Tumgik
#i can't believe i'm finally posting fic again
areyoudoingthis · 9 months
Text
Rated E, 6,971 words.
Ed gets a lazy morning full of warmth and orgasms. - Stede's hair is a random mess of flattened curls and golden strands sticking up wildly in every direction, and there's a bit of drool drying in the corner of his mouth. He looks adorably peaceful as his chest rises and falls at an even rhythm beneath the blankets, and Ed blinks sluggishly and tries to shake off the fog of sleep so he can drink in every minute detail.
Stede's hair is a random mess of flattened curls and golden strands sticking up wildly in every direction, and there's a bit of drool drying in the corner of his mouth. He looks adorably peaceful as his chest rises and falls at an even rhythm beneath the blankets, and Ed blinks sluggishly and tries to shake off the fog of sleep so he can drink in every minute detail.
The hair is probably his fault, he thinks with a self-satisfied smirk as the memories of the previous night start trickling back. A thrum of contentment goes through him as he remembers holding on to it a little too enthusiastically, and Stede being keenly on board with it.
He struggles to wake up fully, fights heavy eyelids and the inviting warmth that threatens to pull him back under, doesn't want to give in to it because Stede is soft and devastatingly cute right next to him, and the whole world seems to be holding its breath just for the two of them. Basking in the perfect stillness of this moment seems a lot more tempting to Ed than sleep.
He stretches his arms over his head with a yawn and shuffles around until he's settled comfortably on his side. His knee twinges when he bends it, and he winces and thinks again that he's gotta get around to finding a new brace for it soon - he can already tell it's gonna bother him all day after the workout he gave it last night. The bruises in his thighs and neck ache a lot more pleasantly, though, and excitement shoots through him when he pictures what he's gonna look like standing naked in front of the mirror.
He shifts his leg around until he finds a position that doesn't hurt his knee, yawns again and enjoys being snug in their big new bed under their soft new blankets. He makes a game of counting the freckles on Stede's nose to stay awake - there are a lot more now that he's stopped carrying his little parasols with him whenever he's in the sun, and Ed loves them but also misses how fucking cute he looked hiding under those. He's up to thirteen and starting to map out constellations on his skin when his mind suddenly grabs onto a thought and pushes it insistently to the front. Is this the first slow, relaxed morning he's had in... years? Maybe ever? The room is bathed in golden sunlight, he woke up with a smile on his face and he feels content and at peace. The bed is warm, Stede's body's warm next to him; Ed feels warm in every way that counts. And not just that, he feels safe and home, for the first time in a long time.
Next thing he knows, blood is rushing in his ears and he can feel his pulse rocket in his neck at the same time as the breath gets stuck inside his chest and every one of his limbs locks up. His heart is racing madly, and he's irrationally terrified of moving an inch and having all of this disappear on him somehow.
He knows that's not how it works, knows Stede and the bed and the house are solid around him and they can't vanish that easily. But things haven't exactly been stable lately, and easy and safe are not things he's used to, especially not first thing in the morning. He's used to his days beginning with a rush and a whole lotta clatter, generally with Izzy yelling at someone before the sun was even up. And the past few months have been even worse than the uszh - he didn't do a lot of waking up because he wasn't sleeping much to begin with, relying on drugs and sheer stubbornness to keep him going instead. His nights and days had been blurring into one big endless nightmare for a while.
He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that part of his life is over now, Stede came back and he loves him and they've retired to become innkeepers, he's left all of that behind. But the memories and the dread of those achingly empty days still cling to him. It's hard to shake them off when they stretched for so long and he can still count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he's woken up next to Stede and been able to enjoy an uncomplicated lazy morning in bed with him.
Their first morning together he was up at dawn while Stede still slept, doing his best to forget everything that happened before he was dragged into his room and had the breath kissed out of him, trying to drown all his demons at once by sinking his leathers to the bottom of the ocean, useless as it was.
Their first few days in the cabin have been fun (because anywhere is fun with Stede), but not exactly restful - there were piles of dust and cobwebs and bird shit everywhere when they got here, not to mention the weeds and a critter or two, and they really shot themselves in the foot by not bringing any furniture with them. For days they've been making do with a few blankets on the hard floor and getting up with the sun to get this place cleaned up and as close as they could to inhabitable. This is his first morning waking up in their brand new bed, in their neat, bug free room, with nowhere to be in a hurry and no one demanding shit from him. It's disconcerting in its newness.
He tries to ignore his racing mind and relax back into his previous calm state, fills his lungs with the unfamiliar smells of their new home and the familiar scent of the man sleeping peacefully next to him, focuses on the warmth of the sunlight caressing his face, listens to Stede's soft snores and watches his eyelids flutter in sleep. He tells his brain firmly to stop being a dick so fucking early in the morning, but it's hard to get it to shut up once it's awake, especially when it's running a mile a minute and making his heart beat loudly in his ears like it expects an attack any moment.
He gives up on it after a few minutes, turns around on the bed and burrows into Stede, seeking body heat and the reassurance of his presence by Ed's side. Stede shuffles in his sleep, tugs Ed closer as if he's welcoming him home even in dreams. Ed sighs happily and lets himself be pulled, shelters comfortably in his arms and feels his heartbeat beginning to slow down already. It's amazing what Stede's touch can do to him, it's like his mind and body react to him more readily than they do to Ed's own commands sometimes.
He sighs as his body releases all the tension it was holding and decides then and there that this is how he wants to wake up every morning from now on, warm from head to toe in a room brimming with sunlight, sheets soft under his skin and bed full of the man he loves, with no one demanding shit from him.
He's hovering in that pleasant state between awake and asleep when Stede shifts some more against him and Ed can suddenly feel his erection pressing between them. His mind rushes back to full wakefulness, heart rate picking up again for an entirely different, far more enjoyable reason this time. He smiles in delight - this is already much more like his idea of a perfect morning than it was five minutes ago. He pushes closer and tilts his hips into Stede's body, repeats the motion a few times and feels his own cock stir in interest.
The sheets rustle behind him and Stede's face presses into Ed's back, so close that he can feel his delicate eyelashes brush his skin as he blinks his eyes open, hear the vibrations as he rasps, voice still drenched in sleep, "Morning, darling."
Ed beams, much happier now that Stede has joined him in being awake and their day can start.
"Mornin' babe."
He grinds into him a little more intentionally, enjoys the enticing drag of Stede's cock against his ass and is really fucking pleased they went to bed naked last night.
"Mmm, feels nice," Stede murmurs, arm tightening around Ed's middle, cheek nuzzling his skin. He smiles against his shoulder blade and his breath tickles the nape of Ed's neck as he asks, "Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah, bed's great, 's like lying on a cloud." He yawns, feels the remains of something unsettled still stirring within him so he adds, "But I missed ya."
"While you were asleep?" Stede's tone is playful, like Ed just said something really funny. But Ed means it, has spent weeks missing him, months, years even. Probably his whole life.
"What if I did," he replies, and it comes out a little petulant.
He doesn't want to talk about where his mind was before Stede woke up. Wants even less to own up to how lost he was barely a week ago, unable to sleep and crying on the floor of the captain's cabin on the Revenge, playing with dolls painted to look like the two of them and believing that Stede had left him for good, feeling the lowest he's ever felt in his life as a result.
He means so much more than a few hours when he says he missed him, but he doesn't want to get into it while they're cuddling in bed after having barely woken up. Doesn't want to crack himself open and start rummaging around in his tenderest bits when he's already almost ruined his own perfect morning by panicking before he was even awake for half an hour. It's all still too raw and it's too fucking early in the day to be bringing up that heavy shit anyway.
They have talked over the past few days, a bit here and there, but the time they spent apart still seems like such a tangled thing to start unraveling. He's aware that they’ll have to talk about it eventually if they want to avoid crashing on the same rocks and shredding themselves against them all over again, but it's scary as fuck if he's being honest. And he doesn't want to think or talk about that or anything else right now. All he wants is for Stede to make the bad memories go away, to hold him close and fuck him slow and deep while everything feels sleepy and quiet around and inside him.
"Missed you too," Stede answers, easy as breathing, brushes his hair aside to drop a gentle kiss behind his ear that feels a lot like understanding and acceptance. The dark thoughts scatter like shadows, like Stede's opened a window somewhere inside Ed's mind and now bright sunlight's streaming in like the tide.
He hums at the contrast between Stede's soft lips and the tickle of his early morning stubble on a sensitive spot, delights in the lazy pinpricks of heat it sends scattering through him and the way his mind has gone quiet again at the touch. 
Stede strokes a warm hand down the line of Ed's body, lavishes soft, affectionate kisses between his shoulders that have him melting into syrupy bliss.
Ed keeps grinding idly against him, chases his own sweet pleasure in Stede's body while the morning stretches hazy and indulgent around them. Stede licks and sucks at his pulse point, lets gentle fingers roam in a lazy caress over his skin, and Ed's floating dreamily on a cloud of want and slow rolling heat.
"Need you, Stede," he sighs, barely even aware of what he means other than more and closer, his motions becoming more insistent with every press of Stede's lips and tongue on his neck.
Stede holds him tight to his chest as he starts rocking against him in turn. Ed's back bows and his breath quickens, heat pooling thick in his hips and his chest with the intoxicating combination of Stede's hard cock and tender touch. 
"What do you want, darling?" he murmurs, low and intentional, and Ed shivers as his tone shoots electric down his spine.
"Don't wanna move," he answers, and he doesn't, this right here is perfect already.
Stede chuckles in his ear, warm breath ghosting over his skin and making every hair on Ed's body stand on end. A low moan escapes his lips before he can bite it back.
"'s nice," he defends.
"It is," Stede agrees. "But I meant a bit more specifically."
Ah, of course, Stede's still learning his way around this, isn't he, around sex and intimacy and all the wondrous things they can get up to together. It's so fucking weird how it feels like they've been doing this -being Ed-and-Stede, openly in love and having a go at this relationship thing- for a hundred years, but it's actually only been a few days. And it's not like Ed isn't getting used to all of it too, not like Stede hasn't introduced him to a whole lotta new and firsts himself.
He dreams of five, ten, fifteen years from now, when their bodies know each other so well that they can move together on their own, know all the right spots to touch that will make the other shiver, where to kiss and where to bite down, when to be gentle and when to be rough, how to use their hands and tongues to make each other scream. He wants to spend his life learning Stede inside and out, thrills in anticipation of the journey that will get them there.
"Just keep your hands on me," he asks. He wants Stede to keep touching him for another two or three weeks for a start, thinks he might starve if he stops.
"Happy to," Stede agrees.
And he takes the request to heart. He slides an arm under Ed and splays his hand against his stomach to hold him steady as he rocks against him, unhurried and uncoordinated, chasing mindless friction more than any goal in particular. He traces the fingertips of the other one all the way from his hipbone to his armpit, has Ed's eyes falling shut and a sigh escaping his lungs with how good it feels to be touched so sweetly.
Stede presses his lips over and over to the sleep-warm skin of his back as his hand wanders over the rest of his body, skates up his inner thigh and his stomach to run through his chest hair, lingers there a bit longer than anywhere else. Ed smiles. Stede seems to have a fascination with all the hair on his body, and he's more than happy to indulge it.
He turns his head in a silent request and Stede doesn't make him wait, meets his lips for a wet, sloppy kiss that's so fucking hot it's got Ed halfway to hard in an instant. He thinks he could start writing poems about how good kissing Stede is, much better stuff to write about than what inspired his last song.
He gasps into Stede's mouth when his palm drags indolently over his tits and catches on a nipple, hisses and arches back eagerly against him when he does it again, on purpose this time.
"You're sensitive here," Stede comments, as if he's making an observation and plans to start taking notes any minute. He probably is, the lunatic.
"Yeah," Ed replies, although it comes out more as a breathy moan than an actual word, because Stede's gently rolling the nipple against the pad of his thumb now.
"You really liked it when I sucked it into my mouth last night," he breathes hotly into his ear, and Ed's brain scrambles.
"I really fuckin' like your mouth, as a general rule."
Stede groans and snaps his hips a little harder, and Ed makes a mental note of his own that goes Stede really fuckin' likes it when I praise him in bed . He's pleased that they're well on their way to reaching his five year sex goals, good thing they're both overachievers.
"You certainly seem to like having it on your cock," Stede says, and Ed's mouth waters at his brazenness and the way he says it, like he's savoring the word on his tongue the same way they've discovered he likes to do with his actual dick. 
"I like it when you're using it to say dirty shit that drives me insane, too," Ed volleys back. This seems to be rapidly escalating into a dirty talk competition of some sort that Stede appears determined to win.
"Hmm, good to know," he smirks, and proceeds to latch his lips onto one of the bruises he left on Ed's neck last night and suck, hard. Ed moans and shudders, feels it reverberate all the way through him and settle molten between his legs.
"Fuck, that's great, too. Don't stop."
Stede's a really quick study, keeps playing with Ed's nipples as he nibbles on his neck like a fucking hungry vampire, rolls them between his fingers and pinches them, experiments with roughness and pressure, and before long Ed's blood is boiling with urgent need.
He starts mindlessly humping his hips into the air, hunger scorching through every inch of him and threatening to unravel him, dick aching to be touched. He decides to do something about it and tangles his fingers with Stede's, pulls his hand down to where he needs it, to where his cock is hard and leaking for him, all for him.
Stede moans deep in his chest and does exactly what Ed wants, fists his dick in the warm palm of his hand and begins stroking him slowly.
"Like that, babe. Love your hands," Ed hums in satisfaction, rocking his hips into the touch.
He swims in rapturous heat as Stede spreads the precome beading at the tip over the head and slides his fingers loosely around it, enough for it to feel fucking fantastic but not to drive him towards the edge anytime soon, like he's planning to take his time with Ed's pleasure this morning. Ed's breath hitches at the prospect.
Stede hooks a leg over his waist and smooths his foot languidly along his shin, makes sparks dance on his skin with the intimate touch as he fans the flames gathering in his belly by pumping his cock at an agonizingly slow pace at the same time. Ed grunts and bucks his hips, feels impossibly, maddeningly close to Stede with his body all over him like this.
He goes to move his own hand out of the way but Stede holds on to it, whispers filthily in his ear, "Show me how you like it."
Ed's eyes roll into the back of his head, and an obscenely loud moan tears out of him as whatever remained of his brain evaporates at the shameless invitation. Stede's gonna fucking kill him one of these days with the things that come out of his mouth.
He blinks a few times until he can focus again and reaches his free hand under the pillow, finds the oil he had the forethought to tuck out of the way last night before it ended up spilling all over their nice new sheets. Stede gets the hint and helps him get the flask open, and Ed pours some on his hand before he stoppers it again. It slips from his fingers and thuds onto the mattress when Stede's slick palm closes around him in a loose stroke.
"Fuck, Stede, the way you touch me."
"Help me make it even better," Stede murmurs, striking the perfect balance between suggestion and demand to have Ed's brain freezing and then hastening to comply.
He tangles their fingers back together, guides Stede to put the right amount of pressure around him and starts moving their hands over his length. His mouth falls open on a soundless gasp at the unexpected onslaught of sensation. They've barely even gotten started and it's already so much better than doing this to himself, and it honestly doesn't surprise him - Stede's hands on him are enough to have fireworks going off behind his eyelids under pretty much any circumstances. And holding hands around his dick as he shows him how he likes to be touched is one of the sweetest, hottest things anyone's ever asked him to do in bed. 
He pulls out all the stops, shows him how to switch between squeezing his fist up and down the shaft and focusing more delicate touches on the head, gasps every time the pads of Stede's fingers brush against his heated flesh. He can feel his eyes glued to every motion of their joint hands, decides he might as well give him a show and presses his thumb into the slit, follows it with a twist of his wrist that has his toes curling and a string of moans and curses dropping from his lips.
"God, you're beautiful like this, Ed," Stede pants, voice full of wonder, like he's watching a really pretty sunset or staring at a nice painting.
Ed shivers and turns his head to find his lips again, trades messy kisses back and forth as he keeps fucking himself with Stede's hand. He's heard a lot of things during sex in the past, some of them praises even, but no one's ever called him beautiful and love and darling like Stede does, like Ed's something precious and cherished and he needs to make sure he hears it as he's making him come undone. 
Stede bites his lower lip greedily as he lets Ed use his fingers however he likes, and Ed moans into his mouth and keeps showing him every move he has. He can imagine the cogs whirring inside Stede's skull, memorizing details about his dick the same way he memorized the parts of a ship before he ever got on one or fifty different names for the wind that he likes to bring up at random. The idea is insanely fucking hot.
"Let me try it now?" Stede asks after a while of letting Ed fuck his hand with abandon. Ed curses as white hot lust rushes through him, setting every last corner of him aflame.
Jesus fuckin' Christ on a cracker.
He removes his fingers and this time Stede lets him, proceeds to imitate everything Ed showed him with dedicated precision, has Ed dissolving into a blissful puddle in his arms in no fucking time at all. It'd be a little embarrassing, the way Stede manages to take him apart within seconds with a few touches, if he didn't feel so fucking safe and loved at the same time as he's going mad with the pleasure cascading brightly through every inch of him.
Stede keeps working him in his fist until he's got jerking off Ed's dick down to an art, starts growing bold and adding a few flourishes of his own eventually. Ed moans with every heated stroke of his fingers, can't stop himself from rocking into them and seeking more.
"You're so sweet, darling," Stede says, licking his shoulder blade. "You even taste sweet."
"That's probably the oil from last night's massage you're tasting," Ed grunts. He doesn't think his skin tastes of anything in particular, except maybe sea salt, and probably not even that anymore.
"Mm, I'm not sure," Stede goes on. "I'll need to do more research before I can give you an official conclusion."
Ed snorts. What a loon. He's so absurdly gone on him.
Stede wraps his fingers around the head of Ed's cock and flicks his wrist just like he showed him, and Ed arches his back and presses his hips forward into it, delights in the flames that spark through him as Stede's fingers touch him exactly the way he likes. It may not even take them five years after all, they may have their whole sex life figured out by the end of the year at this pace.
And then Stede's hand leaves his dick altogether to cup his balls and play with them lightly, and Ed whines in surprise as much as pleasure, writhes helplessly under his touch, dizzy with lust and drunk on him. He didn't even show him this, this is one hundred percent Stede and his fucking fascinating mind at work.
He keeps rolling his balls gently between his fingers until Ed feels like he's about to snap.
"Stede ," he whimpers.
"Is this working for you?" he asks, sounding both genuinely curious and a little smug at the same time, as if he already knows what the answer's going to be.
"Yeah," he replies, honest and raw. It's not like it's a secret; Ed isn't playing hard to get here.
Stede hums and kisses his jaw, switches to stroking his fingers down Ed's thighs, a barely there whisper that makes goosebumps break out wherever they go. He moves promisingly close to his dick and Ed tries to thrust into it, but Stede draws away to rake his fingernails lightly through his pubic hair instead, and it pulls a choked gasp from Ed's throat. He presses his fingers gently into one of the purple bruises that decorate Ed's thighs, and Ed outright whines at the pleasure-pain that pulses through him. Every touch feels like silk and lava, has fire catching on his skin and in his veins. Stede's hands are fucking magical.
Stede never stops rolling his hips as his hands tease and caress, and it's all driving Ed mad, the warmth of his body pressed so close, the tantalizing drag of his cock against his ass and the way it catches on his rim every now and then, the fingers now stroking slowly up the underside of his dick, sparking sheer, blazing need in his core. It's like Stede’s in no hurry to go anywhere, and Ed suddenly needs more, needs to feel him all over him, to be drowning in him until there's nothing else left in the world.
He reaches a hand behind him and digs his fingers into Stede's waist, presses himself as close to him as he can and cants his hips.
" Ed ," Stede groans, clutching him tightly.
"Want your dick inside me."
He feels Stede shudder and bury a whine in his neck.
"I won't last long, darling. I'm already close, you feel fantastic like this," he says, running his fingers delicately over the swell of his ass as he ruts his cock between his cheeks. "And watching you fall apart under my touch... God, Ed, you're absolutely perfect."
Ed feels warmth flush all over him at the praise, feels suffused with so much love he doesn't think his body will be enough to hold it. It drips liquid like honey through his veins, settles golden in his heart.
"Doesn't matter," he reassures, voice saturated with affection and need. "Wanna feel you come inside me."
Stede moans brokenly and stills against him, takes a few deep breaths and says, sounding strained, "You're not helping matters, Edward."
Ed chuckles. Like he should be sorry for a little begging after every dirty thing that's come out of Stede's mouth this morning?
Stede nips his shoulder. "Keep that up and you won't get what you want," he scolds.
Fuck, that's hot. He likes it when Stede tells him what to do, has for a long time, decided it was maybe his third new favorite thing in the world as soon as he heard the words I'm your captain come out of his mouth (the first two are Stede in general and the way he's always so gentle and attentive with him, in bed and out of it). He makes it his immediate goal to see what it takes to get him to do it again.
Stede pats the bed until he finds the oil where Ed dropped it earlier, and soon enough he's got a slick finger teasing at his entrance. Ed thrills with anticipation for what's coming next - if Stede's hands feel wonderful on him, they're even better in him. Stede draws lazy circles around the muscle, pushes in tentatively with two fingers at once, and Ed's whole mind flares bright at the pressure right where he needs it.
"You're still so loose," Stede purrs, stroking his fingers slowly in and out of his body. His voice sounds awed at the discovery.
"Yeah, happens when you got fucked into the mattress a few hours ago."
It doesn't hurt that Stede's been reducing him to putty for what feels like ages with a single hand on his dick, either, or that he gave Ed the best massage of his fucking life last night. Every muscle in Ed's body feels relaxed and loose.
Stede groans and bites down on his shoulder again, thrusts his fingers deep into the heat of Ed's body. Ed gasps and writhes in his arms.
"Fucking hell, Edward."
"Like the thought of fuckin' me often enough that I'll always be ready for you?" he challenges.
Stede crowds closer, brushes Ed's ear with his lips, whispers his next words right into it, "Are you doing it on purpose, darling?"
Ed feels strangely caught out even though he has been literally asking for it, reels for a second until he reminds himself that this is Stede, he can trust him with anything. He exhales the breath he's been holding and answers, "Yeah. What are you gonna do about it?"
Stede responds by crooking his knuckles sharply and keeping the pads of his fingers pressed against his prostate until Ed goes dizzy with it, whimpers at the unrelenting waves of pleasure rolling through him. The world fades for a few seconds, is reduced to Stede's fingers and frantic heat and Ed could swear the sun's come down from the sky to burn inside him for a moment.
"Look at that, you can be quiet after all," Stede growls. "You wanted me inside you," he punctuates the words with a deep thrust that has Ed's breath hitching and sharpening into a whine. "Wait until I've given you what you want," he does it again. "And then you can talk as filthy as you like."
Ed's mind blanks at the order, mouth falling shut and brain emptying of anything but the need to do as he's told. Stede's fingers are stretching him so sweetly already, he can be good and wait to have his cock.
For the next few minutes he takes everything Stede gives him as quietly as he can, focuses on the firestorm gathering in his hips and practices being patient. He's helpless to staunch the needy little sounds that escape him with every knuckle that slips past his entrance as he works him open, but he doesn't break until he can feel the blunt head of Stede’s dick press against him and slip into his hole.
"Can I talk now?" he bursts, at last. It sounds breathless to his own ears.
Stede laughs, a ragged and frenzied thing.
"Can't promise this won't be over really quickly if you do," he grunts as he sinks into him inch by lovely inch. He presses closer and closer until he's buried inside him balls deep, and Ed floods with ecstasy at finally getting what he's been craving.
"Don't care," he pants. And he really doesn't, just being joined like this with him is everything. "You feel fuckin' amazing inside me, Stede. Fuckin' love the way you fill me."
" Darling ," Stede moans, and rests his forehead on Ed's shoulder, breathes heavily like he's struggling to keep it together as much as Ed is, like this is all a little overwhelming for him as well. "You feel wonderful, too. Always so good for me." Ed dissolves into dazzling brightness at the neverending praise.
Stede plants his foot on the bed and drapes himself over Ed's back, starts rolling his hips at an easy pace. It's fucking great to feel him move against him his in this position. He's curled tight around Ed's body, blanketing him better than any fabric he's ever covered himself with, skin soft and warm, muscles hard underneath, holding him close against his chest as if he never wants to let go.
Ed's heart beats thunderously at the closeness, a river of fire flowing through his body with every maddening drag of Stede's cock inside him. He pants and lets himself be tugged by the current, rides the waves of pleasure Stede keeps him swimming in and knows that he's safe as long as he's got him, could never drown here.
It's all already so much, and then Stede adjusts the angle until he finds the one that makes Ed curse as stars erupt behind his eyelids.
"There?"
"Yeah, shit, right there," he groans.
Stede feeds the heat coursing liquid inside him with every snap of his hips, wrings every ounce of ecstasy he can out of him. This is all Ed wants for the rest of his life.
"Does it feel good, sweetheart?" Stede asks, pulls almost all the way out and slides hotly back in.
"So good, Stede. Fuck , do that again." Ed knows he's babbling a little incoherently, can't be bothered to give a single fuck about it. His mind is blissfully quiet and he's dying for more, and Stede is so good at giving him what he needs.
Stede builds up a slow, burning rhythm, brushes relentlessly against Ed's prostate and takes him higher and higher with every thrust. Ed shuts his eyes tight and focuses on the warmth of Stede draped over him, the way his lips and tongue brush over his skin everywhere they can reach, the blazing pleasure unfurling inside him. He loses track of what's coming out of his mouth, could guess it's probably a combination of Stede's name and shameless pleas for more.
"I love your body, Ed," Stede whispers like a confession as he moves inside him. "Love all of you so much."
The words wash over Ed like the sun glittering on the waves, light him up from the inside until he feels like his skin should be glowing with it. He practically sobs Stede's name as he intertwines his fingers with the ones pressed against his stomach, pushes back into him until he's as close as he can be.
Stede kisses his shoulder, his neck, his scalp, and Ed feels every press of his feverish lips as another declaration of love, thinks of names written in permanent ink and vows of his own he'd like to make some day. He feels bathed inside and out by the sunlight streaming through the window, by the warmth of the love being poured into his body.
"Love you, Stede," he whispers back. "Love you so much."
Stede buries his face between Ed's shoulders, snaps his hips a little faster, and they pant together as he fucks him just like he wanted, gives Ed exactly what he needed when he woke up feeling out of sorts about his life being too nice all of a sudden. His brain is definitely on board with too nice now, would like another hundred mornings like this one, please and thank you.
Stede's cock is perfect inside him, all velvety heat and delicious pressure as it stretches and fills him just the way he likes. It sparks something wild in him every time it slides in and out of his hole, every time it presses just right against the perfect spot inside him. He's so close already, and then Stede snakes a hand around his waist to wrap around his dick again, and Ed is melting, surrounded by red-hot flames on all sides.
"So close, Stede. Fuck. Please don't stop, please, please ," he begs.
Stede's movements stutter and his pace becomes a little more frantic, but he doesn't stop, keeps driving heatedly into Ed's body as his hand works his cock in the tight, hot circle of his fist in tandem with his hips. Heat swells inside Ed like a hurricane with every touch, with every inch of their skin pressing together, with every needy noise Stede lets out above him.
"Yes, yes . Come on, Ed." Stede sounds halfway to wrecked already, pace turning all the way from sweet and lazy to erratic and desperate as he speaks. Ed's almost ready to let go, too. "You feel - ah - too good, darling. I'm- god , I'm gonna come."
"Go ahead, babe, let me feel you."
Stede moans his name, keeps thrusting rapidly for a few more seconds before he buries himself deep inside Ed once, twice, and spills hotly within him.
Ed whimpers and comes right after, the feeling of Stede's cock pulsing inside him, of his come slick and messy in his hole enough to push him over the edge, too.
He's engulfed by heat, mind and body full of nothing but Stede and molten pleasure. It's like hitting the water at a hundred miles an hour and executing a perfect dive, the waves parting easily around him to lick welcoming tongues of fire all over his skin. Pure ecstasy ripples blindingly through him until it's all that's left and Ed is being consumed by it.
He makes a mess of Stede's hand as he comes all over it in hot, thick white ropes that seem to go on forever. Stede keeps working him through it, milks every last drop out of him until Ed starts shaking from too good and too much.
