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wardenparker · 1 year

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The Viper’s Bride - ch 4

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: Explicit for violent circumstances.18+ Word Count: 10.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* Groping, ogling, plenty of references to sex. Hurt/comfort, half truths, angst, protective instincts are very high. Summary: The afternoon after meeting your betrothed is arguably even more eventful than the morning was, but in a very different way. Notes: We are in it deep now, my dears! Secrets being kept, truths being revealed, and a big step forward that will open up a whole new world of possibilities for our two pairs of lovers.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3

Things are lusty right off the bat this chapter, so we begin under the cut...

“You look like the cat who got the cream, my love.” Oberyn drags his nose against Ellaria’s shoulder and places a kiss on it as he pulls the shoulder of the revealing dress down. The whores are on their way and the wine carafe has been filled, along with the table of refreshments that Oberyn required. It was going to be an entertaining time. “Are you imagining Cal’s cock or my own?”

“Stone’s,” she tells him with a hum, unembarrassed and unashamed. The allure of the man is so great that she has been thinking of him since last night though Oberyn still has no idea of the invitation she sent you.

“He is gorgeous.” Oberyn’s tone is one of regret, since you have indicated that he would not be open to exploring sexual pleasures with him. “Almost as breathtaking as you.” His hand slides up to cup her breast, the small mound filling his hand and he squeezes. “You will look good on his cock.” He has no doubt that Ellaria will end up with the man between her thighs, he had recognized the desire in the other man’s eyes when returning you to him.

"I hope he plays well." The deep chuckle from the back of Ellaria's throat becomes a quiet moan as his large hand gropes at her skin and she smirks at Oberyn. "He will be an excellent sparring partner for you."

“We will have to spar outside the bed, I am afraid.” Her nipple pebbles beautifully and he enjoys the throaty whimper she gives him when he rolls it between his fingers.

The pronounced pout on Ellaria’s lips comes with heavy doubt, and she looks down at her lover as she swings one leg over his lap to straddle him. “She is not willing to share him?”

The other hand comes to hold onto her ass, dragging her closer to him. “He is not inclined to have a cock in his ass or mouth.”

“Or at least he has not told her that he desires it.” Ellaria tuts as she settles herself in his lap. “In the North they shame men for far less, my love. You know this.”

“This is true.” He acknowledges, letting go of her tit so he can slap it lightly. “We shall see if he will be intrigued enough to admit it if it is a secret.”

The small act of dominance is not unusual for Oberyn but Ellaria still still smirks while she unties her dress and lets it hang open for him. “What about her, my heart? You have not told me about your walk yet.” You may not be enough to be considered competition, but she is interested in you. You represent a great change in Oberyn’s life, and therefore hers as well.

“She is…” Oberyn frowns slightly and gropes her again greedily. “Not what I expected.” He admits. “She has spirit for a Northern lady. And she freely admitted to fucking her lover.” Looking back it had surprised him because despite everything, she could still be punished for not being innocent. Not that Oberyn cares about the falsities of purity.

“I doubt she said those words.” She might have a touch more of respect for you if you did. The way you hold yourself is strong. You have confidence but not about everything. And certainly not about your desires. Hopefully you will mature beyond the shame that was used to control you in the North. “I can only say that I am glad she has some spine. The father had none at all.”

“The father is a sniveling coward, controlled by his wife’s cold cunt.” Oberyn snorts, having decided the woman is a bitch, one that he would have struck if she had been his. The disrespect for him and her daughter was appalling. “He should get his balls untangled from her purse strings.”

"It may be an irreversible condition," Ellaria huffs and shakes her head. "Frozen balls, cold cunt, greedy hearts."

“Mmmmhmm.” Oberyn leans in and captures her lips again in a hungry kiss, tired of talking about people who are inconsequential to him. Once you are married, he will not have to deal with them again.

The sound of a woman clearing her throat is loud enough from the doorway to bring the lovers out of their moment of passion and Leyth is standing in the doorway looking apprehensive when they finally turn their attention to her. "Your Grace..." she clears her throat again, this time out of nerves. "You have visitors."

Oberyn hums, not terribly concerned with it, assuming Tyrion had sent the whores he had spoken of so fondly. “Send them in.” He orders, turning his attention back to his lover’s breasts. “And when you are cleaned up, you and Cal will also join us.”

"Yes, your Grace." She has a feeling that the prince will be slightly less inclined to pleasure after he has received these urgent guests, but she doesn't have a chance to say so.

Hearing Oberyn's voice and his permission to enter, you burst past the girl who announced you – serving girl or whore, it makes no difference to you – with Raeden following immediately behind you. With barely enough time to catch your breath and knowing what you're about to ask of him, this time when you enter Prince Oberyn's presence you drop into a deep curtsy. Groveling, you can hear your septa's voice in your mind. Only worms grovel. Well...perhaps that is what you are. You cannot tell anymore. "I am sorry to disturb you, Prince Oberyn. We would not have come if it was not absolutely necessary."

Oberyn’s mouth had just wrapped around Ellaria’s nipple when he hears your voice. Turning his eyes, he finds your Ser Raeden Stone staring at him in shock as your own head pops up from your curtsy.

"I—" There is no second syllable or word, whatever you had meant to say immediately dying on your lips as you look away in embarrassment.

"Sadly it does not seem to be a visit for pleasure," Ellaria observes. The pair of you are flustered and winded, and there is fear in your eyes.

Oberyn pulls off her tit with an unhappy pop, eyes curious as they take in his intended bride and her soulmate. “I see.” He motions to Leyth. “Pour our guests some wine.” He orders. “They look like they are parched.”

Leyth moves wordlessly, pouring wine into goblets and disappearing with the mostly empty vessel to fetch more, and you swallow your fear even as it makes you feel sick to your stomach. "We need to speak to you." Nothing else can come first. No pleasantries or flattery or anything else. There is no time. "I am afraid...it is a matter of life or death."

“Life or death.” His brow arches up and he pats Ellaria’s hip softly to urge her to lift off of him. His hand runs up to cover her back up, even though he doesn’t mind others seeing her. You, however, might object.

"I am afraid so." With no one else in the room, the one thing you are not afraid of is reaching back for Raeden's hand. "If it were only my life that my mother had threatened, I might not have considered it a very serious thing, but..." As much as you hate her, the idea that she has finally cracked and gone mad is not an easy one to swallow.

Raeden squeezes your hand, nodding subtly and raising his eyes to the prince and his paramour. "She attacked my lady when we returned to her chambers. And intends to spread the lie that I forced myself on her. They will hang me for it, your Grace, regardless of the truth. Unless you are willing to shelter us."

Oberyn pauses, his own wine cup almost to his lips. His eyes flicker to Ellaria and he pulls the cup down. “Those are grave accusations.” He agrees. “Your neck would be stretched before the sun rises.” He is shocked to see you here, but now he understands why you would show up to the brothel with your soulmate’s life in danger.

"She is angry that I was disrespectful to her this morning." You never would have thought she was capable of being so intentionally cruel before, but the last few weeks have been eye-opening on that front. "But her anger is far beyond anything I have seen before. She tore her dress and pulled her hair and announced to us what she planned to say."

“Spiteful cunt.” Oberyn snorts and shakes his head, aware that the mere accusation alone would tear you from your soulmate. Something that would be well within his right, as well, as your future lord husband. “What will you ask of me?” He asks. “Prepare you a room? That is easily done.” He turns to see where Leyth has skittered off to.

"Raeden is under my family's thumb as long as I remain their property." What you have to ask of him is far more than you were prepared for an hour ago – and arguably more than you are prepared for even now. But to save your soulmate's life? You would do anything. You would give your own life for Raeden. Or, in this case, your freedom. "But he is pledged to my safety." Hands trembling, you manage to raise your chin and find Oberyn's eyes in the sunlight that streams in through the windows behind him. "If—" It has to be done, but the words stick in your throat and you simply have to be grateful that there are no tears with the request. Although, if you thought they would sway the prince, you would be sobbing on your knees. "If you and I were already married, he would be protected by your name and title."

The silence hangs over the room for a long moment. Ellaria holds her breath, her eyes wide in surprise that you would be so bold as to beg the prince to marry you. She looks to Oberyn to see how he will react to your request. “We will go to great lengths to save our soulmates, will we not?” He asks you after a moment, looking between you and your Raeden. His gaze settles on the man beside you. “You will pledge your fealty to Dorne.” He tells the other man. “Wear our colors and ride under my banner.”

"That was always to be my fate." As much as Raeden may bristle at how it is being done, he understands the situation. That a return to the Red Keep without this protection will surely mean his death. You have just stepped out onto the precipice of the unknown for him without hesitation and he won't do you the dishonor of challenging you in front of others. If it was your life on the line he would do anything. "I would do so now with a grateful heart if you are willing to protect me when you could just as easily throw me to the wolves and be rid of me"

There is a sense of honor to admitting that your Raeden acknowledges the power that Oberyn holds over the situation. A nobility that cannot be taught to most and your low born soulmate possesses it, like his own does. Oberyn nods after a moment and glances at your dress. “There is no time to collect your things from the keep, so I hope you are not disappointed to marry in your day dress.”

"It would not surprise me to find my mother has already destroyed my things in a rage." There were plenty of personal items in those trunks that you brought from the Vale - your journal, treasured gifts, beloved books - all things that may already be lost to you. You simply do not know what happened after you fled. How could you? "Thank you, my lord." The heavy ache in your heart at having to marry anyone who is not Raeden is lessened knowing that he will remain well and at your side. If it is by the grace of Prince Oberyn Martell, then so be it. "It is my understanding that my dowry has already been paid to your brother, if...if that was a concern of yours."

“I do not care about that.” He waves his hand and takes a sip of his wine. “My brother takes care of those things.” He knows that you are not happy with having to bind yourself to him so he walks over to Ellaria. “We will give you two a moment alone to talk before we make our way to the Citadel.”

"Thank you, my lord." There is nothing else to say, not to him. What to say to Raeden is a very different matter.

Ellaria and Oberyn sweep out of the room and Raeden turns to you, hurt radiating out of his eyes. He had not been privy to your plot the entire time you had been running across the city and he can’t help but feel betrayed.

"If you hate me now, at least you will be alive to do so." If you had told him what you were going to ask – made him party to the only thing you could think of that would ensure his survival – you know he would have objected. He would have been noble and tried to spare you from your fate, insisting that he would find another way. But there is no other way, not one that does not involve spending the rest of your lives on the run. "I have told you more than once that I would give my life for you no matter the circumstances. It was not an empty promise, my love."

“You should not have to sacrifice yourself, your body for me.” Raeden shakes his head and grips your hands tightly. “I cannot let you do this, my love.”

"What is the alternative?" He seems more upset than angry, and you will consider that a small mercy for now. "I marry him and you die? I do not marry him and we flee? If we flee we will be found, or else live our entire lives in fear. That is not a life. It is a sentencing."

“I–” his voice cracks and there are tears in his eyes shimmering just under the surface of his brown orbs. “I thought I had more time.” He confesses. After tonight he will not have to you himself. The fear that despite what the prince had said, he would be kept from you is always in the back of his mind.

"So did I." Your arms wrap around him, clinging to him with a desperation that you had been able to push aside while you were running. "More time. More chances to see if there was a way forward for just the two of us." His frame shakes with a stifled sob and you follow him immediately, tears staining his shirt as you bury your face in the fabric. "But my freedom is a small price to pay for your life." Especially when your measure of actual freedom was dubious in the first place.

Clinging to you, Raeden closes his eyes, accepting that you will be another man’s wife. That he will not have you for himself. There is no chance to have a life beyond bearing a Prince’s children and being his princess. Swallowing harshly, he pulls away to kiss you one last time.

The moment tastes of desperation, salt tears staining the kiss and making you wish for the first time that you had actually kept your mouth shut this morning. Your insufferable and cruel mother has outdone herself this time, and dragged you down with the depths of her rage. If you must remind yourself every moment of each day that this is worth the sacrifice, you will. All it will take is looking Raeden in the face to know that you did what you had to. He will live. That is all that matters.

From the doorway, Oberyn watches the tender moment. Feeling for the soulmates, because this is due to no fault of your own. It is natural to feel trapped and hopeless at this moment. He clears his throat and motions towards the door. “We must make haste before your mother determines where you have fled.”

"Of course." Just because you have reached the prince's side does not mean you are free - in fact in many ways it now means the opposite. Drying your tears on your handkerchief, you barely step back from Raeden but nod to the man who now securely controls the trajectory of your life. As soon as a maester can be persuaded, he will be your husband. At least you can go into it knowing that he is a good man. "Show us the way, my lord."

Ellaria is waiting in the carriage that has already been pulled in front. Oberyn walks in front of you slightly so that you and your soulmate may have another few moments together. “We will go to the Citadel.”

******

The ride is quiet. Thick with tension and discomfort. Staring at the frayed hems of your gown instead of watching for the approach of the Citadel, you end up jolting upright in surprise when the carriage comes to a stop, as though you are afraid that it might be your mother in the road that you have stopped for instead of your destination.

“We have arrived.” Oberyn hums, opening the door and hopping out of the carriage to look up at the building that he had left so many years before. “It has been a long time since I have been here.” He muses, reaching back to help you and then Ellaria out of the carriage.

"You will be remembered, lover." Ellaria steps out of the carriage after you and gathers her skirts, trying to offer what support she can to her soulmate on this extremely unusual afternoon. Her own dislike for the situation is not what is important. Oberyn's decision has been made.

There is a moment where he continues to hold her hand, squeezing it gently. Once the two of them had left the room, he had spoken honestly with her. Reassuring her that this would not change her role in his life. “Undoubtedly.”

The wizened man by the door when the four of you enter is proof enough of that, and he bows deeply when his eyes fall on the golden-robbed man leading the way. "Prince Oberyn." There is a smile on his lips and he moves to offer the prince his hand when he stands. "It has been twenty years since you graced our halls. Welcome, my lord. Welcome."

“Maester Rhodestone.” Oberyn chuckles as he takes the man’s hand and shakes it firmly. “You have finished your links. You did not grow weary of it?”

“Oh, many times. But it was something to do.” The old man laughs, honest amusement lacing the sound as he shakes the prince’s hand. “What honor has earned the Citadel such an illustrious visit? And with such lovely guests.”

“I studied under this man.” Oberyn explains, mainly to you. “He was the one to not chastise me when I impregnated the High Priestess of the Sept.”

Of course he did such a thing. Your instinct is to bury your face in your palm at that news, or at least it would be if you were not so frozen with fear and tension. “I am very honored to make your acquaintance, maester.” You say instead, bowing your head respectfully.

“Who have you brought to our door, Oberyn?” Maester Rhodestone looks your party of four over with interest and offers a smile to you and Ellaria. “What service may we be to these beautiful creatures?”

“I wish to marry.” Oberyn announces, not one ounce of irony in his voice. “The contract between my house and my bride’s is set, the dowry is paid, and my lady wishes to remain pure until the vows are spoken.” He lies easily, turning to take your hand and guide you forward.

“I have never known a lady to remain pure for very long in the presence of Oberyn Martell,” the maester chuckles with delight. “You have agreed to this, my lady? To wed the prince and stand by him in all wifely duty until the expiration of your days?”

“I have very nearly begged for it.” As giddy as the sentence could be, that is how harshly you must swallow your fears and pride. This is the decision that will save you and Raeden from your mother’s ire. It must be done before it is too late. “We do not wish to delay any longer, maester.”

“It is unusual to have these things rushed.” He’s curious, tilting his head towards Oberyn as if to ask for an explanation. Especially the day before the king’s wedding. A Prince should have more than vows spoken in haste, but it is not his place to make that judgment.

“It is.” You know that. There is no way around it, and since the prince has already declared you to be pure you cannot claim that you wish to be married because you have felt the pleasures of his bed already. In fact, you may have to lean squarely in the opposite direction. “As you have witnessed, maester, the prince is capable of…stirring great passion in those around him.” The lie nearly makes you shiver, knowing Raeden is right behind you, but you pretend to demure instead of being terrified. “Pleasures that should not be indulged in before our vows are spoken, lest the prince’s heir be argued a bastard.”

“Ahhhhhh.” The maester nods wisely, well aware of why you would be worried about that considering the numerous bastards Oberyn has already fathered. “I see. Well, then I see no reason to require you to wait.” He chuckles and winks at you. “You will be in his bed tonight.”

The sharp intake of your soulmate’s breath behind you is painful beyond explanation, but you have to let your heart break in silence. “We are lucky to have found you first, Maester Rhodestone.”

Oberyn turns back to see Raeden looking like he would rather face the hangman’s noose and Ellaria frowning slightly. He knows this is not ideal, and yet it will be the only way to make sure that all four of you make it back to Dorne. “We do not need any ceremony.” Oberyn tells the maester. “Just the vows and the record of it.”

