s in every look, every touch, every decision. It’s like all he sees is the broken woman on that bathroom floor. And I don’t want to be made to feel like her when she’s dead and buried.”

“Michael, do you hear what Charlotte’s saying?” 

“Yea, and I understand it but… what else am I supposed to do?? What if he comes back? What if he attacks her again? I need to be there to protect her.” 

“He’s not gonna come back!”

“You don’t know that! Did you think he was gonna basically change his job so he could get closer to you? I’m not gonna underestimate that nigga… ever again.” 

“Oh and I did? I underestimated the man I slept next to for years? I’m the only one here who actually knows what he is capable of!” 

“Clearly you did if you thought you could take him on yourself.” 

“Right because I’m just a weakling who needs big strong men to swoop in and save her at every turn because I got hurt once?” 

“It wasn’t on-”  

“Okay okay, once again, deep breaths. Whew… the soul mates ones are always the most intense. Can’t even get a word in in my own office,” Tanya remarked. “Ok, you want to know what I hear? Two people who, despite their immense love and adoration for each other, aren’t actually ready to be vulnerable with each other. And without that, you’ll never understand the other person’s perspective because you’ll never have the full story and you’ll keep bumping heads.” 

“We know how to be vulnerable?” Charlotte argued back. “I mean even telling Michael what happened to me in the first place, sharing that was me being vulnerable.” 

“It was and that’s brave and admirable. I don’t doubt that you two have had moments where you offer vulnerability. But this situation you find yourselves in is unique and trauma, our fears, are often the hardest to share with others. I think you both are acting from a fear-based place and that’s understandable but you’ll never be able to move forward. Instead, you’ll just keep holding tight to behaviors you both know don’t serve you or your relationship.” 

“I’m not scared,” Charlotte remarked. “Maybe this would be easier if I was… at least then his behavior would be understandable.” 

“We all have fears, Charlotte. And I do think there’s a reason you opt for dismissing and lying about your own pain as if it’s insignificant. And it could just be an ingrained behavior but I think you need to ask yourself if there’s another reason you don’t trust the foundation of this relationship enough to be honest with Michael when things aren’t going well. And Michael, getting worked up to the point of distress over simple injuries, not being able to let your partner out of your sight… that’s not healthy or sustainable for either of you. And that’s more than general anxiety. And in our first session, you admitted that to us both. So ask yourself why you’ve reverted to something you know doesn’t work? Whatever the reasons are, I can help you both navigate all of it. But you’ve gotta be honest with yourselves and me about the reasons behind it. Until you’re ready to share with each other how that night changed you and your relationship, you’re just gonna keep having this argument until you break. And I don’t think either of you really want that?” 

The both of them shook their heads, her words were harsh but they both knew there was a ring of truth to them. 

“Okay good. So homework for this week is to do just that. Sit with yourselves, really sit with everything the other person said today and try to examine it. Not from a defensive posture like you’ve been doing but like you know the other person loves you and has your best interests at heart. And figure out the why behind your behavior. Keep asking why until you drill down to whatever is truly bothering you. Then… I don’t care when or how, whether you wait till our next session or do it while you’re alone, you’re gonna have to tell the other person your why. And to be honest… it’s gonna suck. But that’s the only way you’re gonna make it to the other side of this. Sound good?”

Charlotte glanced over to Michael who gave her a slight nod. He reached across the cushions and gave her hand a squeeze. 

“Sounds good.”  

***

Michael glanced over at Charlotte, her deep brown eyes set with sadness and far away from him as she changed out of her costume. He would have been more worried if that look had not been a staple in her eyes since their therapy session a few days prior. Whether it was the lingering silence and coldness between them or the reflection Dr. Matthews tasked them with, he did not know. But he knew one thing: he hated it. 

And as much as he knew it would suck, he was ready to do his part to end that. Whether or not he felt as if he was doing the right thing, his time reflecting made him realize that if Charlotte did not agree, he was doing the complete wrong thing. He didn’t have to sit with himself long to understand his why, understand what fears had him in a tight vise grip. As much as he dreaded saying it out loud, part of him dreaded an endless stream of sleepless, lonely nights even more. 

He missed his honeybee. His Els. He missed who they were before Shaun waltzed back into their lives. And he knew some of it was on him. He could not force Charlotte to trust him again, but he could be a better listener so he could show up however she needed when she asked… not when he decided she needed him.  

“Wanna grab dinner nearby tonight? Instead of heading home?” 

“Not really up for it. Been a long day.” 

He bowed his head, nodding slightly. “Neither am I,” he admitted. “But I think we gotta try.” 

He knew he was asking a lot of her after the days they had. They had whiplash going from the highest of highs to a low so low, it felt as if they couldn’t climb their way out. But he wouldn’t lose her and he wouldn’t allow him to break them. So they would try. 

And soon they found themselves in a near-deserted 24 hour diner next to the theater, Charlotte stopping in her tracks when he went to open the front door.

“You wanna eat here?” 

“Yea I know it doesn’t look like much andd I definitely saw a mediocre health rating when I was here earlier but well, I had a whole reason. We can go somewhere else though.” 

Charlotte shook her head. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s just… God is funny, I guess.” 

“What do you mean?” Michael asked as they situated themselves in a booth at the very back of the restaurant. Michael sat with his back to the door, not his preferred arrangement but he wanted to minimize the chance of a random stranger recognizing them. 

“I’ve been here before… when I left Shaun.” She pointed to a worn out booth on the other side. “Sat right in that booth over there with Jazz and it was the first time I admitted to anyone what was going on. We sat here for hours, drinking terrible cheap coffee and she saved my life. Just telling her, saying it out loud, gave me the confidence I needed to do what I had to. A week later, Shaun was at a bachelor’s party in Vegas and I was gone. Shocked it's still standing. How’d it catch your eye?” 

“Came in here yesterday during the show and… reflected. Over about 6 plates of greasy fries and cheap terrible coffee.”

“Oof, reflection. I guess that explains the six plates of fries huh?” she joked with a light teasing smile that made him chuckle. “Seems like that’s our needed reflection fuel” she remarked as the lone waitress came to take their order. Once she returned to the diner counter, Charlotte continued. “And what did you learn?” 

“My why.” 

“And are you ready to tell me?”

“Yes but then… if you’re ready, I need yours. Because I think you know yours already too?” 

“How’d you know?” He knew her far too well.  

“Cause you would’ve tossed and turned even more than usual the last few nights if you didn’t. That genius brain of yours would’ve never let you sleep.” He teased back at her, Charlotte laughing lightly. 

“I don’t know if I like how well you know me.” 

“I do… know you. And I see you, Els. So I know I’ve been overbearing and probably annoying, Charlotte. And I’m sorry for how that made you feel, like you weren’t being heard and I never want you to feel that way with me again. But you aren’t being honest with me or yourself and I can’t move on till you are.” 

“You’re right,” she admitted. “You’re… absolutely right. I haven’t been and I know why. I just… it’s not even admitting it to you. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, really. So let’s agree… no judgments, no anger, no arguing… Just our ridiculously painful reflections and ugly truths laid out in a rundown crappy diner. My future is with you and there’s no future here if we can’t talk about the hard shit. So… let’s talk” 

“Ok I’m in.” 

“Pickers of the terrible diner first,” she smiled half heartedly, turning the table over to him. Her hands wrapped around the warm mug the waitress dropped off moments earlier. 

Michael sighed, his eyes trained on the cast on her arm for a few moments. Charlotte’s eyes widened as she saw his eyes brim with tears. He glanced away from her, sniffling a bit to stop them from spilling over. She reached across the table and grasped his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Bakari… baby. It’s just me. Just the two of us. You’ve been so strong for me our entire relationship and I love you so much for it. But you also have to trust me to be vulnerable, trust that I can be strong for you too. Talk to me. No matter what you say, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Michael nodded, internally working up the courage before he just decided to jump. Head first into it. That was always their way anyway, just leaping into what felt right and safe. And they had yet to crash and burn. They wouldn’t this time either. 

“A couple days after everything, I had this… dream. We were back in LA, married, livin’ together at the house. We h-had kids. Two boys, I think. I mean you would’ve thought time just sped up or something, it was so real. Everything I want for us, you know?” 

“It sounds perfect. I’m guessing it didn’t end that way though?” 

The back of his hand brushed away an escaped tear. 

“Nah, it didn’t. I came home and you were there. And so was Shaun,” he paused, his hand squeezing hers a bit before he continued. “He had a gun and he just voiced every guilty feeling living in my head. How I prioritized a fuckin’ movie role over you, how I went to LA even though I knew something wasn’t right. How you almost died and I could’ve been too late. How you probably think I’m like him when you flinch away or get scared of me. And the worst part was you agreed with all of it. You screamed at me for failing you.” 

“Michael, you gotta know I-” 

“J-just let me get this out, Els.” He sniffled and took a deep breath before continuing, “I woke up as he pulled the trigger and I freaked out for a minute. I’d just never had a dream feel so real. I reached and still there, and you flinched away from me. And it… fuck, it killed me, Els. It felt like God affirming everything I thought, all the ways I’d failed you. You didn’t trust me anymore, didn’t see me as safe. And every time I hear you cry in the shower because you think I can’t hear you o-or diminish your pain as if I shouldn’t care or act as if you aren’t worth being taken care of and protected, it reminds me that I can’t fail you again. I can’t afford to fail you again. I know I’ve been overprotective but I just… I can’t stop looking over our shoulders for him. Terrified I’m going to miss the signs again and this time, I’ll lose you.” 

Charlotte’s heart broke a bit at his words. Why had she not considered this? She thought he put all of his guilt and blame to rest but to know he had been harboring it for so long, everything made so much more sense. And she felt like the world’s biggest idiot. 

“Hey. Look at me,” she demanded, not speaking until his expressive eyes were trained on hers. “There hasn’t been a single day since I met you that you’ve failed me. I d-don’t need you to try and prove you’re my safe place or that you can protect me. You just are that by existing, by loving me and showing up for me. And yea… it might take some more time for my body to catch up, but that isn’t on you. That’s on me for not dealing with it. And PTSD is just a fucking bitch,” she chuckled, causing the deep creases of his frown slack a bit. “But I don’t blame you, not then or now. I lied to you, Michael.” 

“But I should’ve-” 

“Should’ve what? Been a mind reader? Sacrificed a job on a hunch? That’s not a fair expectation for yourself, baby. Nor would I have ever wanted or expected you to miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime for me. I don’t need a savior, I just need you to be there as best you can. And even when I didn’t realize how much I needed you, you did and came back for me. How could I ever think a man who sees me as clearly as that is a failure?”  

“You asked me to move here to protect you. And I didn’t. And now he’s back out there and I need to know you’re safe until he isn’t a threat to you anymore. You were gone for five minutes, Els. That was all it took. And now, it feels like if you’re out of my sight for long, I just spend the time on the verge of a damn panic attack.” 

“I asked you to come with me to make me feel safe, to love me, and support me. Not to be a bodyguard. And that’s what you’ve done and more. You know what I love about how you love me?” 

“What?” 

“You’ve always seen me. Every little detail, every word, every oddity and intricacy. You see everything and your love has always reflected that, has always been exactly what I needed. But you can’t love me like that if you can’t see me. And you can’t see me fully if you’re always looking over my shoulder for him.” 

“And if he comes back around? What then?” 

“Then we deal with him. I know he could come back and there’s not much I can do about it. The only thing I can do is not waste my time, our time, waiting for him to knock on our door. He can’t be our anchor, holding us in one spot when we need to move forward. What kind of life would that be for us? I never felt like I could win against him but this made me realize that I win every day by thriving. He tried to hurt me on the opening night of my show and in June, I could potentially win a Tony for that show while he waits to go to prison. That feels like victory in some way to me. And I can live with that. I can live every day knowing that every time he’s shown up, I’ve just come out on the other side stronger and better for it. I could waste my life waiting around for him or I can live it. And I just need to live my life. And we just have to be us. And more than anything, I just want us back.” 

“I want us back too. But I can’t do that if you aren’t even being honest about how you’re feeling and what you need.” 

She sighed. “So I guess it’s my turn, huh?” 

She stared at him for a few moments before saying, “When I left New York, he had taken everything. My identity, self-esteem, personhood. He took it all and left me with the scraps. And for a while, even with the entire country between us… I still lived in terror of him. Afraid of my shadow, afraid to speak without permission… to look people in the eye. I could put on the character of Charlotte to perform for a couple hours a night or for a day on set but what he created was just a shell of a person. And I hated myself for it.” 

Charlotte glanced out of the window at the cars rushed past them, the city that never sleeps indeed. 

“And eventually I put myself back together and I said he’d never break me again… never take that power again.” 

She glanced over to him. “And then he showed up here a-and I realized that terror wasn’t gone… I just let it go so quiet that I forgot it was there. And the moment I saw him, it was like I was that broken girl all over again. When he hit me, while I laid on the ground apologizing to him, you know what he said? ‘There she is… the real Charlotte.’ Like he knew I had dressed up the shell all pretty and different but on the inside? I was… am still hollow… still his broken scared plaything who couldn’t fight him.” 