Stede releases him then, wipes his hand on the already ruined sheets and runs it over Ed's feverish skin in tender, soothing motions, whispers praises into his ear - so good, Ed, love you, you were amazing -, until Ed comes down and sinks against him, limbs heavy and mind light. He drinks in the warmth of Stede's body, feels his heart beat wildly against his back and cherishes the proof of his life flowing strong and steady through him.
"You gonna keep talking like that all day?" he asks, in between gulps of breath. 
"Would it be such a big problem for you?"
He chooses that moment to pull out of him. Ed shudders.
"Fuck me, Stede. We won't get a thing done if you keep running that mouth of yours."
"I remember you having a few dirty things of your own to contribute," Stede remarks as he brushes Ed's damp hair out of his face, strokes his palm lazily down the curve of his waist. "Had to shut you up about it, in fact."
And he did it so beautifully, treated Ed just like he needed. He feels tingly all over at the memory, will make him do it again if it gets him fucked this thoroughly then, too. He brings Stede's hand to his lips and kisses his palm, a wordless thank you for taking such good care of him.
They lie contentedly together, exchanging soft touches as they wait for their breaths to even out and their hearts to settle. It's peaceful and perfect, until Stede's stomach rumbles loudly in the quiet room. Ed laughs until he has tears in his eyes.
"Maybe we can table our discussion until after breakfast," Stede concedes.
"Oh, it was a discussion, was it?"
"Would you like to think about it as more of a healthy competition?"
Ed pounces on him and kisses him until he's stolen all the air from his lungs. Stede flounders in shock for a fraction of a second before he's kissing back with equal enthusiasm, buries a hand in Ed's hair like he'd be more than happy to go at it all over again. Ed's stomach is the one that interrupts them this time.
"Make me breakfast while I run us a bath and I'll let you win this time, 'kay?"
"That wouldn't be sportsmanlike, darling," he complains, and pinches his ass.
"I'm starving here, babe." He sits on Stede’s hips and gives him one of the pleading, wide eyed looks that he's quickly discovered will get him anything he wants.
"Oh, alright, that's uncalled for, Ed. You're playing dirty."
"Thought that's what you were all about these days," he teases good naturedly as he bends down to steal one more kiss from Stede’s lips.
He feels cheerful and airy as he gets out of bed and slips on his favorite soft robe, stumbling start to the morning all but forgotten after being wrapped in Stede's warmth and loved so earnestly and absolutely. 
Stede comes to join him, wraps his arms around him from behind and smiles as he hooks his chin on Ed's shoulder.
"I win, anyway. I get to hold you forever," he declares.
Ed's knees go a little weak at that. He didn't know it was possible to love anyone this much before Stede, didn't think he was even capable of loving like this. He remembers standing on the edge of a cliff and declaring himself unlovable, remembers the hair-raising fall that followed, too.
But he was willing to do something about it after all, wasn't he? He's learning to ask for what he wants, learning to give himself permission to accept what Stede gives freely, learning to believe that he means every praise he gives, every I love you he gifts him. He turns around in his arms and kisses him tenderly.
"And I get to be held by you." He smiles against his lips. "I think we both win."
Stede's eyes shine brighter than the morning sun.
Ed can hear him sing all the way from the bathroom as he makes breakfast for two, a catchy, cheery tune. He manages not to burn the toast this time.
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doodlejoltik · 20 days
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grass knot
[~4.5k words, read it here or on Ao3. tagged with Volo and Lance since they appear as prominent characters; Rei-centric]
Why is it that even the thought of confiding in Akari, his closest friend, makes something constrict in his chest, choking out the words?
Rei, caught in the stirrings of a new arc, tries to rise to its call, but trips over the past at every turn.
A full rewrite of that Mysterious Stones chapter where Volo first shows up, from Rei’s POV, plus a bit more. Written mostly before the Arceus Arc began.
(Setting expectations: a lot of this fic is just Rei Thinking About Stuff haha. Love getting into his head! His characterisation is a little bit different/more nuanced compared to the other Rei oneshot I wrote; hopefully you'll still be along for the ride if you've read that one!)
-
“Show me thy bond.” It echoes inside Rei’s skull, down to the very bone, the same as in his earliest memories. He nearly buckles under its weight, but it's a welcome feeling.
After so long without direction, this is a relief. Arceus has finally spoken.
The words fit perfectly with the half-remembered fragments Rei had received some weeks ago in the middle of the night. Why hadn't they been intelligible then? What makes now different? The sync stones ultimate are one factor, of course. Maybe Arceus draws power from them, which is strange to say of a deity, but from what he knows of the Plates, it might not be so far-fetched.
Prince Lear disperses the murmuring crowd; so, the audience all heard it too, not just those on the arena floor. Professor Bellis congratulates Bettie. Cynthia, Lance and Steven whisper among themselves. And his mind still whirls with new theories as they gather together.
What does Arceus want? 
‘Seek out all Pokemon’ had meant completing the Pokedex. At least, that’s what he’d assumed. Now, this time, Arceus likely means for them to showcase bonds with their Pokemon, given the context. But what does that actually entail?
Cynthia’s words cut above everyone else's. “Rei. Was that voice…?”
All eyes are on him. He breathes deeply, steeling himself, as the familiar weight of it settles in. Things are moving, now. 
“Yes. I'm certain. That was —”
“Indeed! That was a message from Arceus!”
His words catch in his throat. Off-balance, suddenly, as all his thoughts fall away, replaced by a swooping feeling he can't quite identify —
He whirls around.
Volo is here.
He takes a few steps back, an involuntary half-stumble, before remembering himself. 
Those flashes of movement he's been seeing, the feeling of being watched, a Togepi, unattended: they’re all now terrifyingly validated. He'd half thought them a product of his overactive mind.
“Excuse-moi, pardon me… but who are you?” Professor Bellis ventures. 
“I'm Volo — a humble merchant who loves history and mythology!” With that, he flashes a winning smile. Rei could laugh at the sheer audacity of it all, but his thoughts are still strewn across the dusty ground, scattered, and they slip from his grasp as he tries to gather them up. Whatever sense of gravity he’d felt upon hearing Arceus’ voice has completely lifted.
“But more importantly!” Volo continues. “When the arena shone brightly, I also heard that voice.” He brings his hand up to point at the air with enthusiastic emphasis, a gesture still so terribly familiar. Rei clenches his fists, feeling the nails dig into his skin. Not really out of anger. More as a reminder.
The last time he’d seen Volo had been. Well. Memorable. But that isn’t the image that smiles back at him now, tripping him up. He's in Gingko uniform again, complete with ridiculous oversized backpack, which Rei had thought discarded, up there on the peak. Apparently not. Had Volo returned later, still seething, to collect his things? The concept is strangely hilarious.
“I wonder… these sync stones ultimate… might they be some sort of test from Arceus? If we could show him that ‘bond’ he desires —”
“Sorry, test? Arceus?” Cynthia interrupts with a frown, holding a hand out. “What makes you say that?”
“Why, it's quite simple. Arceus' presence was summoned by these stones, in this exhibition, and he requests us to further show our bond. What else could he desire?” Volo says, gesturing widely. 
Rei finally pulls himself upright — scrapes his thoughts together into something resembling coherence. The initial shock has drained away, settling into a distant sort of apprehension. He watches silently. Volo’s not really saying anything too unreasonable, but where is this leading? 
There’s so much he doesn’t know. What has Volo been doing, all this time? How long has he been on Pasio? What does he hope to gain, approaching them like this?
He’ll let Volo continue, then. It's an opportunity for some of those questions to be answered.
(And it gives Rei time to think of what to say.)
“Well, put that way, that does make sense,” Steven nods along. “Should we organise for more trainers to try the stones, then?” 
“Oui, I would love to gather more data!” Professor Bellis answers. “However, the stones are still quite volatile. There is progress on this, yes, but for now, I would like to limit their use, capisci?” 
At this, Bettie speaks up. “Yeah, it was weird.” She runs a hand through her Pikachu’s fur, the mouse curled up lazily in her arms. Nobody in Hisui was quite that affectionate with their Pokemon. Certainly not Akari, though she'd grown closer with her own Pikachu over time. As for himself, Decidueye had been standoffish, averse to being carried even as a baby Rowlet. Well, actually — as his distracted mind digs deeper into memory, he recalls — there had been Volo and his Togepi. 
He casts that errant thought away, buries it deep once again. Bettie is still speaking.
“And it was like nothing was there, at first, and Pikachu and I had to concentrate really hard. And then — whoosh! Wow! Overwhelming,” she shifts Pikachu’s weight to one arm to gesture with emphasis, “and all at once.”
“And this is when Arceus spoke,” Lance asks. 
Bettie nods, now subdued. “It was a rush! I think you guys could handle it, but I dunno if everyone could.”
“If I may,” and all attention returns to Volo. “It seems the stones can currently be used by trainers with particularly powerful convictions, and bonds with their Pokemon,” he gestures with a smile to Bettie. She blushes. 
At the casual flattery, Rei can't help the small frown that twists onto his face. It seems innocent enough, but compliments and niceties can so easily mask true intent. 
Especially with Volo.
Volo continues. “Perhaps we might solve this by way of a tournament, of sorts. Allowing Arceus to witness our talent and dedication, with the victor bestowed the honour of using the stones! Of course, the winner of such a competition would have the fortitude necessary to handle such power.”
Well, taking that to its logical end… Volo wants to win, and be granted this ‘honour’ he so conveniently proposed. But why go to all this trouble? The stones appear out in the streets quite often — apparently, found even by preschoolers. Volo should have no trouble obtaining them.
Does he know something they don't?
“Bettie here led the first winning PML team, did she not?” At this, the girl in question smiles Mareepishly. “And that is why she was the one to demonstrate the stones, I presume,” Volo inclines his head towards the Champions.
Informed guess, or something more? He thinks back on half-seen, furtive movements, and wonders. 
“That's right,” Steven confirms. “Bettie is a shining example to us: a leader of the next generation. We decided there was no better choice.” 
“So you suggest we hold another tournament,” Lance says thoughtfully. “Well, there is precedent. Prince Lear,” he turns to the Prince, whom Rei had honestly half forgotten was there. “What do you think?”
Before Lear can reply, Volo reinserts himself into the conversation. “It would be a grand tournament, truly fitting of Pasio's reputation. Why, perhaps, the deity Arceus might even be compelled to descend —”
Ah. So that’s what he intends. “Aren't you getting ahead of yourself there?” Rei interrupts. He means to sound stern, but it comes out sounding more incredulous. Not at the idea itself, but at how brazenly it’s admitted.
“Perhaps,” Volo says with a careless shrug. He doesn’t acknowledge Rei any differently than the others, still maintaining their inadvertently shared ruse. “It's only speculation, of course, but it is exciting to think about!”
“Hmph! I believe I was the one being addressed,” Prince Lear declares, arms crossed. His red shades flash dangerously, eyes hidden under their glint. Directed at him, it's almost like the full glare of an Alpha Pokemon.
Rei’s face flushes with heat to the tips of his ears. Great time he picked to enter the discussion. He quietly ducks his head down; the Prince is in charge, here, after all. He'd rather not test his patience. 
Meanwhile, Volo just smiles, seemingly unfazed. 
There's a part of him that really wants to know how Volo does that. It's just — he's so confident. How can he be so sure that everything will work out in his favour?
“A grand tournament,” Prince Lear ponders, tapping his foot. “And what could be grander than the second Pokemon Masters League?”
“Indeed!” Volo beams. “I'm sure the audience would love to see the clash between a king and a deity, would they not?”
Lear's tapping stills. His guarded stance loosens; he's taken aback. Volo emphasised king, and oh, Lear's official title is Prince. Hm.
There's something more deliberate about it beyond just casual flattery. 
Lear uncrosses his arms and seems at a loss, for a moment, on where to put them before straightening up with his hands on hips. “Is that so?” He laughs. “I like the sound of that!” A pause, unnecessarily dramatic. Nobody breaks the silence, not even Volo. 
The Prince looks around with some satisfaction and continues. “Very well, then. The winning team of the second PML will be granted the honour of using the sync stones ultimate.” He grins, sharply, red shades flashing once again. “Which will include me, of course. Hahahahaha!”
“You have a real gift for making quick decisions!” Volo says cheerfully. The tension breaks. Chuckles arise from the rest of the group, and Rei can only stare in disbelief. That — that has to be mockery, right? But everyone else seems to take it as light teasing, even the quick-tempered Prince himself. 
Against his better judgement, his gaze catches Volo’s. 
He doesn't know what he expects to see: amusement? Satisfaction? Triumph? And there's some of that, but it's a wry, knowing sort of look, like a joke shared only between the two of them. 
Already the others are starting to animatedly discuss between themselves. Bettie makes a teasing comment to Lear, who scoffs. Professor Bellis says something about checking in on the sync stone technology. Cynthia, Lance and Steven form their own little group again, speaking in low tones, and he can't quite follow their discussion. 
It seems like he's the only one who notices Volo quietly slipping away, and he's got half a mind to do the same. 
Would it be incredibly ill-advised to follow him? Probably. But he still has questions. And it’s possible that Volo will let his guard down when they're alone. 
(Even to him, that seems incredibly optimistic. But there’s things between them that he himself would rather only unearth in private. Maybe Volo feels the same way. And even if not, perhaps he'll gloat, or tease playfully, and let on something of use hidden in the thorned barbs.)
It's not like he has much left to contribute here. Tournaments and competitions and organised displays are foreign to him. The Neo Champion Stadium had felt so different from the kind of battles he’s used to… which, in part, could be why he lost. 
He needs to train. If everything rests on the result of this tournament, he has to be ready. 
The group seems to be naturally dispersing, at least — Professor Bellis just excused herself — so he won't be missed. With some quick words, he, too, turns to leave. They can handle this part, and Rei will do his. 
Prince Lear had mentioned a winning team, and Pasio battles are generally three on three, from what he's seen. Who could he ask? There's Akari, of course. And the clan leaders, but it would feel strange to team up with only one and not the other. A little bit too reminiscent of another time. 
His steps carry him nearly to the edge of the arena.
Besides, he's getting ahead of himself. He still has to… well, he should explain everything to them. About Volo.
Even all these months later, it still aches. He had buried it all, hoping to let it rot away, to be free of that thorny mass of contradictory feelings that arose every time he dwelled on it. 
But the longer he waits, the more impossible it seems to explain — to explain not only the events of that fateful day, but also his own, confusing silence on the matter. Though he’s tried to plough the field, turn it all over and start anew, it still lies just beyond the surface, and a single misstep is all it takes to snarl him all over again. Why is it that even the thought of confiding in Akari, his closest friend, makes something constrict in his chest, choking out the words?
(Akari is unquestionably the one person he's closest to. But there was a time when that singular title wasn't so clear cut.)
There’s a sort of tunnel that leads out of the stadium, a long darkened archway that passes under the audience stands. He's about halfway through when he hears footsteps from behind, swift and purposeful strides. 
His breath catches, for a moment. But Volo left first, and the arena had been flat and wide, with no corners to lurk in. Besides, it's too loud. Clearly telegraphed.
Cynthia, maybe? 
He turns. The face that greets Rei is slightly less familiar. “Lance,” he acknowledges the Champion. 
“Rei,” Lance greets in turn, stopping a few paces away. Arms crossed, silhouetted against the light of the arena and framed by the tunnel’s dark, arching walls, his tall figure is — intimidating. 
He can’t help but wonder whether that's deliberate. 
“You left before I could ask,” Lance says, and there's a pause. “As someone who has prior experience with Arceus, what do you think of all this?”
A fair enough question. But the way it's said… sounds a little too carefully worded. Casual, but purposefully so.
What sort of answer does Lance expect? 
“It sounds reasonable enough,” he decides to say. As much as he hates to lend credence to Volo’s proposal, he can't think of anything better. It somehow seems to suit their needs perfectly, which he's sure is no accident. “Back in Hisui, I was told to seek out all Pokemon, so I helped with the Pokedex. In the same way, I guess this could help fulfil Arceus' new request.”
Lance nods along, but his brows furrow. “You sounded more sceptical, earlier,” he points out. 
Ah. Not really his intent, but… “That was about the more…” he casts about for the right word, “speculative part of it. I don't know if it would really call Arceus down, or anything like that.” Though honestly, he doesn't know that it won't.
“What do you think will happen, then?” Lance asks, with clear curiosity, and, well. He doesn't really have a good answer to that. 
“... I don't know,” he admits. “I never actually completed the Pokedex, so I'm not sure what happens after Arceus’ request is fulfilled.” He had been close, but there had still been so many minor tasks that needed finishing, things to busy himself with, to arrange and get in order before he had to face Giratina again. 
He hadn't been ready, yet. Maybe Arceus had grown impatient, and brought him here to confront his problems directly. Maybe it cared. Maybe it didn't. 
(Seeing Giratina with Cynthia had felt a little like he was the punchline of some divine comedy.)
Lance purses his lips and looks off into the distance, out of the stadium, past Rei. He wishes he could read the man’s expressions better; as it is, the set of his brows calls to mind Kamado, and everything else tangled up with it. 
Finally, Lance’s gaze turns directly to Rei once again, and he speaks. “That Volo… you two know each other.” 
It’s not a question, but even then, the expression of unguarded surprise he can’t hold back might be answer enough.
Lance has one hand on his hip, the other, at rest, is framed by the drape of his cape. He looks down at Rei as he states plainly, “His clothes aren’t of modern make, so the logical assumption would be that he’s from Hisui. Cynthia confirmed my suspicion. And, historically, Hisuian communities were few and quite tightly knit. It’s more likely than not.” 
He tries to keep his expression carefully neutral, as logic digs deeper, dangerously close to things unexplainable. And the earth is already recently disturbed, soft, friable. He can’t offer much resistance. “I've seen him around,” he concedes.
“But why did neither of you acknowledge the other?” Lance looks confused; frustrated, even. “Even a passing acquaintance would be notable, with both of you being here in the future.”
And here — this is familiar. The accusations. The questions he can’t answer. But it’s different; it’s not that he doesn’t know the answers. He just can’t seem to put them in an order that would make sense, to anyone else.
(Does he really understand, himself?)
But eyes are on him, and he needs to explain, in whatever unsatisfactory way he can. “Volo and I… it's complicated,” he laughs weakly, tugging at his scarf. “He genuinely does love history and mythology, you know. I guess I wouldn't be that surprised if he was right about Arceus.” All those times they’d pored over ruins together, Volo excitedly babbling on about whatever legend this one related to — there had to have been the seed of something real, something genuine, in that. 
It’s not really an answer. Lance can obviously tell, because he crosses his arms. 
“Is he bad news?” he asks bluntly. 
There’s no twisting his way out of this one.
Some of the panic he’s feeling must bubble up onto his face, because Lance’s expression softens, just a bit. The man sighs. “Look, Rei, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but us Champions need to have all the relevant information. This tournament, the stones,” he gestures around them, “affect everyone here on Pasio. So I’m sorry about involving myself in your business, but it's necessary. Should we be keeping an eye on Volo?” 
It’s obvious what the correct answer is. And every second he delays responding makes him seem all the more untrustworthy. He questions, a little hysterically, why this of all things is what he stubbornly roots himself for, risking this place he’s made for himself in another unfamiliar land. 
But his jaw works, and all that slips out of his throat, past the thorny tangle, is a “Maybe.” The most ground he can concede. “Volo’s… passionate about Arceus.” Which is perhaps the biggest understatement of both this century and the last. 
There's an expectant pause. He almost leaves it at that, but it seems it's too unfinished a sentiment for Lance. “He wants to be seen by it.”
“The same way you are?” Lance says sharply. Arceus, he picked up on that fast. Rei hopes he leaves it at that. A rivalry fallen apart, twisted into bitterness and jealousy, nothing more.
Nothing world-ending. 
It’s not like he doesn’t trust Cynthia, and by extension the other Champions. It’s just… he can deal with it himself. It’s what he was probably brought here to do, anyway. The thought of someone else turning him over, and finding him lacking — fighting his battles for him — makes him uneasy. 
“Yeah, something like that,” he answers, with a painful swallow. 
Besides, he hopes he can resolve this peacefully. He’d beaten Volo before, even after he’d flipped the rules of battle on their head. And this time Volo can’t upend the script; one good thing about tournaments, he supposes, is that the rules are rigorously upheld. A different sort of battleground.
He wants to laugh at that. Suppositions and wildly optimistic thoughts are his only foundation, and yet it’s enough for him to reject all possibility of outside help.
Then again, if he can’t even bring himself to tell Akari, what chance does he have of breaking that self-imposed silence, here, on less familiar ground?
Lance hums, assessing this. He uncrosses his arms. “If that friend of yours does anything drastic, tell us, alright?” he says. It’s said warmly, but there's something serious to it. An undertone. “Our job is to help out wherever we can, so don’t hesitate to reach out.”
Rei tries for a smile. “Understood.”  
Lance nods, and looks Rei up and down, though it's only a subtle flicker of his eyes. His gaze lingers on the scarf at Rei’s neck, which Rei realises he’s been fidgeting with unconsciously. He lets go with faint embarrassment, feeling caught out. 
The other man sighs. “You can go, you know?” There’s resignation in his voice. Maybe even something apologetic. In that moment, he seems more like Kamado than ever.
Rei doesn’t want to turn his back to him, but he wants to be here even less. So he nods, stiffly, and turns himself around, continuing the dark walk through the tunnel and out the stadium at a steady pace.
He doesn’t run.  
(But his hand hovers by his satchel, where Decidueye's Pokeball rests.)
It’s only when he’s walked for a good while, out into the harsh sunlight, through the town outskirts and to a more forested spot, that the tension drains from him. He sits at the base of a large tree, feeling a little lightheaded.
That was… an interrogation, to put it bluntly. And he can’t really fault Lance for it. To anyone, he's sure, his actions are confusing at best.
Unfortunately, he’s found that he’s less than clear headed when it comes to Volo. He turns over Lance’s final words. That friend of yours. It’s not surprising Lance phrased it that way; everything Rei had said had been carefully woven to lead him to that conclusion.
Except it hadn’t been misdirection, not fully. He does still think of Volo as his friend, despite everything.
He slumps backwards, against the trunk of the tree, feeling the rough bark dig against the base of his skull. 
What is he supposed to do with that?
Apparently, one of the worst days of his life isn’t enough to uproot over a year of growing camaraderie and budding friendship. Too many memories knot together, a stubborn tangle impossible to pick apart. He’s tried not to think about them too hard, but they tighten their hold once again, from where they lay dormant and buried.
Many of them have been forcibly recontextualised. He’s second guessed every helpful gift, every directly admiring word, every coincidental and fortunate appearance, as something deliberate and cultivated. But some of it, it seems, doesn't fit so neatly with that singular goal.
One day, they’d watched Togepi use Metronome for an hour, ostensibly for Rei’s surveying purposes. Important documentation of a seemingly random phenomenon, and all that. In actuality, they laughed the entire time, with no useful or coherent records to speak of, as the results became all the more improbable. 
They’d camped together, those last months, as the search for the Plates got wilder and more exciting. He knows Volo’s favoured way to build a camp-fire, and how he wakes up unreasonably early in the morning, and that he prefers sweet foods over savoury, unlike Rei himself. A hundred mundane familiarities shared, taking root in fallow ground.
Once, Volo had been his only friend in the entire world.
Is it surprising, then, that he can’t lay this friendship to rest so easily?
He wonders what it means, that the hand offered to him at his lowest point was the same one that always meant to drag him back down. And what it means that he still wants to reach for it.
Had any real feelings been sowed there, on Volo’s part? Or was the entire thing a carefully constructed weaving, an intricate field of grass knots laid around Rei, ready to catch him in their snare? 
He can’t quite strangle the hope that something of their friendship still exists, even if neglected and overgrown. And that’s the part that scares him.
He has Akari, and Adaman, and Irida. He has Professor Laventon and the Captain, though they’re far away. Then there’s the Wardens, more friendly faces: Mai, Sabi, Ingo, and all the others; there's Zisu and Pesselle and Beauregard and everyone else in Jubilife. New friends here on Pasio, too. 
He pulls out Decidueye’s Pokeball from his satchel, and rolls it around in his right hand. He has his beloved Starter.
He has friends. He has bonds.
Why can’t that be enough?
The Pokeball he’s holding isn't the original. He'd had to break that well-loved possession in two, and recapture Decidueye in this modern device. It's a distant echo of its predecessor, wooden grooves and clunky iron replaced by smooth metal and near imperceptible seams. The weight of it is all wrong. 
But despite that, it's still his partner, and that's what matters.
(The two broken halves sit in his satchel, too, carried on his person at all times. It's yet another thing he can't bring himself to let go of.)
He sighs, tracing formless shapes in the dirt. His hand finds one of the sparse clumps of grass that grow here, directly under this wide and mighty tree. Deprived of proper sun, it’s a miracle that there’s any at all. 
It seems more and more likely that he’ll end up looking for Volo on his own. To get answers: not only about the stones, and the tournament, and Volo’s intentions with Arceus, but also for his own ends. 
Maybe there’s still something there. A single glimpse of life in this scorched earth between them.
He doesn’t know what he’ll do then.
Where he sits, what little grass there is has grown long and ragged, as their leaves stretch and reach for the sun. He sets Decidueye’s ball down and plucks two long blades. With a few simple loops and twists, they’re deftly woven together into a knot. He considers it, looping it around his fingers; tightens it, pulling on both ends, until he can feel the entire construct threaten to snap from the force. He stops. 
The thing is, no matter if it was never meant to be real, deliberately sowed, intended ultimately for harvest — it’s all the same, to Rei. He wants to keep it alive. He’s hopeful. Naive. Selfish.
For a single, impossible moment, he wonders whether this is what Arceus meant by bonds all along. 
The knot goes in his satchel, where it will turn dry and brittle with time. But kept safe, unbroken, regardless. Maybe his future self will laugh at his sentimentality. Maybe, he won't remember why it’s there. 
Wouldn't that be for the best?
He tucks Decidueye’s ball away, with care, then hauls himself up, both hands braced against the dusty ground. There’s dirt under his fingernails. From under the tree’s darkened canopy, he squints into the afternoon sunlight.
There’s a lot that needs to be done. He needs to train for this tournament, for one. Learn more about modern battling. Pull together a team. With that, ask Akari, and perhaps Adaman or Irida. Confront Volo, somewhere in all of this. 
After that? Only Arceus knows.
One step at a time. 
He finds his footing, around gnarled roots. The grass crunches underfoot. And he steps into the light.
(So maybe I was just snared by the grass knots you laid in my path. But if I wove my own, would you fall for it too?)
33 notes · View notes
singsweetmelodies · 7 months
Note
watching the alpines qualify dead last... my immediate thought was "oh it's going to be sympathy kisses+ for Pierre all season long in the your lips, my lips (apocalypse) universe" 💀
oh my gosh, HI 🤭😍 well this ask made me grin far too fondly down at my phone screen... it just means SO much that people are still thinking of this fic universe even though it hasn't been updated in forever. 🥺 i am really SO touched!
and i also agree COMPLETELY! sympathy kisses all night long, for sure... perhaps even a sympathy blowjob or two... or even (since charles has once again reminded us that he's not sensitive to bottoming) a sympathy fuck 😏 but whatever the case might be, you can bet your ass that they'll definitely be in each other's beds in the 2023 kisses fic 'verse <3333 😘
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aarafox · 1 year
Text
One Last Night
Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Pairing: Link/Zelda
Rating: Explicit
Words: 7,737
Chapters: 1/1
Summary: The evening before their doomed journey to Mt. Lanayru, Zelda summons Link to her room.
Notes: Happy Tears of the Kingdom release day!!! I posted this on Ao3 yesterday so I’m sharing the link here as well. Check it out if you’re interested! Excerpt below ❤️
~
It was 11:00 PM, and Zelda was wide awake. She lay on top of her red velvet blanket, hands folded on her stomach, staring at the roof of her canopy bed unable to close her eyes. That pressing feeling that something terrible was about to happen just wouldn’t leave her, and thus her body refused to sign to her brain that it was safe enough to fall asleep.
Tomorrow was her last chance… If she failed to awaken her sealing power in the ancient Spring of Wisdom, what options did she have left? It felt like there was something vital missing, something she should’ve seen already… She’d already prayed at the Spring of Courage and Spring of Power, but since nothing happened there, why would the third one be any different?
She sighed and sat up straight, rubbing her forehead. Everything was quiet around her; the other castle residents had all gone to sleep as well. Though, for some reason, she suspected that a certain appointed knight was still out and about, practicing his combat skills for whatever might lay ahead.