"Have you brought a ring for your bride?" The maester asks. There is no rule saying both must wear one, but for a wife to wear a ring is tradition as everyone knows.

He hadn’t since this was so rushed and he hadn’t exactly wanted this in the first place, but the maester doesn’t know that. “Here is your ring, my prince.” Ellaria steps forward and holds out a gold and amber ring, intricately designed with vines that make up the band. It’s the ring he had bought his soulmate the last time he had been away from her on a trip for Doran. Her gift when he had come home to her.

Stunned at the gesture, you cannot tear your eyes from Ellaria as she hands over the ring from her own finger. She could so easily despise you for being betrothed to her soulmate. Or thwart your efforts to save Raeden's life. But instead she is offering something of her own up to a moment that arguably has nothing to do with her. It fills you with a deep sense of shame when you remember that you do feel attraction for the man that the gods determined should be hers. If there is ever a way to alleviate that guilt, you hope it will come swiftly as this next stage of your life falls out around you. Thank you, the words might be mouthed to her behind the maester's back, but they are sincere.

Ellaria nods discreetly, her hand caressing Oberyn’s back as she steps back and stands beside Raeden, making it appear as if she had come with him to see the marriage completed rather than her own soulmate binding himself to someone who is not her. She cannot deny the pang of surprising jealousy, but it will pass. What she and Oberyn share is real, unbreakable.

The maester leads the four of you through a maze of hallways as impressive and intimidating as any in the Red Keep before indicating a small room to the left of where you have come to stop. "My lady, you and your maid may make yourselves ready here, I will acquaint your betrothed and his witness with their duties at the altar. Will you be requiring a septa for spiritual guidance in your last unmarried minutes?"

"No, maester." A glance at Ellaria shows neither of you is pleased with the assumption that she is your servant, but you suppose it is a natural mistake. You should have a maid. "Thank you. We will join you shortly."

Ellaria scoffs when the door is closed and turns towards you with a roll of her eyes. “These northern maester believe that all women from Dorne are whores or maids.” She huffs, reaching up and starting to fix your hair where it has been disheveled from your run through the city. “I will hold my tongue because Oberyn holds him in some respect.”

"Ellaria." Your hands shoot out, grasping hers with more immediacy than even you expected. "I cannot—this situation is not what—" Blowing out a breath only makes your hands shake and a few tears escape your eyes before you can stop them. "I am sorry. And so grateful. Please know that."

“Hush.” She clicks her tongue and squeezes your hand encouragingly before she pulls it away and produces a handkerchief from a pocket she has sewn into her far more revealing dress. “There is nothing to be sorry for.” She had known that this day might come. “We would not let your soulmate die for falsehoods.” She wipes away your tears and her dark eyes stare into yours. “No tears when you marry a prince.” She chides softly, cupping your cheeks.

"If I could turn the world on its ear, it would be me readying you to wed the prince." It's a shuddering and grasping kind of sadness that sits deep in your stomach, but you try to straighten your shoulders. Anything to shake this blanketing fear. "You sent that invitation to find out what sort of a person I am. And the truth is that I am the sort of person who would give her life for those she loves. And so I am."

“I do not wish to be a princess.” She hums, with a small smile. “We have that in common. Along with the need to protect those I love.” She leans in and presses her lips to your softly. It’s not a seductive kiss, or punishing. It’s meant to be soothing and welcoming. It only lasts for a few seconds before she is pulling back. “You are not giving your life.” She murmurs quietly. “You are beginning to live.”

"I promise that I will never keep him from you." Since it is your intention to demand as little of his time or attention as possible, this should be a simple enough endeavor, but it is important that she hears this promise from you directly. "He will be half myself by the law, but he is half of yourself by decree of the gods."

She doesn’t answer, because she knows that life will not quite be what you expect married to Oberyn, but Ellaria smiles. “We should not keep them waiting.”

******

Maester Rhodestone seems very deliberate when he leaves Oberyn and Raeden alone at the altar for a moment to retrieve the volume he requires to perform the marriage, but Raeden does not move. He is staring past the intricate windows set deep into the walls of the Citadel and wondering if he truly wishes he were dead or if that is simply what having one's heart ripped in two feels like.

Oberyn feels for the man, watching him for a moment before he steps closer and claps one firm, heavily muscled shoulder. “Your soulmate will be Princess of Dorne, loved and protected by her people.” He tells him. “You will be there to make sure of it. That is what is intended here.” He knows it is a small comfort, but it is what he can offer. Both you and he are marrying for different reasons, but marrying nonetheless.

“She is very easy to love.” Raeden chokes out, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He takes two deep breaths, but his mighty frame could be knocked over by a simple leaf right now. “It will not take long for you to see.”

“If that time comes, do you think that I would forsake my own soulmate?” Oberyn asks bluntly. “My love for Ellaria will never waver. Just like your own for your soulmate will not.”

“I do not know what to think,” the younger man admits quietly. His voice is as far off as his gaze and his fears are directly on the surface of his being.

“All will be well.” Oberyn reassures Raeden, reaching out and caressing the man’s cheek softly. The man really is gorgeous and Oberyn feels for him. Despite his reputation, he feels he is more of a lover than most men.

“She likes sunrise. And wildflowers. And sweets, anything to nibble on.” The sickness in his stomach pushes words out of his mouth instead of bile, as though he is trying to match the erratic beating of his own heart with rambling. It all seems to just tumble out of him. “If she could spend her whole life drinking tea in a library she would be ecstatic. I have seen her literally give the suffering the clothes off of her back when it would help them and despair for days until she figures out how to assist them when it does not.” The shine of water in his eyes is pure admiration, and Raeden exhales shakily. “Be good to her, my lord.”

“She will have the same respect my paramour does.” It seems as if Raeden has not been told, or does not believe that he will be allowed to stay by your side as your soulmate. He would say more but the shuffling steps of the maester sound long before his appearance, the clanking of his chain loud against the soft robes he wears.

“All is prepared?” Maester Rhodestone reappears with a thick volume and sets it on the altar where the two men are standing but his attention is at the door of the room where the lady’s maid has appeared. “The lady is ready?”

“The future princess is ready.” Ellaria nods, unwilling to call you ‘my lady’ as if she is a servant. Slowly walking over, she exchanges a look with Oberyn and stands beside a distraught looking Raeden.

“Come, child.” The maester beckons you forward and you know you must step forward or else it is Raeden’s blood on your hands. Your smile is a lie, forced and afraid, but you still stand before the maester at the prince’s side. “Splendid. There is nothing to fear. Marriage is not the prison for all that it is for some,” he smiles as if he knows a secret. “Not when there is love.”

It is hard to not roll his eyes, but Oberyn takes your hand and leans down, pressing a kiss to it. “My lady knows how I feel.” He assures the maester, giving you a fond look. While he might not be enamored with you, you do intrigue him and Oberyn enjoys his intrigues. You are sharp witted and surprisingly clever tongued which means that there should be no reason that you cannot adapt to his life easily. Either that or he will set you up on a small estate and leave you be.

"Then let it be known." A craggy smile from the old man is enough and he begins to recite the small ceremony from memory. You have to supply your name and the name of your House for him when the time comes, but at least your voice works well enough to say them. “Let it be known that these betrothed are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words.”

Breathing as steadily as you can force yourself, you turn to Prince Oberyn as you're supposed to, knowing the words you are meant to say in unison: “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger...I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

With a low, measured voice, Oberyn repeats the vow with you. “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.” He had never imagined saying these vows, never wished to, and now the die is cast. His eyes are watching yours, and he swears he sees the guilt and sorrow swimming in them, but he knows this is what must happen.

There is a momentary pause where he slips the ring that Ellaria had given back to him onto your finger. The sound of two pairs of soulmates holding their breath is a stony silence indeed but the maester seems either not to notice or not to mind. "With this kiss, I pledge my love." The last words you will ever say as an unmarried woman seal you to a man you barely know, but you have to have faith that you are making the right decision.

His eyes shift past you to Ellaria and Raeden. “With this kiss, I pledge my love.” He vows, looking back at you before he steps closer to you and reaches for your chin to press a fleeting kiss to your lips.

"Your marriage will be recorded for the gods to bless." Maester Rhodestone declares with a satisfied and perhaps slightly oblivious smile. "I wish your Graces every happiness."

“We thank you, Maester Rhodestone.” Despite the maester swearing off worldly possessions, Oberyn knows how much the old man likes his drink and his whores. Or at least he had when Oberyn was studying. He slips a stack of gold coins in his hand and nods, “Gods be with you.”

Just like that it is over, and the four of you exchange stunted looks of uncertainty. The maester thanks the prince once more and leans over the book in front of him to record your names before sweeping the volume out of the room in his arms.

"My lord..." Raeden swallows the bile threatening to rise in his throat and turns to the prince with his hand on his sword. "My blade is yours."

There is a moment where the prince wonders if the man will be sick or draw his sword on him, but it passes. Oberyn nods, feeling as if the moment deserves more formality, but this is not to be had. “Dorne accepts you as one of their own.” He pledges. “Our enemies are your enemies, and your enemies are ours. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken, that is the House Martell creed and the creed of Dorne.”

“Unbowed, unbent, unbroken.” The younger man nods solemnly. To be a knight in service to a prince is not altogether that different than being in service to a great family, and although everything seems to have changed by the edge of a coin - not much truly has.

“Now.” Oberyn reaches for Ellaria’s hand and pulls her to his side. “Shall we adjourn back to the brothel?” He asks, raising his brows in question. “We have a wedding night to commence.”

“Of course.” Even though he reaches for Ellaria instead of you, the statement turns your stomach. Technically the marriage is not legal until it is consummated, and that will require going to his bed. Halfway between fainting and being ill right there on the stone floor of the Citadel, you somehow still manage to follow him out of the room while you grasp blindly for Raeden’s hand.

Ellaria sneaks glances at her lover as they walk, noting the slightly smug look on his face. An expression that can only mean that he is plotting and she wonders if it is about you and your soulmate or upstaging the Lannisters at the king’s wedding tomorrow.

In minutes you are back out to the carriage, and this time those low and reverent bows are for two of you. The magnitude of what you have done is overwhelming, but one look to your soulmate beside you as the carriage pulls away is enough. He is here. He is alive. He is safe.

In the carriage, Oberyn sits beside his soulmate and lances his fingers with hers, leaning in and kissing her cheek softly. “You are my world, my sun.” He reminds her softly in her ear.

“My heart.” Ellaria tucks herself close to him, murmuring the words barely loud enough to be heard.

He decides that he will not discuss things with you or your lover, allowing you time to accept the monumental change that has just occurred in silence. The carriage sways and the shouts and noises from outside the vehicle get louder as the driver takes you back to Flea Bottom and the brothel.

******

“Prince Oberyn.” Littlefinger is at the door of the establishment when the carriage arrives, and like any good purveyor of people and knowledge, he likes to keep track of everything that happens within his walls. “I trust everything is well?”

“Splendid.” He does not trust Littlefinger with the news of his nuptials. The man is far too good at supplying information when it is beneficial to him and right now, your mother and father might be looking for you. He pulls the man to the side, away from you and the others. “I find myself requiring an additional room, next to my own. And another carriage to fetch some trunks from the Red Keep.” He tells the man quietly. “Discreetly.”

“Arrangements can be made this evening.” Littlefinger promises, glancing past the prince to the rest of the party disembarking from his carriage. Petyr Baelish of Baelish Castle is the other lord of the Fingers in the Vale and he always takes great care in knowing his rivals. In this case, the children of his rivals. “Discreetly.” He nods, wondering if the Dornish prince has absconded with you against your father’s wishes. Sniveling man with an insufferable wife, if he remembers correctly.

“The room needs to be available now.” Oberyn insists. “Fresh sheets, next to my own room.” His demand that you be close is probably a little selfish, but this is a brothel and you are a beautiful woman.

“And a meal?” Littlefinger guesses, knowing that the last spread for the prince had barely been touched. He keeps track of every berry and goblet, of course. “Your Grace, I am not in the business of…hiding the ladies of the Vale.” The smile he aims at you is meant to be charming, but he falls just short and instead looks pinched. “Is everything well?”

“I know you.” From out of the carriage, you are able to see the face that matches the voice, and the two are not easily forgotten together. “You are Petyr Baelish, are you not?” It would be a waste to wait for him to answer, and you turn to the prince. “This man knows me, my lord, and knows my family. The last time we saw his face at our home was at my youngest brother’s wedding.” You frown, remembering the incident distinctly. “Lysa Arryn was very upset when he asked to dance with me.”

Oberyn sighs softly and turns to bring you forward after you exit the carriage until you are standing by his side. “My wife.” He introduces you to Baelish, watching the decidedly small eyes of the man’s rodent-like face widen in surprise. “We have just returned from the maester’s recording of our vows.”

“I see.” Baelish’s pointed face spreads alarmingly, pointed on a grin. “It is your wife’s things that need fetching from the Red Keep?” That is a service he will provide with glee. “I will see it done myself, your Graces. And without giving the lady away to her parents, of course. That happy news is yours to report.” He will, however, relish every ounce of information he can gather along the way. “Leyth will see to the extra room. I will tell her to spare nothing.”

Oberyn nods stiffly, aware that the news will now spread far faster than he had intended for it to. “I need a drink.” He states, taking your hand and guiding you towards the chambers where he had first been interrupted from his play.

“I did not know Baelish was the proprietor here.” You insist, hurrying along the halls at his side with Ellaria and Raeden behind you. “I knew nothing of this place. Surely you understand that?”

“I understand that Baelish will pass along whatever information will curry him the most favor.” Oberyn retorts. “And you can most certainly guarantee that your mother will learn you are here, unless it is of greater profit to him to keep that information from her.”

“Tell him you will take your business elsewhere.” It is the best suggestion you can think of, as you seem to be spending every moment of your time in your now husband’s presence panicking. “He would lose your favor and your coin. That is worth far more than anything my parents could offer.”

“Then he will know that there is blood in the water.” Oberyn shakes his head and throws open the doors to the chambers. “We will do nothing.” It’s entirely possible Baelish will not say anything, fearful of Oberyn’s wrath.

“As you say.” The room is lush, housing an oversized bed and plenty of seating with a long table for banqueting with candles in their elaborate holders all along its length. Two trunks sit in either far corner that you assume belong to Oberyn and Ellaria each, and a connecting door opens to a room just beyond where two women around your own age are hurrying around laying fresh bedclothes and food. The perfumed air is heavy and inviting, speaking to oils or incense as prominent as the sounds of pleasure echoing from other parts of the building. It would be a welcoming enough place if you were to come here for its intended purpose, but you would never have done anything of the sort.

“He knows what is best,” Ellaria assures you, dropping back onto a plush, cushioned chair without hesitation. “Do not think more of it. You need rest after everything that has happened.”

Walking over to the table, Oberyn reaches for the wine goblet that had been replaced in his absence. “Raeden.” He turns his attention to your soulmate as he pours wine into the cup. “Remove your clothes, you will not wear those colors again. You will wear mine.”

The younger man freezes for a moment at the order before it is complete, but nods at the full thought. He is not meant to entirely undress in front of his soulmate’s new lord and husband. That would be entirely too cruel. Instead he strips his armor and your house’s colors, leaving him in only his soft shirt, leather pants, and boots. “Will you require me to give up my sword?” He asks, glad that for the moment you are holding it rather than leaving it laying on the table. You know what it means to him.

“Your weapon is your own.” Oberyn shakes his head. “You will be offered others, when we return to Dorne but you choose what you carry.” He knows what it is like to prefer your own weapon and how skill can be affected by carrying an unfamiliar one. He hands Ellaria the goblet and pours another. “My love, get our Ser Raeden a set of colors from my trunk?” He asks, eyeing the man unabashedly.

"Gold will be your color, I imagine." Ellaria hums as she digs through the layers of fabric, coming out with linens and silks in all the colors of fire that the royal guard wears. This trunk has gifts and tokens in it - all things that Oberyn can distribute as he sees fit. "Here, my love. Robes as lush as a Dornish summer."

The material is far finer than most of the guard who had traveled with Oberyn wear, but it is fitting. Raeden’s station will be one of importance to you, to the Martells, and tomorrow it will be a statement to your family. That he is under Prince Oberyn’s banner and protection. He takes the robe and saunters over to where you and your lover are standing. “It will look very becoming against his dark skin.”

The layers are simple, but the soft linen shirt in the pile will replace the one he is wearing now and Raeden glances momentarily at you before stripping off the white fabric and replacing it with amber. The embroidered silk robe that goes over it may be the finest and most elaborate piece of clothing he has ever owned but that makes sense considering who it represents. It isn't like the robes that the guard who had driven the carriage wore, or like anything he has seen before.