Michael’s heart broke at how despondent her voice sounded. But as hard as it was for her to admit that, he could not pretend he was not glad she did. This was easily the most honest Charlotte had been with him in their entire relationship, the most revealing about her own insecurities and pain. And regardless of what it took to get there, he knew what a monumental step forward this was. 

He doubted therapy would do much for them, or him individually, at the beginning but Dr. Matthews seemed to hit a home run yet again. 

“But you did fight back, Els. You fought him.” 

“I fought him because of you. Because I saw you in the crowd. Because you came back for me. And I should’ve told you that. You’ve spent almost two months believing you failed me when you saved my life twice that night. I fought and without you, I would’ve lost. I dunno, I guess I just didn’t want to admit that when it comes to him, I’ll always be broken? I’ll always be hollow. And that felt like admitting that all that work and healing to create the woman you fell in love with, the woman I was finally proud of, was a lie. And why would you want to be with a shell? And everytime you treated me like this fragile broken flower, it just felt like you were agreeing that I hadn’t changed too? And that just made me want to prove that I had.”

“Honey bee… You really believe that? That you’re a shell?” 

She shrugged. “What else am I supposed to think? I worked so hard and when I had the chance to show him that I was different, I froze until I knew there was someone bigger and stronger to help me.”

“You wanna know what I believe?” 

“Always.” 

“I think you gotta start giving yourself more grace, baby girl. To survive what you have and be where you are today? You didn’t need me or Jazz or Lauren or Jackson or anyone else to do that, that’s just you. And I’m not even talking about your insane roster of accomplishments. You’re light, baby. I mean literal light, you lighten up every room you walk into, people gravitate toward you in a way I’ve never seen. No one would blame you for being jaded or hardened but you aren’t. You laugh loudly and love hard. You aren’t hollow, Els. You’re overflowing with life and love and light. That’s strength. And acknowledging how he hurt you, how it still hurts you, doesn’t diminish that.” 

“I don’t want to acknowledge that version of me, Michael. Especially not with you. This isn’t a part of me I ever wanted you to see. Didn’t think… you could love me the same if you saw how broken I am. I guess that’s why I’ve also been pretending like I’m fine. Dealing with all this and being open about it… I don’t wanna turn you off.” 

“I wanna see it though, Els. I need to understand you, to support you. I’d marry you tomorrow if we could. You thought it’d be this easy to get rid of me?” 

“Falling into a million pieces after a stalking ex felt like it would be enough? You must really be in love with me then?” Though she meant it as a statement, he could hear the question in her words, her intonation spelling out her doubts. 

“No number of stalking exes could make me fall outta love with you. And there’s no reaction you could have, no number of nightmares or whatever that would do it either. I ain’t going anywhere. I love you and I should be supporting you the way you need it, not however I think is right. I knew that and I still haven’t been doing it and I’m sorry for that.” 

As they talked, Charlotte felt lighter than she had since Shaun waltzed back into her life. Unburdening all of her fears and actually talking to Michael made her feel like they could actually take a step forward, even if it was a series of baby steps. 

“Thank you and I can’t promise that tomorrow I’ll just be an open book. But I promise to try harder to be. I used to have to hide everything from everyone. No one knew the real story cause if I was honest, everything would fall apart and I thought I’d lose everyone. And I guess I convinced myself that going at it alone is the only way to avoid that? And this made me realize that… that’s all I know how to do. But I know I can’t go at it alone all the time and I shouldn’t. Our love was built to withstand a lot more than I give it credit for. So I will try harder and be more honest about how I’m feeling with you. Keeping things from you isn’t right, regardless of the reason. And you deserve better than that. I’m sorry too.” 

“Apology accepted. I know it won’t be easy for either of us, I ain’t expecting that. Let’s just promise that everyday, we’ll try?” 

“That I can do.” Charlotte studied him for a moment before getting up and scooching into the booth next to him. 

She threw caution to the wind and pressed her lips to his. The first second was tentative, as if she was mentally prepared for his sudden rejection. But instead he merely encouraged her, a gentle hand cradling her neck in an effort to bring her closer. And she leaned into it, savoring the renewed intimacy between them. All was not perfect and there was still work to do but she realized that with Michael, she didn’t need perfection. She just needed him. 

She only broke their intimate moment when she remembered they were most certainly in a public place. It hadn’t felt like it but she often felt like, when she was focused on Michael, everyone and everything around them melted away. But she also didn’t want a photo on the shade room tomorrow of them making out in a random diner. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For being here and loving me.” 

“Always, Els.”   

***

Michael let out a deep content sigh as he found himself back in his favorite sleeping spot, his face buried in the nook of her neck. 

“Fuck I missed this.” 

“Me too… you’re a really good weighted blanket.” 

“Damn, that’s all I’m good for??” 

Charlotte made a face as if she was contemplating his other qualities. “Yea… that and other fun bedtime activities,” she offered with a joking smile. 

“Say the word and I can show you just how good I am at those activities too.” 

“Not tonight. But only cause I know you’re gonna wanna make up for lost time and I want us to actually stay awake for it.” 

“I’d prefer you be awake too,” he muttered sleepily, the late hour starting to get to him. 

Charlotte could feel the tell-tale signs of Michael starting to drift off but despite the late hour, she found her brain unwilling to turn off as she thought about them. And how lucky she was to be with him. Weeks of disagreement and strife but they still found their way back to each other, found safety and refuge to reveal their fears and actually come closer together after so much time apart. 

If asked, Charlotte wasn’t sure she could find the words to articulate the love she had for this man and the love she felt from him. She never believed she would find this - someone who loved her so deeply, so purely. Someone whose love didn’t hurt. Who loved her scars she saw as ugly and the parts of her that she hid from the world, the parts that were barely bandaged together. For some unknown reason, he did. And he chose every day to love her through it all. 

The painful stinging of tears behind her eyes hit her as she sniffled. This is what hope and excitement about the future felt like, something that before Michael she rarely felt. Because regardless of what happened with her career or anything else, she couldn’t wait to build her life with him. This love was light and everything she hoped for but didn’t believe she deserved. And for the first time since the incident, she wasn’t scared to lose it. She no longer felt like she was watching their love story in fear of the end, but that she was watching it blossom. Because this was just the beginning of their story. 

“You good?” he asked as she sniffled quietly, lifting his head to find her eyes glistening in the dark with tears. “What’s wrong, honey bee??” 

“Nothing, nothing. These are happy tears, I think. I just… Marry me.” 

Michael let out a confused chuckle. “I know it was a crazy few days back then but you remember I already did this right? Proposed?” 

She reached over and turned on their bedside lamp, Michael shifting so she could sit up. 

“Yessss I know. I’m not reproposing. I’d never propose to a man, goes against my religion. I’m saying… Marry me… now. Well, not now as in here,” she amended quickly. “I mean, we’re in bed and we don’t have a marriage license but I don’t wanna wait.” 

“Els… don’t say that shit if you don’t mean it. It’s been a long few days, an emotional few months. We don’t gotta rush if you aren’t ready…”

Michael did not want to get ahead of himself or too excited, worried that she was swept up in the emotions of the day. After all, deciding to get married right away was something he would usually suggest, not her. She has always been the more cautious one where they were concerned. But he could not deny that if she was serious, she would be making him the happiest man on this planet. He was so ready to be her husband, to vow to love her for the rest of his days. He was dreading the year+ it would likely take to find the right time for a wedding given their schedules. He had bounced around ideas of smaller, intimate destination weddings in the fall but they hadn’t found the right fit yet.  

“I’m not rushing. I can see how it looks like that but this isn’t rushing. And I know we still have shit to figure out. I just… It’s gonna sound cliche but whatever time I have with you, whatever time I have to love you and be loved by you? I don’t want to waste it. I don’t wanna wait 3 or 4 months till we’re back in LA or however long it’ll take to plan some big wedding I don’t need. You’ve never wasted our time, Bakari. You’ve always been so sure and moved with that assurance. And I’ve never felt rushed by any of it, it’s always just felt right. And this? I feel sure, it feels right. We could wait if you want to, I’ll totally understand. I know this is literally insane. But I’m ready to be your wife, to build a life with you. I’m ready for our next step and I think you are too? Maybe?” 

At his silence, she added. “And it doesn’t have to be a big thing. We can go to the courthouse for all I care.” 

Silence. 

“Say something… please. Before I pray that God let’s the ground swallow me whole from embarrassment.” 

“My bad my bad. I was trying to find the words but then got offended at you thinking I’m gonna give you a courthouse wedding like we’re two teens trying to hide a pregnancy or some shit.” 

“What?? There’s nothing wrong with a courthouse wedding.” 

“Nah there isn’t but what about your family?? Mine? You don’t know how happy this makes me. And I’m all in without hesitation. But you deserve a special day, not a drive by at the courthouse. Give me 30 days, Els. Memorial Day weekend in LA, let me make it special for you.” 

Charlotte transitioned to sitting up on her knees before literally catapulting herself into his arms with pure excitement. Michael had to roll a bit to make sure they didn’t topple right off the bed. 

“We really doing this?? We’re getting married in 30 days?” 

“Yea! I can’t wait to be your wife, Bakari. Besides, you were right, Tony award winning Charlotte Bennett-Jordan has a far better ring to it.” 

“Fuck I love you so much,” his heart could’ve exploded into a million pieces in his chest. There was work to be done but they’d do it together, every day for the rest of their lives. And he couldn’t wait. 

“I love you more.” 

“Impossible.” He stared down at her, licking his lips as his eyes filled with lust. “You awake enough now for me to show you just how much?” 

Charlotte squeezed her legs together as his deep baritone reignited that feeling in her core. His lips searched for her weak spot on the side of her neck, caressing and sucking with the skill of a God. Fuck, it had been too long. But something stopped her. 

“I want you… so bad. But what if we wait until the wedding?” At his incredulous expression, she added, “You know, think about how much more special it’ll be after we’ve reconnected more emotionally after all this, our first time back in a while as husband and wife. It could be really special. What do you think?” 

Michael knew in his brain that she was right, it would be more special and intense after a long bout of celibacy. But the smaller head that controlled some of his decision making… was less than thrilled. 

So he immediately got out of bed and started to walk toward the bathroom. 

“Ok we haven’t had sex in weeks, 30 more days couldn’t have upset you that much??” she called out after him, her surprise clear in her tone. 

Michael turned as he reached the door, smiling his superstar boyish grin at her. “I’m not mad, I’m in. I’m just… gonna jump in the shower.” 

Charlotte doubled over in laughter at him. “Let me guess, a cold one?” 

“Ice cold. You shouldn’t be so irresistible, honey bee.” 

“You’re a mess,” she smiled at him. But he was her mess. And she loved him for it.  

“Maybe but fair warning, you won’t be tapping out that night.” 

She smiled. “As if I’d ever tap out on you. I guess we’ll be sleeping in separate corners tonight again?” 

“We’ll see how effective this cold shower is.” 

She let out a belly laugh as she flopped back into their warm covers and he started the shower. She could hear a girlish shrill noise a few moments later that she suspected was him stepping into the freezing water. She had to use their duvet to muffle the sounds of her giggles as she listened to him mutter expletives as he adjusted to the water temperature. 

“You good in there? Sounds like someone’s dying?” she called loudly over the water, deciding that she couldn’t not tease him for this. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep??” 

She rolled her eyes with a grin and turned over to try to fall asleep, leaving her future husband to his needed activities. There would be quite a few cold showers and long runs in their future. For the next 30 days at least.

Taglist: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh @passionxwrites @gopaperless @injerafiend @ari17

***

A/N: I realized that the last time I updated the main story was like December lol my sweet OG babies... But they're getting married!! I really wanted to explore their recovery and hang ups before moving them forward. The next chapter is their wedding and then our final chapter (can you guess what night that'll be? lol) drop a comment and let me know what you thought!

[yingdu-lover]

Cause I got nothing to lose : Xia Fei, my new hero in Link Click

before any serious shit wrecks havoc I want to ramble a bit

oh my god, I love xia fei. I mean I knew I would love him but that was for a different reason. He is probably gonna die in the near future, probably lu guang's action triggering his death (or he may not die at all! maybe he survives in this timeline, changing a major node! I hope, I hope), he is already a struggling student economically helpless abroad, his 'Emma' vibes are strong, he assures his worrying mother even though he goes through financial hardships. He is smart enough to know he is being exploited (and tbh the theme of surveillance and making him the 'morbid' object of gaze, I say morbid because in the last scene of his pv, it's a dead shot, his eyes look so dead, the camera's battery is dead. But yk what remains? his face card. The like button continually popping with likes made me very uncomfortable. The cinematography, symbolism and metaphor- link click's visual storytelling just never ceases to amaze.) Also how him being a model is not due to his passion, he desperately needs this money to survive (sounds familiar?)