Link… The thought of him made her sigh. Not with a particularly positive or negative emotion—he just made her sigh. They’d definitely gotten closer over the past few weeks, with Zelda carefully confiding in him and prompting him to open up to her in return. She’d started to feel much more comfortable around him, and knew from his behavior that that was mutual. He was actually really caring and considerate, with the way he ignored his own feelings for the sake of her safety and that of the kingdom. Though she’d love to know him on an even deeper level; what he would be like if he wasn’t carrying the duties currently pressing down on him, if he hadn’t been the one chosen by the sword that seals the darkness, if he could live in freedom, which she desired to do more than anything. Perhaps they could’ve been friends, or…
She quickly shook her head, incredulous that her mind had had the audacity to swerve in that particular direction again. If there was one thing she refused to think about, it was about Link and her, tied in romance.
Of-of course it wasn’t that she disliked him! If anything, she liked him a great deal! But even mentally exploring this possibility made her feel like a hole was being carved in the bottom of her heart. Why that was, she didn’t know… Perhaps because being involved with Link that way felt like something she’d only be allowed to do in a different lifetime, in a world where she wasn’t the princess doomed to fail the kingdom, and he wasn’t her knight obligated to silence his own feelings for the sake of the mission.
Oh, to live with him in a quiet town and not care about all the horrible things that were likely to happen in the following month… Wouldn’t that just be the greatest thing?
She groaned softly and closed her eyes. Now she’d allowed her brain to wander to impossibilities after all… All Link-related. Perhaps it was that discomforting feeling telling her that everything was about to go awry, or perhaps it was because she didn’t have anything else to really focus on tonight—but suddenly she wished that he was beside her. She bet his presence would soothe her soul and calm her down, which was funny considering that seeing him used to bring about the exact opposite feeling in the past.
But if her hunch was correct, and he was still out and about… Her eyes trailed to her bedroom door, which she knew was being guarded on the outside by a different knight. It was Link’s duty to stay with her during the day, but he was allowed to at least go to bed at a decent time. There would be no harm in trying…right?
~
Read it here!
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mrpenguinpants · 2 years
Text
Green Slumber
— "Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?" "Shh...You're too loud, Paimon." "Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?"
— Alhaitham
Ayato Ver: Pale Blue Slumber Traveller & Paimon lines are taken from the official Genshin Twitter post. [Masterlist]
Congrats Alhaitham, your birthday postpones the fic where I tear you apart for scamming me. I usually don't write birthday fics but pretty art. Can you tell I'm not used to writing second pov and rushed again :)) I don't know how to end fics.
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"Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?"
Lumine looks in the direction of Paimon's voice, her floating companion peeking through a room with a giddy face. No doubt hatching some sort of plan to get back at the scribe for his words during their quest to rescue Lesser Lord Kusanali. On one hand, she should probably scold Paimon for immediately jumping to payback since the reason both of them are here is to wish the man a happy birthday before departing to the next region. But on the other hand...
“Shh…You’re too loud Paimon,” Lumine whispers as she tip-toes towards the door and gently pushes it open further. She's pointedly ignoring the face Paimon is throwing her for acting just as bad as she is. If anyone asks, she'll make an excuse that she was just being a polite guest and if Alhaitham was sleeping, she would excuse herself quietly. In no way is it her curiosity to see the ever-serious Alhaitham in any mode that's defenseless and relaxed. So with Paimon’s head hovering above hers, they both poke their heads into the room. Alhaitham doesn’t look any different from the last time they met, although asleep, he looks far less intimidating. He’s leaned back in the wooden chair, arm propped up to hold his lolling head in place. Calculating amber and teal eyes are closed as his chest falls up and down slowly with each breath while the gentle sun paints him in warm yellows and soothing whites. If Lumine had never met Alhaitham before, she would have thought he may have been the Dendro archon with how serene the scene itself is. Something that almost makes her want to reach out and touch him just to check if he’s real or not.
"Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?" Paimon’s voice tapers off at the end, eyes alight with confusion. Lumine tears her eyes away from Alhaitham to look at where Paimon is pointing. Seated on the desk right in front of Alhaitham’s sleeping figure, a stranger hums softly with their ankles locked as they swing their legs ideally in the air. In their hands appears to be the beige book Alhaitham usually carries around, the one about physics and motion if she remembers correctly. Now that she’s looking - she can't believe she missed an entire person because she got distracted by the image of a sleeping Alhaitham - the stranger looks far more comfortable in the room than she is. Maybe they're another roommate? Although Alhaitham doesn't seem like the type to have an extensive list of friends and she's positive she's met most if not all of the people Alhaitham could call close enough to have them in his home. She shares a look with Paimon who returns it with a shrug of the shoulders. Neither one of them has ever seen this mysterious person before.
"Haitham, this section here about..." the stranger's voice brings blue and yellow eyes back to the room. Lumine watches intrigued as the stranger finally looks up from the book to see Alhaitham fast asleep. A soft sigh escapes their lips as they close the book, shoulders dropping into something more relaxed, and they just sit and look at the man. They have the same look in their eye but instead, their hand slowly reaches out until their fingertips meet the tips of soft silver hair. Pushing strands away from his face before waltzing down to caress his cheek. It's an intimate touch and Lumine isn't sure whether she should be here interrupting the moment. The stranger surely seems to be having fun as they return to playing with silver strands. Through it all, Alhaitham remains asleep yet, his body seems to lean into the touch naturally. As if these practiced movements have happened before.
Oh. Oh, she understands now.
“Hey, Paimon…” Lumine starts as she slowly picks herself off the floor as quietly as possible lest she disturbs the peace. "We should leave."
"Huh? But why? We've never seen this person before right? What if they're one of those bad guys that are after Alhaitham because he's the acting grand sage!" Paimon adamantly nods, small hands clutched into little fists. It would be cute if it weren't for the fact that Paimon has no sense of volume. Before Lumine can reach out and press her palm against Paimon's mouth to stop her from shouting again, a light chuckle rings out. They both freeze in place, flicking their heads back inside the room.
"You know...if you talk any louder you will actually wake him up," the stranger drops their hand as they turn to face the duo. There's mirth dancing in their eyes and Lumine has enough decency to look embarrassed at getting caught red-handed. Paimon on the other hand has no such reservations.
"Ah, sorry! We didn't mean to! Wait-Hey! Don't turn this on Paimon. Who are you and what are you doing in Alhaitham's house?!" Paimon stomps her feet in the air, crossing her arms as she pouts at the stranger. Her frown further increased by the stranger laughing harder.
"I basically live here. There's no need to be so on edge. I doubt Haitham could sleep so easily if a stranger was in his home," they say, gesturing to the still peacefully unaware scribe who hasn't moved a muscle since they arrived.
"Ohh, so you're like that blond guy from before! Ka-Ka something? But wait, why were you touc-"
"Ahem, sorry for barging in. We just wanted to say Happy Birthday to Alhaitham. We'll visit again some other time when he's awake," Lumine cuts Paimon off, successfully managing to slap her hand against Paimon's mouth. She can feel the back of her ears turning red as she bows and practically sprints away and out of the house. She'll just write a note to the scribe instead.
+
You blink a few times before chuckling again. Wow, that girl sure can run fast. You've heard stories about the Traveller and this "Paimon" character, patiently waiting for your turn to stumble into their journey. Although you wish you had met them with better first impressions, they seem like a lively bunch. Your eyes slide over back onto the sleeping figure in front of you, and there's a slight nudge of his lips. The smallest of smiles threaten to burst before it placates into something more neutral. A small detail that hasn't escaped you.
"I know you're awake Alhaitham," you state blankly, your gentle hands reaching back up before suddenly turning harsh and tugging at his cheek. Pulling the skin so he has a lopsided smile. True to your words, teal and amber eyes open without an ounce of shame. "Weren't those your friends? Don't be rude and ignore them when they came all this way to say happy birthday."
He offers a half-hearted shrug before the hand supporting his head moves to take your fingers still tugging at his cheek. Intertwining them together until his face is free. His smile is still small but his eyes shine with fondness that you're forced to look away. Sometimes you forget just how pretty Alhaitham can be.
"Weren't you the one that said I should indulge on my special day? Is it so wrong that I want to spend it with you and you alone?" He adds to his point by brushing his lips against your fingertips before pressing a kiss to your palm. There's a small smile as he extends his other hand out, eyes taking in how pink your ears become. "So let's indulge."
“For such a pretty face, you sure are…” you trail off but you take his hand and let him move you onto his lap. It's unfair how fast he can turn the tables on you and how easily you let him do so. It was fun being able to poke and prod the man to your heart's content since he had to hold the disguise of being asleep, even if you do feel a bit bad that the Traveller had to postpone their greeting, but now it's his hands that roam over your body. Slipping under your - his - shirt and rubbing small circles into your hip before growing bored and moving onto another patch of untouched skin until there's nothing left to take. Lip hungry as he kisses away your words because every breath that isn't mixed with his is worthless. Perhaps it's a blessing that you need to take a proper breath because you're sure that Alhaitham would keep taking until there's nothing left. Disregarding how tightly your hands cling to him and refuse to let him stray too far away.
"Greedy."
"Pot meet kettle."
---
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rimunagenius · 4 months
Text
I Could Die For you
ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x reader
ʚ word count: 1.2k
ʚ warnings: RPF!! , fluff, fluff, literal fluff, so much love that it’s sickening
ʚ rimunagenius speaks: to make up for that last post about emily because what the flip!! also the first Kate fic i’ve released that hasn’t been in a series!! yay! also ofc i had to write Kate to one of my favorite love songs!!💕 if you guys do not listen to this song and love it, i’m quitting writing and reporting everyone’s blog…
| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |
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Something inside the cards I know is right
Don't wanna live somebody else's life
Kate was so happy. She knew her life was exactly where she wanted it to be. Cold mornings like this, wrapped in the bed sheets, both your bodies wrapped together to create the most perfect fit to a puzzle.
With your head resting on her body, your nose nuzzling perfectly into her neck, your soft snores and exhales ticking her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.
The way your hand rested on her chest, and the way Kate's hand rested on your waist from the way she was holding you into her body. She knew she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Lying here, wide awake admiring you and thanking god or whoever was out there, that she was able to do this, and do it with you.
This is what I want to be
And this is what I give to you because I get it free
"Oh my god, Kate." You stood in shock in your guys' kitchen. You had a rough day at work, letting Kate know that while you sat in your office, counting down the minutes until you could come home. So when you walked through the door and wandered into the living room where Kate was watching the NBA finals, she got up to greet you and took you to the kitchen, giving you the flowers and chocolate she picked up on her way home from practice today. 
You had a new adjustments to make since leaving Iowa. Picking up your life and moving to Las Vegas with Kate when she found out she made the roster officially, after living in a hotel room during training camp. You loved her so much, and you had so much faith in the person she was and the skills she had, you knew moving across states wasn't going to be a regret you had years down the line. 
Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation radiating from the blonde who stood a few feet away. "Aw, don't cry. Why are you crying, baby?" Kate walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck so you buried your face into her chest. 
"Because. You do this for me just for having a bad day. Your days are full of stress with basketball, still proving yourself, and tired from your work. I don't deserve you, Kate." You were a mess. You missed a lot of things. You missed your old friends, how close your guys' family used to be, and you missed Kate while she was gone. You missed a lot of things—you've longed for those things, but you loved your life here with Kate. You two away from what you knew and grew accustomed to, to independently make what you want and need. 
You loved it but you couldn't help but long for what used to be your life sometimes. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world and more because you packed your life up just because you believed in me. This is the very least I could do for you. I will continue to show you how important you are to me and who I am. You make me better so I'm going to show you every day til I can't anymore. I love you. You work hard and you deserve to be appreciated and seen." 
That made the tears fall harder, but you looked up at Kate, and couldn't believe this was your girl. The woman you got to spend and do life with. You kissed her lips chastely, hugging her close again. You two stood there, looking at the pretty flowers and sharing some of your chocolate. 
She smiles while I do my time
It was so early in the morning. Kate waking you up for a travel day for the Aces. It was an away game to Los Angeles and you wanted to make this game so you took the days off. 
You hated getting up early, and the stress that came with traveling was truly not a great time. Kate knew it, but she loved that you were willing to do it for her.  You didn't like most things, but the look on your girlfriend's face when you watched her do the thing she loves most, play the game that gave her many of the amazing opportunities she's had, it was all worth it. 
Kate walked onto to the court, looking at you behind the Aces bench, and smiled. You already smiling right back at her. She knew that no matter how early she woke you up, or how many times she did it, you'd be there, lift her up, and cheer her on. You knew this was where you wanted to be. 
I could die for you
It was the day after Kate had won the WNBA Finals, and you two had been lying in bed since last night. You couldn't believe that she had come so far from the little girl who idolized the Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball team, to a woman who's grown into the most tremendously courageous and strong woman who won her first WNBA Championship. It was so surreal. 
"You know I love you so much, right?" Kate whispered. One arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to her body, while her other hand held your thigh that lay across her hip. 
"I would hope so." You giggled softly, looking up at the blonde above you, your hand went from her chest to the side of her face, resting against her cheek. You looked into her eyes, the blue of them convincing you more by the second that they were better looking than the sky outside. 
"No, I'm serious. You are the love of my life. I would be so lost without you. I don't think I could live without you—let alone do what I've done this past year without you." Her voice wavered, you could tell her emotions still running high after the night she had last night. 
"Kate, my love." You chuckled nervously, the confession making you giddy, but also overwhelmingly more in love with Kate, if that was even possible. It brought tears to your eyes.
"You make me so happy. Just being right here, with you, is more important to me than winning another ring." 
"Oh my god Kate, stop it. You're going to make me cry. I'm so in love with you." You wiped a small tear that fell down your cheek. Kate smiled down at you, willing herself to not close her eyes and just die happy right here with you. 
"I'm so in love with you, I could die." Kate giggled softly, wiping her eyes before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss. You smiled so hard you couldn't even kiss properly. A fit of giggles came from the both of you. 
"Ah! Kate, stop it! Oh my god, Kate!" You screamed and giggled as she left kisses and tickles everywhere she could reach, especially in your most ticklish spots. You two couldn't be anymore happier. Kate wouldn't want to be anywhere else unless you were there, under her arms or wrapped in them. 
Oh, this life I choose.
You two were just simply two girls in love and wouldn't have it any other way. 
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HII, saw your post on wanting asks, well here 🫶 I love talking so, and specifically on playboy yandere!! I'm a sucker for angst and yanderes falling into insanity honestly, so let me ramble a bit
- imagine if reader graduates highschool and gets an overseas scholarships!! They also convince their family to move together with them so Kameron can't hurt or use them to blackmail reader. So with only a break up text saying like "bye manwhore 😍😍", blocking and deleting all their social media, I wonder how long and how far would he take to get reader back again? Would he inherit his parent's riches, hire some private investigatiors to find reader and find the country they're living in, expand his business over to their country in order to gain power to trap his darling. And I wonder how deranged his reaction would be to reader's text and be like no way, they're joking right, and runs to their house and whatever usual spots they're at normally, and just break down into insanity. would he try to use substitutes for reader to maintain his sanity or go fully devoid of emotions and start working hard to gain power and influence to find reader again!! I'm also curious how he would process his darling leaving him, would he become delusional first, saying they got kidnapped or something, or some ex or fling of his hurt reader, and then proceed to anger, depression, grief and then finally accept the reality!!
Ok that's a lot of rambling 😭😭 hope it's okay. I rlly enjoyed that fic, was rent FREE in my mind for a whole day
you know luci, you just gave me an idea. So have a part TWO of THIS DUMBASS HOE 🤝
Yandere playboy x reader
Tw: mentions of murder, kameron being delulu, yandere and obsessive behavior
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💋kameron was having another breakdown. Sobbing pathetically on the floor of your old bedroom. Just how did you run away? And on such short notice too!? Didn't his love mean anything to you!? WHY DID YOU ABANDON HIM?
💋a million thoughts swirled through his head, until he finally got one that just... stuck. He had to get you back. No matter how long it takes. Getting up and dusting himself off, he kicked the front door open and quickly left the empty house
💋it was a shame really. The once sane and popular boy was struggling to keep his image. So he got help. Not professional as in therapists and medication. Just hiring other students to cover for him Incase he slipped up. all while snooping through the head teachers computer to see if they had any notes on where you might have gone. He almost got caught a few times
"shit that was close.. i can't believe these idiots leave their passwords just anywhere"
💋he knew he shouldn't be back at the school, especially since he graduated but he needs all the information he can get. Eventually moving onto private investigators and online stalking through multiple other accounts. He'd try anything just to see what his darling was doing without him. Were you enjoying making him suffer? You're so cruel..
💋hiring other people to befriend you and lower your guard, gathering any Information they can
💋 kameron who spent a while convincing his parents to let him take hold of the company. He had a degree, a bright mind, responsibility. He's perfect for the job! Oh if only they knew where his 60% was going.. funding multiple businesses across the world in exchange for keeping a careful eye. Making him quite the celebrity
💋look darling! He's on the news-! ...oh right you're not here.. one evening, while working in his office, a new secretary comes in to introduce themselves. They look just like you! He could only stare in shock.
"my love..? Is that you!?"
"..who?"
💋turns out it was just a doppelganger. But with enough time he'd delude himself into thinking it was you. Courting them with the same flowers, chocolates and jewelry he'd given you. It worked like a charm! Now you were back In their arms again. They felt whole..
💋he married your lookalike a year later, the poor fool being too naive and oblivious to think. He was happy for awhile.. or until one of his P.I's came in to show him they found you. His reality started to break.
💋no.. how could he do this to you. Replacing you with some cheap street whore. That night, when they went to bed, he gave them a cup of water and smiled sweetly. Watching as their face went red and they started to cough for air after gulping it down. Clawing at the sheets and staring at him with wide fearful eyes. Begging him to help them
"...slut."
💋 burrying the body in his backyard, he paid people with underground connections to cover for him while he was away. Claiming they suddenly vanished, having run away with a small fortune. How idiotic are people, to actually believe him..
💋kameron disguised himself and went straight for the country you decided to flee too. 5 years apart from you.. he had no idea how he managed to live so long without his beloved, but it was all worth it. Because now you'll be back where you belong. In his arms.
💋you were busy working at your job, running a small business was no joke but atleast the people in the area were friendly. So you didn't notice the suited figure Infront of your cash register
"thank you, please come again-"
💋you froze, looking up at the terrifyingly familiar face. He stared back at you with only glee and love
"hello my darling~ you've been on a naughty streak for a while Haven't you? That's okay, I'll just set you straight when we go back home."
💋big burly men all blocked you from escaping by guarding the doors. Dragging all the other customers out so you both could have your moment. Now you could never leaver leave him. Ever.
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cosmicflw3rr · 6 months
Text
cash in.
dominik mysterio x fem! reader
summary: you cash in at wrestlemania.
A/N: this is inspired by damian’s cash in, just something to put out while I work on my other things! btw pls request stuff I need to unleash my creativity 😈😈
btw in this short fic, for the inst post at the end im using pics from liv’s cash in, and a pic of bianca and montez but you can imagine yourself however you want it’s just pics i chose for the post :)
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your nerves were jumbled up as you watched bayley and iyo sky fight for the title. their feud had been going on for a while now and was finally going to be resolved at the grandest stage of them all.
what they didn’t know was that tonight you’d finally cash in the money in the bank contract you'd been clutching for months. you had never found the perfect moment to make your move. yet, something in the air felt different, electric. today was the day you'd cash it in; you could just feel it.
you had to look away from the screen at the amount of close calls the match had, you moved away from the monitor sitting down on the couch in the little spot the tv crew had for the judgement day. damian, finn, jd and rhea also watched the match intently.
you held your head with your hands, sighing. your leg bouncing up and down anxiously. dominik, your boyfriend sat down next to you placing his hand on your knee to stop it from bouncing.
as soon as dom's hand touched your knee, you paused and locked eyes with him. "hermosa, talk to me," he urged, understanding the weight of the evening on your shoulders, yet not wanting you to be overwhelmed by stress.
leaning back, you let out a groan, the frustration clear in your voice. "what if it doesn’t work? what if I can't cash in the contract?" you shared your fears, the pressure mounting. "I might not get a chance like this ever again." the uncertainty of it all was eating at you.
you were convinced this was a once-in-a-lifetime shot, but dom saw things differently. he knew just how incredible you were in the ring, how you owned every match you fought and put your heart into everything you did. so to hear you think you weren’t ever going to get an opportunity like that again hurt, because he knew you would.
“listen amor.” when you wouldn't meet his gaze, he gently tilted your chin up, eyes meeting yours, and saw the worry glistening there. with a soft, reassuring smile, he whispered, "amor, don't worry. you've got this. you're one of the best wrestlers out there, and no matter what happens, there will be more chances. believe in yourself like I believe in you." his words were the comfort you didn't know you needed.
you eyes met dom’s as you nodded, understanding flickering between you. suddenly, the bell echoed, one, two, three times. your head whipped around to the screen, and there it was—bayley's victory. the members from your faction turned to you, their faces a mix of surprise and disbelief.
aithout a second thought, you grabbed your briefcase and bolted towards the gorilla, heart racing. "I'm cashing in! I'm cashing in!" you shouted at the top of your lungs. the production crew exchanged quick glances, barely able to process your words as you grabbed a referee by his shirt and charged onto the stage, adrenaline fueling your every step.
running down the ramp as your theme blared through the arena, the crowd erupted in cheers, instantly recognizing the moment unfolding. You reached the ring sliding into it with the referee on your heels. you turned thrusting the briefcase into his hands, “I’m cashing in!” you yelled.
he looked down at the briefcase his voice tinged with uncertainty, "are you sure?"
without hesitation, you shouted back, "yes, I'm cashing in, do it!" your hand came down hard on the briefcase, affirming your decision. the buzz from the crowd surged through you, adrenaline coursing wildly through your veins.
bayley staggered to her feet, unsteady. you bounced on the balls of your feet, ready, and as the bell chimed for the third time, you quickly delivered your finisher, the ripcord flatliner.
she hit the mat, motionless. yet, the roar of the crowd told you to keep going. you quickly pulled her to the ring's center, seizing her legs and cinching in a figure four lock, the cheers growing impossibly louder.
the excitement from the crowd was electric and the adrenaline in your body was hard to contain.
with the figure four perfectly locked in, bayley was trapped, dead center of the ring with no hope of grabbing the ropes. you yelled, teeth gritted, tightening the hold. then, the moment came—bayley tapped out, the bell sounding three times.
your music blared out as you released her, you scooted back, your spine meeting the ropes, shock written on your face. your hands flew to cover your eyes, tears leaving paths down your cheeks as you sobbed, the crowd's roar drowning your thoughts, the reality of the moment not quite sinking in.
wiping your tears, you turned to the referee, who held the championship title towards you. grabbing it from, you sat there dazed, just gazing at the title, a fresh wave of tears blurring in your eyes as pride swelled within you.
you got to your feet, lifting your arm, and the cheers from the crowd grew even wilder. you let out a smile, wiping away those involuntary tears. just then, at the top of the ramp, you noticed the judgement day coming out, cheering you on.
without missing a beat, you slipped out of the ring and bolted up the ramp. reaching the top, you found dominik first, waiting for you. the two of you collided into a tight embrace, him lifting and twirling you off the ground.
when your feet touched solid ground, you stepped back, locking eyes with him briefly, then sharing a tender kiss. after the kiss, you both melted into another warm hug, your arms around his neck and his on your waist.
“I’m so proud of you baby. I told you everything would work out.” he whispered, stirring fresh tears in your eyes. you nodded against his shoulder.
"I love you so much," you choked out, voice trembling, tears streaming down. breaking from the embrace, he tenderly held your face, wiping away the tears, then kissed you once more.
a smile broke through as he stepped aside, revealing the judgement day, all hyped up. In an instant, they swept you and dom up in a massive group hug.
you all erupted in cheers, bouncing around with excitement as each one expressed their pride in you, bringing a beam to your face. the group hug ended, and everyone turned towards the ring.
in a swift move, dom and damian hoisted you onto their shoulders, your hands clutching the title as you raised it high, pyro blazing in the background.
with a joyful shout, you took in the cheering crowd. after soaking in the moment, they carefully lowered you back down. you lifted your hand in triumph one last time before Dom draped his arm over your shoulder.
backstage, away from the roaring crowd, the intimacy of the moment enveloped you and dom as the judgment day trailed behind. you wrapped your arms around dom once more, this hug deeper, more personal.
tears freely flowed as the weight of your victory hit you, and dom was there, a comforting presence, rubbing your back gently. "I am so, so proud of you, amor. you've earned this and so much more," he whispered, his words a soothing balm to your overwhelmed emotions.
pulling back from the embrace, you brushed away the lingering tears, offering him a tender kiss. "thank you, babe. for everything," you murmured with heartfelt gratitude.
"this was all you," he replied, his pride in you evident.
"maybe, but your support has been my rock, the thing that's kept me pushing forward," you said, your voice laced with appreciation. his smile then met yours, and he leaned in to seal your shared moment with another kiss.
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y/n: and your new…
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annwrites · 2 months
Text
you came back.
— pairing: harvey specter x exemployee!reader
— type: one-shot (for now. see author's note.)
— summary: after disappearing from new york & harvey's life for a year, he discovers that you've suddenly returned during a chance-meeting at a bookstore where you now work. desperate to right his past wrongs, he agrees to have dinner with you in your apartment. & then the truth reveals itself & his heart is shattered all over again.
— tw: mentions of rape.
— word count: 9,104
— a/n: i intend to eventually make posts exploring reader's relationship w/ harvey & her time in alaska. | my idea post for this fic
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"Excuse me, miss. Would you mind helping me? There's a biography I—"
You slowly turn.
you know that voice. Used to hear it every day.
You'd wondered once—when you could no longer recall the sound of it—if you would still recognize it if you ever ran into him again.
Even if you'd never intended to.
You should've known better.
He stares at you with wide eyes. Into your own, which he thought he'd never look into again. Would never see his reflection in those blooming irises again. Would never see himself as you do again.
And yet here you are, right in front of him, gazing up at him as if...as if you'd never even left.
"You came back," he whispers in disbelief.
You hold the novel you'd been ready to slide onto a high shelf tightly to your chest, your heart running away from you.
"Yes."
His hand rises from his side, hovering near your cheek. And then he cups it in his palm. "You're here."
You swallow nervously, unsure how to even respond. So you don't. "You were looking for a book?"
His brows furrow, hand dropping away. "That's it? You...you disappear for a goddamn year—more than—and that's all I get? No—no explanation, or—"
His voice is raised now, that vein near his temple throbbing in irritation.
"Please lower your voice. I'm at work."
He's left speechless then. He takes a step closer.
You lean your head back, looking up at him.
For how long?"
Your brows furrow. "What?"
"How long have you been back in New York?" He asks through gritted teeth.
You tuck a loose curl behind your ear. "About a month."
He stumbles back, laughing without humor, running his hand down his jaw as he nods. "A month. You've been in the city for a month and not once did you—" He shakes his head.
His eyes find their way back to you. "Do you have any idea the hell I went through after you just disappeared in the middle of the night? That next morning you don't show up to work, so I call. Your phone is disconnected. Email was defunct. After work I go to your apartment, only to find it empty, with not so much as a forwarding address left behind. I—" He stops, fuming, shoulders steadily rising and falling as he stares you down.
"I began to think...I actually wondered at one point if you were dead. No one had heard from you. You just dropped off the face of the goddamn Earth. Where the hell did you even go?"
"Alaska."
His jaw falls open slightly, his eyes searching your own, sure that you can't be serious.
"Alaska," he repeats back to you.
You nod gently.
"We have a fight, so you move across the country. What—did...did you seriously drive that entire way?"
It had nothing to do with the fight. It was due to a reason that was so much worse. You wish it had been due to that instead.
How many times had you blamed yourself? Told yourself that if you'd just never bothered asking him, after all those nights together, with him buried inside of you, 'what are we', then it never would've happened.
But you know now that it's no one's fault except one person's. But that individual is neither you nor him. Even if you'd believed so heavily at one time otherwise.
"Yes."
"Why the hell would you do something like that?"
"It gave me time to think."
He takes a step closer. "Why the hell are you being so short with me?"