Oberyn doesn’t watch as you help your lover lay the robes properly, pulling Ellaria close and kissing along her neck gently. “He will look good in our colors, will he not?” He asks quietly.

"Almost as if he was born to wear them." Oberyn might be looking away but Ellaria watches intently, observing the way the two of you are together and how doting you are as you help him dress. It may be your guilt, in part, but it is also love. "You will let him continue to guard her, won't you? Or do you have more gifts in that clever mind of yours?"

“He is a bastard with a very costly sword.” Oberyn can tell the weapon means far more to him than just a favored tool. “I wish to know more about Raeden Stone.” He admits. “Who sired him. He was raised with honor.”

"Mmmm," Ellaria chuckles deeply, her approval marked with a sigh. "My love is curious. That is always worthwhile."

“His fate is intertwined with our own now.” There is something about the man that draws his lover, he is not unaware of it, watching the way her eyes seek him out.

"And hers." Looking back at Oberyn, she smiles softly and presses her lips earnestly to his. "She is very sweet. If innocent."

“Her mother must have thought she was sentencing the girl to hell, convincing her father to marry her off to me.” Oberyn snorts, shaking his head.

"I think so." Another laugh bubbles out of Ellaria and she kisses him again. "But I think she was also more concerned with what you could give to her. She will be very disappointed to find that the answer is nothing."

“That woman is wretched.” He huffs. “We know whores with more honor.”

"Many of them." Ellaria huffs and brushes her fingers along his trim beard. "She will be better off with us."

“She does not believe so.” He’s unsure why that thought irks him so. Normally he is very unconcerned with what anyone thinks of him. “I might as well be a dragon of old, haunting her dreams with a fiery breath that consumes all.”

"She thinks that she is taking my place." Which, if it was true, she would be grateful for your apologies and your humble attitude. "And probably fears that you will go back on your word and tear her soulmate from her side or force her to your bed. The men where she is from do not keep their promises." Ellaria shakes her head and cups Oberyn's cheek in one hand. "She needs time, my love."

“And they call Dorne savage.” He hisses, shaking his head. “She could never take your place, my sun.” He looks back over at you and your soulmate and sighs.

"I mean to say she is afraid to take my place." Ellaria clarifies, with a tut. "She does not want to. Which is to her credit. Her horrid mother and sniveling father seem to have birthed a woman of caring."

The servants that were preparing your rooms disappear and Oberyn hums, wrapping his arm around Ellaria’s waist. “Now, the wedding night can begin.” He announces with a smirk.

"I—" You look as if you are about to burst out crying, standing there in the center of the room with your eyes wide and your shoulders rounded over. Raeden's hand on your shoulder tightens but he nods. You both know what comes next, but neither of you can seem to move.

“There is wine and food laid out, and your trunks should be delivered soon so you can settle.” He can tell that you don’t understand what he is saying. “Enjoy yourselves and if you wish to join, we will be having a wonderful set of whores in our bed tonight.” He smirks again and pulls Ellaria closer. “Aren’t we, my sun?” He asks, leaning in and nipping at her jawline playfully.

"We have been playing favorites, my heart." And from the pleased purr in Ellaria's voice, she is not the least bit sorry about that. "Cal and Leyth will either be very sad to see us go or they will sleep for a week from exhaustion,"

"You mean...?" It has taken a few extra moments – and some clarification – to wrap your mind around what the prince is saying, but when you fully realize it you practically run to his side to embrace him. Though you may not have done more than the barest press of your lips to his before the maester, you can certainly put your arms around your husband in a grateful hug. There is no more merciful man in Westeros, and now you are married to him. "Thank you, my lord."

Oberyn reaches out and captures your arm. “I meant what I said.” He promises softly, “I will not force you.”

"And I will not be stubborn or willful." They are two things you were called often enough by your mother as a child, but as you understand them to be the least attractive traits possible in a wife, you are glad to make that promise to him here and now. It is a small thing to give in thanks for everything he has done for you and for Raeden.

“That is a shame.” Oberyn huffs, letting go of you and smirking. “I do not care for boring subservience. It tells me you are dim witted.”

The frown on your lips is confusion, but Raeden's hand on your shoulder when you step back is soothing. "He is teasing you, my love," he murmurs quietly when you have the same expression as when you could not teach yourself Dothraki in under a week just from a book.

Oberyn’s chuckle is quiet and he nods in agreement. “I am sure that your day has been exhausting.” He says. “Go. Enjoy your night together and tomorrow we will present ourselves to the entire kingdom.”

"Proudly." Yes, today has been tiring in a way you cannot possibly express, but this man is one worth standing next to with dignity after the way he has helped without hesitation.

He doesn’t watch you withdraw with your lover, turning to Ellaria and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. Ready to resume the activities of earlier and release some of his inner turmoil in the pursuit of pleasure.

******

The room is clean and well appointed, draped in luxurious fabrics with food covering the full length of the table. The bed under the windows could surely fit four but it will hold only you and Raeden tonight, and for that you are so relieved that you feel yourself sag against him when the door shuts behind you.

“I fear I am in a dream.” Raeden murmurs, shocked and bewildered by the turn of events. He had been sure that he would witness, or at the very least hear, his soulmate being claimed by her lawful husband. The loud shout through the door rings out, a call for Cal and Leyth, most likely the whores that he had been talking about.

"If you are, we are sharing it." You reach for him immediately, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in the new robes he has been given.

“It is— he— I—” Raeden shakes his head and holds you close, relaxing for the first time since this horrible trip had begun. It is your wedding night, or day - for it is still light outside. You should be draped on your husband's bed, impaled on his cock, and yet you are here with him. “My love.”

"I am sorry for not telling you my plan before we arrived here." When you look up at him there is such relief in his eyes that you hope forgiveness will be easy. "But if I had told you that my only plan was to marry him for your safety, you would have fought me."

“Yes, I would have.” He can admit that now that the deed is done and you are Oberyn’s wife. With his reputation, no one would believe that you have not consummated your vows. As if on cue, a loud moan sounds out from next door.

“And that will most likely be all we hear for the remainder of our stay in King’s Landing.” What can you do besides shake your head? It is simply a fact that should be accepted, especially when you are so grateful to the prince. “I will choose to prefer it vastly over my mother’s self-important howling.”

“It sounds enthusiastic rather than shrill.” Now that you are away from your mother, he feels a little more confident being critical of her.

“I do not envy whomever Lord Baelish sent to retrieve our things.” If there still are things to retrieve, you are certain that the poor people who arrive to get them will get an earful.

“If there is nothing, I will make sure that every book and gown is replaced.” He promises softly, feeling his body warm up as the sounds from next door get louder.

"You will do no such thing." There is food and wine and a place to rest, and you nudge him over toward the table knowing that neither of you has eaten a speck today. "I will be the one replacing all of your belongings if they are gone. It is my fault that we had to run."

“You are not responsible for your mother.” While it could be argued that holding your tongue would have prevented the situation, he would never tell you to take her abuse. He knows how she picks and picks at you until she finally gets a reaction.

"And fortunately, she no longer has any hold on us." The pitcher of wine is elaborate, and you pour two goblets out to hand him one. "I will be delighted if she is not told where we are today. Seeing her face tomorrow will be well worthwhile."

“It will be an event to remember.” He agrees, taking the wine and barely refraining from draining the cup from how parched he is. Now that you are safe, he is safer, his appetites have returned. “You should eat.”

"So should you." The challenge is there, daring him to say that your health is worth more than his when you both know that it is not. "We will eat together."

“It might be the first full meal we have shared together.” He chuckles. There have been shared treats, breads, but there has never been a point where a complete meal was shared.

"In that case, it is all the more reason to sit down together." It would be simple enough to pretend it is your wedding night with Raeden, like this, and the thought is deceptively easy to slip into. A thing you have wanted so desperately and for so long is more or less at your fingertips.

For the first time, Raeden looks over at the table and his eyes widen. “That is…an impressive table.” He murmurs. Roasted joints of meats and pies are surrounded by bowls of nuts and fresh fruit. “It is a wedding feast.”

"It is." That cannot be disputed, but you look at him with a soft expression on your face. "It is a wedding feast that has been laid just for us."

“I am sorry that it could not be our own.” He guides you over to the seats and pulls one out for you.

"The world has been unfair to us." You sit in the seat he has held out and reach for his hand when he sits down beside you. "A few moments of peace like this one are well deserved. Besides..." The smile on your face is a little crooked and your cheeks warm. "I rather like you in Dornish colors. The gray of the Vale compliments no one."

“Your husband is very generous.” Raeden looks down at the robe and shakes his head. “I have never worn such a fine robe before. I do not understand why he would give it to me.”

He is your husband now, but it is still jarring to hear the words. "Perhaps he simply likes you?" You offer, picking up your glass of wine. "He did say as much." Specifically, he had been blunt about his desire to bed both you and Raeden – together or separately. But that might be too much information for your soulmate.

Raeden frowns slightly, unsure of what you mean by that and uncomfortable with how much that comment pleases him. He simply tilts his head. “No doubt it is because I am your soulmate.”

“I…do not think so,” you admit, looking down into your cup of wine. There is a chance that this may badly embarrass or even offend Raeden but it is a part of your reality now – as evidenced from the moaning in the next room. “The prince’s…appetite…extends beyond the usual expectations.”

He had concluded that, with the decidedly male voice moaning about the Prince’s cock. He had been trying to ignore it, the twitching in his breeches dismissed as nothing more than the reaction to his surroundings and the anticipation of an evening with his soulmate that would be uninterrupted. “I see.”

“I already told him that you are not inclined that way,” you assure him, seeing the utter discomfort in his expression and the way he seems to freeze under the mere suggestion. “Please do not worry.”

“It is nothing to worry about.” Raeden rushes out to reassure you. His eyes sliding towards the door and back to you guiltily.

Wrongly interpreting the expression on his face, you rest your hand over his on the table and try to seem like it is not affecting you. When, in fact, hearing what is going on in the next room is piquing your curiosity quite intently. “We will have to grow used to the sound of it.”

“Yes.” He nods quickly, turning his hand over and squeezing yours. “We will adjust. I am just glad that you are away from your mother. And the prince seems to be a generous man.”

“Much more than his reputation.” The prince is known for voracious appetites of all kinds, but the giggling ladies who spoke of him certainly never spoke of his kind heart. Or at least Lady Margaery never did, and you wonder now if he reserves that kindness only for some. Shaking off the thought for now, you smile and reach for the trenchers that have been left for you to fill from the feast on your table. “Here, my love. We will feast and we will indulge in time together.”

“A night between your thighs is a good night indeed.” Raeden smirks slightly, sure that these errant thoughts of his will leave once he has spent an entire night in your bed.

“Tomorrow morning will be the first morning we have ever woken up together.” And that alone is well worth celebrating, the thought alone making your heart skip a beat. “This new life does have its merits, even if it is not perfect.”

“I cannot believe that many lives are perfect, my love.” He murmurs quietly, thinking about the poor soul who is marrying the king. “You are safe and that is all that matters to me.”

“I could say the same to you.” After all, it’s why you did what you did today. Why you married a man you do not love in order to secure the safety of the one you do. There are, perhaps, worse situations in the world.

“Let us celebrate being free to love one another.” Raeden proposes, wanting to forget about everything but you for now. “I am hungry for food and then I am hungry for you.”

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x f!reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #reader x m!OC #male OC #female reader #male original character #Game of Thrones #soulmate au #arranged marriage

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lesuccube · 7 months

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➚ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 : ᴍᴀʀᴄ ꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ — ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ; ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — ghosts aren't the only ones capable of haunting , sometimes it's the people you love most in the world .

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — angst bug [ read at your own risk ! ]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 — not beta'd , constructive criticism is welcomed . reblogs and comments are appreciated .

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 — 3.8k

sometimes we fly

sometimes we fall

sometimes i feel like we're nothing at all

dream in the light

dance in the dark

you fill the spaces inside of my heart

married for 3 years, dated for 2, you'd think by then you would know a person so well, better than you'd know yourself. but for you? for you it feels like you never knew marc at all. he still looks like your husband, talks and acts like him but at the same time he's not. distant, quiet(er) and cold, so very much unlike the man you had fallen in love with in the beginning. sure he was like that when you first met but you got to know him better, saw the deepest, darkest parts of him and kissed them all.

marc has a certain warmth once you get past his shell, a type of fire that burns bright that not even the rain of his tears nor the floods of his past can put out. he was always tough or rather, time made him tougher. the abuse he faced after randall's death, running away from home because he can no longer handle his mother's beatings eating away at the very core of him. he had hoped joining the marines might help him forget, it didn't. not all the way at least.

the rain of bullets sometimes reminded him of his time at the cave, the torrential downpour that afternoon flooding the cramped hole they were in, roro's desperate pleas for help. every pull on the trigger brings him back to the sounds of a leather belt clutched in his mom's fist as she slams it down on his childish body again and again, spews of profanities and accusations, wanting her youngest child back and it would go on for what felt like an eternity until his father would hold his mother back, physically dragging her away from his curled up form on the floor with welts blooming on his skin, hands pressed to his ears as he sobs repeating the words 'it's not my fault' until he passes out.

life hasn't been kind for marc spector since then… until you.

marc never knew how sunshine felt on his skin until your touch, only the way it burned during his tours or from his mother's hands. didn't recognize warmth until your hugs only the heat of his gun after a mission. he's long since forgotten how spring felt before your laughter reached his ears, he was a desert before he met you.

you were vibrant and brimming with life, a stark contrast to his bleak world of gray's and red's. marc often called you his star, as he is moon knight, he had told you that the moon can never be alone in the night sky if there is even a star that shone next to it. you kissed him breathless after that.

marc loves you, really he does. he still has difficulties expressing himself and often chooses to retreat within his shell whenever he's overwhelmed with emotion, especially the bad ones. but you had learned how to coax him out again, somehow you always knew when to save him from drowning, he thinks you're telepathic. and he had married you because he felt like you were his saving grace, his paradise after all the sins and pain he's caused to those around him.

he doesn't regret it at all, seeing you in white as you walked towards him. you shone like a star, fallen from heaven just to grace his lonesome self with your presence. that night during your wedding, he swore his heart was full and his love for you was endless. it'll never change, nothing will.

but recently, marc keeps on repressing himself. after every mission he comes back to, he becomes like a statue, devoid of any emotion. you've tried to help him as much as you can but he would only shrug you off, grabbing a can of beer before disappearing into the bedroom, not even glancing at the dinner you had prepare for him hours before while waiting for his arrival.

you tell yourself it's fine, he'll come around soon, that he was simply exhausted with the burden he carried as the vigilante moon knight, tired with an invisible god constantly speaking over his shoulder and head.

you tell yourself it's okay. but until how long will this cycle continue? how long has it been since the first time you've convinced yourself that it won't happen again? you don't know, you've lost count after a month of cold shoulders from him.

am i really mine?

are you really yours?

if all your emotions cut straight to my core

times when you cry, i feel it all

whenever you leave me i wait for your call

you are everything i'm living for

the first time marc missed a big occasion, you tried not to think too much about it.

it was your birthday, celebrated in the middle of spring ("fitting", marc has said before when he celebrated it with you for the first time, "because you are an ever blooming garden with so much love to give and yet ask nothing in return even if your flowers are plucked, only pray they'd treat it with kindness.") and he was nowhere to be seen. you weren't even supposed to go out that day, having decided that you would both spend the day in bed, eating cake and watching a game of baseball even if you didn't understand a single thing about the sport.

marc loved it and in turn you did too. but your husband was mia, not in bed or in the kitchen, he wasn't home. only when you checked your phone did you know that he wasn't even in the country.

'in kenya, be back soon. x'

not even a single greeting in his message. the apartment you shared felt cold that day despite the warm sun shining outside the large windows of your bedroom, bathing the space in natural lighting. a stark contrast to how you felt inside.

when he finally came home, two weeks later, he saw you sleeping on the couch. curled up in one of his hoodies and a blanket draped over your form as the tv played quietly in the otherwise silent apartment. kneeling beside you, his fingers brush away the strands getting in the way of your features, the brief gesture rousing you from your slumber as you blink your eyes awake, vision clearing to find your husband in front of you, a little worse for wear but still in one piece.

"hi baby." he greets you softly as you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, "why are you sleeping on the couch? it can't be comfortable." you only sigh as you turn your head to look at him, the skin under your eyes visibly darker, clearly you haven't been sleeping well since he left you while you were asleep two weeks ago.

"you forgot." you told him blankly, running a hand through your hair, combing down the bedhead.