But really...link click was really link clicking when we got xia fei's first appearance. Subtle social commentary at its finest. Not a woman, but a man is being made fun of for his astronomical career growth in exchange for supposed 'sexual favours'. Those ladies were not, in fact, subtle about it. I'll dive deeper into Xia Fei's psychology later but this encounter shows the harsh reality of the entertainment industries, mostly for those who did not join for passion but rather who had no choice.

Also the scene where his roommate. Man. It's important to address how 'casually' harassment can happen and an AMAB person can be a victim too. Anyway when the roommate tells him about ' the gig that pays quick money and they would like a hottie like you!' I couldn't help but flinch, I understand his rage. Of course, it's again insinuated to be something sexual. That's the first impression Xia Fei also has.

His pv is translated as 'lending body' or 'lending skin', ik it may have multiple meanings but one of them is very prominent.

Selling your face. Or maybe selling your body.

The way the camera fixes its gaze on Xia Fei continually, it's not really for fanservice merely. He is this object people ogle at. (and the way liu xiao and vein ogle at him in his pv makes me sick nvm). Even though it's his own body and beauty that makes him famous, he has no autonomy whatsoever. He realises it. That's why he says

Cause I have got nothing to loose

I don't really think link click is about time traveling. It's that archtexual exercise that constantly subverts genres at its level best. You know what, defamiliarise, many people do not like uncool stuff, for example : issues struggling young people actually face in real life, in this late stage capitalism. That's why link click should not reach that demographic of people. I hope it never does. I hope it gets famous within a community who actually understand and resonate with this show.

Also Xia Fei's story talks about another important theme of the donghua; photo! How photos taken in private spheres are meant to preserve memories of the loved ones, loved encounters. How you capture someone you love in that still image, alive with the emotion you associate with them, giving it an afterlife. The photo becomes the literal and metaphorical medium through which Lu Guang can rewrite history. Forget-me-not, remembrance. It empowers him.

On the contrary, for Xia Fei, it is the panopticon seizing his life and rendering it absurd. The emotive power and affect for lu guang changes into viscous institutionalised power politics for Xia Fei. Brilliant! 😭

I can't help but quote a few lines from a poem by Ama Codjoe

On Seeing and Being Seen

I am touching the photograph of my last seduction. It is as slick as a magazine page, as dark as a street darkened by rain.

When I want to remember something beautiful, instead of taking a photograph, I close my eyes. Desire made you beautiful. I closed my eyes.

.... Tonight, I am alone in my tenderness. There is nothing in my hand except a certain grasping. In my mind’s eye, I am stroking your hair with damp fingertips. This is exactly how it happened. On the lit-up hotel bed, I remember thinking, My body is a lens I can look through with my mind.

Lmao I didn't want to write all of this I'm so sorry 😭

So yeah, that was all the impressions hmph before yingdu ep 3. Now.

I want Xia Fei to be my bestie and go with me on friendship dates. Don't get me wrong, I love Cheng Xiaoshi, but he personally feels to be more like a brother to me, who is infuriating at times and that dumb bitch I'll protect at all costs. I want to befriend Xia Fei and it's serious 😭.

Also I would want, in another timeline, Cheng Xiaoshi and him being complete besties, two dumb twinks twinking with each other. Dumb gays basically. We have got INTJ nerd in Lu Guang, it's refreshing to see ENFP nerd in Xia Fei. Xia Fei could effortlessly be the best regular visitor of the time photo studio. I do not want to tear up thinking about him right now but I really want him to be happy...in another timeline. Blooming with happiness, close to his friends and loved ones, content and safe...

talking about loved ones...

I want an AU where he

fixes this mf

I want Vein to experience at least 1/5th of Lu Guang's anguish and melancholy for Xia Fei. I know, I know maybe Vein will kill Xia Fei when he defects, he is just using him from the very beginning but my love, that's what I am saying! In that AU, they will start off all toxic yaoi shit but at the end it will be...he was a cannibal and he was just a guy, their inter-timeline love will change your perception of love!

I mean no sorry, Xia Fei deserves to be loved and why Vein? because that's his punishment. Melancholic love can be the greatest punishment for someone who goes like a vendor and asks random people " would you like some punishment?" no, sir, thank you sir, would YOU like some sincere human emotions that chomp on your conscience? It's called love, it's limited edition but I'll arrange some for you!

Ok, I have got another fic to write 😭

returning to this post because @whispersoflullaby and I were discussing Xia Fei's body dysmorphia which seems specific to AFAB people and queer people. He isn't someone who is proud of his 'beauty', welp, that's odd for a typical handsome cishet person? His 'beauty' is turned against him. Ngl he reminds me of Ash Lynx a bit. You might say that he had a history of abuse and that's why he assumed the 'gig' his roommate mentioned as sex work. But there is more to it. He is definitely not a typical cishet boy, he is not projected to be one either. Even in the short span of ep 3, it's established that Xia Fei has some intimate connections to Vein, irrespective of whether Vein is using him or not. His anger at his roommate's remark feels very close to violating his identity as a queer person. The assumption that queer people are naturally 'lecherous', and they have no morality or anything whatsoever. But when Xia Fei is well established in the industry, this body politics is slightly changed. Money talks in the entertainment industry and money is the power in capitalist business. So those girls gossiping about the rumour that Xia Fei sleeps with the director for his career growth doesn't bother him like before. The most important thing is, he doesn't deny any rumours. He straight up says "Unlike some people, I always go for the best, whether it's a project or connection, isn't it right, boss?" His reply actually reinforces those speculations...it's giving " Yes I am a sugar baby, but ykw I can cry in my Tesla when you can't afford therapy". It's funny how at the end he says, "Right, boss?" to Vein! Link click...when I get you Link Click... *kowtows*

Also, I really wanna know what exactly did Vein say through the phone to get this reaction out of Xia Fei and cancel his plans to return home.

he is pleasantly shocked! You can see his eyes...that's some sincere emotions and then after the shock subsides, a soft look overcomes his expression. He softy sighs.

And also, idk if I am hallucinating but there is a little blush visible near his eyes (it's no longer there when he sighs)...I want to know what Vein said to him 😭 that interaction is shot in a very *jabsjksksdjnd* way, you can't deny it's intimate.

[mononijikayu]

no more sad songs for my broken heart — gojo satoru.

Swallowing back the bitter taste rising in your throat, you steadied yourself and turned your gaze to Satoru, watching him sleep peacefully. The room was hushed, filled only with the soft rustling of fabric and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"You're the most important to me, Satoru." you whispered, your voice a fragile whisper in the quiet night. The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a love that defied death itself. "And you always will be."

Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Warning/s: Romance, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, An Pining, Emotional Hurt, Depression, Ghost, Trauma, PTSD, Depiction of Funeral, Depiction of Trauma, Mentions of Alcohol, Depiction of Alcoholism, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Ghost, Depiction of PTSD illusions, Gojo Satoru deserves a Hug™

masterlist

song: no more sad song for my broken heart by k.will

note: the fact that we waited years and years for a sequel to please dont mv and k.will decided to give us a heartbreak on PRIDE MONTH??? but i shouldnt be speaking because i saw that mv and thought holy shit, satoru definitely went through it and held my breath for a whole week until i could write it on my free time. anyway, ill be disappearing again cause exams !!! but i will be back soon ~ i love you all <3

HE NEVER EXPECTED THIS TO END THIS WAY. Gojo Satoru stood silently in front of the floral arrangement, the vibrant colors contrasting starkly with the somberness of the ihai before him. He lowered himself gracefully, bowing deeply in a gesture of respect and remembrance. Carefully, he lit three incense sticks, their thin spirals of smoke curling upwards, filling the air with a calming fragrance. 

The silence, the lonesomeness of the room — he’d never expected it before. If he was being honest, Satoru never liked the quiet. It was hard to be alone in the realm of thoughts that burden him. But there’s nothing he could do about it. No one was here other than the funerary staff. And even then, they were all scattered around this dingy property. 

As he stood up, his gaze fell momentarily on his watch, the cracked glass dial. He doesn’t think he’d ever have it fixed. He wanted to let it be, let it rest at that moment. It was better, a reminder for him about a time that had long been frozen in time. The hands were stuck at 19:42 pm, a constant reminder of a past event he couldn't change. His cerulean blues was intense against the broken clock from the darkness of those round rim frames. 

Everyone else had already come, he supposed. But it was perhaps most poignant that he was going to be the last person here. He was away on missions, as he always has. Yaga–sensei was going to go as early as he could, Shoko would get it done and over with. Nanami was here, judging from the fact that the bread rolls from that corner store all those years ago were here. He sighed, trying to think if Suguru had come here at all. If he had the audacity to bring condolences and grief in hand. But Satoru thinks that all the incense had erased the scent of all his cursed energy. And perhaps that was for the best. 

He looked at the black armband on his arm. Ever since he arrived yesterday, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave. Not even to sleep or to eat. The moment he arrived, he was told that he was the chief mourner. He never expected that to be someone’s final request, not ever. But he supposed that it was just how fate is, with someone like him. A conundrum of irony, one that could not ever be prevented. One that could never truly stop. 

Satoru left the room quietly, his footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallways. You watched him from your hiding spot, leaning against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn't want to face him, not now, not here. But as fate would have it, Gojo Satoru could not help but notice you as he grabbed his energy drink from the vending machine. You recognized the drink from all those years ago. It was the one you hated — because it was too overly sweet. But you drank it anyway, when Satoru got it for you. 

"Hey!" he called out, his voice filled with a blend of surprise and familiarity. He rushed to your side, his tall frame towering over you, but his presence was somehow comforting.

You tried to compose yourself, managing a weak smile. "Satoru..."

He grinned at you, his usual playful demeanor tinged with genuine warmth. "I haven't seen you in a while. How about we grab a bite to eat?"

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm not hungry."

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, indulge me. It's not every day I get to catch up with an old friend."

You hesitated, torn between the desire to flee and the comfort of his company. But something in his eyes, a blend of understanding and insistence, made you relent.

"Okay," you sighed, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "But just this once."

Gojo's grin softened into a genuine smile, and he gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Let's go then."

In no time, you and Satoru sat across from each other in the small cafeteria, the ambient chatter echoes between the two of you in the silence of the empty cafeteria. He was intently looking at you as he started making conversation and you listened, nodding along with what he was saying as you ate. He was like this too when you were younger in Jujutsu High and nearly ten years later, he somehow hasn’t changed. You could only smile at that. 

Satoru starts stuffing his face with the already cold tonkatsu. You could only sigh fondly at him, watching him put the rice bowl down and take the miso soup’s bowl in hand and drink the  cold broth. You picked up your chopsticks and, absentmindedly, stuck them upright into your rice meal. Satoru's cerulean eyes widened slightly, and he leaned forward, his tone playful yet chiding.

"Hey, you know you're not supposed to do that, right? It's bad luck. Reminds me of funeral rites."

You snorted, rolling your eyes at his scolding. "Oh, please, Satoru. Don’t tell me what to do." 

“It’s still bad luck, use them properly!”

You smirked, pulling the chopsticks out and resuming your meal properly. "Besides, it's not like the spirits are going to come after me just for this."

Satoru laughed, shaking his head. "You always were stubborn. Some things never change."

You smiled, a hint of nostalgia in your eyes. "You know, Sugu-chan and Nana-chan were always sticklers for the rules. But you? I can’t believe you’re lecturing me about rules.”

He pouts at you. “I can follow rules too! You’re so mean to me, y’know?”

“It’s very rare to see you follow rules, Sato-chan.”

“But you admit that I follow rules?” The glint in his bright eyes was shining at you like a star in the cloudless sky. So clearly. “You do, don’t you?”

You grinned at him mischievously. “Well, at least the ones that suited you."

“Oh don’t patronize me!”

“Well, you asked!”

The two of you continued eating, the conversation flowing easily. You talked about the current state of affairs, your work, and shared memories from your past. The atmosphere was light, filled with genuine warmth. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him. Not since you left Jujutsu behind and had gotten married abroad. But from what Satoru heard, you returned recently. 

And he wasn’t sure what happened in all that time. But it was good for him, to see you smiling at him again. It was as if time hadn’t moved at all between the two of you. It was as if it was still like yesterday. He could feel his heart tender as you put your matcha mochi on his plate. You smiled at him, even wider than before as you told him to take it and eat it for you. He looked at you, but you just kept nodding. You watched him eat the mochi and make a satisfied groan as he ate it. You laughed, seeing that he hasn’t changed much. 

Satoru leaned back in his chair, a contented look on his face. "You know, it's really good to see you. I missed this. Just talking and being ourselves."

You nodded, feeling a similar sense of contentment. "Yeah, me too. It's nice to just... be, without any of the usual chaos."

Satoru's eyes softened as he looked at you, a rare moment of vulnerability. "You've been through a lot, I imagine. It’s been….a while.”

You shrugged, trying to downplay the weight of his words. "We all have our battles, Satoru. Some just leave more scars than others."