You turn back around, finally putting the novel you'd been holding away, picking up another from your book cart, ignoring your shaking hands. "I have to get back to work now."
He stands there, continuing to stare at you.
How did you get here? The two of you? He used to...he used to know everything about you. Used to know every inch of you. Whether in the king-sized bed in his apartment, on a marble countertop, or his office desk—he did.
You still smell like warm cinnamon, though. That much has remained the same, at least.
Even if everything else is different now.
"You came back to work at a bookstore. Do they even have benefits?"
Why wouldn't you have came back to him instead?
"I have no interest in returning to office work and answering to lawyers again. I'm a different person now. I want different things."
"You mean you had no interest in returning to me."
You sigh, turning around, grabbing your cart and pushing past him. "I'm not interested in arguing, Harvey."
His heart jumps at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue.
Like when yours used to roll off of his between your soft thighs. Late at night. The city glittering outside those large glass windows as he held you close, tasting you while you cried out for him in pleasure.
He quickly grabs your elbow, turning you back to him. "I deserve an explanation."
You wrap your arms around yourself. "Do you truly need one?"
He looks at you incredulously. "How can you even ask that?"
You glance out the window, watching for a moment as people mill past, one entering the store—a small bell ringing up front to signal their arrival, welcoming them—and then drag your eyes back to the man in front of you.
"Tonight, then. Once everyone else has left the office."
"You can't tell me now?" He asks, arms flying out from his side in exasperation, hands then settling on his hips.
"You want an explanation, that's my stipulation for giving it."
His eyes flit between both of yours before he finally gives a small, terse nod. "Fine."
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Harvey leans back in his seat, hands clasped in his lap—his jacket and tie forgotten atop his desk—as he waits patiently for you to explain yourself. To finally answer the mystery that is your whereabouts for the last year.
You study him for a moment, wondering how to even begin.
Going over this potential conversation for hours in your head after seeing him at the bookstore had been no help, as it now turns out.
You look out the window, at the neighboring skyscrapers, lights slowly turning off as people finally head home for the evening to their loved ones.
And then you look back to Harvey. "I need you to understand that what happened to me isn't your fault anymore than it is mine. That I'm okay now. It took a long time for me to be, but I am."
He just looks at you with knitted brows, wondering where this is going as he rests a bent elbow atop an arm of the chair, finger resting over his lips, thumb gripping his chin, while he remains silent.
"The night we fought...after you—" You want desperately to word this in a non-blaming way. "After you went home, I did, too. It was late, and there were no taxis around. So I told myself just to walk until I spotted one."
You swallow thickly, looking down to your hands. Even now they still tremble slightly. You hate him for still having such a hold over you.
"He came out of nowhere. I didn't see him. He grabbed me, drug me into an alley. He had a knife. Told me what would happen if I screamed. So I stayed quiet."
Everything is so silent you could hear a pin drop.
"He raped me."
Harvey's chin trembles.
"Twice. I just...let him. I was terrified. All I could think the entire time that he was inside of me was...this is how I'm going to die. Everything I ever wanted—meant to do—it's lost to me now. I'll die in this alley with this man's...him leaking out of me. And I'll be the girl on the news who was raped and murdered next to a dumpster. That's how I'll be remembered. That will have been the summation of my life: what he did to me."
You pull nervously at your fingers. "After he was finished, he left me lying there. Once I finally got myself home I wasn't—I wasn't thinking clearly. I took a shower, I threw up, I didn't sleep. First thing in the morning, I called a moving company. Told them I wanted movers to come in, box up all my things, and that i was going to Alaska. I'd always dreamt of seeing it. So I went."
You look at him again, your stomach sinking when you see the tears shimmering in his eyes, the wobbling of his lips.
"Now you know."
He rises suddenly. "I'm going to be sick."
He rushes out the glass door of his office and you give him a moment before following after him into the men's restroom.
You find him leaning over a sink, splashing cold water onto his face as he cries.
"Harvey," you say softly.
He quickly picks up a handful of folded paper towels and wipes his face dry before looking at you.
"Sweetheart, I—" His face crumples. "I'm so fucking sorry. This is all my goddamn fault."
You had wanted so dearly to avoid this. You knew he would put all of the blame upon himself.
He comes toward you, taking you into his arms, holding you to his chest as he cups the back of your head, his body shaking as he sobs into your hair.
"I'm so sorry."
You slide your hands up his back, quietly shooshing him. "It's no one's but his. I don't blame you. It's okay."
"It's not okay. I should've driven you home that night. Instead, I left here angry. Told you to find your own way home. When all you did was—was ask me what we were."
He begins to cry harder.
You remain quiet.
Finally, he pulls away slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands resting against the small of your back. "You never told the police?"
"Like I said, I wasn't thinking clearly. I just...all i could think about was leaving. Going to Alaska. Nothing else mattered to me at that time but getting there."
He firmly presses his lips to your forehead, tears slipping from his eyes. "I want you to know I thought about you every day. That I missed you. That you were—you'd always been more to me than just sex. Losing you—this—is one of the greatest regrets of my life. One of my biggest mistakes. So many times I wished I had just told you how I felt. Had apologized for the shit I said that night instead of just leaving."
His eyes flutter closed. "Can you ever forgive me?"
He knows that even if you do, he never will. He deserves to live with this. All those panic attacks that'd overtaken him in your absence...he had deserved them and so much worse. He should've had a fucking heart attack instead. Maybe then he would've gotten his penance.
"There's nothing to forgive."
He knows he'll never agree.
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“Hi.”
Your eyes close for just a moment as you take a deep breath before opening them again and turning around.
Harvey gives you a soft smile.
“I’m on lunch right now,” he states with a shrug, stepping closer.
“Oh.”
He keeps his shaking hands in his pockets as he continues.
“I wanted—” he pauses.
There’s no not-obvious way to word this.
He starts again. “I imagine the answer is yes, but I’m asking anyway: do you have a car yet?”
You nod. “I do. I bought it in Alaska. It’s not a Rolls Royce, but it gets me around.”
You smile. “I’m happy with it.”
Wanting to purchase you one now would’ve still been too little too late, he thinks.
He finally jumps into the deep end. “I’d like to take over paying for your rent.”
Your eyes flit between his, your stomach sinking as you just then notice the dark circles beneath them. “You look exhausted.”
You reach up, cupping his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed at your gentle touch that he’s missed so much.
“Did you…you didn’t sleep last night, did you?”
His eyes slowly open. “Work. New client. It’s a big case.”
You know he’s lying, but don’t push it.
“Thank you for the offer, but I can pay my own rent, Harvey.”
“Utilities, then.”
You’re quiet for a moment. “You don’t need to do this. I told you that you didn’t need to blame yourself. That I didn’t. You don’t have any reason to feel guilty.”
He glances away for a moment, thinking, shaking his head slightly before he returns to looking at you. “You can tell yourself—tell me—all you want that it’s not my fault, but it is. All of it. All it would’ve taken was one car ride and this would’ve been avoided. But just like always, I was being selfish. Thinking of one person. And I cost you everything because of it.”
He steps closer to you, removing his trembling hand from his pocket, clasping it around your upper arm gently. “Let me take you to dinner, then. Something. Please. I’m begging you.”
I have to do something. I’m drowning and you’re my only source of air. I’m so sorry.
Please.
Your lips slowly turn upwards into a small smile. “How about I make you dinner instead?”
His brows furrow. “I should be the one doing that for you.”
You shake your head. “You owe me nothing. You want to do something for me? Then let me do this.”
You’d always been this way. It was one of the reasons losing you had hit him so incredibly hard. You didn’t use him. Not for money or fine things. You didn’t care that he lived in an expensive high-rise apartment. Didn’t lust after his fancy suits. Didn’t care about his proud title of being the best closer in the city.
You just wanted his attention and time. You wanted him—saw him. Or, at least, had.
Finally, he nods. “If that’s really what you want.”
“It is.”
You stick a few beaded bookmarks into their display case, then a pack of fruit-shaped erasers next to them and Harvey just watches you all the while.
Somehow being here suits you. Surrounded by books and trinkets, soft jazz music playing overhead as people mingle silently about the shelves.
Working for someone like him was never going to be where you belonged. You had a heart that was far too honest and good and pure for a law firm—whether you were only serving as an office assistant or not—and loving.
He misses when it had once loved him.
But he’d chosen to throw that all away. And for what? ‘Freedom’? Freedom from what? To do what?
Continue having meaningless one-night stands with shallow women he barely even saw the faces of? Not that he had wanted to. Because the second he did—his erection was lost, along with the fantasy. They weren’t the girl he desperately needed them to be. They couldn’t fill the massive, gaping hole in his chest that your absence had left behind.
So he’d stopped.
Ten months it had been since he’d last been inside a woman. Ten months since he’d so much as wanted to be.
But standing next to you now… Looking you over, your soft curled hair, the satin bow you have tied at the back, your brown dress and tights with a pair of boots—you never had bothered with stilettos or heels in general—and smelling the sweet scent of cinnamon that clings to you—buying you a bottle of Chanel had just been a waste of money that one time, he now knew—he feels his body coming alive again.
And it’s such an incredible sensation after going without it so long. Without you.
Not that he has you back.
He’s unsure that he ever will. In any sense. But if there’s even a minuscule chance… He will do quite literally whatever it takes to win you back. Anything.
Losing you again just might kill him the next time. He’d been surprised more than once that his panic attacks hadn’t landed him in the hospital when he was gasping for breath as his heart squeezed with agonizing pain in his chest every time he looked at your empty desk. Every time he redialed a number that no longer existed, only to be greeted by that empty, robotic voice apologizing that you couldn’t be reached. He’d sent numerous emails to an address that only ever bounced back. But who else did he have to talk to with you being gone?
No one.
He had no one. And he’d made it that way.
All his fault.
Finally, he speaks. “Can I get your address? I doubt you’re at the same apartment as before, but—”
You turn around, finishing up with the mini-notebooks you’d just been seeing to putting away. “I’m not.”
He pulls out his phone and glances up to you, ready to begin typing, taking this in stride as a good first step at repairing what he’s broken.
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You swipe the tomatoes you’d just finished dicing up on your cutting board into the pot atop your stove, glancing back to your tablet on the countertop.
“I can smell it from here. Hardly seems fair that you’re making one of my favorites for another man.”
You smile widely, shaking your head as you start on the green bell pepper next. “You say that about everything I make.”
He grins. “Because you’re such a good cook, baby.”
You stare at him for a moment. “One of us has to be.”
He points his finger toward the webcam. “Hey, I can make a really great bowl of microwavable ramen, as you well know.”
“Is that what you’re surviving off of out there?”
He shakes his head. “No. Crabs—sushi.”
“Oh yeah?” Your lip twitches. “Diving in to catch dinner between shifts for the rest of the crew?”
He studies you for a moment, his own lip twitching as well. “You know how I like it raw, baby.”
You burst into a fit of laughter then.
He smiles warmly, wishing desperately he was there to touch you—kiss you. “It’s so good to hear that. I’ve missed it. You have no idea how much I miss you.”
Your laughs slowly cease, your heart aching. “I do.”
You look back down to the pepper, cutting it into small pieces. “It’s been…difficult. Sleeping at night. Without you here to…to hold me.”
Your eyes flit back to the screen.
He doesn’t hesitate to ask it. “Do you need to come back?”
Your brows furrow. “I just got here—”
“Doesn’t matter. If you need to come back to Alaska, then you do what you did before: you get movers in there tomorrow morning and we get them to drive it all back. I’ll get you on a plane first thing so you can come home.”
You’re quiet for a moment. “It’s not about that. It’s just being apart from you. Which I still would be, even if I jumped on a plane—while living in darkness for the next month all alone—I can’t do that without you. Having you there was the only thing that got me through it last time.”
He nods. “I know. I just had to ask.”
You finish up with the pepper, adding it in next.
“I think it’s just that when I first got here—between settling in and finding a job—I was keeping myself busy. Now I have more time to think. Dwell…”
“On him?”
You glance to the screen, wondering which one he’s referring to. So you simply ask. “Which one do you mean?”
“Either. Both.”
“I know I’ll never see my rapist again. Or, rather, if I walked by him on the street, I obviously wouldn’t recognize him. It’s in the past now. I worked past it in therapy. You know how much I liked going to group,” you say with a shrug, and he nods with a smile.
He’d been grateful to the people you met there for helping pull you back from the edge. Liked that you enjoyed going and talking to and confiding in them so much.
You continue. “As for Harvey…I just hate that he’s going to have to live with it now. Like me. That all the time it took for me to no longer blame myself—he’s at that starting line.”
Charlies thinks how best for a moment to word it, but there’s really no other way to. “It’s not your job to absolve him of his guilt.”
You glance to him, mentally raising a brow at his tone. There was only one of you who had moved past heaping blame upon him.
“He couldn’t have known.”
He sighs, about to have a conversation the two of you have repeated time and again. “No, but he allowed a young woman to walk home alone late at night in New York. I don’t give a shit how angry he was—not that you asking for someone to love you back is something I can ever imagine being angry at you for. Nothing excuses it.”
He stops talking then, knowing he could go further—has in the past. To just throw you away like that… He can’t fathom it. Not now. Not with you being his entire life. But he’s never been the kind of man to take good things for granted, either.
“I could’ve gotten on my office phone and just called a cab instead of hoping to spot one from the street.”
He rests his arms atop the desk he’s seated at, softening.
“It’s one person’s fault,” he reminds you.
Even if he’ll always resent Harvey, even minimally—doesn’t matter that he has no idea what he so much as looks like—he will. Because he had hurt the girl he loves in such a terrible way.
You nod, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I know.”
You sigh, grinning. “So, about your famous ramen—”
There’s a knock at the door then and you turn your head in that direction.
“He there?” Charlie asks.
You set your knife down, turning back to him. “Well, it’s either him or my boyfriend.”
“That’s it, I’m getting on a plane,” he replies with a playful smile.
You giggle.
“Alright, I’ll let you go. I need to soon myself anyway.”
You nod, ignoring the tears that sting your eyes as you force a smile. “Be careful. And…make sure you’re eating enough. And staying warm. And—”
“I am, baby. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Because you don’t worry about me?”
He shrugs. “Fair enough.”
Another knock.
You sigh.
“I love you, sweetheart. Let me know how it goes tomorrow.”
“I will. I love you, too. More than anything.”
“Bye, baby.”
“Bye.”
Once he’s ended the video chat, you stare at your reflection in the black screen and your face crumples as you wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder if he ever does the same—falls apart for even just a moment after being forced to say goodbye yet again. Doing it dozens of times still has yet to make it any easier.
Finally, you take a deep breath, gathering yourself, and head for the front door.
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“I brought wine. Hope that’s okay,” Harvey says, handing you the bottle.
You take it from him with a smile and a nod. “It is. Thank you. You really didn’t need to, though.”
You head back in the direction of the kitchen, retrieving a corkscrew from a drawer, and hand it to him.
“Would you mind? I need to stir the pasta.”
He shakes his head, taking it from you—his fingers brushing against yours—watching as you turn back toward the stove, doing a brief taste-test.
Once he’s opened the bottle, you nod toward the cabinet next to him. “Wine glasses are in there.”
He retrieves two, handing you one once he’s filled it enough for a sample.
“Tell me what you think.”
You take a small sip, nodding. “It’s good. I’m just glad it’s not white.”
He grins, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms. “Yeah, well, I got a kick out of the look on your face the night I bought a five thousand dollar bottle of it to try and impress you, if nothing else.”
You add in a bit of Italian seasoning, placing the small bottle back on the spice rack. “I was just as happy to have a glass of ice water.”
He stares at the back of your beautiful head of hair with a soft smile. “I know.”
Harvey takes a chance to take a look around your apartment then, stepping into the living room that’s just behind the counter he’d been previously leaned back against.
It’s small, but cozy.
Warm.
Homey.
Like you.
To his right is the front door he’d just come through, directly in front of him your couch, a coffee table in front of it, a small entertainment center with a flat screen standing atop it pushed against the wall, bookshelves on either side of it.
Behind the couch are more shelves with floor-length windows in-between. Beside the entertainment center is the bathroom and beside it, your presumable bedroom.
Blankets, pillows, books, candles, plants, and adorable knick-knacks are very-much in abundance. Along with rugs here and there—paintings, and a quilt hanging on the wall that has patches of warm, neutral colors sewn together.
“You get this in Alaska?” He calls from the living room, taking a sip of his wine.
“Hm?”
“The quilt by your front door.”
“Oh! Yes, I did. There was a craft fair in town. I entered into a raffle for it and I won.”
You’d wanted it so badly that Charlie had joked that if you didn’t win it, he’d mug the person who did just to get it for you.
Harvey smirks. A craft fair. Sounds like you.
He returns to the kitchen then, admiring your small herb planters resting on the windowsill in front of the sink.
And then he studies the various magnets stuck to your fridge. One being that of the Empire State Building, which makes him smile.
And then his brows furrow, a cold feeling overtaking him as he slips a photo free from a magnet of the state of Alaska that holds it in-place.
A man with a short beard and short, messy blonde hair smiles at the camera—your arms wrapped around his neck as you place a firm kiss to his cheek—snow-capped mountains in the background, the sun shining in the distance.
“Who—who is this?” He asks, glancing to you.
You turn off the burner on the stove, glancing to him, then the photo he grips between his fingers. “Oh, that’s Charlie. My fiance.”
His heart squeezes painfully, and he suddenly feels lightheaded.
“You’re getting married?” He asks with a tone of disbelief.
You keep your back turned to him as you retrieves plates from the cabinet. “In a little over a month, when I go back to Alaska.”
He stumbles back, dropping the picture. He coughs, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, struggling to breathe.
He had thought he was past these.
The world begins to move in slow motion, his body feeling disconnected from his mind—heart jumping and beating unevenly in his chest. His hands begin to tremble as his throat tightens and constricts.
He rushes toward the bathroom, ignoring as you call for him in concern as he slams the door behind him, doubling over the sink before his legs give out and he falls to the floor—knocking something over.
“Harvey!” you call from outside the bathroom with a panicked tone.
You knock a few times in rapid succession while he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to count backwards from ten—desperate to breathe.
You finally open the door and your eyes widen in fear at the sight of him doubled over, a hand clutching his chest as he takes in wheezing breaths.
You drop to your knees in front of him, taking his face firmly between your hands as your eyes flit between his—wide and frightened. “What do I—oh God, should—do I need to call an ambulance? Are—are you having a heart attack?!”
He swiftly takes one of your hands in his, squeezing hard. “Panic—”
You shake your head, desperate to understand. “Are—a panic attack?”
He nods repeatedly.
You seat yourself next to him. “What do I do? Are you supposed to take something for it? Is it in your pocket? I don’t—”
He suddenly wraps his arms around you then, pulling you toward him, burying his face between your breasts, closing his eyes as he begins trying to count again while he breathes in your comforting scent.
You suddenly quiet, reaching up and wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while you run the fingers of your other shaking hand through his hair.
You have half-a-mind to start singing him a nursery rhyme, having no idea what else to do—desperate to help—but eventually decide against it.
Finally, his breathing steadies, his body loosens, and he’s left feeling utterly drained as his heart returns to a normal rhythm at last.
He doesn’t let go of you, however.
“You’re leaving,” he mumbles, cheek resting against the plane between your soft breasts while he listens to your heart for comfort.
You caress his head in your hands. “In a month, yes.”
He tightens his arms around your body. As if holding you now will prevent you from leaving again later.
“Why come back in the first place just to leave again? And so soon? Especially if you have…him there waiting for you?”
“Did you know it’s essentially night in Alaska for two months? Every year?”
He shrugs. “I think I heard that once.”
He closes his eyes.
“The only thing that got me through that darkness last time was Charlie. I think I would’ve had an easier time about it if—” You stop.
“If you hadn’t been running from what happened to you here,” he finishes.
You swallow, nodding. “He’s working on an off-shore oil rig right now. I just…the thought of going through those two months all alone—sixty days—I couldn’t. So we talked about it. I know New York is a long ways away. But I came here for two reasons. One, it’s familiar. So there was comfort there. Two, to face my fears. Which was—is—simultaneously uncomfortable, but…it’s something I needed to do for myself.”
“So what are you going to do when you go back and in another ten months it gets dark again?”
“Once I get back, we get married, and then we’re moving out west. To Wyoming. And then we’ll start our new life together.”
He feels his heart stutter again.
“I thought—” He stops, opening his eyes again, ignoring the tears that cause them to sting. “I thought you’d come back for good.”
He pulls back, looking at you. “I guess that’s why you didn’t try to reach out to me. That, and the fact that I only serve as a reminder.”
You shake your head, taking his face between your hands. “You’re not.”
“Then explain it to me. Because had I not walked into that bookstore I never would’ve known. Would I?”
You release him then, settling your hands in your lap, crossing your legs. “You’d made it clear that last night that we were done. So I moved on. I saw no reason to try and get back in touch with you.”
He leans back against the tub.
“Did you not—” He stops, sighing, not wanting to make it about himself. “Somewhere along the way, you didn’t wonder what you suddenly up and disappearing would’ve left me to think?”
He looks at you then, watching as you stare down at your hands, fidgeting with your engagement ring that he’d failed to bother with noticing before.
Entitled.
That’s what he was for thinking you couldn’t have possibly moved on. For thinking that you still belonged, somehow, to him within your heart.
You shrug. “Honestly? I figured you would’ve gotten past it fairly quickly. Even at that, that you’d have my position filled before the end of the week.”
He turns toward you, resting an arm on the edge of the tub, shaking his head. “That’s how little you thought you meant to me?”
Your eyes meet his then. “Isn’t that what you said?”
He shuts his mouth, his eyes filling with sadness for you. For the destruction he wrought.
How many times has he claimed that he doesn’t get attached, when he knows otherwise? But it’s only when the other person dares ask for more that he finally lashes out. As if he’s not guilty of wanting it, too.
He’s just too much of a coward to allow himself to have it.
And now? Now it has lost him everything.
Again.
He slumps back.
“I don’t…remember you having panic attacks before,” you say quietly.
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “They started after you left.”
Your heart sinks. “Oh.”
He crosses his arms. “They got pretty bad. I was having them every day. Sometimes multiple times just in one. The day I collapsed in front of a client was the day I knew I had to finally get help. That they weren’t going away on their own.”
He could still remember it.
He’d been in a conference room, meeting with them, and a girl had walked past—from the back she had resembled you so closely—so he’d froze as he stared, mouth still hanging open from being mid-sentence. From her hair, to the way she was dressed—she’d even had the right build. And then she’d turned around to speak to someone and he’d seen her face.
And his body had gone cold all over, and then his knees gave out.
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.”
He smirks, wryly. “My therapist tells me I have abandonment issues, apparently.”
Your face crumples. “I didn’t intend for my leaving to… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Harvey.”
“You don’t need to keep apologizing,” he says, settling one of his hands over yours.
“I’ll stop as soon as you do,” you say with a small smile.
He doesn’t return your humor.
You sigh then. “Would you still like to have dinner?”
His eyes flit to the doorway. “If I’m being honest, I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
He twines his fingers between yours.
You clear your throat awkwardly. “I could send you home with some tupperware?”
His head jerks back to you. “You want me to leave?”
Your brows furrow and you begin shaking your head. “No, of course not. I just meant when you are ready to go.”
There’s a beat of silence before he finally stands.
He offers you his hand. “I should at least try it, since you went through all the trouble to cook for me.”
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The two of you remained fairly silent through dinner.
Harvey had eaten slowly, but he’d cleaned his plate, which had pleased you to see.
You’d told him about how beautiful Alaska is, and about some of the odd jobs you did there—waitressing, assisting at a small library, cleaning at a local rec center. And he’d told you about some of his recent cases.
It became quickly apparent that the two of you weren’t sure how to talk anymore. Not unless it was about the elephant—rather, elephants—in the room.
Harvey was chomping at the bit to discuss Charlie, but the thought of willingly asking about him—the man who had taken you from him…he’d refused.
So, he’d instead stared at you every chance he got—trying his utmost not to make it glaringly obvious, but being near you again made it near-impossible not to.
He smiled softly as you gushed about the serene nature of Alaska—the mountains, snow, and rivers, the animals and lakes. The small-town people, and how much you enjoyed the jobs you did and the small house you’d rented.
And then you’d brought up group therapy. And how much it had meant to you—helped you. How Charlie had been the one to encourage you to try it. And you were beyond thankful that he had.
Harvey had smiled and told you that he was happy for you—about all of it. But it only served as further proof of the things that still meant the most to you—not being material ones, that is.
He’d been so ignorant to think that money was ever going to be the thing which would make and keep you happy.
Even if that fact had only served to make him fall even harder for you as time went on. But it’d also made being with you all the more difficult—at times, at least. At other instances, it made it as easy as breathing.
In any other relationship, pleasing a woman was a simple task to accomplish by gifting her a box from Tiffany or a shopping bag from Saks—dinner and drinks at a high-end restaurant.
But every time he presented you with a bracelet of sterling silver, or a Swiss watch, or a new dress from Dolce and Gabbana, you’d give him a smile and a polite ‘thank you’, but the look in your eyes always said the same thing: What do I do with this? It’s not what I’m here for—you are; I want you. Can’t you see it yet?
You didn’t want a brand new diamond necklace. You preferred an antique locket—preferably with the photos still inside—from a flea market. You didn’t want skimpy lingerie that cost a few hundred dollars—a warm sweater from Target was enough to please you. You didn’t want thousand dollar dinners at bougie restaurants. You preferred Chinese takeout and a movie playing in the background as you curled into his side on the couch. You didn’t care about being driven around town in sports cars. You enjoyed walks in the park, with your arm wrapped around his, while you sprinkled seed for the birds and watched families playing with their children.
“Did you keep any of it?” He finally asks.
He wouldn’t blame you if you had set it all ablaze with a bottle of lighter fluid instead.
“Hm?”
“All the gifts I bought you.”
You set your fork down, settling your hands in your lap, looking down nervously.
Your body language alone serves as his answer.
“I donated it, actually.”
He doesn’t hate you for it. He’s not even surprised by it. You having a charitable heart wasn’t a new development.
He’d tried taking you shopping once uptown, and after showing you a three-thousand dollar dress he’d wished to see you try on, along with a pair of Jimmy Choos, you’d looked at the price tags and then at him—your smile quickly fading.
You’d merely asked him, as you placed it all back, for him to use that money to make a difference instead. So, the next morning, he’d called you into his office and made you watch as he wrote a check for the same amount to a local homeless shelter.
His heart had melted as he watched you fight back tears at the gesture.
He’d done it for you. Just to make you happy.
He hates the look of guilt on your face at your answer. So he decides to lighten the mood. “Even the lingerie?”
You grin and he breathes a sigh of relief.
“I did keep one thing.”
He raises a brow.
You stand, padding over to your record player and you retrieve an album and return to the table.
He smiles, nodding as he looks it over. His first gift to you.
“The thing you kept was the one thing I didn’t buy.”
He hands it back to you, but his grip stays strong as you go to grab it.
Your eyes meet his.
“Do you remember the night I gave it to you?”
You nod.
He stands, releasing it, and you quickly hug it to your chest.
“Do you want to do it again?” He asks, one hand sliding into his pocket, the other cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against the apple of it.
You take a small step back, shaking your head—knowing that one thing had led to another that evening, and that you’ll never go down that road again.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
A beat of silence, and then he asks the question that's been gnawing at him all through dinner. "Does he know about us? What we had? Does he know I'm here right now?"
You nod, heading toward the kitchen. "We have no secrets between us. Honesty is something we both cherish and something we both agreed upon early-on. That we would tell each other everything. No matter how uncomfortable it may be. Being able to bare our souls to one another... We don't see a reason in being together if we can't."
He wonders what kind of man would allow you to be alone with someone like him after all he's done. All the pain he's caused. But even more than that: after the sort of relationship that'd carried on between the two of you before.
A better one, perhaps. One that doesn't make you promise that you belong only to him while he refuses to give you the same in return.
A man that trusts you wholly.
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Harvey leans back against the counter to the right of you, watching as you finish with loading the dishwasher, wiping down the sink.
His heart pounds rapidly in his chest—so hard it hurts, his mouth dry, and stomach twisting with anxiety.
He shouldn’t say it. Shouldn’t even be thinking it.
There’s a lot he shouldn’t have.
He should be a better man than this, but he’d made a promise to himself, and he was nothing if not a man of his word.