"forgot what baby? i don't— i don't understand." you smiled weakly as you raise your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head there. "my birthday." you whispered, "two weeks ago.

shit, marc thinks to himself. he had gotten so wrapped up with his duty as moon knight, khonshu giving him more and more missions recently that he'd forgotten. never in the five years you've known marc had he missed it since the first time he celebrated your birthday with you, never. until now. "i'm sorry baby, i— i forgot and i got so busy—" you had shushed him, cupping his cheek with your palm. it's okay, was what you had said, there's always next year.

marc knew you'd forgiven him but he doesn't quite think the same way. he carried you back to bed that night, the bags he brought with him forgotten by the door. making it a priority to cuddle you, talk to you until you fall back asleep.

when you woke up the next day, he prepared you breakfast in bed, having woken up early despite his jetlag to run by your favorite café to get you your favorites. he spent the day with you the way he was supposed to, promising to make it up to you.

if you go down

then we go down together

if you hold on

i might just stay forever

if you get hurt

i'll try to make it better

if you go down

then we go down together

the house is silent most of the time, marc's presence haunting every corner of it despite his growing absence. you look around the place again, his favorite mug sitting on the kitchen counter with half of his black coffee still inside. a bunch of postcards thumbtacked and decorating a part of your living room walls, showcasing all the places he's been to ever since he became khonshu's moon knight. his favorite cap was still hooked on your bedroom door's knob, you keep forgetting to hang it in your shared wardrobe whenever you cleaned the place up.

there were so many traces of him living with you and yet he was like a ghost. you rarely see him these days, even more so at night when the god would demand of his time.

never had you been so jealous of a bird before.

sometimes we're right

sometimes we're wrong

sometimes the lines just never been drawn

nights when we fight

we strike a chord

and then we forget what we've been fighting for

the pattern continued for months and the days began to turn colder with autumn right around the corner. marc was beginning to miss bigger events and moments in your shared life. some of those would lead to larger arguments whenever you'd confront him about it, never screaming at each other but you had both definitely said a lot of things you regret but don't take back. well, marc doesn't. not like he hasn't even been communicating much with you anyways.

marc never apologizes after each fight, you do though. you'd press yourself to his back when you're both settled in bed, holding on to the back of his shirt as you whisper apologies, murmuring how you don't want to fight with him, you never do.

"i just miss you. you've been gone more and for much longer periods of time it feels like you're never here at all." you admitted weakly, sniffling as your emotions come bubbling at the surface again but you're exhausted, previous arguments draining your energy. "it's hard when you're not around."

he's missed so much in your lives it hurt, especially when you had lost your father during the fall, your only family, and he wasn't there to comfort you. during the whole wake, you sobbed in the arms of your godmother, your heart cracked and torn at the edges at the loss of the man who had raised you, the man who had walked you down the aisle to meet your currently missing husband and it broke you.

you lost one man and yet in that week and more, it felt like you mourned for two.

marc didn't show up at the three day service, not even for the funeral. all your calls went straight to voicemail and your texts left on read. whether he just doesn't bother to reply or was blatantly ignoring you, you'll never know but he was met with an empty apartment when he came back after another mission by the ancient god, you had chosen to sleep at your childhood home, yearning for your deceased father as you wept in his old bedroom.

the following weeks after that, you'd given marc the cold shoulder, much like he does to you until you broke, unable to stand the distance it sets between you. moments of love few and far in between fights and continual disappearances but it always ends the same way, with you in tears as marc holds you in his arms, whispers of empty promises gluing back pieces of you he doesn't even know he broke. a temporary fix.

lay on the floor

sleep in your arms

pausing the world to stay right where we are

close all the blinds

lock all the doors

things fall apart and i'm wanting you more

you are everything i'm living for

the final straw was when he missed your third wedding anniversary one winter evening.

you had both sat down and talked about this weeks ago, marc finally agreeing to make up for the times he's been gone and fighting when he's around. you were able to snag a reservation at a really popular restaurant downtown, buying yourselves a fitting outfit for the day as you had wanted to make it special. you secretly bought a small gift for marc too, nervous as you hid it away until said date rolled around.

when your anniversary came, marc, as per routine by now, wasn't in bed. he's already left for the day doing what he needed to do and promised you the night before that he'll be there in time to pick you up for dinner.

well... the hours ticked by fast, nighttime falling just around the corner amd snow beginning to settle on the concrete streets and you were dressed to the nines and warm, although it was already approaching quarter to eight and your reservation was at 8:20, the journey from your apartment to the restaurant taking at least 20 minutes if traffic wasn't too bad.

you arrived at the packed restaurant with three more minutes until your reservation was to be passed to someone else, the host guiding you to your seat, a table for two, though it was only you present. your server followed not too far, handing you a menu to which you had ordered a bottle of some red wine, hoping to ease your nerves with it.

it wasn't until it was almost 10 in the evening when marc arrived, his curls no longer staying slicked back and his tux looking like it was put on in a rush with his tie knotted loosely and crooked around his neck, his shoulders wet with melted snow and a wrinkled bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. but when he approached the host, stating his reservation, she looked at him with pity before shaking her head.

"i'm sorry mr. spector but your reservation ended thirty minutes ago, your wife arrived and paid for the bill on the bottle of wine she had ordered but that was about it."

he had thanked her before nearly dashing out of the restaurant, flowers still clutched in hand as he hailed a cab home. he ran a hand through his curls, muttering curses to himself throughout the ride back and ignoring the egyptian god in his head.

when he turned his keys in the lock, the whole place was dark, the heels you've worn for the night thrown haphazardly along with your coat and bag, all these items trailing to your shared bedroom.

he creeps in quietly, toeing off his shoes as he sits down next to your curled up form under the blankets. you didn't even take your dress off, only washing your face off the makeup you'd carefully applied but there was still some mascara trailing down your cheeks, it was obvious that you'd been crying.

his heart squeezes tight in his chest, guilt eating at his core. he knows he hasn't been the best husband as of late, dealing with a lot of things all at once with khonshu and all the goddamn missions he's been sending him off to in god knows where most of the time. but it didn't excuse the fact that this was something you mutually planned, talked about in the previous weeks.

god he knew how excited you were about it, your face lighting up for the first time in a very long while that he's seen and now it feels like he's been punched in the stomach— no it felt much worse than that seeing that not only did he stand you up for a date, your third wedding anniversary at that, he had gone and let you starve and made you cry yourself to sleep.

he's not sure that making up for this the next day could fix the damage he's already caused but he was going to try. he swore to himself he would...

had it not been for khonshu meaning him take on another mission, hunting down ammit's worshippers that very same night.

and you were left all alone yet again.

if you go down

then we go down together

if you hold on

i might just stay forever

you couldn't stand it anymore.

you love marc, god knew just how much you loved that man but good the past half year, it felt like you were married to a ghost and you don't want to spend another waking moment with him gone.

you don't know where marc was this time, long since updated you where he's been going, only saying when he'll be home. and he was supposed to be home tonight so you waited.

you sat on your living room couch, glancing around the room for the faint traces your husband was still with you, a ghost that haunts your memories, taking up space in your home even though he wasn't even around much anymore. you don't know what hurt more, the fact that you're married yet you two act like two strangers living under the same roof or that he's treating you like you were the ghost, lingering around your shared home and watching his every movement during the little time he spends there.

you're hurt, so fucking hurt it makes you numb. and that hurts even more because in all honesty, you want to cry and scream and punch, claw at his chest and make him see things your way but fuck if you weren't exhausted, tired from keeping a failing marriage alive. you don't regret being with marc, but you hate how much he's changed since then.

you sat there and waited as the hours passed by you, the moon rising and you begin to hear the familiar jingle of his keys turning the locks of the front door.

you didn't mean to turn it into a fight but you're drained and your patience was running thin and marc, god. he was infuriating with that cold shoulder. ignoring your pleas to talk and heading to the kitchen to grab a cold beer. it took all of you not to smash that metal can away from his hands.

"if you would just listen to me marc! i'm begging you! you're out more than you're home and you don't come back until it's deep into the night and i'm already asleep, jesus i don't even see you when i wake up!"

"i have duties—"

"yes i know, you do but baby, i'm not asking you for much okay?" your voice cracks as the dam cracks and fractures, all the things you've bottled up and ignored pushing against the walls in giant waves, testing the limits of your emotions.

"i'm not asking you to stop what you do... just look my way every now and then. is that— am i asking for too much to want my husband to come home to me?"

he sets the can down on the kitchen counter, the dim lights above the counter shines over him, casting a dark shadow over his face and he nearly looks unrecognizable with that unreadable expression on his face.

and for a moment it scared you that you were no longer speaking to your marc at all.

"all i ask, marc, is to set a time for me too. god knows i've been patient and i try to understand you as best as i can because i know you carry a heavy burden, okay? i know, but marc, does it hurt for once to be here? to be with me? because why the fuck are we even married if you're just going to act like i don't goddamn exist at all?!"

he stays quiet, eyes still trained on you as the tears start to fall, the dam beginning to fissure and break, the waves of hurt pushing and pushing and pushing until it shatters the intricately built wall you created.

"i miss you." you whisper, "i've missed you." you stress as you run a hand through your locks, turning on your heel to sit at the living room couch, burying your face in your hands as you take deep breaths, too fucking tired of being the understanding wife to a husband who was never around anymore, not in your time of need and not even when you hit rock bottom.

was this even the marc who had laughed so warmly at you as you both danced under the night sky, the one who would show up at every date with a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers, was this even the same marc that said i do as he lifted the veil from your face just to kiss you like he's never before? because he sure as hell doesn't act like it anymore.

for once it's you who disappears, when the clock strikes 2 in the morning and marc had fallen deep asleep, your own bags packed the weeks before that lead up to this.

for once it was him who woke up to an empty bed and an even emptier apartment. most of your clothes gone from their hangers in the closet, your toothbrush gone from the bathroom sink along with your tray of skincare products, and with your disappearance did marc feel empty, a part of him missing as you left.

for once, marc begins to live here in your shared apartment again, looking around at the final traces of you lingering within these walls. now he lives with the ghost of you, haunting him through dreams and memories, his every waking and sleeping moment a nightmare the longer you stay gone.

for once, it's marc who deals with the loss of a loved one. and you're not there to comfort him and keep him from sinking, he drowns in the waters you've left from your broken dam of hurt, flooding his life and his heart with a burden much heavier than anything he's felt before.

you haunt him, like he used to haunt you. you went down and left, taking all the love you had with you. leaving behind the shell of the man that marc spector used to be. and now he was sinking too, drowning in your absence, drinking your ghost away.

if you get hurt

i'll try to make it better

if you go down

then we go down together

#👤 — user : kira #📂 — file : marc spector #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight imagine #moon knight angst #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector imagine #marc spector angst #Spotify

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strawberrystepmom · 8 months

Text

itto x f!reader. reader is used as bait by her superstitious village but she runs into an oni unlike any other. this is a repost from my old blog. wc 1.5k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune!

A tall wooden stake feels solid but otherwise unremarkable pressed against your spine as you feel your father knot rope around your wrists, trapping your hands behind you and rendering you immobile. He yanks at the knot, pulling you back against the wood, before dropping it and your arms relax.

“You’re saving us all.”

His attempt at comfort comes in the form of his voice from where he stands behind you and you swallow the thickened saliva that fills your mouth. There’s no way for you to fully stave off your nausea but you’re determined to try.

You will not let these people see you cry. Pointing your chin straight ahead, you set your jaw and blink once as the denizens of your humble village stand scattered through the brush and dirt before you. How long will they stand and watch, you wonder? Will any of them think better of offering you to an oni?

As the first of the group turns on his heel and walks away with his children and wife following, you know the decision is final. Glancing at the dispersing crowd, you see your own parents glancing at you from directly below. You tip your head all the way down, chin against your chest, to look at them. Perhaps they’d really see you for the first time since they allowed this to happen but their eyes glance away from you and toward the dirt below.

It was decided four nights ago that you would be an offering to the oni your parents and everyone else had convinced themselves was terrorizing your village. Grain supplies dwindled one evening, a cow was found mutilated the next.

Superstition has always been one of the most important traditions in your village. Fables have always been taken as truth, written word from someone up above. Even as a child you scoffed at how ludicrous it all sounded especially when you were able to get your hands on books and other reading materials from the city.

You wish you could go back and tell a younger version of you that all that reading would lead you to this moment, dignity abandoned as your feet and arms are bound and restrained. No better than a bait worm on a hook.

“We didn’t want this for you.”

A bitter giggle bubbles to the surface as you pull against the restraints at your wrist, still glancing down at the two people who should have fought for you. Another reminder you aren’t the child they wanted, someone meek and mild. Someone who would’ve been happier staying close to the pack and never straying.

“Too late now, I suppose.”

The flippant tone of your words doesn’t surprise your parents but it does make your mother reach up and grab your ankle. You fight revulsion as she looks up at you with sad eyes, the sun setting over the horizon. She hopes you can feel her regret in her touch but all you feel is the weight of a touch you’ll never experience again.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” she says and you say nothing, pointing your face back toward the horizon to await the terrible fate before you. The deeper the color of the sky becomes, the closer you are.

You wonder when that “life flashing before your eyes” feeling will kick in but for now, your eyes feel heavy and you shut them for a moment. Perhaps you’ll be killed as you sleep - gently welcoming your afterlife while you dream of another one you could have lived. Maybe you would have been able to travel or teach or grow - you have always been a wild vine crawling across the trellis in a garden too small.

Feeling a warm tear cut a track down your cheek as you close your eyes, you sniff once and let it fall, helpless to wipe it away. Night has fallen and so has quiet over the forest floor. Clamping your eyes shut, you try to force yourself to rest until you hear the crunch of footsteps approaching.

“That old lady was toughe-,” you hear the enthusiastic tone of the voice die down as the person it belongs to approaches you. Peeling your eyes open, you spot bright red oni horns and flinch. Tears fall hot down your face and you are unable to stop them.

This is the end that awaits you.

“Wait, why are you here?”

The oni is tall and broad, not nearly as fearsome as you’d been taught to expect, but intimidating just based on sheer size alone. Your eyes dance over the markings on his chest and face and you gag and sniffle as bile rises in your throat. His brows are knit in concern, amber eyes blazing as he peeks around the back of the pole you are tied to.

“Just kill me already!”

Your shout makes the large oni hop away from you, his mouth downturned in a frown.

“Kill you?”

A frustrated groan leaves you as you begin to wiggle against your restraints for the first time. Maybe you aren’t as resigned to your fate as you thought.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” You spit, words full of venom. “Taking me as your sacrifice so you’ll leave my village alone?”

The man looks a bit stricken by your words, brows furrowing deeper as he approaches you and you thrash against your restraints with strength you didn’t realize you were capable of.

“I’m not that kind of oni,” his words don’t offer much comfort as you continue to cry and panic while restrained. “Here, let me…uh…get you down.”

Whatever confidence the oni contains is being withheld for now, you notice, as he gingerly reaches for his belt and pops off a utility knife. Gasping, you look toward the sky as he cuts the rope around your feet first. “Man, whoever tied this did a good job.”

“It was my father,” you snip back and you see the concerned man turn his face toward you once more. He’s handsome, you think. If this were a different circumstance maybe you’d be less afraid of his kind eyes.

“Your father did this to you?”

A bitter chuckle, mimicking the one you gave your mother, leaves you again. “Yes. To keep the village safe.”

The man shakes his head and peeks behind the pole, running the sharp blade of his knife against your restraints just enough to begin cutting them. He watches as the rope frays just enough to let you wiggle your wrists but not enough to send you tumbling to the ground.

“Promise you won’t hit me if I have to help you down?”

You nod and sniffle and the man severs the last of the fibers keeping your hands restrained. Flinching again as he reaches up and grabs you, the urge to kick and thrash becomes strong as you’re hauled over his almost unbelievably large shoulder but you promised. You’ve never broken a promise and don’t intend to start now.

“‘Kay, gonna place you on solid ground!”

Stumbling as your feet touch solid ground, you look up at the twinkling stars overhead. Without thinking, you open your mouth before the stranger can break the silence between the two of you.

“Are you going to eat me now?”

He laughs, thunderously, head tipping toward the sky. You laugh along awkwardly, watching as he grasps his midsection and nearly doubles over. There’s no way to tell what has tickled him so deeply but it must have been something you said. Bunching your hands in the threadbare shirt you wear, you wait for him to wipe a tear from his eye and catch his breath.

“Arataki Itto isn’t eating anyone tonight but,” he says with a proud look on his face, finger pointing toward the sky. “I can escort you home.”

Your face falls and you laugh as hysterically as he just was, wiping your own tears off of your face as you cry and fall to your knees. Burying your face in your hands, you listen as the man awkwardly shuffles from one foot to another.