He reached across the table, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Well, if you ever need someone in your corner, you know where to find me."

You smiled, squeezing his hand back. "Thanks, Satoru. That means a lot."

The conversation tapered off, and a comfortable silence settled between you and Satoru. Both of you watched the birds outside the window, one bird leaving the other behind, fluttering away into the open sky. The scene was tranquil, a stark contrast to the turbulent lives you both led.

Breaking the silence, you reached for your phone. The chair squeaked softly as you shifted, pulling out an outdated flip phone from your pocket. You handed it to Satoru, causing his eyebrows to rise in curiosity.

"Can you put your number in?" you asked.

Satoru took the flip phone, chuckling softly. "You still have this old thing? Why not upgrade to something more modern?"

You shrugged, a faint smile on your lips. "The new ones overstimulate me. I prefer something simple."

Nodding in understanding, Satoru quickly input his number into your flip phone and handed it back to you. Then, he pulled out his sleek, modern smartphone, offering it to you.

"Alright, fair is fair. Put your number in mine too," he said with a grin.

You took his phone, marveling for a moment at the advanced technology before carefully entering your number. As you handed it back, your fingers brushed lightly against his, a brief but comforting connection.

"Thanks," Satoru said, pocketing his phone. "Now I have no excuse not to stay in touch."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Exactly. No excuses."

Another comfortable silence fell between you as you both returned to watching the birds outside, feeling a sense of calm and connection. Despite everything, moments like these reminded you that some bonds were unbreakable, no matter the distance or time that passed. Satoru took a sip of his drink once more and looked at your contentment. He hadn’t expected to have met you today, not at a funeral. He wished it was a better time. But he knew, it was better than not having met you again at all.

“Are you good on Thursday?” Satoru asks, breaking the comfortable silence and causing you to turn your gaze back to him.

“For what?” you reply, raising a curious eyebrow.

“To hang out...like the old days?” he says, a hopeful grin spreading across his face.

You ponder for a moment, the idea of reconnecting with him sounding appealing. "What did you have in mind?"

Satoru leans back in his chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I was thinking we could visit that ramen place we used to love. You know, the one with the best miso ramen in town. And maybe after that, we could catch a movie or just walk around the old neighborhood."

A nostalgic smile creeps onto your face as you remember the countless times you’d both gone to that ramen place, laughing and talking for hours. "That sounds nice. I could use a break from everything."

"Great!" he exclaims, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "It's a date, then."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "It's not a date, Satoru."

"Sure, sure," he says, waving his hand dismissively but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Just two old friends hanging out."

"Exactly," you agree, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of spending time with him. 

“Exactly.” He repeated, with that grin on his face. 

You shake your head. “You always have to have the last word, huh?”

He laughs. “Of course!”

For a moment, Gojo Satoru didn’t feel sad anymore.

In this moment, hearing you laugh, he escapes it all.

He escapes the misery of the world in your warmth.

WHEN YOU LEFT, SATORU WAS SHATTERED. He still remembered the details of that moment, when you told him you were leaving. The unruly pile of clothes lying around the room, the ripped pieces of paper scattered across the floor, and the bedsheet that hadn’t been replaced in days—all of it seemed like a chaotic reflection of his inner turmoil. You stood by the door, suitcase in hand, your expression a mix of sadness and determination.

"I can't stay here anymore, Satoru." you had said, your voice trembling yet resolute. "I need to find my own path, away from all of this….I’m tired.”

Satoru's heart had shattered in that instant. The room had felt colder, emptier, as if the very air was being sucked out of it. The dorm already lost its life. Everything about it was just silent. Nanami’s moved out even before graduation, Shoko’s gone off and taken to medical school. It was only him that’s left. Him and you. He clung to you, for all this time. He would push you to join him on his food trips during missions, even if you weren’t here. 

You and him stayed up watching movies together when he had those rare days off. The emptiness Suguru left behind would never go away, but you filled some tenderness in his life. A tenderness that he had enjoyed.  A tenderness he could not live without. And now you planned to leave him too. Now that he couldn't comprehend a world where you weren't a part of his daily life. The thought of you walking out that door and never coming back was too painful to bear. And he hated how it hurt, it hated how it made him return to that time, when Suguru turned his back to him forever.

Thinking of it now that you both were older, Satoru realizes that all of it must have been hard on you too. You were a year below them, in a team with Haibara and Nanami. You were close to Suguru and Shoko too. And now you lost them too, you were all alone too, left with echoes that Satoru did not know. You were left with ghosts and grief and lonesomeness. 

And he didn’t see that, he didn’t want to. You were close to breaking and he didn’t see it. And choosing your peace, it hurt him. It hurt him beyond words could express. It was a horrible thought for certain. But Satoru thought at the time, that if two miserable people were together, maybe the happiness that could come would be enough to overcome that misery. But he was wrong. He was all too wrong. Misery will never keep people together.

"Please," he had pleaded, his voice breaking. "Don't go. We can figure this out together."

But you had only shaken your head, tears streaming down your face. "I'm sorry, Sato-chan…I know it's going to hurt you. But….I can’t stay here.  I need to do this for myself."

The memory of you closing the door behind you haunted him for days, weeks, even months. He couldn’t stop crying for days after Suguru left. He had tried to fill the void with anything he could—training, missions, even attempting to drown his sorrows in alcohol—but nothing worked. The pain of losing both of you was too much to bear. The apartment became a constant reminder of the life he once had, now reduced to a hollow shell.

Every time he looked at the bed, he remembered the late-night conversations, the laughter, and the warmth of your presence. The ripped pieces of paper were drafts of letters he had tried to write to you, words that never seemed adequate to express the depth of his feelings. The clothes strewn about were remnants of happier times, now just silent witnesses to his grief. Even now, years later, the memory was as vivid as ever, a wound that never truly healed.

As Satoru sat across from you, his mind drifted back to the years following your departure. At first, he didn't want to hear anything about you. The pain was too raw, too immediate. Every mention of your name felt like a knife twisting in his chest. It hurt to know that, just like everyone else, you moved on with your life without him.

He remembered the first time he heard you'd left the country. It was Shoko who told him, her voice gentle as she broke the news. You had found a new passion, something that took you far away from the world you both had known. It was supposed to be a casual conversation, but it left him reeling. The idea of you building a new life, so distant from the memories you had shared, was almost unbearable.

Then came the news that you had married. He remembered the hollow feeling in his chest when he heard. It was as if a part of him had died all over again. Shoko had shown him a picture of you and your spouse, smiling and happy. In a fit of rage and heartbreak, he ripped the picture apart, unable to bear the sight of you with someone else.

Each memory hurt him badly. Nights were the worst, filled with imagined scenarios where you were still with him, where he could reach out and feel your warmth next to him. He would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what could have been if you had stayed.

Despite his attempts to move on, the memories lingered. Every accomplishment, every smile, every moment of happiness he found was tinged with the bittersweet reminder of what he had lost. The thought of you, happy and loved by someone else, was a constant ache.

Yet, as he looked at you now, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. The pain was still there, but so was the undeniable bond you shared. It was as if no time had passed, and in this small café, surrounded by the remnants of your shared past, he found a small measure of peace. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to rebuild what had been lost.

You and Satoru began meeting up more often than ever. Each encounter breathed new life into the corners of his world that had long been shadowed by loneliness and regret. For the first time in a long while, besides the joy he found in teaching his students, Satoru felt a genuine happiness blooming within him, one that he had almost forgotten could exist.

Your meet-ups started simply, with visits to quaint cafés where you’d talk over coffee and pastries, reminiscing about old times and sharing stories about your current lives. At times, he brought you along with him when he would see Megumi and Tsumiki. They seemed fond enough of you, and it was a privilege for Satoru to see how tender you are with them. 

You became his daily routine, everything he said revolved around your daily vernacular. Your home cooked meals became his sustenance. He realized too that he smiled more. That he was always in a good mood when you texted him something about your day. He didn’t want this to stop and he knew that you also didn’t want to leave him. Satoru realized that you found solace in each other's presence. The more you met, the more the walls of time and distance crumbled away, leaving only the essence of your bond, untouched and untainted.

At times, Gojo Satoru would come over to your place, bringing groceries or a bottle of sake. These evenings were filled with laughter, shared meals, and a sense of comfort that was rare in his life. It was one of those days to be together again. As you both sat on the porch, the sky painted in hues of twilight, you revealed something you had been holding back. Satoru already knew you were married, but you didn’t know that. But he just listened, when you talked all about it. He just let you lift the weight of your chest. He just let you give yourself to him little by little.

“I’m divorced.” you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the horizon. “It happened a while ago.”

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to you, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrugged, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. “I didn’t know how. It’s not something I talk about easily. But I thought you should know.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry you went through that. But thank you for telling me.”

As the weeks turned into months, Satoru realized something profound. He loved you. It was a love that had never truly faded, only hidden beneath layers of time and circumstance. Each moment spent with you reaffirmed this truth. And each moment, he was even more terrified. Terrified of telling you the truth. Terrified of letting you see the pits of him that he doesn’t like. 

The monster that lingers in the strongest, he does not want you to see that. The danger that comes with the world that he dwells in, the world you’d long abandoned. You laughed together, drank together, and enjoyed each other's company in a way that felt both new and comfortingly familiar. The nights, like tonight, continued to be joyous evenings filled with stories and laughter. 

You looked at him, your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lamp. “I’m glad we’re doing this,” you said softly.

“Me too, y’know?” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ve missed you. More than I can say.”

Your fingers brushed against his, “I always thought about you, all those years.”

His cerulean blue tenderly met your own orbs. “I always thought about you too."

“Do you mean it?” You responded in a whisper.

“Why would I lie to you, after all this time?”

After a delightful meal shared on your porch, you found yourselves enjoying dessert. You had bought some sweets to bring over. You didn’t like sweets all that much, but you always thought about enjoying them with Satoru. Because it made him happy. And when he was happy, you were too. You could feel the night air breezing in consistent cool kisses, and the distant sound of cicadas filled the silence between your laughter and conversation. You picked up a piece of the dessert, holding it out to Satoru with a playful grin. You supposed you had drunk much already.

“Here, try this. It’s delicious, Sato-chan.” you said, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on yours as he took the bite. “Mmm, you’re right. It’s amazing.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he took a piece and held it out to you. “Your turn.”

You hesitated, feeling a sudden rush of warmth to your cheeks. “Satoru, I can feed myself, you know?” you laughed nervously.

“Come on, indulge me, sweets!” he teased, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You opened your mouth, letting him feed you. The intimacy of the gesture made your heart race, and you quickly looked away, trying to hide your flustered expression. Satoru chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

As the evening wore on, Satoru, a notorious lightweight when it came to drinking, began to feel the effects of the sake you’d shared. He leaned back, his eyelids drooping. “I think I’m going to pass out, sweets.” he mumbled, a sleepy smile on his face.

“Then go and sleep.”

“Hm….night.”

‘.....G’d night.”

You watched as his eyes closed, his breathing evening out. For a long moment, you stared at him, your heart aching with unspoken feelings. You had always been in love with him, but you knew deep down that you could never compete with Suguru. That bond, that history, was something you could never touch.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru was not entirely asleep. He was keenly aware of his feelings for you, feelings that had grown stronger with each passing day. But rather than confront them, he chose to feign sleep, his mind whirling with thoughts he wasn’t ready to address. Not just yet. Not when it was too hard to face the truth.

You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Satoru's forehead. Your touch was tender, filled with a longing that transcended the boundaries between this world and the next.

"I... I... I lov..." you began, your voice faltering as if caught between the weight of your emotions and the limits of your spectral form. Frustration and exhaustion etched across your ethereal features, and you brought your hands to your face, overcome by the inability to express what lay heavy on your heart.

Swallowing back the bitter taste rising in your throat, you steadied yourself and turned your gaze to Satoru, watching him sleep peacefully. The room was hushed, filled only with the soft rustling of fabric and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"You're the most important to me, Satoru," you whispered, your voice a fragile whisper in the quiet night. The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a love that defied death itself. "And you always will be."

He heard your words, each one piercing through his heart, but he remained still, his breathing steady. He wasn’t ready to face the complexities of your relationship, the unresolved emotions that lay between you.

As you sat there, watching over him, you wondered if there would ever be a time when you could be honest with each other. For now, you were content to cherish these moments, fleeting as they might be, and hope that someday, the barriers between you would fall away, leaving only the love that had always been there.

A few moments later, you realized Satoru groggily opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. He watched you with a mix of concern and amusement as you clumsily attempted to put your shoes on, fumbling with the laces and nearly losing your balance. The room was dim, and the aftereffects of the night’s drinks were evident in your unsteady movements.

“What are you doing?” Satoru asked, his voice laced with confusion and sleepiness.

“I need to go home,” you whispered to him, your voice soft but tinged with a hint of desperation. You hiccuped, the sound breaking the silence of the room. “My dog needs me.”