“I want you to leave him and come back to me.”
Your spine stiffens.
Meanwhile, he ignores it and goes full-steam head.
“Marry me. We’ll go to the courthouse first thing in the morning—as soon as they open—and become husband and wife. I’ll buy you any diamond ring you like. I’ll throw you as big a wedding as you like. I’ll get you a brand new car—fresh off the lot. I’ll buy you any house you want—fully furnished—in any neighborhood you want. And if you want your job back at the firm, I’ll make it happen. With a raise. Better benefits. Whatever you wish. Just tell me, and I’ll do it. You won’t have to worry about another thing ever again if you just say yes. I’ll take care of you.”
He grows silent then, his underarms sweating, his body practically vibrating from nerves.
And then you reply quietly, and simply. “No.”
He refuses to accept that as your final answer.
“I know this seems sudden. But I made a promise to myself that if you ever came back I would fight like hell to keep you. To fix what I’d broken. I wouldn’t just let you go again without giving it everything I could to win you back.”
He steps over to you then, turning you around, cupping one side of your face in his hand while the other slides around your waist to hold you close. “I lost you once. I don’t intend to do it again. Next time…next time it might just finally kill me. I can’t live without you. I know that now. I learned from my mistakes. Just—come back to me. Please.”
“Charlie is my home,” you say quietly, tears shimmering in your eyes.
His own flit between yours. “Is he willing to give you everything I just offered? Can he give you the kind of life that I can?”
You press your hands to his chest, but he refuses to loosen his hold.
“He’s not buying me a house, Harvey. He’s going to build us one—our dream home. He isn’t purchasing me some flashy diamond ring. He’s giving me his mother’s. And he’s not trying to bribe me back into a relationship with the offer of an empty, unfulfilling job. He’s going to provide me a life where I can stay home and care for our children while he takes care of the rest. And his proposal wasn’t an attempt at rectifying some mistake of previously taking me for granted. He proposed because he knew early-on that he couldn’t imagine going back to living a life without me in it.”
He swallows thickly, his throat bobbing.
“After all this time you still don’t see me. Don’t understand me.”
He shakes his head, his eyes searching your own, wanting elaboration.
“You still think that money will solve all of your problems when that was never what I cared about. Harvey, you had me. I gave you my heart, but you threw it away, because all you wanted me for was my body. It took me driving over four thousand miles away to see things clearly. But I finally did. You treated me like some…some call girl—some prostitute—instead of with respect. You made me feel disposable. But I put up with it because I thought if I held on tight enough, and for long enough, you’d eventually love me back. Even now you’re willing to ruin another man’s life, so long as it gets you what you want. It has nothing to do with me.”
“That is bullshit,” he spits. “It has everything to do with you and you know it. You really think I’d ever make these kinds of offers to another woman? You’re what I want. Baby,” he leans in closer to you. “I’m sorry, alright?”
Tears fill his eyes. “I’m sorry for what I did. That I broke your heart. That I destroyed your life. But mine was left in shambles, too, the day you left. I can’t take losing you twice.”
You shake your head. “You don’t get to try and guilt-trip me into a marriage with someone I don’t want to be with anymore.”
He flinches.
“The truth is that you and I would’ve never worked out in the long run. We want different things. We’re too different. Charlie doesn’t buy what other men make. He does it himself with his own two hands. He’s not materialistic. He’s sentimental like me—he finds joy in the little things and the quiet moments. And he’s not ashamed to let other people in—to be vulnerable. If he had been…”
You sniffle. “I don’t know if I’d even be alive right now if it weren’t for him. He came into my life when I desperately needed someone and I fell for him instantly, despite being terrified. Of everything. He saw me. And I tried to pull away. I can’t tell you how many times I did. But he knew why. And he refused to go. He held on tight with everything he had because he knew from the first day he set eyes on me that…that I was what he wanted. Who. That we’re meant to be together.”
Harvey’s chin wobbles as he rapidly grasps for something—anything—to say to still turn this around.
He stares down at you. “Tell me you don’t feel anything for me, then. That you don’t still love me.”
You grow quiet for a moment, a tear slipping down your cheek, which he gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.
“A part of me may always love you, Harvey. But I’m not in love with you. Not anymore.”
His brows furrow. “What’s the goddamn difference?”
“Loving you means hoping that you find what I have. Being in love with you, means hoping it’s with me. And I don’t.”
He lets out a small sob, his heart breaking in two.
“Charlie is my home” you repeat. “I don’t…expect you to understand what that feels like—”
“I know exactly what it feels like,” he says, cutting you short. “Now imagine losing that suddenly and without warning. What kind of hell do you think that would put you through?”
“I didn’t make that decision. You chose to let go. I offered you my love on a silver platter and you threw it back in my face. But in the end I’m glad you did. Even after what happened to me… I never believed before that everything happens for a reason like so many say. I just saw life as a series of random choices we’re all forced to make every day. There’s no rhyme or reason to any of it. It’s just the way things are. But when I met him that changed. We were meant to find each other.”
Finally he says the only thing he has left to try and pull you back.
“But I love you.”
Your lip trembles. “I love him. With everything I have. My heart, my mind, my body, my soul. I gave him everything I can because I want him to have it. Because I trust him to hold those things in the palms of his hands. Because with him, they all have value. With him I feel like I do. I never felt that with you. With you I just…settled.”
The two of you stand there, staring at one another, him wracking his mind with something else to offer.
“I’ll move to Wyoming and open my own firm, then.”
You glance away, shaking your head.
“I’ll…I’ll build you a house. I’ll figure out how. And you can be a housewife if that’s really what you want—”
You pull away from him. “Stop.”
“I can’t. I let go once and it destroyed both of us. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Your wants are not the only things that matter.”
He grows angry. But not with you. Himself.
He knows it’s over and done. Has been since that last night.
He hurt you. In such an unimaginable way. He wants you to repay it.
“You really think some rough neck that works on an oil rig is a better man than me?”
Your eyes fill with loathing then. You he can talk about. Charlie? No. That you won’t allow.
“So he has rough hands. As if that means anything—”
“It means everything to me.”
“He won’t be enough for you. You’ll get bored with playing Little House. And when you do—”
“Stop.”
“When you do—”
“I said stop it, Harvey. I know what you’re doing.”
He shuts his mouth.
Your anger quickly melts away into heartbreak. For him.
“We can’t do this to each other again. We can’t let our last words to each other be in anger. Twice. Haven’t you learned yet? Don’t you get tired of it? Punishing yourself?”
He looks away, crossing his arms, finally breaking as he begins to cry. “I fucking destroyed your life.”
His shoulders begin to shake as he sobs.
You come toward him, wrapping your arms around him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you into him.
“I’m so goddamn sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
You choke back a sob. “Shh. It’s not your fault. I forgive you. You don’t have to feel guilty.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to live without you.”
“I know.”
“Please come back to me, I’ll do anything you say. I can fix it.”
The lump in your throat grows so large that you can’t form words over it, so you instead begin to cry with him.
Once you’ve both begun to quiet and calm, you break the silence. “You won’t feel like this forever, Harvey. I promise.”
You pull back just enough to take his face between your hands. “I thought I’d never make it out of that dark tunnel that swallowed me whole. But one day I found a glimmer of light at the end and I fought with everything I had to hold onto it. The pain of what happened to me will always be with me, but one day it was just…easier to bear. Especially when I found someone willing—wanting—to help me carry it.”
You press a kiss to his forehead. “One day you will find her: the woman you’re meant to be with. You just have to give yourself permission to be happy. Give her permission to make you as much. And you cherish what you build together.”
“What if I already did?” He asks, tears slipping down his cheeks.
You smile. “Sweetheart, we would’ve eventually made each other miserable. Because one of us would’ve had to settle so the other could get the life they wanted. I hate the city and you would’ve hated the country. I hate the idea of dedicating my life to a career, while yours is your life. You like flashy, expensive things, while I prefer second-hand finds that I can give another life to. You may’ve loved me, but you would’ve hated the life we had and vice-versa.”
He pulls you close to him again, cupping the back of your head. “I love you so much.”
More tears begin to slip down your cheeks. Nothing you say is going to—
“And it’s because I love you that I know I have to let you go. For your sake this time instead of mine.”
He presses his forehead to yours. “You feel like home to me. But that’s the thing about home—is that it’s just that: a feeling. And in time…maybe I can find it again.”
You nod, smiling. “I think I might know a good place to start when you’re ready.”
You lean back, gently running your fingertips through the short, soft hairs just above his ear. “She knows everything about you. And she’s been waiting all this time. Get Donna back as your secretary. Tell her how much she means to you, and go from there. Don’t let her slip through your fingers again, or you’ll never forgive yourself. She’s the one, Harvey. I know it. Just like he is for me. You don’t even have to go looking, because she’s already right there in front of you. It’s not too late.”
His eyes study yours for just a moment, and then he nods.
“Thank you,” he starts. “For giving me a chance to do it right this time.”
“I think it’s part of why I came back. I just didn’t realize it until now. Being able to say goodbye the right way. Not with anger or heated words. I think this closure is something we both needed.”
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours, and you let him.
He kisses you.
And you kiss him back.
And then he whispers goodbye.
As do you.
And then he leaves.
And it’s with peace in his heart, which beats steadily in his chest.
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yooglefics · 2 months
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hii! its been a few days since i found u and i love ur writing and stories!! could i request a fic where yoongi and (possibly) female reader have a fight over jealousy (its either her or him or both even idk) and its a little angsty idk but then they make up and its all fluffy 🤓🤓 thank u in advance luv
Hellooo. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this pair and some angst, I did a hint of both being jealousy, but is mostly him haha. Sorry it took me a while to finally post it, but I wanted it to be good, and I hope you like it!
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Jealous, jealousy
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,467 words Genre: AU. Established relationship. Angst and comfort / fluff.  Summary: Jealousy has never been a problem in your relationship, not until a comment can't leave Yoongi's mind and interactions at your office’s party just make it worse. Content warnings under read more.
Includes: Jealous Yoongi. People thinking there's something between Jin and Reader… even Yoongi. Miscommunication. They argue. And then they're cute.
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It all starts with the perilla leave question between Yoongi's friends one night out and a few rounds of soju in. As a self-identified non-jealous person, his answer was that it didn't mean anything, and even told the story about how it happened a few days ago when your coworker joined you two for lunch.
Jungkook, the non-identified most jealous person of the group, had obviously called him stupid. Questioned him about that guy and told him to be careful. “If I were you, Yoongi, I'd keep my eye on him.”
Little rascal; didn't even bother to use honorifics with him anymore.
But the worst thing is that the idea is now on his head and not even Yoongi knows how bad it is about to get as he steps into your office party a few weeks later. Now having the opportunity to see his girlfriend and her favorite coworker interact more in a familiar environment.
Even the ones who don't know Yoongi a lot, know he can be pretty reserved around new people, that's why you continue to make your polite round of interactions after saying hi and leaving him at a table with a whiskey and snacks. Promising to come back as soon as possible.
He looks at you across the room, all professional and sweet, the queen of small talk and polite smiles, and one forms on his own lips without realizing. Only doing so when it's erased as someone greets him, sitting down beside him and he tries to follow your steps at looking, at least, a bit cordial. 
“I don't think I've seen you before. Are you here with ( y / n ) or Seokjin?”
“Yes, with ( y / n ).”
“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised, “I didn't know she was inviting someone.” 
“Well, I like supporting her, don't really need the invitation” he chuckles a bit awkwardly, “I'm her boyfriend.”
“Oh, so she is dating someone?” Again, the surprise in her tone makes Yoongi believe is a true emotion, and that confuses him.
“For a few years now, yes.”
“And here I was thinking that those two were going to be the next office romance,” she says sounding disappointed before realizing, “oh my— not that it's bad they don't, just… they are both attractive and you know…”
«Is that supposed to make it better?», he wants to ask, but instead he laughs, trying to dismiss everything as her hand lays on his forearm that is resting on the table, trying to reassure him as she goes on about him being handsome too and whatnot.
He stopped listening now. Because after that interaction, one hour seems long enough when half of that you have spent besides that guy, and Jungkook's words keep growing in his head as if he were watering them with the sweet alcohol. The one he has to switch hands to sip from now, because your coworker keeps the other prisoner of her hand. 
Not even the excuse ( that is actually not really an excuse because he needs it ) to get a refill works and she only stops rambling his ear off when someone arrives at the place and she finally leaves the table to greet them.
“I saw you made a friend,” your sweet smile is almost enough to make him forget his thoughts when he is joined by you at the bar while ordering another whiskey.
“Well, figure I should while you had fun with yours.” he shrugs in an effort to dismiss negative feelings.
“Wait, did you actually make friends with her?” is your turn to sound surprised, corners of your mouth falling a little.
“Is a problem if I did?”
“I… I mean, I was joking but I don't like her very much. You can make friends with other people, though.”
“Ah, thanks for the clear up.” He walks back to the table to sit down, and even he can acknowledge it was a weird response, so, your next question doesn’t shock him.
“Are you okay?”
“What if I made friends with your best friend, what's his name?” he asks instead. Comments from others blurring his psyche, making him act without much thinking.
“Jin?”
“Is that his name? She called him Seokjin”
“Well, Seokjin, Jin for short. What's the big deal?”
“Nothing. Just… that's what she said when she asked who I was here with,” he explains before taking a sip.
“Of course she asked you that,” and eye roll accompanies your words. 
“Yeah, because apparently you didn't say you invited your boyfriend.” but he thinks there is more important matters than you not liking your coworker. “As a matter of fact she didn't know you had a boyfriend.”
“Because is none of her business. She doesn't need to know about my relationship.”
“She does when she is talking about you and Seokjin having a romance.”
“What?!”
“Sorry. You and Jin.”
“Shut up, you know that's not what I meant. Can't believe she said that.” You steal a sip from his whiskey before continuing, “No actually, I can.”
He buffs. “You can?”
“Yeah, I told you, she is… not likable.”
“Just that? Not because it would be believable for you two to be together?” He asks, his annoyance clearer as seconds go by.
“Jin and I? Please, that's ridiculous.”
“Okay.”
“Why? Are you jealous?” You inquire, playfully. As if it would be impossible to be true.
“Yes.”
“Wait. Really?! But you have never been jealous.”
“Maybe I am now.” 
“Because of Jin?” you’re confused at how serious he is being, but before you can question more about it, you’re interrupted by said guy.
“Oh, I was summoned. Hi.” he greets your partner, so casually since he doesn’t realize Yoongi is mad with him too. “Can you come back? I don't want to interact with those people alone.”
You look at your co-worker and friend for a few seconds, and then to your boyfriend, trying to understand what is happening and if he is actually jealous. Him, Min Yoongi, the less jealous person you’ve ever met.
“Go, have fun.” Your boyfriend encourages you, managing a smile that only confuses you more because is clear to you that it’s not genuine.
What the hell is happening?
You’re surrounded with interactions the rest of the night, from your co-workers to their partners, people seem interested in Jin and you, after all, it’s the first big party since the both of you joined the company. Even when you go back to sit with Yoongi people get close to make conversation, one person actually asks about wedding planing and tells you she can get you in contact with someone. You know she means well so, with your best smile, you thank her and change the subject.
You hate those conversations. 
Having spent your childhood between your parents’ fights because «staying together for their kids» was a priority, when in reality it only made it worse for everyone involved, you grew up hating the idea of getting married. You understand it is for love, but you don't need a paper or a big party to announce that you love Yoongi. You don't need a ring on your finger to promise you'll do it forever. You don't need him to propose, let alone ask your parents permission to do so. 
Is your life, your decisions. The only opinion that matters other than yours is Yoongi's and he has always understood, never pressured you. He is the love of your life, after all.
In the car on the way home, the silence is filled with music from the stereo and you try to take Yoongi’s hand on the gear lever as always, but only a couple of seconds pass before he pulls away, both hands on the wheel now. 
Trying to figure out if it was on purpose, you ask, “What are you thinking about?” 
“You spend a lot of time with him,” he says without a beat.
“You told me to go.”
“I mean in general.”
“We work together, can't really do much about that.”
“You weren't working tonight and still it was like you were joined at the hip.” he hasn’t looked at you and you can’t decide if it hurts or bothers you more.
“Again, you told me to go at the end,” you argue. “ If you wanted me to stay with you, you could have said so.”
“Now I have to ask you to spend time with me?”
“Well, I can’t read your mind, honey.” you poke his cheek, softly. An attempt to lighten the mood a little.
“That’s not the point.” His tone is just as serious. And then you know that, whatever this is, it’s deeper than you thought.
“What is it then?” you genuinely ask, annoyance starting to build up inside you, but trying to stay calm. Surely he can tell, you think. “You’re clearly upset, but why?”
“Shouldn't I be? When my girlfriend keeps hanging out with this good-looking dude and everyone thinks they could be a thing?” 
“Really?” How can he even entertain those thoughts? You with another man? Doesn’t he hear how ridiculous it sounds? “Shouldn't I be upset because you let her touch your arm for like five minutes straight?”
“She was trying to console me.”
“Yeah, that actually makes it worse, Yoongi.” 
“Yoongi?” 
“That's your name.” He finally looks your way, but you’re looking at the road ahead of you and he can’t tell it is just in order to calm down.
“Wait. Why are you turning things on me?”
“Because you're being irrational and I'm not having this conversation.”
Once again the music is the only sound filling the air, and you opt for folding your arms in front of your chest to stop you from reaching for his hand again.
Now both of you are mad. Great. 
Arriving home, he still gets out of the car first to open the door for you, and it helps soften the heartache a little. But still, the night repeats in your head, trying to understand what happened. 
Why suddenly spending time with Jin is a problem? Why is Yoongi so jealous about it? And why—
“You let her touch you after she said Jin and I had a thing?” you ask as both of you are finally in the bedroom, getting ready to end the night. 
“Thought we weren't having this conversation.”
“No. This one is different. This one is about you potentially doing things because you were upset with me.”
“That would be stupid.” He stops his movements, shirt unbuttoned just halfway through. “Why would I do that?”
“I don't know, you aren't exactly acting like yourself tonight.”
“Because I'm jealous?”
“Because we are fighting about you being jealous.” And trying to calm down once again, you continue taking your dress off, struggling with the zipper but too proud to ask him for help right now.
“Okay, let's not fight, then.” He sits down on his side of the bed. “Just answer this question: do you like him?” 
“Yoongi—” 
“Just answer. Please.” when you finally turn to him, the look on his face is different from what you expected. He doesn't seem angry, but hurt. Like your answer could break him.
“Of course not. Not like that.” You emphasize. Giving up on your clothes and kneeling in front of him, taking a breath before continuing. “You know we started at the same time and he is always nice and fun, I think he is my only friend at work because everyone else keeps asking me when I'm going to get married and leave. Like your friend.”
“What?”
“The lady you were talking to. Is always asking personal questions and I don't like it. Not because I don't like talking about you, I love you and I talk with Jin about you all the time, but is just…”
“Not her business. And you don't have to explain yourself to others.” he completes. Yoongi is the first to always remind you that after all.
“Exactly.” 
“Sorry.” he is quick to say, feeling like an asshole now, a hand running through his hair, messing it up, “I really don’t know what is up with me tonight, I’m sorry.”
“Were you actually jealous of Jin?” the disbelief in your voice is funny now, and he nods with a chuckle. “That’s surprising coming from you.”
“I know. Is dumb.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” you move closer to him, hands on his shoulders to make him look at you, “your feelings are not dumb, Yoongi.”
“Can you stop calling me by my name tonight?”
“Sorry,” both of you laugh softly, “but I mean it. Even if it’s irrational to be jealous of anyone because I love you so very much and wouldn’t even dream to be with someone else; your feelings are important, honey. Just… you know, we have to work on a better way of expressing them.”
He chuckles again, still feeling bad about it all but appreciating the reassurance. “I will, promise. I just never felt like this before, is… weird.”
Yoongi has always thought jealousy is stupid. He understands feeling insecure and all that, but acting like he did tonight has always been something he didn’t understand. Something he judged. He thought it was about bad communication, distrusting your partner, and things like that. And, if you don’t trust the person you love, does it make sense to be together? But maybe is not as simple as that.
He didn't care if you had your own friends and went out with them, like some of the people he knows do. He has his own opinion on marriage and engagement rings. But maybe he cares in other ways. Maybe he cares about people thinking you're with someone else because that's probably his biggest fear.
“I don’t like jealousy.” he speaks again, bringing his arms around your waist, hugging you close and resting his head against your torso.
“Good, that means you are not toxic.” A pause while your hand combs through his hair, putting black strains back in place, “and now you know how I feel when people hit on you.”
“People don’t do that.” 
“They do,” he looks up at you, but before he can argue anything, you cup his face and bend a little to peck his lips, softly. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with her and without a warning.”
“I tried to get away but she wouldn't let go of my arm and I didn't want to be rude.” 
His bottom lip sticks out in a small pout and you kiss it away, “Yoonie, sometimes you’re too nice for your own good.”
“Maybe I should be just nice to you.”
“You're too nice for that,” he rolls his eyes, making you laugh even more, “that's why I love you.”
“I love you more, baby.”
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drearycrow · 3 months
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꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚
Notes: I finally got the motivation to write this fic. It's been in my drafts for awhile now. Requests are open.
You were fed up with Dazai's antics. He came home drunk once again after he promised he would quit. Dazai laid down on the couch and stared at you with a smile. "Darling, what's with the sour look on your face? It's a special day tomorrow, you should be excited." You grimaced at his drunken stupor. You walked away from him not wanting to deal with it anymore. Dazai looked at you puzzled. You didn't greet him when he came home like you always do.
You went to your bedroom and laid down on the bed. You didn't know whether or not to end the relationship with him. You were tired of his constant lies, cheating, drinking, and manipulation. Yet you continue to stay with him, continuing the cycle. Tears form in your eyes thinking about him. You love Dazai so much but he doesn't love you back. You cry softly until you fall asleep.
Dazai stood by the door hearing you cry. It immediately sobered him up. He didn't like it when you were crying. He just wants to be happy again and he doesn't understand why you haven't smiled in ages. You haven't smiled since you caught him sleeping with another woman a year ago. Dazai apologized profusely and promised he would change. He didn't bat an eye on any other woman since then and didn't drink until tonight. He opened the bedroom door and laid down next to you. He pulled you close to him. He hugged you tightly and fell asleep shortly after.
Morning arrived and the sunlight peeked through the curtains. Dazai flutters his eyes open, trying to look around. He notices that you weren't in bed. Dazai gets up to go look for you in the apartment. When Dazai goes to the kitchen, there is a note posted on the fridge. He went to take a closer look and reads it.
Dear Osamu,
It hurts my heart to write this. I wish it didn't have to come to this but we are done. I can't take this anymore. I'm sorry.
Dazai's heart crumbles when he reads the note. He can't believe you would leave him like this. He thought the relationship was going well and he improved immensely. It was supposed to be your special day. Today was the day he was going to propose to you.
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Want You Back | ateez x reader
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Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader
Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?
Warnings for this chapter: none
Word Count: 1774 words
a/n: ahhhh it's so surreal to know so many of you like this story!! thank you, thank you thank you so much!! your comments, likes and reblogs mean the absolute world to me!! I already have another fic in mind that I can't wait to share hehe. I was hoping to have this posted yesterday but the week was a bit busier. I'm aiming to post twice a week now that the story will pick up from here! hope you enjoy this chapter!! lots of love <3
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Chapter 3
Things hadn't been the same for the boys anymore. It was six months since you disappeared, without any trace and they were unable to locate you with their bond. Fear had engulfed them when they were told of the attack. They wasted no time in getting back to the mansion to protect you, as their mate and alpha protectiveness senses rang out.
But when they returned, you were nowhere to be found. Cleo, who had been saved by a member of the pack recounted what happened up until you two went separate ways. They searched for you but came back with no clues.
Where did you go? 
In fact, when they tried to call for you through the soul bond, they discovered how strained the bond had become. 
Slowly, each member began to realise just how little they had seen or been with you, and could not even recall the last time you spent time together. At first they tried to deny the truth, surely, there had to be another reason? They couldn’t fathom not taking notice sooner and allowing the connection to reach like this. 
Hongjoong's father wasted no time in educating them about their actions when they came to him seeking answers, especially when his wife tried to pipe in.
“It’s your fault.” he declared unapologetically. 
As he recounted everything to them, they were shattered and distraught by their actions. It dawned on them how ignorant they were to assume that you would always be there no matter what. If there was anything they were taught, it was how precious life is and how important it is to care for those around you. 
How could they do this to you?
"We all make mistakes." Mr. Kim said, "But one can only be redeemed, when he’s willing to learn from it and make a change."
After that confrontation, neither of the boys were the same again. With you now apart from them, your missing presence was felt more than ever in the home. Yeosang walked the mansion’s hall completely despondent, hoping to possibly find you in the little corner where the two of you read, every time he entered the room. Alas, you were not there. When Yunho woke up every morning and heard movement in the kitchen, his heart raced as he believed it was perhaps you, making breakfast just as you always would…but it was only Seonghwa who carried about low-spirited and disheartened. Yunho noticed the dark circles that were forming under the eldest eyes - Seonghwa never slept like he used to, getting approximately 3 to 4 hours of sleep and waking up at daybreak, trying to busy himself so he could forget the aching feeling in his chest just for a little while. He didn’t cry but rather, bottled up his emotions since being the eldest, he felt like he needed to be the strong one for the others. But, like every glass that reaches its brim, Seonghwa finally broke down when Yunho approached and back-hugged him in the tightest hug possible as he let his own tears fall. 
Unlike Seonghwa, San and Jongho slept all day when they could and only left their rooms, if it was for something important. But nothing else felt important except you, so much to their disdain, they ventured out of their rooms, only to head straight back once they got home. Wooyoung became quieter and stuck to Yeosang like glue. He didn’t do or say anything much, he was just there. Sometimes he would stare at the front door, hoping to see you waltz in with your charming smile and he could rush to you and spin you around like he always did. And then playfully scold you and then apologise profusely.
However, there was one particular wolf who was extremely impacted to the point where nothing could comfort him. While the others still tried to find solace in sleep or in each other, Mingi was unable to find consolation in anything. He felt like his heart had been ripped off his chest and there was a void that was only something you could fill. But they still couldn't find you. Mingi tried to initiate the bond hoping that you would feel it and call out to him, but like all the other times he tried, there was no response. He cried until the early hours of the morning and he could not sleep. Even if he dozed off, his dreams were of you and then he would jolt awake again, the aching, distressful and bitter void resurfacing again and he remembers you’re still not here. Then the cycle would continue.
As the boys coped differently, the most different was Hongjoong, who by all accounts had become emotionless and also very mean. He would let Lila wrap her arms around him as if they were a couple, he would try to bring her home only to have Seonghwa immediately denounce it and make it abundantly clear that this kind of behaviour would not be allowed or tolerated. Lila would leave the second she stepped foot into the foyer and Seonghwa and Hongjoong would have it out until the latter stomped off to his room never to be heard from again until the next morning. And that was if anyone did see him. He would leave before Seonghwa came out of his room. It took all effort in Mingi when he did see Hongjoong to not punch him in the jaw. He did not know what he was playing at, and quite frankly, he did not care to know Hongjoong's excuses as he was already extremely fed up, especially because of the way Hongjoong's mother spoke.
"Maybe you should forget her and move on with someone else," she said as she eyed Lila, “The pack needs their Luna and people are talking.”
That was during a family dinner with all their respective families. First and foremost, Mingi was not amused. He was already dragged to the dining hall against his will, and then when he saw Lila present standing next to Hongjoong, he was ready to just explode into thin air. And then, Hongjoong’s mom decided to speak, and that was the last straw. 
It didn't take even a second for Mingi to slam his hands on the table and get up with a low growl in his throat.
“With all due respect Mrs Kim, I suggest you stay out of our personal lives and let us handle it on our own. Your comments are very unnecessary.” he seethed venomously. 
 Mingi then stalked off, slamming the door behind him. He didn't care if he was disrespectful, he was fed up with the nonsense. It baffled him as to why Mrs Kim had such disdain for you, ever since he met you, you told him about her low tolerance for you but there was never a clear indication as to why. 
He knew you were still alive and he knew the other boys felt it too. Your soul connection was still there, though strained, he could feel it lingering. But where exactly were you? He was interrupted by Wooyoung shouting his name.
“Mingi wait!”
“What are you doing here Wooyoung?”