“Arataki Itto, they tried to kill me. Why would I want to go back?”

Your hands muffle your words but you feel the air shift as Itto kneels in front of you, hand clapping your shoulder.

“I guess you’ll just have to come back to Inazuma City with me then.”

The finality in his voice shakes you. He had another choice - to leave and let you skulk back to the village of people who wanted to come back to your bones in the morning, but this is the one he’s committing to. You’re touched but you can’t show it after the events of the day, emotionally exhausted.

“I have a bunch of friends who will love you!”

Itto squeezes your shoulder and you open your eyes to his bright grin, those amber eyes gleaming with mischief and despite the circumstances, you offer a subdued smile in return.

Perhaps there is adventure in your future after all.

#itto x reader #arataki itto x reader #kendall writes #oniverse

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lvlystars · 10 months

Text

goodbye — m.sn

pairing. minatozaki sana x gn!reader

genre. angsty :(

summary. how long did you think you can keep this from her?

warnings. reader's really bad at handling the relationship, alcohol consumption

wc. 2.8k

glass was shattered everywhere on the ground. the furniture around the apartment was thrown around, and the two of you were on opposite sides of the room. sana was sitting on the floor, her head leaning on her knees that were closed in on her chest. you were standing near the balcony, the glass of wine in your hand hanging off your fingers lightly, half empty.

it was no use, holding onto this entangled mess of a relationship.

“i’m, uh…gonna take a walk. outside.” you stay silent, pursing your lips as you hear the shuffling of her footsteps. slow, forced, dragged. the front door opens, then closes. you sigh, brushing your hand through your hair, your brain racking over what had just happened. the hurt and hatred you saw in sana’s eyes as you remembered what had gone down in this room burned your thoughts. your heart aching at how badly you had hurt her.

but then again, you willingly did it. it was your own choice. it’s all your fault.

“who is she.” sana speaks up. you hummed in response, confused at the sudden question. you looked up to look into her bloodshot eyes.

your heart leaps into your throat when you see the polaroid in her hand. the solid evidence of what you’ve been doing behind her back.

you cheated on her.

in the polaroid, your lips were pressed on the brunette’s, and you were smiling into it too. your hands laid on her hips, pulling her closer to you as her arms were draped over your shoulders.

“she clearly isn’t me, y/n. who is this?” sana croaks out, tears filling her eyes. you were at a loss for words. how were you supposed to get out of this? how were you supposed to explain yourself? tell her what you’ve been doing?

you open and close your mouth, unable to find the words to say. you couldn’t think of anything, so you stayed silent.

“i need an explanation, y/n! anything! don’t just stay quiet!” she sobs, and you wince. you can hear the hurt in her voice, the distress you had caused her was etched in her angelic face, and knowing how she was, you knew that she wouldn’t get over this well.

you move forward, in an attempt to hold her down and explain yourself, but she immediately takes a step back from you. from that second you knew. you knew where this conversation was going to end up, and it wasn’t going to be with you both happily cuddling, which made your insides twist up in regret.

you sit yourself down on the couch, leaning your head back as you groan, closing your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself of the growing headache that was making itself evident with each ticking second. you massage your temples, but as always, it doesn’t work.

if sana were here, she’d whine about how you’re always overworking yourself, and complain about how you’d never take care of yourself and never get rest. despite the constant pestering, she’d always whip out the hot and cold compresses, ensure you had tylenol and tuck you away to sleep. but alas, the said person isn’t in the room right now, so you just wallow up in your pitiful sorrows and battle the headache on your own.

why did you even cheat? ah, the million-dollar question. why.

you don’t even know how it started, but it just did. that girl came into your life, made you feel things that even sana didn’t make you feel, and you were immediately addicted. again and again, you kept going back to her during the day, then came back home to your girlfriend. days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. 5 of them.

of course, you felt guilty. the guilt ate you up at night when you felt sana cuddle into your side. knowing what you were doing behind her back killed you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. the girl was just too good to lose. and so, you held onto her. you kept her as your secret link.

as long as sana didn’t know, you wouldn’t hurt her, right?

but one night, the girl invited you to her birthday party, and of course, you couldn’t refuse. but how did you manage with sana?

easy. you lied.

“why you dressed up?” sana asks, making you jump as you scramble around the room to find your best shoes.

“uhm, it’s…a party! one of my…coworkers got promoted. so we, uh, celebrating!” sana then pouts, walking into the room and starts adjusting the small things in your outfit, and you sigh, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“i’m sorry, baby. it’s employees only. i would bring you if i could, but the company’s strict.” you kiss her forehead, making her smile before tapping her own lips. you chuckle lightly before pecking her lips and walking out the door to your shared bedroom.

“your shoes are on the rack, by the way!” sana calls out, and you yell back a thank you before hastily slipping on the shoes and bolting out the door.

you feel your phone vibrate. you immediately pull out your phone, and your breath hitches at the caller ID.

“h-”

“FUCK YOU!” you were taken aback at her harsh tone, and you stayed silent, seeing if she would say anything else.

“i…trusted you! i…believed you! was i not…a good enough…partner? friend? person?” you can tell that sana was drunk through the way her speech was a little slurred and mumbled, and it pained you to realize that she had turned to drinking to make her pain go away.

you decided to stay quiet again, knowing that she wouldn’t register whatever you said right now. her memory was terrible when she drinks. that’s how you both ended up together in the first place.

tears sting your eyes when you hear sana’s soft cries over the phone, and you wanted to apologize. you wanted to apologize to her over and over again. you wanted to hold her close to you and stroke her soft hair as she falls asleep in your arms, hoping that you both would wake up tomorrow morning, still happy together.

“i hate you! i hate you so much, y/n. i hate you for making me feel like this. i hate you for making me feel so…worthless. used. it…it hurts! my heart hurts so much!” you bite your lip in an attempt to hold back your own sobs, closing your eyes as tears rolled down your cheeks. sana continues to ramble on, and you cut the call, unable to listen to her whines. you wanted to beat yourself up so badly for what you had done. after a few minutes of crying to yourself, you finally decide to get up and wipe your tears. you grab the keys to your apartment lying down on the coffee table and rush out of the apartment, knowing full well where she is.

as you feel the crisp winds of october dry away your tears, you are suddenly flooded with all the walks and small talks you both spent together, hand-in-hand in the most ungodly hours. usually, you’d have those kinds of nights after you both had sex. it was just…calming. but now that it was just you walking alone, it felt somewhat empty. insipid.

soon, you reached the entrance of the bar you both always went to after a long week. as you entered, you saw the waitress, who seemed to recognize you, and she motions towards the back of the empty bar, where you noticed a familiar head of black hair lying down on the table, sound asleep. tears sting your eyes as you walked closer to her, knowing that she was in this state because of you. that she was hurting to this point because of your selfishness.

you muster up the courage to shake her, trying to wake sana up, but she doesn’t seem to respond. you notice her beeping phone beside her, the caller ID reading “my sweetheart”. she fell asleep as she was yelling at you. typical sana.

you sigh out as you lift her into your arms, opting to just carry her on your back the entire way home.

“hey, i can drive you both to your place?” you look up to see the waitress from before standing in front of you.

“i’d appreciate that.”

—

you sigh and look down at your lap. sana was still sleeping, her soft snores filling up the car as her chest rose and fell. you couldn’t help but choke up at the thought of leaving her. she was like your world. you’d sacrifice a ton for over. fuck, you’d even take your life to save hers. you wanted to beat yourself up for cheating on her, let alone even thinking about cheating.

“our apartment’s right there.” you point out, and the waitress, whose you learned that her name was chaeyeon, nods before pulling into the main entrance of your building.

“you know, she seemed pretty hurt over something. you guys fought?” chaeyeon asks, helping you carry sana out of the car. you look down, feeling guilty and embarrassed about the reason behind sana’s state.

“i, uh, cheated on her. and she found out.” chaeyeon’s face just shows that she’s disappointed, and you just look away in shame before walking forward towards the elevator, pushing the ‘up’ button and stepping back.

“listen, i don’t know anything about your guys’ relationship, but seeing how fucked up she was at the bar, you probably hurt her really bad.” you can practically hear the disappointment in her tone, making you smile bitterly.

“i don’t think she’ll even forgive you for it. like, if you do end up staying with her despite what you’ve done, your relationship will never be the same. it will probably feel forced.” chaeyeon reasons as the elevator door opens. you sigh out, nodding in agreement as you walk and press the button for your floor.

“i hate to say this but the best and only option for you both is to break up.” you suck in a sharp breath, trying to deny reality, but she was right. the only best option for the both of you to heal and become happy again was to split. staying together would just cause the both of you pain, there weren’t going to be any more happy moments. only little conversations that would feel forced and empty.

tears stung your eyes when you looked down at sana, who was still asleep, and you sniffled, hastily wiping your tears away. the elevator dings, signaling that you were on your floor, and you let chaeyeon know that you can take care of it from there. you bid her goodbye before she leaves, leaving you alone with sana.

grunting as you pushed the door open, you tried to quietly bring sana in, trying not to wake the poor girl up. once you made it through the door, you tried to hold up sana in front of you, but instead, the girl flops into your chest, sighing happily as she wraps her arms around your waist, mumbling about you being ‘a very nice pillow’. you chuckle bitterly, holding her up once again before you lift her and carry her to your shared bedroom despite her small whiny protests at putting her down.

finally, after some time, you managed to tuck her in bed, and instead of crawling into bed beside her like you normally do, you make your way towards the guest bedroom with all your night clothes and belongings. no matter how badly you wanted to sleep beside her, you knew that eventually, when she’s sober again, she’d break down once again and end up in the same state as she is now.

once you finally freshen up, you tuck yourself into bed, the headache still evident as you look over at the clock beside the bed, reading 03:45. you just simply sigh as you look up at the ceiling, waiting for the exhaustion to hit you so you can just sleep for the rest of the night, but it never does. your mind is still racing, unable to calm down from everything that is going on around you. so much had happened in one night, you wanted to just disappear off the face of the earth for at least 1 day to just get a grip on yourself.

you toss and turn, the minutes dragging along slowly through the night as you shut your eyes closed, trying to avoid the annoying buzz in your ears. trying everything you could, you were on the verge of just bursting into tears. you just wanted to curl into a ball and just quietly cry to yourself until the sun rises. you couldn’t go to your room, sana was sleeping, and you doubt she would love to wake up to you sleeping beside her, let alone be present in the room with her, after what had happened between the two of you.

listening to the soft traffic below your apartment, you feel yourself slowly feeling drowsy, the darkness around the room blending in with the darkness behind your eyelids as you slowly blink, nodding off to sleep.

—

you feel the sun from the outside shine on you, making you cover your eyes as you adjust to the brightness of the room. slowly getting up, you look over to the clock on the nightstand beside the bed, reading ‘9:20’.

the smell of brewing coffee hits your nose as you get out of bed, walking to the kitchen to grab a cup to wake you up for the day. grudgingly dragging your feet across the hall, you smile as the smell of the caffeinated drink grows stronger, the scent waking you up alone.

once you enter the kitchen, though, you walk into an empty kitchen, the coffee done with the cup having a small sticky note on it.

something in the pit of your stomach tells you to go over and check your bedroom, and so you do. you immediately rush over to your room and fling the door open, your heart sinking when you see a nicely made bed, not a trace of anyone sleeping in it.

you feel your heartbeat quicken as you walk over to your shared closet, hoping it wasn’t what you thought, but to your dismay, you entered the walk-in to see one half filled with your clothes alone, and the other half completely empty.

no.

tears sting your eyes as you rush out of your room, running over to the now slightly cooled down coffee waiting at your countertop, the sticky note still stuck to the cup.

you grab the sticky note, not caring if the coffee was going cold as you tried to slow down your breathing, unfolding the piece of paper and immediately noticing the tear stains on the paper. gathering your thoughts, you finally bring yourself to read the letter.

hi y/n.

i guess you could tell by the silence of the apartment that i left.

i’ll just get straight to the point because i have to leave as soon as i write this note.

despite the pounding headache this morning, i managed to think it through and i’ve come to a decision.

i’m breaking up with you.

you hurt me. badly. owning up to your mistakes is one thing. maybe i would’ve talked it out with you.

but the way you just stayed completely silent as i kept asking you? i couldn’t bring myself to stay with you any longer. it hurt me, y/n. it hurts that you didn’t try to explain yourself, because in my eyes, you seemed like you wanted to let me go. you didn’t care if i left or not. it was as if you stopped loving me. long ago.

all the sweet nothings you used to whisper in my ear, were they really coming from your heart? when you hugged me every morning as i made coffee for the both of us, was that all for show? when you kissed me so passionately, with so, so, so much affection and love, were you really thinking of me? or were you thinking of her?

all those precious little moments i held dear to my heart. all those little actions that i adored about you, did you really have me on your mind? or was i that brunette in your eyes? did you really see me as minatozaki sana, or that bitch from your workplace that you cheated on me with for 5 fucking months?

i took anything that was mine in the apartment, so don’t worry about my scent lingering around the space, or contacting me about anything left in the place.

i also will be changing my number, so you don’t have to worry about ‘accidentally’ butt dialling me and talking with me for 4 hours straight while i’m at work.

that’s it from me, i guess. thank you for being apart of my life, and thank you for helping me learn a lesson from this relationship.

goodbye, y/n.

tags 🏷️ –

@star1117-archives @kyeomyun @seonghwas-lighter @jaehunnyy @leo-seonghwa

networks 🔗 –

@preciousillusions-net @cacaokpop-fics @k-labels

TDNG WORKS

send an ask or drop a comment if you want to be added to my general taglist!

#🏃‍♀️ — nini's tracking thingy #🍭 — tdng #🐹 — sana #k labels #preciousillusionsnet #cacaokpop #twice #twice sana #sana minatozaki #sana x reader #sana angst #twice angst #twice x reader #twice imagines

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clovermarigold · 16 days

Text

Hot water bottle

Requests open!