Satoru sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to make sense of your words. He reached out to steady you, his touch gentle yet firm. “You’re not going anywhere in this state, sweets.” he said, concern etched across his face. “Let’s get you some water and figure this out.”

But you shook your head, your thoughts already miles away. “No, I have to go. She’s waiting for me. Please, I need to get home.” The urgency in your voice was palpable, and despite his better judgment, Satoru knew there was no stopping you. 

“Alright….Let me take you home.”

“You don’t need to.” You tell him, shaking your head. “You…don’t you have a mission tomorrow?”

“It’s fine.” Satoru insisted to you. “Don’t worry.”

Walking through the train tunnel, the air was thick with the musty scent of concrete and dampness, punctuated by the distant echo of footsteps reverberating off the tunnel walls. The dim, flickering lights cast long, eerie shadows that danced around you and Satoru as you stumbled forward, your movements unsteady and guided more by instinct than clarity.

You were particularly drunk, your senses dulled and your thoughts muddled. Every step felt like a small victory as you navigated the uneven ground and avoided stumbling over the occasional debris littering the tunnel floor. Beside you, Satoru walked with a surprising steadiness, his normally calm demeanor now tinged with a quiet concern. His eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings with a vigilance that contrasted sharply with your intoxicated haze.

The tunnel seemed to stretch on endlessly, the occasional flickering light offering brief glimpses of the graffiti-covered walls and rusted tracks that lay beyond. The sound of your footsteps echoed loudly in the confined space, creating an unsettling symphony with the distant sounds of passing trains and the occasional drip of water from above.

“Be careful now.” he cautioned, glancing at you as you stumbled slightly. His tone was light, but the concern in his eyes was evident.

You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Satoru,” you began, your voice wavering. “There’s something I’ve never been able to tell you.”

He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “What is it?” he asked, his expression curious and a little concerned.

You looked at him, your eyes almost broken, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy on your shoulders. “Can I… can I hug you? Just once?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can you turn off Infinity around me? Just for a moment?”

Satoru’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer. “My Infinity is always down with you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a gentle sincerity.

Without another word, you stepped forward and embraced him, wrapping your arms around his waist. The warmth of his body against yours was both comforting and overwhelming. Satoru stood still, his arms at his sides, too shocked to respond immediately.

For a moment, you held him tightly, your face buried in his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’ve always loved you, Satoru.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I wished….I wished I told you, before I left. Maybe……maybe it would have saved me a decade of pain. Of heartbreak.”

His body tensed slightly, and you could feel his breath hitch. Slowly, as if coming out of a trance, his arms began to lift. Tentatively, he placed them around you, his embrace becoming firmer as the reality of your confession sank in.

You stood there in the train tunnel, holding onto each other as if the world around you had ceased to exist. The distant echoes and the cold air were forgotten, replaced by the warmth of the moment and the raw, unfiltered emotions that had finally been laid bare.

Satoru pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at you. His eyes were filled with a mix of shock, confusion, and something else—something deeper. “Why now?” he asked, his voice barely audible, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment.

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Because I couldn’t hold it in any longer,” you replied, your voice trembling. “Because I need you to know, even if it changes nothing.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching your face. Then, slowly, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “For telling me.”

“I know we can’t be together.” You ramble to him, tears falling all over your face. “I wish we could have had more time. I wish….”

“We will have more time.” He tells you in a mumble. “We have all the time in the world.”

“We don’t.” You whispered to him, looking into his eyes with your own tear stained face. “We don’t.”

In that moment, he could see it in your eyes.

You were telling him the truth, the whole of it.

As the sound of the train echoed through the tunnel,

You burst into tears as those words echoed in his head.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” You whispered. “I’m going to hurt you.”

YOU CHOSE THE PICTURE YOURSELF.  You looked at him, a sad smile playing on your lips, a bittersweet expression that conveyed both regret and acceptance. Your gaze was gentle yet haunting, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the photograph he held in his trembling hands — a portrait of you, captured in a moment of serene beauty that seemed to transcend the confines of the photograph itself.

As he stared at your image, framed by the soft glow of candlelight, he felt a pang of disbelief and sorrow grip his heart. How could someone so vibrant, so full of life, now be reduced to this still, silent image before him? The photograph seemed to capture not just your physical likeness, but also the essence of your spirit — a spirit that had once danced with such vitality and now lingered only in memories.

He remembered that day in the tunnel, your words echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain. You had warned him, confessed your impending departure with a sorrow that mirrored his own. In that moment, he had felt a deep ache, a foreboding sense of loss that now seemed inevitable and crushing.

Now, holding your funeral photo, he felt as if he were suspended in that tunnel once more, caught between the reality of your absence and the vividness of your memory. You had prepared for this moment, for your departure from his life, long before fate had delivered its cruel blow. The photo captured a version of you that he knew was only a fraction of the person he had loved — a mere reflection of the complexities and contradictions that made you who you were.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the illusion of your ghostly presence that seemed to linger in the room. This spectral image, so painfully beautiful, could never truly encapsulate the vibrant soul he had cherished. Everything that defined you now rested in the small urn before him, the echoes of the fleeting nature of life itself. He had promised to protect you, to hold you close, but now all he could do was hold onto your memory, etched into his heart with a sorrow that would never fade.

Gojo Satoru sat in silence, the photo trembling in his hands. He couldn't bring himself to look away from your serene face, captured forever in that moment of calm. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows around the room, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and surreal.

"You told me……" Satoru finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "that you were going to hurt me. But I never thought it would end like this."

Your ghostly presence seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light, a wistful echo of the person he had loved so deeply. Your eyes, even in the photo, held a depth of sadness that mirrored his own

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice carrying a weight of regret that pierced through the silence. "I never wanted this for us."

He looked up at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I should have done everything." he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I should have done something."

You shook your head gently, a gesture that seemed to encompass both forgiveness and understanding. "It wasn't your fault," you reassured him softly. "We couldn't change what was meant to be."

"But I miss you, my love." Satoru confessed, his voice choking with grief. "Every day feels like a struggle without you."

Your ghostly form seemed to draw closer, as if reaching out to comfort him. "I know, I know…." you murmured, your presence a fleeting warmth in the cold emptiness of the room. "I miss you too."

He reached out a trembling hand towards where your image lay, desperate for some tangible connection to the love that had defined his world. "Why did you have to leave me?" he asked, his voice filled with anguish. “Why now when we had everything?”

You looked at him with infinite sadness, your ethereal presence flickering faintly. "I didn't want to," you replied, your voice barely audible. "But my time was up. Some things... we can't control it."

He closed his cerulean eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. The ache in his chest felt unbearable, a gaping void that no amount of time could ever heal. "I wish I could have saved you, my love." he whispered, his words a desperate plea to the universe. “I wished I….”

In the silence that followed, your ghostly form seemed to fade gradually, leaving behind only the faint echo of your presence. "You gave me everything I ever wanted." you whispered softly, your voice drifting like a gentle breeze. "And I will always be with you, in every memory, in every heartbeat."

He closed his cerulean eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks like silent rivers of grief. The ache in his chest felt unbearable, a gaping void that no amount of time could ever hope to heal. "I don't want anything else, my love," he whispered brokenly, his words a desperate plea to the universe. "I just want you. I need you."

His voice faltered, choked by sorrow too deep for words. In the deafening silence that followed, your ghostly form seemed to fade gradually, leaving behind only the faint echo of your presence. The room feels emptier without you, devoid of the warmth and light that had once filled his life.

"I know." You choked as you tried not to falter. Not when he needed your smile more than your tears. "I know."

"I wished we had more time.....so I could have....." You shook your head at him.

"You gave me everything I ever wanted," your voice echoed softly, ethereal and distant like a whisper carried in the wind. "And I have no regrets. Neither should you, Satoru. Hm?"

He clutched the photograph to his chest, feeling the weight of your absence press against him like a physical force. The candle flickered, casting fleeting shadows on the walls as if dancing to the rhythm of his heartache. Memories flooded his mind — moments shared, laughter exchanged, dreams woven together — now a tapestry of what-ifs and regrets.

"I don't know how to go on without you, my love." he admitted quietly, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "Everything reminds me of you. What is life without who makes life have sense?"

"You are stronger than you know, you always were." your voice whispered gently, a soothing melody in the midst of his storm. He could feel you touch his cheek. He leans against the ghostly weight, wishing he could feel your warmth in his. "You'll always get by, Satoru. You always will. You're the best I know, after all."

"Because I'm the strongest?"

You smiled, softly shaking your head again. "Because you love too well."

He opened his pale blue eyes, searching for a glimpse of you in the shadows, in the flickering candlelight. Though your physical presence had slipped away, he could still feel your love wrapping around him like a fragile cocoon. It was a love that had weathered storms, endured trials, and now lingered as fragile hope in his shattered heart.

"I love you, my love." he whispered into the stillness, his words a solemn vow to carry your memory forward. "Always."

As he sat there, cradling the photograph that held your smile frozen in time, he knew that while he had lost you in body, your spirit would forever remain intertwined with his own. And in the quiet moments of solitude, he would find solace in the memories of a love that had transcended mortality itself. 

He knew that time would be the bridge between now and when he would see you again. Even in his deepest despair, the thought of reuniting with you brought a bittersweet comfort. Yet, he also knew that to join you prematurely would betray the promise he had made to you in those final moments — to live a life worthy of your love, to carry on and make a difference.

The scent of incense filled the room, a solemn reminder of the rituals and prayers offered for your departed soul. Satoru let out a long exhale, his lips pursed into a determined line. He would fulfill his promises, no matter how difficult or daunting the path ahead seemed.

"I'll change the Jujutsu society," he vowed quietly to himself, the words carrying a weight of determination. "I'll guide the next generation, help them grow strong and wise."

As a sad melody filled the air, a song that once brought joy and laughter to both of you, he closed his eyes and allowed the memories to wash over him. You had loved to dance to this song, your laughter echoing in his ears as you twirled around the room together. It was a memory etched in his heart, a fragment of a life he cherished and longed to live again.

"I'll do everything you believed I could," he whispered softly, his voice tinged with both sadness and resolve. "And then, I'll find you again."

In the solitude of that moment, amidst the flickering candlelight and the haunting melody, he made a silent promise to himself and to you. He would continue to carry your love in his heart, through every trial and triumph, knowing that one day, their souls would reunite in a dance again.

And so Gojo Satoru waits as he lay on that cold operating table.

Those sad sing along songs repeated in his head over and over.

But as he lay there, all that he could think to do was smile at pain.

He was going to meet you soon, he thinks to himself in such peace.

Then, there would be no more sad songs for his broken heart to hear.

some facts about the fic

in the first part, satoru is struggling through his grief for you to the point that he is suffering traumatic illusions that you were there, eating with him. in that whole scene, satoru was actually alone and he's repressing that for the vision of being together, eating.

when you were eating, the chopsticks  were stuck upright. this should not be the case especially rice. chopsticks are only stuck upright into rice in the bowl on the altar at a funeral or when paying respects to the deceased. this is called hotokebashi.

in the funerary flower arrangement, there's something called an ihai. an ihai is a placard that people used to designate the seat of a deity or past ancestor as well as to enclose it. the name of the deity or the past ancestor is usually inscribed onto the tablet.

an ihai is usually used in the funerary rights and then afterwards, put in a butsudan which is often an ornate platform or simply a wooden cabinet sometimes crafted with doors that enclose it. families often put their ihai into their butsudan at home.

since i thought that in this story, you don't have parents - i like to think that satoru put your ihai in the butsudan in his house, so that you could be there with him always.

your ashes in the story are with satoru. but i like to believe he already had a spot reserved for him as clan leader in the future - so he buried you beside his future spot so he just made sure both of you are together in the afterlife too.

the watch belonged to haibara and his parents gave you and nanami something of his to keep. you kept the watch he wore during the mission and kept using it all your life. it stopped working when you died.

the time in the story was 19:42. in japanese superstition,

in the first part, satoru is struggling through his grief for you to the point that he is suffering traumatic illusions that you were there, eating with him. in that whole scene, satoru was actually alone and he's repressing that for the vision of being together, eating.

when you were eating, the chopsticks  were stuck upright. this should not be the case especially rice. chopsticks are only stuck upright into rice in the bowl on the altar at a funeral or when paying respects to the deceased. this is called hotokebashi.

in the funerary flower arrangement, there's something called an ihai. an ihai is a placard that people used to designate the seat of a deity or past ancestor as well as to enclose it. the name of the deity or the past ancestor is usually inscribed onto the tablet.

an ihai is usually used in the funerary rights and then afterwards, put in a butsudan which is often an ornate platform or simply a wooden cabinet sometimes crafted with doors that enclose it. families often put their ihai into their butsudan at home.

since i thought that in this story, you don't have parents - i like to think that satoru put your ihai in the butsudan in his house, so that you could be there with him always.

your ashes in the story are with satoru. but i like to believe he already had a spot reserved for him as clan leader in the future - so he buried you beside his future spot so he just made sure both of you are together in the afterlife too.

the watch belonged to haibara and his parents gave you and nanami something of his to keep. you kept the watch he wore during the mission and kept using it all your life. it stopped working when you died.

the time in the story was 19:42. in japanese superstition, you have to switch it to have meaning. 42-19, together sounds like shini iku (死に行く – to go and die).

your story ex-spouse and you divorced because they found out that you were a jujutsu sorcerer - after you saved them from a cursed spirit that was about to kill them.

you found out that you were very ill a month after you met satoru again and were given a year or two to live, with medication. its a rare disease, so there was only maintenance medication.

originally, i thought to write that you die from a mission after returning to jujutsu to be with satoru. but i realized that it's just not gonna hit as hard. so i changed my mind and got to this ending.

i also thought that you dying in this story because of cursed spirits was going to rile satoru up against the higher ups. but i felt like the fact that you left him because you were traumatized too, and needed a room enough to breathe was enough for him to be angry. if you hadn't left, you and satoru would have had a life together and you wouldn't have been ripped away from him by fate so quickly.