“I wasn’t going to let you leave like that, not everyone is pleased at your outburst.”
“And? I do not care Wooyoung, I’m not going back to listen to Mrs Kim spew ridiculous nonsense. Lila shouldn’t even be there.”
“I know and I agree. Mrs Kim has wanted to replace Y/N since the beginning but she should know better than to even suggest something like that.”
“Go back and tell them I won’t be coming back any time soon. I need to clear my head.”
“Fine but please reach out, I can’t lose you too…” Wooyoung muttered.
Mingi turned to the black-haired boy and saw the fear in his eyes. Wooyoung is the second youngest and basked in being taken care of, doted on and adored by you. In contrast to Jongho who was more reserved most of the time and sought you out privately, Wooyoung, although an alpha, is like a playful child. You were right in between Mingi and Wooyoung in age and so, right before you came Mingi and at a time like this, Wooyoung saw Mingi as the closest.
“I will, don’t worry.” he answered in a soothing and reassuring tone.
After Wooyoung left and Mingi decided he wasn't going back home to get an earful from his parents, he sauntered off towards the lake and the Moon temple. 
He recalled Cleo saying it was the direction you went when you two broke off. Maybe he could find something there.
Arriving at the clearing of the lake, he saw the shimmering blue water glistening under the moonlight. It was another full moon, just like when you disappeared. He had to spend the holidays and his birthday without you and he hated it. Mingi couldn’t even recollect the times he had spent holidays and birthdays by himself. As soon as you and the boys came into his life, his life became a kaleidoscope of colours. 
When Mingi saw the temple, he felt his walls come down. He forgot about Mrs Kim’s comments and the anger that bubbled through his veins. Instead, the wave of pain and hurt opened like a locked dam and he fell on his knees in front of the temple, choked with tears.
"Please..." he cried, "Please bring her back. I need her. I-I was so wrong for what I did. I can't believe I treated her that way. I promise! I'll do better! I won't ever neglect her again. Please bring my angel back. Please."
Mingi sobbed and sobbed profusely that he didn't hear the rumble the first time. He thought it was his stomach and now was definitely not a good time. But then the second time, when he realised it was coming from elsewhere, he turned around to see the ripples in the lake and how much more brightly the water shone under the moonlight. It was mystical and divine. He approached the lake cautiously, he couldn't explain it, but he felt a pull and for some reason…he felt you. Your tie to him and your aura felt to be coming from the lake. But was that possible? He pushed away any intrusive thoughts, focusing solely on you, a clear image of your bright smile and eyes lit up etched into his mind. It was the way you would always look at him as you cupped his face in your hand and teased him before kissing him.
Mingi inched closer, trying to take his time.
But then he fell in.
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animehideout · 5 months
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LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL
PART 13 ( FINAL )
Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader
A/N: Omg can't believe that we reached the end of this ff! I started this fic on Dec 12, 2023 and today it's ending on April 19, 2024 🥺.
Thank you everyone for Being part of this journey, thank you for reading, for your support and for your patience! I truly appreciate and you guys truly saved me! I love every single one of you 💗💗💗.
I hope you enjoy this final part as well, and stay tuned more fics are coming 🔜
I'll post an analysis of this fic to emphasize the meanings, morals and life lessons included, if you're interested of course!
Again thank you so much 🙏🏻🫶🏻
Warning: SMUTTT MDNI 🔞 NOT PROOFREAD ⚠️
If you're a Smut Asmr enthusiast you can click on this YouTube link : Gojo Kissing Asmr to add to the experience while reading.
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In your house, the place that now you can confidently call a home. Crazy how when two souls bind they make any cold and abandoned place, alive and warm.
Satoru closed your bedroom door as both you got inside, his blue eyes never leaving yours, his hands circled your waist, as you walked backwards.
"You gave me a hard time y/n! I thought you hated me for real!"
With hazy eyes that seduced the shit out of him, you spoke,
"I had to give you a taste of your own medicine Satoru"
"Oh God, this attitude gets me fucking hard for you" he blurted out, growing more impatient.
You smirked as you saw how desperate he was,
"Too excited, Satoru?" you teased,
"Mhm, I know you are too!" he answered, pushing you on the big bed and hovered over you, taking you by surprise on how fast he was, "if you allow me my princess"
You nodded, your mind racing with wild thoughts that contradicted your innocent face, you can't wait to feel him inside of you, filling every inch that's screaming for him.
"It-its my first time though–"
"Don't worry princess, just trust me"
..
He leaned down pressing his lips on yours, moaning into the kiss. He stripped out of his clothes in front you, you watched him fully naked before your eyes that scanned him, your inside throbbing, growing impatient wanting him to fill the emptiness inside you. Now he helped you out of your clothes. He paused for a moment to admire your body that was under him. His blue eye glistening with love and lust. His large hands reached to touch your neck, chest, abdomen and then rested on your thighs, spreading your legs.
You closed your eyes as you felt the tickling sensation of his long fingers running on the soft skin of your inner thighs.
"Open your eyes princess, keep your eyes on me"
You nodded and did as he said feeling the heat,
"Mhm"
"Fuck... look at you princess so wet for me"
You gasped a bit when you felt his breath on your pussy. He admired you for a bit, the his tongue started working on pleasuring you down there.
You felt the need to grab into something, so your hands found their way to his hair, pulling on it.
"S-shit" you moaned,
as he continued to eat you out,
"Let it go baby", he whispered still devouring you till you cane around his tongue.
"Fuck"
"You taste so good baby, daamn" he exclaimed as he now slowly pushed himself inside you. "F-fuck baby" he groaned at your tightness.
"S-satoru"
"T-tell me when you w-want me t-to move baby" he groaned wanting to thrust into you so bad.
"You can move" you whispered
He slowly started moving, looking at you making sure you felt comfortable. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss, while he pulled out and pushed back into you. You whimpered from the new sensation that made you crave him even more.
"You okay?"
"Mhm f-faster"
He smirked, finally getting the green light ti pound you, each thrust sent both of you on cloud nine.
"Satoru don't stop" you moaned rolling your eyes back.
Your words and moans only motivated him to keep going faster and harder leading him and you to your climax.
"Shit, I-I'm close S-satoru" you shut your eyes tightly.
"Fuck—together baby"
You rocked your hips up, both of your hearts pounding out of your chests till both of you released at the same time.
"Yeaah oh fuck baby"
He laid next to you on the bed for a few moments looking into each other's eyes then started giggling as he pulled you to his chest.
"you did so good princess, I love you so much"
"I love you too"
.....
"Here! lemme help you clean up!"
"Thanks" you smiled softly
"What about we watch a movie and cuddle till we fall asle–.. are you okay?" he asked as he saw you zoning out.
"I–I'm" but you couldn't finish your sentence, feeling out of breath.
"Y/n what's wrong?" asked Gojo worriedly,
"I- I can't breathe–" you stuttered,
You quickly put on your panties, and grabbed Gojo's shirt that was thrown on the bedroom floor and put it on, hurrying outside for some air. You clutched your chest, coughing violently, each cough racked your body making you stumble into the wall and random objects.
"Baby- y/n lemme take you to Shoko" he said trying to grab you, but you flinched away, you were too sensitive to any touch,
"No-no"
"Baby please wait" he pleaded, still fully naked,
You swung the house door open, rushing to the street trying to inhale fresh air as much as possible but it was too hard to do so, making effort to breathe. Barefoot, only in Gojo's shirt that became a dress on you. Desperately gasping for oxygen. Cold sweat trickled down your forehead, your vision blurred, dizziness taking over you, your world spinning trying your best to take control over your body that betrayed you.
Gojo rushed outside as well, he had to put his pants on before chasing after you. He couldn't leave the house naked.
"AAAAAAA" you screamed your lungs out, as your eyes scanned your surroundings,
"Y/N" yelled Gojo, fear taking over him, he hugged you tightly, you buried your head in the crook of his neck.
With a flick of his finger he exorcised the curses that were surrounding both of you in the area, making them disappear in a matter of seconds.
"A-re those–?" you mumbled, feeling your heart beats get steadier and your breathing back to normal.
"Yes, curses! wait– you can see them!??" he asked, his eyes widened when he realized you saw the curses.
"Wait!!! I saw them?!!" you looked at Gojo in surprise processing the fact that you can see curses now.
"Does that mean–"
"My curse broke!?"
"Your curse broke!?"
both of you exclaimed at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.
Gojo hugged you tight, spinning you around.
"Omg baby finally!!! We have to go to Jujutsu High now!" he added,
"Wait– can we go tomorrow? I don't think I'm ready to face them, besides I'm still processing it" you said looking uncomfortable.
"I know, but I'm sorry princess, we don't have a choice! it is a must that we inform them now! All of us have been waiting for this"
You nodded in defeat, after all informing them is totally the better option than seeing other curses and not knowing what to do beside screaming.
You went back to your house, took a shower and put on some proper clothes on while Satoru made a phone call to Principal Yaga.
"You ready sweetheart?" he asked.
"Yeah ready" you answered with a deep breath.
"Hey hey babe, look at me! it will be alright. I'll be by your side the whole time okay?" he said cupping your cheeks.
• At Jujutsu High •
You hesitantly sat on the chair, the higher-ups eyes fixated on your every move, making you feel extremely awkward.
"So Gojo Y/n, Satoru told us that you were able to see curses tonight and that you had trouble breathing and dizziness?" said one of the higher ups
"Mhm yes right, I couldn't breathe and I had a weird feeling as if I'm being choked or suffocated and when I went out for some air I've seen 3 curses surrounding us"
"And you're aware of what that means?"
"It means my curse broke— right?"
"Correct! how did it break though? what did you do to break it? It's been months since taking your vows why did it break tonight?" he asked
"uhm" you didn't know what to say,
You and Satoru looked at each other, and you can see the smirk on his face, then you realized that the vows were not the ones to break the curse, but true love bonding; by making love.
You can feel your cheeks warm up, a red tint colored them. Satoru lowered his head trying not to burst into uncontrollable laughter when he saw how shy you got from your realization.
You stuttered not knowing what to say, it was really inappropriate to tell them that sex with Gojo broke it. With a small chuckle Gojo looked at them and said,
"Don't worry about it, it just did, I helped her with it"
"It is official then. Y/n ! starting from today you're officially a Jujutsu Sorcerer welcome to our society"
You kinda felt proud that now you're part of something and not just a purposeless human being who doesn't even know themselves. But at the same time you felt terrified at the fact that you've got hella responsibilities on your shoulder starting from tonight.
"Thank you" you muttered, fidgeting with your fingers.
"But I must tell you, a lot of special grade curses will attempt to attack you and kill you–"
"Not only curses but also the other sorcerers" said one of the other higher ups
"other sorcerers? aren't all sorcerers serving the same purpose, killing curses?" you asked
"Well, as you can see, not all sorcerers are good, staring from your case with Mei Mei, there are many of them and more worse than her. You're considered both a balance and a threat to our world y/n" he explained
You felt extremely uneasy and uncomfortable, too much pressure, too much information to process. Feeling very overwhelmed more than ever. Your forehead dripping with cold sweat.
"I know you've already told me that the prophecy said I'll bring balance but how? what is my task exactly?" you asked, questions making your head spin.
"You're the strongest now, and to remain that way you mustn't die, it's all in your hands from now on, the Jujutsu Community depends on you for protection from the Ultimate danger"
"The ultimate danger?"
"You know our task as sorcerers to exorcise curses and protect the normals, those who can't defeat themselves"
"Yes?"
"Well the prophecy didn't only mention you, it mentioned also the danger we'll face, it is mentioned that an ancient and dark sorcerer will try to invade humanity with curse energy leading an evolution, a world full of sorcerers and curses"
"So the non sorcerers are at risk?"
"Exactly but also the sorcerers"
"Is it Sukuna that will carry this deed?"
"No! not Sukuna"
"Huh? isn't he an ancient dark–?"
"He is a special grade curse, but it's not Sukuna's plan to make the world full of sorcerers that want to exorcise him, Sukuna's goal is to be the ruler, gather followers and execute those who do not submit" explained Satoru
"Then who's this sorcerer?"
"We don't know! but all what we know that you'll be the first one to confront him" added Principal Yaga.
You gulped, being the first one; without experience on how to use your Jujutsu, and to meet one ancient strong sorcerer that has destructive plans is kinda crazy and it made your heart go crazy. What if you're not capable of defeating him? What if you disappoint the Jujutsu Community that has faith in you?
All of these questions burned your throat, but you can't ask them, you'd be seen as weak and scared and you definitely can't let them know that.
"Alright then" you simply said, then excused yourself and left the meeting room.
Gojo followed you, he can sense your discomfort.
You stood in the balcony, joined by your husband.
"It's not an easy task you've got" he started,
"Ugh thanks for reminding me again Satoru" you rolled your eyes at him.
"Come on Y/n! you'll get used to it" he whispered pulling you close to him by your waist, his big arms surrounding you in a protective way.
"I don't even know what my technique is Satoru"
"Oh but I do!"
"You do?"
"Yes, your technique was already foreseen, its a heritage from a very ancient sorcerer, the last sorcerer that had it was like 200 years ago. That sorcerer maintained balance in our world for years, emphasizing safety for both sorcerers and non-sorcerers, there's a reason you won against me during our fight, it blew my mind that you succeeded in laying a punch even though i had my infinity on. Your technique is copying others techniques just by touching them while it is activated. You can use their techniques against them"
"Wait what?? How do I know? And what if I'm fighting against curses ? how am I supposed to defeat them since not all curses have a technique, not all of them are special grade or first grade after all?"
"Good question, actually you have a strong burst of curse energy that could easily destroy curses, you just need to learn how to activate it"
"So I need a lot of practice huh? A long way to go? What if I'm not ready yet to face that sorcerer?"
"You don't need practice, you're a natural at it, you just need to try and believe in yourself, in your abilities, in your technique, that's how you're gonna summon it, you've got the spirit of the great old sorcerers in you, you're capable of everything Y/n just search inside of you... you're capable of things you don't know you're capable of"
His words were very comforting and motivating, you can feel your tense muscles relax slowly, nodding your head at his words.
"I believe in you y/n" he added, kissing your forehead.
You closed your eyes taking into the moment.
You can't deny that his words boosted your confidence and your ego, it's finally your time to shine.
"Embrace this new version of you Y/n!" he added kissing your temple.
"–I wanna meet Mei Mei" you said out of the blue.
"Huh? meet Mei Mei?"
"Yeah! I'm not allowed?" you raised your eyebrow.
"No not like that, you're allowed of course, it just was unexpected, I thought you didn't wanna see her face"
"You're right, but you said I have to embrace this new version of me so maybe it's time to speak my mind and confront others instead of hiding" you said confidently.
"Damn I love this mindset" he said with a smile.
"Oh but trust me you're next" you said teasingly.
"Wait what?" he said panicking.
"Come on Satoru, you know I'm not fully done with you"
"But I thought you forgave me" he said pouting.
"Oh I did but it's about time I forget, come on take me to Mei Mei"
You were serious though, you didn't forget what he'd done to you yet. It's true you love him with all of your heart, and he does too but you felt that ignoring him for a week wasn't a proper punishment.
......
Gojo took you to the prison where Mei Mei is staying. He unlocked the door stepping inside.
"Gojo? you came!" said Mei Mei but het smile dropped instantly right after she saw you take a step inside her cell.
Satoru stood by the door, while you moved closer towards her, you can tell by the look on her face that she felt something different coming from you, something intimidating, something strong, not the usual you.
"Y/n y–"
without saying anything you interrupted her with a slap across her face. You slapped her with all your might earning a gasp from her and from your husband, his eyes widened, he didn't see it coming.
Mei Mei looked at you in shock, and said in confusion,
"You slapped m—"
"Oh I did! I could've done more but I just chose not to"
"You—"
"Uh uh no no! I'll talk and you will listen Mei Mei, Im here to speak my mind, to say the things that I couldn't say before because I thought my words won't make any difference, and even if they don't now I really don't care because I'll speak any way"
You paused for a second, leaning towards her, your eyes piercing through her soul.
"I hope you're enjoying your time here in this cell, reflecting on what you had done and most importantly realizing that you deserve to be here. I hope you realize that all of us pay for what we do. Because sooner or later we won't escape the universe's justice. and I hope you realize that what you've done to me is terrible, I hope you feel the guilt every day and I hope it eats you up for trying to ruin what was already ruined life, for trying to kill me. You know something Mei Mei I allowed you to hurt me because I didn't know I can protect myself, I didn't know I was capable of stopping someone from harming me both physically and emotionally because I was weaker than all of you. But now I do and damn it feels great. You and Toji will both suffer. See all of what you do to others will come around to you and you can't hide from it so enjoy your stay here" You said,
and started walking towards Gojo who was leaning against the door frame proud of you happy that you finally realize your worth and potential.
You held his hand and then looked back at Mei Mei,
"Oh by the way Mei Mei, your attempts to tear us apart only drew us closer so thank you for that" you added,
then walked out hand in hand with Satoru making sure to lock the door.
"That was hot" exclaimed Gojo
"Oh you think so?"
" I know so"
He grabbed your chin making you look up at him,
"I know that you'll punish me anyway, you won't let it slip but I'm lucky that you didn't hate me I was worried really worried, you were so cold so distant as if I wasn't visible to you. So I'm going to accept any punishment from you as long as you don't hate me"
"you know I had to do it"
" I know I know I deserve to be treated like that, but I thought we had no hope I thought our marriage was over the moment I was hoping to fix things so I'm glad you gave me a chance to make it up for you to be a real husband so.you can punish me now but promise not to leave me cuz if you do then I'll drown again"
"You know something; we all make mistakes and wr are the ones who decide to fix them before it's too late or to ignore them but learn how to live with the consequence"
"You're right, I don't wanna live with the consequences, I wanna live happily with you Y/n"
You looked up at him, you can see the softness in his eyes and the way he speaks to you, you can't help but fall more and more deep for him.
"So please tell me that you won't leave me" he pleaded, a hint of worry visible in his tone.
He was feeling really overwhelmed, he knew you being the strongest now means you're at risk in every step you take, that you're targeted by many who want to haunt you down. He was worried that he might lose you, and besides he was afraid you might not be able to forget what happened in the past and end up hating him, even though you said you loved him. He was dealing with mixed feelings, trying to fix many things at the same time and trying to protect you but he knows the higher ups won't allow him to.
"Please-"
"I-" you started to speak but got interrupted by no other than Megumi,
"Oh Gojo finally!!!"
"Megumi?" you and your husband said at the same time.
"Oh Y/n sensei!"
"Is everything okay?" asked Gojo
"Nah it's far from being okay !! it's Yuji!!"
"What happened to Yuuji??" you asked worriedly as you walked towards Megumi
"Sukuna took over him, and we don't know where he is now"
"What do you mean Sukuna took over him?" questioned Gojo
"I was in my room sleeping then I heard a noise outsiders when I looked outside of the window I thought it was Yuji but when he looked back it was Sukuna, when I went down to stop him he was already gone"
"Shit shit shit" you said, "we need go and look for him...now"
"Baby—wait, you can wait in our room I'll go and look for him" said Gojo
"What do you mean Satoru! Yuuji is in danger and you expect me to hide in our room and do nothing to find him? I'm going with all of you, now!"
Megumi looked at Gojo as you started walking away,
"What's wrong? you look worried ?" said Megumi
"Yes Megumi yes, you know she's in danger and we don't know what to expect"
"You can't change fate Gojo! it's what the prophecy said, I'm sure Y/n will manage , you should be the first one to put your faith in her! besides she's got time till her curse breaks and she'll practice being a sorcerer"
"She's a sorcerer now"
"She's gonna be ok— wait what did you say?"
"Her curse broke tonight, she's announced a sorcerer by the higher ups"
"Oh"
"Mhm"
"I can understand your worry now, but she's gonna be fine! she's strong!"
"I know, come one let's go" said Gojo with a sigh...
.....
• Time skip •
A couple of hours are now separating you form the break of dawn, Gojo was trying not to leave your side the whole time you were searching for Yuuji, he was always keeping a protective eye on you, scanning your surroundings making sure no one around is trying to harm you.
All of you; students and teachers met up again in Jujutsu High, to find another plan.
You were in the school garden, sitting on the stairs waiting for the higher ups to call for an urgent meeting, your heart aching for Yuuji, he's the sweetest boy you've ever met and you were genuinely scared for him, all what you were thinking about was him, you were hoping to find him and save him from Sukuna's hands, Gojo was discussing things with Principal Yaga most likely about you and the students trying to figure out where he could possibly go.
....
"I see you're alone y/n. Stargazing as usual?" said a deep voice that made you stand up quickly from your seat.
"Ryomen Sukuna" you said and started walking towards him, "You better leave Yuuji alone" you threatened.
"Wait wait, it's true then, they weren't lying , I can feel it emitting from you" he said as he exhaled,
"What and who are you talking about? "
"Your curse energy, pretty strong, it's intoxicating"
"Yeah you were more than excited to fight me when I become a sorcerer, here I'm in front of you, I'll fight you so you better let go of Yuuji"
"Uh no, I know I said that, but I'm no longer interested in fighting you, someone else will"
But before you could ask him, you saw a group of people entering Jujutsu High, coming your way.
"Good luck beautiful, for now I'll watch through this brat's eyes" With those last words, sukuna switched back to Yuji,
"Sensei, sensei run!!!" said Yuuji
"Yuji-Kun are you okay?" you asked worriedly grabbing his forearm
"Yes I am, let's go we need to get inside and find Gojo sensei" he started pulling you away,
but you knew this time there's no running away, thia fight is yours. As much as it terrified you, you can't run away.
"Yuji calm down, go and find Satoru and the others...trust me" you reassured.
"Itadori Yuji, Sukuna's vessel, whats up with that look on your face? still grieving over Junpei?" said a long haired guy,
"Mahito" said Yuji through gritted teeth.
You looked between both of them, the sooner joined by your husband who rushed to tour side, still not aware of those who stood in front of you.
"Y/n, Yuji you're here!? are you okay? did Sukuna do something? where did you go?"
"He went to talk to these bastards" answered Yuji pointing at them,
The moment Gojo turned his head to look at them, his eyes widened, his heart dropping to his stomach, a shocked expression displayed on his face as if he saw a ghost,
"S-suguru geto?" he stuttered
"Geto?" you repeated
"Long time no see Satoru" spoke this so called Geto with a gentle voice,
You looked between both of them in confusion.
"Isn't he dead?" you asked out of the blue.
"That's not possible, I killed you" spoke Satoru, his eyes still fixated on the man in front of him.
Sooner you were joined by the other students, Nanami, Utahime and Principal Yaga.
All of them stopped in track the moment their eyes met Geto's eyes.
"Geto?" they said in union.
"I think it's an insult to call me Geto" he said, and walked forward his finger gripping a thin string, opening up those stitches on his forehead revealing his true self. "You can call me Kenjaku"
"Kenjaku?" said the others in union, eyes widening upon his reveal.
You were the only one confused,
"Who the hell is Kenjaku?"
"The ancient sorcerer, mentioned in the prophecy?" explained Nanami
"So I'm gonna fight him? fight a brain or what exactly?" you asked and pointed at him, genuinely confused.
"I see you brought all of them curses with you?" said Gojo
"You can say we work as a team Gojo Satoru, I hope you're not pressed that now you're no longer the strongest" exclaimed Mahito in an offensive tone trying to get in Gojo's nerves
"Is that guy a curse?" you asked Nanami,
"Yeah he is"
"He looks h-human"
"Deceiving right? I look human, but I'm not one, little one. Oh Nanami ready for another battle, I wasn't finished with you last time"
Nanami remained calm but you can see his veins popping out on his neck and temples. The presence of Mahito annoyed him to the core, he might be the most hatred curse out there, more than Sukuna himself. He's just an annoying bitch who likes to play games on others.
"We're here for only one reason, to kill Y/n so move and make it easier for all of us" said Kenjaku.
You can feel your heart jumping out of your throat, no one is able to save you now, you're the one to save you. The prophecy is now a reality and there's no escape from it. It's your fate, it's what you were born for, you existed this whole time just for this moment and you have no other choice but to win this fight and bring balance once again to this messed up community. But a surge of courage took over you, as if you weren't alone, feeling another kind of presence lingering around you.
"You can try and kill me..Kenjaku" you threatened and moved towards him.
And the battle started.
Gojo against Jogo, Nanami and Yuji against Mahito, Nobara and Megumi against Hanami, Inumaki, Panda and Maki against Dagon and You against Kenjaku.
Kenjaku summoned curses with a flick of his fingers, sending them swirling towards you like malevolent spirits hungry for your death. You moved with grace, your movements fluid as you deftly dodged the curses, each one hissing and snarling as it sought to tear you apart. Your moves were natural, a result of years of training in martial arts. You haven't used any curse energy yet. Not sure how to do it, how to summon your energy.
"Just search inside you" you remembered Gojo's word. .
With a deep breath, you tried to focus, looking in front of you as Kenjaku sent one of the curses running towards you, you were focusing, pressing your lips together as the curse was getting closer and closer, but you stood your ground, trying to trust yourself this time.
The moment the curse got right in front of you, inches away from your face, as if the time stopped and started moving slowly. The curse exploded. A burst of if energy left your body.
You successfully summoned that power and now you can feel it take over you, running through your veins. It felt great, you felt unstoppable, powerful and undefeated. You can now exorcise those curses.
With each burst of energy you felt yourself growing stronger, instead of feeling drained, you felt as if you were feeding of the death of those curses who's curse energies faded into the air.
.....
"Next" you said as you looked directly into Kenjaku's eyes, who was hesitant to summon another curse.
"You think you can win against me? I'm no ordinary foe. I have been living through centuries of dark knowledge"
"Then prove it, you're nothing without those curse that you summon" you challenged.
You did trigger him, you actually looked down on him, making him appear as weak. But he didn't know that it was part of your plan to offend him and make him try to fight you. He didn't know about your technique yet so he wasn't careful with his next move.
He ran towards you, trying to lay a punch on you, but it was easy for you to dodge it. In a moment of daring, you lunged forward, your hand reaching out to grasp Kenjaku's cloak. Your skin touched, and in an instant, you felt the surge of power as Kenjaku's own curses turned against him. You can feel yourself taking control, and you were able to manipulate the curses inside Kenjaku, making them respawn no matter how hard he tried to stop you.
The very creatures he had tamed now obeyed your command, their twisted forms holding him down as you stood there looking down at him.
Hanami, Jogo and Dagon were already dead but Mahito was still alive, playing dirty tricks on both Nanami and Yuuji.
But ince you overpowered Kenjaku, everyone stopped in tracks, waiting for you to finish him off and kill him.
You were about to do it, but stopped the moment you felt a presence lingering in the air. It was a warm presence, comforting one it was similar to the one you felt around Gojo, Nanami and your students.
"Maybe it's him" you whispered to yourself.
You looked up, your eyes meeting Gojo's sad eyes. By the look on his face you knew he wasn't ready to witness his bestfriend get killed again, even though it wasn't really his bestfriend but it was his body.
In that moment, you discovered something new in you. You closed your eyes hoping that what you're about to do actually works and don't make a fool of yourself instead. You started focusing, summoning spiritual forces that you didn't know existed within you.
"I know what you're trying to do, but in order to do so you need to sacrifice someone you know that right, if you're trying to kill me to bring Geto back then it's not possible, you'll destroy the body" said Kenjaku out of breath.
"They didn't lie when they said you're ancient, I can tell now.. I have to sacrifice yeah but not necessarily a physical one, I do things differently, it will be a soul, and it's yours" you said with a dirty smirk.
You shut your eyes tightly, tracing Geto's soul energy that was felt. Using a secret and unusual ritual you resurrected his lost soul.
You summoned Geto back, Kenjaku's presence was slowly fading into nothingness, Geto's soul taking over the body once again. Everyone watched his body on the ground, slowly twitching fighting to gain consciousness.
Your eyes shifted to Mahito, you started walking towards him, your eyes darkening as if you were possessed , empowered by ancient souls of old shamans. By your aura, now everyone can tell why you're the strongest.
Being arrogant his whole existence, Mahito actually thought he stood a chance against you after witnessing how you finished off one of the greatest sorcerers across the centuries. He attacked you, thinking he was fast, he out his hand on your shoulder but in a split second before he can actually think of his next move you did the same and placed your small hand on his chest;
"Idle transfiguration" those words left your mouth smoothly, and you watched how his body exploded under your soft touch.