GN Reader x Sova (Sasha)

~~~~~~~~~

Your teeth grit as you pulled even more of the covers around you, careful not to move; lest you move onto the colder spots of the sheets.

In hindsight, perhaps agreeing to go to the middle of nowhere in Russia, IN FALL, despite having never experienced so much as snow in your life was a poor decision. Ah, the things we do for love.

You had been with Sasha for a little over a year now when he suggested you join him on his visit to his grandmother. And stupidly you agreed with little thought. It's not that you regret meeting his Babushka, she was a wonderful woman who you were ecstatic to find out Sasha didn't exaggerate about.

That being said.... Now, lying in bed and struggling to fall asleep despite wearing your thickest set of PJs and under two sets of covers. You would be lying if you said you weren't a little tempted to hop on the soonest flight back home.

A laugh brought your attention away from your desperate mission for warmth. "Can you breathe under all of that?" Sasha stood in the doorway, back from his trip to the store. You were certainly a sight to behold, a cocoon of mismatching fabrics and quilts lying stock still on your half of the bed.

"Better to suffocate than to freeze to death" Sasha frowned, stripping out of his heavy coat and into some lighter sleep ware. You had no idea how he could do it. Sleep in THIS weather in nothing but a thin loose white shirt and boxers. Sure, he grew up here, but surely even he had his limits.

"I'm sorry" you huffed a laugh from your blanket fortress, momentarily forgetting the cold as you got a glimpse of his toned back. "Don't apologize, I agreed to come".

He smiled, walking around the bed to his side, "Is there room for me under there?". You whined at the idea of having to expose yourself to the cold even momentarily, "fine".

You hissed when the covers opened, cool air hitting your skin, only to relax when his warm body pressed against yours. Sasha chuckled at the way you melted, "better, да?". "How the hell are you this warm" you quickly turned over to leech off of his heat, throwing your arms and legs around him, the blankets beginning to fill with insulated warmth.

"You'll get used to it eventually" your eyes widened. "Oh no. Absolutely not. Don't get me wrong, I love your babushka. But I don't have it in me to do more than a week at a time! So don't get any ideas, we are not settling down here".

Sasha raised a brow "You plan on settling with me?". You went quiet for a moment, embarrassed. You and Sasha had never really talked about the long-term aspects of your relationship. But it wasn't like you didn't see yourself with him in the future. Quite the opposite, Sasha was easily the best partner you had ever had. Kind, attentive, caring, sweet. Though you could live without his unwavering stubbornness when it came to making you exercise.

"Well, we've been together a year now, and I just met your babushka. So, I would think we were...." you cut yourself off not wanting to say anything stupid.

Sasha pulled you out of your thoughts pressing his lips to your head. "I would love that". His arms wrapped themselves around your waist burying his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Well.... maybe a summer home wouldn't be a bad idea" who were you kidding, it was terrible. But it made him happy, and if you didn't love that. Because you loved him.

Ah, the things we do for love

#valorant sova #sova #sova x reader #valorant

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ultradelusional · 10 months

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Stop you're loosing me! Miguel o'hara x wife reader pt3 - "Afterglow"

basically the last part of my stop you're loosing me series where you and miggy break up and get back together pt 1 and 2 are on my profile so go read those if you havent! They’re both on my profile @ultradelusional

•

(Readers pov)

you had been trying to forget Miguel. Trying to forget the way he used to hold you, the way he'd make you feel safe, the way he'd kiss you in the middle of the night. no one can quite forget the people they're married to. As you and Miguel where still legally married. The past 4 days back in your dimension had been filled with people from the spider society visiting and comforting you. Jess especially.

Everyone who visited kept trying to get you to move on but fact is you couldn’t. Miguel your husband, your everything. He hadn’t even tried reaching out which was the worst part which made you ponder the fact that this could be the end of your marriage even more.

(Miguel’s pov)

after that dream of you Miguel regretted everything more than he already did. but as peter b had said he was thinking more rationally. so Miguel set Lyla to locate where in the multiverse you where and when she located you off he went. “Lego spiderman you’re in charge while I’m gone” Miguel said to Lego spider man as he disappeared through the portal to your dimension.

(Reader’s pov)

As you where laying in bed in the bedroom of your apartment in your dimension things being eerily quiet. As only a monorail speeding past your window was the only sound. A portal suddenly appeared right on the floor of your bedroom and a tall figure you knew all too well stepped out.

“Miguel?” You said horsely as you noticed how the past 4 days had changed him. He was skinnier, thick dark eye-bags crowded themselves under his deep brown eyes as the whites of his eyes where slightly red from crying. You also noticed a slight stubble on his face from a lack of self care. His brown wavy locks also had a few steaks of grey. “Wow I guess me leaving him had done some…changes” you thought yourself guilty of his negative changes.

“Mi amour I…” Miguel started to say he knew he had to say something meaningful to get you back. Back into his arms and back in his life.

“Hey it’s all me, In my head I’m the one who burned this down but it’s not what I meant sorry that I hurt you I promise I don’t wanna do this to you and I regret everything” he stated tears bellowing out of his eyes.

“Miguel I-“ you started to say before he cut you off

“Don’t. You don’t need to accept an apology. 4 days ago was supposed to be me and Martha’s anniversary that’s why I kept thinking about her in the days leading up. It would’ve been our 10th anniversary.”

“Oh Miguel…I’m so sorry I didn’t know that my love you never talk about your past life.” You say walking up to him cupping his face and wiping his tears away from his cheeks.

“I’m truly sorry y/n, you’re my wife and I never ever regret marrying you, you where the one who lifted my haze of grief and let the light in” Miguel says as he hesitantly kisses your hand. “You’re my light my love, my everything, tu mi vida” he’s now balling his eyes out as he chokes out “will you let me back in? Will you be my wife again?” He says pulling out your wedding ring.

“Oh great heavens yes!!” You say tears coming to your eyes as he slips on your ring fitting perfectly as it always has.

“Let’s go back home” Miguel says picking you up in his arms as you both go through the portal back to HQ “new dress?” He remarks noticing the same green dress from his dream

“Why yes” you reply as the portal engulfs you both and Miguel leaning in for a passionate kiss

The kiss seems to last forever as both your lips fit perfectly in one another after being separate for so so long. you both don’t notice you’re already back at the spider society and many of your friends are watching you two kiss.

“EWWW” hobie calls out making you and Miguel’s lips break apart both your cheeks flushing bright pink with embarrassment.

OK GUYS THATS THE END HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!

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anticipatedexhale · 2 years

Text

What Were We All Along? (Part.2)

Summary:you always thought that it was too good to be true, the outcast dating the popular cheerleader,how cliche.But after an event you find that your theory was correct maybe after all it was too good to be true.

Warnings: sad reader, angst to fluff, cursing, a lot of feelings, this is a part 2 to my previous fic,a really stupid rushed ending, i hate this so much help, um kissing? Idk

part 1.

The last couple of days were hell for both you and Eddie, Eddie has tried multiple times apologizing yet he never got the forgiveness he wanted.

Well mainly because he was sending you gifts, not talking to you like a normal person would which made you even madder, if he so badly wanted your forgiveness shouldn't be here right now standing in front of you explaining?.

You sighed, grabbing the 100th flower bouquet he sent. Staring at it you noticed something odd about it.

A note, a note is what you saw, you slowly held it into your hand looking at the writing. You immediately knew it was Eddies handwriting, it was messy just like him.

"Meet me at our spot at 8 tonight please -Eddie" his name had that stupid heart beside it, you were thinking of not going, but you knew that he wouldn't give up, Knowing Eddie he'd probably bring you the world at your feet just for forgiveness.

"I think it's sweet he's doing that" Nancy pulled you out of your trance, sneaking behind you.

"You should go, really i know what he did is stupid but you can't keep avoiding him your whole life" it's pure logic really she was right and you knew that, but you couldn't get yourself to look at those pretty brown eyes not after what happened.

"You really think i should go?" Your voice is filled with genuine curiosity, she only hummed "Trust me if you don't you'll regret it." That's all she said before leaving you alone in the room with nothing but your brain making up so many scenarios.

But of course life goes on and 8pm was slowly arriving. The sound of your clock ticking broke the tense silence.

Soon enough you had the guts to go get dressed and head to the spot.

Once you arrived it was already beginning to get dark the sun saying its last goodbyes as it painted the sky a red-orange color.

You noticed the boy with frizzy curly hair running around in circles nervously waiting, obviously waiting for you.

"Hi" you said, his eyes immediately shot up,you saw the glimmer of hope that flickered in his eyes.

"Hi"he said breathlessly not believing you were actually in front of him.

"So why'd you bring me here?" You questioned, he looked nervous he looked scared almost.

He took a deep breath "Look Y/N i really wanted to talk to you about what happened a few days ago can you please hear me out" he said desperately trying to get you to cooperate.

He didn't care if you rejected his apology he needed to explain everything that happened.

You both sat down on a bench nearby after you've agreed to give him a chance and hear him out.

"You can start now" you said, "Yeah-yeah right ok um well as you know it's true,i mean like the bet,but please before you react i want to tell you that I've loved you for so long, longer than the bet. The bet gave me a door of opportunity for me you know?"

He noticed that you were still quiet so he continued "This was never a lie, we were never a lie, I've loved you for so long, and im not about to make it all disappear because of a stupid bet, you know I rejected the money a couple of bucks is worth nothing against receiving your love".

His voice was wavy at the end, hand creeping closer to yours slowly entwining with yours.

Tears pricked your eyes as you heard his little speech. You turned to him, you searched your eyes silently, waiting for a response hoping you wouldn't just get up and leave.

But he didn't expect you to be grabbing him by the collar and kissing him. He immediately kissed back with no hesitation hand sliding up your neck to your face holding your cheek softly.

You both pulled, "So i think that's a yes?" You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic question before pulling back for another kiss.

It wasn't a lie after all you thought, maybe it was all going to be ok.

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goldenavenger02 · 5 months

Text

the monsters turned out to be just trees

He pushed himself onto his toes to sneak past both Sora and Riyu before letting himself out of the sliding door and started to walk after letting himself back down onto the soles of his feet.

He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't lay there, not when he was the only thing that kept Sora off of death's doorstep that afternoon.

"Arin! Arin, hold pressure on this while I find Kai!"

"On it!" His hands went right to the wound where the bright red slowly but surely seeped into his black gloves and his knees started to get scratched on the concrete.

"A-Arin?" Her voice was shaking as she grasped her hand around his upper arm.

"Lloyd's getting help, stay awake."

"I-it hurts!" The end of her sentence came out in a shout as he pressed down harder to try and keep her blood inside of her body.

"I know, I know it hurts, but you have to stay awake, Sora."

Arin panted as he awoke to darkness with his hand grasping onto his chest and tears in his eyes as he heard Riyu's snores filling the room.

"Sora?" Arin couldn't help but whisper as he laid on his back in the darkness, "Sora, are you awake?"

He heard a pained groan break through the sounds of sleep coming from the dragon which made his heart pang with regret, "now. You okay?"

"Y-yeah," Arin insisted as he sat up, hoping that she couldn't hear where tears had filled his throat moments before he had chosen to whisper, "yeah, just go back to sleep."

But, this was Sora, who knew him better than he knew himself and before he knew it, she was sitting up with her hand hovering over her injured side.

He was motionless as he watched the blade made out of black and yellow metal slice right through Sora's skin, blood splattering on the ground around her where the crimson shone brightly in the sun.

"Come on, tell me what's going on," she stopped to pull in a particularly shaky inhale that Arin was pretty sure was from the pain, "are you thinking about them again? Your parents?"

"Get away from her!" Arin shouted as he grabbed the first piece of metal he could, before twisting himself into Spinjitzu and flinging the object right at the guy who still had a sword buried deep in Sora's skin.

"No, I just…had a nightmare." Arin insisted, scratching at the back of his neck. 'It's not like I'm lying about that, but she doesn't need to be upset right now.'

"Okay," if she doubted him, she wasn't expressing it as she laid back down with her hand still clasped around her side, "just try and go back to sleep if you can."

"Will do." Arin nodded as he laid back down and stared at the long faded glow-in-the-dark stars that covered the ceiling.

He scrubbed at the red that he knew was covering his black gloves, trying not to throw up at the coppery smell of his friend's life that had been at risk under his palms, all while knowing that he was never going to get her pained shout out of his head.

Arin waited until he heard her breathing even out before he got out of his bed slowly, letting his feet hit the wooden floor with a quiet 'thud'.

He pushed himself onto his toes to sneak past both Sora and Riyu before letting himself out of the sliding door and started to walk after letting himself back down onto the soles of his feet.

He didn't know where he was going, but he couldn't lay there, not when he was the only thing that kept Sora off of death's doorstep that afternoon.

'Maybe I should get some training in,' he pondered briefly, but shook it off when he remembered the warning of his master, 'Lloyd said training while tired puts you at more harm.'

So, he made his way toward the kitchen instead to get a glass of water.

His mom had always made sure to get him a glass of water and even a chocolate chip cookie whenever he had a nightmare after she had held him close, wiped his eyes and double-checked for monsters under the bed.

It was nights like these, when the tree branches outside of the windows would smack against it in the wind that made the parent-sized hole in Arin's heart throb more than usual; nights where he couldn't help but wonder if they would still be proud of him, even though he hadn't stopped that guy from hurting Sora.

But as he filled his glass with water, he couldn't help but try and listen in on the hushed voices he could hear coming from…somewhere in the monastery. 'Who else is awake at…it has to be nearly three in the morning.'

He gulped down his water and set the glass in the left side of the sink next to the rest of the dishes that were still soaking off the burnt grease from cooking dinner before inching closer and closer toward the whispers, pushing himself onto his toes once again.

"First Master!" one of the voices shouted, but as he tip-toed toward the bedroom with light peeking out from under the door, he couldn't identify who was yelling.

"You are so stupid," a second voice that had to be Kai responded, "and this is gonna sting."

"That was just you cleaning it?!"

"This is really gnarly looking. Deep breath."

"I am not a kid any more," the voice was strained which made it harder to identify, "I don't need you to baby me-shit!" Arin heard a hand hit the wall hard after the curse.

"This isn't me babying you," Kai retorted with a bite of anger in his voice, "this is me making sure you don't kill yourself by bleeding out. You're lucky I didn't wake Zane up to deal with you."

"I could have dealt with it."

"Do you know how hard it is to clean a wound to the back? You would have gotten it infected, you little shit."

"If you're gonna keep being a dick, just-" The first voice stopped to hiss, but the walls continued to distort it, "go back to bed and get your beauty sleep."

"I can't, because someone," Kai's emphasis on the word "someone" followed by a quick exclamation of pain didn't leave much to Arin's imagination as to what was happening behind the thin door, "decided to lie to everyone when asked if anyone besides Sora was injured."

"I was gonna tell Zane."

"When your god genes kicked in and healed it up? Those aren't going to always save you, Lloyd."

'Wait, Lloyd?' Arin thought with confusion.

He remembered Lloyd clearly and thoroughly telling both him and Sora that if they got hurt, even if they didn't notice at first due to adrenaline, to let someone know so the wounds didn't get worse and yet…then again, he couldn't help but also remember the times where Lloyd reminisced on his time as a student.

Where he would directly disobey Master Wu's teaching and instruction, even if he would also explain why not listening to his master had ended badly for him and the other ninja like his life was one big cautionary tale.

And yet, here he was, listening in on Lloyd after doing the exact same thing that he told them not to do.

'Surely he had a good reason, even if it's just one that he thinks is good,' Arin tried to reassure himself, 'he tried to upkeep the whole monastery by himself after all, and he put all of Master Wu's responsibilities on himself outside of keeping things clean.'

"Gotcha!"

Arin couldn't stop himself from shouting as he was tackled to the ground and a flame was held too close to his face for comfort.

"Kai, get off of him!" Lloyd insisted as he pulled at the fire ninja's shoulder before reaching his hand out for Arin to take, "are you okay?"

But all he could focus on as he let him pull him to his feet was the fact that Lloyd's pajama shirt had been haphazardly pulled on and with it, he could clearly see the bandages that looped around his stomach.

"I should be asking you that."

"What?" Lloyd questioned but looked down when Kai cleared his throat and straightened out his shirt so it hung over the waistband of his pants, "that's…that's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"It's not "nothing", I just had to stitch you back together," Kai retorted before looking right at Arin, "but he's right, you don't need to worry about it. Humpty-Dumpty has been put back together again, thanks to yours truly."

"Kai, I need to have this conversation with Arin," when all Kai did was nod, Arin had to stifle his giggle when Lloyd had to emphasize, "alone."

"Fine, fine, but then you two get your asses in bed, it's almost sunrise."

"I am not running any sunrise exercises until Sora is healed."

"That is not the point I was trying to get across and you know it, you little insomniac," Lloyd's groan only resulted in Kai reaching over to ruffle up Lloyd's already impressive bed-head which made it impossible for Arin to keep himself from laughing, "you shouldn't even be training them while you're hurt-"

"Okay, goodnight!" Lloyd shouted which finally got Kai to raise his hands in surrender and walk to his room while he ran a hand over his face before finally redirecting his attention so his bright green eyes met Arin's dark brown ones, "I'm sure you have questions, or criticism so…get it out."

"Is that normal?" Arin found himself asking despite the many other "whys" and "hows" running through his head.

"Kai's obnoxious teasing? Yes."

"I meant you getting hurt, or…" he stopped to let his glance wander toward his and Sora's room before returning to his Master's eyes, "any of us getting hurt."