[mandy-asimp]

Needed me

Emily Prentiss x fashion designer!reader (they/them)

Warnings: angst, fluff, happy ending

A/n: they dragging babygirl through hell this season 😔

"I'm sorry, but she is not my responsibility anymore. I can't be there to tell her it's going to be ok when she couldn't do that for me." They grumbled as they sat across from Rossi.

He sighed, "she's dealing with a lot."

"And I wasn't?" They didn't let him get further. "I get that you all are going to support her, she's your teammate. But you all didn't know her as your fiancé. The absolute love of your life who for the love of fucks, left you at your lowest."

The old man wasn't going to give up. He believed that there was still apart of them that would cave. "Y/n, you know I wouldn't have flown out here if I didn't think it was serious. She needs you."

It was them who sighed now. Standing up from the table. Leaning across to kiss the old man's cheek. "I'm sorry Dave. Unless she is at the point of tears and just giving up, I will not be roped back into it. Not again. I deserve better. I'll see you around."

And they were off. They never looked back to that table, knowing they were too close to facing...but they couldn't help but wonder what was so bad. Then there was what she did, how it flashed so quickly.

She came home that day to find her fiancé in tears. Body racking with sobs. "Babe? Baby what's wrong?" She was quick to drop her stuff and come crouch in front of her.

"Everything I've worked for it's gone." They got out between wiping away tears that seemed to never end.

Emily frowned, "what? Y/n, what happened?" She was trying to think of anything this bad. Had they been told bad news? Something someone said?

They picked up their phone and with shaky hands pulled up the news, a video of a burnt down building. "The studio...everything in it. All of it...this sets everything back..." they calmed their sobs to hiccups and a few more tears. "I'm absolutely ruined. This was supposed to be it. This was the break I was gonna get and then actually get to enter the real fashion world. I was going to go somewhere and I was going to make it," they spewed out so many worries. Mentions of how much time they'll need to restart, how this was the such an important thing.

Emily though, she froze up. There was so much happening she didn't know what to do. She's never witness them spiral out before. Within the four years, they knew how to keep themselves calm. Even if they couldn't, it's never been this intense. It scared her.

She knew it was a reasonable response to what had happened. Their entire future just went up into a crisp. Everything in her wanted to try and comfort them, truly she wanted to figure it out together.

Yet, the few bricks of the wall she'd built had more impact. She fell back behind it and regretted her next choice before it even happened. After that, Emily swore she blacked out because when she realized what happened, she was in a hotel room alone.

Y/n was just as shocked. The woman they were about to confess their undying love to just walked out. Not a single word said, but just gone. Even when they tried to ask questions, she gave them nothing.

For an entire week, Emily didn't try to reach out or fix anything. Instead she read every text that came through. Even the one that said all her shit would be on the curb for her. The one that set in what she did was calling off the wedding.

That was only a few years ago. The two had completely moved on, or at least Y/n tried to. Never wanting to look back on how much pain was caused, but apart of them wouldn't let themselves fall in love again.

But here they were. Sitting in the apartment, trying to sketch their next line, and only being able to think of Emily. Rossi came and he wouldn't have if it was serious. If they were to go to her, it would be unwrapping the bandages on a wound that hasn't been fully healed.

"No. You are stronger than this." They whispered to themselves. Staring at the sketchbook once again.

If they did...there would be a chance for closure. It would be nice to know why she ran. Why she couldn't just stick it out. They would've been the most badass couple. The FBI unit chief and a famous designer.

If they did...they would get the chance to finally express their anger. But it wouldn't be the right time if she's suffering. How is she suffering? What is going through her mind?

"Fuck." They shouted before getting up. Heading into their room to start packing a suitcase. Dialing Dave at the same time.

"Rossi"

"When are you flying back to Virginia?"

"I'll have the car there in ten. Thank you Y/n."

The call ended quickly, and Y/n was left to grumble. "Oh thank you Y/n! Thank you for having to be the damn adult once again. Thank you for willingly putting yourself through hell for her!" They had a nasty taste on their tongue as they spoke. It's honestly what silenced them.

Throwing a few outfits into a suitcase with the basic needs, they zipped it and began to pack a second bag. Grabbing everything needed to continue working on their summer line. This was done more carefully, with more precision on where everything went in.

Their eyes scanned over the packed bag, making sure everything was in there right. Right before Dave texted the car was out front.

One more sigh was let out before the apartment was locked up. The start of what might be either the biggest, or best choice made.

~

Emily was in her office. She was lost. She was loosing her mind over this case. Her wack-ass neighbor had hit a nerve she would've never expected.

It was just a mess now. Whoever was behind all this was winning and she couldn't figure it out. She was just fucked.

"Hey...how bad?" Rossi had popped into the room. Watching as the woman pulled out a box of cigarettes and lit one. "That bad?"

"Restricted duty until they see fit, so the BAU is yours." She tried to act calm, trying to keep it together infront of him.

Rossi huffed, "I don't want it. I'm not fit for it."

Emily pinched her nose. "None of us are! Hell! Me most of all. I need you to step up here Dave." She just needed him to make this easier.

"There has to be something?"

"This is happening." She shook her head and turned her back, her purse being a lame excuse for a distraction . The walls couldn't stay up as she felt herself begin to crumble.

A soft hand on her back made her gasp. She expected to turn and see Rossi, someone who she could only go so far with. Yet, her eyes were met with Y/n. She couldn't help it. Her legs gave out as she just sobbed into their chest on the floor.

It killed Y/n to see her like this. Emily was known for her tough demeanor and being able to keep it together at work. But that's what the team knew. Y/n knew her as their fiancé. They saw her breakdown at least once a month from the case build ups.

This however, Y/n could tell this was months on months of a build up. This was a low point, one that they would be there for.

It was half an hour before Emily could get out anything. Her brown eyes, wide and glassy, looked up to them. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was weak and defeated.

"I was told you needed me." Was all Y/n answered with. Naturally, their thumb wiped away the tears. "Why don't you sit on the couch and I'll make you some tea, hmm? Then you can tell me what's got you so...low."

The older got up and moved towards the couch. Y/n leaving the room to make the drink, remembering how Emily liked it like it was their own preferred. Within five minutes they were back and handing over the tea.

They stood, leaning against the desk. "Was it Brian again?"

"How did you...?" The question trailed off as Emily took her first sip. Trying to not let the warm feeling rush through her. They remembered her tea flawlessly.

Y/n glanced out the window, "I saw him lingering on the way in." Emily laughed a little at that. "But really....are you ok?"

"I've failed as a team leader. This job has corrupted me into breaking laws and lying to my team. I'm chasing with nothing but a conspiracy theory. I sounded crazy to the biggest conspiracy theorist in Virginia. I've been benched because of him. I just...I don't know what to do anymore." She so easily confessed. Her head falling into her hands for what felt like the millionth time today. "This can't be how I go out."

Internally, Y/n battled with going over there and holding her or keeping this distance. It put them back once again. They wouldn't be able to live with themselves if they did what she did, it just wouldn't make anything right. So they went over and held her again. This time placing an understanding kiss to her temple.

"It's not. I mean, it will be if you let it. And trust me when I tell you, you're going to want to let it. But that's not Emily Prentiss. She has been through so much worse than some theorist. This will be a fresh start. A chance to start anew. You will take it, and you will figure out this case. You will get your guy or whatever you call it, unsub? This is not your lowest. It's gonna feel like it, but it's just a low before the high. It's all going to be ok." They spoke from their heart. Even as it ached to be back in this position. Even as tears fell from their own eyes.

They were sharing her pain without wanting to, but needing to. Needing to let her know this wasn't it. Needing to let her know that someone was her to share her burdens again.

For the first time, both felt connected entirely. Beating with one heart. Thinking with one mind. Feeling with one body.

That night they had fallen asleep on the couch in her office. Holding onto one another like it would all go away as long as they were together.

Y/n had woken randomly, searching for any source of time. Rubbing their eyes as it was two in the morning. Emily didn't have to be back her till at least eight. They let their eyes fall to Emily. How she seemed so peaceful lying on top of them. She needed this more than Y/n had thought.

So, without much debate, Y/n was carrying the sleeping beauty and her bags out. Doing everything to prevent her from waking, which wasn't hard as she was out cold.

They drove in silence back to where they were staying. Knowing that if it came to it, they could drive to get her an outfit. The silence gave them time to really think. What were they doing? This is the exact opposite of what they were expecting.

Was Emily going to easily fit her way right back? It wouldn't be fair. She caused them the pain and yet they still love her. They would, without a doubt, let her as well. All she had to do was ask. It was just unfair, and they were going to live with it.

~

Emily stirred in the nice duvet. Confused as it wasn't hers and far too nice to be a hotel. She knew this duvet. She slept in it many times before.

"The coffee is being made. And breakfast is on the way." That voice she missed hearing in the morning.

She hummed while stretching, "how long have you been up?" She finally opened her eyes and seeing Y/n in sweats and a baby tee. Their casual lounge wear.

"Since maybe five. These sketches don't finish themselves unfortunately." They sat down at the desk that was perfectly illuminated by the sun at anytime of the day. "Oh, also your team is coming here tonight. You're taking the day according to Dave. He said it's his order and you should follow it."

"Why are they coming here?" She swung her feet out the bed. Her head turning to take in the room. "You kept your apartment here? What about living in New York?"

"My home in New York makes this look like a doll house. Smallest is the home in California. I move with the seasons." They simply explained. Frowning when Emily laughed.

"You're such a snob. Three houses? Really?" She got up and came to look at the sketches. Not saying anything as Y/n just began sketching again.

She couldn't help but stare at them. They made that concentration face still. Where the creativity would float in their eyes as the rest of their face was resting.

Y/n could feel her eyes on them. It wasn't anything out of their routine. Oh how they fell so easily into the routines.

"I'm a big fashion designer. I'm constantly doing something somewhere else. It's like you, Ms. FBI. Always away doing something," they hummed. Never once did they look up to her, they seemed to be battling the inevitable.

Emily didn't say anything, she just took in the sketches one more time and was off to the bathroom.

Both in their own thoughts and silence. Neither one knowing how to approach the situation of each other. Emily not knowing how to go about work. Y/n not knowing how to go about the designs. There were many thoughts floating in the air.

They let the silence stay around as they waited for breakfast to show up. Emily still clueless on why the team was coming. And she could've asked, but the thrill of a surprise put together by Y/n seemed to make her against it.

Y/n had been trying to sketch within the silence, but knowing Emily was only a few feet away made it hard.

"Babe! I'm home!" She called into the apartment. Noting how quiet it was. "Y/n? Are you even here?" A text saying 'study' came through, leading her through the quiet home.

When she pushed open the door, she found several mannequins with different outfits all lined up. "Isn't it beautiful?" Y/n hummed from the table of gems. They seemed to have been hand sewing each one on.

"Stunning. You didn't have all this done before I left?" Emily came to get a closer look. Being able to see the glimmer of proudness in Y/n's eyes. "What's it inspired by?"

Y/n didn't answer, instead just took int their work. Each outfit was inspired by their favorite memory with Emily. Between outfits they wore that night, or how they felt in the moment. The line was a collection of their love.

"Alrighty, leave me in the dark till it's released. Are you hungry? I imagine you've been to busy working to eat?" Emily left, getting comfortable.

Y/n looked over the sketches one more time. Sighing and dropping their head with a loud bump. They hadn't struggled this hard with sketches since when the two had first split.

They pushed up from their spot and headed into the kitchen. Rubbing their eyes to try and see anything clearly. They lost focus as they stared at the working coffee pot. This trip was already off on a different path than they wanted.

"If you want...I can leave." Emily's voice broke into the silent kitchen. Her head hung low and her hands picking at each other. She looked out the window briefly, bracing herself to meet the others stare.