Silence fell over the place, witnessing how you destroyed Mahito easily as if he was nothing.
"What the hell?" said a honey-like voice,
Everyone looked around and it was Geto standing, trying to understand what happened.
"Satoru?" he added softly,
"Suguru" said gojo and ran towards his bestfriend,
He hugged him tightly, unable to process that he's alive and standing right in front of him. Unable ti believe he was real. You brought geto, you brought his bestfriend back, your heart ached for the years full of pain and regret Gojo had to endure, for the nightmares that visited him every night. You smiled to yourself as you saw both of them hug each other hoping that the nightmares will finally leave him alone.
"Suguru, this is my wife, Y/n" said Gojo introducing you to his bestfriend,
But before you could react or say anything, you unexpectedly fell on your knees, the world around you spinning, you over used your curse energy for a beginner. Summoning Geto's soul back took a lot of effort but it was all worth it.
"YN!!!"
.......
You woke up in the hospital, you can feel every bone in your body hurt like a bitch. You looked around, many smiling faces were looking at you.
"SENSEI WELCOME BACK" yelled Yuuji happily.
"Shush Yuji you're so loud, she just woke up" said Megumi in an annoyed tone.
"Baby, are you feeling better?" said Gojo holding your hand, his thumb caressing your soft skin.
"Satoru! mhm I'm fine" you whispered tiredly,
Your head was pounding and you felt really sleepy.
"Ehm your family came to see you baby" he added,
"What?"
You looked at the other side and then you saw your family sitting there in the corner, hesitantly trying to start a conversation with you.
"Mom? Dad?" you said in confusion, not expecting to see then after all this time.
"Come one guys let's give them some privacy hm?" said Gojo pushing his students out.
"Satoru! can you stay please!" you spoke softly, not wanting to stay alone with them cuz you know it might be awkward and you felt too weak and needed your husband to support you.
The others left the room and now you were laying on bed, Gojo holding your hand and your family trying their best to find the right words.
"Yn, my dear we're glad you're okay" begun your mom.
"We were extremely worried about you, when we heard that you had a fight with Kenjaku we thought that you got hurt" added your dad.
"You grew stronger Y/n! we're ready proud of you" said one of your siblings.
You looked at them then at Gojo, you didn't know what to say, it was really awkward. Your family did hurt you the most, and you were expecting them to apologize not to casually show up at the hospital.
"I don't know what to say, I really don't" you spoke, trying not to cry.
"Yn!! we know we failed as parents, we didn't treat you fairly, we messed up and we didn't realize then that it affected you, you always seemed strong, silent.. you didn't show that you were hurting because of us, you seemed normal—"
"Just because I don't speak about it doesn't mean I'm not feeling it mom!"
"We're so sorry about that my sweet Yn. I wish we can make it up for you"
"How? by being present now? after abandoning and neglecting me for years? I know, you came to see me just because I became like you; a sorcerer not because I'm your daughter right?"
"No no baby no, you're our daughter, our sweet Yn! we confess our mistakes, we mistreated you, and you didn't deserve that, not even a bit. I wasn't a good mother, I should have asked you how you felt, I shouldn't take your silence as an answer"
"We failed you Yn and you have every right to cut us off your life. But just know that we love you, and we realized our mistakes really late. We thought that you were living your best life when you got married, we didn't know about the abduction we didn't know about your suffering..and it's our fault because we should've reached out" explained your father.
"We should've been there for you, but just know that sorcerer or not, we love you for who you are Yn" added your mom trying not to cry, but a tear betrayed her. They started walking towards the door,
"We'll let you rest, Gojo take good care of her" he said his voice cracking.
"Wait!" you said,
"I know you messed up, you did hurt me the most, you made me feel neglected, different, weak and pathetic. You were the reason I found comfort in isolation rather than with you. Now I don't know if you mean this apology or not but I don't wanna cut you off. Family remains family whether we love it or hate it. Maybe it's kinda late to try to fix things with me, since the damage is already here in me. But I do forgive you, you fed me and provided a shelter for me when I was a kid, and I can't forget about that" you added in a sad tone but deep inside you were happy to see them again and to hear them apologize.
"Oh baby" said your mom and hugged you, joined by your father and siblings.
Satoru watched with a smile, he felt bad for you. He was ashamed of what he did, he didn't know you felt that way, he didn't know you felt so alone. He didn't know you were neglected by your own family.
"Come on, Gojo" said your mom
"Yes son in law, join us in this family hug" added you dad pulling Gojo as well.
.....
Now you were alone with Gojo, your family is at Jujutsu High with the rest if the teachers and students preparing for a party that your husband had planned as a surprise.
*knock knock*
"Oh he's here! come in" said Satoru
The door was pushed open and it was Geto. You got into a sitting position.
"Hello" he said softly,
You smiled and nodded as he took a seat next to Gojo.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked,
"Yeah I'm fine thank you, what about you? how are you feeling?"
"Alive"
"Suguru wanted to see you and check up on you, he's a shy person tho, just like you.. I think you'll get along well" said Gojo jokingly,
"Thank you for- I don't know what to say, from bringing me to life again, even though I don't deserve it—"
"I think everyone deserves a second chance!" you reassured.
Geto smiled,
"Thank you, then I'll make sure to make the best out of this chance.. I won't fall into the trap of my old mistakes that got me killed" he giggled,
"What now you're gonna tease me for that?" said Gojo rolling his eyes,
"Nah Satoru, I know I deserved it, I was a jerk with that mindset and ideology"
"Oh I'm glad you realized that now"
You looked at both if them giggling at how they started bickering.
"Thank you Yn you're the reason I'm reunited with my best friend once again, thank you for giving us this chance to find each other again" said Geto truly grateful,
"Everyone deserves a best friend" you smiled,
"I thought you wanted to punish me, but you ended up bringing my best friend back, you always amaze me, I don't deserve you Yn, you're too kind for this world, even though a few hours ago you were completely ruthless with Mahito".
"That bitch totally deserved it" you exclaimed.
"Oh that attitude I fucking love it" said Satoru and pressed a kiss on your lips,
"Ahem, so I'll be in Jujutsu High" said Geto clearing his throat, feeling like a third wheel.
"Yeah we'll be there in an hour"
...
• Time Skip •
As you stepped into Jujutsu High, hand in hand with your husband Gojo, you blinked in surprise as you took in the sight before you; tables adorned with delicate flowers and twinkling lights. In front of you, stood your friends and family, gathered together to welcome you. But it wasn't just any celebration – it was a second wedding party.
Gojo got on one knee and looked up at you, you raised your eyebrows in confusion.
"S-satoru what are you doing?"
"Baby, we didn't get to celebrate our wedding properly. We both hated it at first, it was forced on us, we weren't happy back then, but now..now we are! With time we realized that getting married was the right thing to do, not for the prophecy no, but for ourselves, you summoned a buried part of me I didn't know it existed, a softness, a feeling I was carving for years but wasn't able to experience it, till you made it possible. I fell head over heels for you Y/n and I'll continue to love you till my last breath. Y/n will you marry me again?"
Tears welled in your eyes, it was too emotional. On one hand, you felt a surge of gratitude for the effort your family and friends had put into creating such a beautiful moment, a memory you would cherish forever. And on the other hand, your husband Gojo, you realized how much you love him, and that he's the one you'll be spending the rest if your life with, you complete each other, and you need each other.
"I do, and I'll never leave you" you said and at the same time you answered the question that he asked you yesterday but wasn't able to answer him because you got interrupted.
Everyone started clapping and cheering for you, as he spun you around and gave you as long passionate kiss, the sun glowing above you all.
You spent the rest of the day and night celebrating, chatting together, everyone got along, and you for real got along well with Suguru, you were joking together and making fun of Gojo, joined by Shojo who was the happiest, the smile never leaving her face. A smile that she missed for years. You brought their memories to life again and helped them to make new memories as well, memories they'll remember for a life time. Nanami, is now more open, no longer annoyed by Gojo but rather more grateful for the beautiful chaos around him, the chaos that used to annoy him, now all their laughter and loud voices are music to his ear, it made him feel less lonely, it made him realize that life is worth living if you're with the right ones. Your family were there as well, they were Yuji's victims, he couldn't stop talking to them on how amazing you are, and how you helped him as a teacher.
What a night, full of laughter, love and joy.
...
You looked at Gojo who was sleeping peacefully beside you, you kissed his cheek and then out on a jacket and walked outside. You wanted to watch the sunrise. You wanted to see the merging colors, the way the sun rays will take over the darkness and shine up the world announcing a new day ahead.
"Going somewhere?" asked Gojo in a sleepy voice , yawning.
"Nah just here waiting for the sunrise"
"Oh I thought you're escaping me" he said and circled his arms around you in a protective and firm way.
"Me escape you? come on don't be silly! I know you won't let me leave"
"Of course I won't! you belong here, you belong to me, to my arms, once you're locked here there's no escape"
You giggled, pressing a kiss on his neck.
"Wanna get a better view if the sunrise?" he added.
"Hm?"
Without answering you, he used his teleportation skills to get you up on that hill where he found you that night where both of you confessed and shared your first kiss.
"Damn I gotta get used to you teleporting me everywhere" you joked,
"We'll get a better view from here"
You laid your head on his chest, taking into the moment and started speaking softly,
"You know sunsets used to be my favorite, I used to prefer it over sunrise"
"Any specific reason?" he asked, wanting to know more on what's going inside that head of yours.
"I wanted my life to end, I wanted that for years, so I kinda related to the sunset. Convincing myself that endings can be beautiful too, just like the sunset, trying to romanticize death, make it less scary. At least if I didn't live beautifully then I can die beautifully. But now I can relate more to the sunrise, I no longer wanna die, not now at least, I wanna live- my life now feels like sunrise a new beg—"
"Beginning- a new beginning" said Gojo interrupting you "I understand that feeling very well"
"How?" you asked,
"You broke my curse too, you broke it by another curse, or at least what I used to believe was a curse"
"What curse?"
"Love Y/n! Love is the most twisted curse of them all...." he paused and looked at you and then added, "But even if it's a curse, I still wanna feel it, as long as it's with you. I'd let my soul burn so you can feel my warmth, you've made my life a heaven cuz you're the greatest blessing I've ever had in my life" he leaned down a kissed your forehead.
"Satoru—"
"It was meant for us, we were meant to be together. Both of us experienced different things but ended up feeling the same thing; loneliness. I was the most wanted, feared and respected even by my enemies, I was up too high but too lonely, in the contrary, you were looked down even by your own family and ended up isolating and feeling the loneliness for years. That proves that what you felt, what you had been through is not your fault, it was never your fault. We were on opposite ends of the spectrum but ended up dealing with the same. But when we found each other, everything changed, I felt alive, I felt that I have a purpose in life, a reason to wake up each morning and feel excited and thankful that I'm breathing.. You saved me Y/n! You saved me from myself, from my loneliness. You just made my black and white life, colorful, you put an end to my nightmares... I love you."
"I love you too Satoru" you said, a tear of happiness rolling down your cheek.
Both of you kissed, as the sun light glowed on the horizon, announcing a new day, a new beginning, a new intake of oxygen and a new chapter. .
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the-marshals-wife · 5 months
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Strangers Like Me (Orm Marius x Reader)
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─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─
A/N: I love Orm so, so much, and I've wanted to write for him since my major obsession with the first movie back in 2019. The sequel was everything I could have wanted for his character, and now that he's had the perfect open ending to his cinematic story, I finally let the inspiration run wild. This is the longest fic I've ever posted, and I'm proud to say he was the muse that inspired it.
Description: Orm Marius/Ocean Master x Fem!Reader (human), friends to lovers | Warnings: suggestive themes, steaminess at the end, cataclysmic levels of fluff throughout | Setting: after The Lost Kingdom | Word count: 5.8k
Gif credit: user acecroft
Imagine Orm opening up to you about who he truly is, and wanting to be part of your world
If someone had asked you a few months ago where you liked to be most, you wouldn't have said the boardwalk. Now, it'd become your favorite place in the world. Not for the noisy crowds, overpriced deep-fried foods, or vendors overflowing with cheap beachwear and souvenirs for the tourists. Those things you could have done without. That is, until you met Orm. Ever since that fateful day, everything around you had transformed into something new and exciting. Today was no different.
"I can't believe you've never had a corn dog before," you say.
Orm walks alongside you, well into his second serving. "And I can't believe something this abysmal in appearance can taste so good," he replies before taking another bite.
"Seriously, what have you been eating all this time?" you ask, wiping the mustard from the corner of your mouth with a napkin.
He swallows before answering, "Fish, mostly."
He was completely serious, as usual.
"You really love seafood, don't you?"
"Where I'm from, it's just called food," he counters.
Once again, you found yourself wanting to ask where exactly that place was. The last time you inquired yielded little insight. He gave a vague reply to the tune of "somewhere far away" and quickly changed the subject. For a while, you'd assumed he was originally European or something like that. Yet the more time went on, the more difficult it became to believe in that explanation. There must be a reason he did not want to talk about it, and you knew when he was ready, he would probably tell you. Still, you couldn't help but wonder where he had come from, and why he had not showed up sooner.
"So, what did you think of your first corn dog?" you ask instead.
"It was excellent. And I imagine it will not be my last," he says, tossing the stick into a trashcan as you walk by, "I still don't understand the name though, if it's not made of dog."
"Me either, honestly," you laugh as you toss your trash as well, "I'll have to look it up sometime."
"Speaking of, I listened to the singer you told me about."
"You did? What did you think?!" you exclaim, almost bumping into a passerby in your excitement.
"She is quite good, vocally. But I do think Ms. Parton would have more success exposing her rival publicly," he suggests.
"I know you're not talking about Jolene right now," you burst out laughing, covering your mouth.
"Indeed. This Jolene is a siren. She lures men with her wiles, and then goes unpunished because of her beauty," he explains wholeheartedly, holding his arms behind his back.
"Well that's the point of the song. Dolly is calling her out," you remind, "Plus what about her man? Shouldn't he get some of the blame? Falling for Jolene when he's already in a relationship? I mean come on, he's talking about her in his sleep. That's pretty low."
"Indeed, he misses the treasure that is right in front of him because he too has no honor," he expounds, his expression turning thoughtful, "You're right. Ultimately, they're deserving of each other."
"See! I told you," you chuckle victoriously.
Orm shakes his head, "I could not be tempted by such a woman."
"Oh, I don't know. You heard Dolly. Her beauty is 'beyond compare'."
"That is merely a facade," he dismisses, waving his hand, "Besides, I have seen far more beautiful than her."
You're about to inquire about his remark, but then you realize he's looking over at you. You can only hold his attentive gaze a moment before averting your eyes toward your feet, heart fluttering.
The previous moment still hanging heavy in the air, you walk together quietly for a minute before Orm stops in front of a beachwear vendor.
"Now that is amusing," he declares.
You backup a couple of steps to stand alongside him, "What is?"
He points to a pink tee shirt, the image of a mermaid riding on the back of a smiling dolphin printed on the front. "Dolphins are actually quite aggressive. They do not enjoy having riders on their backs. Sharks are much better mounts."
You stare at him, brow furrowed. "And how do you know that exactly?"
"I, uh, saw it on a television program," he stutters, "about taming sea life."
That was a lie if you'd ever heard one, and a strange one no less.
"Uh-huh," you reply unconvinced, walking away.
In silence, you resume your short walk to the end of the dock, Orm trailing close behind you. Once you reach the end, you lean over and rest your arms on the weathered wood railing, and he stands beside you. A few moments pass as you watch the waves crash upon the shore below and breathe in the salt air. It's not long before you feel his gaze on you once again.
He finally speaks, hesitation thick in his voice, "Something...on your mind?"
You smirk to yourself before looking over at him, "I'm just trying to figure you out."
"What do you mean?" he asks, concern visible in his bright eyes.
"I've never met anyone like you before. So much of what you say is a mystery," you remark.
"That is a fair point," he concedes, "I don't wish to vex you. There's just...so much that I don't know how to say."
You stand up straighter, smiling at him softly.
"I didn't mean it as a bad thing. Everyone has parts of themselves that they hide. Parts they don't want anyone else to see. There's nothing wrong with that," you reply, turning towards the ocean, "You don't like talking about your past, and I respect that. I just don't want you to think you have to hide. It's awful feeling like you don't belong, just for being yourself. I wouldn't want that for you."
"That is kind of you to say. Truly." He mirrors your posture on the railing, moving closer to you as a result. "You don't make me want to hide, Y/N. Quite the opposite, actually. I've learned so many things from you these past few weeks, and I have greatly enjoyed your company."
You look back to him, your heart skipping, "So have I."
His gaze softens. "I've also never met anyone like you before. You find joy and purpose in even the smallest of things. It inspires me how gracefully you view the world. And I've known no one whom I've wanted to share it with more."
Everything else around you melted away as you find yourself becoming just as lost in his eyes as you've been in his words.
Before either of you can move an inch closer, the chime of your cellphone cuts through the thick air between you.
Cursing inwardly, you shoot upright, embarrassed, and retrieve it from your pocket. It's an all-caps text from your sister with many exclamation marks, quickly followed by another. The sister you just now realized you forgot needed picked up.
"Oh no. I have to go," you say, frenzied, "My sister's waiting for me. I have to drive her home from her class, I completely forgot!"
"I understand," he nods, touching your arm assuringly, "Do you want me to accompany you back to the lot?"
"I really appreciate it, but I literally have to run. I'm so sorry, Orm," you say, turning to leave.
You make it only a few steps before you hear him call out.
"Y/N!"
Despite the urgency of your escape, you can't help but turn on your heel expectantly.
"Would you meet me tomorrow? Down on the beach, beneath the pier around sunset?"
A grin spreads across your face. "I'll be there!"
It took everything in you not to grin like an idiot the entire drive to pick up your less-than-amused sister. You weren't ready for the brutal interrogation that would surely come if she saw the look you knew was on your face. After apologizing to her profusely and letting her chew you out, as was her sisterly right, her suspicions were already raised.
"You've never looked this happy for me to yell at you," she said, glaring at you.
"I'm just really enjoying my book! I started the sequel I told you about," you defended, flashing a smile even you knew was pretty fake.
"Enough to forget all about me," she rolled her eyes and punched your arm, "You're not telling me something, I know it."
"I'm dying to know if she's really the lost heir to the throne, I heard the reveal is like halfway through," you add, ignoring her last words.
"Mhm," she grumbled, "Fine don't tell me. I'll figure it out, just wait. You can't hide from me."
"The only thing I need to hide from you is my chocolate bars," you argue in a desperate attempt to throw her off the subject.
"I'll find those too," she snickered confidently.
You laughed it off and went back to biting down hard on your lip. It was the only thing you could do not to spill everything to her as she continued to give you the side-eye. Your body was at the steering wheel, but your mind, and your heart, were back on that boardwalk. The final glare she gave you in her driveway was unmissable, but for now, you'd evaded being found out as you made a getaway back to your own apartment.
That night you'd hardly slept, the moment at the end of the dock replaying in your mind over and over well into the morning. Work only made it worse, the monotony making the perfect backdrop to picture what the coming evening would bring. When your shift ended, you couldn't get out of there fast enough to go home and change.
Now, with sunset fast approaching, you were circling the parking lot trying to find a space, and close to bribing someone to move, when a spot finally opened up.
"Someone loves me," you exhale, hurriedly locking your car as you throw your bag over your shoulder.
The words linger in your thoughts. You can't help but blush at the notion, given your current destination, and who was waiting there.
In some ways it seemed like a lifetime since you met Orm, and in others it felt like only yesterday. The memory of that fateful day comes to the front of your thoughts as you start the long trek to the path that cuts through the dunes.
Unlike your fib from last night, you'd actually been desperate to finish the book your coworker had been pestering you about all summer. With only four chapters left, you'd escaped to the boardwalk one sunny Tuesday afternoon, hoping to find a bench, a fresh lemonade, and far less crowds than the weekend so that you could finally finish in peace.
Just as you'd sucked up the last drop of your drink and reached the last handful of pages, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. On a bench across the way from you, you saw a man trying to untangle the most knotted pair of earbuds you'd ever seen in your life. You watched him from behind the top of your book, and suppressed a giggle as he became more animated in frustration. He ran a hand through his blond hair and seemed near to giving up on the whole endeavor. Unable to watch him struggle any longer, you tucked your book beneath your arm, tossed your empty cup in the trash, and started to walk over.
"He did this on purpose," he muttered as you approached.
"I can take a crack at them, if you'd like."
In his fierce concentration, he hadn't noticed you approach. He jumped a bit at your greeting, and squinted up at you, confused.
"Hi. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Would you like some help with those?" you smiled hesitantly, "I just, I couldn't help but notice you were having a hard time with them."
"Well, you are welcome to try," he invited with a sigh, extending them to you, "Although I have seen seaweed less entangled than this."
You took them and sat down beside him, analyzing the knots.
"Earbuds are pretty notorious for getting tangled," you began, pausing to focus a moment, "These, however, look like a sailor used them to practice tying his knots."
"Courtesy of my brother," he said with no small amount of exasperation, "He delights in making things difficult for me."
"As brothers are wont to do."
"Indeed," he conceded.
Untying your own numerous pairs of earbuds over the years had more than prepared you for this moment. You'd made quick work of separating the right and left buds, down to the last few kinks in each.
"You're quite skilled at this," he observed.
"I should probably put it on my resume, huh?" you chuckled as you conquered the final knot.
"I think you might consider it," he laughed as well.
At last, all the tangles were gone.
"There you go," you declared, handing them back, "Good as new."
"Impressive," he remarked, marveling at your handiwork before looking back at you, "Thank you for your assistance."
"You're welcome," you smiled and pointed to the iPod in his lap, "What do you like to listen to, if you don't mind me asking?"
He hesitated, picking it up, "I'm...not actually sure how this device works. Are you familiar with the technology?"
"An iPod?" you laugh, "Yeah, I had one in high school. It's been a while and it wasn't this exact model, but they're all pretty much the same. MP3 players, that is. I had so many songs on mine, I couldn't add any more. Never went anywhere without it. I had to tape it together in senior year because I used it so much."
"Perhaps you could show me how to properly operate it?" he posed, turning towards you more, "My brother sent it to me. He said it contains music inside that I must hear, but I'm at a loss on knowing how to make it play."
You gazed at him bewildered a moment, caught off guard. Never had you met anyone who didn't know how to work an iPod before. But then again, you reminded yourself, not everyone had a chance to own one.
"Sure," you grinned, "I can show you. There's not too much to it, really, once you know the basics."
"Thank you," he replied sincerely, "It's not often that I've met a lady with such kindness, and lightness of fingers."
Heat immediately rushed to your cheeks at his gracious works, and suddenly it was difficult to hold the gaze of his rich blue eyes.
"It's no problem at all," you replied, offering your hand, "I'm Y/N, by the way. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Orm Marius, and the pleasure is mine."
Before you could blink, he'd taken your hand, and instead of shaking it, he kissed your knuckles. If he had lingered, perhaps it would have alarmed you. But he did it so quickly, it was like it was second-nature to him. Practiced or not, your head spun nonetheless, and launching into an urgent, flustered spiel about how to power on the iPod was all you could do to keep yourself held together.
You spent the next half an hour showing him everything from the buttons to the way to change the background image on the menus. Before long, you were talking about all of your favorite songs and artists, simultaneously making lists for each that he would have to listen to. Orm listened eagerly to your recommendations, and soon the conversation turned to any and every subject, from foods to places to dreams. You still remember the feeling of the rest of the world fading away as you talked to him, afternoon turning to evening. And the thrill you felt when he asked if he could see you again.
In the almost four months since, every meeting followed much in the same manner as that first day, with introducing Orm to the many things he'd never experienced before, and hours of conversation on the pier or walking along the beach. You'd stolen away to this area as many times as possible to see him, well over a dozen now. Of course your sister was more suspicious than ever after yesterday, but you still weren't ready to reveal where you'd been spending so many evenings, and who you'd spent them with. There was something exhilarating about you and Orm meeting secretly, and you wanted that feeling to last as long as possible.
He had such wonder about the world, like someone who'd not been in it very long. It was one of his oddest qualities, but his curiosity was endearing to you. Despite knowing so little about his past, you'd come to trust him like few others in your life. Whoever he'd been before, and wherever he was from, it seemed he had no intention on going back. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't want him to. There were so many places you wanted to take him further inland, yet he was still hesitant to go far from from the ocean. You'd never gone beyond a couple of blocks from the boardwalk together, but tonight, with the energy of yesterday's encounter fresh in your mind, you'd planned to breech the topic with him.
Now, the sun is sinking lower in the pale orange sky and your pulse quickens with the threat of being late. With all your reminiscing and daydreaming, you'd lost track of the time. You nearly run across the wooden walkway over the dunes and down the broad stairs. As soon as your feet hit the sand, you remove your sandals. Grasping them in one hand and the strap of your bookbag in the other, you take off into the best sprint you can manage. The pier is still a good distance up the beach, and you want to curse out whoever built the access so far away. You run at an angle towards the water, the wetter ground giving you better traction than the loose sand.
Just within the shadow of the great structure, you finally see Orm up ahead, his back turned. Out of breath, you slow your pace and try to catch some of it back before you reach him. Once he's within ear shot you call out to him.
"I'm sorry I left in such a hurry yesterday," you pant.
He spins on his heel. Relief is written all over his face.
"You came. I was afraid you might not," he sighs, walking up to meet you.
"Of course," you exhale, dropping your shoes and brushing away the hair clinging to your forehead, "Why wouldn't I?"
His expression indicates he had not thought of an answer to that question.
"I don't know," he hesitates, "I didn't mean anything by that. I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't. I did ask you at the last minute."
You can't help but chuckle as he stumbles regretfully all over his words.
"I brought you something," you declare to change the subject, much to his gratitude.
"A gift? For me?"
You can tell by his tone that he is actually baffled. Reaching into your satchel, you retrieve the item. In your outstretched palm, you hold a small snow globe, a miniature skyline of New York City contained inside.
His confused expression leads you to elaborate. "It's called a snow globe," you say, turning it upside down so that the little flakes inside swirl around, "You told me once that you never get to see snow where you're from. Now you can see it whenever you want."
He tentatively takes it, entranced by the miniature flurry.
"That's where I'm from. Well, I grew up there. We moved here when I was sixteen," you add, chuckling, "It's a little bit nicer in person."
Orm looks up at you, visibly touched by the gesture, "It's wonderful. Thank you."
"You're welcome," you smile, "I, hope that I can show you the real thing some day."
"I would like that," he replies with the smallest hint of sadness, pausing to behold it again, "I will treasure this always."
You'd never met anyone who talked like he did. Everything word he spoke was with full conviction. Others might sound pompous or conceited speaking the way he does, but when he said something, you believed he truly meant it.
"I'm glad you like it," you say, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"I do, very much," he says, frowning a bit, "I'm only sorry that I have nothing to give you in return."
"That's alright," you dismiss.
"Will you keep it safe for me while we are by the water? I regret that I have no pockets large enough to carry it."
"Absolutely," you say, putting it securely back inside your bag, "I know that feeling all too well."
When you finish with the zipper and lift your head up, you see Orm offering his arm to you. Surprised, and twice as excited, you take it.
As you cross beneath the pier and set off down the beach together, you suppress the urge to glance up at him. You agonize over what to say next, hoping he would speak first. When he did, it only made your heart beat faster.
"Actually, when I said I had nothing to give you, that was not entirely true," he said, clearing his throat before going on, "As much as I enjoy your educating me in foods and traditions I've never tried, I was hoping this evening we might enjoy a treat of a different kind."
Just up ahead, something on the shore comes into view. Your mind races in anticipation, and moments later, you come upon a blue blanket spread out neatly across the sand. A single white rose lies in the middle.
"Oh Orm," you breathe.
"It's not much, but I thought you would like to watch the sunset with at least some level of comfort," he says, a veil of nervousness in his voice.
"It's perfect," you exclaim.
He releases your arm and picks up the rose, presenting it to you.
"For you."
You feel nearly breathless once more as you take the flower and inhale its sweet fragrance.
"It's beautiful," you sigh, "Thank you."
He smiles timidly at your approval. "Shall we?"
"This is amazing," you say, removing your bag and carefully sitting down on the soft blanket.
He follows suit, and you gently place the rose in your lap as he comes to rest close beside you. The glow of the setting sun warms your skin, but it's nothing compared to the warmth in your chest.