Lloyd sighed and looked down at the floor, which filled Arin with regret for the second time that night, before looking back up at him, "I want you to trust me, so I'm not gonna lie to you. I don't think there has been a single fight where we haven't come out of it injured."

"Really?"

"Usually it's just bruises or scrapes, sometimes a minor concussion or a couple of stitches," Lloyd elaborated, "but, what happened to Sora and I, that isn't exactly common, and we're going to be okay."

"How do you know that?" Arin asked as he fought himself from adding, 'because I cannot lose anyone else.'

"Because we always are," Lloyd shrugged before ushering Arin to his room, "we should get some sleep, even if it's just so Kai doesn't yell at both of us tomorrow."

"Okay," Arin nodded even though he wasn't sure Kai could actually be that angry with Lloyd, "goodnight, Lloyd."

And with that, he turned his back on his master and started to make his way back to his bedroom, only to realize that maybe the sound of tree branches hitting the windows wasn't as jarring as it was before.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #my writing #fic #dragons rising #ninjago arin #ninjago sora #lloyd garmadon #ninjago kai #light angst #mild gore #blood and injury #nightmares #self-blame #mission gone wrong #swearing

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staticscreenwriting · 2 years

Text

Instructions for dancing II E.M.

Summary: Eddie is so desperately in love with his girlfriend that he plans to propose after they graduate ... only he doesn't graduate. He does learn to dance though.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader (I always try not to describe the reader physically, if I missed something please let me know so I can change it and make this "applicable" to every reader. Thank you!)

A/N: This is pure, tooth-rotting fluff. It's cheesy as hell but I loved writing this. I had to put in some Wayne and Eddie bonding because I live for that.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

"The book of love is long and boring No one can lift the damn thing It's full of charts and facts, and figures And instructions for dancing. [....]

And I I love it when you give me things And you You ought to give me wedding rings"

Wayne Munson can not remember a time in his life when he wasn't responsible for another person. He was 6 years old when his little brother was born and from that moment on his path in life was set.

Where Wayne was quiet and kind, responsible and mature, Frankie was the whole opposite. Frankie was loud and erratic. He was a "do first, think later" kind of person. Frankie was entirely too charming for his own good. Could talk himself in and out of any and every problem. And the few times he couldn’t? Well, Wayne was right there to have his back and pull him out of the sticky situation he got himself into.

Frankie was unabashedly reckless because he knew there was a safety net just waiting to catch him before he hit the ground.

Wayne knew that it wasn’t the most healthy way of living but what was he supposed to do? Watch his brother ruin his own life? Absolutely not. They had no one but each other.

Mom was — well she was a woman of her time. She was quiet and timid and soft. A woman molded by the man she had married far too young. Dad was mean and resentful.

They wouldn’t look out for Frankie. So what else was Wayne to do but step up and be the one to make sure his little brother was doing alright?

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, that night when frantic knocks at the door of his small trailer woke him from a deep slumber. It was storming outside, raindrops hammering against the windows like bullets.

When Wayne dragged himself out of bed and towards the door, he had not expected to be met with the sight before him though in retrospect he should’ve been. It was only a matter of time really.

Frankie looked up at his older brother with those big brown eyes of his, filled with concern and guilt and regret and — fear. It was the first time ever, that Wayne had ever seen fear in his brother’s eyes.

“ She left. Wendy left. “

Wayne’s first thought was a defeated but unsurprised scoff. The girl was 18, barely a grown-up herself. A part of him couldn’t fault her for leaving and trying to make something of herself instead of being bound to a man that was flaky and unreliable.

Then his eyes fell onto the little boy clutched tightly in his brother's arms. The same big brown eyes that you couldn’t help but love. He deserved better. He deserved a mother who cared.

He ushered the both of them inside, gave his brother a big mug of coffee to warm him up, and put the baby down into a makeshift nest made of pillows and blankets.

He’d only seen his nephew two times before. Once right after he had just been born, and one time when he drove down to Jasper to see Frankie and Wendy and help them move into their new apartment. He’d only seen his nephew two times before but he loved him dearly. All of the good his brother ever had about him, accumulated in the child.

When Frankie asked if it was okay for the two of them to stay, of course, Wayne agreed. He cleared out his bedroom and moved into the smaller one, the one he had used for storage until now. It only made sense, it was two of them and one of him. The baby needed a proper room to grow up in. Even if it was only for a short time.

But even then, the trailer wasn’t big enough for two adults and a baby. It was cramped and chaotic. And while Wayne didn’t mind staying up and rocking the boy back to sleep when Frankie was too exhausted from spending the whole day doing — whatever the fuck it was he did, it still ground away at his substance.

Frankie agreed, he too thought of the trailer as way too small for 3 people. Though his solution had not been what Wayne had expected or even wanted.

“ I don’t feel good having you be responsible for me and the kid,” he had said, and though his mind screamed, “That’s all I’ve been doing my entire life!” Wayne stayed silent.

“ I found a job for a truck driving company. Good pay. But it would mean I’m on the road most of the time. I’d make money for the kid though, once I have enough saved I could look for some other job and we could settle down somewhere close. “

Frankie didn’t have to say it, Wayne knew exactly what he meant. He wanted to leave the kid. He should’ve known it wasn’t gonna work like this. His little brother wasn’t gonna magically turn into a responsible adult just because he got a girl pregnant. But Wayne still held a flicker of hope for this baby brother. So he agreed. What difference would it make, being responsible for one more person? It’s not like he knew it any other way.

Life with Eddie was exhausting and rewarding at the same time. Though he had always enjoyed being alone, Wayne liked having the kid around and being less lonely. And Eddie, young as he was, showed his love and gratitude in all the ways a little baby could.

In big smiles — all gums, no teeth. In his little baby giggles. In the way, he'd immediately quiet down whenever Wayne would take him in his arms and rock him softly.

In first steps and first words. None of which Frankie was there to witness.

He tried, Wayne had to give him that much. At first, he really tried. Came around every few weeks to spend time with Eddie. Be a father. He remembered birthdays and holidays and special occasions.

But Frankie was still Frankie and Frankie would never change. Not for himself, not for Wendy, not for Wayne — not even for Eddie.

Instead of reading to him or teaching him important things or taking him fishing, Frankie let the kid watch horror movies, took him to a friend's bar, and taught him how to hotwire cars.

It wasn't ideal for a child but Wayne was just happy Frankie wanted to spend time with his son.

Until one day he didn't.

It started when Eddie was just 10. Visits from Frank grew more and more sparse. Calls stopped coming. Birthdays were forgotten.

By the time Eddie turned 12, he hadn't seen or heard from his dad in over 6 months. That day Wayne decided that for once in his life he wasn't gonna catch Frankie. Eddie was his responsibility now and he would do everything in his power to make sure the kid was happy, if that meant letting go of Frankie then so be it.

He'd been through a lot with the kid, seeing so much of his younger brother in the boy. He was so easily excited, so fiercely passionate. He was clever though he could never focus on one thing for a longer period of time. His imagination and creativity knew no bounds nor limitations. And he had that same damn charm that got Frankie into so much trouble.

Wayne had been through a lot with Eddie. Hardly anything could surprise him anymore.

Hardly —

"Kid, what are you doing?"

It's quite the common occurrence at the Munson household to be greeted by the sound of loud heavy metal, another passion Eddie inherited from his father. What Wayne isn't used to though, is hearing slow classical music coming from the tape recorder.

Eddie, all lanky arms and legs, stands in the middle of the small living area of their trailer, arms held up at chest height as if getting ready to dance with a ghost.

"I'm practicing." He replies with that signature Eddie matter-of-factness that sometimes borders arrogance. He's so much his father and Frankie will never truly know.

"Practicing what?'' "

"Dancing"

He can't see the boy's face as his back is turned, but Wayne is sure he's rolling those big brown eyes of his.

"For what?"

An exasperated sigh falls from Eddie’s lips as he drops his arms and turns to face his uncle.

“ So I can dance with (Y/N) when we get married. “

A smirk finds its way onto Wayne’s face. He’s been wondering how long it would take for something like this to happen. The two have been glued together since they were just 6 years old and (Y/N) and her family moved into the trailer next to the Munsons.

“ You’re getting married, huh? “

“ Yeah. I asked her earlier. We’re getting married after we’re done with school.“

He's 12 years old, the question doesn't hold the same gravity as it would coming from someone older. It doesn't mean it holds no meaning though. But at 12 years old, not fully grasping the concept of long-lasting romantic relationships, what could be better than spending the rest of your life with your very best friend? Absolutely nothing.

“ What made you ask her? “

Eddie shrugs his shoulders and plops down onto the couch “Henry Fletcher asked her out on a date to the movies as a prank and then he and his buddies made fun of her and called her a trailer park freak. She cried and I — I hate that. I wanted to fight them but they’re all much bigger than me and I’m no idiot. I never would've won that fight. But I told her that everyone could be happy to date her, right? Cause she’s funny and she likes all the cool books and movies and she owns the best records on vinyl. And everyone thinks I’m a freak too so we might as well be freaks together.”

Wayne knows that his nephew isn’t the most popular kid in school and though he tries to give him all that he can, he is well aware that the both of them come short a lot of the time. Kids are judgemental as fuck. Brutal and unforgiving to those that don’t meet whatever ridiculous standards are currently being set. They judge everyone for being even a little bit different and if Eddie is anything, he’s different. He’s exhausting sometimes, he’s a handful. But he’s also loving and sweet and fiercely loyal, sometimes to a fault.

It breaks his heart to know kids are giving Eddie a hard time at school when he deserves so much better.

“ Eddie, listen to me. Those kids are mean, awful people. Don’t let them make you feel like you’re worth any less than them, okay? You're a good kid. The best kid. “

Eddie looks at him with those big brown eyes of his, filled with a gentle sensibility.

“ Yeah, screw them. “

“ That’s right kid. Screw them.”

Should he be encouraging that kind of language? Probably not. But hey, even Wayne never claimed to be perfect.

“ Hey, uncle Wayne. Can you teach me how to dance? “

The mix between a scoff and a laugh tumbles from Wayne’s lips.

“ Kid, there’s a lot of things I can teach you but dancing ain’t one of them. “

It’s an unspoken rule that prom is meant for the cool and the popular kids only. Those that have enough money to splurge on a fucking limo, a stupid suit, a sparkly dress. On shoes and jewelry and hair appointments and the prom tickets themselves.

Prom is not meant for the freaks and the outsiders.

Prom is not meant for people like Eddie and (Y/N).

"You know I don't usually condone violence but man I wouldn't have minded going to prom if this is how it goes," Eddie exclaims before taking a sip from his beer, eyes trained on the TV where Carrie currently goes on a bloody rampage.

"You don't condone violence?"

Her laughter echoes through the trailer, mixing with the terrified screams of Carrie's teenage victims. Her eyebrows are raised as a sarcastic smile pulls at the corner of her lips.

"Are you — are you implying I am anything but a pacifist, (Y/N)?"

"I meaaan you do love causing havoc, you're just quick to get out of the situation."

"Well (Y/N), life's about knowing when to run."

He places a soft kiss on the top of her head. She smells like vanilla and soap. She smells like home.

Eddie's heart beats just a little faster every time he's close to her. Sure they had decided to get married at 12 years old but those were just innocent childhood fantasies. Things they knew nothing about. Things are different now. More serious.

She's officially his girl. His girlfriend. With all benefits and downsides. Though he's the first to admit that the benefits far outweigh anything else.

"Can you imagine though? Deborah Smith, Kyle Jones, and all their little minions with their perfectly styled hair and their stupid frilly shirts, covered in blood. Finally getting the payback for all their shitty behavior."

That gets a little laugh out of her. It's without a doubt his favorite sound in the world.

"That is hilarious to think about, I have to agree."

"So, you're not sad we're missing out?"

They've decided a while ago not to attend prom. Spending hours in a stuffy gym with people they don't like, listening to music they can't stand, didn't sound like the most desirable way to spend an evening to either of the two teenagers.

"No. I'm good. We made the right choice. Just a bit bummed I don't have a proper reason to wear my dress. Don't think anyone I know is getting married anytime soon."

"You have a dress?"

That's news. He knows she has dresses but this one seems different. It sounds special. Like it was bought with a purpose. With an event in mind. And he'd hate to have been the one to ruin it.

"Mmmh. I found it a few months ago while I was at the thrift store with my mom. It's a vintage 1950s dress. I wasn't sure if we were going to prom or not but it was just so pretty and it fits me like a glove so I couldn't not buy it."

Eddie loves her in sweatpants and ripped jeans and old pajamas. He loves her with no makeup on and when her hair is all crazy after just waking up. He loves her always and in any state. But at that moment something in him awakens. This little voice that nags at him. The one that wants to see her in a pretty dress.

"You know, just 'cause we're not going to prom doesn't mean you can't wear the dress."

"Huh?" She faces him, eyes wide with confusion.

"We can have our own prom. Only without the stupid assholes and the shitty music and the disgusting punch. I'll pack some beers and snacks and you dress up and we'll drive out to the lake or something. Put on some music and just — be."

"Are you gonna dress up?"

"Babe, I'm always dressed up."

She bites her lip in an attempt to stop the smirk that's threatening to spread on her face.

"Sure you are."

"C'mon what do you say? It'll be fun, right."

He wants to put that twinkle in her eyes every day of his life. The one she holds when she looks at him, filled with love and excitement, and happiness.

"Okay yeah. Don't go pulling a Carrie on me though!"

"Nah, babe. Where would I get pigs' blood on such short notice?"

"You’d find a way. You know entirely too many shady people."

He shrugs his shoulders in agreement. She's got a point.

"Okay let me get ready. Meet you by your car in 30 minutes?"

"Absolutely not! I'm gonna give you the full prom experience. I'll pick you up, baby."

She just shakes her head in amusement before placing a soft kiss on his lips. She's always so soft. Always so sweet.

"I love you, Eddie Munson. You're my best friend."

"Holy fuck!"

She's a dream. A vision in tulle and chiffon. Eddie never really thought of himself as a lover of girls in fancy dresses. He liked them naked, mostly. Didn't really care for any of the fancy bullshit.

He thinks he might be a changed man.

"You look — I don't even have words. Let me see all of you, c'mon give me a twirl."

He takes her hand in his and twirls her around under his arm as the yellow glow of the trailer park lights illuminates the night.

"Look at those boots! You're a fucking metal princess!"

The gravel crunches under her black boots.

"I was thinking about wearing my heels but if we're going to the lake I don't think they'd be too practical. So I’m not trying to be edgy, I just don’t wanna ruin my shoes."

"How about you wear them for me later tonight," Eddie suggests pulling her closer and resting a hand on her waist while the other gently cups her jaw.

" — Only the heels?"

"Yes ma'am, not a single extra piece of clothing."

Eddie feels her chuckle against his lips as he pulls her into a quick kiss. He's sure he'll never get tired of kissing her.

"It's not a limo but I hope it'll do," Eddie declares as he holds out his arms and stands in front of his old rusty van.

"It's perfect."

"You're perfect."

And he means it. He really, truly does.

———————

"I wish we could see the stars this clearly at the trailer park."

Her eyes are trained on the inky black sky, speckled with a thousand little dots of light.

"Remember that one time a few years ago we had a blackout and everyone came outside and Wayne started a little fire in the pit and we watched the stars and you played us something on your guitar?"

The memory pulls the corners of his lips upwards. Yeah, he remembers. It was one of the best nights of his life. It was the first time he played guitar for anyone other than Wayne and (Y/N). And people liked it. They enjoyed hearing him play songs on his old busted-up acoustic guitar.

He was 13 and he didn't know that many songs yet but it didn't matter. They told him to play one more and one more and when he had exhausted all the songs in his repertoire they told him to "play that last one again". And he did.

It also made (Y/N) smile and that was always a win in his book.

"Yeah, I remember," he answers wistfully.

"Wayne told me stories about the constellations that night. I thought he was the smartest man in the world."

He loves how much his uncle means to her. His two favorite people being close will never not make him proud.

"He is the smartest man!" Eddie acknowledges. And it's true, to him at least.

She leans her head against his shoulder and takes a deep sigh. He likes when it's like this. Sitting in his van with the doors wide open, feet dangling above the ground, looking out towards the lake and the sky as the music plays softly from his car radio. Just the two of them and the night and the stars. No expectations. No fears of the future. Nothing. Just them and their love and a lifetime of memories.

"You know anything about constellations?" She wonders, eyes twinkling up at him rivaling the stars above them.

" Sure! That one there, that's the uh — big scorpion. The one next to it is called um — squirrel of doom."

A laugh falls from her lips as Eddie points towards the clusters of stars.

"The squirrel of doom, huh?"

"Mmmh."

"You don't know shit about constellations, do you?"

"Not a clue."

Eddie loves making her laugh. He loves joking around with her. He doesn't have to pretend or try to impress her with skills or knowledge he doesn't possess. She loves him just as he is.

"Oh, I love this song!" She exclaims as the tape changes to the next tune.

The melody of Journey’s Open Arms plays from the speakers of Eddie's shitty van and out into the night, painting a smile on (Y/N)'s face.

"I know, that's why I put it on the tape."

"Come on," she exclaims and jumps onto her feet, hand reaching out to him and beckoning him closer. "It's Prom so we should dance."

"You wanna slow dance with the freak?"

"I wanna slow dance with my freak."

Eddie mirrors her previous actions and gets onto his feet, comically dusting himself off before grabbing a hold of her hands.

"I guess if my lady asks for a dance I will have to grant her wish."

"Oh aren't you just a gentleman? A regular everyday prince charming."

The night folds around them like a safety blanket, sheltering them from all the gloom of the outside world, if only for a moment.