Only, it wasn't on her. Instead Y/n moved around to get coffee, their back to the woman. "If you want to, I can drive you. But by no means are you gonna get kicked out." Two mugs got pulled down. They were matching ones Emily had gotten for them once upon a time ago.

They frowned to the memories of both mugs. There was a moment with a sigh. They forgot how much they avoided coming here and how they left everything almost the same.

The coffee was poured and the mug was handed over. Now they met each other's eyes. Emily wearing a frown as Y/n tried to keep their shit together.

"Unfortunately for me and fortunately for you, I couldn't kick you out even if you stabbed me. But I wouldn't try, we both have too much to loose for that." Y/n kept their distance still. Eyes either on Emily or anywhere else in the house. It was getting quiet again and it wasn't enjoyable. They rubbed their eyes again, "I need to get back to work. Feel free to make yourself comfortable but not too loud."

They were off and back in their study before Emily could even get anything out. "What about breakfast?" She called out and after, following herself.

Y/n flipped over their phone, "it's about ten minutes away." Their voice was cold and stale. Short of the comforting Emily had heard last night.

It confused her. "You are so confusing." She mumbled. Her head shaking just a bit at the cold demeanor.

"Funny coming from you." Y/n shot back almost instantly. A nasty taste washing over their tongue again. They sucked their tooth before turning around. Eyes immediately locking Emily in. "If this is confusing for you, let me tell you what's confusing for me. The fact that when my entire future burnt into literal crisps, the only thing you, my fiancé at the time, quite literally walked out and said nothing. For a week you then ghost me, mind you I was the one you were marrying in less than a month, and then after years of not looking back, David Rossi shows up. You know what THE David Rossi asked me? To come help you. And here I am, trying my absolute best to keep my shit together so you don't have to worry about another thing. Because you know what Emily? I care for you enough to be there for you." They spewed everything out, hands being thrown around in dramatics as their chest heaved.

Emily was too stunned to speak. What was she to say? Y/n was right. She left when they needed her the most and left without a word. And yet, here they were giving her nothing but what they always have, love.

"I'm sorry," was all that she could manage.

They only scoffed, "whatever. Breakfast is almost here." Y/n shook their head and sat back down at the desk. "You can put my food in the fridge."

"Y/n..." Emily sounded broken, even more than last night. It killed Y/n, but they deserved their reason, and she knew that.

Cautiously, she moved in closer. Coming to Y/n's left and sitting down on the floor. Her knees bent just enough to rest her arms on.

"I panicked...I had never seen you break down like that before..I didn't know how to respond and I just fell behind a wall and did what I always did..I ran from it instead of facing it. And it wasn't fair to you. I truly have no excuse for what I did, except I was a coward." She spoke quietly into the air. Feeling tears prick her eyes as the feeling of guilt and embarrassment kicked her hard. "I only can say sorry, and I say it knowing it will never be enough to make up for all of the pain I may have caused you."

Both had taken the next moment to sit in silence and process everything. Y/n had tears falling from the moment Emily had sat down next to them. Emily had let her tears fall once she finished.

A few beats had passed and Y/n had let their hand fall to Emily's head. Sliding to her cheek as she looked up. "You Emily Prentiss, have caused more pain than I can bring up again. And I hope you have learned from it. I hope you didn't do it to anyone else and you won't do it to anyone else." They had this frown she had never seen, one she knew she had caused.

"I'm so sorry Y/n.." she quietly cried leaning into the touch. Feeling the warmth of the designers hands. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," they hummed as tears fell down their rosy cheeks. "I know you are."

~

Hours had gone by. Filled with nothing but tears and sniffles. Emily had moved from the floor when she began sobbing, into Y/n's lap. Her face buried into their neck as they shushed her to asleep.

Y/n had tucked her back into bed and continued to work on the designs. Pulling out the old sketches from their scrapped line. Staring over each outfit that was designed after their love.

The mannequins were in the studio, locked in a specific room. They questioned if now was the right time to bring them all back out. If it was, they knew it was ready to be launched, giving them more time on the line that sat unfinished.

They picked up their phone, "Jackie? I need you and Joana to bring me Project L.E.P. The key is in my desk, bottom left drawer, hidden under her picture, tied with a red ribbon. It's hard to miss, the ribbon has L.E.P in gold on the end."

"Are we launching it?!" The assistant grew overly excited. "Oh! Y/n you have no idea how wonderful this is!"

"Is that Y/n?" The other assistant, Joana came into the room.

Y/n assumed Jackie nodded, "yes! They want us to bring L.E.P to their home."

"They're launching it? But then that would mean Em- Oh my God!" The phone was snatched and it was Joana now. "Did you guys talk?! I want to know everything! How did you lay it down?!"

"Joana." Y/n simply cut the assistant from bombarding with questions. "When I see you, I will answer your questions. I need that line, bring the truck with them all. We're going to review them."

"Yes boss!" They both said before hanging up. Y/n knew they were geeking out in the studio at this point.

They assumed it would be at least half an hour before the two got there. Giving enough time to finally take a well needed break and eat something.

While they warmed up the breakfast, Emily had stirred awake. She laid in the bed, taking in the familiar smell of Y/n's shampoo on the pillows. She began to think over everything they had said.

They said it was unfortunate that they couldn't kick her out even if they wanted to. What did that truly mean?

Emily realized, they've already gone through the hardest conversation, this one would be nothing. She swung the covers over and began to look for Y/n. Checking the study first.

Her curiosity for the better of her. She came close to the desk, looking over the designs. There were a few that had yet to be finished, and then there was one in red that really caught her eye. She picked it up, scanning over the paper and realizing she's seen it before. On the bottom had L.E.P written in gold. Emily couldn't place where she's seen it, but she knew for a fact she had.

Placing it down, she left to the kitchen next. Finding Y/n dancing slightly to their own tune. She watched as they prepared their food before acknowledging her entrance.

"Would you like yours as well? I can heat it up?" They offered without even looking over before grabbing the second meal. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good...I do have a question though," she came in closer. Leaning against the counter while staying out the way. Y/n looked over, showing she had their attention. "When you said..."

"I meant it." They knew her thoughts better than anyone. Emily swore in another life they were either a profiler, or a mind reader. "If you want to stay, I'm not going to stop you. If you want to leave, I will drive you. I'm here because you needed me, and I think....apart of me still needed you. If I wanted to be over you, I would've been. I know I would've been. I would've cleaned out everything that ties to you, but I didn't."

"When we ended...I thought that everything was going to go to shit. My career was caught in a fire, my relationship was ending, and I began to spiral. I began to just accept that this was how I was going out. Would never be a big fashion designer, never have a love life, nothing to live for....but I thought of it as letting you win without a fight. And that wasn't how I wanted you to win."

"I don't deserve you," she had whispered. Her head tilting and her silver waves fell to the side.

It was the first time Y/n had actually taken her in entirely. How she aged and yet was still the most beautiful woman they had ever come across. It made them want to just kiss her and tell her that she was welcomed home always.

"And yet...you have me." They sighed, hand coming to cup her cheek. "And maybe thats why I've been so confusing. Because I'm supposed to be mad at you, I really really want to..but anytime I try to, this nasty taste fills my mouth. Like I don't mean anything bad I try and say. And I don't."

"Y/n..." she furrowed her brows. This was more confessing than she had expected. "You don't have to tell me anything-"

"Damn it Emily," they groaned. "I'm not telling you this because I think you need it, I'm telling yo this because I need it. I'm being selfish. I'm loosing my shit with you just standing here. Do you know how easy it is for you to walk right back into my life? When I said I was going to love you forever, I meant it. I meant it with everything then. And I'm going to mean it with everything now." They had their own tears now. Finally caving into the painful feeling of being in love.

Emily was stunned, but she wasn't going to miss her second chance. She pulled Y/n in by the pockets of their sweats, standing on her tip-toes to meet their lips in a passionate kiss.

They both felt airy as they got lost in the feeling of home. Holding each other so impossibly close that it was undeniable they were staying together.

Once they pulled apart they just stared at the other. Both trying to find some answer to what they were feeling. Was there anything to say now?

Y/n came out the trance first, a smile gracing their lips. "Why don't we eat? Jackie and Joana are gonna be here soon and will probably want to question us."

"What are they bringing you?" She held Y/n there for a little longer. Enjoying the closeness and safeness. "Fabrics?"

"Project L.E.P." Was all they answered before heating up the other box of food. "I think I'll release it before the one I'm working on now."

Emily watched them move, "what does the L.E.P mean?"

Y/n was quick to shrug. "It's just the name that Jackie and Joana gave it." They dismissed the topic. Eyes trained to the microwave as it counted down the minute. But the small smirk they held told her they knew exactly what it meant. "I got you your usual."

They handed over the box and the two prepped before heading to the couch. Sitting knee to knee as they ate and watched whatever was on.

It was an enjoyable moment, and one Y/n would remember. And that's when the next line came to them. They tried to be subtle to finish up their food before rushing into the study. They grabbed a sticky note, it was red, and they scribbled on it before slapping it against the window.

Soon designs started to be taped up to the windows. The evening sun peaking through the papers. The ideas began to flow and make sense again. They felt relieved at the feeling.

The front door had opened, and the two assistance were quickly to make their presences known.

"Oh my! Y/n! You dog!" Jackie's voice filled the entire apartment at the sight of Emily. Her head snapped to Joana. "This is so not real!"

Y/n forgot how young her assistance were compared to them. They walked out shaking their head. "How many mannequins did you bring?"

"We figured you still had six here, we actually know you do because you never returned them. So we brought the other six. Then each piece is stored in its own bag and box." They stood tall and in line. "We just need to grab everything."

"Well let's get to it. Six mannequins and twelve boxes are not getting up here that easily. Em, you'll stay up here and make the trips from the elevator back. Joana you'll be on elevator duty. Jackie you're unloading and I'll carry everything to the elevator."

It was the perfect team work. And within no time they had everything upstairs and the three were working on setting them up facing the window. Emily, having no hand in sewing or fashion just watched the three move in harmony.

Joana and Jackie worked to just get the outfits on the mannequins as Y/n did touch ups. They worked until the night fell. And it was perfect.

"Y/n you've outdone yourself still. Are we really ready to release project L.E.P?" Joana walked around the designs and took in every seeming detail. "Truly a genius."

Y/n had a glimmer of pride in their eyes. "Yeah. I think it's time." They only broke away to look at Emily who sat on the couch. "What do you think?"

She had dropped her gaze to look at the twelve outfits. "They're absolutely beautiful. They have been since when you first had them all laid out." She stood to come next to them. "Are you ready to release them?"

Y/n inhaled with a smile, exhaling their worries. "Yeah." They grabbed Emily's hand. "I am ready." They were confident.

"So...what are you gonna call it?" Emily went closer to examine the detail as well. The room was silent as everyone thought of something.

Jackie hummed, "mmm what if we keep L.E.P?" She threw out. "It holds meaning, it's cute, it's secretive, secretive is sexy."

"L.E.P in gold writing, your writing. We tease it with close up pictures first. Then we host a big launch party and have them all come out on a runway." Joana began to plan everything out. Already seeing a vision.

"But what is L.E.P?" Emily butted in. Getting silence and all eyes on Y/n, who was looking down to Emily.

"Loving Emily Prentiss," they only could smile even kinder at the reveal. "It'll be the start of a collection. The E.P collection. It's bright, it's new, it's warm and giving. That's how it'll start."

The doorbell had rang. "That must be your team. You two are dismissed. Thank you for the help today. Start your magic and fill me in in the morning. Love you both," they bowed their head. Watching as the two assistants began to pack up.

"Um, Y/n? I have nothing to wear?" Emily glanced down at the big t-shirt and sleep shorts.

"Your outfit was laid out on the bed before we even started touch ups. You go change and I'll greet everyone." Y/n shooed as they moved to the door. Opening and being greeted first with Dave.

"How is she?" He placed a kiss to their cheek before leading everyone in. They all seemed worried at first.

"She's better today. And that's what matters." They hummed. Moving towards the kitchen to begin cooking for everyone.

Stopping at the instant gasp and whispers. The team had seen the designs lined up. "Wait..your the Y/n? Like designer Y/n?" Penelope stared in awe at the outfits.

"Guilty. That's the next line. I guess a sneak peak." They shrugged, smiling as Dave began to prep to help cook. "You can get close, everything is set in stone at this point."

Just then Emily had walked out in a one-of-one dress. Y/n had designed it and worked the first night to make it for her. Telling themselves that it was either a goodbye gift or a welcome home gift.

She looked stunning, and Y/n could take their eyes off of her. Their best model walked into and began to get wine glasses down.

"Emily, you never mentioned Y/n was a fashion designer?!" Penelope was still caught on the fact. Earning a laugh from Y/n.

"Ouch, four years and almost married and you didn't tell them about my job?" They came near Emily, crouching next to her to get out some seasonings.

Emily looked down to them, taking in the moment of being taller for once. "She would've flipped out. I also figured she would've down a background check on you without my knowing." Both glancing to the bubbly woman.