You'd never seen him act like this before. He was normally so calm and collected, but now he was almost pure nerves. You work up the courage to glance over at him. He's staring hard ahead, clenching his jaw and rolling a seashell between his fingers. It's slowly becoming clear that you're not the only one who wanted to say something this evening. Normally, you found the rolling of the waves to be one of most soothing sounds in the world. But at this moment, they were far too loud.
You decide you have to break the excruciating silence.
"I've only watched a true beach sunset alone before."
Your voice brings him out from his trance. "I've also been by myself. I'm glad I have someone to share the splendor with."
"Me too."
He smiles weakly, and fixes his stare back on the horizon.
To your disappointment, the silence returns. Before long, everything is bathed in golden light. The sky transforms into rich oranges and reds before your eyes. The beach is surprisingly deserted apart from the seagulls and sand pipers, making it seem all the more that this moment was tailor-made just for the two of you.
Just when you're about to speak again, Orm at last turns towards you.
"I wish I could show you my world, Y/N. It is a realm of beauty, and strength, and light. You belong in such a place."
You feel your cheeks flush as he continues.
"Where I'm from, you can't see the stars at night. But there is a place with magnificent, glowing lights. A cave, filled with luminescence of every color you can imagine. You would absolutely love it."
"That sounds magical." You hang on his every word as you try to picture it.
"My mother used to take me there when I was a boy. I remember my whole hand disappearing inside hers." He smiled at the memory, but it faded as he spoke once more, "We used to go there seeking solace from my father."
Frowning, he throws the seashell towards the water. The sun begins to dissolve into the ocean, but neither of you take notice.
"Did you not get along?" you ask, hoping it was not too personal to do so.
His gaze falls downward again. "That's one way of putting it. Growing up in his shadow was- challenging. He was severe about many things, and against all of the rest. He expected me to become just like him. Demanded it, more like. Yet he was never up to the task of teaching me how. I wanted nothing more than to please him, but as I look back on it now, I'm not sure that I ever did. I was never worthy enough to be his son."
His words make your chest ache. You reach to gently touch his hand on the blanket.
"You are not an unworthy son," you assert, your feelings coming to the surface, "He was an unworthy father. I don't need to have met him to know that. Because I know you, and you are a good man. The most thoughtful, polite, decent man I've ever met."
He stares at you, emotion all over his face. A wistful look shines in his eyes.
"If only I had known you then," he reflects, "Perhaps I would not have gotten so lost in the tides of his storm."
"I wish I had known you too," you agree, more shyly than you'd expected, "But wouldn't have needed me. You already survived it, all on your own. You're stronger than he ever was."
His expression steels.
"Y/N, there is something I must tell you," he says, his tone turning grave, "It will not be easy for you to hear it, but I can't go on without you knowing what I am. I cannot hide it any longer. You deserve to know the truth."
Your heart starts to race quicker than your thoughts at his startling declaration. "What do you mean?"
Without warning, he casts off his jacket and stands up.
"Orm, what are you talking about?"
"Perhaps, it would be better if I showed you," he says, reaching out his hand to you, "I want you to understand. No more secrets."
For just a moment, you look up into his pleading eyes. Then, as if it had even been a choice, you carefully set the rose aside and take his hand. He helps you to your feet and leads you down past the water's edge. The cool water on your feet sends a shiver up your spine. The foam is lapping at your ankles when he stops just in front of you.
"You see that marker?" he points ahead.
The breeze whips your hair into your sight as you fight to push it away. You have to squint to see the outline of the buoy, the red light on top twinkling faintly in the twilight.
"Yes," you hesitate.
"Keep your eye on it," he directs calmly.
With that one instruction, he retreats further into the water, stopping until it is well above his waist. You cross your arms against the chill of sea spray and wait worriedly. He looks up and down the beach, as if to make sure no one is watching. You are still alone. Before you can call out to him, he dives headlong into the waves.
What follows you can only describe as a thunder beneath the water. It looks as if a missile has been launched from where Orm stood, careening toward the marker. Mere seconds later, a blast like a whale spout shoots above the horizon, and the buoy rocks violently as it is landed upon by the figure that flew up out of the sea.
A gasp escapes from your agape mouth as you witness the silhouette wave at you, and proceed to dive back into the blue.
Three pounding heartbeats later, Orm immerges from the surf and walks toward you, slicking back his dripping hair. His tee shirt clings to his muscular form, and his soaked jeans don't seem to encumber him at all. You're frozen in the sand, staring at him with only one word on your parted lips.
"How..."
"There's no simple way to say it, but you must know. I am from the Kingdom of Atlantis," he confesses, struggling to hold your stare, "I am Prince Orm Marius, son of Queen Atlanna. Although I was once ruler, I made many mistakes during my time on the throne for which I was banished. My penance is served by my exile here on the surface. I deserve my fate, and I gladly uphold it, but it is not something I wanted to keep from you any longer. I'm sorry that I was not honest with you sooner, but I didn't think that I could trust any surface-dweller with my secret. I was...proven wrong."
"You're a real Atlantean?" you manage to get out.
"I am," he nods, apprehension still in his voice, "I was raised to hate the surface and its inhabitants, but much has changed. You, Y/N, have had no small part in that."
Despite your reeling head, it's slowly becoming clear what Orm is saying by this grand unveiling of his true identity. As you struggle to process it, however, your silence compels him to go on.
"If all of this is too much, I understand. It is my burden to bear, and you did not ask to be part of it."
"I-It's not that," you stammer as the shock starts to wear off. You step closer to him. "Not at all. It's just a lot to take in. I need a minute, that's all. I promise."
Hope lights up his eyes.
"Absolutely," he agrees eagerly, "I apologize, I know this reveal was sudden. Please ask any questions that you have. I will withhold nothing from you."
As you finally begin look at him instead of through him, only one question lodged in your throat.
"Why?" you ask through threatening tears, "Why did you tell me all this?"
You knew why, because it was the same reason you wanted to tell him all of your own secrets. The same reason you came back to this beach over and over. The same reason your heart skipped every time you saw his handsome face, and heard him speak your name. You just wanted to hear him say it. For any of this to work, you needed to hear it.
His anxious gaze softens as he weighs his answer.
"I meant every word of what I told you yesterday. When I'm with you, I see a future that I never thought I would deserve. You make me feel like I can be more than I've ever been. And for the first time in my life, I have felt true happiness," he says, finding the words along with his conviction, "I never thought I would belong anywhere but Atlantis, but now, I want to know more about this world and its many gifts. And most of all, I want you to be by my side to show it to me."
"I want that too," you respond, tears threatening.
He gently takes your hand in his. "Even after all that I've done, part of me hoped that I might find some kind of redemption here on the surface. I wasn't sure how, and then I met you," he says tearfully, searching your eyes, "Y/N, you gave me that hope. Your goodness, your charity, your beauty. This realm has much to offer, more than I ever dreamed, but you are what I love most about the surface. From that very first day we spoke, I knew that you were what I was meant to find here."
Your vision blurs as he reaches to gently stroke your cheek.
"All of that to say...I've fallen in love with you, Y/N."
A sob escapes your throat as you look into his eyes and see it.
"I fell for you too. From the first day," you nod, finding your own confidence, "Being Atlantean doesn't change that. I don't care about who you've been or what you've done. I want to be with you. I love you too, Orm."
His composure crumbles along with yours as you embrace. The distance between you vanishes as your lips meet in a desperate kiss. You rest your hands on his chest and melt into his touch. He sighs and deepens the kiss, pulling you close against him. You feel the coolness of this still-dripping clothes soak through to your skin as you become lost in the taste of salt and longing. When you're forced to come up for air, you're both beaming.
"I've wanted to do that for so long," he smiles, caressing your face.
"Me too," you giggle, lacing your arms around his neck, "What did you think of your first surface-dweller kiss?"
"Not too bad. I think I'll have to try it again before I decide if I really like it," he smirks.
"Well, if you get me out of this frigid water, I'll see what I can do about that," you tease back.
"Now that I can do," he announces.
You shriek in surprise as he swiftly lifts you from the water and into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all. He chuckles in amusement and carries you bridal style back toward the shore.
"Orm!" you protest, in an obviously half-hearted fashion.
"I have to admit, concealing my Atlantean strength has been considerably more difficult than I anticipated," he reveals, wincing a bit, "I intended to bring a bottle of wine tonight as well, but- the glass here is far weaker than what I'm accustomed to."
You laugh. "Well, it's the thought that counts."
"I'm glad you think so. Because I thought since I'm responsible for us missing the best part of the sunset, that perhaps we could lie under the stars instead?" he suggests, setting you down gently on your feet upon the blanket.
"I would love to," you say, looking up at him, "But aren't you freezing in those clothes?"
"I'm used to it," he shrugs, "I don't think I feel the cold the same as you."
"In that case," you say, pulling him closer into a tender kiss, "What do you think about that?"
He grins.
"It was perfect, and I'm certain it will not be my last."
You no longer feel the chill as you cling to him, and he rests his forehead to yours. It didn't matter where the tides of life would take you next. As long as Orm was there to hold you in the waves, you would always be in your favorite place.
190 notes · View notes
byfulcrums · 5 months
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Fuck it. Invincible Tumblr
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Wake up to see the aliens attacking again. God fucking damn it.
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
Imagine how the aliens feel after seeing you
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Get better insults. You won't be insulting anyone that way
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
Nahhh. Don't need to. You already humiliate yourself every time you open your mouth
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Your entire existence is an insult
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☪️ superherofan Follow
i forget that superheroes have social media and regularly use it.... invincible has Tumblr holy shit
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Boo.
☪️ superherofan Follow
OMG??
#HI MR INVINCIBLE SIR #I SWEAR ALL MY A/B/O FICS WERE WRITTEN OUT OF LOVE
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🌙 artemislover Follow
Can't believe I have to say this, but can you guys please stop making Omni-Man x Immortal theories?!?!
Ik you think the idea of them having been romantically involved is funny, but c'mon, people
It is true that there should be more openly queer superheroes, but the fact that there are people who genuinely believe they fucked is wild...
Besides, we have to stop following the lives of superheroes that closely. They deserve to get some privacy too! They're still people
Also, didn't Omni-Man once mention his wife?? And son?? Shipping him w a man when he's clearly straight and in an established relationship is stupid
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
These are all great points but they've definitely fucked
🌙 artemislover Follow
INVINCIBLE?????
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Godddddd. My parents just do not know what privacy is, PLEASE STOP HAVING SEX WHEN I MIGHT BE HOME... please you're killing me
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Wait, shit, wrong blog...
🌭 hotdog Follow
shocking revelation: invincible has parents
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
??? Of course I have parents. Where'd you think I came from?
🌭 hotdog Follow
Honestly i thought you were from mars
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
from MARS????
#i'm not martian??? i don't even look martian #do i look martian?
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💃 thedancingquinn Follow
ATOM EVE LIKES MY FAVORITE BAND????
🚫 ohgodpleaseno Follow
really? How do you know?
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
Okay quick storytime
My friends and I wanted to go to see this band live for a LONG time, so we saved up money for years until we could finally afford it, right?
Well, the day we finally get to see them live, I look up and I see Atom Eve, just. Flying there. Above the crowd
She was singing, apparently very loudly and she looked like she was having sm fun. She saw me and waved!!! Atom Eve!!!! Waved at me!!!!!!!
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
:)
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
WAIT R YOU THE ACTUAL ATOM EVE
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
Yeah. Check my Insta, there's a link to this blog!
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
AFKFHFHFHFJDJDJDJDDJDHFHSUEUEJEJ
#ATOM EVE TALKED TO ME!!!!!!
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🤖 officialrobot Follow
Today, Monster Girl told me to download this app and create a blog — I did not think it was necessary, but she insisted.
I decided to listen to her. She was very persuasive.
I will be sharing things about my day, as she has told me to do. Expect to hear from me after this.
👀 eyaseyaseays Follow
you really think we're gonna believe you're the real Robot?? C'mon.
‼️ notafurryyet Follow
Dude, RP exists. Let people live their lives in peace
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
This is so funny
‼️ notafurryyet Follow
That's... The real monster girl. Replying to a fake Robot post...
Dude I think he's real
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🎉 partyshitter Follow
The new Guardians are a fucking shit show. Are we seriously meant to believe they're going to protect us? Really??
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Oh Id like to see YOU almost get killed every single fucking day without one fucking break only for asholes like you to shit on us like that. We almost die every single day!!! Were the ones geting our hands dirty not you
🤖 officialrobot Follow
I'd* assholes* We're*
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Your supposed to be with me in this one
🤖 officialrobot Follow
You're*
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☪️ somanykates Follow
The Immortal kinda... 👀
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
WHAT
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💥 explosionsbaby Follow
I cant believe she cheated on me... what a bitch
🧬 atomevesss Follow
😐
☪️ somanykates Follow
We're going to have a fucking talk, Rex.
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Shit
🍐 shrinkshrek Follow
You had this one coming buddy
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
The fact that Miles Morales canonically reads JJK, though...
🔫 shootmeplease Follow
INVINCIBLE LIKES MARVEL?? AND JJK???
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Why is everyone always surprised when I like something? I don't get it
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
:(
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
I cannot have just found out you're still alive through Tumblr...
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
Seriously though. Are you okay now? I know you're not mentally, after the whole Chicago thing w your dad, but at least physically?
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
I'll survive, I guess
💔 thisishowtobeah Follow
INVINCIBLE?? It is such a relief to see you're still here after the whole Chicago ordeal Mr Invincible
📸 definitelyinsanebaby Follow
Yeah maybe don't remind him of that rn??
💔 thisishowtobeah Follow
OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY
#I AM SO SO SO SORRY #omg i hope you're doing good mr invincible :(((
146 notes · View notes
always-andromeda · 7 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨ 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ୧⋆。˚ ⋆
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Frankie Morales x F!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 3,038
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ After recruiting you to be his plus one for yet another wedding, Frankie can't help but ruminate on and regret the last one he brought you to.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hey, Lolabee!! I'm super excited to finally share that I'm your secret Valentine!! I apologize in advance for posting this so late in the game; exam week has been super hectic. That being said, I decided to give myself a little bit of a challenge and write something for Frankie for the first time ever. I should preface this by saying that when I read your prompt for rom-com vibes, I immediately began filing through all of my favorite rom-coms. And since my current favorite is Plus One, this fic is very much inspired by it!! Happy late Valentine's Day!! (dt: @thelightsandtheroses) (divider credits: @cafekitsune)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ fluff with little bits of angst (regardless, minors, please do not interact), no physical description given to the reader except for the fact that she wears makeup, mentions of alcohol and references to the reader drinking, the slightest references to Frankie's past, this fic is almost entirely removed from the movie's canon (these characters are basically my paper dolls that I'm making do cute things<3), idiots in love, they tease each other, they go to a wedding, misunderstandings occur, but it all works out <3
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“You’re bringing your own tissues this time, right?” Frankie called from where he sat at the edge of the bed. He’d slept in far worse places. But he could already feel new knots forming on top of the old ones in his back. Needless to say, he wasn’t looking forward to spending yet another night attempting to sleep on the dense hotel room mattress.
You replied from the bathroom, “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. I’m prepared.”
“You better be. Because you’re not using my tie to blow your nose again.”
If you were in the room, Frankie could’ve practically felt your glare burning a hole through him. But instead he only heard the clear exasperation in your tone when you answered, “I did not use your tie to blow my nose.”
“Might as well have…” he mumbled. Santi’s wedding had claimed that casualty. By the end of the ceremony you’d soaked his tie in tears and covered it with a fine layer of translucent powder from dabbing your face off. And as much as he teased, he hadn’t minded it. He hadn’t minded it any more than he’d minded the distant friends and relatives who’d assumed that you were his girlfriend. Which…wasn’t an insulting assumption by any means.
The next time – at Benny’s wedding – Frankie brought you tissues. He didn’t like to think about Benny’s wedding. But if there was one thing he was happy about, it was that he’d thought far enough ahead to bring them for you. He was glad to see your smile. To feel your arms wrap around him as you thanked him and told him he was such a sweetheart. He was also grateful for the Hawaiian sun; for the developing sunburn that had prevented you from seeing how much that one nickname made his cheeks flush in that moment.
Your head popped out of the bathroom doorway, your makeup only half done, to aim a smartass smile at him with your lined lips. “Hey, I like to think of it as a gift. You should too.”
“Your ability to cry at the drop of a hat?”
“You're damn right,” you said indignantly.
Frankie sighed, pushing his hair back for about the dozenth time. He then laid back on the bed and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “If we’re lucky, this is the first and last time you’ll need to worry about packing some to begin with. Will’s the last stop on the wedding train.”
The thought almost made him misty eyed. Within a few hours, he’d be the last single man in his crew. The last one awake at the sleepover. Eyes so wide they were practically ablaze staring through the uncertainty of night. Unable to find sleep. Unable to believe he’d ever find it to begin with.
Your voice cut through his trance. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe next year we’ll get an invite for Tom’s second wedding,” you teased. 
Frankie rolled his eyes. At least he could take some sort of comfort in that. Redfly had tried out the whole settling down thing. And it just didn’t work. Frankie wished his buddies well, but he couldn’t help but feel deep down that they’d never be made for domesticity. They weren’t made for teary-eyed speeches and destination weddings. 
“Don’t count on it,” he drawled.
“Don’t count on it,” you mimicked Frankie’s slow, gruff voice which earned a small laugh from him. “I’ll tell you what, I bet you that Ben’s best man speech isn’t going to be nearly as good as Will’s was.”
He attempted to recall what Will had even said only a few months prior. It had to have been good, the man was a public speaker, for Christ’s sake. He guessed, “That one was long, right?”
“Yeah…don’t you remember it? Frankie, were you even there?”
“I was there alright.” He laughed to mask the wince he wanted to let out. Then he cleared his throat, throwing out another vague guess, “But I seem to remember that by the end of it, he needed some damn tissues too.”
“If you had a shithead little brother who managed to get married before he could experience massive head trauma, you’d probably get a little choked up too.” You added more to yourself than to him, “God, Frankie, how do you forget a speech like that? It was fucking beautiful.”
There was a very high likelihood that he had forgotten. Frankie spent almost every day following that entire night trying to forget it. And he wondered how in the world you remembered it either considering how much you’d drank.
If you could remember what Will had said…you should’ve remembered what you’d said too, right? You, standing in the bathroom and observing yourself in the mirror as you combed through your lashes to separate them, had to have known what you said to him that night. Because he knew it. Whether he liked it or not, he had that particular speech memorized with the way it ran through his head.
Frankie had known you were in a tough spot. Hell, it was part of the reason why he’d brought you along; part of the reason why Benny had insisted Frankie take you. 
She just got broken up with, Frankie had tried to reason.
Benny had merely smirked, Which is the exact reason why you should invite her out. Give her a chance to get fucked up. Spend the night with one of the bachelors. It’s the quintessential wedding experience.
Frankie couldn’t have even pretended to mask his disgust at the idea. But he couldn’t lie…bringing you along again sounded leagues above going alone. 
And now, sometimes he wished he had toughed it out instead.
No matter how much he tried to forget, the details always flashed through his mind. The way your fingers ran through his hair. How your touch managed to stay so soft despite how completely out of it you were. But that’s how you’d always been with him. Even at his absolute worst points when he was a less than ideal man, you found some shred of decency inside him that you never hesitated to cradle and nurture.
Maybe that’s what had made those tangles form in his stomach; the idea that he was taking advantage of that kindness.
Because that wasn’t…you. You wouldn’t have done that in your right mind. If your boyfriend hadn’t just broken up with you. If you hadn’t just found out that the entire time Nick had been cheating on you with that woman from accounting in his office. If you hadn’t drank way too much. None of this would be happening if you weren’t at your absolute lowest. 
So he wiped the slate clean. It’d almost always been easy to do that. To simply forget. But he should’ve known better by now. Those things he somehow managed to lock up always found a way to ooze out of the cracks in his facade.
There were a few times Frankie thought you might crack during the ceremony. Especially when Will read out his vows, because of course the guy went the extra mile, delivering them with that stern reverence that made him the kind of guy you wanted on your team. 
But you didn’t cry. This time…you grabbed his hand. It almost didn’t occur to him that you had until Will kissed his now wife and you squeezed Frankie’s hand in excitement. For a moment, he wondered if you’d managed to get a drink in before the ceremony. You couldn’t have; the bar wasn’t supposed to open until afterwards. He knew it couldn’t have been an alcohol induced action but he was still afraid to acknowledge it. 
So he kept as still as possible. Even when the ceremony ended and you began to pull him around the venue. Though he knew his hand was getting clammier with every minute that passed, he let you drag him around the little circles of friends and family of the bride and groom. He had checked out enough that he didn’t quite realize what he’d gotten himself into until you were bringing him to the dance floor and positioning his hands on your hips.
Only when you let go of his hand and placed your own on his shoulders did it strike him how similar this felt to that night at Benny’s wedding.
You spoke like you were treading thin ice. “That speech was…surprisingly alright.”
“And you didn’t cry,” he remarked equally as carefully.
“I didn’t cry!” you exclaimed.
“It would’ve been fine if you had.”
You shook your head, “That wasn’t the kind of speech you cry at. It was simple. Sweet. I liked it. Who would’ve thought Benny’d have it in him, right?”
“So what do you do for that kind of speech?” Frankie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“A polite clap. Maybe a cheer.”
“A cheer? Maybe you should’ve brought your pom poms instead of tissues.”
The way you scrunched up your nose into a playful grimace tugged at his heartstrings. Then you laughed, “Shut up.” God, he loved when you and him fell into this groove. 
So he continued with the bit, “You should get some for Tom’s wedding. The guy deserves a whole damn squad if he gets all tied up again.”
“Thought you said I shouldn’t count on it?”
“If you’re gonna count on anyone getting married soon, it’s better if it was him.” Frankie clicked his tongue, “Not like I’m going off the market anytime soon.”
“Oh, Frankie, stop it.” Your smile dropped ever so slightly, eyebrows turned inward as you gazed at him with something akin to pity or sympathy; he wasn’t sure which was worse. “You have no idea what the future could bring.”
“Not a wedding, that’s for damn sure.”
Your expression only intensified. He recognized it well after the amount of times you’d talked him off a ledge. “You can’t just discount the possibility entirely,” you argued.
“I can and I will,” he said stubbornly.
You were quiet for a few seconds, “So you’re telling me you’ve never thought about it? I mean…who would your best man be?”
“I’m not answering that.”
Your lip quirks to the side of your face as you feign a contemplative look before concluding, “Probably Santi.”
“Look at you, you did it for me,” Frankie deadpanned.
“I could plan the whole damn thing for you, don’t test me.”
“Why’s that?”
This time you pressed your lips together. And Frankie swears he felt you stumble over your own feet ever so slightly; like he’d caught you off guard with the query. “Oh, you know…weddings usually aren’t those things that people are eager to plan.”
“But why would you specifically be planning it? Unless you’re–”
A beat passes before you break out into an incredulous grin. “You’d want me to marry you and plan our wedding? That’s a tall order. I’m afraid you’ll have to pick one or the other, sorry.”
Frankie chuckles. He let the remark pass. He always enjoyed this back and forth. How you and him had always been able to bounce off of each other. It was hard enough keeping up with some of the guys. But keeping up with women was a whole different story. He always seemed to be a few steps behind most of them. For some reason, your pace was just perfect. Your humor, your timing, it all clicked with his personality.
Just like you were prone to doing, you broke the silence with an awkward laugh and big eyes staring right into his. “So…which one do you pick?”
He almost didn’t catch the question; almost didn’t want to. “Hm?”
“Would you rather marry me or have me plan your wedding?” you clarify.
“Come on, you know I’m not answering that.”
And the tide shifted once more. Just as quick as you were to smile, your expression melted into one of muted mortification. Like you’d just tilted your hand a little too far
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled to yourself. Your hands slid off his shoulders and you wiped them off on your dress before wrapping them around yourself. That was when you retreated, leaving him standing there looking like more of a fool than he ever thought he had.
He stared after you for a few seconds, struggling to process what had just happened when it finally registered.
Soon he was following after you. How you knew to navigate the venue so quickly, he couldn’t be bothered to wonder. All he knew by the time he got to the lobby of the wedding hall was that something was wrong.
He spotted you rushing down the sidewalk as he stepped outside. In all his exasperation, all he could get out was, “Hey, what the fuck?”
The cool night air of the fall settled in and billowed around him like a curse. He wasn’t quite sure if the deep chill that ran down his spine was from the weather or the sight of you turning around, eyes already wet with tears that you were desperately trying to blink away.
Your voice came out hoarse as you shouted back, “You’re asking me what the fuck? No, Frankie, what the fuck is up with you? I kissed you…God…how many months ago? And you don’t say a fucking word. I keep talking about Benny’s wedding and you keep acting like none of it fucking happened.”
Frankie threw his hands up. “You were drunk. I don’t even remember how many fucking drinks you had.”
“I had a couple virgin cocktails,” you scoffed. The admittance wasn’t stubborn. But it did come with a tone of disdain, “I wasn’t drunk.”
“You wouldn’t–” he stopped himself. You wouldn’t have done any of that unless you were drunk.
“You acted like you were drunk.”
You shook your head. “I was having fun. I was with you and I was having fun, you dumbass.” Then you sighed, gaze darting towards the street nervously. “And I woke up the morning after and I thought that…I thought you would’ve at least said something. I thought you would’ve asked me how I felt. I thought you would’ve had the decency to at least check in. But you were just…you were completely fine.”
“I wasn’t fine…”
“And now you want to crack jokes about marrying me?”
Frankie wagged a finger in your direction, an almost childish defense. “You brought that shit up first.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie, that doesn’t matter,” you muttered before raising your voice once more. “What matters is that I kissed you. I looked into your eyes and told you I fucking loved you and you said nothing.”
Hearing your voice say it again, even filled with such frustration, such anguish, he could help the way something fluttered in his chest. And even still, he shoved it down deeper than he ever had before.
“Because I wasn’t going to hurt you the way that Nick did.” He watched your gaze soften. “It would’ve killed me to hurt you like that.”
With the sounds of the city passing you both by, Frankie caught one of the worst sights possible. The tear that rolled down your cheek. And then the few more that followed, all shamelessly continuing their desolate stride down your neck. How you unclenched your jaw and unfolded all of the pain you’d kept since that summer into a few words. “You hurt me worse than Nick ever did.”
Your whole being compacted in on itself once more, recoiling from the vulnerable admission with a breathless conclusion. “Fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you.”
There it all was. And all he could think about was that night at Benny’s wedding. The night you told him you were glad Nick was gone. The night you smiled softly at him, thumb running over his bottom lip as you whispered.
I love you.
They were such fragile words. Words he hadn’t wanted to put any weight on, lest they shatter from beneath him and leave him falling face down in his own hopes. Because a small part of him had almost always hoped it was you. He never let himself truly believe the idea for long. But, God, he wanted to…could he still? He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back his own tears.
“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled in time with his hands. And he’d fully come to terms that it wasn’t just the cool air. He wasn’t a stranger to fearing for his life, with the work he’d once done, it was a given. But this wasn’t that. This was different. It was a fear of something a little more abstract. Because following this risk, there wouldn’t be oblivion. On the other side of his eyelids was a world where you either forgave him or you brushed him away. He certainly believed he deserved the latter with the way he’d been. But he’d never know unless he took the plunge.
When he opened his eyes again again he was grateful to find you still standing in front of him. He wouldn’t let this night steal his courage again. He repeated, voice firmer than before and charged with certainty, “I’m sorry.” Then finally replied, “I love you too. I love you.”
You gave him those hope filled eyes once more. He saw how it slowly morphed into joy; the kind that carried peace. You stepped closer, fingertips brushing against the material of his jacket as you reached for him.
Frankie closed the gap without any hesitation, his own hand moving to cradle your face as he moved in to kiss you. None of his recollections of the first time he’d done it could’ve ever lived up to the second one. There was no dread, no looming guilt, no fear. Only excitement and hope.
“If I could only pick one. I’d marry you. Any day…I’d marry you,” he mumbled against your lips.
You pulled back. And with his eyes still closed, he felt you smile as you answered, “Maybe I’ll ask you again next year. For now, let’s have this.”
“I can handle that,” he smiled then melted into you once more. And already it was something he knew he could easily get used to. Next time you asked, he’d be ready.
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