To have her close, hands clasped together, hearts beating in sync, head softly resting against him — this must be the place they sing about in songs, they talk about in movies, and write about in books. Where everything is better and everything's safe.

His heart feels heavy and light at the same time. If this is as good as life gets, he’s a happy man. Forever sheltered and loved in the arms of the girl he adores. But he knows — he knows this isn’t a forever kind of situation.

“ I didn’t know you could dance, “ she says and shakes him from his hazy thoughts.

“ Yeah, well I practiced. Even got a book from the library with like a step sheet. “

“ A what? “

“ Little pictures of shoes that tell you where to step. Numbered and everything. “

She pulls her head from where it rests against him and regards him with a mixture of curiosity, surprise, and amusement.

“ Hold up — you learned how to dance? When? Why? “

He shrugs his shoulders in dismissal “Ah you know, when we were like 12 or something and you agreed to marry me once we’ve graduated.”

A smile slowly pulls at the corner of her lips. He can see the recognition in her eyes as they fill with a sense of sweet nostalgia. A memory is forming in her mind and he can watch it in real-time.

“ That’s right! Wow, and look at us now. About to graduate. Dancing.”

Eddie was never one to listen to the Angel on his shoulder. For the longest time, he believed there was none. The devil’s whispers always seemed to drown out everything else. And though he never did anything actually bad, he did make a lot of poor choices.

He almost wanted to listen to the devil again, get the little box hidden in his van. The one that’s been there since he was 16 years old and asked his dad for a favor. The one and only favor he had ever asked him for.

He wants to listen to the devil and be selfish.

But then he looks into her eyes and the way they shine with love and hope and endless potential. This is her world and he’s just living in it. There is so much out there for her and to hold her back would be the most selfish act ever committed.

So for once in his life, he listens to the angel.

“ I um — I gotta tell you something. “

“ Okay,” she agrees and takes his hands in hers. The way her thumbs rub soft circles into his skin to reassure and comfort him, breaks his heart a little. Tiny cracks turning into craters.

“ I’m not gonna graduate.”

“ What do you mean? “

“ Failed some classes. It’s — I really tried but I just couldn’t get my grades up in time.”

He almost doesn’t dare to look at her but some masochistic part of him wants to see his own insecurities reflected in her eyes. Only when he lifts his head, he doesn’t find what he is looking for. There is no disappointment. There is only sadness and shock. He doesn’t know if that is better or worse.

“ Why didn’t you ask me for help? “

Truth be told, he didn’t see how bad the situation was until it was too late. But even had he realized the severity of it all, he wouldn’t have asked her. She would’ve put him before anything else, before herself. And he couldn’t be the reason for her forgetting about herself in the process of fixing his mistakes.

“ I thought I could handle it.”

“ What about our plan? “

It was a flimsy plan, to begin with. Her going off to college and him following to find a job there and earn some money. A shared apartment. A shared life. He knows he was only a footnote in that dream but that’s enough for him. He’d follow her to the end of the world and further.

“ I’ll just be a year late. You can fix up our nest like those birds you made me watch the documentary about. Those yellow ones. “

She grants him a watery chuckle, her eyes glossy and sad “ Golden Weavers? The males build the nest. “

“ Yeah well, we’re not like other birds, You and I. We’re special. “

The jokes only do so much to hide the pain and when she lets a tear roll down her cheek, he can’t help but pull her closer and for once let himself feel the fear of losing what they have.

“ Don’t cry, baby. We’ll be fine. “

“ Do you promise?”

In his heart, he knows that he shouldn’t. That the right and honest thing was to promise to try but no more, no less.

But he can’t do that. Not when she is this sad. Not when this vision of a future for them is all that is keeping him afloat.

“ I promise,” he replies.

Only Eddie Munson was never exceptionally good at keeping promises.

Wayne Munson can not remember a time in his life when he wasn't responsible for another person. He was 6 years old when his little brother was born and from that moment on his path in life was set.

But this time, this time things feel different. Because this time there is someone who’s taking care of him in return.

The bluebird Inn is a small hotel nestled in the woods somewhere between Downtown Hawkins and Lovers Lake. It’s sleepy and old but surrounded by the most beautiful nature scene.

It has a main house with 12 rooms and a barn with a big garden.

It’s perfect for a small intimate wedding celebration.

Had anyone told him he would ever get married, especially at this age, Wayne would’ve called them a fucking idiot. But life, he realized a while ago, works in mysterious ways and there’s no sense in questioning things. They happen as they happen and most of it is out of your control anyway.

And sometimes life grants you a good thing in between all the hardships.

Eddie nervously plays with the chunky silver rings adorning his fingers as the piano melodies start echoing through the air. All eyes are trained on his uncle’s bride as she walks down the aisle, a bright smile on her face.

All eyes but his.

Eddie knew Wayne was gonna invite (Y/N) and her parents. They’ve been neighbors forever, friends, family. It doesn’t mean seeing her sitting there on one of the white garden chairs, looking like a long-forgotten dream of his doesn’t make his heart do weird flippy things. It’s kinda scary, kinda exciting. Like going down a rollercoaster.

She has a yellow flower in her hair and a smile playing on her lips and it’s like he’s right back to being 16 and helplessly in love with his best friend.

Maybe some things never change. Maybe the important things stick around for so long until they eventually become part of who you are.

In another life, he thinks as he hands Wayne the rings, maybe this could be him and (Y/N). Maybe if he hadn’t been so reckless and had worked a bit harder and actually graduated on time. Maybe if he had listened to the devil, the way he always did, and asked her. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

What good does wondering do if it leads nowhere? It’s not like it matters. Not when they haven’t really talked in years.

But when her eyes meet his over the applause of the crowd and the newlyweds share a kiss, all those maybes come flooding back like a tidal wave. Maybe their love story will never be over. Not entirely. Maybe they are a story never finished instead of a closed book.

_____________________________

“ So are you gonna put the poor boy out of his misery anytime soon or — ?” Wayne speaks up as he leans against the outdoor bar where (Y/N) is standing sipping on a glass of sparkling wine.

Both their eyes are fixed on Eddie who’s roped into what looks like a deep conversation with 87-year-old Mrs. Richards from two trailers over. Well more of a monologue from her and a lot of quiet and nodding from him.

“ He seems fine to me. Mrs. Richards has riveting stories I tell you. “

Wayne softly nudges her arm with his making them both chuckle. “ You know what I mean, kid.”

“ I don’t know. I might have to let him wait a little longer. He’s been sneaking glances at me all day when he thinks I’m not looking and yet he hasn’t had the guts to talk to me yet.”

“ You know what he’s like. He missed you but he’ll never admit it. Too much like his dad, that one. Even looks more and more like him every day. Except for the hair. “

“ I love the hair. “

She doesn’t mean to say it out loud but it slips. Sometimes the truth demands to be spoken. She’s just glad Wayne chooses not to comment on it.

“ When I look at him I see Frankie and sometimes it scares me. I just hope I taught him enough common sense to make better choices. “

“ Are you joking?” she asks, genuine confusion clouding her face as she looks up at the older man. “ Eddie is all you. Yeah, he may be a bit more impulsive and — chaotic. But all that good in him are traits that you taught him. You even got him to wear a button-down. That’s your boy there, Wayne. It’s time you allow yourself to take some pride in that.”

When he doesn’t reply she thinks maybe he disagrees. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. But then he pulls her into a side hug and she knows that’s as much affection as anyone is ever gonna get from him.

“ Thanks, kid. We all missed you. “

“ I missed you guys too. So much. “

“ Okay folks, we’re taking a little break but feel free to drop some song requests into the box over there. We’re corroded coffin and we’ll be right back. “

Eddie gets off the makeshift stage, a smile inadvertently finding its way onto his face and a light dust of blush settling on his cheeks as the crowd gives his band another round of applause.

He must admit, he wasn’t convinced at first when Wayne asked him if Corroded Coffin would consider playing at the wedding. Mostly because it would mean playing covers, a lot of them songs he didn't even like, and maybe also a little bit because he was afraid of playing in front of his friends and family.

Playing for strangers was easy, Eddie had long ago stopped giving a shit about what strangers thought of him or his music. But playing for the people he loved, the people whose opinion he cherished, that was a whole different story.

But Wayne really wanted them to play and who was he to say no to the man who had raised him like a father? Who had always put Eddie before himself.

Looking at it now, seeing people clap and sing along and having a good time, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

“ You know, it’s really hard getting a hold of you. First Mrs. Richards got you occupied and then you go playing rockstar. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re avoiding me.”

He hasn’t heard her voice in what? Months? Years? And it still makes his heart flutter in the same way it did when they were kids.

“ I’d never avoid you. Tried to, for years, and it didn’t work. I learned my lesson“

“ Oh shut up! You loved me.”

He hates the way she speaks in past tense. As if there was ever going to be a present in which he doesn’t love her. But this is friendly banter. It’s all just for fun. Right? No need to look for a deeper meaning.

“Yeah alright, whatever you say.”

He can’t think of anything he likes more than to see her smile. Her eyes maybe.

“ It’s good to see you, (Y/N).”

She bites her lower lip and nods slightly. “ Missed you too, Eds. Wanna go have a drink with me? Now that we can do so legally. “

“There’s nothing I’d rather do. Lead the way, my princess.”

There are a few things he’d rather do but none of those he can tell her. Because you just don’t tell your ex-girlfriend how desperately you want to kiss her still. Back then, now, and probably forever.

One drink turns into two turns into three. He’s not drunk, not even close, but everything feels a little lighter. Like a weight has been taken from his shoulders for a few hours. Like his tongue is looser than before and secrets that have previously been buried slowly dig their way to the surface.

“ Never thought I’d see Wayne get married, “ she exclaims as she watches the newlyweds slowly sway along to the music.

“ Tell me about it. “

“ I’m happy for him though. He deserves this. “

“ Yeah — yeah me too. “

And he is, he truly is. But a tiny nagging part of his brain can’t help and wish that it wasn’t Wayne and his bride out there celebrating. A tiny part of his mind screams at him “This should be us! “

“ So what about you ? “ he asks though he’s not sure he even wants to know the answer. Not when one of the possibilities might shatter his heart completely.

“What about me? “

“ Any suitors? “

He tries to hide his irritation with a fake, forceful chuckle. He can’t even convince himself.

(Y/N) shrugs in dismissal. “ Meh. No one worth mentioning. I had the best, everything coming after is a downgrade and I uh — I can’t be bothered with that right now.”

Maybe, he thinks, he’s not the only one being affected by the wine. Hearing her talk about him like that is — strange. But a good kind of strange. A kind of strange that warms him from the inside, bones and flesh and blood. All of him.

“Stop with the flattery! You know how well it works with me.”

“ It’s nothing but the truth, “ she says and takes another sip from her glass. “Did the other girls figure out how wonderful you are by now? “

He scoffs and rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. “You kidding? Once a freak always a freak, baby.”

“ Well, they don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

Whether she knows it or not, with every word of praise, she’s sending tiny daggers straight to his heart. And even someone as unbothered as Eddie can only take so much.

“ (Y/N), you can’t say shit like that.”

“ Why not? “

“ Because it’s killing me.”

“ What?”

“ You and I — I thought that was forever. I truly believed in that. So much so that I got a ring when I was fucking 16. But then things didn’t work out the way I had hoped they would, of course not. When do things ever fucking work out for me? But I — I’m still so fucking head over heels in love with you and it hurts when you talk to me like there’s still a chance for us when we both know that chapter has been closed long ago. I mean fuck, you live hours away. So if you’re just here to go on a nostalgic walk down memory lane, please stop. Some of us aren’t so easy at moving on. “

He hates the way she looks at him then. As if he’s the one throwing daggers and breaking hearts.

“Eddie I — “

“ No I — look I’m glad you’re home but I can’t do this. I gotta get back on stage anyway. “

It’s the first time in his life that he’s the one walking away. He wonders how they did it, mom and dad. How they walked away from a person they loved and didn't fall apart. Because he’s barely able to hold himself together.

He just has to make it all the way to the stage and then he can let himself get lost in the music and forget about the heartbreak for a little while. Just a few more steps.

His eyes feel cloudy and glassy. He’s not one for tears. But even Eddie can only take so much.

“ Eddie, are you okay? “

He doesn’t register Wayne’s concerned words at first. Just a few more steps.

“ Eddie?”

Just a few more —

“ Son? “

A strong arm wraps around Eddie’s shoulder and pulls him away from the crown, to a spot behind the barn that's sheltered from any curious and prying eyes.

“ What’s going on, kid?”

This is not something they do. Open up to each other. Talk about their feelings. It’s always been more of a, keep things to yourself and bury them until you physically can’t hold onto anything anymore, kind of deal.

But what if it’s too much? Can one person feel too much all at once?

“I thought I was okay seeing her living her life and being happy but it hurts so damn much that there’s no room for me in it anymore.”

Wayne scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re a dumbass, Edward.

“ Wow great talk, thanks uncle Wayne I feel so much better now.”

“ You think she came here for me? You think she called to ask me what color your tie was gonna be for any reason other than to match her dress to it? You think her mom grilled me about what your future plans are just because? Eddie, (Y/N) was offered a job back here in Hawkins now that she graduated but who are we kidding, this is Hawkins, no one wants to come back. You only come back here if there’s someone to come back to.”

“ She’s coming back to her family.”

“ No son, she’s coming back to you. Doesn’t sound to me like there’s no place in her life for you.”

Silence falls over them, thick and heavy. It’s hard to breathe. Hard to understand what the fuck is happening right now.

“ Eddie?” Wayne approaches him and places a soft, guiding hand on his shoulder.

“ Hmm? “

“ You know, sometimes it’s okay to let people come back. “

“ Hey everyone, you ready for some more songs? We’re a guitarist short but I’m sure we can get y’all dancing just the same. Feel free to drop some more requests. In fact, this first one we’re gonna be playing is a request by our missing guitarist. This one’s for the lovebirds in the crowd.”

As the opening chords to Journey’s Open Arms fill the air, a shudder courses through (Y/N).

Maybe this is fate being cruel or playing tricks on her. For not being brave enough. For not calling enough or visiting enough. For not fighting hard enough for them. For not trying. For giving up.

“ So I haven’t done it in a while but I think I can still remember some of the steps so uh — you wanna dance? But I might be shit at it now, just a warning. “

Or maybe it’s not fate at all.

Eddie looks at her with those big beautiful brown eyes of his, almost pleading as he reaches his hand out for her to take.

As if there was ever a chance of her not taking it. No matter how much she was hurting.

“ Of course.”

He’s a downright liar. He’s not shit at it. Quite the opposite. He still remembers every step, every turn, and every twirl.

And his arms still feel like home.

“ I’m sorry I was pissed at you, I didn’t mean to be mean. I just — I missed you so much and I miss us.”

“ I miss us too Eddie. I miss you. And I — “ she leans her head against his chest and lets out a sigh, her words getting lost somewhere between her heart and her lips.

“ I can’t believe you wanted to propose to me back then. “

His chest vibrates with a laugh “Yeah. Pretty crazy and irrational, huh?”

(Y/N) softly nods before pulling his head down to be level with hers.

He can feel her lips on the side of his face, her breath against his skin.

“ You know what’s even crazier? “

“ Huh? “

“ I would’ve said yes.”

He wonders if it’s some kind of magic or just — love. Whatever it is, his heart feels a little more whole again. Like all the cracks and craters and holes and wounds are being stitched up and filled. It’s not like before, it’s different but no more or less.

“What uh — what about now?”

“ Eddie Munson, you know better than to propose to me at someone else’s wedding.”

And he does. She deserves better. She deserves candles and flowers and fireworks and — more.

“ That was not a no.”

“ It’s never gonna be a no. Now dance with me.”

There’s nothing he would rather do.

“But now that you've come back

Turned night into day

I need you to stay

So now I come to you

With open arms.”

Eddie Munson can not remember a time in his life when he had to be responsible for anyone but himself. He wants to change that though. For once in his life, he wants to be responsible for her happiness. And it doesn’t scare him. Not anymore. Not when he just got her back.

There are no candles or flowers or fireworks. In fact, there is nothing but torrential downpour and closed roads. He wanted to take her out, he really did. Drive with her to lovers lake where years ago they stood in each other's arms dreaming of a future together. That’s where he left the candles and the flowers and the sparklers.

All he has is a ring and a lifetime of memories and his bruised heart beating out of his chest.

His hair is sticking to his skin in wet strands as she opens the door to her family’s home.

“Eddie?”

“ My dad is a fucking asshole. I can’t remember a lot of good things about him. He never spent his money on presents for me or even tried to help Wayne out with rent. But he did spend money on this, “ Eddie exclaims and pulls the box from the pocket of his leather jacket. “ That’s the only thing he ever bought that wasn’t for himself. So it must have meant something. My mom must have meant something to him. It’s a beautiful ring and it deserves a good love story. It deserves to mean something to someone because I don't think it meant anything to my mother seeing as she gave it back. And there’s no one who means more to me than you. I’m in love with you, (Y/N). I’ve been in love with you since I was 12 years old and I will always be in love with you. I was never a deliberate choice in anyone’s life but yours. You chose to be my friend, my girlfriend. My everything. Now I’m asking you to choose me as your husband. “

“ You are insane, Eddie Munson, “ she says and steps out into the rain, getting soaked to the bones in a matter of seconds and yet not feeling any cold. All she feels is warmth and love and that special calm of coming home.

“Think we established that a long time ago. So what do you say, will you marry the freak?”

Her hands find his face, softly moving his hair behind his ears.

When she kisses him, soft and gentle and passionate, he remembers what it feels like. To be fully and wholly loved. Every part of you. All the good and all the bad.

“ You’re my freak, don’t you remember? And I will always choose you. In this life and all the lives to come. As long as you promise to dance with me.”

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