"I...I didn't because I wanted to respect her boundaries." She got out, looking to everyone else who seemed to have knowing looks. "Don't tell me..."

"We all...kinda knew." Tara broke the news, hugging the friend as the look of betrayal washed over her.

Y/n had shrugged from their spot. "I had no part in this." They cleared their name.

~

That night the team had laughed, eaten, drank a few bottles of wines, and enjoyed a nice round of desserts.

A few months has passed and Emily and Y/n began to work things out. She appreciated Y/n's efforts as well even with all the press and media.

There had been an article that really stood out.

And why did you name it L.E.P?

Well....when I had made it I was with this amazing woman. Each piece was meant to represent a moment of our relationship.

And why are you just now releasing it?

We had honestly gotten into a fight a month or so before our wedding. We ended up splitting and I just couldn't come to scrap it. So I locked it into a room until now.

And what made you choose now?

Because she needed me and I realized I would always need her. And this is my gift to her. A token of my love with what I was meant to be doing. Fashion. And what better way than to express love through fashion?

Emily had came over and smothered Y/n with all the love she could after reading that. It made her look at the entire line differently and hold it near to her heart just as well.

They laid next to each other in bed, just staring and having a wordless conversation. But Emily could see it written on Y/n's face. They loved her. And that made her see everything worth fighting for.

"I love you." She had whispered before realizing.

Y/n smiled. "I know." They switched to a cocky smile. Pulling her closer by the waist and bending her just slightly back. "And I love you too. Always will."

They shared one of their most passionate kisses that night. It sparked a new sense of love. Mature, mannered, and workable. As long as they had each other, it would always be workable.

[ivysprophecy]

Am I Okay? Chapter Three

summary: in part twelve rafe mentions a work party and i took that as an invitation to dive into how they interact and think about each other a bit more from rafes perspective!

word count: 1295

a/n: I KNOW I POSTED THIS CHAPTER PREVIOUSLY, it had some mistakes i wanted to fix that i just relaized. also im not saying this is the most accurate portrayal of rafe however its how im using it for the story and i really hope this doesnt suck as much as i think it does! also im so sorry for how long its been since ive written, i shouldve put out a hiatus notice but tbh im not entirely sure im back. well see how it goes lol. thank you for reading!

this shouldnt feel as daunting as it does right now. shes just a friend. its just a dinner party, theres no commitments attached or technicalities to worry over. its just me and her making a boring evening more exciting.

thats all.

i knock on the door and wait patiently for her to answer. i did come a bit early so i wouldnt be surprised if she was still getting ready. she has a tendency to get swept up in the music shes listening to when shes at her vanity.

but as soon as she opens that door and i turn to see her... i suddenly forgot all the convincing i was doing, cause i know after tonight theres gonna be no more hiding just how into her i am. she looks incredible.

it does something to me knowing its the dress i bought her.

"hi," thats all she says and i swear i forgot how to breathe. how does she do this to me?

"hey," my smile widens, "you look... gorgeous. really, you look great."

"cant take all the credit, the dress was all your doing. im just wearing it."

"and you wear it beautifully," just like that, a natural blush replaces the artificial pink on her cheeks "we should get going, are you ready or do you need more time? i can wait."

"i think im ready..." she searches through her purse, going over its contents making sure she has everything. "yep, im ready."

"perfect," i close the door behind her as she walks out, "its a little jarring to see you without your boots."

she chuckles as i open  the car door for her, "i tried to clean up as nice as i could."

"you clean up just fine cowgirl," i cant hide my smile.

the drive to the event was that comfortable kind of quiet. i always let her take aux when we drive together. country music definitely isnt my favorite but she could play a lot worse. besides she throws in the occasional kid cudi or metro boomin for me.

shes thoughtful like that. 

"oh theres valet? how fancy," the valet opens her door for her before i can even get out of the car. i suppose thats his job.

"thats kinda how these things go. theyre a bit much."

"well i think its refreshing being so spoiled. dads done a lot of fancy business but nothing like this. its fun."

taking her hand, i lead her up the stairs into the building, "ill spoil you as much as you want cowgirl. all you have to do is ask."

"youre such a sweet talker city boy. for someone who, supposedly, is a serial bachelor youre an absolute flirt."

"nah, i only flirt with you," i tell her, truthfully. part of me said it to see her all flustered but really there isnt a point in lying about it.

i know everyones got me figured out already, the guys and their girls are better gossipers than the real housewives. not that id know anything about the real housewives. i definitely dont watch that shit. 

"thats exactly what im talking about," shes giggling as we walk into the giant room filled to the brim with investors, partners, staff, clients, a bunch of people i really want to avoid. i was about to lead her over to the bar when we run into someone conveniently.

her father. that i work with. awesome. i knew hed be here, but i thought it might be possible to avoid him.

"cameron! thought i wouldnt be able to catch you tonig- y/n? pumpkin what are you doing here?"

"dad! were in public could you maybe not call me that-"

i let a smile peak through, "pumpkin?" its just too easy to tease her.

"rafe," she sends me a warning, and you know she means business when she uses my ‘government name’ as she likes to call it. i throw my hands up in defense jokingly.

"its good to see you y/l/n," i reach out to shake her dads hand, "i invited her, hoping a friendly face would make the night more barrable. i hope thats alright with you."

"nah its good for her. she needs to get out more. i trust youll take care of her."

"dad!" she raises her tone while keeping a hushed voice, "dont talk about me like im not here. please."

"you kids have fun tonight," her dad wraps an arm around her before pressing a small kiss to her temple before shaking my hand again, "good to see you rafe. take care of my little girl."

i nod with a smile as he walks away, heading over to a table of some other clients i recognize.

"unbelievable! rafe im so sorry that was embarrassing. he doesnt know how to act normal. i shouldnt let him out of the house. i need to put him in a home."

"cowgirl, youre rambling. its fine, i get it. hes a dad its his job to embarrass you a little. besides, pumpkin, i thought it was endearing," theres a smirk on my face as i mention the nickname.

she rolls her eyes leading the way back to the bar like we intended in the first place. leaning against the bar she tells the bartender her order and mine, already knowing id like a whiskey.

how am i not supposed to like this girl so much when she knows me so well? i dont care if we come from two completely different backgrounds. a part of me knows this is the girl for me. if im deserving? thats a different conversation…

taking our drinks off the counter i lead her over to our table for the night, pulling out her seat for her to sit when suddenly i see some investors walking my way.

i knew id have to work a little tonight but it doesnt stop me being disappointed from being pulled away from her. 

the night goes on, i introduce her to a few of the people i know better than others, but i give her the chance to mingle when she wants too. shes so well spoken and holds her own well.

shes mesmerizing.

at one point, i return from the restroom, and when i come back i see that one of the investors sons is making conversation with her. a particularly annoying one at that. hes far too close to her for my liking, touching her arm subtly, desperately trying to make her laugh. but i can see shes only doing it to be polite.

i step up right beside her, my hand naturally falling to the small of her back, innocently of course.

"jared! good to see you man, your dad let you come?"

theres nothing i love to see more than his confidence falter. he needed to be put in his place, what can i say? im just happy i was the one to get to do it.

"something like that. it was good seeing you rafe. nice meeting you...?" he smiled in her direction, asking for one more chance silently, i couldnt contain my laughter.

"have a nice night jared. tell your dad ill see him at mondays meeting," and with that i lead her away in the direction of our table.

"you didnt have to be so rude to him you know?"

"cowgirl, that was hardly rude of me. i was doing him a favor."

she plasters on an offended face, pretending to clutch her pearls, "how dare you, im a catch. hed be so lucky to have me, and so would you."

god, shes such a tease.

believe me gorgeous girl, i know id be so lucky to have you. its all i think about nowadays.

[ masterlist ]

[impishjesters]

Time out for Jax

warning(s): Jax, temper/anger issues, inappropriate reaction, unhealthy coping methods, suggestive/implied sexual content, cursing note(s): I'm at a loss for the correct words I wanted to use in the tags, but Jax's anger is a little overkill and the reader admits to him not having great coping methods when he's really pissed off and at a breaking point. I'm in no way saying that type of coping/behaviour is acceptable, just that it exists. I also want to state that the sexual implications at the end are completely consensual! A/N: I don't know why this popped into my head but the idea of Caine putting Jax in time out only for it to not really be effective is absolutely hilarious. Plus I told my mom about it and she agreed it'd be something Caine would do and fail at.

“That’s it!” Caine shouted. He raised a hand and gave a quick snap, summoning thick iron bars from the ground that formed a small jail cell around Jax. “You sir, are in time out!”

You and a few others let out a surprised gasp. Caine had never gone so far as to actually do something to punish Jax for his behaviour, if you could even really call it a punishment.

Even Jax seemed surprised if you could get past the obvious miffed expression coupled with a few censored curses being thrown at the AI. Caine did nothing in response to the words except fix his clothes that had seemingly gone astray amidst his anger.

If you could call it that.

Caine turned to the rest of you and rushed through a more dramatic rendition of what was basically I Spy meets hide and seek, the activity he initially had started explaining before Jax’s little stunt. As soon as he finished explaining he let out a huff and disappeared with a poof of smoke.

“God dammit Jax!”

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen Caine so upset.”

“Oh, that’s worrying…”

“He didn’t give us a list of what we’re looking for…”

“Oh, maybe this thing?”

Everyone spoke over one another the moment he left, except for Jax who was still irked at being put in time out like a child of all things. “Oh c’mon this is bullshit, he’s the one who wants to keep us entertained.”

“You tried to pants him, baby.” You approached the bars with arms crossed, staring up at your idiot of a boyfriend. “I don’t even think you can pants him.”

He scoffed and copied your stance, crossing his arms. “It’s his fault we’re stuck here, he wants to entertain us then that would’ve been fucking hilariously entertaining.”

Of course, Jax didn’t feel guilt for literally taunting the entity that was likely your captor. He barely found himself feeling guilty when you did something stupid enough to make him laugh. Entertainment was entertainment, no discrimination there.

“How long do you think Caine will keep you in there?” Gangle asked, slowly approaching the two of you.

“Knowing that bastard? Who knows.” he shrugged.

“Hold on a second..” You took a step back and let your eyes roam the little makeshift prison before letting out a laugh. The whole thing was as tall as Jax and had at least enough room for him to stretch, but that wasn’t what made it so hilarious.

“What? What’s so funny?” Jax sneered, this whole thing wasn’t funny in the slightest. Weren’t you supposed to be on his side, as his partner? He was fucking stuck in this thing until you guys either finished this dumb little activity or got his attention to let him out.

The laughter caught the attention of the rest, causing them to slowly inch closer. “What’re they laughing at?” Ragatha asked.

“Heck if I know.” Jax threw his arms up and stared you down. “You gonna tell the rest of the class angel?”

It took a few moments to compose yourself, but the faint giggle never left you. Rather than answer them out loud you simply walked closer to the cage before slipping yourself between the bars, joining Jax. Caine had been so focused on putting Jax in a cage that he didn’t even take into consideration the spacing between the bars. Sure the bars were thick but they were spaced too far to really matter.

“Baby, you were never trapped.”

You walked back through the bars with little difficulty and Jax’s eye twitched with irritation. “You’ve gotta be shitting me…” He slapped a hand over his face and growled, stepping between the bars and finding himself outside the very useless prison. “I’ll kill him…”

“No, you won’t.” A sigh left you, the giggle dying down completely. At least for you, the others were still varying levels of laughter and giggles accompanied by Kinger’s slightly confusing questioning as to what everyone was laughing about. You could hear someone try to explain it to him but focus your attention on the man before you.

Jax was still agitated and like this, he would be nothing but bad company for the others. You turned to Ragatha and asked if they’d be able to handle the activity for now. She agreed, telling the two of you to return before they finished and got Caine back. Who knew how he’d respond to finding Jax outside of his time out punishment?

The others left and you turned back to Jax before offering an open palm. “How about we go to our room and let the others handle the game? I’ll even help you plan a few pranks.” If only to make sure that none of the others suffered too harshly at Jax’s irritation.

Sometimes his outbursts could get particularly nasty and would often result in some less-than-ideal words or pranks aimed at others. You’ve been on the receiving end a few times and while the first few times hurt, you knew it wasn’t anything to take personally over time.

It wasn’t healthy but it beat letting him keep everything pent up. Plus it had its rewards, Jax would always make it up to you in some way or another when that happened. The worse it was, the better the reward, and boy were those rewards worth it.

“Oh angel I’ve already got a list of pranks planned, but what I want to do is blow off this steam in other ways.” He jabbed a thumb behind himself. “Get walkin’ sweetie.”

Oh, this kind of blowing off steam was your favourite. Double reward in your book.

“Yes sir.”

Jax let out a low growl before following close behind. He’d definitely make it up to you for getting him out of that, his own anger clouded his judgment, and had it not been for you he’d still be stuck there. No, he was going to blow your back out and then reward you with a long, tender round two.